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#spring cannot come soon enough
miketownsends · 2 years
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“[Baseball] breaks your heart. It is designed to break your heart. The game begins in the spring, when everything else begins again, and it blossoms in the summer, filling the afternoons and evenings, and then as soon as the chill rains come, it stops and leaves you to face the fall alone.”
-Bart Giamatti
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uncertainregard · 2 years
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after three weeks of near continuous snowfall we are now entering a polar vortex 💖
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corndog-patrol · 10 months
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Omg I didn't know you liked Sam and max!!! Yippee!!!!!!! 💚
yessss they're so great!!!! i've been into the games/comics/show since about 2016-ish but I recently got back into it by playing through the telltale games! i'm stupid excited for the s3 remake
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babygirlcowboy · 6 months
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Spent all of chem lecture thinking about omegaverse ghostbat......
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aastraeus · 7 months
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i miss summer - i miss seeing the sun in the sky past midnight, the air a gentle breeze, the birds in the trees outside my bedroom window still singing their songs because the summers in norway have no nights - for a moment the sun will set, dip her feet into the ocean briefly, only to shake her beautiful golden head and rise again, radiant in all her light
i miss summer. in the winter the night is endless
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msfantasy-anime · 1 month
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Sorry, I’m … married!
Monkey. D Luffy x Reader
Summary: An overly zealous marine by the name of Shimoi Zappa is enraptured by your beauty and just will not take no for an answer. Your final rejection comes in the form of a blow to his face which earns you a bounty and DoA wanted poster.
A/n: not my best, but I’m setting up the story to pushing Y/n into the straw hat crew for future adventures.
Part I • Part II • Part III •
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It’s been long since you parted ways with your ‘husband’ and the straw hat pirates on the docks that day.
Despite his incessant pleas, to join the crew. You were adamant on having a your own adventure. You weren’t quite ready to give up your freedom to serve in a wanted pirate crew, the world government chasing you until you are caught.
Piracy was always a dream of Sabo, Luffy and Aces, but yours was just to explore the world.
Despite all your reasonings, the tearful parting left you feeling unsure if you made the right decision. The New World is far more dangerous than the redline ever could be, maybe joining a strong and rambunctious pirate crew would’ve actually led to even greater adventures.
You continued to contemplate, your eyes glazed off into the distance sunset horizons as the merchants ship that granted you passage is offloading supplies onto a marine base island.
The captain of the merchants ship encouraged you to explore the island, but the marines on an isolated training island is begging for trouble. All of the officers are hyped up on self-importance, they’re all itching to prove their self worth by dominate any and all around them regardless if it was warranted enough. You’ve traveled enough to know that there are just as many corrupt marines as there are good marines. But you have truely had your fill for a life time and avoid them where possible.
It’s better to just stay nice and close to the ship and leave as soon as humanly possible.
Unfortunately, your train of thought comes to a crashing holt when you feel the intense sensation of being watched.
Springing from your seat, you turn around quickly, to see the creeping figure of a marine, slinking up behind you.
“Oh dear, oh my, what a sight you are.” The tall creepy marine exclaims, his cheeks blushing. “I knew you’d look pretty considering how gorgeous you look with just your back turned! My name is Shimoi Zappa. May I have your name miss?” The marine swoons. His flirtations make your stomach sink.
“Errrrrrm… it’s Y/n.”
“Y/n?! What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” He swoons yet again, making you wildly uncomfortable.
“Gee, thanks.” You dead pan, looking towards the merchants ship, begging silently for help escaping this weird encounter.
“Please Miss, my heart has never yearned for another like it has for you. Please do me the honour of becoming my wife!” With one knee to the ground, he snatches your hand and places a weirdly wet kiss along your knuckles.
“UGH! No, thanks anyway.” You try to add politely on the end, whipping the back of your hand.
Falling completely onto his hands and knees, he begins to sob hysterically into the ground. “No?! Why?!” He sobs once again, grabbing your hips pushing his teary eyes into your abdomen, making your squirm in discomfort.
“Sorry, you see I’m…” Your mind reels in search of the perfect answer that won’t offend the creep whilst also strongly reaffirming your unavailability. “Im married!”
“This cannot be, this can’t be! Where is this husband of yours.” He asks, looking around, as if a man would pop into immediate view. Your jaw clenches in irritation, why couldn’t he just believe your words?
“Well, he’s off exploring the world-“
“Without you?! What kind of husband abandons his wife like this?! He mustn’t be a good husband if he leaves you alone out in this world full of creeps.”
“Right…”
“Please reconsider leaving that useless husband of yours and marry me instead.” He begs once again, grabbing your hand once again and giving it a pleading squeeze.
“Listen buddie, shut up about my husband. He’s a great man. Someone as vile as you will never understand.” Your usual amicable nature goes flying out the window. The overbearing flirting was one thing, but no one will ever disrespect Luffy to your face and live to tell the tale.
All commonsense goes flying out the window as you hand a devastating heavy hit to his face, knocking him out instantly.
“Hey Luffy! Come and look! There’s a new pirate bounty out.” Brook exclaims excitedly.
Luffy launches himself with bountiful energy, keen to see his new bounty. Only to be faced with the non other than your bounty.
Monkey. Y/n 100,000,000 berries. Dead or Alive.
“Hahaha! She said she didn’t want to join because having a bounty would make it hard to travel- but the dumby went and got a bounty anyway! Hahaha!” Luffy cackles. “Huh? Hey, did you guys notice that Y/n has my last name? That’s weird- I wonder why they did that.” Luffy questions scratching his head.
“100,000,000 million berries! What did Y/n do?!” Nami asks Brook in horror.
“The article says that Y/n was visiting the marine training island on a merchants ship when she punched a marine after talking poorly of her husband Monkey. D Luffy.” Luffy’s cackle continues until it comes to an abrupt halt.
“What island was she on again? Let’s go pick her up on the way to Big Moms.” He announce with a wide toothy smile.
“Great, maybe we can also steal some food while we are at it.” Nami agrees, returning back to the helm.
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lidiasloca · 16 days
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Ok this one of my ideas not sure if I have actually read it before or if it was a fever dream. Az has a girlfriend/ mate that the inner circle hasn’t met before.she works with marja as a high and has maybe other powers I don’t know. I have 2x options in which to take this idea. 1. Azzy gets very hurt on a mission and his brought to you to fix him. Very emotional IC and reader. They save him blah blah. 2. Some of the healers are working on so far out town. Az was cutie and like don’t go. She was like boo you go all the time I going to help people. Love you be back soon. But while they are there they are kidnapped by someone ( you pick). Word gets back to Marja who tells Rhys and Az happens to be there. Az freaks out when he hears our name on the list of miss. Blah blah.
totally cool if you don’t wanna use. It is just an idea.
azriel being worried about you going on a mission
azriel x reader
fulff
a/n: i ain't really not for angst these days, so i only took the beginning of your second idea, hope u dont mind :)
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“You will not go,” Azriel sates, and his voice is so commanding and serious you stop in your tracks. 
“Azriel, we’ve been through this. I’m a healer. This is my job.”
“No, your job is to heal people being safe,” he explains as if you were stupid. You know he means well, but you are growing more irritated by the moment. “Your job is not putting your life in danger.”
“Well, saving lives in the middle of a war comes obviously with my life being in danger.”
Giving him your back, you continue packing all you need for the journey. You hear his footsteps getting closer, then his hand is on your back, gently stroking. “Y/N. Please,” and it sounds enough of a plea for you to turn and face him. 
“Azriel, you constantly put yourself in danger. Almost everyday I have to see you leave to work, with no assurance you will come back.”
His eyes drop to his feet in defeat. “I know, and I know it’s not fair for me to ask you this. But - I simply don’t care.” He watches you again, a spark of confidence and hope settles in his eyes. “I cannot risk loosing you, and the risk of loosing you is higher than yours is to lose me on a mission.” When he catches your frown, he adds, “You must give me this; I know how to defend myself better than you in the battlefield.”
You let out a soft chuckle, the seriousness of before fading a bit as a timid smile blooms on his face.
But your mind is made up. “Azriel,” you sigh. “I must go still.”
His lips close to a thin line, worry back in his face. He takes your hands in his scarred ones. You are to hear his angry pleads again, but to your surprise, he simple answers, “Alright.”
You open your eyes wide in astonishment. “Alright?”
Your mate grins before adding, “Alright.” And that grin means two things. Trouble, or planed trouble. 
“What is your mind up to, Az?” you ask accusingly, as if he was no more than a kid planing mischief. 
His grin grows more teasing. “Nothing, nothing,” he says as he turns to your travel trunk, putting things. His things. “It’s just that I'm going with you.”
“What?”
“What?” he says, totally unfazed by the situation. “You need protection. I want to know you are safe. You are no good with a sword, yet excellent healing people. I’m quite good with a sword. I think it’s a perfect plan.”
“You miss that Rhys has assigned you a mission in the Spring Court. Tomorrow.”
He looks at you, looking at you as if what you’ve said it’s dumb. “I don’t remember that.”
“Yes, you do.”
“Love,” he says, and his voice is serious again. “Please. I beg you, don’t make me suffer like this. Let me accompany you. I will talk to Rhys and he will understand. He knows how terrible it is to know your mate is in danger, no mater how strong or brave she is. And you are, but I am not strong enough to spend every second of the following days not knowing if you are safe.”
You sigh, now you are defeated. “Alright.” He smiles triumphantly, so you are quickly to add sternly, “But no scaring anyone that comes near me, understood?”
“Yes, ma’am,” and he has that teasing smirk on his face again. 
-Characters by Sarah J Maas
HEY! IF YOU LIKED THIS, YOU CAN CHECK OUT MY AZRIEL MASTERLIST HERE <3
and you can also request any fic idea you have through my inbox so i can write it down :)) i much appreciate requests for azriel and other acotar characters
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sweetinsaniiity · 2 months
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My Heart, I Surrender
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► 𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 - intruder!san x virgin!reader ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜/𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 - smut with plot, age gap of 10 years (but both full adults), sociopathic tendencies but San is a !gentleman, suspense, somnophilia, fingering, hair-pulling, , corruption kink, breeding kink, oral sex (FL receiving), creampie, no protection (do NOT do this!), tit sucking, rough sex, size kink, overstimulation, cum tasting ◄ ► 𝚃𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚐𝚎𝚛 𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐 - MDNI, sexual assault, degrading name calling (slut, whore), non-consent sex, reluctance, gaslighting and manipulation to give in ◄ ► 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 - 16.5K (goal was 14K but oh well) ◄ ► 𝚂𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 - The most unforgettable night of your life happens when an intruder breaks in and steals your body, your innocence, and your heart. ◄
► 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎𝚜 - If this is triggering to you, please do not continue. This is a work of fiction not meant to represent the members in real life. I DO NOT CONDONE THIS TYPE OF ENCOUNTER. This is not a go-signal for anyone to do this. This is a fantasy and IT SHOULD STAY THAT WAY. You have been warned. More notes towards the end. Join the taglist here. Title from I Prevail ◄ ► 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 - @ginger-mingi ◄
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The pouring rain has always provided me with a sense of comfort I cannot even begin to explain. I wasn't sure if it was the sound of it hitting the pavement, or even the smell of it as it watered the meadow fields. Oh, the fresh scent of it when it hits my nose when I inhale brings serenity.
So here I stood under a dingy, little waiting shed where I sought shelter from the rain that I claimed to love.
I looked left and right hoping to see a bus coming while I rubbed my arms and my teeth chattered, but nothing. Even the waiting shed did absolutely nothing to shield me from the biting cold.
I sighed, instantly regretting not making it on time here for the other bus. With nothing better to do, I sat back down on the somewhat clean-ish seat that the shed provided and waited it out. If it wasn't for the rain, I would have been busy admiring the lush trees and the beautiful spring flowers that surrounded the area like I always usually did when I waited for the bus.
I perked when I saw headlights to my left through the haze, but I quickly became disappointed when I realized it wasn't my bus, it was just a car passing by.
"Damn," I deflated back onto my seat. dejected at the thought of staying in this shed for longer than I wanted to.
I stared at the oncoming car, suddenly wishing I could drive. I wouldn't be waiting if I knew how. It came faster and faster until I was able to make out its model and its colour - a sleek black.
And then it completely stopped in front of me.
I frowned, confused and then got frightened at what the owner possibly wanted. It could be anything, but the one that struck in my mind was some sick psycho that wanted to do things to me, a lone girl in a deserted area.
I cursed in my mind when I looked around and nobody was around to hear me scream for help just in case. I looked down suddenly, finding my shoes interesting, hoping that the driver would go away soon.
I bit my lip when I heard the distinct sound of a car window rolling down. Oh God, I thought nervously. Was I about to get kidnapped?
"Y/N?"
As if I wasn't nervous enough. My confusion grew not only because I heard my name out of nowhere, but that voice sounded a little too familiar.
I looked up and my heart stopped beating for a second or two. He was the kind of handsome that made me hold my breath and those chestnut eyes that stared already spoke to me before he even said a word.
"M-Mr. Choi!" I blurted out in mild surprise. I stood up and began to approach his car but quickly stumbled when I realized it was still raining. "W-What are you doing here?"
I blushed profusely when he smiled at me, it was heart-melting, especially when his dimples popped out from his cheeks. I mentally cursed myself for being this embarrassing in front of him.
"This is near my workplace," he replied. He slowly raked his eyes from my feet all the way to my face and his smile grew wider. "How long have you been waiting for the bus?" 
"Almost an hour," I replied truthfully.
His smile drops slightly and he clicks his tongue. He presses on something and I hear the click of something unlocking. "Get in," he cocked his head towards the passenger seat.
My face heats up even more if that was possible. "Oh," I squeak out. "I-I couldn't possibly impose on you, I'm fine, really."
"Please, I insist," he pauses to gauge my reaction. "I would feel awful if I just left you here stranded."
I was weighing my options, but the reality was, I was afraid he would hear how hard my heart was beating if I was to go into the same space as him, let alone something as intimate as a car.
He sighed when he saw me doubting. "We live in the same complex anyway, plus that bus won't be coming soon," he insisted.
I pursed my lips together, and it didn't escape his attention. He was right, I was the one being unreasonable. Plus, I knew him. I knew   he had pure intentions - to simply just take me home.
"Okay," I murmured, finally agreeing to his insistence.
I stopped breathing when he broke out into the widest grin. "Good," he beamed. 
I was about to move and get my stuff from the seat when Mr. Choi got out of the car and started to walk towards me through the rain. "You're going to get wet!" I tried to stop him.
"A little rain wouldn't hurt me," he shot me a wink and I almost fainted at the sight.
He passed me and I caught a whiff of his cologne, the smallest hint of it already transporting me into places I don't dare go in. He carried my stuff for me as he opened the umbrella I didn't even notice he had because I was busy looking at him.
"L-Let me carry the umbrella, at least," I offered like a decent human being. I made a move to grab the umbrella, but he quickly moved it away.
I glanced up at him and I was taken aback by the sharp and scathing look he gave me, but it was gone in less than a second. He opened the car door for me and I immediately forget about it. To his warm cologne and his even warmer actions, it was easy to like him.
"Cold?" he asked as he buckled his seatbelt. I nodded, not that I had a choice, I was literally shivering when I got in.
I murmured a small 'thank you' when he upped the heat in his car, and just like that, we drove away from that wretched waiting shed. I held in a satisfied exhale as I sank into the softest and most comfortable seat I've ever sat on.
"You said your workplace was near here?" I began to speak in hopes to fill in the awkward air. "May I ask what you do?"
"I have a startup company along with my friends downtown. You know that 7-Eleven by the corner?" I nodded slowly and he hummed. "It's near that area. I always pass this road to go home."
So that explains the aura he exuded - mature, well-put together. And, by God, the way he always dressed. Today, he wore a business suit that was tailored so well and emphasized his body. It made him look like he had power.
"You?" he continued. "Where have you been?"
"Oh, I just met up with a couple of my friends," I shrugged. "Got a little too carried away and missed my ride."
"No one offered to take you home?"
"They all live on the other side of the city, plus my complex is far. I don't mind riding the bus."
There was a moment of hesitation on his face. "I can drive for you from now on," he offered as he glanced at me side-eyed while he tried to focus on the road.
I watched him side-eyed as well, afraid to turn my head to stare at him head on. My mouth felt dry and I didn't know what to say, and there was a certain gentleness in his voice that made me want to reach out to him.
"N-No, I don't want to be a bother, Mr. Choi."
"San."
"Huh?" I asked, confused.
In an instant, he turned and our eyes finally met. "Just call me San."
"I-I can't possibly do that," I muttered. I felt my heart lodge onto my throat, but I tried to play it cool. "You are my senior."
He put on the most inviting, volatile, and apathetic smirk. It was such the opposite expression to his usual gentleness. "Why?" San raised a mischievous brow. "Your boyfriend is going to get mad?"
I couldn't move, it felt like I would have to muster tremendous effort to do so, and my brain was lagging. I had to think and move well.
"No, I don't have a boyfriend," I finally uttered. His smirk grows bigger, though I chose to ignore it.
"That settles it, then," San chuckled more to himself, the sound of it so low that it brought shivers to my spine.
He noticed it and before I could turn away from him clearly flustered, a grin spread across his face and made him look even more handsome than he already was, if it was possible. I'm pretty sure my face was redder than a tomato right now.
"Are you going to be a dear and think about it, at least?" San looked left and right on the street before driving across the familiar intersection that led to the complex.
At that moment, I felt my body flush warm. I must have made a small sound of agreement because San let it go for now and finally concentrated on driving both of us. I'm not even sure, and I don't want to care right now.
It was silent, the only sound we could hear was the rain hitting the roof of the car and the heater whirring in the air. Outside there is no traffic and the light had finally gone, which might mean that it was almost nighttime. The fragile peace had taken over us, and it gave me moments to think.
Being in the car with the one and only Choi San definitely wasn't in my list of things to do today. He was well-known in the complex we lived at immediately after he moved in a couple of months ago. He wasn't my neighbour, not even close, but even he had caught my unassuming eye.
He was attractive - hot, to be frank. When he walked into the room, it seemed as if conversation stopped to sit in stunned silence, he had all of our attention and he knew it. He knew damn well we all found him attractive, yet he never let it all go into his head. He was the sweetest gentleman who always smiled and helped around without asking for something in return.
I couldn't help the admiration I felt for him, and it wasn't only me who held a high opinion of him, everyone I knew did so that automatically doesn't make my admiration anything special in itself.
Or maybe mine was something more. I quickly brushed the thought away from my mind because I knew that it was impossible. San might not even look or want somebody that was much younger than him. In this case, if I wasn't mistaken, I was a good ten years younger than him.
"You look like you want to say something," San suddenly spoke.
"Do you have a family?" I sputtered out before I could stop myself.
I was waiting for San to laugh or think I'm stupid, or perhaps make a snide remark of how nosy I was getting, but it never came.
"No, I currently don't," he replied, the gentleness he was known for back in his voice.
Which means that he's open to having one in the future.
"I see," I trailed off. I didn't know what else to say, I already got the answer to my question.
I choked on my next breath when I felt San's right hand grab my thigh. Almost robotically, my head slowly swivels to stare at him wide-eyed with unparalleled surprise. He stayed focused on the road, but I saw a ghost of a smirk grace his lips.
