#reading this ask gave me immense joy

[scoups4lyfe]

Hello fellow squid apologist! You have made a post analyzing the lighting in Olteca' scenes and his slow descent to Hell Time, and I'd like to know if I could make a gifset out of it? (I'll credit you for the idea, obviously). Also I absolutely adored reading your thoughts as you watched battle familia! They sure yeeted Olteca off that plane while telling him "idk if it's gonna work but YEET"

HAHAHAHA >:DD

They really did yeet him off that plane I'm still in tears over it

I'd be overjoyed if you made a gifset >:]]. I'd be glad to be tagged just so I can see it too 👀 ngl

I'm glad you liked my battle familia thoughts LOL!! Sometimes it's still incomprehensible to me that people see my posts

ALSO

🤝🤝🤝

Fellow Squid Apologist (╯✧▽✧)╯

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

What's your opinion on malewife/house husband Adrien posts? I asked this to another blog, and like I said to them, I find them a guilty pleasure: The concept is cute, but I know that would be the last thing Adrien would ever wanna be after all his dad put him through.

I don't think that it would be the last thing that Adrien would ever want. I actually think it suits his character in a lot of ways, you just have to handle the topic with care.

First let's talk about why it suits him.

Miraculous has totally failed to give Adrien any sort of career-based passion and - if we ignore the senti complication - I honestly love that for him! I want more characters with no major life ambitions to balance out the Marinettes of the world!

I think that society places way too much pressure and value on finding the perfect career that fulfills us in every way while also allowing us to put food on the table. Most people will never find that and that's okay. It doesn't mean that you've failed or that you're lesser. For most people, the goal is to find a career that pays the bills and that you enjoy enough that you don't hate doing it 40hrs/week. Along similar lines, for most people, your passion will be something that doesn't make money. It will be something like a hobby or spending time with those you love or analyzing badly written French TV shows.

This brings us back to Adrien.

Adrien seems to get a great deal of joy from being around his loved ones and making them happy, so I can absolutely picture him finding a lot of joy in running a home. This is extra true because Marinette is pretty clearly career driven and she's planning to go into a creative field, so she'll probably have a pretty crazy schedule and struggle to stay on top of it all. Having a loving husband to take things like cooking and cleaning off of her plate would be a blessing and a gift that she'd greatly appreciate, but that would feel unbalanced if Adrien was working, too. (Yes, they could hire staff, but that risks the secret identity thing, so I don't see them doing that.)

If they both have power careers, then they'd barely see each other and I hate that for them. I think that it would make Adrien incredibly sad and depressed. Plus, while Marinette thrives off of competition and staying busy, only needing occasional breaks before diving right back in, Adrien seems to hate busy schedules and heavy work loads.

Given all of that, I think that there's a lot to be said for Adrien stepping away from the working world. Especially since he's been in it for years and being a child celebrity is no joke! I think it would be nice for him to escape from strict schedules and expectations. Dinner fails? Order takeout!

While we're on the topic of food, I really like the idea of Adrien falling in love with cooking. Dude needs a creative outlet and that's honestly a great one (I hate it when people write characters as unable to figure out cooking like it's some cute quirk. While an initial struggle is believable, it's not a mystical art that takes years of practice. Between YouTube, the wider Internet, and maybe some classes if he wants to get fancy, I think that he'll be fine.) There's so much variety with what you can do in the kitchen and the end result gets to be shared and appreciated by those you love. It just seems like a perfect fit for him, but I would never make him a professional chef because the hours are insane and the pressure to be perfect is high. I only see him loving it as a hobby where he can go at his own pace, take days off, and make lazy meals when he's not feeling like being a show off.

The big concerns that come with making him a homemaker are a lack of financial independence and a lack of socialization. I don't see the first thing as an issue for Adrien since he comes from a wealthy family, so that one doesn't phase me.

The isolation could very easily be an issue, but it could just as easily be a problem if he started working, too. It's not as if a job is a sure way to have friends or even just consistent positive social interactions, which is another reason why I don't really see a need to give him a traditional job. You can get a vibrant social life in lots of other ways.

Here are the two big things that I keep in mind when writing an Adrien-as-a-homemaker or similar setup as it is where I tend to have Adrien land for all of the above reasons:

Adrien needs to be active in some organization or project. Volunteer work is a good fit as is being an active stay-at-home parent or some combination of the two. Voice acting is also on my radar, but my default is to have him act as the head of team miraculous' out-of-battle activities. Scheduling meet and greets. Going to see sick kids. Jetting around the world for humanitarian aid missions. Basically let Chat Noir be his "career" which gives him a lot of much needed flexibility for making his own schedule, especially if he's a stay-at-home parent to any eventual kids. I also like the poetic nature of Adrien finally being proud to be the face of a "brand" via his hero side while his civilian side becomes just some guy that people kind of remember from old ads.

Consider having a non-traditional living arrangement. I am a big fan of hero teams living together, so my default is to take the Agreste mansion and remodel it into a secret HQ for the team. Adrien and Marinette would have their own apartment/wing/whatever, but they'd still be surrounded by their found family on a near-daily basis, so that social isolation is the last thing on Adrien's mind. There's almost always someone to hang out with! You could also just have Alya and Nino or other friends live in the same apartment building so that they're over a lot/Adrien has a place to hang when Marinette is working late because you know that she'd do that.

Basically, Adrien's rich, so he doesn't need to make money and he doesn't seem to have any interest in a normal job, so I really like letting him having a unique life where he doesn't have a traditional job. He is a superhero, after all. Unique career paths are pretty par for the course. You just have to be careful to make sure that all of this feels like his fully informed and carefully considered choice and not like you forced it on him to make Marinette's life perfect (I only brought her up earlier because this is a story and it makes sense to design characters around each other). I usually do this by sending Adrien to therapy in his late teens or by giving him some other parth of self discovery.

Do note that all of the above is inspired by my read of Adrien which may be totally different from your read of him and that's fine! I just can't picture him as someone who thrives in a traditional career path based on knowing people who strike me as similar to him and from whom I draw my understanding of how to write that part of Adrien's character. I think that he'd be perfectly able to have a traditional career path, but I also think that he'd be pretty miserable for a lot of reasons.

I'll also note that I'm not sure what posts spawned this ask, so there may be elements of those that I'd have criticisms of. This post was about the general concept of Adrien being a homemaker. I tend to avoid the broader fandom for my own sanity and the use of the term "malewife" has me concerned that I'm implying support of something I wouldn't actually support because that's a new one for me and it sounds incredibly sexist.

I'm not a fan of implying that the default definition of "wife" is "submissive homemaker" so a man taking on a homemaking role is clearly submissive and acting like a woman does while his aggressive, domineering wife is acting like a man, which is the definition of this word that I'm finding online and yikes! Wife and husband are legal/social status in my book. They are not clearly defined jobs/roles/personality types, so I'm not a fan of using gendered terms to refer to stuff like this especially since I do actively try to use gender neutral words in my own writing whenever I can, though I'm certainly far from perfect on that front.

I also don't see homemaking as a submissive act. It certainly can be, but that's not how I picture Adrien at all! I picture him as relaxed and plesent, but 100% in charge of the home and all choices about how it's run. I also see him being in charge of their finances like homemakers often were in the "old days" since they were the ones in charge of things like scheduling cleaners, buying food, and other things that needed strong budgeting skills while the person who worked wasn't actually spending money or managing the home since they were at work. I like to think that Nathalie would prep Adrien to be a wealthy man and so he'd have strong skills in finance management.

[peachysunrize]

Insolent wench ⥃ Prince Regent!Aemond

Summary: when he finds the master of whispers’ daughter in the council room in the dead of the night playing with the marble ball he gave to Aegon earlier, the dragon in him is ready to burn or succumb to her.

Pairing: prince regent!Aemond Targaryen x Larys Strong’s daughter reader

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Dark content -> manipulation & blackmail! Dark!reader even a bit of dubcon, virginity loss, virgin!reader, degrading, rough sex, spanking, pussy slapping, breeding, fingering, porn with little plot, ehem using the ball as a toy, Larys’ daughter has zero description, English isn’t my first language<3

Word count: 3.07k+

A/n: thank you @namelesslosers for giving me this dynamic idea & thank you @sylasthegrim for beta reading this for me🥹 Happy rough fucking with Aemond everyone🤭 Reblogs & comments are most appreciated!💕 also I was too lazy to make an aesthetic moodboard for my fic lol

He lurks in the corridors of the Keep that lead to the Small Council room. It has become his little secret, a routine he has always longed to have, and now, after months of yearning, he finally has it.

The halls are silent, and the sound of every step he takes echoes within the walls. Aemond walks with Blackfyre attached to his hip, the heavy weight of the Valyrian steel makes him smirk. Truly, he has never felt an emotion so deeply rooted inside him that makes the hair on his nape rouse, but now being the regent and the protector of the realm does it for him.

He stops for a moment when he finds the door to the council’s room ajar, the flickering of the candlelight visible from outside. He has never encountered anyone at such an hour, everyone has to be abed, except for the guards who are the ones that aren’t found anywhere near this room.

He takes a cautious step towards the door, hearing the sound of a low humming coming from inside. He reaches for Aegon’s dagger, fingers wrapping around the hilt as he pushes the door open slowly, his good eye skimming the room only to find someone’s back to him, leaning over the table and playing with his marble ball.

“A fine night, is it not, my Prince Regent?” you ask him, your back still to him as you fidget with the ball on the table, walking towards the King’s chair with a sway in your hips.

“What is your business here, Lady Strong?” he asks, letting go of the dagger before he locks his hands behind his back, walking towards his previous seat at the end of the marble desk.

He watches you closely, his good eye following your every move as you sit down on his chair at the head of the table, rolling the ball between your fingers as you look up from the ball to him slowly.

“I am disheartened by your words to my father,” you say, leaning back on the chair while your thumb rubs over the smooth surface of the marble ball in your hand, “he has served the King and your grace faithfully.”

Aemond doesn’t move from his spot, staring solely at your fingers as they rub and caress what belongs to him. He listens carefully, though he is not sure what good it might come out of conversing with a lady like you at such an hour.

“Your father sought power when he already had more than he deserved,” he replies, taking prolonged steps towards you, stopping at Tyland Lannister’s empty chair, “my council is no place for cunning rats like him.”

You chuckle, leaning your head on the back of the chair with a smirk tugging on the corner of your mouth, and it irritates Aemond to no end to see you finding such immense joy in tormenting him—even though you have not really started yet.

You were always such a strange lady to him; so much like your father in the sense that you stopped at nothing to obtain what you wanted".He has heard tales of your rebellious nature in the court, always listening and bothering the royals with your remarks, but they have failed to tell him about your blinding beauty.

“I thought you were ruling in your brother’s stead while he recovers, my prince,” you say, pushing the ball until it starts rolling towards where Aemond stands, “allegedly, this is his council, not yours.”

“Yet your father assumed he’d be my Hand, not my brother’s,” he moves the ball on the table as he walks towards Orwyle’s seat, his gaze never leaving yours, “it does make me wonder how hungry both he and you are for the attention of the royals, my lady.”

“Oh, you have mistaken my motives, your grace,” you stand up, stepping on the opposite side of him, matching his pace as he rounds the table with confidence until he’s standing behind the King’s chair, “I am not here to seek power or the attention of the royals, no. I am here to tell you that sometimes you need to think before you utter some words; ugly rats like my father as you said, tend to thrive on them, best is to learn how to say those words without causing a problem.”

“Mind your tongue, little girl,” Aemond spits out the words, closing his fingers around the ball tightly before he strides towards you purposefully with a tinge of fury in his steps.

“Not little, my prince,” you match his tone, standing where you are until he is right in front of you, the purple of his eye now fully gone as darkness seeps through his iris, “certainly older than you. I reckon you like older women, given your rendezvous to the brothel and all.”

His hand comes up to grip your jaw, squishing your cheeks harshly as he looms over you, his face inches away from yours as his nostrils flare in anger.

“Watch yourself, insolent wench. You are in no position to drag my name in the dirt. Your father tried, and look where he is now—called a Toad by me, dismissed as my Hand and ready to fetch Otto Hightower like a dog,” he says through gritted teeth, his nails digging into your face as he leans closer, his hot breath hitting your lips.

“Your name is already filthy by your own hands. You and Larys Strong have more in common than you think; both kinslayers—“ he cuts you off by spinning you away from him, pushing you down on the table roughly by his large palm on your back.

“Filthy whores like you should be executed in the muddy streets of Flea Bottom and their heads parading around the city on a spike,” he presses himself against your back, his crotch rubbing against your skirt, “Lucky for you, I know how to treat girls like you.”

“I assumed His Grace took no pleasure in taking whores,” you laugh with a jab in your tone at him, “I would love to see how you treat them though. Your brother is the one with tales of his masterful bedding, not you.”

“Tormenting me at the hour of the wolf has severe consequences which I will deliver to you accordingly, Strong,” he groans against your ear, reaching for his dagger to tear through the fabric of your dress, the remaining layers falling on the floor with ease. “Punishment or not, you will learn you shall never wake the dragon for you will burn and the only thing that will remain is your ashes.”

Your small clothes join your ruined dress on the floor, leaving you bare and dripping to the Prince Regent’s eye, devouring the sight of your flesh like a man starved.

The moan that slips from your lips when you feel something cold against your heated cunt is shameless, just like the sound a whore in the Street of Silk would make. 

Aemond starts rubbing your buzzing pearl with the marble ball between his fingers, his breathless laugh against the shell of your ear only makes the feeling of the coldness against your most vulnerable part much stronger.

“You were playing with my property, now I shall use it to make you a property of mine as well,” he whispers, his teeth sinking in the flesh of your neck as he moves the ball faster, your juices flowing down on the cold stone in his hand.

You realize you have awakened the beast within him as he quickens his movements, one hand pinning you to the table and the other rubbing the bundle of nerves furiously, tightening the knot in your core. You fist your hands, nails digging into your palm as your breathing turns into panting.

“It is in your blood it seems, to enjoy having the attention of someone who can easily snap your neck in half,” he mumbles more to himself than you, pleased with how shaky you have become, “you see, insolent wenches like you should be put in their place. How fortunate you are to be under my care.”

As soon as you feel your breaking point, he takes away the ball from your cunt, making you whine and arch your back in protest. He chuckles darkly, bringing the ball to your lips before he orders you to suck and clean the ball off your juices.

“My Prince—“

“Go on, you tart, show your prince how much of a power-hungry slut you are, maybe I will reconsider naming your father as my Hand.”

You comply, licking your nectar off the cold marble, humming at the taste. Aemond knows these games, at least he knew them with the little education he had in the brothels, but you? You are a different kind of lady, a master in disguise. It irritates and arouses him to no end.

Aemond lets go of the stone, bringing his palm down on your arsecheek roughly, making you yelp in surprise. He repeats his action, slapping your backside one more on the same spot he did a few seconds ago. 

You whine in pain and unbelievable pleasure as the sting of his hand spreads through your flesh, a deep primal desire rushing to your aching pussy. He looks down to find you wetter than before, and the sight makes him almost lose his self-restraint, almost.

You wrap your hand around the ball tightly, crying out when you feel the impact of another spank not on your bottom but on your cunt. The pain mixes with an undeniably overwhelming pleasure that has you biting your lip, not wishing to give him the satisfaction. He senses it anyway and hears the muffled scream as he lands another slap on your swollen folds with a sinister smile. 

“I wonder if your father knows of your whereabouts, his daughter ready to be turned into his future king’s whore,” he brings two of his fingers to his mouth, covering them with his spit before he reaches down to play with your pussy, no patience left in him as he thrusts his fingers inside you, groaning at the feel of your warmth.

You do not have the chance to tell him about your maidenhead, and with how fast he is moving his fingers, you can no longer think of it as an issue — your plans are falling into the right path.

Your mind has turned into a mush with how luscious his fingers feel inside you, not a foreign feeling but his fingers are much longer and thicker than you and reach deeper inside you, having you moaning and clawing the table.

“It only takes a few fingers to have your mouth shut, Lady Strong. I wonder what you’d do when I have my cock deep in your cunt,” he leans down to lick at your cheek, his fingers moving faster as he presses his bulge to your thigh. This time, he doesn’t pull away and keeps his pace up, curving his digits to hit your sweet spot rapidly, bringing you closer to your high. 

“My prince, please—“

“That’s it, Strong, give it to me,” he groans out the words, resting his forehead on the side of your face. He hums as soon as you start shaking and tightening around his fingers, gushing your wetness on him.

He doesn’t kiss you, no, he just licks over your lips as you moan and part them in pure delight, seeing stars as your peak rocks your body forward. 

“Fuck it, I need to be buried inside you, seeing for myself how the real blood of Strongs feels like,” he says, biting your cheek as he pulls his fingers out, wiping them on the red handprint on your bottom before reaching for his doublet, unbuttoning it and pulling his linen undershirt out of his leather pants. His fingers unlace his trousers quickly, pushing them and his breeches down enough for his cock to spring free.

He aligns his leaking tip with your soaked entrance, filling you to the hilt with one swift snap of his slim hips. Aemond groans, your wet pulsating walls enveloping his length in a delicious way that not even Sylvie has made him feel.

His hands make a home on your hips as soon as he starts thrusting his cock at a fast bruising pace, not letting you adjust to how his girth stretches your walls more than you thought you’d expect. Your maidenhead is now gone, you can feel his tip licking at the head of your womb, nudging it with each snap of his hips to yours.

Aemond cannot take his eye off of the way his cock disappears inside you, coated with your essence and wetness as he fucks you with abandon, his brain foggy with a desire he has only felt while burning his brother and killing his nephew—you are special in his eye, you awaken the dragon within him, insolent wench as he so likes to call you.

Your hands grow clammy, and the ball falls from your grasp with Aemond’s rough hammering, rolling on the table until it falls on the floor, making a loud uncomfortable noise that matches your unladylike moans and gasps in pleasure.

“You can’t even hold a fucking ball in your hands, Strong. Is your father as weak as you? Will he succumb to me the way you have with just a cock inside your tight pretty cunt?”

It is you who has succumbed to me, you think to yourself as coherent as your thoughts can get without the feeling of him overwhelming your senses. You nod mindlessly, thinking of how he has fallen into your trap so easily.

He comes hard, his hip bones pushing your plush thighs to the rough edges of the council’s table, filling you to the brim with his royal seed. Aemond’s head is thrown back, groaning at your name as his cock twitches inside you, the final ropes of his warm cum painting your walls.

“What have you done?” you ask shakily, faking terror as you try to push him away from you, 

“what— how could you, my prince?”

“What?” he asks dumbfounded, pulling his now softened cock out of you, looking at you with his mind now sharper than before, “what are you saying, my lady?”

“Which lord will now take me as his bride? I am—may the Seven help me— I am tainted! I-I cannot find a husband, m-my maidenhead!”

“You…” Aemond’s voice falters, “you were… you were still a maiden?”

“I was! How crude you have to be to sully my name like a- like the whores you visit? I cannot believe you—“

“Wait!” he tries to reach for you, his lips parted in sheer surprise and terror as you push away from him, nearly dropping on his knees, “My Lady, we should have a word—“

“No!” You fix your dress as best as you could, shaking your head as you run away from him, opening the doors without even looking at him, leaving him shocked and confused with his soft dick out, looking like a deer caught by the hunters.

With so little sleep, Aemond walks through the same hallways he took last night, waltzing inside the small council with a pulsating heart. His eye finds Larys alone in the room, humming as he plays with the marble ball you — his daughter — were playing with last night.

“My Prince Regent,” Lord Larys stands up and bows, “what a lovely day, do you not think so?”

“Lovely morrow indeed,” Aemond says, sitting at the head of the table, glaring at Larys who rolls his marble ball from side to side, “state your mind or leave me.”

“My daughter, Your Grace,” Larys sighs, a ghost of a smirk finding its way onto his face, “she was… in a not-so-pleasant state for her status when she sought me out.”

“What of her?” Aemond tries to remain unbothered, but he knows there is a scheme going on that his intelligence could not pick up on last night.

“She said you forced yourself upon her,” Larys drops the ball on the floor as he locks his hand on the table, his eyes meeting Aemond’s, glaring at him with newfound confidence, “that no Lord will take her now, that you have tainted and impured my daughter!”

“I assure you, my good Lord, that is a lie. Your daughter was the one who made me do it—“ he tries to reason with him, but Larys has none of it.

“So you admit that you yielded to your desires and took my daughter’s innocence! How wild, how disgusting! To know I wished to be in your council—“

“‘Mind your tongue, Lord Larys. I do not care if you are to leave the Keep, but you will not talk to me as if I’m lesser than I was before!” Aemond’s voice booms through the room, slamming his fist on the table as he stands up.

“You are a lesser man, Prince Aemond. A man who gave into his desires and used his power over a helpless noble woman…”

“What is it you wish for me to do? I have not forced myself upon your daughter, she partook in the act willingly if not more enthusiastically than me.” Aemond’s breathing changes and his knuckles turn white as he tries to stop himself from doing something he would surely regret.