"Close your mouth, doll," San whispered, his voice dropping into a husky rasp. "Look away."
It took everything in me to do so and stare straight ahead on the unwinding road. The sudden grab made my heart pound so hard, the way his thumb would slowly caress my thighs left goosebumps in its wake.
"Mr. Choi," I began, trying very hard to keep my voice leveled, but we both knew that it sounded shakier than the sky right now.
He side-eyes me once more, his other hand still maneuvering the steering wheel, and raised a brow. "I told you," he griped. "It's San."
A shaky breath left my mouth when he squeezed my thigh. It was enough for me to feel it, but not enough for it to hurt - not even close. He let go momentarily and drummed his slender fingers on my thighs, instead. I swallowed as I stared at his sinful fingers, the things they could do...
"Say my name."
I snapped out of the indecent thoughts from my head before they could fully form. "Pardon?" I questioned.
He chuckled, this time, those dimples of his popped out again. I could have sworn my heart leapt out of my chest. "I said," San spoke, his voice quiet but firm. "Say my name."
"B-But--"
"Say it."
I gasped when he squeezed my thigh with more pressure. It still didn't hurt, but something else of mine hurt. "Okay, okay," I sighed. "S-San."
His lips stretched into a satisfied grin and he finally let go and kept his hand to himself. "Good girl," he smiled.
The hair on my nape prickled at the way San's voice - deep, thick, and most of all, powerful - but that wasn't even the worst part. He was smiling, and that smile was something he reserved when he was being the sweetest, most precious gentleman everybody knew him to be.
What have I gotten myself into? Was he not who everybody, including me, thought he was? My chest was about to explode, my hands were getting clammy and I was close to hyperventilating as I leaned closer to the door to try and avoid him.
Soon enough, we reached the apartment complex and he had slowly stopped the car in front of my apartment. I don't know how he knew where I lived, but at this point, I was not even going to ask. I might hear something I was not ready to hear.
"T-Thank you," I mumbled and hurriedly grabbed my things so I could get the hell out of his car as fast as humanly possible. There was no way I was staying in it longer - it was suffocating.
I speedwalked immediately away and I was about to be completely out of his sight when he stopped me and called me back. "Y/N, wait."
I cursed under my breath and begrudgingly looked back at him with an expectant gaze. The tremors in my heart upped when I saw that beautiful smile I always found attractive on him.
"I'll see you later, doll," he said with hopeful vigor. Did I want to see him again?
"I highly doubt it," I nervously tucked a stray hair out of my face to avoid looking at him. At the end of the day, he was kind enough to take me home but it ended there. We had nothing in common and there was no way he would look at me like that.
He smirked, the dark look in his eyes made me shrink from where I stood. "You never know."
He definitely doesn't mean that. Right?
I didn't bother to watch his car drive off. I quickly ran into my apartment and straight into the shower in record time to take the grime off of my body and hopefully, relax.
That was wishful thinking on my part. There was absolutely no way I could erase that odd encounter with San from my brain in the next few weeks. 
I stood still in the shower and let all the water flow from my scalp all the way down to my toes. Heat filled my entire body when I stared at the section where San had squeezed my thighs. It was slightly pink from the pressure, something that would face away in a couple of minutes.
The way his personality would switch in a matter of seconds creeped the living hell out of me. He went from being so endearing to something else completely that went over my brain capacity.
I frowned, not fully able to comprehend how San was as a person. This is exactly why you should never take a person at face value - they might end up surprising you in ways you never thought was even possible.
I dried my hair, still in a daze. Usually I would spend some time with skin and body care, but tonight I didn't care enough to even make an effort, so after I was done with my hair, I put on my favourite silk nightgown.
I decided to sit down momentarily on the couch to do some deep thinking, but that ended up being a dud. Within moments, I was asleep.
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I stirred awake in the middle of the night, I was confused, I was the type who slept like a log once I'm out - this means I usually never wake up in between my sleep, if not, at all. I tried to shake the confusion and moved my arm towards the bedside table to grab my phone.
'4:20 A.M.'
I groaned softly, frustrated at the fact that it's dead in the night and I was sentient. I had to work in a few hours and I never did well when my sleep pattern was disturbed. I willed myself to sleep and put the blanket over my head.
I opened my eyes, startled. Blanket?
I tried to make sense of what my mind was slowly realizing. I was in bed when I knew for a fact that I had fallen asleep on the couch hours ago.
My brain alerted me into panic and this time, I was fully awake. Maybe I had walked to my bed half asleep and I just didn't remember it? Impossible. I was a heavy sleeper, I would have definitely remembered if I got up unceremoniously. So the question was, how am I here, and how long have I been here?
I sat up, rubbing my eyes timidly to will the sleepiness away from me. Maybe I have just been stressed out at work and am blacking out sometimes, which was worrying if that really was the case.
I looked at the couch I was in and everything was fine, except for the dark figure sitting down on it. I stared for a few minutes before shaking my head.
"Definitely tired," I mumbled to myself, disoriented, before laying back down and trying to fall back asleep. I wonder what that was...
My heart dropped to my stomach when I realized what the hell I just saw and I opened my eyes once more, this time, the sleepiness was fading away. A dark figure sitting on my couch?
How long has it been here just watching me sleep? I stiffened, the energy in the room felt absolutely different. I stayed still, listening quietly if something would be moved or if I was really imagining things. 
But nothing. Just the thick, sinister silence that enveloped the room. With mild unease slowly creeping up to me, I chose to stay still in fear, hoping that this was only a dream and that thing was a figment of my imagination.
Except that I knew it wasn't. I knew it was a person. I saw that it was a man. He was sitting comfortably on my couch with his arms crossed, watching me sleep.
My worst fears came to life when I heard a shuffle and the distinct sound of somebody getting up from the couch. My heart started beating frantically when I felt the bed dip behind me. I tried not to flinch at the sudden intrusion, I tried not to breathe either.
Who was in my bed? How in the world did they even get in? I was a thousand percent sure I locked the door when I came home too, so how? Luckily, the only other entrance to my apartment - my window - was in my direct view, and my heart dropped when I saw that it was wide open.
'Please, go away, please,' I prayed inside my head, but things never really worked out like that, didn't they?
I felt a large hand touch my leg, its presence leaving a burning feeling upon my skin. It stayed there for what seemed like forever until it gently lifted the blanket up a bit so the hand could slide up my skin.
I tried to remain unmoved as my mind struggled to make sense of what was happening and I almost let out a whimper when I felt the rough hand slowly caress my skin and it wept higher until it stopped at my clothed thigh. His hand was dangerously close to my core and it was terrifying.
I shut my eyes as tightly as possible, the dread of waiting what he was going to do next making me want to pass out in extreme horror. 
He did the unexpected - he lifted his hand away from my thigh and I would have been relieved, but I felt the mattress dip even more and I can tell from the movement that he was trying to climb the bed and stay next to me.
Tears started to pool in my eyes, I was petrified in fear. I heard the man sigh softly as he slowly started to stroke my hair in the warmest and gentlest manner. I stopped breathing when his fingers slowly started to trace my face - my cheeks, lips, nose.
"I know you're awake," I heard him whisper, cutting through the dead silence.
I willed myself to open my eyes and it took a while for them to adjust, but the panic seeps into me nonetheless when I saw him. He was sitting tentatively beside me, and since he was against the light, I still couldn't see his face clearly.
But I can tell he was huge. There was no way I could fight him.
"Did you...move me to the bed?" I asked, my voice shaking as I fought the tears from falling from my eyes.
"Yes," he replied, and the sound of it sent shivers to my body. He had a deeper voice, it was unfortunately pleasant to my ears.
"What do you want from me?" I asked next, afraid of what the answer might be. He began to stroke my hair again. "Please, don't do that..."
He tensed, his hand stopping at my head and I was terrified that he would start grabbing my hair, but surprisingly, he does stop. "A lot of things," he cryptically replied.
I suppress a whimper when I feel him move. I was too terrified to move and the intruder took the opportunity to lean down my ear. 
I exhaled a terrified sigh when I felt his breath hit my ear. I finally let out a whimper when he blew softly in my ear and more goosebumps flared up on my skin. He chuckled softly, the closeness of his proximity emphasizing how menacing it was.
"For example," I could hear the smirk in his voice. "You, for one." 
My eyes go wide, the reality of the situation crashing down on me abruptly, and I realize what his intentions were with me - he was going to assault me. 
Tears started streaming down my face, and without thinking, I  pushed the blanket off me and quickly tried to roll to the edge of the bed, but I didn't make it too far when I felt my feet being grabbed.
I screamed bloody murder when I was dragged roughly back into the middle of the bed, my hands grabbing I could to stop myself, but it was no use.
I was flipped to my back and I cried harder when he grabbed my arms violently and pinned them above my head as he straddled me.
"Please don't hurt me," I cried, my own pitiful voice getting to me. I closed my eyes as tightly as possible as if that would make the man on top of me vanish.
I flinched when I felt fingers stroke my cheek gently. "Shh, breath," he hushes. "I need you to calm down."
I struggled momentarily underneath him. I gasped when he pushed the hand he was using to pin both of mine on the bed with a pressure that was almost painful. "Stay still," he said, his voice taut.
I tried my luck again but all that earned me was a growl from him. "Stay still," he reiterated coldly, the gentleness in his voice gone. "And shut up."
I listened and I stayed still for what seemed like hours, my position vulnerable. I was afraid of what he'd do if I disobeyed.
I gulped when I felt him leaning forward, gasping quietly when I felt his other hand cup my cheek and give it a gentle kiss, his lips lingering for a while before he started whispering the most soothing words I'd hear for a while.
"Just like that, doll, breathe in and out for me," he mumbled tenderly. He started to soothingly stroke my skin - my face, my neck, my arms. "I am not going to hurt you."
"I'm going to scream if you don't get off me," I spoke in an attempt to threaten him, and it came out sounding pathetic.
He hummed like a gentle parent comforting their child. "There's really no need, I said I'm not going to hurt you, so don't be scared."
"Y-You're scaring me," I gulped, my eyes still closed.
How can I not be scared? He was huge and I knew for a fact that even if I died trying, I don't have a chance of overpowering him.
He planted a small kiss on the top of my head and I caught a whiff of his cologne. I froze, that smelled extremely familiar.
"Am I?" I heard him sigh. "I'm sorry."
I can hear and feel the blood rushing to my ears. Now that my sight is blank, all my other senses are stronger and I am now slowly realizing how awfully familiar his voice was sounding. I just couldn't pinpoint who exactly it was.
"Do I...know you?" I slowly asked, my chest heaving up and down to due my breathlessness.
Unfortunately, he noticed it. My breath hitched when his free hand, the one not pinning mine down, lightly brushed my hardened nipples. I cursed mentally for not wearing a bra tonight.
"You're a curious one, aren't you?" he mumbled before he stopped touching my breasts. I breathe a sigh of relief. A couple more seconds and I would have made a sound.
"Maybe you do," he continued. "Maybe you don't."
What a terrifying response. A stranger, an intruder, was in my home and basically holding me captive and I had no idea how far he would go tonight. 
I ignored him and my shaky voice sounded, "What do you intend to do to me?"
Fright constricted my chest when he leaned down and gave the soft skin on my neck little bites, pecks, and licks. "What do you want me to do to you?" his husky voice purrs into my ear.
Heat spreads all over my body at the involuntary pleasure I felt from the little of kisses, the small kissing sounds his lips were making against my skin loud in my ears and I ashamedly clenched my legs together. I felt him smile against my skin when my body betrayed me and I gasped a bit when he sucked on my skin.
"I'm going to make you feel good," he murmured, his free hand touching and squeezing my hips and sides, just stopping below my chest. 
I whined moving my head slightly in a poor attempt to get him off of me. It was extremely humiliating. "Don't," he warned, his voice rigid and gravely.
Tears started to form again in my eyes. It was so pathetic. Had I been stronger enough, I would have been out of here. I gasp when his hand kneads my breast, and he was doing it so tenderly as if he was afraid that I would burst if he wasn't careful enough.
"P-Please," I arched my back unwillingly towards his hand. I felt him groan deeply against my skin, the vibration sent shivers to my spine.
"Shh, I said stop moving," he held me tighter, more tensely. I got a bit frightened, he was so unpredictable that I didn't know how to act.
My brain can't properly wrap around the situation. He's an intruder, which I can only assume as someone who is never up to any good, but he is excruciatingly gentle, and the way he can make my body react to his touch was alarming.
"Ah!" I squealed when he suddenly pinched my nipple. He laughed huskily and he didn't do it again. My skin was on fire, I have never been more terrified in my life than right now.
"You feel so good, I can't wait to make you mine." he growled. "Not that you weren't yet."
It occurred to me that it must be a nightmare, perhaps I should just go with it, or maybe if she refused he would willingly leave. But that would never happen, he was here to take me.
I snapped back into reality when I heard the worst sound I could possibly hear all night - a zipper being undone.
I began thrashing and resisting again. "Wait, wait, please stop," I begged. "I-I'll give you anything you want, I have money---"
I screamed when his hand wrapped around my neck. "You're testing my patience, doll," he hissed, squeezing on the sides of my neck. 
I choked on little air, I was getting lightheaded before he let me go. I took big gulps of chair as I coughed, scared out of my wits. Oh God, I thought dreadfully. He's going to kill me!
"You move one more time," he whispered menacingly. "I am going to  shove my cock in you and fuck you like the little cumslut you are." I whined when he bit my shoulder painfully, I was pretty sure it drew blood. "You understand?"
When I didn't respond, he bit my shoulder harder. "Speak when told to," he growled.
"Yes! Yes! Okay, okay! Please," I cried like a wounded animal, - well, I am now - and he lets my shoulders go.
"Good. If you're a good girl, I won't do anything," he chuckled. He gave me soft kisses on the area he bit. "You poor thing..."
This was much worse than I thought. I hate this, I hate every single moment of this. I had noticed early on that if I did as he said, he would be fine, but the moment I acted up, he would get rougher.
"Anyway," he said sarcastically. "I don't want your money."
"Why not?" I blurted out before I could stop myself.
He laughed amusingly. He had an infuriatingly attractive laugh. If only it wasn't too dark, I could have seen his face too. "Because money can't get me what I want right now." 
I frowned. "I'm going to call the police on you," I stated, my voice shaking, hoping that he'd get intimidated enough.
"Cute," he chuckled lowly. 
"Please, don't do this," I begged loudly. 
"Why not?" he clicked his tongue. "I promise that I wouldn't do anything you don't want."
"I don't want you here," I sniffled.
"Don't say that," he replied tensely, his grip on my hands tightening as well.
There was nothing more I wished for right now than somebody to help me. My mind drifted to Mr. Choi. He would have helped me if I asked. I regretted not getting his number like everyone did.
Even with the odd encounter in the car with him, I knew him to be of moral standards and he would help. He was the only one I knew big and strong enough to take this stranger down.
He finally let my hands go and I tensed as I felt him moving in on top of me. I whimpered when his hands spread my legs so he could lay down on me in between them. I blushed both in anger and embarrassment. I had no underwear tonight and I can feel his erection straining through his pants.
His mouth found mine and my eyes flew open immediately. He gave me an open mouthed kiss before pulling away to grasp the back of my neck.
"Look at me," he demanded roughly. I shook my head aggressively and in rebellion and turned my head to the side in spite. He can honestly kiss my ass---
"Oh," I rasped when his hand started to massage and knead my inner thighs. I winced when his mouth started to attack my neck again. This time he roughly bit and sucked, his tongue swirled all over the sensitive parts of my skin as his hands slowly went higher and higher at a dangerous pace.
I was overwhelmed with the odd mixture of pain, fear, pleasure, and hopelessness. The way his hot breath hit my ears was so distracting too.
"Doll, look at me," he whispered against my ear in a tortured voice. "I want to see your beautiful face."
"Please, stop! I really don't want to," I gritted my teeth.
He chuckled. "We'll see."
He lifts my nightgown up to my hips and before I knew it, his nimble fingers grazed my pussy. I was petrified, heat ignited my whole being. I hear his shaky breaths against my ear and I fight off the urge to even breathe, myself.
"Stop it, please, stop," I begged through my broken cries.
He ignored my pleas as he played with little tufts of my hair down there. I didn't shave, yes, but I wasn't expecting this either. He traces my pussy lips with a finger, sliding up and down, and I couldn't stop the moan from my lips when he goes in between.
"That feel good?" he whispered, his voice taut. He groaned when my body shakes beneath him as he circled my swollen clit. "I can give you more than this."
"N-No, please, I-I think I'm good," my voice trembled from the sensation.
"Then look at me," he commanded, his voice back to its kind tone as he coaxed me. "Please, doll."
"I don't know you enough for that type of connection," I swallowed. "Just get this over with."
"But you do know me, have you forgotten?" he mused, his fingers slowing down. I tried to rack my brain for anything, but there was nothing. When I didn't reply, he sighed. "I guess not."
His form went from slight amusement to a detrimental, subtle disappointment. I can feel his despondent stare penetrate through myself, and it was then I realized that he was actually disappointed at my lack of response. 
"That man in the car earlier," he began. "Who's that?"
I was confused at first, then I remembered what he was referring to. Terror washed over me, he was watching me when San had taken me home?
"A friend," I curtly replied, making it short and hopefully he'll buy it.
He scoffed lightly and removed his hands from my aching cunt. I was pleasantly surprised when he actually got off me and sat on the edge of the bed with his back turned on me. I breathed a sigh of relief but not for long because he still seemed like he wanted to ask more and I was right.
"A friend, huh?" he scoffed again. "It didn't seem like it earlier. There was definitely a connection there."
I gulped. This man was dangerous. He was watching close enough to know the difference. I had to tell him the truth. "It wasn't like that," I bit my lip. "Mr. Choi has always been kind, he's a key figure in the complex."
His back tenses. "Why? You think you don't have a chance or something?"
"That thought never even crossed my mind," I sighed.
"Why?"
His voice was very strained. I paused, not knowing what to say. It was unnerving and the silence was making me sweat. I stared at his form and I almost gasped when I looked up at his face.
I couldn't see it but the shadows in his side profile blew my mind. This man was clearly handsome, not that it mattered since he was a creep, but I don't know. Maybe I was expecting a drunkard of an imp. Certainly not this one.
He clenched his jaw and I had to restrain the cynicism in my eyes. "Is it the age gap?"
My eyes widened in surprise. How did he know? San definitely didn't look that old from afar. That or I'm the one who looks old.
"W-Well, not necessarily," I stammered. "Though that is a huge factor, yes." I had this urge to tell him the truth, I don't know why. "Plus, there's no way Mr. Choi would look at me in that way."
"How would you know? You never once spared even a glance in my direction."
I was confused at what he was referring to. He did say that I knew him, but I certainly don't remember anyone that I was close with enough for me to look at them. The physical aspect too, this man is big and sturdy, I don't remember...
My brows furrowed in concentration as the man stood up from my bed and my breath halted. That was a lie, I did know someone who looked like this.
He stepped into the light and I audibly gasped. I'd always known he was incredibly good-looking but the light that the moon gave him did him justice. His jawline was exquisite, such a contrast to his cat-like features, and by God, his body. 
He stared at me with a seriousness I'd never seen him wear before as he took his grey suit off. He was left with a black turtleneck sweater that did nothing to hide his large biceps from me. 
"S-San?" I uttered his name before I could stop myself, sitting up so I could take a good look at him and determine if he was an apparition or not.
I couldn't help the shock and the dread that came over me. The one person, I had been putting up on a pedestal, the one man I had been thinking of asking for help in my dire situation was none other my intruder.
"I am deeply disappointed with you, Y/N. Truly," he shook his head in mock concern and crossed his arms over his chest.
San stared at me as I attempted to cover my almost naked body with my blanket and a couple of pillows. "That's not going to help your case," he smirked.
"I'm going to scream," I said indignantly. San raised a brow in amusement. "I mean it, please get out! I won't tell anyone---"
"Scream, if you must," he shrugged nonchalantly, walking closer to the bed again. "I paid the neighbours for vacation. They're probably halfway across the world now," he grinned sadistically.
I gasped when he put his arms on the bed, leaned on me, and whispered in my ear. "It's just you and me, doll. So go ahead, scream. It turns me on."
I pushed him away from me hastily and edged myself to the corner of my bed. "You're a monster!" I screamed.
San laughed loudly. "Finally," he mused. "I was so sick of playing nice with you. I like you like this. You look prettier."
The way he laughed out loud maniacally and sadistically scared me almost half to death. It was loud, deep, and menacing and it reminded me of how the devil would laugh if it existed.
I was alone, so screaming really wouldn't do anything. And I certainly wasn't going to knowingly do anything that was going to excite him. That was a terrifying thought.
The fact that it was the Choi San - the well-known gentleman, the man who was known to always smile despite everything, the one who drove me home without anything in return, at that time at least, and the person who was beloved by everybody from children to elderly people.
And the one I had admired from afar because of those qualities. I felt betrayed, and it hurt more than I'd like to admit.
We stared at each other for a moment, unmoving. San's icy glare was shrouded with the unmistakable fire of anger and lust, and I was afraid of how he would hurt me if he had become a little too unstable.
"You're a sociopath," I declared after the awkward silence. 
He raised his brows in a seemingly displeased manner, but at the same time, I knew he was amused. "Oh? Pray tell, my pretty doll," he mocks. "Enlighten me."
"I mean it," I declared, exasperated. "Y-You can't just break into my apartment like this and expect me to like you afterwards! You're sick in the head!"
He sighed, looking away from and staring at the window he broke into. For a second, I thought he was rethinking his actions, but no. He wasn't the Choi San I knew him to be anymore, I wasn't sure how far his instability would take me.
He side-eyes me, I looked back expectantly. "You can just give in to me or we can do this the hard way," San convinced, his tone calm but persuasive. He knew he had the charm and he was using it to his advantage.
"You took that option away from me when you forced your way in here and touched me in ways I didn't want," I scoffed. 
I was about to say more choice words, when San whipped his head towards me fast and I noticed his eye twitching slightly and the veins popping on his forehead while he looked at me long, too long, and hard. I gulped. He was angry.
I know I shouldn't, I know that I'm digging my own grave here by talking back at him but I can't help it. Whether it was the betrayal, one only I knew, or the adrenaline, I wasn't sure.
"I wouldn't be so sure, Y/N," he hid his annoyance with arrogance. It was the first time he said my name tonight and it dripped with venom. "Come hell or high water, I will make you mine."
The conviction in San's voice at his confession was nothing short of astounding and the way he's looking at me right now, I can't stand the intensity of it - he would rather take death than failure right now.
"And who do you think you are?" I was irked, really irked actually. It was the easiest way to hide my panic. "And if I say no?"
San smirked, darkness shrouding his features like he was waiting for me to screw up and say something stupid so he had an excuse to finally say what he's been wanting to say.
"I'm going to fuck you," San dared, no hint of amuse left in his tone. "The plan was to make you submit, but if it's impossible, then I'll just take you. The choice is yours."
I was taken aback. "You wouldn't," I whispered.
San cocked his head to the side. "Would you like to test that theory?"
I can tell he was serious, too. I haven't known him well, but tonight was not the night to test his integrity and if he was a man of his word.
"Can we just do this next time?" I begged. "I-I can come up with a better proposition for us--"
"No," he quickly cut off. "I already called out of your work earlier, anyway. We have all night and morning."
My face contorts in confusion. "What?" I apprehensively asked.
San started to stalk towards me until he was at the end of the bed. I gulped, the way his muscles rippled against his clothes emphasized just how big he was and how powerless I was. 
He poked his tongue against the inside of his cheeks as he looked down on me, literally and figuratively. He exuded a power that you can't touch, and honestly, it made me realize how truly dominant he was.
"I know everything about you, doll," he said as he took his wristwatch off and placed it on my bedside table. "I wanted you the moment I saw you for the first time."
I was tense and I watched him take his necklace out next while maintaining eye contact with me. "I kept asking around about you because for some reason, we never were in the same place together. You know what they said?"
I swallowed restlessly when he started to unbuckle his belt next. "You were the sweetest, kindest, and now that I'm up close and personal, the most innocent thing too."
His eyes darkened by the second and it reminded me of that sharp and scathing look I thought I saw on him earlier before I got in his car. It clicked; which one was the real San?  
"I know everything about you, my doll, except for one thing," he smirked before he took his turtleneck sweater off. "I don't know how you sound when I'm inside you, yet."
"You can't do this," I whimpered pathetically, trying not to look at how unfortunately beautiful his naked torso was.
His smirks widened. "You asked me in the car earlier if I had a family." Finally, his pants were off too. "I could give you one right now."
I didn't even have the time to look at his body - both in embarrassment and denial - and I let out a loud cry of protest when San grabbed my legs again and pulled me towards him. I kicked to try and stop him from having a good grip, but he was too strong.
"Hey, stop! Get off of me!" I screamed when he got on top of me and pinned me down on my back again. He secured me by pinning my legs as well with his knees. "Stop!"
His hand covers my mouth and my screams drowned into a muffled cry instead. "Shut the fuck up," he hissed. My eyes widened in terror at his threatening tone.
His eyes were so dark, fierce, intense, and domineering and it was then that it sunk in that he really was going to have his way with me. I groaned when he bucked his hip onto my stomach. I panicked, I could tell that it was going to tear me into two.
"Get off me, you bastard!" I growled when San took his hand off my mouth.
He laughed that attractive laugh of his again, the dimples that made me like him popping out once more. "You don't listen well, huh? I told you to shut up."
"And I told you to leave me alone!" I snapped back. His eyes twinkle in amusement. "So both of us are bad at listening then!"
In an adrenaline rush, I spit on him, and my saliva landed directly on the corner of his mouth. He was surprised for a second before he covered it up with annoyance. "You're getting on my nerves," he chuckled without humour.
Without breaking eye contact with me, he stuck his tongue out and slowly, sensually, licked my spit for him to swallow. I feel a gush of wetness between my legs and my cheeks burn in embarrassment while I whine in denial.
He raised a brow, pleased. "Don't fight on this. Your body knows what it wants."
"Go to hell," I growled in refutation.
His eyes narrowed into slits. "What's that?" San spat out in anger.
His hand hastily grabs the front of my nightgown with such force that the straps both broke. I gasped and then groaned in pain when his hand grabbed my exposed breasts painfully.
"Please," I croaked, my voice strained. "Don't hurt me."
A startled cry escaped from my lips when he bit down on my hardened nipple and tears formed from my eyes. He looked up at me and his eyes softened when he saw the pitiful state I was in.
"Be still," mumbled apologetically. "I won't hurt you."
I exhaled in relief but that relief quickly washed off of me at San's next words.
"If you listen to what I tell you, I won't hurt you."
"Please, I can't do--ah!" I yelped when he bit my nipple again.
"I wasn't asking," he hissed. His tone left me no chance to argue with him.
I can feel the fear in my chest waiting to take over at San's threats. But I was a virgin! It's not that I was a prude or I thought I was better than anyone else, no man has held my interest enough and most of them were after my body more than me as a person.
I bit my bottom lip hard when San's mouth started gently kissing my chest and then his mouth closed around my nipple while he played with other. 
"Wait," I whimpered when he started to gently suck, his tongue flicking out to lick them and then twirled it around his tongue. It was something new for me and I couldn't help but shake.
"Relax, doll," he murmured in between his sucks.
Tingles filled my whole body, and I felt something tickling down there. Pleasure radiated all over and body in ways I couldn't understand and I started to moan uncontrollably.
I looked down and saw San already looking up at me while he continued licking the sensitive bud. It was such an erotic sight and before I knew it, a wave of pleasure sent my body into shock and I began spasming against San's chest.
San held me in his arms and let go of my nipple with a small 'pop'.  I buried my face onto his chest in shame - I had just orgasmed with my nipples, alone.
San gently laid me back and we stared at each other wide-eyed, both of us clearly shocked at what just happened. Surprisingly, San doesn't comment on it. He leans in and gives me a kiss on my forehead.
"Good girl," he murmured. He put my arms around his neck and he buried his head on my neck and rocked my back and forth. "That's my good girl, just relax, okay? I got you..."
The way he was looking at me with such tender eyes and there was an expression in it that I couldn't exactly pinpoint. His soothing voice filled my ears and I let myself get lost in San for a moment.
"My pretty girl, oh, my Y/N..."
"Everything about you is so beautiful to me."
"I adore you so much, you know?"
"You are so perfect, and you are mine."
That hit me like a ton of bricks. I broke away from a confused San and my tears started to fall from my face. This was so wrong, what was I doing? But he felt so good with me...
"Baby doll, please don't cry," he pleaded.
"I can't do this," I started to try and get up. "Please get away from me..."
He releases a sigh and holds me in place. "Listen to me," his voice held an edge to it. I turned my head rebelliously and gasped when he held my jaw tightly and forced me to look at him. "Listen," he growled, eyes glazed in unparalleled anger.
I was having a small panic attack. "I just need a moment---"
San slapped my already aching jaw with a force enough for me to get out of it, but not enough for me to bawl in pain. "Listen to me," he snapped. "Silence. Not a sound from you."
I nodded my head quickly, afraid. "If you resist, I will punish you," he threatened. "And you know how I'm going to do it?"
I held in a whimper, truly afraid since San had this crazed manic expression on his face that I've never, ever seen him have. "Well," he smirked. "Let's hope you don't find out."
He gets up and quickly drags me using my arms to straddle him. "Wrap your hands around me," he demanded.
I did as asked and he grabbed my hips to immobilize me. San looked up at me with such intensity and I can't help but look away. I felt exposed and humiliated and I couldn't help but let out a small moan when I felt his hardness twitch underneath me.
"What was that?" he mocked. "What did I tell you about making a sound, you whore?"
I breathed hard and heavy, my exposed breasts moving about, but I didn't answer him back, scared that my response would trigger him.
"Answer me," he demanded.
"P-Punish," I stuttered pathetically.
"Correct," San grinned and it resembled a rabid animal who was ready to pounce on its unsuspecting victim. "Little sluts like you need to be dominated."
I was wide-eyed when he grabbed my hair and manually moved my head up and down. "That's right," he laughed sadistically. "Good girl."
San leaned in and put his lips against mine in a rough kiss. When I refused, he pulled the back of my hair again until I gasped in pain. His tongue plunged inside my mouth and I tried to turn but he painfully pulled my hair again as he moved away slightly.
"Stop it," he whispered against my lips. "I'm not going to hurt you."
He pushed my head and he kissed me again, this time, more gentle and more considerate. I tried to see what he was going to do if I moved, and true to my suspicions, I felt his hand tightening against my hair again.
Having no choice, I gave in to what he wanted. San groaned in my mouth and pressed his harder, playing with my tongue sensually as he massaged my tits. My skin began to feel warm and my heart began to beat faster and faster and I was pretty sure he felt it. Or was that his own heart beating with mine?
When San touched my cheek with frenzied motions, I hissed and I couldn't help but moan in protest. He pulled back and tenderly touched my face where a bruise was forming.
"What happened?" he asked softly. "Was it..?"
I quickly shook my head. "No, I-I mean, well, I barely felt the slap and you didn't even do it hard."
It was true. I don't mean to defend his actions, he's an asshole for that but even in a haze, I felt him repressing and it was only meant to break my panic attack.
"I'm sorry, doll, please tell me what happened," San murmured apologetically, his words somewhat loving.
I hesitated but the look in his eyes was so soft that I just had to. It was the gentle San that everyone knew him for when everyone would ask for his advice and wisdom. I bit my lip, remembering that there was a time where I almost went to him.
"Earlier in the car," I began muttering. "I didn't meet up with friends, I-I, uhm..."
"Go on," San assured me, tenderly rubbing my arms.
"I didn't meet up with my friends like I said I did," I revealed. "My ex called to try and get back with me. He got handsy when I-I said no."
His hands tighten on my arms and his eyes transform into a murderous glare. He pulls me into a hug and pulls away. "I'm going to fucking kill him," he cursed under his breath intensely.
"And you," he continued, putting my face in his hands. "You will never, ever interact with him ever again. You're going to tell me if he bothers you again, okay?"
I nodded apprehensively, unsure of what to say. "Good," San kissed my forehead. I bit back a cry of surprise when he laid me down on the bed and started to crawl his way down.
"W-Wait, what are you doing?" I panicked when he lifted the other half of my nightgown and lifted my legs to rest on his shoulders.
"I'm going to make you forget about that scum," he declared like he was telling me the weather. "Until you only know me."
I was still confused as he hadn't taken his boxers off, that is, until I finally got a good look at him. He was handsome, the type that can bring you to your knees. His dark hair was disheveled and when my eyes traveled down to his chest, I wasn't surprised to see that he was fit and the muscles on his abdominal area were very prominent.
The arms he used to leave my legs up were massive and I can tell he spent a lot on the gym working them out. However, it was nothing compared to the tent he had on his boxers. I'm not one to usually comment on it, but I can tell he was big. It's super cliche and honestly, it made me cringe to even think about, but I've only heard of that size in the novels I read. 
"You look so beautiful," he suddenly said. His stare was so intense and serious that I couldn't help but blush. "I mean it, Y/N. You're beautiful. I'm going to make you believe it."
Before I could say anything, I felt his fingers touch my slit. I bit my lip to stop the moan that threatened to pass my lips, but when San pressed on my clit, I had to let out a muffled mewl.
"Don't hold back on me now," he smirked, rubbing my nub gently at first. "I told you, you will forget everything but me."
My eyes widened when he licked his fingers and went back down there. The roughness of fingers added a new sensation I never thought I'd feel and it was bringing me such shame that I was even feeling this way.
"San, please," I mewled again when he added more pressure in his ministrations.
Suddenly, his fingers were gone and it was quickly replaced by his mouth. "San!" I screamed in surprise.
I felt him laugh and the vibration of it caused me to arch my back and accidentally rub myself in his mouth. San took advantage of this and dove his tongue between my folds, lapping at anything he could get his tongue on. 
"Just like that, doll, " he spoke in between his licking and sucking. 
I moaned loudly, my hands grabbing on the blankets in pleasure. He kissed my clit and gently suctioned on it, releasing it and doing it again and that tingling sensation from down there came back, but this one felt different; stronger.
"San, stop, it feels weird," I moaned and sighed, closing my eyes  involuntarily and shaking a bit against San's mouth.
"Quiet," he murmured, ignoring my plea and continuing on.
I choked on my breath when I felt his finger slip inside my pussy while he still licked. It hurt a bit, but nothing crazy. He pushed deeper and farther, until he stopped unexpectedly and quickly got up to look at my face with the most shocked expression I've ever seen him have.
"You're a virgin," he reeled in disbelief. "You're a virgin?"
I looked at him wide-eyed, embarrassed. My breath was quicker and it made me breathless. "I am," I admitted.
"B-But how? You're so beautiful," he stammered, clearly still in shock.
"I-I've been waiting for the right person."
He closed my legs, leaned his forehead on my knees, and a deep groan that was similar to a suffering soldier sounded at the back of his throat. He laid there for a moment until he got up from the bed and paced around my room.
I was left laying down on the bed as I watched him go through something akin to a midlife crisis. My virginity was the reason why my ex left me and why nobody stayed with me. I wanted someone true, someone I was sure I wanted to be with and vice versa.
San briskly walked around, stopping to face palm himself, then stayed in his spot to raise his head in frustration. He collected himself before he marched towards me with a stormy expression.
He leaned down and gave me a chaste kiss on my forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulled away and walked off to where his clothes were and started putting them on.
His gaze was steely when he looked at me. "I'm leaving," he said, voice tight.
I sat up slowly as I watched him put his sweater last and then his jewelry, a little surprised at the turn of events. "You are?" I couldn't help but ask, slightly confused. 
San nodded. "I am."
I wasn't complaining at all. This was a blessing in disguise. "I don't get it," I said as I covered my exposed chest with a blanket. "Why now?"
San exhaled a sharp breath, barely controlling himself. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment and he opened them again, he looked so tortured.
"Y/N, I cannot touch you," he whispered. "I want you so fucking bad. I don't just want you. I need you."
I couldn't breath, my chest was so tight. He exhaled a sharp breath again. "I won't be able to stop myself right now if I don't leave. I want to fuck you so bad, stick my dick in you and fuck you so hard you'll forget your own name."
"But not like this," he shook his head. "I don't want your first to be like this. I don't want to hurt you."
I was so stunned at his admission. "So we're...done here?" I asked softly, unsure of what was even happening.
"Yes. We are."
"What now, then? What's going to happen after this?"
San paused. "I don't know. I'll live my life, and you'll go back to ignoring me."
"Alright," I whispered. I was trembling as I tried to mend the straps of my nightgown enough for me to wear it temporarily so I wasn't too exposed in front of San. Not that it mattered, he's seen everything.
I stood up from my bed and San headed through the door to leave when he suddenly paused. He turned around and faced me hesitantly. "Have a good night," he said.
I nodded and turned to look at the damaged window where he came through earlier to break in my room. "How am I supposed to fix this?" I lamented.
He turned and marched towards the window and inspected it closely. I stared at the way he furrowed and unfurrowed his brows in concentration.
He stared me down and back at the window and he definitely got snappy. "I'll pay somebody to fix it tomorrow," he announced tensely.
"Why are you mad?" I asked.
He raised a brow. "I'm not," he denied.
I frowned but I let it go. "There's going to be a storm tomorrow," I sighed. "Nobody in their right mind will come down tomorrow."
"Can you call your parents right now?" San asked gruffly.
I shook my head. "They live abroad."
His brows raise in surprise and curiosity but he doesn't dwell on it. "Friends?"
"I didn't lie when I said they lived in the next city."
He ran his fingers on his hair with annoyance, his tongue poking his cheek with a scowl. "Doll, you can't stay here."
I smiled without humour in irony. I wanted to tell him that technically, this problem I'm having right now is his fault but I don't. I'm too tired to argue.
I heard him sigh. "Get dressed," he said. "I have tools in my apartment that we can both grab so I can do it today, myself."
"Okay," I murmured.
San nodded. "I'll wait outside."