“She was crying in my arms last night—“

“Name it and it is yours!” Aemond yells at him, walking to grab Larys by his collar, “You want me to name you my Hand? I will. But in return, you shall keep your mouth shut.”

“You are in no position to tell me what to do, my prince,” Larys calms down a bit, knowing the plan he and you have made has been done perfectly, “you will make me your Hand, and you will marry my daughter in a fortnight.”

“Not acceptable! We will lose Baratheons’ support!” Aemond shoves Larys back on his seat before he starts pacing, “You are my Hand from now on, and I will arrange a good match for your daughter.”

“No, she will be the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, or I will taint your reputation the way you have done to my daughter.” 

Rest assured, Larys Strong’s only child married the former Prince Regent and now the King in a fortnight with a lavish feast thrown for her.

[poppadom0912]

The best babysitters

Warnings: Mentions of absent father but all fluff

Summary: Work prevents you from going home one night, thankfully you’ve got the best backup in Chicago.

A/N: This is being posted later than I planned. My mum was in hospital and it gave me a scare but she's all recovered now so here this is. This is in celebration of 1k, a few more will follow as my workload has decreased significantly.

This fic exists in the same world as my other fic ‘older sister’ but can also be read as a stand alone.

You were tired.

Work was beyond busy today and your clients were being unnecessarily stressful. All you wanted now was to go home, relieve your babysitter of her duties and enjoy the night in with your daughter.

It seemed that the universe had some sort of vendetta against you though because just as you were putting the finishing signatures on the last few papers, an intern, a woman you saw earlier at reception, came running into your office slightly out of breath.

You wanted to scream.

Letting the poor intern talk, you smiled at her stiffly, dismissing her after saying you’d make your way. There was no way you could ask your babysitter to stay late for God knows how much longer, you could remember her telling you she has a lecture tomorrow morning.

Getting up from your desk, you sighed, screwing your eyes closed when you caught the time on your phone. Your sigh in defeat could probably be heard all across Chicago.

Walking out your office, the sound of your heels filled out the empty space, majority of the firm had gone home, only a few stragglers staying behind to close up on any loose ends.

Turning your phone on, you ignored the several notifications screaming for your attention and went straight to your contacts.

Your phone only rang twice before the person on the receiving end picked up.

“Hey Will, can you do me the biggest favour please… You’re a life saviour, thanks, I owe you one.”

Hanging up the phone, you stared ahead through the windows at the bustling waiting room, raised angry voices overlapping and bleeding though the walls.

You could already feel your headache intensifying.

*****

Using his spare key, Will entered your house. Shuffling inside, he took off his jacket and shoes as usual.

Hearing the front door open, little pattering feet were immediately heard running across the house. Will smiled at the sound that he didn’t hear often due to all of your demanding jobs.

“Mama! Mama oh-“

The immense joy on Harper’s face disappeared as the nearly two-year-old rounded the corner on her little chubby legs, expecting to see her beloved mother who she missed all day only to suddenly be met with her redheaded uncle.

“Well hello to you too miss Harper.” Will smiled down at his niece nonetheless, crouching down to scoop her into his arms to which she didn’t argue and instead welcomed.

As soon as she was safe in his arms, the toothiest, giddiest smile broke out on her chubby face that was so scarily identical to yours that it could only be explained by witchcraft.

Harper giggled, such a sound making Will forget about all the horrors that stained his day from the emergency department.

“Hi!” She exclaimed, her smile remained upright and never faltered. “Hi!”

And soon after, she pressed her open mouth onto his stubbly cheek, her attempt of a kiss. Despite struggling with the tough task and all the slobber that remained on his cheek, Will’s reaction was instant and wouldn’t change for the world.

“Oh, thank you so much Harper! Uncle Will missed you tons. Look at how big you’ve grown!”

But, before Will could have all his focus solely on his adorable niece, the sound of the front door unlocking diverted his attention.

Lo and behold, Jay casually strolled in as though this was another random Tuesday.

Oh, that son of a b-

Harper’s scream that followed definitely burst Will’s eardrums.

Will winced, tipping his head away to protect his ears from any further damage before turning to glare at his brother who was taking his jacket off.

"What are you-"

"You said we'd meet at Molly's for a drink but you weren't there." Jay cut Will off, a smile on his face as he looked at Harper and spoke without looking in Will's direction. "Natalie told me you were here."

"Jay Jay's jealous Harper." Will said, his tone all factual and matter-of-fact as he looked at the toddler in his arms. "He didn't want to miss out."

Jay didn't even try to look offended or hurt by Will's remark because deep down, it was somewhat true because how could Jay let Will have all the fun by himself?

"Stop hogging her you buffoon and let me hold her." Jay told Will, not waiting for a reply as he moved forward and took Harper into his arms, the girl didn't protest nor did she willingly lean forward.

"What- Uh, I've literally been here for five minutes Jay."

"Am I your favourite uncle? I knew it!"

*****

Following Jay’s sudden and unprompted arrival, Will dismissed your babysitter, paying her what you usually did and a little more as compensation for staying so late.

Once she had left, there wasn’t much left around the house for them to do besides turning the dishwasher on and making Harper’s nightly milks, but it wasn’t her bedtime just yet and maybe if time permitted it, Harper could stay up a little beyond her usual bedtime.

Consider it a small treat for this special circumstance without her mother implementing her strict nighttime routine.

While Will was sorting away the finals bits in the kitchen, Jay easily made himself comfortable in the living room while Harper continued to babble nonsensically, a few discernible words welcomed themselves into the mix. Jay allowed himself to take a second to relish in the moment, trying to prevent himself from having an existential crisis as he realised he was both emotional but also proud of how much she was growing.

“Dada, look look! S’ Dada!”

Moment ruined, Jay’s smile instantly fell.

Jay followed the direction of Harper’s index finger to the tv, his face hardening at the sight of the man who failed his fiancée and his baby who just turned one.

Harper's 'dad' was a television reporter and it had totally slipped his mind that this was the channel he worked for. Seeing his stupid face yap away about the news made his blood boil.

Jay changed the channel without a second thought.

Your ex fiancé had suddenly decided to leave on Harper’s first birthday, not even having the decency to at least show up at her birthday party.

A year later, and Harper still remembered the man whose name was her first word.

It devastated you still to this day what he had done and Harper’s random interjections of ‘dada’ only made the wound deeper.

“Dada isn’t here harper.” Jay said, tone as soft as it could be as he tried to explain it without her crying.

“It’s just uncle Jay and Will, and mama will be home soon.” Jay continued, holding the toddler in his lap so there was no chance of her running away crying.

Luckily, Harper was a mummy’s girl through and through, so despite the large absence of her father, simply mentioning ‘mama’ or anything akin to that made her entire face light up in a way that no one else could.

“Okay Halstead’s, listen up!” Will said as he entered the living room, phone in one and a towel in the other.

“Y/N’s saying it’s mostly likely going to be another two hours minimum so we’re most likely going to have to stay over.” Will told Jay specifically before looking down at Harper.

“You wanna get into your PJ’s Harps? Jay Jay can make you some milk.”

And despite her highly energised state, Harper would never turn down the enticing combination of her pyjamas and warm milk.

Crawling out of Jay’s lap, Harper moved towards Will who in turn of carrying her gave Jay the towel he was holding. And as much as Jay wanted to fight his brother, he knew Will had more experience with kids - i.e. Owen - and so he could gladly change her diaper.

With Will and Harper standing over him, brown eyes wide, glinting with a hidden intent Jay had become familiar with since childhood. It really wasn’t fair that you and Will both had your father’s eyes which Harper just had to inherit. Jay found himself useless and always surrendering to those goddamn eyes, even as the youngest sibling.

Whenever Jay remembered his childhood, it never made sense why the two older siblings never folded as easily when he looked up at them with the biggest, most imploring eyes. Even now, three decades later, and not a single thing had changed.

“Okay, okay! Just stop looking at me like that.” As soon as Jay spoke, the two rejoiced, their happiness still discernible even as they made their way upstairs.

“Let’s get this party started then.”

*****

And so party they did.

Well at least according to Harper’s standards.

The night started off with warm drinks - Harper with her milk while Will and Jay spoiled themselves to the expensive coffee beans that you easily could afford but neither your brothers indulged in unless under your roof.

Following this, Harper had a short but very fun time running around with sudden newfound energy, causing as much havoc as humanly possible for anyone her size.

It was safe to say that she tired herself quite quickly.

As Jay opened himself and Will a beer, he walked back into the living room, his eyes landing on his older brother and niece, the younger scrunched up into a little ball on Will's chest. Her face completely relaxed and arms wrapped around his torso as she snored quietly.

"Now this, after today, is my kinda party."

"Amen." Will agreed, tapping his bottle with Jay's as a silent 'cheers'.

Jay settled besides his brother, both of them staring forward at the muted movie Harper randomly chose, the first she watched that didn't have any princess affiliations.

"Gosh, it feels like years since we last babysat her." Will said, a sombre but nostalgic tone lacing his words.

"It does." Jay hummed as he swallowed his beer. "We're all so busy with work we can hardly make time for each other."

Will scoffed. "I see you almost everyday, strolling casually into the ED like you own the freaking place. Who are you kidding?"

Jay rolled his eyes but agreed nonetheless.

"Yeah, we need to visit more often. Make more effort and take out the time."

The silence that followed was filled by Harpers little snores and the occasional sound of a siren blaring past in the distance.

"I'm so tired I could knock out right here on the floor."

"Don't be such a doofus, go put her down in her bed."

"Aye aye captain."

*****

When you finally returned home three hours later, tired beyond belief. You were so close to dropping to the floor as soon as you locked the door but as you ventured into the house, you were met with the most heart warming sight.

On the floor in the living room remained your two younger brothers and your daughter. Harper was still scrunched up in a ball on Will's chest, her hand clutching his shirt while said man had his face leaning forward into her hair, his breaths causing Harper's curl to move occasionally. Jay sat besides them, hands crossed slightly on his lap and his head tipped backwards, resting on the sofa.

Even as your eyes burned with the need for sleep, you took a few pictures of the scene before you, your smile not going till your head met your pillow.

If Jay and Will woke up with sore necks in the morning, there was a very seasoned doctor in the house for a reason.

[moonselune]

Let's see... how about a gentle giant tav with the girls, in game we never really have anyone comment on the height difference. When I romanced lae'zel on my honor mode run it just occurred that lae'zel is tiny compared to the muscular body types so I'd love to read some lovely gentle giant tav doing things tall people do to there partners irl. e.g: carrying them, teasingly commenting on how short and cute they are (yes even karlach) just like wholesome/nsfw scenarios yk? This is quite a lengthy ask so my apologies in advance 😅🥺

So so so so so cute, didn't end up doing NSFW as I got too caught up in the fluff lmao, but Shadowheart's is a bit suggestive ;)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Karlach:

Your lover Karlach's tall, muscular frame often gave her an air of unapproachable strength. Yet, in your larger embrace, she became someone different—someone vulnerable, and even a bit playful. One evening, as the two of you were lounging by the campfire, she suddenly leaped onto your back, wrapping her legs around your waist and her arms around your shoulders.

"Carry me, mighty warrior!" she teased, her warm breath tickling your ear. You chuckled, standing up with ease despite her solid build.

"As you wish, my fiery tempest," you replied, adjusting her weight so she was more comfortable.

Karlach's laughter was infectious as you began walking around the campsite. "This is amazing," she whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "I rarely get to be carried like this. You're so strong."

You could feel her happiness radiating off her like heat from her infernal engine, and it filled you with joy. "Well, you deserve it," you said, your voice tender. "You deserve to feel cared for."

As you continued to carry her, Karlach leaned closer, her lips brushing against your ear. "You know," she said, her voice soft, "I love being up here. I can whisper sweet things to you, kiss you whenever I want."

You turned your head slightly, meeting her eyes with a smile. "Then whisper and kiss away, my love."

She giggled, planting a series of soft kisses along your jawline. "I love you," she murmured, her voice filled with genuine affection.

Holding her close, you continued to walk, savoring the intimacy of the moment. For Karlach, who was so often the protector, being carried and cared for by you was a rare and cherished experience. And for you, having her so close, feeling her warmth and hearing her whispered words of love, was a privilege beyond compare.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Minthara:

Minthara enjoyed every moment of having you by her side. Your towering height and broad shoulders added an extra layer of intimidation to her already fearsome reputation. She would often position you just behind her during her numerous confrontations, taking immense pleasure in the way people cowered and recoiled at the sight of you.

"Stand right here," she would say, pointing to a spot that would maximize your imposing stature. You would comply, your silent strength a perfect complement to her authority - she thought. It amused you, and it delighted you seeing her so happy.

One evening, during a heated negotiation with a group of reluctant villagers, Minthara stood tall and fierce, her words sharp and unyielding. The villagers' eyes kept darting to you, their fear palpable. Minthara noticed this and smirked, relishing the power you both exuded.

"And if you think of crossing me," she warned, gesturing to you with a flick of her wrist, "my love here will ensure you regret it."

After the villagers had hastily agreed to her demands and scurried away, Minthara turned to you with a satisfied grin. "See how they tremble?" she purred, stepping closer to you. "It's delightful."

You nodded, your expression neutral. You had grown accustomed to her delight in intimidation, and while you supported her, there were times when her bossiness tested your patience.

One day, Minthara took her bossiness a step too far. She had been issuing orders for hours, her tone growing more and more demanding. Finally, in a fit of irritation, she snapped at you, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

"Do you not understand what I want?" she hissed. "Must I spell everything out for you?"

You took a deep breath, your patience wearing thin. Without a word, you bent down, scooping her up in your powerful arms. Minthara's eyes widened in surprise as you carried her effortlessly towards a large, sturdy tree.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, her voice a mix of curiosity and indignation as she clawed at you back.

You didn't answer. Instead, you found a low-hanging branch and, with a quick heave, deposited her onto it, high above the ground. Minthara clung to the branch, glaring down at you and practically hissing as you stepped back, crossing your arms.

"You need a time out," you said simply, your tone firm but not unkind.

Minthara looked down, her expression a mix of surprise and frustration. She was feline in her movements, agile and graceful, but even she couldn't easily descend from such a height without risking injury.

"You can't leave me up here," she called, a hint of a growl in her voice.

You smirked, leaning against the trunk of the tree. "I'll let you down when you've cooled off."

For a few moments, Minthara glowered at you, clearly debating whether to argue further. But as the minutes passed, her anger seemed to dissipate, replaced by a reluctant amusement.

"You are infuriating," she finally muttered, though there was no real venom in her voice.

"And you are bossy," you replied, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips.

Eventually, you reached up, your strong arms lifting her effortlessly back to the ground. She landed lightly, her expression softening as she looked up at you.

"Perhaps I was…a bit much," she conceded, her tone almost playful.

"Just a bit," you agreed, your smile widening. Minthara stepped closer, her hands resting on your broad chest. Practically batting her eyelashes at you.

"But you still adore me," she said, her voice low and confident. You wrapped your arms around her, pulling her close.

"Of course," you murmured, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Lae'zel:

In the heat of battle, you and Lae'zel moved as one, a formidable duo whose coordination and trust in each other were unmatched. Lae'zel, despite her fierce independence, had come to enjoy a particular aspect of your strength and height. During one particularly intense skirmish, Lae'zel called out to you, her eyes blazing with exhilaration.

"Throw me!" she commanded, her voice filled with adrenaline.

You didn't hesitate. Grabbing her firmly by the waist, you lifted her effortlessly and hurled her towards the enemy ranks. She landed with perfect grace, her blades already slashing through the air. The enemies fell before her, unable to withstand her ferocity.

After the battle, as the adrenaline began to fade, you found Lae'zel leaning against a tree, her chest heaving with exertion and excitement. She looked up as you approached, a rare smile tugging at her lips.

"That was incredible," she said, her voice breathless. "The way you threw me… I've never felt so powerful."

You smiled, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from her face. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," you replied, your voice filled with affection. "I love seeing you like this—so alive."

Lae'zel's eyes softened, a look of genuine affection crossing her face. "You are strong, and you understand me," she said quietly. "In battle, you and I are unstoppable."

Later, as the two of you rested together in the quiet of the night, Lae'zel moved closer to you, her hand resting on your broad chest. "I want you to know," she began, her voice soft, "that I cherish these moments with you. Not just in battle, but here, now."

You wrapped an arm around her, pulling her close. "And I cherish you, Lae'zel," you said, your voice filled with sincerity. "In every moment, on and off the battlefield."

She looked up at you, her eyes shining with an emotion she rarely showed. "Then let us make the most of every moment,"

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Shadowheart:

The battle had been fierce, with arrows and spells flying in all directions. As the dust began to settle, you scanned the battlefield, your eyes locking onto Shadowheart. She was surrounded by fallen enemies but looked unharmed. Still, your heart pounded with worry.

Without a second thought, you strode over, scooping her up effortlessly and slinging her over your shoulder. "We've got to get you to safety," you said, your voice tinged with urgency.

Shadowheart made a small sound of protest but didn't resist. You carried her to a quieter, more secure area, finally setting her down gently on her feet.

"Are you okay?" you asked, concern etched on your face as you examined her for any injuries.

Shadowheart's cheeks were flushed, her breathing a bit ragged. She looked up at you, eyes wide and pupils dilated. "I'm… fine," she stammered, her voice unsteady.

You frowned, touching her forehead lightly. "Are you sure? You look feverish."

Before you could react, Shadowheart surged forward, her lips crashing into yours with a fervent intensity. The kiss was heated, desperate and when she finally pulled back, you were breathless and stunned.

"Sorry, I just uh couldn't help myself." she confessed, her voice a low whisper. She looked you hungrily and as you were still reeling, you didn't have time to process her words before she pushed you down onto the soft grass. Her hands were all over you, pinning you to the ground as she kissed you again, her need palpable.

"Shadowheart," you murmured against her lips, your voice a mix of surprise and desire. You were used to being scolded at after pulling a stunt like that.

"Just let me," she whispered back, her tone filled with urgency. "I've never felt like this before."

You surrendered to her, your hands roaming over her smaller frame as she took control. The intensity of her need matched your own, and the two of you lost yourselves in each other, the aftermath of battle fading away as you found solace and passion in one another's embrace.

Lae'zel, who had a downed Astarion slung over her shoulder was not impressed when she found the two of you and you were on dishes for the next week.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Jaheira:

Jaheira, having lived long enough, had a habit of making herself comfortable wherever she was. Your broad, muscular frame had become her favorite spot to rest, not out of affection—though there was plenty of that—but out of sheer practicality.

One evening, as you sat by the campfire, Jaheira approached with a book in hand. Without a word, she settled herself on your lap, her back against your chest as she began to read. It was such a common occurrence that neither of you thought twice about it. You wrapped your arms around her, resting your chin on her shoulder.

"Comfortable?" you asked, a hint of a smile in your voice.

"Very," she replied, not looking up from her book.

A few minutes later, you reached for a nearby piece of equipment, but Jaheira shifted, making it clear she wasn't moving.

"Do you mind?" she said, her tone mock-offended. "I'm sitting here."

You chuckled, moving the equipment aside and wrapping your arms around her again. "Sorry, my love. Didn't mean to disturb you."

Jaheira glanced back at you, a small smile playing on her lips. "See that you don't," she teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

The two of you sat in companionable silence, the warmth of the fire and the comfort of each other's presence creating a perfect moment of peace.

Later, when scratch found himself in your lap, Jaheira huffed in mock indignation, standing up with exaggerated reluctance. "Honestly, you'd think people would know better than to take my spot,"

You couldn't help but laugh, pulling her back into your lap as soon as Scratch had become interested in a passing squirrel.

"It's all yours," you said, kissing her temple. And so, Jaheira settled back in, her book in hand, a contented smile on her face as she enjoyed the comfort and warmth of your embrace.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

Hope y'all enjoyed it ! - Seluney xoxo

[st-eve-barnes]

Leverage (Michael Gavey x fem Reader)

Chapter 2

Summary: When your ex threatens to release some very personal videos you are left with no choice but to do what he asks: seduce the biggest nerd on campus, Michael Gavey. Will you rock his world or will he fundamentally change yours?

This chapter: Michael starts tutoring you but things are off to a rocky start.

Word count: +1900

Warning for the entire fic: 18+ for explicit content and language. Kissing, oral sex (male receiving), dry humping, hand job, fingering, p in v sex. First kiss and loss of virginity. Experienced reader. Enemies to lovers vibes.

Fluff, smut and of course angst (my favorite combination! lol) I haven't watched Saltburn yet so all characters in this fic except for Michael are my own.

Read Chapter 1 Here

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

After almost two hours of Michael’s tutoring you were beginning to contemplate throwing in the towel and just letting Ben release that video. What’s the worst that could happen anyway?

Michael had been cocky as soon as you had sat down in front of him in the library that evening. Right now he was bordering on rude and very obviously growing more impatient with you by the minute. And the faster he talked the less you listened, leaving you both frustrated.

You had a splitting headache and all the numbers and calculations were just dancing across the page now, mocking you. None of it made any sense, no matter how many different ways Michael tried to explain it all to you. 