When I was done, I saw San leaning towards my doorway and I had to suppress staring at him. He looked good, but he looked aggravated when he saw me, and he reached down for my hand and he began walking us through the complex.
I breathlessly tried to keep up with him. This is going to be the first time I'm seeing where San's apartment is. His hand felt warm in mine and without pausing, he walked both of us to the furthest part of the complex.
"No wonder we barely saw each other," I couldn't help but state. "You live on the other side."
He didn't reply. He took one glance at me and continued walking. I followed him obediently without question.
I had an idea where he was leading me. The complex was split into three parts - the regular kind, the modernized kind, and the luxurious kind. I lived on the second one, and true to my suspicions, San lived on the third kind.
"You live here?" I asked in awe.
I was so fascinated with this area and the fact that San was known to everybody. People here barely interact with anybody, that would mean that San would go out of his way to go join and seek out the people in the regular part.
I was so taken aback by my own thoughts that I didn't realize that we were by his door.
"Yes, almost two years now," he replied flatly. "After you."
Unsurprisingly, the interior looked grand and deluxe, albeit a little empty. It made sense, San seemed like a minimalist person and it showed both in how he dressed and designed his home.
He tilted his head towards a door at the end of the hallway. "Tools should be over there," he said, not looking me in the eye. "Let's go."
It was obvious that this was his bedroom when we both went in. The room was large, there was a king sized bed in the middle of it and a couple of pictures hung all over the area. I went and inspected them closely and saw that he was with a couple of people.
"Family?" I asked.
He hummed in response while he took his suit off and hung them somewhere. "Sort of. They're lifelong friends."
He stepped towards the bedroom door, closed it slowly, and turned the lock before he faced me. I was confused, when he looked at me, his eyes were the darkest I have ever seen.
"Get on the bed," he commanded. "I'm going to fuck you."
I didn't fully understand what he said. I thought I heard him wrong, but he was dead serious. "W-What?"
His eyes never left me as he stalked towards me like a predator. "I said," his tone was grim. "Get on the bed."
My eyes widened and the wind was knocked out of my chest. "B-But you said you weren't going to touch me," I whimpered.
"I know what I said," he snapped, his jaw clenching hard. "I'm taking it back."
San stepped forward and stopped a couple of feet away from me. I stared at him wary and not knowing what to do. I'm sure my eyes held terror. "Don't do this," I pleaded.
I yelped when San pushed me on the bed. He stood by it and watched me scramble to get up. I was truly frightened at the person in front of me. He leaned over and placed his hands on the bed while he stared at me.
"You don't get it do you?" San grimaced. "There are no tools. At least, not in my bedroom."
My eyes widened in realization. His eyes narrowed in veiled anger as he continued. "Why would you come here with me? I broke into your apartment and almost took you against your will! Do I look like the safest person to be with right now?"
My chest fell and ragged breaths escaped me, but he wasn't done yet. "Don't you think with your brain?" San hissed. "You are at my mercy right now. If I want to take you, no one would know."
"Are you going to...?" I whispered.
His scowl deepened. "Yes."
It all happened too fast and I had no time to dispute him. My shirt and pants were off in less than a minute and he slammed me against the bed.
"San, wait---"
I gasped when he slid a finger inside me quickly and I was unable to stop the small whimper of pleasure I felt. That felt a little too good. I didn't even notice that his clothes were gone too, and I couldn't help but look down.
My suspicions were unfortunately right - he was not small. And he was hard. I may be a virgin, but of course I knew what dicks looked like. It was very imposing, it made my heart beat with hesitation and a little fear. 
I tensed when he got on top of me and I felt him kiss my forehead softly. "I'm sorry," I heard him whisper.
I subconsciously pressed my fingers on his shoulder, trying hard not to look up at him or even inhale. The scent of him, alone, was driving me mad. I felt him hot and hard, pressing against my hole, and he thrust in bit by bit.
"Oh God, San, I can't," I cried out. The pain was so intense that it brought hot tears to my eyes. I heard him groan when I clawed his back.
"I'm sorry, I'll be careful," San cooed as he gave me tiny, little kisses here and there.
A strangled cry was torn from me when I felt him move again. His pleasure filled moans hit my ears, the vibrations from his chest sending tingles to my spine. "San..."
"Just a bit more, baby," he whispered. "You can take it, I know you can..."
He made small, gentle thrusts and I couldn't help but applaud the patience he had for this. I can feel how he was dying to just thrust in one go. I groaned again, fully wrapping my arms around his neck, in pain. I knew it was painful for the first time, but this pain was a bit too much.
"Fuck," he hissed, looking down at me with lust in his eyes. "I'm sorry, are you alright?"
I nodded and he took it as his signal to push in a little more. When he  completely bottomed out, I couldn't help but moan loudly. The pain  felt like the good kind.
"Oh fuck," he groaned. "Your cunt was made for me."
He pressed a hot kiss on my shoulder. The dirty talk was making me dizzy and I felt warm tingles spread all over my skin. San stayed inside me, unmoving, for a while and we decided I've warmed up enough, he began thrusting.
"San, it hurts," I yelped in slight pain. If I was being honest, it felt unbelievably good.
"Just take it for now, baby, it's going to feel better soon, I promise," he pecked my lips before he buried head on my shoulders.
And he was right. I swallowed a moan when San began to pick up the pace a bit. I didn't realize that I was moving my hips to his pace until I heard San whisper the dirtiest things in my ear.
"Y/N, fuck, Y/N, Y/N," San moaned my name like a prayer with each vicious thrust of his hips. "Doll, please tell me I can go faster than this, please."
I moaned in response, not being able to formulate a single word. San goes from fully gentle to straight up rearranging my insides. "San, San, t-too fast!"
Each thrust of his cock sent shockwaves through my body and it didn't take too long for my laboured breathing to turn into wanton moans with the way he went in and out with his quick rhythm. I felt him twitching, pulsating, inside of me and I squeezed.
"Don't do that, baby," San groaned. "God, you feel so fucking good…”
He pushed onto me and took my mouth in a stormy, demanding kiss. I felt his hand reaching from my hip to my front and his fingers pressed up to my clit.
"You like this, doll?" San asked tentatively.
I nodded my head and kissed his neck. "I do, don't stop."
His fingers stroke me, his thrusts not slowing down. Tears from the slight pain and pleasure combined fell from my eyes and his speed built back up, slamming into me so hard, I screamed loudly over and over again.
"Just like, Y/N, come, yes, come for me," San bit my shoulder and it was over.
It was my first orgasm from fucking and my body spasmed against him so hard, San had to hold me down. 
"Fuck, oh fuck, you feel so fucking good," San's muffled moans felt intense against my skin. "You're mine, okay?"
"S-San, oh, San---"
I screamed when he grabbed my hair and bit my ear. "Say it," he growled. "Say you're fucking mine."
"San---"
"Say it, goddamn it, fucking say it!"
His thrusts got more brutal, ferocious, more ruthless. "Okay, okay!" I moaned. "I'm all yours!"
"Fuck," he got out and thrusted back in roughly. I saw stars then and there. "You're mine, you're mine, fuck.”
His thrust went even faster than before, the bed was squeaking very loud, and the slapping of skin against skin more obscene than before. It was agonizing as I was still sensitive and I felt another wave of pleasure come, but this time, there was no pain.
"S-San, f-fuck, I-I can't---"
"I want my cum in you," he abruptly cut off, slamming into me so hard I was afraid I would bruise just from his thrusts alone. "God, I want my fucking cum in you."
"Please," I cried. "I-I can't do this anymore---"
He shushed me gently, slowing his thrusts down, but it was worse because he was doing long, deep thrusts instead. "One more, baby," he murmured. "Give me one more and I'll stop."
He kissed me hard. "I'm going to fucking pump you full of cum, doll, I'm going to breed the fuck out of you, fuck, this body deserves to be filled up..."
His words did something to me and I just came without warning. I screamed, my body shaking, shuddering beneath him. I felt warm liquid gush inside me and San's deep groans hit my ears and it felt more intense than the last. 
"Good girl," San gave me a hot kiss on my neck and I shuddered.
I moaned when he pulled out, though it stung a bit. I felt his fingers dip back in there and when he put it up, we both groaned at the sight of his cum glistening and stringy against the light.
"Open up," he murmured. I hesitated but did as told anyway. 
He put his cum-stained fingers inside my mouth and I grimaced at the salty, bitter taste. "I don't like it," I complained. 
San laughed out loud and crashed on top of me, exhausted. I almost fell asleep when I felt him get up and leave the room. It hit me of what I have just done, but I couldn't bring myself to care.
I groaned in protest when I felt something cold and wet down there and I opened my eyes to see it was San concentrating on cleaning me up like he was getting paid to do it with a damp towel gently and slowly. 
"Thanks," I murmured. "I...should get going."
He stares at me, all traces of roughness, maliciousness, and sociopathy gone on his face. He looked like the San I'd come to admire from afar before all of this happened. 
He titled his head. "Why?"
I frowned. "Isn't this customary? I'm not sure if you want me to stay. People will see, it's already morning."
"Let them see," he shrugged. "Of course I want you to stay. Plus, it's not like it's much of a secret, anyway."
That piqued my curiosity and all traces of sleep went away. "What do you mean?"
He finished cleaning me up, discarded the towel in the nearest bin, and tucked my legs back in the softest, most comfortable blanket I've ever laid down on. It probably cost more than my whole bed set.
I blushed when he smiled at me. It wasn't a fake or imposing one - it was genuine. "I'll be right back, okay? Then we'll talk."
True to his words, he went back, but this time, he had a glass full of water and two shirts. He guided me up to sit down and brought the glass to my mouth, the only thing I had to do was make an effort to swallow. I had to suppress a satisfied moan when the water hit the back of my throat. All the screaming before and after sex...
"Arms up," he coaxed. I was confused but did so anyway. He put what I assume was his shirt on me, and then put the other shirt on his own body.
I let him do what he wanted, the resistance felt so tiring to me. This was the man that violated me in every way possible, yet why do I feel this pull towards him?
I already knew the answer - there was always something there. Now that he had taken my virginity, the pull has increased tenfold, and the way he was so sweet to me was a mystery on its own.
"So, how many?" I asked when he laid down next to me and put my head against his chest.
"How many what?" San asked.
"You know," I gestured between the two of us. "How many girls have you done this to?"
I was referring to the break in. He frowned and shook his head. "I am deeply offended, but I understand so I can't be mad. The answer is zero."
"You expect me to believe that?" I deadpanned. "You were an expert in being a criminal."
"It's not that," he sighed. "I can't count the times I stayed awake in this very bed and pretended you were mine. That was enough practice on its own."
He kissed the top of my head. "And I told you," he continued. "It's not a secret."
"What do you mean, San?"
"I wasn't subtle about it, everyone literally knew I liked you," he chuckled. "No offense doll, but you're dense as fuck."
"Funny," I muttered, unimpressed.
San laughed. "No, seriously. I did everything to try and get your attention, I sent flowers to your doorstep every Friday, for God's sake."
My eyes widen and I look up at him. "That...was you?"
"Who did you think it was?"
I paused, hesitant, remembering his words earlier. "M-My ex..."
It was the reason why I even met up with him in the first place. I thought he was trying to win me back using his cheap ways. San stared at me, and I could see the anger slowly rising in his eyes, but alas, in the end he ignored it, thankfully.
"Hmm," he hummed. "If he tries something, tell me. I'm not just saying this just because of what happened between us, but as a human being concerned for another's well-being. What he did was wrong."
I nodded. That seemed fair for now. I tried to suppress the blush that was threatening to flare my cheeks up. His words make it difficult for me to hate him, for now.
"Having said that," he cleared his throat. "I tried to chauffeur you too, at the bus station."
"And I meant it when I said I didn't want to impose," I mumbled.
"The point is, anyone with two eyes can see it, doll. I always seeked you out of everyone," he sighed.
He cupped my face in his hands and looked straight into my eye. "I know you have feelings for me, and it's driving me crazy that you haven't realized it yet. I'm sorry it had to be this way."
"But what you did was wrong," I frowned, putting my small hands on his to push him away so he wouldn't see how distraught I was because he was telling the truth. "Just because I'm not putting up a fight, doesn't mean I'm happy. Why did you do it?"
San looked so crestfallen and I hesitated for a bit. "I...don't know," he admitted. "I'm so, so sorry, doll. Please don't push me away."
"You don't even know anything about me besides the basics" I sighed.
Held my hand tenderly. "Then let's try now," he smiled tightly, hopefully. "You said your parents were abroad, where?"
I stared at him, giving in eventually. "Yes. In London," I replied tentatively. It was a lie, but he won't know.
"Ah. Migrants?"
"No, I laughed a bit. "I was actually born there."
"So you have that accent?" San teased.
"Maybe, you tell me," I said with the said accent.
I reveled in his surprised face. "So why are you here, then?" San asked, genuinely interested.
"We went here for a vacation but I fell in love being here and yeah, I stayed," I chuckled. "It's probably why I caught your eye, because I moved differently."
San shook his head at me. "No," he said. "You would've caught my eye, regardless, United Kingdom or not."
He hesitated, pausing. "I know you're lying."
It was my turn to be surprised. "What do you mean?"
"Why you're here," he said. I was about to say something when he cut me off. "It's okay, you can tell me when you're ready."
I smiled at him. "Maybe one day."
"I'm just a little concerned about the age gap for now," he confessed. "And I know you are too."
"It's not that," I clarified. "Someone your age would prefer looking for someone your age, not someone ten years younger."
"Does it bother you?" San raised a brow.
"No, not in the slightest," I replied truthfully.
For the first time after we were done, San gave me a genuine smile. It was the type that reached his eyes; the type that reached a part of my heart I've been denying.
The next day, I woke up alone in San's bed on what seemed to be in the middle of the afternoon.
I couldn't suppress a hiss when I sat up. Besides my pussy, my entire body felt sore. I'm not surprised, we literally went straight into it. It made me realize that I was so out of shape and I needed to catch up.
When I felt the side of the bed, it was still relatively warm. San must've gotten up half an hour before me.
Which wasn't a bad thing. Now that I'm alone in my thoughts, I can focus on thinking about what to do from here not just for me and San, but for myself without him. I couldn't deny that the sex was mind blowing, but I had basically forfeited any real chance I had to erase myself from San's life and vice versa.
Giving in was a no-brainer. No matter how hard I tried, I knew all my efforts would have been proven futile in the grand scheme of things. I screwed myself up, however. And now, I want more.
After some more thinking, I decided to get up and talk to San. I put back on my underwear but I didn't bother wearing some pants, and San's shirt was large anyway. I just have to be careful not to bend over.
I was instantly hit with the smell of food when I got close to the kitchen, after much exploring, and my stomach began to rumble uncontrollably.
San was sitting by the kitchen island drinking a cup of coffee. He typed away on his laptop with furrowed brows. I watched the man I spent the night with - he wore a black shirt paired with black jeans yet he still managed to look good.
My heart palpitated when I realized he was wearing a pair of glasses. I've never seen him wear glasses before. He looked sophisticated, more chic, more attractive.
"Working?" I said out loud when he still didn't notice me.
San finally lifted his head up to look at me and his eyes slightly widen. I suddenly felt self-conscious when he started slowly taking in body slowly from head to toe until his eyes reached my face. His Adam's apple bobbed up and down as he gulped.
"Morning, well, afternoon," he snapped out of his trance. "Come sit. I ordered some food for us."
"This is a lot," I murmured when I sat down and tried to pick what I was going to eat. "Why did you order this much?"
"I didn't know what you wanted," he shrugged. "And I didn't want to wake you up to ask, better safe than sorry. Coffee?"
I nodded awkwardly. It was harder to be normal around him than I thought. San seemingly wasn't affected at all - he was still the confident, undaunting, self-assured, and bold man I knew who I was always careful with even before all of this. 
He sat back down on his chair. "Did you sleep well last night?"
"Yes."
"That's good."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
I cringed at how awkward I was acting. Not that I wasn't before, but I was more so now that we've far more things that normal acquaintances do. San smirked widely at my predicament, clearly enjoying the effect he has on me.
"I'm leaving in an hour," he said. "Something came up at work, but I'll be back before sunset."
He looked at me to gauge my reaction. "I would like it if you were still here when I come back, I'll take you out to dinner. If not, I understand." 
I had to stop the urge to smirk, myself. Wasn't dinner supposed to come first before the sex? This is going nowhere, I thought. It's either I talk to him now or I won't do it all. It was now or never.
"Uh, San," I cleared my throat. He looked at me expectantly and I almost backed out. "Can I talk to you?"
All the humour and mirth disappeared from his face and he became so rigid and tense right before my very eyes as if knew what I was going to say. In hindsight, we both knew he did.
"Okay," he mumbled.
I took a deep breath and laid it all out on him. "You don't need me to tell you again that taking me against my will whether or not we had sex was wrong."
San listened attentively. "You hurt my feelings," I croaked, my appetite suddenly going down. "You violated me, you couldn't approach me like a normal person? You could have knocked on my door."
Tears started to fall from my eyes but San looked twice as hurt as I did, if that was even possible. "Doll, please," he pleaded, reaching out to hold my hand but I didn't let him. He looked even more hurt. "I'm sorry, please don't say you're going to leave--"
"San, 'sorry' isn't going to cut it," I interjected rather harshly. "They way you went about this was so, so wrong. What were you even thinking?"
He didn't say anything for a while. "I don't know."
I saw red. "You don't know?" I scoffed. "What do you know?! Which one is the real San?"
"I know that my feelings for you are very, very strong," he answered without any hint of deception in his eyes. "You know who I am, Y/N."
"I wouldn't say that, you genuinely scared me last night."
He sighed before burying his face in his hands and groaning softly in frustration. "I know," he whispered. "I'm sorry, my doll, I'm so, so sorry. I truly am. I don't want to lose you, not like this."
When he looked up at me again, I held back a gasp of surprise when I saw his eyes glistening with tears. "I was wrong, I know I'm a piece of shit," he sniffled. "I'm sorry for scaring you, you were right, I was sick in the head. I don't know why I did what I did, and I have absolutely no excuses for it."
I felt limp and San took that opportunity to hold my hand in his and repeatedly kissed it and my heart ached. I felt lighter though, I know the apology was shit compared to what I went through, but the acknowledgement was much appreciated on my side.
"I'll make it up to you, okay?" San guaranteed. "You said you were waiting for the right person?"
He gave my hand another hot kiss. "I'm going to prove I'm the right person for you, Y/N, I promise you," he assured with desperation. "Even if it takes a lifetime, please baby, just one chance..."
Call me a bitch, but I intended to make him stew a little bit. 
"One chance, San, just one," I whispered. "If you screw up, I'm going back to London."
I won't go back to London though, that was the last place I'd go, but it was just a just-in-case type of a thing if he does screw up.
San buried his face in my hand in an attempt to cover the silent cry he was pouring out of his system. "Thank you," he whispered. "Can I hug you?"
I shook my head firmly. "No," I denied. "You don't deserve anything."
San pouted, and damn it, it was cute. "Okay."
He wasn't the only one screwed anyway - I may honestly be more screwed than him. I've liked him for so long but I was always afraid that he wouldn't look at me. When he found out I was a virgin and he stopped, I fell for him a bit more. If only he didn't fuck me afterwards.