You were good with history, languages, art or psychology. Numbers were hell on earth.

“Are you even listening?” Michael sighed impatiently, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms behind his head.

“Yes,” you nodded, followed by a heavy sigh,”No, ugh..I’m sorry, I just…I lost my focus about an hour ago.”

“An hour ago? You didn’t even have it to begin with,” Michael called you out.

“I just don’t know how this is so easy for you, like you don’t even have to think about it at all.”

“That’s because I don’t,” he answered smugly, making you roll your eyes.”Go on. Ask me a sum.”

You sighed some more but indulged him anyway,”33 times 20.”

He gave you a look,”Don’t insult me, a real sum.”

“333 times 444.”

“147.852,” he answered without even blinking. You had no way of knowing if his answer was even correct but you didn’t doubt it for a second.

“How did you do that so fucking fast?”

“I don’t know, I can just do it, in my head, I don’t have to think about it.”

“Lucky you,” you rolled your eyes again.

“They’re gonna get stuck in your head if you keep doing that, you know,” he teased, making you squint your eyes at him.

He shook his head with a little amused grin,“Ask me another one then.”

“It’s fine, you made your point, you’re a genius.”

“Ask me another one, just to be sure,” he insisted.

“Michael, it’s fine, I get it.”

‘Ask me another fucking sum!” he raised his voice, making the few other people in the library look up at you both with annoyed looks on his face. You wanted to crawl under the table and disappear.

“Alright, fucking hell…1245 times 987.”

“1.228.815,” he answered, giving you another satisfied little smile.

You just stared at him without saying anything.

“My brain works different from yours,” he then explained.

“Yeah, no shit.”

You were beginning to see why Ben was so threatened by him, Michael was an actual mathematical genius, Ben didn’t stand a chance at that internship. That thought suddenly filled you with immense joy. And then fear, because if Ben didn’t stand a chance then what were you even doing here?

Michael watched as your face fell.

“Do you want to take a break?” he suggested.

You nodded,”Yeah, a permanent one, I’m never going to get this.” You dropped your head onto the table and let out a desperate little whine.

Michael just shook his head,”So you’re a quitter, I would say I’m shocked but my mum told me never to tell a lie.”

You lifted your head to give him an angry glare but he just ignored you and closed his books, not giving you time to object before he was up and out of his seat.

“When you’re serious about wanting to learn, you know where to find me,” he said,”Until then…stop wasting my time.”

“Michael,” you sighed but he was already walking away from you, and with it your last chance to stop Ben.

You couldn’t let this happen, if you let him go now your fate was sealed.

“Michael, wait!” you rushed after him without thinking, finding him halfway in one of the book shelves. 

You grabbed at his arm to stop him, taking him by surprise. 

He froze, eyes staring wildly at the spot where your hand was touching his arm. But he didn’t pull back or try to stop you. Instead he almost seemed to lean into your space a little, accepting your touch, his mouth opened in a surprised little sigh when your fingers gently closed around his elbow. 

Of course the nerd was touch starved, it was almost too predictable. And was that a blush creeping up on his pale cheeks?

Ben had been right, Michael clearly wasn’t used to being touched, especially not by a woman. But he didn’t seem to dislike it, at all.

Maybe this mission wasn’t so impossible after all.

It was a desperate move, you realized that, but desperate is what you were.

“Please, wait,” you begged again, placing your other hand on his wrist while you gave him your best sad eyes and pouty lips,”You can’t give up on me, Michael. Please, you’re the only one who can help me, I need you.”

You watched him swallow hard at those last words, his eyes flickering from yours down to your lips and back up again.

He was staring now, shamelessly, not even trying to hide it. You used his obvious interest to lean in closer, so close he could almost feel your breath against his cheek and when you slowly and very deliberately licked your lips you could hear him bite back a quiet whimper. 

You took another step forward and carefully pressed your body up against his. That’s when you felt it, undeniably, he was hard. You had barely touched him and yet he was rock hard in his stupid cargo pants. 

You had him right where you wanted him and you could have sworn he was about to close that final distance between you two and pull you in for a kiss.

But then he leaned back and his thin lips curled up into a smug, annoyed grin.

“What are you playing at?” he asked.

“What do you mean? I’m not playing….”

“Stop lying to me, you stupid girl,” he growled and took a few steps back from you,”You say you want a tutor but you don’t give a shit about what I’m trying to teach you and now you want to…what….seduce me? How daft do you think I am?”

“I don’t think you’re daft at all!”

“I know this isn’t about math and it sure as hell isn’t about you wanting to get into my pants, girls like you don’t want nerds like me.”

“Girls like me?” you asked, staring at him with anger in your eyes,”Oh, you mean stupid girls like me? Listen, you little shit…”

“I meant pretty girls like you,” he interrupted you, shutting you up instantly.

He took a step closer again, towering over you and forcing you to lean against the book shelves behind you.

“What is it you want from me then?” he mused, as if he was asking the question more to himself and not you,”You’ve never paid any attention to me before this week…not until…I saw you scheming with Ben in the library a few days ago.”

Your eyes widened at his statement and it was enough for Michael to know he was onto something.

“I fucking knew it,” he shook his head and laughed,”What does that twat want from me this time, hmm?”

“Nothing,” you answered, too quickly.

“You’re a bad liar, girl.”

His stare was making you nervous, you wanted to blurt out everything to him and at the same time run away and never speak another word again. But there was no place to run from Ben and his ugly threats. Michael was your only ticket out of that bad spot.

He stepped back from you with a sigh,“Fine. Whatever. Tell your rich little friend that whatever you and him want from me he’s not going to get it, under any circumstances. Can you remember that or should I write it down for you?”

You nodded, feeling tears well up in your eyes. Michael’s harsh tone combined with the hopelessness of your situation was suddenly too much and you burst out into tears.

To your surprise Michael’s whole demeanor changed instantly and he rubbed his hand over his face with a heavy sigh.

You started crying,“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to involve you in this shit, I’m so sorry, Michael.”

For a moment he just looked at you, your tears and desperation too real for him to ignore.

Then he leaned back against the book shelves next to you, not saying a word. You looked up at him through your teary lashes and it was the first time you could see real compassion in his blue eyes. ”What does he have on you?” he asked softly.

”We used to date, he has some…private material he’s threatening to release.”

“Fucking prick,” Michael spat out.

“Yeah, he really is and I’m an idiot for ever being with him,” you wiped at your tears and looked surprised when Michael reached into his pocket and handed you a handkerchief. It looked like the ones your grandma used to have and you couldn’t help but smile through your tears.

”Thanks,” you sobbed and used it to wipe your cheeks dry.

“So…what did he want you to do in return then?”

”He wants that internship at Charter Inc.”

Michael nodded knowingly,”Yeah, that one is mine.”

“I know,” you smiled weakly,”That’s why he…he wanted me to distract you.”

Michael scoffed,”Jesus fuck, what an idiot. There’s nothing on this earth he can do to keep me from getting that job.”

You nodded,”I know.”

And with that realization came more tears. You used Michael’s handkerchief to keep them at bay.

“Do you think he’d actually do it?” he asked,”Are they just empty threats?”

“I honestly don’t know what he’s capable of and I don’t want to find out.”

You both stayed quiet for a while. Michael didn’t make any attempts to comfort you or touch you, but he didn’t move from his spot right next to you either.

“What can I do?” he asked.

“I don’t know if there’s anything you can do, Michael, this isn’t your problem, or your fight.”

He nodded,”Yeah, you’re right, it isn’t.”

You could feel your stomach drop in defeat.

“But,” he then added,”I’d really fucking hate to see a rich kid win in life.”

You couldn’t help but laugh through your tears.”Got any ideas?”

He thought about that for a little while and then he nodded,”We could…make him believe his plan is working? I mean, for now, until we can come up with something better.”

“How?”

“He won’t do anything as long as he believes you’re on board, yeah?”

“I guess not.”

“So we pretend that you’re…distracting me.”

You laughed bitterly at his choice of words.”He wants me to fuck you, that’s what he means by distracting you. You realize that, right?” you then blurted out and Michael snorted out loud but he regained his composure quickly.

“Then…I guess we pretend that you’re fucking me,” he said calmly, letting his eyes meet yours. You felt a shiver run up your spine, the good kind.

“Alright,” you nodded.

“Alright,” Michael repeated, keeping his eyes on you for a few moments too long before he eventually looked away and nervously pushed his glasses up his nose, smiling shyly,”When do we start then?”

[srbachchan]

DAY 5876

Jalsa, Mumbai Mar 20/21, 2024 Wed/Thu 10:47 AM

Birthday - EF -Ropaa .. Meenu Gupta .. Sikandar Khan .. Thursday, 21 March

.. and all the glory that is deserving for this special day love .. ❤️

🪔 ,

" आज किसी का जन्मदिवस है .. आज किसी मन में मधुरस है .. आज किसी के घर आँगन में .. गूँजा है संगीत, आओ ..

आज उसे सौ बार बधाई .. आज उसे सौ भेंट सुहाई .. जिसने की जीवन के ऊपर .. बरसों की जीत , आओ !! .. " ~ 🙏🏻❤️

.. from Pujya Babuji and all of us in the Ef Family our loving greetings to all who are celebrating their birthdays ..

March 19 .. birthday greetings to Ef Syed Kabeeruddin from Bangalore .. and Ef Minoo Singh from Canada 🇨🇦 .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

March 20 .. birthday greetings to Ef Jasmine Jaywant from USA 🇺🇲 .. and Ef Milan from Gujarat .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️🤗

March 21 .. birthday greetings to our lovely Punjaban from USA 🇺🇲 , Ef Meenu Gupta .. and our lovely flowers girl , Ef Rehaab Abd El Hamed aka Ropaa from Egypt 🇪🇬 .. and greetings as well to Ef Sikandar Khan .. and Ef Ipshita Kajuri from Bangladesh 🇧🇩 .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️💐

The days have passed for the post in the past few days , but the effort to connect has not passed .. and may it never ..

There is great reading in the works of Babuji and great learning ..

The most important being the rhythm .. the RHYTHM of the written word .. the graph and the tone of its writing and its presence .. for, forget the rhythm and the purpose of the writing is defeated and lost ..

Rhythm can differ in rendition too .. depending on what the writer is willing to express .. or at times an alternate rendition may even surprise the writer, if the renderer has his or her own individual interpretation of the subject matter ..

Also I do believe that a rendition when accompanied by a background score or music can make an immense difference .. on many an occasion during the express of a particular scene in film for example, it would be such a joy , if the music for the scene was recorded before and played during its rendition in front of the camera for the artist or renderer, in order to give the benefit of an enhancement to the written word ..

Many a times have I discussed this with the directors and makers, but there shall ever be the question from the sound engineer for the sound of the voice not being comprehendible ..

I tried it many times .. but recently did it for the 'asththi' scene for 'GOODBYE' .. a song from the film was to be played after the scene was over .. I asked the Director if it could play during the scene .. and he agreed .. it gave and helped the artist to perform better ..

Sound department ran circles around me to dub it, but certain scenes are tough to dub to get the right emotion .. and am grateful to the Engineer for using the latest technology and his skill in silencing the music and allowing me to perform as requested ..

Such a joy ..

I leave now to the exercise region - the gym - to exercise my mobility .. directed and executed by AI .. if you please ..

Love all to all to love ..❤️

Amitabh Bachchan

[stwritings]

I've Got You

Synopsis

Eddie helps reader through a bad trip after she's pressured by her boyfriend to take drugs.

What To Expect/Warnings

This is a rather heavy topic and potentially triggering to some so please proceed with caution. ♡

This fic takes place in 87 and has no mention of the plot from Season 4, apart from Eddie graduating. Also was not expecting it to be this long lmfao, woops. No use of y/n, toxic relationship, drug use, peer pressuring, bad drug trip, anxiety, hurt/comfort, confrontation between Eddie and reader's bf, angst, mutual pining, emotional cheating if you squint??, descriptions of drug side effects, alcohol consumption.

Let me know if i missed anything.

(proofread in a very sleepy state lol, dont mind potential spelling mistakes of repetitive words/phrasings)

Once again, i can't stress this enough, please do not read this fic if any of the above mentioned topics are triggering to you. ♡

You can read pt. 2 here!

"This year's different. This year, is my year. I can feel it... '86 baby!"

And that, it was.

Things finally seemed to be taking a turn for the better in Eddie's life. That year, he geared down and put all of his time and focus into his school work determined not to spend one more second in what was, in his opinion, the most dreadful place in town; Hawkins High. Graduation day finally came and as promised to his fellow Hellfire Club members, who all attended the ceremony, he gave the performance of a lifetime on that stage. 'They can't get me in trouble anymore.' he thought as he shredded an air guitar whilst sprinting towards the faculty, hollering as he did so. Once he was face to face with his long time nemesis, Principal Higgins, all of the cleverly thought out disses he had come up with over the last year seemed to fade away. He blamed it on nerves, but deep down he knew that his distain was overshadowed by an immense sense of joy and relief. To everyone's surprise, Eddie calmly grabbed his diploma with a mischievous smile and exited the auditorium gracefully.

'Finally, a new chapter can begin.'

_

After some much needed time off in the summer allowed him to contemplate his next move in life, Eddie started applying for jobs around Hawkins. His preferred establishments such as the library and record store were, unfortunately, not hiring. Despite the tried and true efforts of his friends at Family Video, they too, were not in need of new employees. He contemplated sticking to his main source of income, but knew that the drug market in Hawkins was not a sustainable nor stable option. Truth be told, he only started dealing as a way of making extra cash whilst still in school. He grew tired of it pretty quickly, but promised himself that the second he would graduate, he would ditch this unconventional side hustle.

His new objective was finding work that would allow him to make enough money to find a place of his own. As much as he loved Wayne and was forever grateful to his uncle for taking him in, he couldn't stand to see him spend one more night on the dreadful pull out mattress.

After weeks of grueling efforts on Eddie's behalf, Wayne came home with some good news one Saturday afternoon. With a hiring flyer and about 8 bags of groceries in hand, he nearly kicked the trailer door down from excitement. "Eddie! Boy, you home?"

Eddie quickly shuffled out of his bedroom to see what the commotion was about. Noting his uncle's erratic breathing and bulging eyes, he was quick to grab the grocery bags out of his hands to allow him to catch his breath.

"Everything okay?" he asked cautiously, unsure what had his normally calm uncle so frazzled.

Wayne waved the flyer into the air and let out a series of chuckles. "More than okay, look what they had hangin' on the wall near the checkout at the supermarket!"

As Eddie turned to face the piece of paper in his uncle's hand, a grimace started to form on his face when he processed the words written on it. "Ah man, i don't know. I'm not really skilled in the art of packing groceries..."

"Come on now, son. You already know the basics, where do the eggs go?"

Eddie stared blankly at his uncle while blinking slowly. Wayne blinked back at Eddie theatricality while motioning for a response.

"Uh, in the bag...?"

"Where in the bag, boy?" his uncle persisted, his once excited tone now slightly annoyed.

"Maybe on top so they don't get broken...?"

"See! It's common knowledge. You could also stock shelves or somethin if you don't wanna pack the bags!"

"Yeah, it's worth a shot, i could use the money..."

_

Come to find out, the supermarket was in dire need of staff members, and Eddie got the job that same day. Given that the entire store was understaffed, he was able to snag his preferred position of stocking shelves. The uniforms weren't great, and having to hear the same tunes everyday was somewhat unbearable, but the money was good so he couldn't complain.

A few weeks into his new employment, Eddie was introduced to the newest addition to the team. Given that she was also put in the stocking department, they spent much of their time working together and got along great. They would often joke around together, their sense of humor practically identical. Along with her kind and rambunctious personality, they also shared common interests such as reading and music. She was the perfect girl, he thought.

Upon getting to know one another, Eddie quickly learned, much to his dismay, that she had recently moved to Hawkins with her boyfriend so he could be closer to his family.

Needless to say, Eddie's love life was never something he had the opportunity or desire to explore whilst in school. The lack of female attention and constant bullying made it difficult for him to find anyone he wanted to get to know in a romantic way. He was rather disappointed to find out that his latest love interest was already spoken for, but quickly accepted it as such.

This minor disappointment didn't stop them from blossoming a wholesome friendship over the course of the next few months. Their normal 7 hour work days always seemed so short, and Eddie was longing to spend more time with his new friend outside of their place of work. Unfortunately, the fear of rejection, accompanied by the constant sense of exclusion he had faced in his prior years had really taken a toll on his confidence, preventing him from ever seeking out friendships outside of his circle of friends.

Those thoughts and worries were momentarily silenced one Friday morning when, to his pleasant surprise, she enquired about his plans for the weekend. This wasn't unusual, they often spoke of their upcoming outings, but typically Eddie was the one to initiate this topic of conversation in hopes that she would suggest hanging out. The idea of potentially spending time together outside of work was thrilling, so he tried his best to play it cool. "A whole lotta nothing, how about you?"

"My boyfriend's colleagues invited him out to this party but i don't really want to go..."

"So you're hoping a conflict arises preventing you from attending this social obligation?" he quipped while smiling.

"Actually, i was hoping maybe you know the person hosting the party and wouldn't mind attending? It'd be nice to see a familiar face there when my boyfriend inevitably ditches me."

Her eyes met the floor as she spoke her last sentence, an action that didn't go unnoticed. The topic of her significant other wasn't mentioned often, in fact, most times Eddie forget she even had a boyfriend. Of the times he was passively mentioned in conversation, Eddie got the impression that he wasn't the nicest person and that she wasn't entirely happy with him. He tried his best to set aside those thoughts, thinking they were definitely biased and he might be reading too much into the situation.

"Does this mysterious party host have a name?" he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

"Tom Silverman i think, have you heard of him?" she asked, hope radiating from her eyes.

"As luck would have it, he's friends with my buddy Gareth! I could probably make an appearance." he teased.

"Yeah? Think you could make time in your busy schedule for me?" she reciprocated.

"For you? Anything."

_

The drive back to her place felt like a blur. Her mind was clouded with thoughts of her earlier interaction with Eddie paired with the excitement of spending time with him later at the party. She loved her boyfriend, she really did, but...

She couldn't bring herself to say it, let alone think it. The reality was, he didn't treat her the way she wanted to be treated. Hell, the way she deserved to be treated. Prior to them moving to Hawkins, Samuel had cheated on her for months on end with a close friend of hers. The betrayal was unforgivable, at least, that's what she thought at the time. Samuel had a way of getting into her head, planting ideas of his own and spinning the truth in ways that would make her question everything.

Following the infidelity, he had managed to convince her that the best way to make amends and save their relationship would be to move away from their hometown. Far from all distractions so they could focus on rebuilding what was broken. This was far from what she wanted, now more than ever since meeting Eddie. He was always so kind to her, a luxury far too often stripped away in her current relationship with Samuel. She loved how she felt when she was around Eddie, even in their strictly platonic relationship.

The hypocrisy of the situation made her want to melt away into a big pile of nothingness. She could feel herself growing fonder of Eddie with each passing interaction, no matter how mundane they were. Something as simple as Eddie asking her about her weekend, or when her birthday was, warmed her heart. Did Samuel even care to remember? He forgot about it last year.

Guilt was eating away at her the more her feelings grew. She would never cheat on Samuel, knowing all too well how heart wrenching of an experience that is to go though. Despite that, she couldn't help the gnawing feeling of infidelity as she felt her feelings for Eddie become more prominent and the distance between her and her partner growing. It wasn't all her fault of course, she suspected Samuel was still up to no good whenever the phone would ring at odd times throughout the night and he'd shoot out of bed to answer it. She knew interrogating him was no use, so she kept mental notes of all the occurrences, in hopes of one day working up the courage to leave him.

Apart from him persuading her into staying, there was also the web of lies she felt she had to uphold to avoid judgement from her loved ones, Eddie included. She felt awful lying to him about the reason for her move, but at the time, thought it was necessary for some sense of self-preservation.

As she pulled into her apartment complex, her racing thoughts came to a halt. She put the car in park, let out a sigh and made her way into the building. Once inside, she was met with none other than Samuel, already plastered at 4:48pm, the party wasn't until 9pm. This would make for a long grueling night. She quietly greeted him before excusing herself to go freshen up.

Samuel's work friends arrived shortly after she got into the shower, the sudden ruckus alerting her of their presence. She hurried out of the shower so to not hog the bathroom for too long and tried sneaking into their shared bedroom without alerting the group. Her efforts were overshadowed by a distasteful comment made from one of the men. She wasn't sure what bothered her more, the unsolicited remark about her body from a complete stranger, or the fact that her boyfriend, the man who was supposed to look out for her, laughed and entertained such disrespectful banter.

The frustration made tears well up in her eye as she quickly shut the bedroom door and locked it, hoping she wouldn't have to face the men for a few more hours until they had to leave. All the while, the only thing keeping her sane was the prospect of seeing Eddie later.

_

Eddie was a bundle of nerves from the moment he clocked out of work until he pulled up to the party with Gareth. Six pack in hand, he nervously made his way towards the front door before being stopped by his companion.

"Hey man, there's nothing to be nervous about, alright? If you wanna leave at any point, just let me know."

Gareth's reassuring words did little to alleviate Eddie's stress, but it was still nice for him to know that he had support tonight. With that in mind, he gave his friend an anxious smile and they let themselves into party.

Upon first glance, the party was lively and everyone was having a great time. The pair made their way towards the kitchen to put their beer in the fridge, then made an attempt at finding the host to greet him. Eddie had never met Tom, but had heard good things about him through their mutual friend. Whilst on the hunt for him, Eddie's eyes made contact with a sad looking girl sitting alone on a dingy sofa in the back of the living room, red solo cup in hand. He excused himself from Gareth and quickly made his way over to his friend. The moment their eyes locked, excitement was riddled on her face. She jumped off the couch and embraced him in what was arguably the best hug he had ever received.

"You came!!" she exclaimed, visibly intoxicated.

"I'm a man of my word." he said in a playful tone, placing a hand on his heart.

She playfully shoved his shoulder while taking a sip from her drink, giggling the entire time.

"So uh, where's your boyfriend? Am i finally gonna meet the man of the hour?" Eddie's tone was less than enthusiastic, through no fault of his own. Luckily she was too drunk to notice.

"Well," she began, "as presumed, i have been abandoned. Yet again!" although she tried covering it up with a laughter, her eyes gave away her true emotion.

"Well," he said mimicking her tone, "i am more than happy to entertain you until he gets back."

He could have sworn he saw a faint tint of pink painted on her cheeks for a moment. A tender smile was shared between the two before he was abruptly shoved by an unknown subject who was quick to wrap an arm around her.

"Oh sorry man" the lack of sympathy along with his cocky grin gave away the man's identity.

Samuel.

"Don't sweat it, man." Eddie retorted, annoyance prevalent on his face.

She gave Eddie an apologetic look before introducing the two. Her boyfriend quickly brushed off the pleasantries and turned his attention back to his girlfriend.

"Where have you been babe?" he slurred, his hold on her arm becoming increasingly tighter. Her discomfort was clear and as Eddie was about to intervene, she calmly lifted his arm off of her while stating: "Waiting for you, babe." her tone replicating the one Eddie had adopted moments ago.

Samuel grew annoyed, muttering something under his breath before once again, disappearing into the crowd.

"He seems friendly." Eddie stated in an attempt to break the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry about him, he's... not the best at introductions."

"No kidding..."

Moments passed without further dialogue, Eddie debated mentioning his concerns but felt it wasn't his place. I mean really, how would he even put into words what he was thinking? 'Hey, you know that douchebag boyfriend of yours? Yeah, he doesn't deserve you'.

"Well," she broke the silence, "I better go check on him, will you stay a while?"

"As long as you need me" he responded.

She shot him a warm smile before venturing into the crowd to find Samuel. Eddie waited until she was outside of his line of vision before letting his smile falter. He quickly ushered to the fridge to grab a can of beer to calm his nerves. The rush of euphoria from seeing her accompanied with the displeasure of meeting Samuel left him feeling very disgruntled. He was zoned out, sipping the beer in his hands relentlessly, when he felt a hand tap him on the bicep. Turning his attention towards the person to his right, he was met with a familiar face.

"Hey, you alright?" Gareth asked, concern prevalent in his tone.

"Nah man, wanna go have a smoke?"

_

The initial effects of the alcohol she had consumed in an attempt to numb herself seemed to have faded away quickly following Samuel and Eddie's interaction. As much as she wanted to spend the night with Eddie and let her boyfriend mingle on his own, she felt obligated to go looking for him. The party wasn't held at a mansion by any means, but it certainly wasn't a small house. After searching for what seemed like 25 minutes, she finally found Samuel along with a few of his friends in a bedroom in the basement. Upon entering, the first thing she noticed was a dark green colored table with small plastic bags on it, filled with what looked to be pills. She was quickly ushered into the room and prompted to lock the door before being urged to sit down.

"Sam, what are you doing-"

"Babe, baby, hi!" his tone was drastically different from their previous encounter. He seemed much more erratic and his pupils were blown out.

"Are you okay? I've been looking for you-"

"Yeah. Yeah, yeah. I'm great baby. How are you?"

His frantic eyes and antsy demeanor, accompanied by the unknown substance beside him gave her all the context she needed: He was high. She contemplated her next move, being careful not to upset him.

"I'm fine," she started, "actually, i'm a little tired, i think i'm ready to go home." She knew little could be done to grant her wishes at this point given that she had had far too much to drink to operate a vehicle and Samuel was much less equipt to in this state.

"What... Really? No baby, the night's just starting. You're not having fun?" She was getting ready to answer before being abruptly cut off, his question apparently rhetorical. "I know what will help. Have this." He grabbed her hand and placed one of the chalky pills in her palm.

"I'm not doing drugs, Sam." she said firmly.

"Do you trust me?"

She paused, knowing this was a trap. This wasn't the first time he'd used this tactic to get her to do something she didn't want to. Her delay in responding seemed to aggravate him and he was quick to snap at her.

"Fine, go home then. I just wanted to have a nice time with you tonight. S'what i get for trying." He began shifting his body away from her, turning his attention back to the group.

Through no fault of her own, it had been hard-wired into her brain that in order to avoid an argument and mental torture for the next week, it was easier to agree with whatever he was saying.

"No, no! It's just..."

"You're scared?" his friend said while snickering.

"I've just never done this before..." she replied looking away so no one could see her anxiety ridden expression.

Samuel cupped her face with his hands, an act of intimacy he hadn't shown in years. She melted into his touch, craving to feel a sense of worthiness. "Baby, you'll be fine. I took it and feel amazing. We'll feel amazing together and i'll take care of you if you don't feel good. I promise."

Samuel had often made promises he couldn't keep, and although the little voice in the back of her mind was screaming for her to walk away, she fell victim to his manipulation once again. They exchanged a few promising words to one another before she swallowed the small narcotic, internally comforting herself: 'What's the worst that could happen?'

_

Following a much needed cigarette break and pep talk from Gareth, Eddie composed himself and entered the house once again. Once inside, he scanned the room in an attempt to spot out his friend, but was unsuccessful. He figured she might be using the restroom or mingling with people around the house and decided to enjoy his second and final beer of the night with Gareth.

_

20 minutes had passed since she took the unknown substance from her boyfriend, and up until this point, she had convinced herself that she probably wouldn't feel it, or that if she did, it would feel the same as marijuana. But oh, she was wrong. So very wrong. She noticed her heart began to beat faster and her palms were significantly more damp than before. She felt this overwhelming sense of anxiety wash over her and her ears began to ring. Still sat next to Samuel, she grabbed ahold of his arm in a subtle attempt at getting his attention. Whether he was too high to notice or purposely ignoring her, he had no reaction to her touch. Initially feeling embarrassment, she put that feeling aside and decided to vocalize her distress.

"Baby, i don't feel good, m'heart's beating really fast and-" words kept spilling out of her mouth at a much faster rate than she normally spoke. The chatter in the room never faltered, the noise adding fuel to the fire, making her anxiety worsen. Samuel eventually cut her off, insisting on the fact that she was fine. His invalidation floored her feeling of distress, her heartbeat increasing in speed. She could now hear it in her ears. "I don't like this baby, i wanna go home. Please, can we go home." she pleaded, tears starting to form in her eyes.

Samuel grew annoyed with her, his high being compromised by his girlfriend's distress. He offered to take her to a different room, away from all the noise and she agreed, the commotion from the room she was currently in proving to be too much. Luckily for her, there was an additional guest room in the basement, one that was currently vacant. The prospect of spending one on one time with her boyfriend, especially while in such a vulnerable state brought a great deal of comfort to her. That sense of relief was short lived as he stated that he wanted to get back to his friends, insisting on her trying to get some sleep.

Unbeknownst to her, the drug she took was a stimulate, making sleeping next to impossible. Information that Samuel conveniently didn't mention for his own benefit.

He tucked her into bed and promised that if she called out for him he'd be there within seconds. With a kiss goodnight and more reassuring words, he shut the light, closed the door and headed back to the adjacent bedroom to continue his antics. She was left with her wandering anxious thoughts, but tried her best to fall asleep.

After a short while, her attempts were unsuccessful and her anxiety worsened. She tried to calm herself down to no avail and resorted to calling for her boyfriend. No answer. She tried once more, this time a little louder. Still nothing. Time seemed to escape her. She wasn't sure if an hour or 5 minutes had passed. All she knew was that she had been calling for him for what seemed like forever, to no avail. The most hurtful part of it all was overhearing him talking and laughing with his friends in the adjacent room. Surely if she could hear him, he could hear her? Perhaps he was choosing to ignore he cries for help. The idea of getting out of bed to venture into the other room was far too overwhelming in this state, so she settled into bed, holding onto the sheets tightly and hoped that he would come check up on her soon.

_

With almost an hour having passed since he had last seen her, Eddie grew concerned. He figured with the amount of time that had passed, it wasn't unreasonable to ask the other party goers if they had seen her.

His efforts, although valiant, were unsuccessful. Once he established that she wasn't on the main floor, he decided to wander around the house in hopes of running into her. When he overheard Samuel and a group of men cackling in the basement, he made his way down the stairs.

Once he reached to bottom of steps, he noticed a source of light coming from a closed door, the secondary living room he was now standing in vacant and dark. 'Mystery solved.' he thought, she must be in there with Samuel and his friends. As he started up the stairs again, he stopped dead in his tracks when he heard a faint voice coming from the back of the basement. He slowly made his way towards the unlit room and placed an ear against the closed door. That's when he heard it again, only this time, he recognized her voice, calling out for her boyfriend.

Eddie wasted no time opening the door, only to find her laying in bed in the dark. He carefully made his was towards her, crouching down to her level.

"Hey, hey. It's Eddie. Are you okay?" he gently asked. The only response heard was a series of whimpers. Once his eyes adjusted to the darkness, his heart broke. The light from the living room that leaked into the guest room reflected off of her tear stained cheeks and puffy eyelids; she had been crying for quite some time. Eddie wasn't an expert on body language, but judging from her tight grip on the bed sheets and her limbs curled into the fetal position, he could tell she was scared.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, you're safe. I promise. Do you need water? I'll get you anything you need, just tell me..." he stopped himself from uttering anything else, worried he would overwhelm her with questions. After pausing for a moment, he swallowed his pride before asking: "Do you need me to get Samuel?"

She let out a soft cry, her grip on the bed sheets tightening. The mere mention of his name reminded her of the betrayal she felt. He promised he would look after her, but didn't. Instead, he left her in such a vulnerable state, a state she never wanted to be in in the first place.

In her best attempt at composing herself, she was able to mutter out a sentence before her breathe hitched again: "I wanna go home, please." she buried her face in the covers as her body shook, a combination of crying excessively and the drug shaking her form. She was so cold, no amount of heat from the blankets seemed to help.

"Okay, okay, i'll get you home. Just... One minute. I'll be right back, i promise."

Eddie carefully got up and exited to room, gently shutting the door. He made his was towards the room Samuel was in, politeness the last thing on his mind as he barged in. He glanced around the room, noticing the drugs littered across the table, then met Samuel's gaze.

"Are you aware that your girlfriend is crying her eyes out 10 feet away from you?" he spat, shooting daggers at him.

There was a moment of silence, followed by snickering from a few of the men in the room. One of them who, Eddie could only assume was a friend of Samuel's spoke up. "Jesus, what a buzz kill, you owe me for that pill, Sam."

It all clicked. Eddie's vision blurred in what could only be described as a cloud of fury. The echo's of their laughter only fueled his rage as he started putting together what had happened. With every ounce of restraint he could muster, he gave Samuel once last death glare before storming out, being mindful not to slam the door to prevent startling her in the other room.

Slowly opening the door, he tried to come up with the best plan on how to proceed. The two beers he had drank over the last 2 1/2 hours were in no way enough to inebriate him and he knew she needed to be taken home. Once again crouched down by the bedside, he gently placed a hand on her shoulder and began speaking softly.

"Hey, it's Eddie. I can take you home, just need to know your address."

Her crying had subsided but she was shivering and grinding her teeth uncontrollably, a side effect Eddie recognized from whatever drug she had taken. Her lack of response prompted him to try again, this time in a much softer tone.

"Sweetheart, i'll take you home just please, i don't know where you live. Do you have your house keys? Where do you and Samuel live?"

The whimpers that left her lips broke his heart. Eddie figured if he couldn't get an answer out of her in this environment, maybe removing the stress factor would help.

"Okay, can you stand up for me? Here, let's get you up"

As he began helping her from the bed, her sudden exclamation startled him. "No! Please, m'really cold. I need a blanket." Distress painted across her face as she wrapped her arms around her frame, Eddie pondered what the best option would be. After a few seconds, he figured Gareth could deal with the repercussion of his next action later.

"Okay, come on, i've got you." he said as he gently wrapped the giant comforter around her shoulders, guiding her out of the room.

Once they arrived at the base of the steps, he grabbed the excess blanket that was previously dragging along the floor to prevent her from tripping. She was unsteady from the drug, her legs felt like they were made of jelly. Eddie helped her up the stairs, supporting the majority of her weight. Once they reached the main floor, he directed her towards the sofa she was sitting on earlier in the evening and helped her down onto the soft cushion.

"Wait right here." he said in a caring voice. As he began getting up from his crouched position, he felt a cold, damp hand grabbing his.

"Wait, wait, where are you going?" her voice was low but filled with worry. He turned to her, finally getting a good look at her face since being in the dark basement and his heart sank. He tried his best not to show any signs of concern, but this proved to be challenging. Her normally light hazel eyes were almost completely black. Her hair was disheveled and her face slightly puffy from crying.

Eddie had been around plenty of people under the influence before, but never anyone he felt such deep adoration for. It was torture seeing her like this. He once again crouched down so he could meet her eye level and gave her hand a gentle reassuring squeeze. "I've just gotta find Gareth to let him know i'm leaving. I drove him here, don't want him to be stranded. I'll be right back, i promise."

Her gaze softened a bit, and with a small nod, Eddie took that as a go ahead to proceed with his plan. He lifted her hand up to his mouth to give it a quick kiss before getting up to find his friend.

Luckily, with one quick sweep of the main floor, he was able to find Gareth and get him up to speed on the situation.

"What a prick, we should fight that guy."

"Yeah, normally i would agree but i gotta get her outta here. Are you cool finding a ride home tonight?"

"Oh ya, don't sweat it! I can always just crash here if it comes down to it. Get her home safe."

"Thanks man, i'll see you later."

Gareth patted him on the shoulder and with that, Eddie made his way back to the sofa. "Alright, let's get you home, yeah? Up you go."

Taking the same precautionary steps he did while going up the stairs, they made their way out the door to Eddie's van. He helped her into the passenger's side, carefully closing the door and hurried over to the driver's side. Once in, he buckled both of their seatbelts, started the car and began driving away. Once the car was nicely heated and her shivering had subsided, he figured it would be a good time to try to find out the location he should be driving to.

"So uh, am i going the right way? Do you live close by?"

He glanced over at her, smiling sweetly once they made eye contact. She returned the smile, but the sadness displayed on the rest of her features made her true feelings apparent.

"We're far" she mumbled, "i live next to work..."

Eddie sighed internally. He didn't mind the drive, he was more concerned about her having to sit in a car for 45 minutes. "Alright, i'll get us to work and you can tell me where to go from there, yeah? You have your house keys?"

She paused to think and let out a defeated breath upon realizing; their shared house key was kept on Samuel's lanyard. She brought her hands to her face in despair and began apologizing profusely. Eddie wasn't quite sure what she was apologizing for, or to who even. He softly put a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, gently moving his thumb over the blanket that was still draped over her.

"It's okay, look we're not that far from Tom's place. I'll turn the car around and we can get the key. I can go in, you don't even have to leave the car-"

She shook her head in quick motions, her hands dropping from her face suddenly. "No, i can't, i'm..." she trailed off, turning to face the passenger's window.

The silence was broken by small cries leaving her mouth. Eddie slowly pulled off to the side of the road and put the car in park so he could focus all of his attention on helping her as best as he could.

"Are you worried he'll be upset?" he began, trying to get to the root of the problem. His question was met with more tears falling from her eyes. Her breathing was becoming more erratic and her hands began to shake. Eddie was torn, he knew she desperately needed to get home, but at what cost? He couldn't live with himself knowing that once he dropped her off, she would be left alone to face that jerk again. He made a snap decision, once again choosing to deal with the potential consequences in the morning.

"Alright, let's go to my place for now. It's not that far from here and we can figure out what to do from there, yeah? Is that okay?"

In an unexpected turn of events, her crying stopped almost immediately following his words. "Can i please stay there tonight?" she muttered softly, eyes glued to the floor of his van.

She knew it might be asking too much, but the thought of facing her boyfriend tonight was too much to handle. Eddie's eyes widened, but he quickly composed himself before responding. "Of course, anything you need."

_

Obeying the rules of the road was out of character for Eddie, especially when it came to speeding, but tonight was different. He made sure to make the drive to his trailer as peaceful as possible for her, not wanting to worsen her distress.

Once there, he was relieved to see Wayne's truck was gone. At least she wouldn't have to worry about his uncle seeing her in this state.

He quickly hurried her inside and onto the sofa before scrambling around the trailer gathering anything he deemed might be of use. He came back into the living room with additional blankets, a glass of water and a can of soda from the fridge, setting them down on the table. He proposed switching out the blanket for a fresh one, doubting the cleanliness of the one currently wrapped around her.

"S'too cold." she slurred, grinding her teeth once again.

Eddie knew better than to try to rationalize with her so he thought of a solution that would make for the blanket swap to be more pleasant. He grabbed one of the blankets, walked over to the dryer and tossed it in. Making his way back to the living room, he picked up the can of soda to open it and slid closer to her on the table. "Here, have a sip, you must be really thirsty."

Up until he mentioned it, she hadn't noticed how dry her mouth was, or how chapped her lips felt. Now that she was in a comfortable place and felt safe, the fear and adrenaline wearing off, she was very aware of the physical discomforts she was feeling. She quickly grabbed the cup of water, opting for the least cold drink made available and downed the liquid within seconds. Eddie's eyebrows raised and he let out a small chuckle. She met his gaze with a shy smile, clearly embarrassed by the intensity of her gulps. Their exchange of grins was interrupted by a shrill ringing coming from the hallway; the dryer alerting them of it's cycle being complete. Eddie shuffled over to it, quickly returning to the living room with the warmed up blanket.

"Here, feel this." he started, placing a corner of the fluffy material in her hands "Nice and warm for ya. How about we get rid of that dingy old thing?" he said gesturing to the stain riddled comforter.

She agreed with a nod, preparing herself for the sharp cold she would feel once the blanket was no longer on her. Eddie attempted to make the switch as seamless as possible, quickly wrapping the fabric around her. Once the warm blanket was snug around her, Eddie lightly tugged on either side in a playful motion. Their faces were mere inches from one another, he wished they could stay this close forever.

"Better?" he inquired in a soothing voice.

She nodded in response. "Thank you."

He stayed crouched in front of her, his hands remaining on the blanket for longer than he probably should have. He scolded himself internally, before retreating onto the adjacent chair. She instantly missed his presence.

It was fairly late at this point, the clock reading 1:04am. Eddie knew she wouldn't be getting much sleep while the drug was still in her system, but offered to set her up in his bedroom, reassuring her that he would take the pull out bed, not wanting to cross any boundaries or make her uncomfortable. She pondered for a few moments before agreeing. They walked over to the back of the trailer, Eddie leading the way with the extra blankets in hand. He breached the entryway of his bedroom and thanked his past self for tidying up the mess that was littering his bedroom floor earlier in the day.

Once there, she took in her surroundings admiring all the art and little trinkets laying around. Eddie grew nervous from the extended period of silence and cleared his throat before saying "Is this okay?" referring to her sleeping arrangement for the night.

"S'cozy." she responded with a warm smile. She made her way towards the bed and plopped down rather sloppily, her legs still feeling like they could give away at any second. She settled into bed and he began turning off the lamps, pausing before switching off the last one.

"Want this one on?"

"Yes please" she responded quietly from under the blankets. She had the soft material pulled up to her nose and was laying on her side watching him maneuver around the room.

"You got it" he said, a dorky smile painted on his face as he turned to look at her. Despite still appearing strung out, Eddie was enamored by her. He always thought she was beautiful, her current state never wavered that. He thought she looked especially adorable all tucked into his bed, her eyes glistening with gratitude and what appeared to be admiration. She closed her eyes for a brief moment letting out a content sigh, the feeling of safety and comfort engulfing her like a warm hug.

Eddie took this as a sign he should retreat to the living room, making sure to wish her goodnight, as well as reassuring her that she could call for him at any point in time if she needed anything. Although she had been let down earlier by a similar unkept promise, she knew Eddie meant every word he said.