The fault wasn't his own though. I didn't push him away. For now, it was better this way so I can gauge his sincerity, especially about why I wasn't in London in the first place.
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A couple of months passed since that fateful night, and true to his words, San did everything and anything possible to get into my good side.
We were the talk of the whole complex. San wasn't exactly the most private person when he was trying to show his affection. It was uncomfortable since the whole complex seemed to cheer when they found out San was trying to woo me, but I slowly got used to it.
Sometimes I would even look forward to it. I do feel a little bad sometimes because maybe I was power-tripping a little bit but the tiniest complaint from me and San would get into action.
"How was your meeting?" I asked when he entered my apartment.
He sat down on the couch with a heavy sigh. "Terrible," he groaned. "Bastards are trying to haggle from us with at least 30% of the original price. It's ridiculous."
I never denied him of time either. I knew I liked him so it wasn't difficult at all for me, so we would hang out at each other's places, though more him in mine than vice versa. 
We were in an odd spot, we were technically together but not at the same time because we never got intimate or held hands or kissed. Not ever since that night.
"So what did you do?" I asked out of curiosity.
"Oh. I said yes."
I raised a brow in surprise. "You did? That's a huge percentage, San. "
"Don't worry," he brushed off with a smirk. "You know me, doll, I always have to get something in return. Wait here."
He went outside again and he was gone for approximately half an hour before he came back again, this time, he was carrying a box.
"What's that?" I asked out of curiosity when he set it down at the dining table.
"It's for you, my doll," he smiled. "Open it."
I hesitated, staring at him apprehensively, to which he laughed. "Seriously," San insisted. "You'll like it, I promise, there's no bugs in there or something."
I picked it up and turned it slightly. It was a lot heavier than I thought. I raised my eye to San, and he had this look that was a mixture of pride and fear of rejection. Carefully, I lifted the covers of the box and was surprised at what I saw.
"Yubari King!" I exclaimed in genuine surprise. I looked up at San and he beamed ear to ear at my expression. "San? How?"
"That 30% I was talking about earlier, I exchanged it for these babies," he carefully tapped the expensive melon. "Our client had Japanese connections, you'll get more of these soon."
When San asked if he could get me something, I mentioned these in passing because I know they were extremely difficult to find in Korea and are on the expensive side as well.
"Y-You didn't have to," I said, feeling extra guilty.
"I told you," he smiled, grabbing my hand to kiss me. "I meant it when I said I'll do anything for you."
"Thank you, San, I really appreciate it," I murmured, giving him a small hug. "You're going overboard, I'm telling you."
"I'm really not," he teased. "How about you slice that for us? I kinda wanna try it."
And that I did. The moment I bit into it, I couldn't help but moan out in satisfaction. It was so crunchy, the middle of it the sweetest I have ever tried, and it really put it into perspective why these were very expensive.
"Holy fuck," San exclaimed. "I can't believe this actually tastes good."
"What were you expecting anyway?" I teased.
"I was hoping they'd taste like shit so I couldn't justify the price," he rolled his eyes playfully.
"So thanks to you, we're eating good shit," I chuckled.
"Yeah?" San smiled. "Would it be possible to get a kiss, at least?"
I froze, my arms and legs becoming a bit rigid. San notices and visibly panics. "No, I'm sorry--"
"We agreed that I was going to do this on my own time?" I was frowning, trying very hard to keep my voice leveled, but I was shaking a bit. I put the last slice of the melon and chewed on it rather roughly.
"You're right, baby---"
"Don't call me that," I hissed.
San deflated, looking visibly upset. I felt so bad, but I can't help the way I felt. "Sorry," he whispered.
This wouldn't be the first time I had snapped at him. Whether I wanted to admit it or not, I wasn't ready for any sort of intimacy with him even though I did want to give him a chance. Maybe it was the small trauma he inflicted.
Deep down, I knew it was because I was scared that once I let him in, he would stop because maybe he only wanted me for the thrill I gave him and my body.
"I'm going to take a nap," I sighed as I got up from the couch and tried to head to my room.
"Ba--Y/N, please, please, I didn't mean to make you mad," San pleaded. "What can I do to make you feel better?"
"San, I don't know, go pick some four-leaf clovers, or something," I spat, finally closing the door behind me.
When I laid down on my bed, I felt a bit lonely and cold. Today, San was supposed to sleep here. Yeah, for people not dating, we would sleep in the same bed. It was my sick way of dealing with my bad memories of him; so I can replace them with good ones.
At the far corner of my room, my eyes landed on the bouquet of the most beautiful jasmines I have been taking care of for weeks now. My eyes teared up, San gave them to me and I was floored. They were very rare where we lived.
I hit an all time low depressive state today. It had been two weeks since San and I started trying for each other and a week since I last saw even his shadow.
Oh, I was pissed alright. 
I sighed, I suppose I was right in not giving him a full chance because where was he? He literally disappeared, it was infuriating. It was one thing if he talked to me before and after, but no, absolutely nothing.
But behind all that anger, was sadness. I thought we were going to have something real despite the horrible start we had.
I sighed deeply and was about to go to my room and try to sleep everything out, but my doorbell suddenly rang. I was confused, I wasn't expecting anyone.
My eyes widened. Unless it was my parents. I got nervous, I wasn't ready to face them yet after running away.
I took a deep breath and opened the door, only to be face to face with someone I thought I'd never see again.
"San?"
He thrusted a bouquet of flowers in my hand. "Hi," he whispered.
"What the hell, Choi San?" I gritted my teeth. "You disappeared for a week without telling me where you were! I thought you left for good!"
"I'm sorry, doll, I really am," he frowned. "I didn't have service in Virginia."
"Virginia?" I raised my brow in genuine surprise. "What on God's green Earth were do you doing there?" 
He smiled widely, looking proud of himself. "I bought you your favourite flowers."
"What are you talking about? Those are---oh my God," I gasped audibly when I took a good look at the bouquet.
They were blue jasmines, a very uncommon species of flowers mostly found in the United States. My eyes started to tear up. "San," my lips quivered.
"I'm sorry I took so long, but you deserve the best," he assured, his smile growing bigger. "I told you I'd do anything for you."
I woke up all of a sudden, the pitter-patter of the rain hitting my windowsill loudly interrupting my nap. Suddenly, my mind went to San immediately.
I went out of my room to check if he was still here. I felt horrible for snapping at him and I intended to apologize. I was confused when I didn't see him because his jacket and phone were both still here.
"San?" I called out of nowhere while I tried to look at every nook and cranny in my room, but he was nowhere to be found.
I decided to go in my small backyard, knowing San wouldn't be there anyway, but my feet took me to my destination in my half asleep state.
I was about to leave after looking around, but my head quickly whipped back around to do a double-take. My jaw dropped instantly, I was wrong, San was here.
"Oh God," I whispered, horrified.
There he was, the big and strong man kneeling down the soaked grass searching for something in a way so concentrated, you would think he was looking for gold underneath the soil.
He was looking for a four-leaf clover. What have I done?  
Without thinking, I quickly ran towards him in the pouring rain, not caring if I wasn't wearing any slippers or carrying an umbrella, I just wanted to get him out of there.
"San, you idiot!" I screamed in frustration, quickly kneeling beside him to try and get him up. "Stop it!"
He was startled at first. "Doll, you're going to get sick," he frowned. "Go inside, I'm sorry I can't find any---"
"Forget it, I didn't mean it like that, please," I begged in exasperation. "I don't want you to get sick!"
We both stood in the middle of the grassy yard, not caring if the rain hit us. "You care about me?" San asked quietly.
"Of course I care about you!" I exclaimed, stomping my feet on the ground as if it would help me explain my thoughts. "I care about you a lot, you dummy."
He revealed a dimpled smile - a smile that was only reserved for me. "I'm glad," he spoke, grabbing me by the arm, then the head, and then leaned in to give me a kiss.
I kissed him back with equal desperation. It was everything I needed right now and the sparks that traveled through our bodies were intensifying the unspoken feelings between the two of us. Yeah, intense would be the word I'd use.
Before we both knew it, our clothes were gone and we were a mess trying to have each other on my bed, not caring if we were both wet from the rain. It might sound ridiculous, but there was no other way to describe what we were doing but making love.
"This is something you want, right?" San asked. "You'll have me, and you're going to want me to have you."
"More than anything in the world," I replied. 
"Y/N, I mean it," he kissed my lips. "I want all of you, not just your body."
"Show me," I whispered.
All our pretense and doubt went out and the world melted away into nothing. Everything was raw and intense, every breath fast and both our hearts were finally becoming into one. This was only our second time being this intimate, and maybe I was delusional, but this one felt better than the first. Maybe because I had feelings for San this time. Everything happened as quickly as it started.
"I won't let you down," San murmured, hugging me and giving me a tender kiss on my forehead once everything was said and done. "My feelings for you are deep."
"As mine are," I tilted my head to meet his lips. "Just don't break through my window again."
San laughed loudly. "I won't," he turned to the window he fixed up quite well. "On one condition."
"The audacity," I playfully rolled my eyes. "What is it?"
"Be my girlfriend?"
I frowned. "I thought that was a given?"
"Oh," he shrugged. "I wanted to ask anyway. Is that a yes?"
I nodded and was about to say something witty to him, when my phone rang loudly in the background. Without thinking nor looking at the screen, I answered the phone. "Hello?"
"Oh, Y/N, it's about time you answered," my dad's irritated voice sounded from the phone.
I yelped in surprise and stared at a curious San. "Ah, D-Dad, can I c-call you back in a minute or two?" 
I hung up before my dad could even say no. I hit my forehead frustratedly with my fist while mentally how dumb I was.
"Doll? Is everything okay?" San asked, worried. "Why'd you hang up? This wouldn't be the first time either."
I peered at him cautiously. "You noticed, huh?"
"Is it related to why you don't want to go back to London?"
"Yes," I sighed. "I'll explain later, let's get dressed first."
I dressed hurriedly because knowing my father, he would call back if I was even a second or two late from the promised time. If San and I were going to be together, he needs to know why I'm here. It's just a shame that he had to find out this way.
"It's okay, doll, I'm here if anything," San assured while the phone rang. "Oh, he picked up."
I panicked a bit and positioned the front camera to my face and out of San's. "Dad!"
“I'm disappointed that my only daughter doesn't want to talk to me," my dad's face held a little sadness, but nothing crazy. "Mingi and mom say hi."
"Who's Mingi?" San hissed. He winced a bit when I kicked him on the leg.
"I'm sure my brother," I glared pointedly at San. "And mum is fine."
My dad rolled his eyes dramatically. I guess that's where I got 
my bratty attitude from. "They'd be better if you came back home," he sighed dejectedly. "Next time you don't answer your phone, I'm cutting off your allowance."
"Dad..."
"I'm serious, Y/N, I'm getting old," he began to say, and I got nervous because I knew what he was about to say next. "If you could just give my friend's son a chance, you might make a connection with him."
San's gaze went from curious to immediately pissed. He gave me a flat look of annoyance. "Don't say a word," I mouthed silently at him.
"Dad, you know I want to be with someone I truly liked," I sighed  exhaustedly. "And I want the relationship to be natural, not because we were matchmarked with one another."
"I didn't tell you to marry him on the spot, sweetie," he said with a frown. "I'm not going to force you, but all I ask is an initial meet up and see where it goes from there."
When I didn't answer, my dad continued his tirade. "And what do you do, you rebellious child? You run away when you know we can't reach you!"
I glanced at San with a tight smile and a mutual understanding passed between us. Now that the truth was out, San looked weary and I got extremely nervous.
"I've met him plenty of times, he's a great guy, Y/N. Very polite, intelligent, and easy on the eyes too."
"I'm sure he is, dad," I chuckled nervously when San glared hard at the phone. He glared at it so hard I'm surprised laser beams haven't shot out from his eyes yet.
"If only you gave him a chance," my dad hummed thoughtfully. "He's a bit older than you are, but I'm sure you'll be in good hands."
"You know I'm not into older men," I mumbled under my breath. San had the gall to look extremely offended.
I muted myself really quickly and lifted my phone up so my dad couldn't see my annoyed face. "I'm just making excuses, don't give that look," I hissed at San. He just rolled his eyes like a toddler throwing a tantrum.
"He's not that old," another voice said from the background who wasn't my father. He must be out with his friends somewhere.
San raised a tentative brow and slowly sat up, but I ignored him.  He can stew for all I care. It's cute that he's jealous but this wasn't the right time, my dad might ask me to separate with San and I wasn't ready to get heartbroken yet, especially since we just made up.
"Ah, that's my friend, Cheol," my dad said. "Actually, it's his son that we were hoping to pair you up with---"
"Give me that shit, I can't take this anymore," San hissed and roughly grabbed the phone from my hands. I was about to protest loudly but when he gave me that especially terrifying glare of his, I sat back down.
"Please don't say anything stupid," I pleaded.
He raised a brow and rolled his eyes. He's really pissed, oh my. He cleared his throat and positioned the front camera properly towards his face. My dad must be so confused right now.
"Sir," San started with the most polite, but firm voice I've ever heard him speak. Spoken like a true business. "I'm your daughter's boyfriend and with all due respect, I really like---dad?"
I was so startled at San's voice but apparently so was he. It was like he saw a ghost with how pale and how wide his eyes have become. 
"San? San! Is that you?! Give me that real quick, Hyun Sok..."
I swiftly sat beside San so we were both in the camera. I was so surprised I couldn't even say a word. We heard quick shuffles from the other line and another man that looked just like San, but older, also had this shocked expression.
"That was your dad?" San looked at me.
"That was your dad?" I shot back.
"What are you doing in London, dad?" San managed to say despite the shock.
"Never mind me, son, what are you doing there?" his dad queried. I saw my dad shuffle in the camera and if it wasn't for the situation, I would have laughed at how priceless his shocked expression was.
"I knew that voice sounded familiar," San grumbled.
"Well, since it came to this," San sighed. He held my hand and brought it up to the camera for both our fathers to see. "Dad, this is my girlfriend, Y/N. Doll, this is my father, Choi Jongcheol."
"Y/N? Is this true?" my dad inquired. I nodded in confirmation, afraid of his reaction, but instead me and San had the surprise of the lifetime when they started laughing loudly and chaotically.
"I gotta hand it to your son, Cheol, he sure gets the gold, know what I'm saying?"
"I taught him no less than that! Shit Sok, this was even better than we were hoping for!”
"Didn't even need to set them up for a dinner date, my God."
"Definitely went straight to dessert."
"Aye!"
"Okay," I spoke slowly and awkwardly. "Dad, what's going on?"
"Your boyfriend," he chuckled. "That's who I wanted you to meet a couple of years back!"
I was surprised, and so was San, with the new information. Now that I think about it, everything fit. The timeline of when San moved here, especially, and one time he did mention his father trying to set him up with someone but he also denied the offer.
"I thought you didn't want someone older?" my dad raised a brow mischievously.
"Some things change," I shrugged, trying hard to hide my blushing cheeks.
"How did you two meet?" Jongcheol asked curiously.
"You don't wanna know," San chuckled nervously. I blushed harder when he kissed my cheek in front of both our dads and both of them had this shit-eating grin on their faces.
"Well, we don't want to hold you guys," my dad said awkwardly and not making eye contact. I was confused until he said, "Your hair is messy, and San's shirt is on backwards."
I groaned in embarrassment and covered my face as I ducked away from the screen in order to save face. San chuckled softly at my demise.
"Well, be careful you two," San's dad teased and I heard my dad laughing in the background. "Use protection, Choi San, but not too much. We don't mind grandkids soon---"
"Dad! Ugh, so embarrassing!" San screamed and hung up.
He tossed the phone away somewhere on the bed as if it was the plague, itself. We both burst out laughing at the irony of the situation for ten minutes straight.
"Had I known it was you," I chuckled as I laid my head on his shoulder. "I'd have agreed immediately."
"We both didn't know, it's okay," San hummed. "We both ended up together anyway, didn't we?"
"True. The irony of it all, I can't believe this," I smiled. "Still, we could have met sooner."
"Sooner than that," he sighed. "Your brother has been trying to invite me to your house back then too. I just always said no because we were both busy trying to start the company."
I was startled. "You know my brother?"
I hadn't seen my brother, Mingi, for a while now. He was the reason why I was successful in moving here, though I never told him why. And my parents never told him either because I knew they didn't want to stress him out for his---
The realization hit me. Mingi was also ten years older than me, I was a happy accident, you see, and he was also trying to start a company with his friends here!
"Yes," San confirmed. "He's one of my best friends, didn't you see the photo by the doorway?"
I knew the photo he was referring to. It was the one that hung in his room, one of the very few decorations he had, that I was looking at where I thought it was his family at first and he said they were lifelong friends.
"I-I don't remember what it looked like," I admitted. San whipped out his phone and showed me the picture and my jaw hung open when I saw Mingi at the very top corner of the photo. "I've never seen Mingi with pink hair before, how was I supposed to know?!"
Needless to say, I was definitely going to call Mingi later. San laughed out loud at my expression and once again, we were laughing together.
"This fate thing is crazy," I giggled. "Do you regret anything?"
"Never," San shook his head. "I say we celebrate this new found information."
"And how do you propose we do that, Mr. Choi?" I teased.
I screamed when San got on top of me and he hovered over me with a playful smirk on his beautiful face. "I can think of a few ways," he pecked my lips. "What do you say?"
I giggled uncontrollably and nodded. We might not have started on the right track and some people might think I'm dumb for giving the man who forced me to his will a chance, but something tells me we're going to be fine.
By all means, San isn’t perfect and neither am I, but sometimes we need people who aren’t perfect to help us achieve what’s good for us, not what is right.
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lorelune · 5 months
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O4O: part i
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|| jing yuan x reader || E/18+ || omega for omega, soft smut || wc: 10.3k  || ao3 ||
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Jing Yuan has been content riding out his heats alone for centuries. You, despite being another omega, are happy to lend a hand if Jing Yuan will have you.
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minors, antis and ageless blogs dni
💦🎀 this piece is apart of SPRING FEVER: an omegaverse collab! 🎀💦
part i (here) — part ii — part iii (coming soon!)
notes: hello omega jing yuan omega jing yuan save me... the way omega jy has haunted me for months. MONTHS. this fic is incredibly indulgent soft, needy smut with non-traditional a/b/o dynamics. THANK YOU to the lovely @owlespresso for beta reading!! please read the tags and enjoy!! <3
CW: a/b/o dynamics, omega jing yuan (with afab and amab anatomy), omega reader (afab anatomy), past yingxing/jing yuan/dan feng, bottom jing yuan flavors (though reader does not do any penetration), use of toys, worldbuilding around omegaverse, lots of biting, milfy jing yuan, mommy kink without the word mommy (at least not in this part 👀💗!!),
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Jing Yuan has not shared his heat with anyone in a very, very long time. Centuries, most certainly. Jing Yuan doesn’t find it very useful to keep track of that length of time— he finds it cumbersome if anything. There’s no use holding onto a past that only forces him to redigest pain. 
Jing Yuan rarely has heats. He keeps a diligent schedule of medication and only has to go through them once every decade or so. Occasionally less, if the Luofu is passing a particular star system or comet field. His heats are always cumbersome. He can conceal his omegan sensibilities often, but it is more difficult prior to a heat.