Once in the living room, Eddie opted to sit on the sofa for a while to ensure that if she did call out for him, he would be awake and ready to help. He turned on the television in hopes of keeping his mind busy, his thoughts currently consumed with the image of her in his bed. He despised his heart for making him feel so fondly of someone who was in a relationship, albeit an unhealthy one. Was it so wrong for him to hope that she would leave him? The rage he felt accompanied by sorrow for the way she was treated tonight was overbearing. With a grunt, he stood up from his seat and made his way to the refrigerator in hopes that there would be a cold beer stashed somewhere in there. Wayne wasn't opposed to him drinking his supply, so long as he replaced what was taken. Behind the milk carton were two cans of Pabs Blue Ribbon. He grabbed one of the cans and headed back to the sofa, making sure to open it slowly to minimize the noise from the aluminum cracking.

_

The second Eddie had left the bedroom, the feeling of anxiety she had previously felt slowly crept it's way back into her core. She shook her leg in an attempt at self-soothing, trying her best to remind herself that she was safe now. She knew that she could call for Eddie at any point and that he would be back in the room within seconds, but the feeling of embarrassment and fear of bothering him prevented her from doing so. She tossed and turned, trying to get to sleep without success. Out of frustration she sat up from the bed, the blanket still wrapped over her head in a cocoon shape. She began looking around the room once more, admiring the posters on his wall. His bedroom was exactly as she had pictured it to be. Having only seem him in their work uniform up until tonight, his haircut and ringed fingers had given her a pretty good idea of what his style would be; his bedroom reflecting that perfectly.

His bedroom was quaint and felt like home. A feeling she hadn't felt in years since being with Samuel.

Samuel.

The mere thought of him sent a cold shudder through her that shook her form. She worried about his reaction to her not being home once he arrived at their apartment. He always accused her of infidelity, likely projecting onto her his own bad behavior, and would surely lash out at her the next time he saw her. She began to spiral, images of past mistreatments and abuse at the hand of her partner crashed into her like a violent wave. Tears streamed down her cheeks uncontrollably, as they had many times before.

She had spent many nights crying into a towel in the bathroom alone so she wouldn't wake him with the sound of her whimpers, as he laid in their shared bed without a care in the world. He lacked the ability to comfort her, expressing it many times, usually by saying: "i don't know what you want from me". In those moments a simple reassuring hug would have sufficed, or any act of compassion or intimacy, but he didn't care. Not then, and certainly not now. This sudden realization was all too much for her to handle in this moment.

She desperately needed comfort. She attempted to compose herself before slowly creeping out of bed and pausing at the ajar door. Part of her knew it was wrong, but the desperate need for consoling overshadowed the morality of her decision. In a barely audible tone, she called Eddie's name and waited nervously inches from the door. Almost instantly, she heard him getting up from the sofa and walk hurriedly to the back of the trailer. The door opened quickly startling her and Eddie let out a small yelp, not expecting to see her standing so close to the door.

"Jesus," he let out with a sigh, clutching his chest. "Sorry, ah, i thought you'd be in bed." After recovering from the small arrythmia he was almost certain he suffered, he chuckled and asked, "Everything okay?"

Upon his arrival, a sense of dread and self-loathing washed over her. She feared rejection but also reprimanding from Eddie. He knew she had a boyfriend, and had been so considerate of that all night, was she really about to ask him if he could sleep in the same bed? It wasn't in a sexual way, but somehow the lather felt worse. Seeking emotional intimacy from someone other than the person she was dating? She felt despicable. The worse form of betrayal in her mind was emotional infidelity, which is exactly what had been taking place over the last few months. She couldn't be blamed though, not entirely. Her absent and neglectful partner had driven her into the arms of a more caring, emotionally intelligent man and for that, he only had himself to blame.

"S'worse when you're out there. Can you stay here? Please..." she managed to mutter.

Eddie's heart skipped a beat. He would do anything she'd ask to help her feel better. "Yeah! Yeah, of course. Let me go get the extra blankets and a pillow and i'll set up on the fl-"

"Could you sleep next to me?"

Her broken tone of voice shattered him. It had become very apparent to him that her relationship was far more damaging than it appeared to be on the surface. Every question she had asked him, whilst in her most vulnerable state, had a sad undertone expecting rejection. The mention of her partner's name alone had caused her intense distress. Without letting another second go by, he sprung into action. He gently agreed and motioned towards the bed, letting her get comfortable before climbing in himself. Not wanting to cross any boundaries or make her feel uncomfortable, Eddie held off on laying down. Instead, he sat up on the bed with his back against the wall, trying to take up as little space as possible as he nonchalantly stared ahead.

She was laying on her side facing him, when he caught a glimpse of her looking up at him. He turned to face her, trying to think of any topic of conversation to hide the fact that he was screaming inside. All the feelings he had for her that he had managed to suppress all this came crashing down on him. She was the girl of his dreams, and she was laying in his bed with him. He quickly shut down those thoughts and focused on her well-being; it was his top priority. He took in her facial features, now that the blanket was no longer covering the bottom half of her face, and noticed she was grinding her teeth still. "Try and relax your jaw." he said with care.

"M'sorry"

"Don't need to apologize," he reassured laughing lightly, "just don't want you to be sore in the morning, is all."

There was a brief moment of silence as her smile grew, then a snort escaped her as she buried her face in the blanket. The innuendo now becoming apparent to Eddie who, also broke out into laughter.

"Oh god, i didn't mean it like that!" was all he managed to say, bringing his palm up to his face. His embarrassment was short-lived, her laughter filling the room was music to his ears.

"I know, s'just funny" she said between giggles.

The room went quiet again, the sound of their breathing being the only audible noise. The effects of the drug were slowly wearing off, evidence of that came from her suddenly yawning.

"Wanna try and get some rest?" he offered.

"That sounds good" she responded.

"Okay, lights on or off?"

"Off please."

"Okay," he said, making his way towards the lamp to shut it off. He excused himself to go turn off the rest of the lights, as well as the TV still playing and made his was back to the room shortly after. He carefully climbed into the bed, this time laying down but still taking up as little room as possible.

Eddie was the kind of sleeper that liked to take up as much of the bed as humanly possible, so he know he wouldn't be getting the best of sleep tonight but he didn't care. Knowing that she was safe meant more to him than a good night's rest. They wished one another goodnight and attempted to drift asleep.

A few minutes of stillness passed, she turned to face him, craving closeness and warmth. Tonight's series of events had proven that Eddie was a gentleman and certainly wasn't the type to take advantage of her or intentionally cross any boundaries. She inched slightly closer to him and whispered: "Can you hold me?"

He hummed in response extending his arms for her to settle in. She nestled into his chest, their bodies fitting perfectly with one another like a puzzle. The feeling of contempt and security she felt while in Eddie's arms was unmatched. It was as if nothing could hurt her as long as he was around. He felt her grip on his shirt tighten slightly, her body pushing onto his in an attempt to get closer. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, feels good. Safe." she replied sleepily. Eddie understood in that moment how touch starved she was. She craved intimacy in it's purest form. He readjusted his arm so he could lightly rub his fingertips on her back soothingly. She was beginning to drift asleep, but was still clenching her jaw, an action Eddie was quick to notice. With his free hand, he lightly cupped the side of her face and rubbed gentle circles on her cheek and jaw in an attempt to sooth her likely sore muscles.

"Try to relax your jaw sweetheart, unclench your teeth." he gently reminded her.

His caring instructions were met with a low hum followed by a barely audible "thank you", the tension in her face releasing almost instantaneously.

Eddie bent down slightly to give the top of her head a kiss while softly uttering: "Goodnight sweetheart.", her only response an even sleepier hum than before. In a matter of seconds, they both drifted to sleep comfortably in each others presence.

_

The end ♡

-

This is my first time posting in a while, i hope you liked it, lmk what you think! xo

[psychedelic-ink]

— CHOOSE ME | SANTI'S ENDING

happy belated birthday @pedrito-friskito 💜💜💜💜 this gift is from both me and @inklore we love you so so much and I hope you had the best birthday ever! thank you for always being such a wonderful friend 💗

pairing: santiago garcia x f!reader

genre: fluff, mild angst, second chance romance, smut

summary: leaving frankie behind, you decide to take your chance with santi. he takes you to the beach where it almost happened.

warnings: underwater sex, piv, praise kink, fingering, semi-public sex, mild breeding kink

word count: 2k

click to head back to the start

The look Frankie gave you when you decided to go with Santi broke your heart, but what’s done was done. You still cared for the pilot, which is why you decided to spare you both from the inevitable fallout that would happen if you gave the relationship another chance. 

“So where are we going?” you ask Santi as he hails a cab. He smirks, gaze full of mischief. 

“You’ll see,” he answers without truly answering. “Let’s just say I’m gonna take back the clock a bit.” 

You have no idea what he means but his smile is infectious and you find yourself vibrating with excitement at all the possibilities that lay before you.

You look down the pier. The water is a vibrant shade of dark blue. Silver light dances over the soft waves, a gift from the crescent moon above. You shiver at the cold wind blowing, yet you crave the feeling of water against your skin. 

Among all the places you never once thought Santi would bring you back here, the place where a kiss was almost shared. 

A particularly big wave crashes against the wooden pillars. Beads of water kissing the tips of your shoes. 

“Your silence is worrying,” Santi quips as he stands next to you above the pier. 

You shake your head and smile. “It’s perfect,” you say, turning to him. “I’m glad you brought me here.” 

“That’s a relief,” he hugs you from behind, strong arms tight around your waist. “I always regretted not kissing you that night.” 

“Really? And here I thought I just read the signs wrong  from that night.” 

“You read them right,” he murmurs, lips moving along your cheek and dropping to your neck. “But. . . I saw the way Frankie had been looking at you for the past month and couldn’t.” 

Your hands dance along his forearms, warm underneath the pads of your fingers. “What changed now?” 

“He had his chance and he blew it,” You feel a hint of teeth on your skin, your lips part with a soft gasp. “I’m not going to let you go ever again.”

You’re speechless and your pulse skyrockets. Santi seems to be taking immense joy in your loss-of-words state as he smiles. His forefinger finds your chin, you shudder at how warm it feels, tilting your eyes to meet his, he smiles. “Let’s take a dip, cariño,” he says. 

“In the water?” you choke out a laugh. “We’ll freeze this late at night.”  

“We won’t freeze,” he answers. His hands begin tracing the contours of your body, heat blossoming under your skin. “Besides, I have ideas of how we can keep warm.” 

“Look, even if I wanted to, I don’t have my swimsuit with me.” 

He laughs, “I would’ve find it very off if you did. Who comes to a wedding with a swimsuit?” 

“So what do you suggest then?” you ask, turning within his arms to face him.

He raises an eyebrow, lips curling with mischievous humor. 

“You have underwear don’t you?” his eyes shine underneath the moonlight. “Unless you’re going commando. . . ” Santi’s eyes drop to your cleavage as if imagining what your bare breasts will look like. You flush from the inside out, stomach clenching at his mere gaze.

His presence coils around you like a snake, squeezing the air out of your lungs, he leans closer, crowding your personal space. His lips touch yours, warmth blossoming underneath the soft skin. You suck in a sharp breath, your bodies inch closer, and you can almost taste him in the air lingering between you two. 

But he pulls away, leaving you searching for more. 

“Come on,” he repeats, his fingers tracing your jawline. “Let me see every part of you. I’ll go first since you’re so shy.” 

He takes a step back, his eyes never leaving yours, his fingers moving to the buttons of his shirt. With a deliberate slowness, he undoes them one by one, revealing the smooth expanse of his chest. The moonlight dances over the contours of his muscles, highlighting every curve and ridge.

Your breath catches as he discards his shirt, revealing more of his torso. He's strong and lean, with a hint of stubble peppering his chest. A cascade of emotions washes over you – desire, vulnerability, and a touch of disbelief that you're here.

Santi's gaze remains locked on yours, tenderness in his eyes. He gestures for you to come closer, his hand extending towards you. Your fingers tremble slightly as you reach out and let your fingertips graze his skin.

The sensation sends shivers down your spine. Santi's warmth against your touch is inviting.

"Your turn," he says softly, his voice a gentle invitation. 

You take a steadying breath, feeling a mixture of nervousness and excitement. With a shy smile, you start unzipping your dress, baring your collarbone and a hint of your chest. The moonlight seems to embrace you, offering a comforting backdrop.

As your dress falls to the ground, you stand there, allowing the heat of his gaze to wash over you. In this quiet exchange, words become secondary.

Then Santi suddenly jumps. 

“H-Hey!” you call out, worried. You’re left only in your bra and underwear as you look down. Santi’s there, waiting for you, droplets of water dripping from his hair. You shudder, skin tingling with goosebumps. His brows furrow with worry when he meets your gaze. 

“Come on, jump in. You’re going to freeze up there.” 

“Sorry, the longer I stare the more scared I get,” your body trembles, but a soft smile tugs at your lips. “You promise not to let me drown?” 

“Of course.” 

And you jump. 

It's a bit daunting at first. You've never been one to easily open your eyes underwater, dreading the sting of salt against them. The initial coolness of the water sends a shiver down your spine, a sensation akin to steel touching your skin. Your limbs sway as you kick your legs and move your arms, the anticipation of resurfacing tugging at your senses. Yet, something surprising happens – the water's chill begins to recede, replaced by a comforting warmth that wraps around you like a gentle embrace. 

Santi holds you, his hands firm against your body, he pulls you up and you gasp for air, filling your lungs with sweet oxygen. 

“Are you alright?” 

“Yeah, thanks,” you open your eyes, smiling when you see him. “I’m still cold by the way.” you lie.

Santi grins, pulling you tighter. Your chest is flushed against his, your breasts pour out of your laced bra, his lips only an inch away. His nails catch against the small of your back, a tingle rushes up your spine, and you move closer. Your eyes drop to his glistening lips.

Santi, assuming that you’re still cold, tightens his grip and inches closer. He finally gives you what you want. Your lips move against his. It starts out slow, gradually becoming more needy. You press your thighs together when he licks the seam of your lips. You part for him and feel his tongue inside of your mouth. Santi takes what you have to offer with greed, he sucks your tongue into his mouth, hands dropping to your hips, he grinds himself into your aching heat. 

You part away with a moan. As your hands cradle his neck, he nips the skin above your chin. Santi continues to force your hips up against his own, you can feel the drag of his cock between your clothed folds. 

“F–Fuck,” you wrap your legs around him, water sloshes around the two of you, the salt burns your tongue.  

“Look at you with the sailor's mouth,” he teases, thick fingers pull at the waistband of your panties. “Did you ever think about me, mi amor?” 

“I have,” you confess, albeit slightly guiltily. “I have,” you repeat without indulging further. 

His body reacts in a way that surprises you. He hunches over, fingers finding your clit, he starts to draw short, quick circles. The pleasure is electrifying, it takes you everything not to accidentally drown you both. Santi’s lips follow a path that ends at the curve of your right breast, he sucks, teeth digging into the ample flesh. You let out a sharp moan when he thrusts two of his fingers, heat licks the bottom of your spine. The water, despite your initial thought, doesn’t prove to be a good lubricant, but lucky for you both your body provides enough for him to glide with ease, the slight pain you feel with every drag only makes you want him more. 

Santi pulls out his fingers and forces them between your lips. You moan at the taste of salt and bitterness. He mouths against your earlobe, his voice a pleasant timbre in your ear. 

“So wet for me. Only for me.” he rasps, pushing your body up, his one hand resting on your stomach. He turns you over so you can brace your palms against the wooden pillars of the pier. “You have no idea how many times I thought about that missed moment on the beach. The thing I would’ve done to you if we had only kissed.” 

The husk of his voice makes you shiver. You want to retaliate, reply with something snarky and smart to impress him, but the words die on your tongue as he buries himself into you with one smooth motion. Your mouth fills with water when you gasp. It’s the most intense feeling, your toes curl, nails clawing at the pillar. Your vision is spotted with black dots, jaw slacked. He pulls back his hips only to fuck his cock even deeper into you. His hips slotted into your own, he allows you to drift back, your breasts leisurely moving above the water. Santi uses you as he pleases, you feel lifeless with pleasure, every muscle growing taut and loose, only to repeat itself. He groans and grunts, the noises of rushed waves filling the night. 

His cock is deep, stretching you wide, his thumb circles your clit. Your legs lock up, heat rushing down your stomach and pooling between your legs. 

“I’m gonna come,” you moan, reaching for him. Santi takes you by the hand and pulls you against him, your body now flush against the pillar “Gonna come, gonna come, gonna come–” you repeat like a chant, your whimper following your sinful promise. 

“Don’t. Wait for me,” 

You cry openly, tears flowing down your cheeks, your cunt throbs. He whispers things you assume to be consolations, you only hear the words that make your heart squeeze. 

“Good girl. My good, sweet, girl. You’re doing so well for me. Just a bit more. I’m so close…” 

He speaks in a hushed tone, it soothes you like a frightened animal. He kisses his skin, salt burning his lips. He hammers into you deeper and deeper. You feel only pleasure. You beg him for more. You beg him for less. Your mind is a tornado of mixed emotions and lust. 

Santi spills into you and at the same time bites into your neck, your own orgasm crashes down on you, leaving you limp. White flashes before your eyes, pleasure raking up and down your body as you try to breathe. Santi continues to grind his cock into you, his hand moving over your stomach. 

He pulls out of your carefully, you make a sound between a sigh and a whine. Santi turns you around and continues to hold you, the waves calm once again. 

Santi kisses your neck, then your jaw, and lastly your lips. 

“Never losing you again,” he promises, touching your lips with the pad of his thumb. 

“Good,” you answer, kissing him long and hard. “I’ll never forgive you if you do.”

[pomegranate-pen]

hi there :D!

Ok so... this is my first time requesting in Tumblr and i Saw The announcememt You gave so My mind told me 'why not?' and thougt about a request

(it's about lackadaisy btw)

So this one is about general dating hc's(or oneshot, watever You feel comfortable doing) with Rocky and freckles

The Reader can be female (if You want ofc)

Thanks you for reading My simple request (⁠•⁠ ⁠▽⁠ ⁠•⁠;⁠)

(sorry if there was something wrong)

A/N: heya!!! so here's the Freckle headcanons I mentioned in the last post!!! I decided to also make this with gn!reader, so I hope you don't mind that anon!!! there are also a few people who've requested a cute date with Freckle, so I'll try to do that someday as well! anyway, here ya go everyone!! hope you all enjoy!! BY THE WAY!! I had to take these headcanons out of the bullet format unfortunately, due to tumblr not letting me post it unless that was done, so I hope you guys don't mind that!

Freckle McMurray x gn! reader general dating headcanons!

-If anyone wants to date Freckle Mcmurray, they’d have to be the one to confess and show feelings first. Because Freckle isn’t the most comfortable expressing his feelings or opinions to others, which is often because he’s known as the ‘good kid’ amongst the public and he works with some dangerous people in his true job at the Lackadaisy.

-Though, just like Rocky, how you’ve met him could cause different scenarios, which, unlike his cousin, make you see two completely different sides of him that are not as connected as his cousin's is.

-Met Freckle at the little daisy café? Well, for the longest time, you’ll only see his ‘good kid’ side, the one who stays out of trouble and is keen on keeping quiet, the cat who mumbles most times around you when you ask questions about his life and hides behind a notebook when he’s shy. Though, in time, when conversations do finally get exchanged and he doesn’t hide behind a few pieces of paper anymore to speak to you, you do learn much more about him, just not the part where he’s a talented shooter who enjoys the thrill of shootouts and gets obsessed with it sometimes. or the part where he’s a bootlegger in a close to failing speakeasy and not actually just an errand boy for Mitzi May.

-The reveal of the truth, even the faintest thought of it, shakes Freckle to his core. He never wants you to see it, afraid that it would tarnish the strong friendship you two have and have you become freaked out or afraid of him. So when the truth does slip out, which is most likely during a chase, he’s more stressed out than usual and his tongue has seemed to become twisted, for he doesn’t speak nor say a single word to your or the crew and focuses on the fight instead.

-If you don’t approach him yourself after it, he’d avoid you for weeks and run away when you were in the room, feeling immense guilt for what he’s done and thinking that you must’ve despised him by now. Rocky or Ivy must be the ones who coax him out of the kitchen and convince him to at least, exchange a few pleasantries with you in the day.  

-You’d have to choose your words a bit carefully, and try your best to reassure him that you don’t hate him, but do feel a bit offended that he hasn’t told you the truth. He’d apologize profusely, and the normal conversations would be started over again, but now, with a bit more comfortable Freckle than before, since the cat’s out of the bag, he doesn’t feel the need to be cautious around you when speaking about his life.

-Though yes, you are the one who gets feelings first, he’s the one who falls harder. It takes him a few more months, but when it does kick he’s suddenly reverted a bit back to his past behavior- avoiding you at all costs, yet still saying a ‘hello’ and ‘how are you’ at least before running off.

-This, is the best moment to strike and confess. Though Freckle is not known to be expressive when it comes to showing much joy in the day, nor known for being much of a romantic, the smile and blush he has on when you confess is enough proof that he’s head over heels for you as well.

-There’s not much of a difference from friendship to a relationship with him. you still talk about the same things, though if asked, Freckle would talk about a few extra interests and topics he has such as baseball trivia or a few memories of his childhood with Rocky and his mother.

-Although a few memories are spoken about, not much detail is said on what exactly has happened, or how exactly it all has ended, and unfortunately, no matter how curious or concerned you are, Freckle will not speak about it much more than that.

-His love language is mainly spending time with you, and being comfortable enough to speak to you. He only has conversations with people he considers his friends or cares about, so as his lover, you tend to have the most conversations with him, especially when you’re both alone. The love language he likes to receive most would be the same thing. He values all the moments he can spend with you, so when you go out of your way to make time for him it means a lot, and he feels a bit flustered and guilty about it.

-“you didn’t have to make time for me, I know you were busy with that project this whole week.”

-“it's fine,” you shrugged. “and it’s not a bother at all anyway. I like spending time with you.”

-A beat red Freckle is what you’ll be seeing the whole day after that.

-Freckle isn't the best at romance, so usually, if he does want to use another love language such as gift-giving or words of affirmation, etc, he’s a bit awkward and shy about it. he tends to feel out of his element and a bit stressed when doing so. A few compliments and words of comfort from you are much appreciated.

-You will most likely never meet Nina Mcmurray of Freckle’s own accord, since he for one, never wants you two to meet in fear of her disapproving of your relationship. Though, if the meeting ever does happen, he’d be freaking out the entire time through it. he’d be quiet, yet his eyes were panic-stricken and his tail is wagging everywhere. it’d take him a few cups of tea to start calming down. Nina isn’t the most easiest person to please, so if she does like you, then great! Expect her to invite you for some tea or dinner with Freckle at times, but if not, then though you are probably unwelcome in the house, Freckle reassures you that it won’t affect your relationship with him in anyway, and that you’ll only have to avoid coming to his house, which isn't much of a problem since you both usually spend time elsewhere.

-not at all a PDA person, he feels like it’s a bit disrespectful to kiss or hold hands and flirt while everyone else is in the room. though, he does do very small things such as put his hand on top of yours and caress your fingers under the table, or put a reassuring hand on your shoulder, things that you could only notice and feel to make you feel calm during frustrating times. And if you do them back he’ll melt, and you’d have successfully calmed him down.

-Whether you like it or not, the teasing comments of his dear cousin Rocky will be a part of it all, though mostly targeted at Freckle himself, he does sometimes jab some at you as well, mostly speaking about how you’ve got Freckle wrapped around your finger.

-There are often times when Freckle is questioning his entire morality and life, where he regrets most of the things he’s doing right now, since he’s been taught in a Christian household about how people who do such actions are foul and must be punished. Which, on rare nights, leads to rethinking his entire life and feeling the utmost self-hatred and unworthiness of love. Those are times when you’re needed most, to reassure and comfort in however you can. and despite not believing you when you tell him he’s a good person, if the self-hatred is strong enough, he will, while looking away embarrassed, ask if he can hold your hand or hug you. since those actions bring lots of comfort and warmth to him.

-He’s also quite insecure about his laugh, what he sees as a complete failure in his personality and the thing that makes unfortunate things happen to him. so If you ever compliment him or say you like it, he’d first gawk at you as if you said unicorns were real, then he’d thank you with a stutter and think about your compliment for an entire week, always getting flustered each time the memory comes across his mind.

-If you have any hobbies of your own, he’d happily try them out for you. whether it’s painting, dancing, or anything you’re quite passionate about, he’d like to give it a try at least once, if not for the quality time, then for it to be an excuse to see you smile and rambling on excitedly.

-There will be times when you’re stuck in an extremely dangerous situation alongside Freckle, such as shootouts and gang fights, if you weren’t involved in such fiascos in the first place and were just a normal citizen before meeting him, he does feel guilty for dragging you into it all and does try to minimize the number of times he sees you before finishing up a task. He also tries to usually meet up with you when it's broad daylight and cops are out, which would decrease the number of fights that could happen.

-All in all, he’s a calm and peaceful lover, and although he isn't much verbal about it, he appreciates you much more than you know it.

[devildomwriter]

Reacting to Your First Sonogram | Solomon x Reader

You were a nervous wreck in the waiting room, and Solomon couldn’t stop laughing at you as you were completely unable to sit still in the cushioned seat.

He held your hand to try and calm you down, but you were visibly sweating and started to fan yourself with the gossip magazines on the table.

When your pregnancy test came back positive, Solomon, being the “wise” one, knew all the appointments he needed to book, and you certainly hadn’t expected the first one to be so soon.

You only just found out, and now you were in the waiting room of the building where you’d see your baby for the first time.

Thankfully no one else was in the waiting room, or you’d have made a fool of yourself.

Solomon gave up trying to get you to sit still, so he started reading an outdated gossip column about the British Royals.

You looked around the room at the center table for kids with the beads you could push around, and as some form of comfort, you sat on the floor and started to play with it. Solomon gave you a curious and mildly concerned look before sitting down with you and joining you in the childlike fun.

Just then, the door opened, and Solomon stood up fast enough to not be caught playing with the children’s table.

Your face turned red, and you glared at Solomon. He laughed at your expression and helped you to your feet.

He gave you some hand sanitizer and followed the nurse into a long white-tiled hallway with colorfully painted walls.

In the other rooms with doors slightly ajar, you noticed other women with bellies somewhat larger than yours and became nervous at the idea in a few months’ time; you’d be in the same state.

You wanted to go through with the pregnancy, but you were still very emotionally confused about suddenly being thrown into this situation without prior planning.

He noticed how on edge you seemed and squeezed your hand.

The nurse led you into their only available room and went over the paperwork with you, confirming everything was correct.

They told you where to sit and handed you a gown to change into before leaving.

Solomon leaned against the door to stop any sudden visitors and watched you intensely as you changed out of your shirt and into the flimsy gown.

“Solly, can you help me tie the strings?” You asked him, and he chuckled and nodded.

After observing some of the charts on the wall in awkward silence, the doctor finally arrived.

Solomon greeted the doctor and sat in the seat by your bedside, holding your hand to comfort you.

“How far along?” The doctor asked, and you looked at Solomon, who’d probably know the answer as he always did.

“About six weeks,” he informed, and you nodded along.

The doctor went over some basic facts with you about what the baby was like at six weeks, and further explained how the sonogram would work.

Solomon laughed when you let out an embarrassing “eep” at the cold object over your belly. The doctor laughed too and apologized as he moved the transducer around, looking for the baby’s heartbeat.

Suddenly you became nervous; there might not be one and squeezed Solomon’s hand tighter until finally, you could see it on the screen.

The doctor smiled and pointed it out to you, but you’d already noticed, and you couldn’t take your eyes away from it until you felt Solomon’s grip tighten immensely.

You looked at him worriedly, but his expression was that of awe.

He knew everything he could need to know about children and pregnancy but actually witnessing the tiny movements of a being he in part created was somehow unfathomable.

The doctor offered to record the screen for you, and you and Solomon simultaneously asked that he do so immediately.

He motioned to Solomon and let him hold the transducer, which you weren’t sure was usually allowed, but Solomon was very happy about it.

Solomon looked at you, love in his eyes as he held the transducer over your belly, and he couldn’t help but laugh a little at the joy he was experiencing.

“This is incredible,” he praised, and you beamed excitedly. Solomon hadn’t shown much enthusiasm in the beginning for this but looking at his expression now; you knew he was ready for this and overjoyed to be doing it with you.

[inalandofsadclowns]

When Jack asked why Sam and Dean couldn't know about Cas' deal with the Empty and

Cas: They can. I just don't- I don't want them to. They don't need that burden. You don't need that burden.

Jack: Of course, I do. You did that for me.

Cas: You know, the Empty said that it wouldn't come for me until I had finally given myself permission to be happy. But with everything that we have going on, with Michael still out there, I don't see that happening anytime soon. This life may be a lot of things, but it's rarely happy.

I know. I know that Cas was trying to comfort Jack, in his own, sad way, that he won't be leaving for a long-long time, but...how was this supposed to be comforting??

LOOK AT HIM poor boy is barely holding back tears-

Did Cas believe Jack would be like "fair enough"? That he wouldn't just be more concered after this? You see, a couple of days back Jack was in constant pain and fear of the unknown, because he was very much dying. And he knew that, and his three dads and Rowena knew, and none of them could help...Then Dean took him on a little road trip. He taught Jack to drive, he let him drive the Impala, he bought him junk food then he took him fishing - the same picture Dean remembered from his own favourite childhood memory. And then Jack got to live that, too, and it became his favourite memory as well. It was the happiest he ever felt in his life, even though he was one foot out of life's doorstep while the same threat of Michael loomed over the world even then. And he still gave himself over to happiness, because he realized, he didn't need to go to Vegas or Tahiti to get it, in fact, the purest kind of joy is often in the little things and they always shine the brightest. That's right, even standing by the door of death. And now, he's left wonering, what keeps Castiel from true happiness, that he's certain it's not going to happen soon?

If Jack read between the lines, Cas' reassurement had only made Jack recognise something immensely sad and unreachable within him.

Oh, and the bonus

Can't forget this absolute gem.

[thedrarrylibrarian]

I’ve thought long and hard about how I wanted to celebrate Pride month on this blog in 2023. My first year for Pride, I did a list of fics that were meaningful to me as a Queer person (just FYI - I identify as Bi and/or Queer. If reading the word Queer over and over is going to bother you, this post is not going to be for you). Last year, I did an inclusive list where I tried to find a fic to include every letter of LGBTQIA. But this year feels different, for a lot of reasons.

One is the ongoing homophobia and transphobia that the Queer community is facing, and very important to note, from J.K. Rowling in particular. A slew of new bills and laws that are designed to oppress, to eradicate, to force us back into closets, and to prevent anyone else from daring to leave the closet in the first place. Thankfully, in the US, they’re slowly being struck down but the heartache lingers.

Another reason this year feels different is because of some big changes in my personal life.

So, as I thought about how I wanted to celebrate Pride this month, I kept coming back to the thought of community. As lovely as fic recs are, and as much fun as I have writing them, it’s the community of creators and the friendships that I have found here that keep me involved in fandom.

As I was thinking about conversations that I’ve had about fandom friendships with @tackytigerfic and @babooshkart, I had the idea to reach out to them and other fandom friends to hear about their experiences and what keeps them in fandom. A beautiful thing happened — I asked one person to participate and they agreed, then recommended I ask another person. The next person also agreed, and had a suggestion of someone else I should ask. And on and on, until I was having lovely, in depth conversations with people I knew peripherally but hadn’t necessarily talked with before. 

I first found fandom in 2013, through a chat room that has since been shut down. I was young, in college, reeling from a break up, and still trying to reconcile my conservative upbringing with these lovely, open, and accepting people that I’d found online who dared to be different and still so good in a way that I had never had the privilege of experiencing before. They answered my questions with patience, no matter how dumb or offensive they might’ve been, and were kind enough to ask gentle questions of their own.

Like so many others, I eventually realized I wasn’t as straight as my conservative, Christian upbringing would’ve liked me to believe.

It’s been ten years, and I still have friends that I regularly keep in contact with from that chat room. We’ve exchanged letters and cards, flown and driven across the country to hug each other, to go to each other’s weddings and stayed at each other’s houses. We don’t talk every single day like we used to, but I know that if I called them, they would answer and listen with every bit of love and patience that they gave me at the beginning. That means the world to me.

In those ten years, my circle of online friends has grown immensely. I love getting “Happy New Year!” messages all day from various time zones. I love that no matter what weird time of night I’m up, I’m never alone if I don’t want to be. I know the names of pets I will probably never meet and see dishes from kitchens around the world. All of these things bring joy into my life. 

My partner and I moved across the country last year. It’s only a couple states difference on a map, but it’s 17 hours from my friends and family, and from the little in person Queer friend group that I had found. It’s a different culture, one that I’m still adapting to. We moved in early summer last year; my friends visited in June and we went to Pride events together, and I didn’t feel so alone. But now, a year later, it feels like forever since I’ve hugged them. It feels lonely sometimes, although I’m getting my feet under me again and finding different events to go to and organizations to join.

With all this real life change, fandom has been a lovely, stable rock in my life. No matter how godawful my day has been in my new job, I have online friends who cheer me up. I have people who message me and check on me, people who are excited to have those in depth, philosophical Queer conversations via discord messaging, even though we’re timezones apart and often messaging each other days later. These friendships have nourished my soul, sustained me, and I’m forever grateful for the way fandom has held its arms open for me.

So this Pride, instead of a themed rec list, I’m listening to and sharing other Queer creators about what fandom means to them. Stay tuned this week to see who else is sharing about what fandom means to them. We’re here, we’re Queer, and we’re supporting each other.

Much, much love,

The Drarry Librarian

[abeautylives]

Trip Around the Sun - Day Two

a/n: Thank you for your patience as I took some time to celebrate our sweet Josh. Like a lot of you here, I'm a queer person that felt an immense sense of pride in his bravery and an insane amount of joy knowing how loved he is. To that point, if it needs stating, this is a work of fiction. To another point, in light of recent events, I wanted to say that I very much love and support my fellow members of the LGBTQ+ community, keep fighting the good fight babes 👁️🌈👁️

Read Part One

pairing: Joshxfemale!reader

word count: 9.8k this part

summary: A persistent and charismatic stranger disrupts the serenity of your tropical escape. What's the harm in a vacation fling?

warnings: 18+ minors stay far away, more summer Josh, language, drinking, mentions of sexual situations, explicit sexual content, public sexual activity, penetrative sex, kinda fluffy tbh

☀️☀️☀️

“My name’s Josh.”

Of course it is. When you’d first seen him from across the pool, you could’ve pegged him as a Josh or a Justin, even a Jake. It just makes so much sense.

What made little to no sense was the way your settling heart rate had kicked back up when he said it, the sound of his name shaped by those lips and pushed past those teeth with an almost embarrassed giggle.

Josh.

He’d asked for yours in return and when you gave it, he’d rolled it around on his tongue and then repeated it. It’s been a pleasure to meet you.

You’ve been thinking about that all morning. Not about the way he’d offered to walk you back to your room, or the way you had invited him in, ready to return the favor of the orgasm he’d bestowed you. Not about the way he had looked at you, in awe of your apparent generosity, or the way he’d gracefully declined. You don’t owe me anything, beautiful.

You definitely haven’t been thinking about that. Not while you sipped your coffee or the Bloody Mary that followed. Not while you picked at your breakfast or walked back to your room after abandoning it.

You’re absolutely not thinking about him now as you make the journey back to the blazing heat of the pool deck. You’re not scanning the area for his cap or his curls or his face. You’re not headed toward the same lounge chair you’d used yesterday in hopes that if he’s looking… he’ll find you.

It’s shameful, the way you’re thinking about nothing but him.

As your gaze moves over the pool, it lands on a couple of boys, probably nine or ten years old, maybe brothers. They’re taking turns attempting handstands in the water, timing each other and laughing wildly when the other loses his balance, in the exact spot where you’d let a stranger finger fuck you before he’d even introduced himself.

I need a drink.

Instead of settling into your chair, you dump your bag and towel onto it and head directly to the bar. Around the back side of the small building, constructed to resemble a thatched hut (grass roof and all), there’s a walk-up bar and that’s where you order a margarita and a shot of tequila. The bartender serves up gold instead of silver, but you knock it back anyway and resist the urge to gag as it lights your throat on fire.

The plastic holding your other beverage is already sweating in the heat by the time you’ve made it halfway around the pool and back to your chair, which is exactly when you spot him. Wanting to observe him before he sees you, as he’d done to you the afternoon before, you slow your stride and take a long sip through your straw.

He must have been looking for you, but he found your belongings strewn across your chair and it appears that he’d made himself comfortable in the one beside yours once again. His trunks are the same he was wearing yesterday, a light green and white patterned print that leave the entire length of each thigh exposed, and his torso is blessedly shirt-free. Because you can, you objectify him for just a moment, your eyes lingering just below his navel before they move up the line of his body and land on his chest.

Now I’m the creep.

You make yourself giggle and keep it moving. You’ve almost reached him and you’re surprised, or disappointed that he hasn’t noticed you. Unfortunately, the closer you get, the better you can see the fucking ridiculous sunglasses he’s wearing. With no cap to shade his eyes today, his head wrapped in a white bandana and hair tied back again, you understand the need for sunglasses, but these are horrendous.

“Yee haw, bro.”

His head moves with you as you come around him and step between the chairs, his face upturned and smile already stretching wide and shining bright. He watches closely as you move your bag and towel, bent at the hip, ass pointed in his direction and covered today only by a scrap of electric blue that’s nearly tucked between your cheeks. When you chance a peek at him over your shoulder, you wish you could see his eyes, but alas.

There’s a hint of laughter in his voice, but only because there had been a hint in yours. “What?”

Lowering onto your chair, you lean into it and recline as if you’d known all along that he’d be here waiting for you. “What’s with the shades?”

It’s cute, the genuine confusion as his smile goes lopsided. “It’s bright out here?”

“They’re hideous.”

“Wait, really? You don’t like them?” The corners of his mouth drop.

You can’t stifle the laughter any longer. It’s shaking your shoulders as you tell him you really don’t. When he sits forward in his chair, it looks like he’s about to stand and you’re suddenly worried you’ve actually offended him.

He pulls the glasses off of his face and examines them, turning them over as if he’s seeing them for the first time. As they move in his hands you can see that they’re not actually Pit Vipers, they might be Oakleys but they’re a huge purple and green color shifting shield of plastic. His eyebrows are knit together as if he’s deep in thought.

“I’ll throw them in the ocean, right now.” He stands and moves like he’s going to walk away from you, head to the beach and chuck them in.

Your hand shoots out and lands on one of his wrists, fingers wrapped around it. “No! Don’t go…” His eyes, now revealed to you, drop to where you’re touching him, a rainbow spread over his skin at the tips of your fingers. “I’m just fucking with you.” When he lifts them to your face, they’re narrowed in sly gratification, a smirk forming below his mustache.

He accepts that, along with the knowledge that you really seem to want him to stay, mourning the loss of your hand on his when he plants himself back in his lounger. The glasses slip back over his ears, settled on the bridge of his nose.

“I like them. I don’t tend to care if anyone else does.”

That sounds authentic, based on the limited observations you’ve made you’re sure he doesn’t give a shit about what others may think. The short shorts, the bandana, the sandals he was wearing last night and even the tiny hoops gracing each earlobe. It’s just who he is.

“That’s good. I wish I didn’t care what people thought about me.” Flippant, you don’t really mean anything by the comment and bring your drink up to your lips.

“Do you care what I think?”

His own words tumble over each other in your mind. Lovely. Captivating. Beautiful. Stunning. Trouble. “Mm, I know what you think.”

“Huh. I suppose I haven’t been subtle. What do you think about me?”

There it is again, a warmth crawling across your cheeks that has nothing to do with the climate. Your gut tells you to lie, to tell him that you don’t, you haven’t thought of him at all.

“I thought you didn’t tend to care about the opinions of others, hm?”

No response, no way to read his eyes past the ostentatious glare of his sunglasses but he’s definitely staring at you. Your heart tells you to give him the truth.

“I’m not sure yet what I think about you. But I have been thinking.”

There’s a comfortable bit of silence while he turns that over in his mind and you apply sunscreen, SPF 30 this time. He offers with only a tiny bit of sarcasm to get your back, but today you accept hastily, greedy for the feeling of his hands on you.

The tube transfers from your hold to his as you turn away in your chair, hair pulled forward over your shoulder and presenting the expanse of tanned skin to him. He squeezes it into his palm and warms it between his own hands before touching you, and you’re sure it’s intentional. Every time his skin has met yours has seemed purposeful, almost calculated, like he’s mapped out his pilgrimage over your body in advance.

This act is not a chore, or even a favor, it’s purely selfish of him as he leans close and places his hands over your shoulder blades. The lotion spreads as he watches his fingers outstretch, pale in comparison to your sun-darkened shoulders. They travel upward first, firmly pressed against you and he can feel the quiet hum that vibrates through you before it sounds from your throat.

“You better stop that.” His voice crawls its way into your ear, pitched low and bearing that edge again.

“Hmm, what?” Your head drops forward and his hands are still moving, fingertips dragging down the sides of your ribcage and barely skimming the curve of each breast.

“Making those little noises. Unless you want all of these people to see what it does to me.” Another hum, tightening into a whine as those hands smooth over the small of your waist and come back in to meet on either side of your spine. The memory of what you barely got to see and never got to touch last night only serves to turn his warning into temptation. You wouldn’t mind seeing it again, even here in the light of day.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you? Pervert.” His fingers push underneath the strings at your hips and slide under the fabric as his palms work the sunscreen into your lower back, reminiscent of how he’s teased you with those fingers in the pool. “Are those the thoughts you’ve been thinking about me this morning, beautiful?”

“Well they are now.”

His hands leave you abruptly and you turn to watch him swipe what little is left of the sunscreen over his cheeks, pushing under the rim of his glasses then running his fingertips over the bridge of his nose.

“Um, do you need more? On your back, or, whatever.” That was embarrassing, the curve of his lips making it even more so as he appears to know exactly what you’re asking.