Preheat is a different beast.
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When Jing Yuan sequesters himself in his estate for the better part of a week, anyone who knows he’s even there assumes it is to go through a rut. A week is a standard amount of time to take off for a rut and is expected. However, a heat has a standard time off of about two and a half weeks. Much longer to accommodate preheat and nesting needs. 
Jing Yuan rarely indulges his own. 
The Luofu, at large, assumes he is an alpha. This is manufactured, however only partially. Generally, the citizens of the Luofu assume, given that he is the General and he has a larger, broad-shouldered stature, that he is an Alpha through and through. He always wears scent patches in public, which is normal for both omegas and alphas. Betas, too, occasionally. Depending on the subtype. The Charioteers know that he is an omega, but they are committed to some amount of discretion and guard the information as a secret. Lady Fu, an alpha, will occasionally scold him for being so secretive. Like he harbors some sort of self-hatred that he is an omega. 
It is simply more convenient for him to be seen as an alpha. Jing Yuan doesn’t wish to disturb this perception.
And therefore, it is much easier to wait as long as possible between heats and bear them alone. Whatever instincts he has can be satiated with toys and a half-decent nest. Jing Yuan has always considered this enough. ‘Enough’. 
(It’s not sating. Jing Yuan cannot lie to himself about this. He remembers laying with Yingxing, and how the alpha made him feel more full and content than Jing Yuan had ever thought possible during a heat. Or ever, truthfully. He remembers how calming Dan Feng’s presence had been— grounding and reassuring, too. Jing Yuan was fucked, filled and protected. An omega’s dream.)
Jing Yuan... copes with what he has. A large, plush bed with a downy mattress, a few donated, alpha-scented garments, and a collection of inflatable, knotting toys. He always leaves his heat with lingering cramps, a brutalized hole, and a yearning that takes a few weeks to quiet itself. 
It is natural that he craves his mates. Even if they are long dead (not dead. Not really. Not the same as they once were, anyway.)
And certainly, never to be his again. The mating mark on his neck has long faded.
Jing Yuan tracks his heat so such yearning can be anticipated and planned for. He knows when his heat is approaching, down to the specific day it will occur. He titrates off his suppressants carefully, and maps out a portion of time off for himself a year or so in advance. 
Which is why it is very odd that he starts exhibiting preheat symptoms in the middle of the day, a random day, during a tactical meeting.
Even if he had been titrating down his dose in anticipation for a planned heat in a few months time, it is far, far too early to begin feeling symptoms. The familiar itchiness prickling under his skin is entirely unexpected. Jing Yuan has to put a particularly large amount of effort to get through this unnecessary meeting without letting a single symptom slip. He can only adjust in his seat so many times before it is improper, or juggle the cradle of his jaw from one hand to the other before it is clear something is wrong. 
If any of the Charioteers and their advisers notice anything amiss with him, they say nothing. The only one who looks off-put is Fu Xuan. She’s a spitfire alpha herself, and perhaps she’s keen enough to notice that Jing Yuan is beginning to feel... unwell. Though he is masking his scent as he always does, he imagines that the flush in his cheeks is becoming increasingly obvious.
Fu Xuan gives Jing Yuan a wary look as the meeting is dismissed.
“General,” She says curtly. “Are you well?”
“I’m fine,” He gives her a rich laugh as he stands, muffling a groan as his stiff back and knees ache. He’d sat for too long. He feels light-headed as he rights himself and Fu Xuan glares at him.
“I doubt that,” Fu Xuan huffs. “I will not interrogate you in public, nor do I think you would give me an honest answer even if I did—”
“So little trust in me, Master Diviner—”
“ However, I will urge you to go home. ” She takes a step closer and sniffs the air. It’s just the two of them in the meeting room now, the rest of the parties in attendance having filtered out. Subtly and without fanfare, she takes his hand in her own, and presses her wrist to his. Jing Yuan keeps an easy grin on his face but can’t help the way he tenses his fingers, flexing them at the contact. “Do you need an escort?”
“Is Lady Fu worrying for me? How kind.”
“I’m— not, ” Fu Xuan huffs now and more roughly smears their wrists together. The scent gland she is almost abusing is swollen and hot to the touch. It takes all of his composure not to squirm with her treatment. “I’m no fool. If you have a heat starting, you should be comfortable at home, not in a war room.”
“Master Diviner, you think I’m an omega?” Jing Yuan says with a smile. He knows she is already privy to this, but he can’t resist teasing her a bit.
“You are insufferable. Even in this state. Go home. I will take you there myself.”
“I’m afraid I can’t return home just yet,” He hums. He imagines he has a few hours before proper pre-heat sets in. “I have a lunch date that I cannot miss.”
“You— a lunch date?”
“Yes, of course. It’s a scheduled event, dear Diviner.”
“Do not patronize me.”
Jing Yuan laughs as she fumes. He has the urge to ruffle her hair, but thinks better of it. The complicated updo would surely be ruffled, and Jing Yuan is already getting an earful as it is. 
“I would never.”
Fu Xuan yanks her arm away with a growl. She wears some type of masking perfume, she always has, but with her frustration swirling, a bit of her actual scent peaks through. It’s light on the back of his tongue, floral almost. Nearly inedible, but the kind of scent Jing Yuan that makes him nostalgic—
(For a master with a scent like frost-covered roses, and a packmate with a scent filled with springtime lilac blossoms in fat clusters.)
“If this lunch is really so necessary, may I escort you there at least? Or will your alpha be meeting you here?”
“They’re not an alpha.” Jing Yuan hums. His stomach feels warm regardless. “And I’ll be just fine getting there myself.”
Fu Xuan looks at him, questioningly. Her lips open, then close once more. There are questions she clearly has. And for all her brashness and hot-blooded fervor, she understands decorum better than most. She pries out of care and her good intentions, and Jing Yuan can respect that if nothing else.
“I’ll concede,” Fu Xuan sighs. “ However, please let me know if there’s anything else you need. You have my number.”
“Noted.” Jing Yuan rises, and feels the heat clouding his head sink lower in his body. He’s being engulfed. 
Fu Xuan deadpans, “General—”
“Have a good rest of your day, Master Diviner,” He calls with a light laugh, slipping away before Fu Xuan can give him any further grief.
...
As the Arbiter General of the Luofu, Jing Yuan knows its streets and secrets very well. There’s more than one way to arrive at his favored terrace garden without being seen or smelt by the public. It is helpful that this path is lined near an aqueduct stream, surrounded by lush greenery and clumps of fragrant azure asters. This path is tucked away, straddling an external tunnel of the Luofu’s inner tunnels. Really, only the Calibrators aboard the ship use it, and as there are only a few and they tend to keep to their delve, Jing Yuan has very little fear walking this way at his own leisure.
He is glad you tend to take your lunch dates in the privacy of this particular garden, under the gazebo and nestled atop its many silken blankets and pillows. A conventional restaurant in this state would be doable, but unideal. 
Jing Yuan can smell you as he approaches. It makes him pause, just outside the gate. His hands hovers over his jade abacus as he opens his mouth to taste you in the back of his mouth.
(Warm, a familiar scent that he associates with the rare indulgence of relaxation. It’s not overly sweet or ripe, but balanced and full-bodied. Not quite floral or fruity, and not deep enough to be akin to an aged black tea. Perhaps like the roll of a hearth or the beeswax of a lit candle.)
He’s sighs. It calms him instantly. 
Even if you aren’t an alpha, you are familiar, as is the current setting.
You’re sitting at a low table in the shade of the gazebo. There are several plates of cheeses, cut fruits, salted meats, and nuts laid out. You’re ladling sticky honey into a small dish as he enters, and look up at the sound of the gate closing.
You smile when you see him.
“General,” You smile. “I apologize, I started setting up lunch without you. Everything should still be chilled.”
“No need to be sorry,” he laughs gently, brushing a hand against your shoulder before rounding the table, and taking a seat across from you. “I could never complain about your diligence. You have chosen quite the spread today, haven’t you?”
You flush with a nod, and gesture down to the table, “The markets were lovely today, I had to splurge. You’ll have to let me know what you think.”
“Only if you do the same.”
“I-I can do that,” You smile at him softly.
Despite your familiarity, you still regard him with some amount of anxiety. Jing Yuan has long since placed this has less to do with his status as General, and more than likely due to a deepened amount of affection that Jing Yuan... entertains. Enjoys. Thrives off of, even. He perhaps returns it, though he hasn’t told you that explicitly.
Besides, you believe him to be an alpha. He’s sure that, if you did know his secondary gender, such affections would fade quickly. The allure of what he could provide as an alpha is quite different from what he can provide as an omega.
Jing Yuan takes a sip of sparkling juice, and as he lowers the thin-necked glass, you look at him strangely. A crease knits itself between your brows.
“Did I get some on my face?” Jing Yuan chuckles and wipes at the corners of his mouth with his thumb.
“No... you just,” You stumble with your words, hands flexing in your lap. “Are... are you alright? Your cheeks look quite warm, and you’re sweating around your hairline.” 
You always have been keen to bodies other than your own. It’s not the most common trait. 
“... Am I?” Jing Yuan could choose to lie at this moment. It would be easy to say he was using a new brand of suppressants, or blame it on a stressful day. However, he doesn't like lying to you, only twisting the truth when entirely necessary. “I do suppose I’m at that point in my cycle.”
“Oh!” You startle and sit up more straight. You push a plate at him. “Pre-rut? You should eat, then. You’ll need your strength. Do— do you have someone I can call? I don’t mind.”
Your worry is cute. 
Jing Yuan can’t help thinking about it. You are an omega full of so much care and urge to help. Jing Yuan has seen it and experienced it many times, and has also seen how it has gotten you into unfortunate situations. You have a trusting mind and spirit, and more than once, it has been used against you. 
Jing Yuan likes keeping you close, so he can look after you, even if it’s from a distance.
He stares down at the plate. There’s a pile of glistening orange grapes, a few roses of sliced, cured meats, a chunk of honeycomb, and buttery looking crackers. It does look delicious, however Jing Yuan has always struggled to eat in his pre-heat. When he looks up at you to decline, your expression looks even more worried, almost sour.
Before he can speak, you are. Petal-soft lips lips downturned. “Are you... not in pre-rut, General?”
He deflates, slightly. He is old— and. He does not wish to steer you away from what is a correct assumption. You are his most trusted companion.
“I am not,” He says softly, and picks up one of the grapes. He squeezes. The skin is taut and tight. “And, please call me Jing Yuan. Formalities can be dropped, yes?”
“I— yes, of course.” You look from his plate to him. “So, you’re... pre-heat?”
“I am, yes.”
“Oh!” You immediately heap his plate with several other kinds of fruit, and grab a clean glass and pour ice water from a pitcher into it. “I apologize— for. Making such an assumption.”
“No need to apologize.” He soothes and lays a hand over yours. “I’m aware of what the vast majority of the Luofu assumes my secondary gender to be. It does not bother me. If it did, I would have corrected the greater public long ago. I apologize for not telling you directly until now.”
“It’s— okay,” you reply. Perhaps a bit hurt. “I never asked. I just— I just thought. Wrong.”
(Please be kinder to yourself, he thinks. It hurts to see you saddened on my account.)
“Nonsense,” he laughs and gracefully takes the water you offer. He downs the glass down his parched throat. He— hadn’t realized how thirsty he was. “No harm done. If anything, I’m grateful that you now know.”
(Regardless of how it could change your feelings toward him.)
Jing Yuan has tempered heartbreak for millenia. Another one— is not nothing, but it is manageable. Perhaps not during preheat, but he still has time to mourn. 
“I’m glad too,” you tell him, and squeeze back his hand. You only scent him sometimes, always so shy about it, but now you firmly rub the scent gland in your wrist against his. His aches, and the sensation and exchange of pheromones nearly makes him wheeze. He straightens his spine. 
“Was that—?” You almost pull away.
“No, it’s very welcome.”
You stare at him, intent and soft, before settling. Tentatively, you rub at the gland in gentle circles.
“You should eat,” you say after a moment. “Do you have an alpha I can call? Or— um, anything you need me to pick up for you?”
“I am fine.” Jing Yuan will text Qingzu for the essentials, rather than troubling you. “I’ll finish lunch with you, and then see myself home.”
“... No alpha to pick you up?”
“None to speak of, no.” Jing Yuan manages a smile.
(It has been— centuries since Jing Yuan had an alpha to care for and stake a claim on him. The notion of finding another has been put out of his mind since he himself had to confine Dan Feng to the Shackling Prison and exile the man Yingxing became. Even after meeting them as they are today, Jing Yuan knows they are no longer his mates.)
“Oh.” 
Every one of your emotions is so clearly on your face. You look so sad for him and you squeeze his hand. He has half a mind to pull away, and remind you that he does not need your worry. However, he is in pre-heat, and by Lan, he is craving worry.  
“And... heatmates?” You ask. “I don’t want to pry, but it’s hard to spend a heat alone.”
“Once again, none.” Jing Yuan replies without hesitating. The silence that follows is poignant as you study him. 
“I see.” You frown again, clearly thinking. Jing Yuan can see the thoughts turning around just behind your eyes. You pile on even more fruits to his plate. “Eat, eat. You need it.”
“This much fruit will give me a stomach ache, I fear.”
“Some of it, at least!” You huff at him. “For me, please?”
Jing Yuan meets your gaze, easy and soft. There’s no threat, only the heat that matches your scent and the feel that radiates in his chest.
(You are not his alpha. You are something entirely different— something that he wants so badly to hold.)
“For you.”
...
By the end of lunch (in which, Jing Yuan does manage to eat a decent amount of the fruit you’d put on his plate), Jing Yuan’s pre-heat has begun to simmer into a more uncomfortable territory. He desperately wants to shed his uniform and armor, and slip into a robe and no bottoms. He hasn’t begun to slick yet, but he will surely start to by sundown.
Jing Yuan stands after the meal, stretching. It’s proper afternoon now, and the birds of the garden chirp eveningsong. 
“Jing Yuan?” You ask as he stretches his arms above his head. His name sounds lovely in your mouth.
He hums, “Yes?”
“Do you want a heatmate?” You ask quietly. 
He looks at you. 
You’re fiercely meeting his gaze, even though you’re clearly struggling to. Your bottom lip is tucked between your teeth, and you’re fighting a frown from the crinkles on your forehead. Regardless, you stand your ground and ask a question that is surely difficult to broach, especially so directly.
“I—I am offering.” You stammer. “To clarify.”
“To be my heatmate?”
“Yes— I hate to think of you suffering alone, Jing Yuan. If I can be by your side to ease it, if only a little, I would like to be.”
“That is very brave of you to ask.” He smiles with a tilt of his head. “And bold.”
“I— I’m being honest.” You almost whine. It’s so cute. “Is that a no?”
“No, not at all.” Jing Yuan replies. “However, I wouldn’t want you to help solely for my benefit. If you wish to enter my nest exclusively to be an aid, and not out of... personal wants, I would feel guilty.”
“It’s— it’s personal wants too.”
“... Is it now?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Even though I’m not an alpha, as you thought?”
“Yes.”
“You’re certain.”
“ Yes, Jing Yuan.” 
“I cannot give you a knot—”
“I do not need one!” You break, much to Jing Yuan’s amusement. “I am happy to be by your side, regardless of that! If anything, I’m more than happy to share a nest with you without the assurance of a limp and a potential pup.”
Jing Yuan smiles, almost unrestrained, and your cheeks heat deliciously. 
You stammer, and poke at his chest, “You’re teasing me—!”
“I apologize, you must forgive me—”
“ Rude—!”
Your bury your face in his chest and nuzzle there. It’s— clearly a self soothing action, one you realize a moment too late isn’t quite proper. You stiffen, beginning to draw away, before Jing Yuan catches you by your scruff and holds you there. 
“You’re alright,” He holds a wide palm there. “I apologize for teasing you. I mean so warmly.”
“... Scoundrel.” The sound muffles into his chest.
“Am I?”
You peer up at him, so warm in the cheeks and eyes... almost watery. Something in his chest feels sticky and molten. 
“ Yes—” You dare to meet his eyes again. “But, one I’m very fond of.”
Jing Yuan steels himself.
You are an omega. It is not your pheromones addling his mind. There is clarity in the attraction and affection he has for you, one not influenced by the urge to be knotted and bred. Though, Jing Yuan wants that, maybe part of him needs it. There is a trunk full of toys and implements he has tucked away that will sate the urge. The feelings that he carries for you will not so easily be placated.
“I would like it very much if you were to share my heat with me,” He speaks softly, just for the two of you to hear. Not even the garden birds will know his words. “If you are still offering.”
“Yes,” You say quickly, tentatively wrapping your arms around his waist. “Yes.”
He chuckles, easy and low, and presses his nose into your hair. Perhaps it’s pre-heat, making him sentimental and mushy. He usually hides out and bears it alone in his comfiest nest so these feelings typically do not get expressed in any other way other than delirious, anguished cries while a knotting toy takes the edge off. 
Jing Yuan finds these are nice to indulge, as your scent envelopes him.
...
“I lied earlier,” Jing Yuan says as you enter the threshold of his estate. “I apologize sincerely.”
“Oh?” You ask with a tilt of your head, accepting a pair of house slippers eagerly. “... What about?”
“I am in pre-heat unexpectedly. Though I have been tapering suppressants for an anticipated heat, it has come far earlier than planned . Things are... not as I would like them. You’ll need to excuse me for a few moments.”
Jing Yuan, like any omega, is particular about his home and nest, especially around his heat. He knows his home and inner chambers are not to his liking and he’ll need to prepare them. Even if you aren’t an alpha entering his nest, you are a guest and companion he is very fond of. You deserve only the best.
“Of course, whatever you need,” you assure him. “Do you need me to grab anything while you do so? I don’t mind running to the market—”
Jing Yuan turns on his heel, grabbing your arm firmly, “You’re not leaving.”
“O-Oh.”
Your eyes widen, and heat rises in your cheeks. Your throat bobs as you swallow and nod. Jing Yuan— were he not in pre-heat, would perhaps be a bit embarrassed by his brazeness. However, now? The idea of you leaving his home sends him reeling. You cannot leave— not until you smell like him and his nest. Not until— not until this is over.
“I sent a request to Qingzu to fetch us a few things during the walk over. She’ll be here shortly. I do, however, have a bowl of fruit that could be cut up while I get myself sorted. How does that sound?” 
You nod eagerly, happy to follow instruction. Jing Yuan knows this about you and enjoys it thoroughly.
He sets you up in the kitchen with a bowl of sunsiettas, a box of meldberries, and a few bunches of perfectly ripe, round kaishen grapes. Jing Yuan leaves you to the task, which he can already tell you will do dutifully. You thrive off of praise and direction. It’s a dangerous trait of an omega to carry, even more terrifying to hold openly as you do. Jing Yuan knows it has burned you before.
However, he intends to indulge you well and kindly, as it pleases him very much.
His mind, far-too warm and itchy, yearns to spin fantasies as he locks himself in his room with a shake of his head. 