Can I touch you?

“I’m good, applied in my room.” Cheeky fucker.

“Even your back, though?” Okay, desperate.

“It’s taken care of. For now.” He doesn’t elaborate and you can’t bring yourself to ask exactly who had assisted him. It’s none of your business. “So, what are your plans for the day?”

The tube of sunscreen is tossed back into your bag and he returns to his reclined position in his chair, you follow suit and take another sip of your now watered down margarita. You lift a hand and gesture to the scenery in front of you, arm sweeping wide.

“You’re lookin’ at it, handsome.”

An accidental clue, some insight into exactly what you’ve been thinking about him. He revels in it silently, making no comment or quip but adding it to his mental spreadsheet.

“You know there’s a lot more to do here besides lay by the pool, right?”

You do know that, in a vague sense but you haven’t bothered to look into it. Most of your time before you met him yesterday has been spent alone, as you’d intended, and whatever activities this place has to offer just seem… sad to do by yourself.

“Sure, but I can get drunk by the pool.”

“There’s an entire ocean of clear turquoise water right there. We could go swimming, or there’s jet skis, or I’m pretty sure we can sign up for this boating excursion. Spend a few hours on the water, drinks included.”

We?

“What makes you think I wanna spend my vacation time with you?”

A brief pause, he only thinks it over for a second or two, as if he knew you would ask. “You haven’t sent me away yet, you were checking me out from over there ten minutes ago,” he points to where you’d been staring from, when you thought he hadn’t noticed you, “and you were practically begging to suck my dick last night. I think you like me.”

“I was not begging to- you’re annoying, you know that?”

It’s not lost on him that you haven’t tried to deny anything else he’d said, even though you’re blushing. It’s not lost on you that he once again seems to know more than he should, that when you’d invited him into your room all you were imagining was the feeling of him on your lips, the taste of him on your tongue.

He’s grinning when you slide your eyes over to gauge his reaction. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. Hey, I’m gonna go get a drink while you decide what we’re doing today.” Up and out of his chair before you can argue that, you watch him head in the same direction you’d gone around the pool toward the walk-up side of the bar.

“Josh!” He turns back, the sound of his name shaped by your lips and pushed past your teeth stopping him in his tracks. “Get me another margarita?” You lift your nearly empty cup and shake what’s left of the ice around in the bottom. He offers only a two-finger salute and a wide smile as he turns away from you again.

Your eyes slip closed while you wait, giving no real thought to anything you’d want to do aside from exactly this. When a bead of sweat loses its battle with gravity and slips down your chest, between your breasts and past the string just below them, you sit up to dab your skin with your towel.

A cold drink would be nice, what the fuck is taking him so long?

He’s not at the swim-up bar, his white bandana nowhere to be seen among the groups of people gathered there. You look down the pool deck to your left, in case he’s actually given up on you and decided to leave you alone, disheartened at the idea and irritated with yourself for feeling that way. When he does finally come around the deck, two drinks in hand, he finds you scrolling on your phone with an unmistakable frown pulling the corners of your lips down.

“Miss me?”

“Shit!” Your phone slips from your fingers and bounces off your hip, landing face up on the concrete. “Do you get off on scaring the shit out of me?!”

Laughing, he hands over your margarita and reaches down to scoop up your phone when you snatch the cup from him. “If I say yes, will you think less of me?” He offers your phone next, which you slip into your bag after a quick examination and finding it miraculously undamaged. You ignore that question in lieu of asking another of your own.

“Where were you?”

“Ha! You did miss me. That’s cute.” Instead of taking his place in his chair, he sits at the foot of yours. To his delight, you spread your legs and plant your feet on the ground on either side of the chair to make room for him.

“I missed the tequila.”

“Uh huh,” hidden behind the shield of his glasses, his eyes dart down between your legs to where your bikini is barely concealing you from view, “Well drink up, we’re going sailing.”

You sputter around the mouthful of alcohol you’d just nearly inhaled.

“We leave in an hour.”

Forty-five minutes and another shot of tequila (silver this time, at Josh’s request) later, you’re strapping a glaringly orange life vest over your chest.

“I know how to swim, this is so unnecessary.” You click the final buckle into place and pull the straps tight.

“It’s just a precaution, I think we’re allowed to take them off once we’re anchored.” You’re grumbling as you struggle to get comfortable beneath the foam and nylon. “Besides, it’s a really good look for you, provocative even.”

“Shut up.”

You’re summoned to make your way down a long wooden dock that juts out into the ocean, Josh falling in step beside you, knuckles bumping yours as your arms swing between you. Reaching the end, a crew member waits on board with a hand extended that Josh grabs ahold of and hauls himself over the side and onto the deck. Creating his next excuse to touch you, he turns back and extends his arm, hand held out and eyes imploring you to reach out and take it. You can’t see the way they’re appealing to you, the purple green shift hiding them, but his bottom lip is tucked between his teeth as he grins and his eyebrows are raised expectantly.

“It’s giving… Aladdin. Very ‘magic carpet ride’ right now.”

“Okay, well?” You cock an eyebrow up over the rim of your own glasses and his smile stretches. “Do you trust me?”

“Booooo, that was terrible!” You’re both giggling as you take his hand and let him pull you up and over the railing, where you promptly lose your footing and tumble into his chest. His arms wrap themselves around you, keeping you upright as you mentally curse the life vests preventing your bodies from meeting.

His face tucks into the hair over your ear, tendrils of it floating around your head in the breeze coming off the water. “This is nice, but we need to go take a seat so we can shove off.”

You turn your face to his and your noses almost touch. Before you can verbalize a thought, he drops his lips to your cheek and presses a soft kiss there. Your fingertips are pulled to the spot as if they’re magnetized, your lips fallen open in a surprised ‘o’. A hand slides over your lower back beneath the vest and he guides you to a place on the deck, in front of the mast where he sits with his back against it. Anticipating your question, he tugs you down to sit between his legs and pulls your back into his chest.

Aggravated again that you can’t feel him, you finally find the words.

“I hate these fucking vests.”

From behind you, his chuckle rolls over your shoulder. “Why’s that?”

“I want- I just wish I could, I dunno…”

“You wanna feel me all pressed against you, hm?” With your feet pulled up and knees bent just in front of your chest, he reaches forward and runs the tip of one finger over the outside of your thigh, knee to hip. The boat starts to move just as he slips that finger over your hip bone and lower, dipping it under the hem of your bottoms and running it through the soft hair that he seems so infatuated with. “If you still like me when we get back, I’ll let you feel me all you want. Promise.”

Despite the needy sound that creeps from your mouth he doesn’t touch you where you want him to, an infuriating tease. His hand slides out of your swimsuit and his arms circle around your waist just below the vest.

You’re not sure how far from shore you’ve traveled, the wind whipping your hair around your face and Josh’s as the boat glides through the water, clear as crystal when you left but now an intense, ominous blue as its depths become unfathomable. He’d held you close for the entirety of the voyage, only pulling a hand away to pick your hair out of his mouth or run it down your arm. Once, he’d brought it up to your chin and turned your face to his and you thought, or hoped, he might kiss you but when he found your lips turned up in an enthusiastic grin he’d just smiled brightly and placed that hand back at your waist.

It’s not until the boat slows to an eventual stop, and someone comes from below deck to ask for your drink orders and advise that you could, in fact, remove the vests if you wished, that you realize that no one else had ever boarded.

You unbuckle the vest as soon as you’re able to and toss it to the other side of the mast behind Josh, turning to watch him do the same.

“Josh?”

His vest lands next to yours and he lifts his hands to make sure his bandana is still secure. There’s something about the way his biceps flex that makes you wish you’d been able to see them more clearly last night at the pool. “Hm?”

“Why are there no other passengers?”

He glances to either side, confirming the absence of anyone aside from the crew. “Huh, that’s weird.”

“Did you do this?” You’ve shifted from his lap, kneeling in front of him now, palms rested on your thighs. Before he can answer, you lift a hand and slip his sunglasses away from his face, met with honey and amber sparkling with mischief.

“Now why would you thi-“

“Tell me the truth,” you stand, looming over him with the hand holding his glasses reared back behind your head, “Or these are swimming with the fishies.”

The way your body is twisted, poised to throw them overboard, creates an interesting shape at the curve of your waist that only makes him wonder what you would look like twisted up in the sheets of his bed, or yours. Probably yours.

This is gonna be a long day.

“Yes, I did it.” The glasses are dropped into his hands, caught before they hit the deck between his legs where he places them delicately. They are his favorite, after all.

“Why? How?”

He rises to his feet, more or less eye to eye with you, and finally pulls you close, bodies meeting at the hips. Not prepared to concern you with the how, he answers the why.

“I apologize in advance for what I’m about to say.” You let your own hands rest over the dips at his hips, the line of muscle there leading into his trunks. Focused on the look in his eyes, perhaps slightly nervous but still swimming with a hint of devilish intention, you tilt your head and wait for him to continue. “I thought it would be sort of… romantic.”

The cackle of laughter that you let out is unattractive and riotous but his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles and soaks it in. When you get yourself under control, he pushes it further and slides his hands up your back, pulling your chest to his and letting his next words ghost over your lips.

“Humor me, beautiful. I don’t know about you, but I find a little romance to be a huge turn-on.”

You can feel the truth of that, growing and pushed against you. Presented with an opportunity to take what you definitely haven’t been thinking about, you slide your palms up from his hips and over his stomach. He tenses, muscles bunching under your touch as your hands move slowly over his skin. It’s soft under your fingertips, smoother than the voice he’s been using to break you down and coerce you into playing this game, aside from the goosebumps rising to the surface as you continue up and over his chest.

His eyes had broken from yours, prompting you both to watch your hands travel up his torso and land just under his collarbones, one of his coming between you with a finger hooked under your chin. As your face lifts to his again, he slides your sunglasses away from your eyes and tosses them over his shoulder.

The arm wrapped firmly around your back keeps you close when you try to push away. Unable to move, you slap a hand to his chest.

“Josh those were expensive!”

“I’ll buy you a new pair.”

His lips are on yours before you can argue it, working to silence you and wipe any concern for the glasses from your brain.

Last night, he’d only kissed you once, slamming his mouth to yours to muffle your cries and get just a taste of the champagne on your tongue as you came undone around his fingers. No soft pecks to your trembling lips as you floated back to earth, no shy kiss goodnight as he’d left you at your room.

But he’s kissing you now and it’s everything you could have, but definitely haven’t, imagined. His lips are pillowy soft and slotted together with yours as if they were always meant to be there. You feel the fingers splayed over your spine press into your skin there just as his other hand comes back up to cup your jaw, tilting your chin just a little more so that when the tip of his tongue slips out and over your bottom lip, you’re perfectly positioned to open them and accept it.

This time when they slide against each other, your tongues taste vaguely of tequila and lime, a flavor that he seems to approve of as he groans into your mouth and pulls you impossibly closer. The hand on your back slides downward, over the curve of your ass where he grips a handful and jerks your hips into his, his arousal evident against your thigh.

“Sir, your drinks- oh! Sorry!”

You practically jump away from each other, you stumbling backwards and Josh turning his back to the affronted woman holding a margarita in one hand and a tequila soda in the other. You’re not able to stop the laughter from bubbling over, a hand clasped over your mouth as you watch him adjust his dick in his shorts. Impressively, there’s really no hiding it, so you thank her with tears in your eyes and take the cups from her hands, giving her reprieve from Josh’s awkward situation.

Moving carefully over the unsteady surface of the deck, you sidle up to him and hold out his drink.

“Romantic, isn’t it?”

“Painfully so, damn thing won’t go away.”

Your eyes drop to the obvious tent in his shorts as he continues to try concealing it.

“Maybe stop touching it?” He does, reaching over for his drink and chugging about half of it with his hard-on proudly displayed to the open ocean. A dribble of the clear seltzer spills over and drips from the corner of his mouth before he pulls the cup away, your hand moves in to catch it with the pad of your thumb. Rather than flick it from your fingers or wipe it away, you push it back up to his still open lips. They close over your fingertip and his tongue swirls against it like he can’t help himself but to taste you again.

He lets it slide from his mouth as your hand drops. “You’re gonna have to stop touching me if I have to wait until we’re back on dry land to fuck you.”

It is an unfortunate turn of events, your own arousal is pooled between your legs and there’s nothing you can do about it, even as his words shoot straight to your core.

“Who says I’m gonna let you fuck me?” You’ve dropped your volume, a quiet provocation.

“Mm, I’m not a mind reader but I am intuitive. Getting me back inside you is all you’ve been thinking about since I pulled my fingers out of your perfect little pussy last night.”

Your jaw drops open, closed, open again as no words come to mind in response.

“Exactly. Why don’t you sit back down and drink your margarita, enjoy the view.”

You did just that, heading toward the front of the boat, which Josh advised is called the bow as he took a seat beside you. In your first attempt at an actual personal question, because really anything personal you might learn is not your business and ultimately doesn’t matter, you asked if he had a lot of experience on sailboats.

“Not particularly, but this isn’t my first time.” Vague, but again, does it really matter?

His thoughts must be similar to yours, as he avoids asking you anything that would leave you as more than you are - two complete strangers destined only to know each other right now, whatever that might entail. He asks about your time at the resort so far, if you’ve ever been here before, if you drink anything other than tequila.

“Vodka, on occasion, but I prefer tequila.”

“A woman after my own heart.”

Despite his previous warning, he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you in some way, familiarizing himself with you the only way he feels allowed to. A palm placed to your shoulder when he thinks he’s said something clever. His fingertips drawing lazy circles up and down your legs when you lay back and stretch yourself out over the deck, ankles crossed and feet placed in his lap. Eventually those fingertips find yours, a cautious touch as he toys with the idea before interlacing them and pressing your palms together.

Time spent with him moves in direct opposition to the hours and days you’ve spent alone here. A few more drinks, and even a lunch that had appeared mysteriously from below deck, are gone well before you’re ready for the afternoon to be over. You’re told that you’ll be heading back in ten minutes and you’ll have to wear the vests while you’re underway.

“C’mere…” He doesn’t have to say much else to draw you in, offering a hand to help you stand and using it to spin you around to face the water. He pulls you in, his arms wrapped around your waist again and his chin dropped to your shoulder. Into your ear, he explains, “Just wanted to feel you all pressed against me before we have to don your favorite accessories.”

You groan at the thought of strapping yourself into the life vest, at the thought of three inches of foam separating your bodies as he holds you like this. Turning in his arms, you let the length of your body melt into his, your own arms making their way over his shoulders.

“Do you think they’ll ban me from the resort if I refuse to wear it?” His eyes are alight again with laughter, amused by your question.

“If you don’t wear it, they may tie you up and keep you in the cabin. Actually, that might not be a bad idea, I wonder if they’ll let me do it.”

The musical sound of your giggling is like an invisible force, pulling him in to taste it. It’s gentle, his lips touching yours just long enough for you to reciprocate. He sighs as they separate, an almost remorseful sound that you don’t have time to examine before you’re instructed to put on the life vests.

Leaving this place is probably going to be harder than he thought.

🌙🌙🌙

Fuuuuuck this feels so good.

The water is just a touch too hot as it falls over your shoulders and runs down your body, but it’s working to help release the tension of hours spent with Josh, unable to take what you actually want from him. The romance was a nice touch, but not the kind that can provide any sort of relief to the ache between your thighs.

As soon as the door to your room had clicked into place, you’d considered taking care of it yourself. The instant you’d stepped under the spray of the shower, you’d tucked your fingers between your legs and found yourself still slick, the result of how he had kissed you against the doorframe, trailing his lips over your jaw and down the side of your neck and whispering promises to find you later.

You’d even slipped one inside, immediately realizing it wasn’t good enough, not what you need. One swirl over your clit had almost brought you to your knees, however.

I need to get laid. I need him.

Whatever charismatic kind of wizardry he’s been using on you has been effective, clouding your thoughts and lowering your inhibitions until he’s taking up all the space in your brain.

The steam is carrying the scent of your shampoo as you work it into your scalp, washing away the last few days of chlorine and salty air. It feels heavenly, but your mind is working through a scenario where Josh’s hands are tangled in your hair and that same scent is floating up to him as he hovers over you, he’ll think of you for the rest of his life, every time he encounters it.

The throbbing ache is getting worse.

As the lather from your hair washes down the drain, you force yourself to think of something a little more practical. He had promised to find you but offered no suggestion as to where you should meet, or when. Your stomach sounds on cue, a reminder that you have to do something about dinner whether those plans include him or not. With no way to reach him, you have to trust that fate, or something less whimsical, will bring him back to you.

Ew, get it together.

You clean the rest of your body quickly, before you can talk yourself out of even going back downstairs. Taking only enough time to dry your hair about halfway and swipe some mascara over your lashes, you tie on the black swimsuit just in case and throw on an outfit you’d bought during your last minute Amazon spree. Made of some flowy type of synthetic resembling linen, the waistband of the shorts sits high, well over your navel and the matching top is lined with buttons that you disregard, rolling up the sleeves and letting it drape open over your frame. The soft sage green is particularly appealing against the tan gracing your thighs and why would I care if I look appealing?

You’re thinking too hard about this, he already wants you and he’s made that much abundantly clear since your first meeting.

Now you just have to find him.

Most of the restaurants downstairs are buffet-style, which is only nice because it gives you the opportunity to move at exactly your own pace and be left in peace until your drink needs a refill. From your table against the window, you’re able to people watch as you eat, the variety of outfits that range from extremely casual to extremely overdressed is entertaining in its own right. There is a nightclub here, you consider the possibility that the overdressed have actual plans after this, unlike yourself.

Your gaze turns outward, through the glass that allows a view of the thatch roofed, terracotta tiled walkways lined by lit pools of water that are really just oversized fountains. There are plenty of people to observe outside, families and couples making their way to their own dinners as the sun finally dips low enough in the sky for the stars to fight for dominance. Your eyes are following a couple walking hand in hand, she’s smiling up at him as he talks, apparently enraptured by whatever he’s saying. They’ve almost moved out of your sight line when you see him.

He’s standing at the edge of the tile, the toes of his sandals nearly hanging over the rippling pool in front of him. A hand tucked into the front pocket, his shorts are still outrageously short though they look different than the two pairs you’ve seen him in so far, and his white tank top has been replaced with a white t-shirt. The white bandana is rolled loosely and tied around his neck, leaving his curls free to hang over his forehead and rest over his ears.

His other hand comes up and places the filter of a lit cigarette between his lips, the end glowing red and illuminating his eyes just as they lift from the water and land on you.

You watch him exhale, the smoke curling up into the air before it’s carried away on the breeze. He lifts that hand again, points two fingers in your direction, cigarette held between them, and shapes two silent words with those lips.

Found you.

From the small bag slung across your chest you pull an undetermined amount of cash and toss it on the table, unsure if it’s too much or not enough of a tip for the two drinks you’d been served but not finding it in you to care as you knock back the remnants of the glass in front of you. Looking back through the window as you stand, you lock eyes with him again, still watching you, and waiting.

He’s still watching and waiting as you step out into the heavy air, thick with heat even without the sun, and turn the corner that would lead you to him. You would love to say that you had been composed and casual as you moved in his direction but you’ve given up the act of indifference and you don’t try to hide the excitement in your expression.

Steps away from reaching him, you realize that you have no idea what his game plan is, where he intends to take you or how much longer he’s going to make you wait for the inevitable.

“Josh.”

“Well hello, beautiful. Don’t you look lovely with clothes on?” He takes another hit from his cigarette as he looks you over, the realization that he’s only ever seen you in a bathing suit dawning on you. It’s really no wonder that you’ve ended up here, nervously awaiting some insight as to when and where he plans to fuck you, when every moment leading up to now has been fueled by bare skin and wild imagination.

“We match.” It’s the first thing that pops into your head that seems appropriate to say, the color of his shorts is just a hint darker than that of your outfit. He looks down at himself before looking back at you with a raised eyebrow and a grin that says so we do. “I didn’t realize you smoked.”

Again, not your business, but you haven’t seen him do it so far. “I don’t, not much anymore anyway.” He bends to pick up a backpack from the tile that you hadn’t noticed, slinging it over his shoulder and grabbing for one of your hands. “I bummed this one.”

Your fingers wrap themselves around his hand immediately and you fall in beside him as he starts to walk.

“Something to take the edge off?” Still referring to the cigarette as he takes a final hit and tosses it into the sand-filled tray atop a conveniently placed trash can, you wonder if he’s also nervous.

“Yeah… something like that.” He leaves you wondering what that means and keeps moving forward, slipping into a silence that lasts as long as you can stand it.

“Where are we going?”

A soft squeeze to your hand that’s held in his. “To the beach.”

The beach?! “Josh, I thought- I mean, it’s early… Won’t there still be people all over the beach?”

He’s certainly not an idiot, and he does have a plan. “Not where we’re headed.”

“How do you know?”

“Don’t you trust me?” Your head snaps in his direction, he’s looking at you from the corner of his eye, the side of his mouth that you can see is turned up.

“Sure, I do but-“

“But you just can’t wait any longer to spread your pretty legs for me?” A strangled noise passes your lips. “Don’t worry, you only have to wait as long as it takes us to get where we’re going. You better hurry up.”

The sky is dark as you move away from the lit walkways of the resort, passing through the mostly empty pool area and finally hitting the sand. Josh pauses to slide his sandals off so you do the same, plucking them up and carrying them hung from your fingers. You walk along the water as it licks at the shoreline, passing only a few people before the beach is deserted completely the farther you go.

Looking up to the stars again, definitely not thinking about the last time you’d been lost in them, a heavy sigh slips out into the air.

“It’s so pretty here, I never wanna go home.”

His breath forms the words and the question materializes before he can stop it. “When do you leave?”

The answer lodges in your throat. You’re not ready to tell him, you’ve hardly had a chance to experience him and the sun is already setting on your time with him.

“Um… Sunday morning.”

His feet stop moving, the hand connected with yours stops you in your tracks. “So that’s it? I get you for tonight and maybe tomorrow, and that’s it?”

The dejection in his voice is surprising but that doesn’t make it sting any less.

“Yeah, Josh. I- what do you want me to say?”

He shakes his head and the moonlight shines off of his curls as they move. “No, nothing. It’s okay, we’ll just have to make the most of it, yeah? We can stop here by the way, we’re alone.”

The nerves are back, quickly replacing the regret that came with being the cause of the solemn frown on his lips. You watch him move inland, away from the water's edge and into the dark grove of palm trees growing straight out of the sand. Dropping to one knee, his sandals are discarded and the backpack comes around and sinks to the ground as he tugs at the zipper and pulls a huge Mexican blanket from the opening. He’s still unfolding it as you approach.

“What else is hiding in your little bag of tricks?”

“Tequila, obviously.” He pulls it out and passes the bottle up to you as he situates the blanket and brushes sand from the corners before strategically settling into the center. After a deep breath, you pull the cork and take a shot straight from the bottle, sucking a hiss through your teeth after you swallow.

“Something to take the edge off?” He’s smirking at you as you plug the bottle and he repeats your words from earlier.

You toss the tequila into his lap, which he catches deftly and quickly takes a shot of his own, laying it onto the sand after he shoves the cork back in it.

“Yeah…” This is it, now what? “…Something like that.”

Leaned back on his palms, legs stretched out in front of him, he’s looking up at you with his head tilted, just so. When he speaks, his voice is pitched low again but you hear him loud and clear.

“Get the fuck down here.”

Your sandals slip from your fingertips and you bring the strap of your bag over your head, letting it fall to the sand. A step toward the blanket and you move to slide your open shirt off of your shoulders, but he stops you.

“Don’t, please. Let me.” You leave it on and practically pounce on him, your knees landing on either side of his hips, the blanket sure to leave rug burn across your skin there. He captures your lips with a hmph against them as you collide with his chest, his arms circling you and pulling your body snugly into his lap.

This time, when your tongues meet there’s nothing gentle or apprehensive about it, he’s licking into your mouth like he knows you, like he’s kissed you like this hundreds of times, like he knows exactly what you need. His hair is soft wrapped around your fingers as they sink into it, his dick is already growing hard underneath you, you let your hips rock into it and drink down the groan that pours from his lips.

“Fuck, wait, hold on a second,” his hands stop the roll of your hips over his, “Do you wanna take it slow?”

“No, not this time. Please, c’mon Josh…” He lets your hips go, free to move unhindered as he chuckles into a fast kiss that moves from your lips to your jaw.

“Okay pretty girl, let’s do it then.” His kisses move from your jaw to that special spot he’d discovered earlier, outside your room. He’d wanted to pull your clothes off slowly but since you’ve protested… as he sucks the skin at the base of your neck into his mouth, one hand moves up to the knot just beside his lips and the other slides to the one at the middle of your back. In one motion, he presses his teeth to that sensitive little spot, and tugs at the strings holding your bikini top to your body. You can’t help the shameless moan, he can feel it against his lips, deep in your throat as his bite shoots electricity through your nervous system and the breeze off the ocean moves over your now bare breasts.

When he pulls back to look at you, your chest is already heaving, bared to him aside from the unbuttoned shirt fluttering around you. Your tan lines are dramatic, even in the absence of light and a triangle of pale skin surrounds each slightly darker nipple. He yanks the shirt down off your shoulders and traps your elbows at your sides, pushing your tits forward and forcing your hands from his hair.

“Every single thing about you is so fucking sexy, it’s unreal.”

You can’t respond with anything more than a soft whine as he leans in immediately and closes his lips over the same nipple he’d first touched last night. Unable to feel him with your hands, your hips are working overtime trying to create some friction where you’re throbbing so intensely that it hurts, until he releases his hold on your shirt to wrap his fingers around the curves he’s focused on.

As soon as your arms are free, you let your shirt slide from your body completely and reach to tug his own off of him. Your nipple leaves his mouth with a pop as he helps you, arms raised and reaching behind his head to pull the t-shirt up and over, the bandana falling to rest over his bare collarbones. He drops the tee onto the blanket, quickly snatching up the bikini top still between your bodies and the shirt you’ve let fall over his knees.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna slow down?”

“You’re not going fast enough.”

A challenge easily accepted. In an instant you’re looking up at the stars again, through the silhouette of the palm fronds. Josh is hovering over you, almost exactly how you definitely haven’t imagined it and his fingers are already tucked into the waistband of your shorts and tugging them down to your hips. You lift them from the blanket to allow him to slide the material down your legs and away from your body, expecting him to rip the bottoms of your bikini off with them but he doesn’t.

Instead he sits back on his heels for a moment before rising to his feet, leaving you exposed and confused.

“Josh.”

“Shh I know, just give me this one thing.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, unsure of how clearly he can read the exasperated look that must be written over your features, you ask what he could possibly want.

“Take them off. I wanna watch you take them off and I wanna see all of you, wearing nothing but the moonlight.”

Just verbalizing it causes his cock to pulse, but he resists offering it any relief.

Eager to give him what he’s asked for so poetically, and finally get what you’ve been wanting, you lay back again and arch your back away from the blanket, thumbs slid under the strings. You move them down over your hips slowly and push them to mid thigh, then pull the knots loose with your fingertips and let them fall away between your legs. When they land beneath you, you raise both arms over your head and elongate your entire body, knees together and toes pointed.

“Jesus. You look like a fucking goddess.”

It’s all he can manage for a moment as he commits this to memory, all of your skin glowing in a soft blue filter and on display just for him, the moon and the stars.

You watch as his hands flex, forming fists and stretching back out before they move to the waist of his own shorts. He makes quick work of opening the fly and shoving them and his briefs down to his ankles, seemingly moving without thought, simply on muscle memory alone as his fingers wrap around his dick. His body shudders as he pulls one slow stroke over himself before he realizes that you’re staring, eyes wider than he’s seen them before.

“Shit, sorry. I didn’t even think to ask if you had any special requests.” He giggles, a pure and innocent sound that’s completely jarring in the current setting, both of you naked in the open air, his fist still wrapped loosely around his cock that you’d underestimated.

“Josh, I…”

“What, beautiful? You ready for me?”

“Yes.”

“Show me.”

“You have a lot of fucking requests.” You feel like you might die of starvation if you’re not full of him, right now. Your feet pull back over the blanket and you let your legs fall open to him. Before he can ask for anything else, you slide a hand down between them and run two fingers through what’s already dripping out of you. “Fuck, please come here…”

The vision of you, combined with your pleading words brings him to his knees, they land between your feet and he crawls over you, shuffling free of the shorts still around his ankles. The hand that had just been stroking his dick circles your wrist and pulls your slick fingers between your bodies, then wraps them around him.

Hot and heavy against your palm, you squeeze him once, drawing the most delicious, almost pained whimper past his kiss-swollen lips.

Eyes turned down to where you’re finally touching him, he murmurs, “Take what you want, beautiful.”

The head of his cock is pushed against you, your grip on it guiding it to slip through your wetness before it slides past your entrance. And stops.

His hips pull back just a little, he reaches down to nudge your hand away and replace it with his own. “Here, kiss me…” You accept his lips on yours, a gentle reassurance and a few deep breaths pulled in through your noses. His kiss moves to peck over your cheek until his mouth reaches your ear.

“Relax baby, let me in. I’ve got you.”

His whisper works like a sedative, loosening the anxious tension of anticipation from your muscles and when his hips roll into you he slides in another inch.

“That’s good, perfect pussy stretching around me. Doing so good.” His praise coaxes a rush of arousal from you, leaking over him. Another roll, another inch.

“You okay?” Your eyes, squeezed shut since he’d pushed inside, crack open and find concern written all over his face. When your head nods, his shakes. “Tell me, please.”

“Yes, I can take it, I want all of it…”

His hands move, braced on either side of your head and he rears his hips back until he nearly slips from your body, then snaps them into you. He sinks in to the base, flush against you and catches your outcry to God with his lips once again.

He lets you both adjust to the feeling, you to the unimaginable fullness and him to the way your cunt is squeezing him like a vice. His lips separate from yours and he offers a warning.

“I don’t want to hear you screaming anyone’s name but mine.” To make sure you understand, he withdraws and crashes back into you.

“Josh! Fuck Josh, Josh, Josh…”

It tumbles forth, he slides into a rhythm of deep strokes that leave you gasping for breath in between curses and whines of his name as your legs wrap themselves around his hips. Your hands can’t seem to decide where they want to land, roaming over all of the skin they can reach, fingertips digging into the tight muscles of his back before sliding up to his shoulder blades and feeling them move as he supports the rocking of his body over yours. As he has since your first interaction, he seems to know exactly what you’re thinking.

Through a clenched jaw he tells you, “Keep doing that, keep touching me. Memorize me.”

That’s what you’ve been doing without even recognizing it, ingraining the feeling of every ridge and curve of him into your mind, ensuring you’ll never forget this moment, or him. You drag your hands over his shoulders and loop your fingers around the rolled bandana that still hangs from his neck, swinging over your face at the same rhythm that his hips are pumping into you. Using it to bring him closer, you tug him into a kiss and open your mouth to him, an offering of your tongue that he welcomes.

Sinking to his elbows, his body blankets yours and his strokes lose their depth, shallow and sharp and allowing the base of him to put pressure on your clit. As the moan rolls up your throat he releases your lips and lets it float into the air.

“Does that feel nice, my beautiful girl?” A kiss pressed to the sticky skin of your neck, right to that spot.

“So good, so good just like this.”

“Mm, sound so pretty. You feel like a dream, I never wanna wake up.”

Never, never. You’d swear you’re just thinking it but it’s spilling from your lips as you feel the hot ember that’s been glowing inside you all day begin to ignite.

He feels it too, the easy glide of his cock moving inside you disrupted by the tightening of your walls around him.

“I feel you…” His hips grind into you, your clit is throbbing as he rolls against it. “Can you cum like this?”

It’s an honest question. As much as he does seem to know, he doesn’t actually know your body or what it’s capable of. Regardless, the flush of embarrassment warms your chest and creeps up your neck.

“I- fuck, I don’t know.”

“Let’s find out.”

He puts everything he has learned into practice, his face tucked into the crook of your neck where his tongue and teeth play over that spot that makes you whimper, your hands grip his biceps as he brings one of his own to your tit and brushes the pad of his thumb over your nipple before rolling it between his fingers. He lets his body work between your legs, hips moving rapidly but staying tight against the sensitive place that you need him most.

“Ohhh my god…”

His next thrust slams against the back of your thighs, punching a yelp past your lips. “What’d I tell you?”

“Josh! Keep going, pleasepleaseplease!”

He grinds hard against you and forces your mouth open with his. As soon as the tip of his tongue slips over yours, the fire explodes inside you.

He tries to lift himself away, to see you unravel, watch it consume you, but your hold on him is unwavering so he stays and kisses you until your lungs are burning. When your face jerks to the side and you’re able to draw a deep breath, he waits until he feels your muscles relax around his hips and then his cock before he starts to move again.

“A goddess of the moon is what you are,” your face turns up to him as he separates your chests and props himself over you, even in the blue darkness and through the fog in your brain you can see that the honey and amber of his eyes has disappeared. “How could I not be drawn to you, like the tides?”

He’s gone poetic again, and you can’t imagine that you’re the source of his inspiration but his gaze is drinking you in as it moves over your face and then down your body. He leans in and places a chaste kiss to your collarbone before pushing away and sitting back on his heels, your legs falling away from him and feet landing on the blanket.

His hands wrap themselves around your thighs, just above your knees and you reach out to feel his stomach flex as he starts to thrust into you again, deep strokes that allow you to feel every inch of him as he drags over your walls.

“Mmm, does that make you the sun, then? Burning so brightly that you make me glow, even in the dark?”

He chuckles even as his cock pulses inside you. “I like that.” His eyes drop to where he’s sliding in and out of you, that dark patch between your thighs only adding to the appeal of your cunt taking him in over and over again. “Fucking hell, keep talking to me.”

It makes you smile, the way he wants to hear you, but… “I don’t have a way with words like you- oh fuck.”

His teeth are gritted, his rhythm getting sloppy. He’s close. “Say those dirty words, I know you know some.”

You let your hands slip from his stomach and land on your own chest, his eyes drawn to the rainbow of your fingertips sinking into the pale flesh of your tits before one travels down your stomach.

“I want you to cum for me, Josh.” He grunts above you and his hips stutter. Your fingertips reach your pubic hair and he groans as they trail through it. “Cum on me. Right here.” You tap your fingers there.

He pulls out of you and grips his dick, pushing the tip into the soft curls and growling your name as his release spills over them.

He strokes himself only a couple of times, shuddering as the last of it empties onto you and planting his fists into the blanket at your sides, his head dropped so that you can only see the halo of curls at the crown of his head. You can hear him breathing heavily, but he doesn’t lift his head to look at you so you run your fingers over his hair.

“Josh?”

“Hm?”

“Look at me?” Before he does, he brings a hand to your mound and slips his thumb over the mess he’s made there, spreading it through your hair with a final soft groan.

When his eyes meet yours, his lids are heavy and his lips are drawn into a tight line. It’s not the expression you were expecting, and it makes you nervous again.

“Did I do something wrong?”

He moves back over you and takes your face into the palm of his hand, his stare is intense as he searches your eyes for something that you're not sure that he’s finding there. Before he answers, he soothes your nerves with a soft, barely there kiss that brushes over your lips just long enough to make them tingle. His forehead drops to yours, sweat-dampened curls pressed between them.

“No, beautiful. I don’t think you ever could.”

Taglist:

@lightmylove-gvf @spicedandicedtea @weneedsomehealing123 @milkgemini @why-ami-on-here @gretavanbitches @twistedmelodies @wildflowerxx-x @dannythedog @blissfulbellss @averagemisfit03 @dharmasdivine @thetroublegetssoloud71 @lucimoo @toxbexannouncedx @dig0930 @maddie-van-fleet @friska101-cg @welllauragvf @gretasimp @objectsinspvce @writingcold @gretavangroupie @sweetybre @gretasgoose @gvfjess @josh-iamyour-mama

This miniseries will have a third part and a short epilogue, please let me know if you would like to be added to or removed from the Taglist 🫶

[only-by-the-stars]

Hi, I don’t really know how to start this. But after I saw you mention you were quitting MiphLink fanfics I wanted to write something to you. I don’t really use tumblr, but I stumbled open yours from your AO3 works. I wanted to let you know how much your writing means to me. For some context, Breath of the Wild was my first Zelda game I ever tried and once I started the game Mipha quickly became one of my favorite characters. I was mesmerized by the cutscene she has in that one memory, Mipha’s touch. And when it came to Mipha or MiphLink or even the champions, it was such a creative outlet for me, and I loved to think up endless scenarios that I could pour into my own personal hobbies, drawing, writing, etc. And for me having something like that and just the game itself that I was really into has over the years provided me with such a sense of comfort, if I ever need to disassociate from life and its complexities I can always daydream, and that sort of thing became my muse. One thing however; was I couldn’t find people to relate to. With many of my interests, whether that be the Zelda games, or my interest in older music, or whatever it is I was or am fixated on, I always felt like I couldn’t find people who had the same common interests, or even if I could find people, a lot of times they held opposing viewpoints (in the case of Zelda, usually didn’t really like Mipha), which there isn’t anything wrong with that, but just makes it harder to connect you know? So that started to slowly feel more and more isolating. And as I had more and more ideas for characters such as Mipha, I became more and more frustrated (and inevitably let down when tears of the kingdom came out) that none of it would ever happen. There was so much more potential and so many ways to explore the champions stories, and dynamics, but none of that would ever see fruition. That is, until I stumbled open fan fiction. Namely, AO3. And one of the first works I read were some of yours. I never really knew what to expect when it came to fanfics, but I was absolutely blown away by your phenomenal writing! Everything about your stories, (to list a few, MidWinter Masquerade, A Most Promising Arrangement, Tome of the Wild, plus so many more!!) everything about them was so wonderful. So wonderful I don’t think any word would do justice to your talent. The way your descriptions painted vivid imagery I could see clearly in my mind, to the way the dialogue was so perfectly written for each character, the creative, compelling story plots. All of it was so incredible, and such immersive writing pieces, each and every one was such a delight to read and brought me such immense joy. Truly, I felt like I could relate to the fact that you loved Mipha so much, and the way you envisioned and wrote the dynamics between Link and Mipha. I still go back all the time and re-read your works. I literally was rereading my favorite parts of A Most Promising Arrangement just yesterday. So, with all that said, I wanted to ask (and of course you do NOT have to answer this question if you don’t want to/don’t feel comfortable), why you want to stop? Whatever the reason may be, obviously I completely respect your choice (also you don’t need anyone’s opinion on your decision, the only one that matters is yours). But I suppose I wanted to leave this in case someone or something had discouraged you from writing fanfics, because if it’s something that makes you happy, you should pursue it. And if it truly doesn’t anymore, than that’s okay too. It’s important to stay true to yourself. Anyway, regardless of all that, if you really aren’t interested or going to write anymore fan fictions (Mipha and Link or in general), I wanted to sing my praises and just say thank you. Thank you so much Stars. Because your writing gave life to my favorite characters and my hopes for them. And your writing has and still does make me so immensely happy. Also, even without fan fiction, you are such a talented writer and that is totally something you should pursue in itself if you’re really interested in just writing in general. I will always admire your absolutely beautiful works in AO3, and will definitely be re-reading time and time again. I hope one day maybe you’ll reconsider, and if not, I just hope that whatever it is you do you find success and something that brings you joy

[horseimagebarn]

welcome to the first weekly horseimagebarn interaction recap where every week i find the important tags reblogs and comments you lovely people have left for me to read and i respond to them in one fun post i will do this every friday to recap another week of horseimagebarn so get ready

if i were to make any other blog in the manner of the horseimagebarn it would likely be fish as i feel there is more variety in regards to fish and while i love new world monkeys and many of the old world variety there are certain types that really frighten and disconcert me and many pictures of monkeys you see in the modern day are actually apes which i have a distaste for though it is no fault of the apes and i do not blame them at all and still love them as creatures of this beautiful earth to put it simply i dont like their nipples and one time i saw one shit into its own hand and eat it right in front of me and it really gave me a fright however back to the fish subject i have gotten really into fishkeeping as of late and i thoroughly enjoy them and find it a most rewarding hobby to tend to a mini ecosystem in my own home and i love the practice dearly however i am dedicated to the continuation of this account for as long as possible and feel my interest in this blog is a one time thing that i must give myself to fully and if i were to make a fish blog it would be one for my personal fish and also i love you too though i do not know you personally i feel and appreciate your affections

this comment has given me much to think about as i am not he and this fellow as i have googled seems to be a politician and i do not prefer to associate myself with those types of folk especially those who participate in totalitarianism and fall off of their horses i am in fact a little hurt you would compare me to a rotten man such as this the further i look into it and i ask my audience to refrain from comparing me to such in the future

i agree with this commenter immensely i always post images after giving the origins of the image the benefit of the doubt as i want to believe every human treats animals with respect and care and i want to spread the message that animals are beautiful and intelligent and deserving of that respect and care using these images and i want to give these humans a level of trust that they are acting in the best interest of their animals and if it is discovered that they are not i will take proper action whatever that may be i have refrained from posting certain images due to these ideals before and i will continue in the future if it comes to it long story short please treat animals with respect and educate yourself on the best ways to do so and please know that i will never ever post an image in which i believe an animal is being hurt and if it comes to my attention that the animal is for certain being hurt i will remove it

thank you my friend i do indeed write poetry and have won one scholarship for it from my college in the past so i am happy that seems to permeate my life and the way i handle myself in general i have been thinking about submitting some of my writing to a literary magazine in my hometown recently and you have bolstered my confidence greatly i appreciate you

happy birthday my friend i hope you had a wonderful day

i love you dearly it is absolutely incredible to me that this account has gone from less than 100 followers to over 600 in less than a week i never thought that so many people would find joy in a blog i made as a silly side project to make myself and my girlfriend laugh every now and then but i am so happy we have gotten to this point

shoutout james