He must keep it together. Just for awhile longer. His bed is— not a nest. Not the nest he wants (needs) it to be. His duvet, thick and luxurious as it is, needs a fluffing and a fresh scenting. His pillows are not arranged to his liking, and he needs to poke through his linen closet and add some extra layers as well. He needs to make sure there’s lube nearby with clean toys. Water out. His phone charged and volume on— (though, he already sent a message to Qingzu stating his heat has hit and he’ll be out for at least a week. ‘Defer to Diviner Fu :3’ , which is Jing Yuan’s payment to Lady Fu for the list of errands he had sent her.)
Jing Yuan shakes his head with a laugh. The little alpha will certainly be pleased when she hear she’ll get to play General for a while. 
Pre-heat drives him forward. He sheds his many layers (without aid, which is objectively a headache and he regrets not asking you for assistance initially. However, Jing Yuan is fairly certain that if he were to be fully bare around you, regardless of his pre- heat or not, he may jump you and drag you into his nest—)
Pre-heat is also making him somewhat irrational.  
He throws on his favored robe, a silken, cream-colored garment with delicate gold and red embroidery around the hems. The sleeves drape at his wrists and a sash ties it snugly around his waist. The itch that’s been rolling around just under his skin feels duller, with the less restrictive garment. The fabric crosses over his chest in a way that is... revealing. Probably too revealing, under any other circumstance, especially given that you have never seen him in anything less than his daily regalia. 
The thought of looking so indecent around you has its allure to it. One that Jing Yuan lets himself entertain with a smitten smile as he works.
He is attracted to you, surely. This he knows and has known. 
Jing Yuan acknowledges that this is both emotional and physical. You are dear to him, truly. In a way that is unique to any of the connections, he holds in the present. Your presence is one he thoroughly enjoys, and, more than once, (many times), has craved during his late-evening ruminations in his courtyard. He— has thought about inviting you over, if for nothing else than a chat in the moonlight and tea or wine to your preference, however—
He has always stopped himself.
Yearning, he will allow in the ways he has learned to manage it over the centuries. Small doses of longing that can be enjoyed and swallowed down, without festering. Being brazen with his wants and feelings is... slipperier. Especially concerning you, as you are dear to him, and Jing Yuan, for better or for worse, would like to share space with you for as long as he can manage. 
This attraction is regardless of secondary gender. 
Jing Yuan has not cared about secondary gender for a great while (since he shared a bed with a short-lived alpha and one of Long’s Scions, who, like all Vidyadhara, did not have a secondary gender at all.) 
Your presentation as an omega was never a deterrent to him. If anything, it was something of a comfort. Jing Yuan was claimed long ago, and he knows that no alpha’s claim will feel the same as Yingxing’s and he wouldn’t want anyone, especially you, to attempt to emulate it. The ownership of a claim was not something he sought. Jing Yuan has had his heart broken enough for this lifetime. He is sure you could rend his heart asunder, however it would not be in the way of losing a mate that he is biologically tied to. 
Statistically, Jing Yuan is lucky that such a loss did not cause him to become Mara struck five hundred years ago.
He is very content with whatever your relationship could become. If nothing else, the prospect of it allures him. Especially now that you know his presentation and clearly seem undeterred yourself. If— if anything. Your scent calmed and cooled when he’d told you on the terraces. 
Another thing that Jing Yuan will have to parse when he isn’t so wet that he’s leaving puddles in his wake. 
For now, Jing Yuan’s nest is satisfactory aside from a few personal items. 
Now, all it’s missing is you. 
...
Jing Yuan does not find you in the kitchen, but rather the foyer, wishing Qingzu a goodbye with a wave and shout. 
Jing Yuan must—
(Temper his instincts because you are far too close to the door and you need to be in his nest and his teeth need to be in you and his scent on you—)
“Jing Yuan,” you say to him warmly, with a smile. There are a few canvas bags on your arms. “How are you feeling—?”
Jing Yuan can’t stop himself from dragging you away from the tall set of doors and back to the kitchen. You squawk at his firmness, but don’t reject his touch. He helps you heft the bags onto a low table. His own arms shake, with both the strain and his own heat-induced weakness.
“It’s really progressing, huh?” You tentatively raise a hand, and place it on his forearm to stroke there.
Jing Yuan practically purrs when you rub over the silken fabric, “It is. Quickly. However, my nest and appropriate supplies are ready. Did Qingzu deliver all that I asked?”
“It seems so.”
There are— three more bottles of lube. A few pearly-looking medicine pills, a specialty item from the Alchemy Commission. Several stacks of ready-made meals and electrolyte powder. There are several vials of milky-looking oils he had her grab for more scandalous purposes as Jing Yuan would like to avoid any type of friction abrasion. Lastly, there are few unmarked boxes with new toys.
“You’re so well-prepared.” Your eyes are wide as you take stock of the haul. Jing Yuan bundles things into a basket and ushers you to his nest.
“I have gone through many heats,” he chuckles. “I have learned the best tricks.”
“I-I can see.”
As you enter his bedroom, you stare at his nest with wide eyes. You jump when Jing Yuan locks the door.
“... Is that alright?” Jing Yuan asks.
“Yes, yes, of course. I just—” You swallow. “I haven’t ever helped another omega through a heat. If you have any pointers or preferences, let me know while you’re still in your full mind, please? I’d like to make this as comfortable for you as possible.”
Jing Yuan thinks for a moment. With a tilt of his head, he rests his hands on your shoulders. Your scent is spiced, a bit nervous, but also undeniably aroused. Your gaze darts down to his exposed collarbones and chest, then quickly back up to his eyes. Heat rises fiercely in your cheeks. 
“Your presence will be helpful in and of itself,” he assures you with a squeeze. Carefully, he hooks his thumbs on your outer garment and pulls it down, undoing buttons and ties along the way. Your lips part, breath hot. “I’ll guide you as I need. My heats tend to be mild, though they do last a full week. There will be lulls, which I tend to be quite worn out during. I’ll need your assistance more than anything.”
You nod, taking in his response. 
Jing Yuan— he’s holding it together. Slick is beginning to drip down his inner thighs and there’s an ache in his core that feels heavier and hotter by the minute. However, he does want to do this part slowly. He prides himself on his patience. Piece by piece, he takes off your day clothes and tosses them into his nest. Without them, your scent is stronger. Your neck is bare from any topical or adhesive blockers.
“During the rest of it though?” You ask, softly. “When you’re in the throes of it.”
Jing Yuan hums, letting a shaking hand rest on the curve of your waist, “I’m not certain. It’s been quite some time since I’ve shared a heat with anyone.”
“... Really?”
“Yes.” Jing Yuan presses his lips to your forehead without thinking. The heat of it, of you, sinks into his own. He feels like he’s going to burn up. “Does that surprise you?”
“Yes.” You answer, and push yourself closer to his neck. Your lips part to taste his scent on the back of your tongue. “You are a catch. I know you have quite the lineup of suitors... I just assumed.“
“You also assumed I was an alpha.”
“The General is a skillful liar.”
Jing Yuan clicks his tongue, sliding a hand below your last garments. Satin, lacey things that are almost sheer. Thin. He could tear them easily, but doesn’t. His touch lingers.
“ Jing Yuan,” he reminds you. You stammer before pitching into him. He carefully walks the two of you backwards. His legs are close to giving out. “And I’d like to think of it as a skillful withholding of unnecessary information.”
“ Jing Yuan is very good with his words,” You murmur into the soft skin of his neck, lingering around one of the scent glands there. They ache, sore and unstimulated.
So carefully, you stretch up on your tiptoes to nose at one of them. Your scents bloom together and his eyes almost roll back into his head at the meld of it, the relief and rush of connection. 
It’s the last push Jing Yuan needs before dragging you into his nest with a stifled moan. Coherency is shattered and all he can do is crave, crave, crave.
...
You are a good heatmate.
Astoundingly good. Attentive, kind, and so soft. It’s a relief to Jing Yuan, who’s heat-addled mind is so used to loneliness and cold. You do not have the scent or knot of an alpha, but you’re more than enough. It’s presence and comfort in a way Jing Yuan so, so missed. It’s enough in a different way— and that difference is good. 
(You are not Yingxing or Dan Feng, and Jing Yuan is grateful that you aren’t.)
Jing Yuan finds himself on his back, with you wrapped around him. You let him pillow his cheek against your collarbone. His nose presses against your scent gland, and he pants against it with an open mouth and spit slicked lips. Your hand lays over his chest, cupping his breast while gently thumbing over his nipple. He’s so swollen there, aching.
He cries out as you pinch, as if it could relieve any of the pressure roiling around under his skin.
You curl closer into him with your lips against his temple. “Does that feel good?”
He can only keen and hope you understand that it’s a plea for more. 
You must because a moment later you’re squeezing with your entire hand. It’s— too big of a handful for you. Your fingers are soft and your touch gentle. The visual of the plump flesh of his chest bulging out from between your fingers rewires Jing Yuan’s brain for a craving he never knew possible. A rush of slick gushes from his cunt and— it’s so much. He lurches into your neck, licking blindly at your scent gland. Vaguely, he notices you stiffen and your scent grows a little sharper. 
It’s worry. Jing Yuan can’t have that.
With every ounce of his strength, Jing Yuan rolls you below him, and sits on your hips. You let him, so pliant and agreeable, and lay below him. Jing Yuan’s breath catches and drool slips to the corners of his mouth.
You are beautiful. You look debauched, and you’re not the one in heat. You’re flushed and damp with sweat, just as he is. The robe he’d draped you in is mostly open, revealing supple skin and your last bastion of modesty in the form of a cute pair of panties that Jing Yuan will fantasize about later. 
You look up at him in awe, lust-hazed just like him. There’s little composure to be had as your fists ball up in the sheets around his thighs. Your gaze goes glassy as you look from his face down to where he’s seated atop you and back again.
“No teeth,” he assures you. It is the last coherent thought he has, if only to provide your some comfort.
You look up at him sweetly and nod, grabbing the plump flesh above his hips. “No teeth.”
(A claim wouldn’t take, anyway. Not really. Omega-to-omega pairings lack the necessary pheromones to stake a claim on each other. The most it would do would indicate that whoever has been bitten is a submissive-leaning packmate. Which— Jing Yuan actually would not mind biting you. He would like his teeth in your neck if you would ever allow him.)
He groans at the thought, lowering his head as a silver mane of hair spills around his face.
Jing Yuan is drenched and hard, leaking from the tip of his cock and seam of his cunt. It’s— filthy. You’re soaked too, with a mix of him and undoubtedly yourself too, though Jing Yuan can’t scent it over the smell of his own heat. It’s regrettable as he is sure the mix of you must be divine. Heavenly. 
He wants it in his mouth.
Jing Yuan slinks down your body, licking and sucking at patches of your skin. You try to bat him off, haul him up and away from your own leaking sex, but he resists. He needs a taste or he’ll die, probably. His heat can be quelled in a number of ways, he presumes.
With his face buried in your cunt, surrounded by your scent, the ache for a knot is dulled. When you cry out on his tongue, it is almost deafened.
Jing Yuan drinks you up— he should pay more mind to your clit, probably, if he wants to get you off properly. However, he is so immensely distracted by your entrance and the essence of you that’s leaking out. There’s a rapidly widening damp spot beneath your ass. A steady flow that Jing Yuan needs in him. 
He seals his mouth over your cunt, and prods his tongue inside of you. He presses so close, suffocating with his nose tight to your clit, to lap at your insides. 
You— you wail above him. Your hands bury in his increasingly tangled mess of hair for any sort of leverage. Jing Yuan doesn’t let up; he doesn’t think he can. Your tone crashes into one that’s softer, more airy, begging for more. For less. Jing Yuan can’t entirely tell. He isn’t sure he cares, truthfully. All he knows is that your thighs tighten around his head with each suck and slurp.
The sound of it is heavenly.
Your thighs press around his face. Flush to his cheeks are the scent glands in the apex of your inner thighs. Not everyone has them, as they’re something of a recessive trait among all secondary genders. The scent that comes off them is your own, however muskier and deeper. It sticks to the inside of his nose and pours down his throat like a nectar. You mewl when he breaks away to lap at one, coaxing out more of the scent. He gluts himself on it.
He needs, he needs, he needs.
“Jing Yuan,” you pant above him, propping yourself up with one arm while the other blindly reaches among his nest. “Do you need it? Knot?”
He— 
(He needs to be filled. He isn’t picky if that feeling is quenched with his cunt, ass, throat, or nose. The scent of you is almost enough, even if he clenches down on nothing and feels hollow in his belly. The sensations are so dull with you nearby. He feels heat incensed, but in a way that craves closeness with you and not the manic pursuit of a knot.)
It’s refreshing. Jing Yuan regrets not propositioning you for this treatment sooner.
“Are you offering?” Jing Yuan purrs. He places his thumbs over the scent glands of your inner thighs and presses down on the swell of them, just under your skin.
Your back bends off the bed and you throw your hand over your mouth. Teary eyes meet him and you nod. From the folds of the nest, you pull forth a knotting toy with a shaking grip. 
It’s beautiful for a toy. It’s a model that Jing Yuan had seen in a few high-end adverts on the few social medias he moonlighted on. It’s a flesh-like plastic cock, with an inflatable knot at the base. A little, wired remote drags along the blankets of his nest as you hold the phallus out to him. The plastic of the toy is a light gold, cut with veins of blue. It looks otherworldly and unreal. Jing Yuan has never cared for much realism with his toys, though this one is human enough. 
He makes a mental note to get Qingzu a bouquet for purchasing it for him on such short notice. 
The head of it feels cool against his cunt. It’s a welcome sensation as it feels like his body is burning up from the insight. He lays over you, wrestling you a bit to be flat below him, with his thighs caging yours. He growls when you try to grab the toy from his hands to assist.
It makes you pause.
Your soft palms cup his cheeks, “Do you not want me to help?”
“The angle—” The angle won’t be right, Jing Yuan wants to say. His words feel lost in his throat as he slowly begins to push inside himself. He gasps and tries to duck into your neck, to like and suck at the gland there and feast on your scent.
“I can try—?”
“ No.” 
Jing Yuan wants you just like this. In his nest, smelling like him and arousal and safety. The toy that’s sliding into his cunt is mostly irrelevant, as is the twitch of his cock as he slowly and methodically fucks the toy into himself. Little by little, he bullies it into his underused hole. The stretch is— is not bad. It would be far more uncomfortable if he weren’t in heat and pouring slick. 
You ask more quietly, just as he bottoms out. You still haven’t let go of his face. “Are you sure?” 
He is, but he can’t find the words to say so. Instead, he nods and tucks himself closer to you. You pet down the back of his neck and push on his scent glands. They ache with his heat. The pressure and direct contact makes him grunt as he adjusts to the toy in his cunt.
You hush him and nuzzle in his cheeks, “You’re doing so well. So good, Jing Yuan.”
He keens and pulls back the toy cock, only to shove it back into himself a moment later. Praise from you is a drug. He’s sure. You’re unbearably earnest and sweet and you are too kind to him. You whisper more of them into his ear as he fucks himself, deep and slow. He feels the sentiment of your words more than he hears it. Deeply affectionate and caring. If he were more lucid, he would be disarmed by you, speechless even. Perhaps he is already speechless, but he blames that on the heat haze and how the head of the toy is pressing deliciously into his sweet spot.
He narrows his focus on the spot and fucks him on the toy in earnest.
Jing Yuan will have an arm ache after this. Many aches, actually. It will be worth it. It is easiest to bear with you underneath him, tilting your hips up to grind against his dripping cock. It’s not the friction his body craves, but it’s welcome. It sends sparks down his spine and he whines into your neck. 
You nip at his neck, high on the side of it, and Jing Yuan lets loose a cracking moan. It’s almost embarrassingly loud. Were Jing Yuan able to feel shame in that moment, he’d be red-faced.
Instead, he tips his head to the side, allows you room to mouth and suck marks as you desire. You catch on quickly, and hum, licking broad stripes and soaking him in your scent. Your marks. It surrounds him.
He fucks himself on the toy faster.
(It’s nothing like the heats he had while he was mated with Yingxing and Dan Feng. Not at all. They were shorter, back then. Perhaps it was his youth or the relentless pace and haze Yingxing kept that burned Jing Yuan out faster. Or, maybe it was that Dan Feng always made sure he was wrung out, despite not craving him in the same way Yingxing had. It was carnal then. It still is now, but it does not feel as manic. You are gentle without qualifiers, sweet without expectation, and happy to let him rut into you and back onto the toy as much as he pleases. Your kisses are bruising, but not bloody like Dan Feng’s. There’s a different pace, a different scent, and a different intent.)
Jing Yuan once enjoyed the desperation that Yingxing put into everything he did (including him). He had fallen in love with Dan Feng for his poetics and distanced care. You have neither of these. It is unfair, ultimately, for Jing Yuan to draw comparison. 
Perhaps, he’ll feel guilty over it later. For now, his arm gives out and he falls into your chest with a keen. His back arches, hips raised, and the new angle is so, so good. You run your hands through his hair, and move your thigh, just right, so he can grind on it to his heart’s content.
He’s close; he can feel it in his belly.
What sends him over the edge is the feel of your lips against his hairline, the way your lips have curled into a soft, easy smile as you kiss him there. You stroke down his back, like how a good lover would.
You are a good lover. 
He shudders as orgasm grips him. The sound that rips from his throat is shattering, as overwhelming as the heat that boils over in his guts. And you are such a good lover, that the little remote must have already been in your hand, as in the moment he comes, the knotted base of the toy begins to swell. Jing Yuan can’t— can’t chase his orgasm. He can feel his eyes growing wet while his body feels out of his control (he hates that, he really does). You, however, are a good lover and reach and stretch, matching his angle with the toy and fuck him through it yourself. The knot catches once inside him, then a second time, and with the third, it locks him and the toy together.
And with what can only be called a sob, Jing Yuan fully collapses on top of you.
He can’t keep himself upright, he realizes. His thighs tremble terribly, and his arms are the same. His eyes are filled with tears he didn’t expect and doesn’t know what to do with. It feels vulnerable. Too vulnerable, in a way that Jing Yuan has avoided for centuries now. 
Before the feeling can consume him, you’re coaxing him onto his side and wrapping yourself around him. A sheet gets pulled atop the both of you and you’re nosing into him wherever you can.
“It’s okay,” You tell him. “You’re okay, I promise.”
A muffled sound that comes from your throat, followed by the low roll of a purr. 
Oh. 
All for him?
He shoves himself closer, skin to skin in all the spots he can reach. His tongue laves at your scent glands as his cunt flutters around the toy. He claws at your back before locking his arms around your waist. 
You’re purring for him.
He can help but do the same, even chirping without meaning to as he nips at your jaw. Jing Yuan trails his lips to your cheek, then the corner of your mouth. You curl and laugh at his touch, and Jing Yuan steals the lovely sounds from you with a kiss. It’s something deep and consuming, and Jing Yuan needs more of the taste of you. You squirm into it, gasping and opening your mouth for him to explore as he needs. Your openness continues to undo him. 
It’s all the reassurance he needs. Any poisonous feelings fall away, and Jing Yuan, for the first time in far too long, finds himself content and knotted. 
...
Jing Yuan has never had a heat quite like this one.
It is certainly more mild, and certainly a bit shorter than what he was expecting. The worst of it lasts five days, followed by three days that he can’t quite call post-heat. Though the desire in him is less feverish, he still craves your presence so much it hurts, and the idea of you being out of his nests sends him into a toothy panic those days. The ‘no teeth’ rule is modified to allow some biting, as long as it doesn’t involve any scent glands.
(However, Jing Yuan still would not mind putting a claiming bite on you. He makes a note to bring this up when he’s feeling some clarity of mind and can... attempt to court you properly.)
The most intense days of his heat are spent with a knotting toy in his cunt, rutting against your soft thighs, or with your hands wrapped around his cock. He eats you out whenever he can muster up the energy to shimmy between your legs and luxuriate there. Any down time is spent dozing in the warm sun rays that his bedroom is perfectly placed to receive. 
The latter days of his heat, Jing Yuan is more lucid. 
It’s in those days he truly enjoys his heat. Though the burn of arousal still lays within him, it is easily tempered with your presence in his nest and your many shared bite marks. Your time awake is spent lazily kissing, speaking in low voices, and sharing laughter and cups of cool water, one after the other. 
Jing Yuan, partially, did not think he would ever get to experience this type of connection again. with you or any other partner. The intimacy of the act is so deeply vulnerable, and after the spiritual loss of both Yingxing and Dan Feng, he never endeavored, or wanted to endeavor to, open himself up in that way again.
He, perhaps, convinced himself he did not need to.
(Nevermind the many nights, both heat-addled and otherwise, Jing Yuan spent craving nesting companions. Nevermind how many nights Jing Yuan lay alone, accepting his losses and mourning mates he’d never hold again. Jing Yuan could never choose to be selfish.)
It helped when Yanqing was little. He was just a small pup with golden eyes like Jing Yuan’s and a fiery spirit, even when he was so small. Jing Yuan had never considered himself maternal, however having a pup to take care of brought out latent instincts he’d spent the better part of his life pretending didn’t exist. As Yanqing aged, however, he was less receptive to such affections and connections. After presenting (far too young, poor thing, traumatized body), Yanqing wouldn’t share a nest with Jing Yuan unless he fell ill. Even then, Jing Yuan would have to coax him into it.
It quenched something in him. It allowed Jing Yuan to let himself care in the direct way he craved. With his position as General, how often does get to show care with his hands, and not with his words or stratagems? Not with sacrifice or poetry, but with his body and scent. 
Jing Yuan realizes now that there truly have been so many urges and behaviors Jing Yuan simply did not indulge.
And as his heat breaks, Jing Yuan thinks he’d like to start indulging them more.
...
On the last day of his heat, you stir around nightfall. You are exhausted, Jing Yuan knows this. Though his heat has provided him with a surprising amount of stamina, you are in standard condition, and looked wrung out halfway through day two of his heat. Jing Yuan’s grateful you’re as fond of midday naps as he is. 
You are cradled against his chest, your cheek pillows on his breast. He’d thrown a robe on while washing up, and hadn’t elected to remove it. The silky texture of it feels lovely against his flushed, sensitive skin. You seem to enjoy it too as you grip at the fabric of it in your sleep, nuzzling into his chest.
Your brow scrunches and a little sound pops from your throat as you try to burrow closer. It’s a hopelessly sweet gesture, desperate and honest. Jing Yuan can’t help but chuckle and smooth a hand over your mussed-up hair.
When your eyes crack open, your voice is raw, “‘S morning?”
“No, nighttime.” Jing Yuan nods to the darkened window.
You raise yourself up just enough to look, hum, and then fall back on top of him, “Feels like it should be morning.”
“We haven’t been keeping a very consistent sleeping schedule,” Jing Yuan rarely does, but he imagines that you and your position with the Sky Faring Commission have quite a regular routine. “You can keep resting.”
“I don’t wanna’,” Though, you shove your nuzzle into his chest, smearing him with your scent. “I wanna stay up and talk to you.”
“Me?” Jing Yuan smiles, smitten. He pinches your cheek. “About anything in particular?”
“... Not yet.” Your eyes slip closed. “Maybe later. I want to say things to you, but I feel... mushy. Inside my head.”
“Pheromone drunk?”
“‘Something like that,” Your words slur. “Not that I’m complaining. You smell so good, Jing Yuan.”
When you say his name, he shudders. The hand that’s been playing with your hand slips to your nape and squeezes. You keen at the contact and tangle your legs with his. It’s an impossible amount of closeness you are seeking, but Jing Yuan must attempt to give it to you. It’s abashed and honest, and in the stillness of night, how can he not indulge?
“Do I?”
“ Mhm.”
“Like what?” 
You’re falling asleep, clearly. You’re struggling to keep your eyes open even as you inhale deeply. Your lips part and you take his scent into your mouth. 
“Earth after rain,” You hum. “Sunbeam and linen. Warm milk.”
He squeezes you.
(A long time ago, Yingxing had complained about his scent. ‘Complained’. His face had been flushed crimson, telling him how distracting his sweet, rich scent had been. Dan Feng thought it was the funniest thing, considering Yingxing so clearly enjoyed Jing Yuan’s scent, as did he. They’d described it similarly— “petrichor” Dan Feng had told Jing Yuan while sweeping his mane back from his neck— “the smell of sunshine” Yingxing had told Jing Yuan after berating him.)
“How complementary.” Jing Yuan purrs and pulls you closer by the waist. Your face is smushed against his chest, but you don’t complain. You keep your lips parted to enjoy his scent. “And you like it?”
“So much,” You assure him, droopy-eyed. 
So good for him, so so good.
Jing Yuan presses the tip of his finger to your lips, a bit chapped from the dehydration and exertion. You chirp with it, a bit more awake.
He hushes you, and pushes his finger further into his mouth, “Sleep now, dear. You need to rest.”
“‘So do ya’,” You try to say, though it comes out garbled as Jing Yuan lays his finger on the flat of your tongue. Your eyes widen and go a bit crossed to look at his wrist, then up to his eyes. 
Jing Yuan isn’t entirely sure what compels him, but something does. Gently, he leans down and presses his lips to your forehead. He idles there, and pets down your side.
“I’ll sleep soon, I’m sure you know.” Jing Yuan says softly. “Will you indulge me?”
(He asks to be selfish.)
Without hesitating, you nod.
(And you let him.)
Jing Yuan doesn’t explain himself. He doesn’t need to. Maybe it’s the specific sweetness his scent must take on, or the night air in contrast to the warmth and comfort of his nest, but you understand what he wants and give it to him without so much as a word.
Your lips open a little wider and Jing Yuan slips another finger inside. You stroke your tongue on his fingers as you close your mouth, eyes going dazed and heavy-lidded. You take a deep breath, inhaling his scent into the deepest parts of your lungs. You suck on his fingers gently. 
Jing Yuan watches with still, even breaths.
Later, he will analyze why this scratches so many itches in his brain. Why his post-heat mind feels more calm and sated than he thought possible. Why he wants more of this, always, even if he doesn’t have a name for it yet.
For now, he is so, so content to have you this way. You are lulled back to sleep so easily, sucking on his fingers with your cheek still smushed against his breast. Even as you sleep, Jing Yuan doesn’t remove his fingers. He explores the inside of your mouth with gentle, easy pressure, so as to not wake you. It’s exploratory, more than anything. 
He plays with you in such a way until he’s too drowsy to continue. Satisfied and warm, he drags you under the covers and holds you close, scenting you one last time before letting himself fall into a contented, new kind of sleep.
...
You depart suddenly, while Jing Yuan is in the kitchen deftly chopping fruits and assembling little parfaits. 
You had been in his bathroom, freshening up with whatever products you’d like from his stash. Jing Yuan had left you your own robe for when you exited, quietly beaming that he’d have yet another article with your scent on it.
However, when you do leave the bathroom, you are fully dressed in the day clothes you arrived in a week ago. You stand at the doorway of his kitchen, pausing, wide-eyed.
“I n-need to go,” Your voice wavers, like you’re going to be ill.
Something squeezes in between Jing Yuan’s ribs. There are thin, transparent patches on your neck on either side. Scent blockers. Your eyes look watery. Jing Yuan immediately sets down the knife he had been working with.
“Is everything alright?” asks Jing Yuan. He knows something is wrong, even if he can’t smell you, you’re clearly distressed and disheveled.
“It’s— it’s nothing. It’ll be okay.” You tell him. Your voice trembles and you shake your head. 
“Are you sure? I can help.”
“It’s— it’s really nothing. I need to leave. I-I’m really sorry.”
You look from him to the foyer that leads to his front door and back again. There’s a desperate look in your eye that Jing Yuan has never seen with such an intensity before. It makes his heart ache and his hands feel clammy. He sighs.
(And a quiet, ever-present voice in his mind says, “they all leave, eventually.”)
“Alright.” Jing Yuan gives you a smile, the best he can muster. He knows it must be sadder than intended, as your expression falls and you look like you’ve been punched. 
“I’m so s-sorry.”
“It’s alright,” It isn’t. Not fully. “Handle whatever it is that you must. I’m only a call away. If you need anything, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”
“Okay.” You take a shaking breath and shudder out the exhale. You’re trying not to cry and it takes everything in Jing Yuan’s being not to rush to you and attempt to mend whatever is causing you distress but—
(He can’t. He can’t do that. You have asked him to leave you be and Jing Yuan has spent his entire life honing his ability not to chase, even when he so, so badly wishes to.)
You give him one final, fleeting look, “Thank you. I— I’ll see you at our next lunch, okay? I’m sorry.”
It looks like there’s more you want to say, but you’re already out the door before you can. Jing Yuan hears it open and shut with a soft thud that vibrates throughout his home. It leaves Jing Yuan standing alone in his kitchen, frozen, while the robe he wears slips down his shoulders. He bears your marks, and reeks of your scent. His nest grows colder each minute. And though his heat has ended, the yearning for you has not.
If anything, the feeling is far stronger than it was before.
He latches onto the fact you will have your lunches. That— he will find some clarity then. That he can inspect you for damage during the next sunshine-filled meal you share, and prod to see if the last week and half did not carry the same type of... meaning for you, as it did Jing Yuan. He will need to make sure you’re well. He’ll fret until then, he knows this.
(A more dormant, possessive part of him wishes he snatched you back from his foyer and threw you back into his nest. If something was wrong, he could. If something needed fixing, he could help. If it were anything official for your work, Jing Yuan would pull any and all strings to get you out of the obligation. If you were hurt, Jing Yuan would do anything to see you better.)
Instead, Jing Yuan idles in his kitchen, feeling struck and helpless. Something in him aches, deep and low, and Jing Yuan lays a hand over his chest and squeezes it into a fist. He had thought he had become used to this type of loneliness, but it aches all the same.
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shirefantasies · 5 months
Text
LoTR Characters + Pregnant Reader (Wife!Reader)
Back with more parent AU because it's some of my favorite fluff! Consider this a Part 1 to an anon request that’ll be on its way hehe (also an AU where something happens with Celebrían apparently 😥)
Warnings: conception, pregnancy-related illness and symptoms mentioned, very long post lol
Aragorn
✧ Neither of you had made any concrete plans. No set in stone hour of your marriage reserved for the growth of your family or dubbed too early. Thus, you are unsure how your husband will feel about your news, the fact that you got yourself checked out the first moment of illness, mother's intuition in full service already, it would seem. You cannot keep your smile to yourself, though, as you stroll in search of Aragorn, hand hovering about your own waist as if in disbelief. He had just returned from a hunting trip when you found him, smiling shakily at his amusement when you pulled him immediately aside into the next room over. "What troubles your heart?" The man had intuition of his own, years of silent observation- there was no lying to him. "I just learned that I am with child, Aragorn," you took his hand, seeing no point in being anything but direct, "due for the birth next spring if all goes well." "With blossom comes the next blessing of my kin," your husband replied, that wise look in his blue eyes causing you to shake your head fondly, "what could be more beautiful? What a gift you have given me and how could I ever repay it?" Shaking your head once more, you simply grinned and, sighing with relief and anticipation alike, replied that being the amazing father you know him to be will be all you need. Leaning forward, Aragorn laid his head against yours, brushing your noses as he held you.
✧ Looking out upon the kingdom, the realization that is is his kingdom still sinking in, and that he has made this place a home for new life as well. That this is the very reason he fought for a safe world. It brings such a rush to his heart that he goes off in search of you at once, kissing you warmly and caressing your still-small bump.
✧ Aragorn loves doing anything he possibly can to make your days easier, treating you like the queen you quite literally are! He pampers you with treatment like massages, washing your hair for you, drawing you baths, and the like.
✧ While you no doubt have many people at your disposal, quite similarly your husband enjoys cooking for you by hand and memorizes everything that makes you sick if anything as well as the random foods your cravings make you obsessed with, trying to creatively incorporate them into everything.
✧ You knew it already, but your pregnancy brings about the reminder that this man has such a way with encouraging words, his voice the only thing that cuts through the clouds of your changing moods.
✧ Aragorn is the one who tells you not to be so hard on yourself, that you are doing an amazing thing and you are desirable as yourself, no more and no less. No need to hide yourself, no need to perform, no need to feel anything less than the beautiful soul you have always been. Remember, he tells you, he is going nowhere, and you will endure all together.
Legolas
✧ For so long had you and Legolas hoped for your little life, long enough of trial and hope that you’d all but given up until you felt a shift. Felt on the brink of illness at nearly all times, seeking healing for a mystery illness and leaving with news that had your husband holding you for minutes on end, tears sliding down his cheeks, and refusing to let go of your hand all day. Holding you like you might shatter, his other hand wrapped gently around your waist where his hand can brush the curve of your soon-to-be-growing belly. “We did it, my love. We will finally be three.”
✧ Your husband grows wistful, getting a distant look in his eyes before smiling and reminiscing on his younger days. “What demeanor shall our little one have, do you say? I would not mind having two of you,” he teases, while you say a child like him would be much easier!
✧ “Both of your little ones sound quite healthy.” “Both?” You are shocked, but Legolas’s grin never falters, nor does his surprisingly tight, hearty grip upon your shoulders. “Twins,” he keeps repeating in wonder throughout the day.
✧ You and Legolas have a bet running on the twins, if they are to be identical or not. You think they are both boys, while Legolas thinks he has a little girl waiting for him, too. “Wishful thinking,” you tease him. “Absolutely,” he agrees, smiling softly at you.
✧ As time passes, he does tease you about your waddle. “Shall I slow down a bit?” Cheeky prince, but that’s why you love him!
✧ Legolas’s eyes never fix you with anything but awe. He is simply amazed at all the wonders your body is capable of and what it endures. Even though that wonder also manifests as him almost constantly asking if you are alright, it is worth it when your husband looks at you as though captivated by a goddess.
Boromir
✧ Boromir caught you with your eyes bulging out of your head, not a single chance of delaying your discussion. Such news as you have just received can only be considered a blessing, and yet you still are shaken to the core with the spiking precursor of excitement and hope, hope that your husband would be happy. Your words burst forth the moment he took your hands, asking you whatever was wrong and nodding faster and faster with each step of your detailed medical visit. His smile grew and grew until he could hardly help himself, taking your face in his hands and pulling you into a kiss that more than assuaged your worries. “Why do you look so worried? Such a wonderful blessing was beyond anything I could imagine,” he tells you, a hand reaching to rest gently upon you.
✧ He all but tackles you to bed that night, kissing again and again your lips, your cheeks, and down finally to your belly.
✧ Boromir’s appreciation of your body never ceases your entire wait. His hands always caressing you, his words always sweet upon your ears, especially to cut through the deprecating ones your own lips utter. It baffles your husband that you cannot see how utterly glowing you are.
✧ One hundred percent though will he be teasing you about the odd cravings you get; even as he goes to fetch them he’s making faces, asking if you’re sure, joking about what strange taste the little one has.
✧ You suspect you are carrying a son while Boromir’s guess is a little girl. After you remind him that a mother knows, he rests a hand over your bump and replies with a teasing grin “Why can’t a father know as well?” “Because you do not have to carry him for the better part of a year!”
✧ One of Boromir's favorite things in this world is the sight of how his lent garments fit you tighter and tighter, bringing a twinge to both the loving and the possessive sides of his heart...and his hands to wrap around you or cup your cheeks and pull you into a kiss!
Gimli
✧ His intuition is off the proverbial charts. It is he who first makes any mention of your chances, stating you should not strain yourself in your condition. You are confused, you even protest, but in the end you have your little appointment and your husband has a smug little moment of ‘I told you so’ before the realization of just what he’d been sensing hits him, dropping his jaw and sending his arms flying about you, lifting you up into the air with a hearty laugh. “The mighty line continues! And thanks to such a beautiful lassie no less! You'll want for nothing, I promise you, and no harm'll come to either of you while I yet draw breath."
✧ Has strong opinions about how well you should be eating, so barring you being stricken with sickness Gimli will be making or otherwise providing for you the heartiest of meals, all the things he believes are necessary to raise up a strong little dwarfling. Thank the fortitude and solace of his people, but you are sick very little your entire journey with this and all other little ones you share!
✧ Given the strength of dwarven genetics, you both assume that you are expecting a boy; thus, your husband insists on crafting a tiny axe for him. “For when he’s older, of course!” Gimli assures you, waving his hands defensively.
✧ No worries about your pregnancy weight here- suffice it to say that a dwarf finds the extra pounds quite appealing and has no hesitation about showing you such!
✧ Any exhaustion you feel is the only thing that stops Gimli from taking you around to all his friends and loved ones and likely anyone else who will listen and announce that he has a child on the way!
✧ Nesting is a very strong instinct of his! Gimli builds and crafts by hand all of your baby's furniture and decor, even an adorable mobile of horses, little dwarves with pickaxes, and little effigies of your favorite animal all dangling above his crib! Leaning his head against your belly, he asks the baby "Well, what do you think? Only the finest for my little flame!"
Frodo
✧ Your husband wasn’t sure at first. Not sure if he would feel whole enough after all he endured to bring a life into this world, but you, oh, you… The one who brought life vividly rushing back to his heart, color returning to his life and comfort to his pain. One day a pang struck his heart and he realized it would mean the world if after it all he was able to create life, and more importantly to have something so amazing come of your love. Soon after you both eagerly hoped for the signs, and it took but a few months. Frodo worried you would be sick, but confirmation comes after weeks without your cycle, nothing more. For once, no pain shall come to Frodo Baggins or those he loves.
✧ Your health is his greatest concern, so much so in fact that Frodo has soon befriended practically every midwife in the Shire, melting them with his endearing eagerness to know all he can about your possible afflictions and what you need. His concerns soon gather you the proverbial village of help should you ever send Frodo off for something beyond his breadth.
✧ It breaks Frodo's heart when his nightmares or moments of panic coincide with your own fragile emotions for the first time, for he should be caring for you, not the other way around, but when you hold each other, tears soaking into the opposite shirt, he realizes that what you two have is an understanding and trust strong enough to fortify each other even in darkness.
✧ In case you were not already aware, you are so lucky in your choice of husband! Discussing names soon emerges into your conversation and it almost takes you aback how quickly agreements on a girl and boy name are reached!
✧ The one time during your entire wait for your little one that brings tears to Frodo’s eyes is the day you bring home a bolt of fabric and when he asks what it is for, you answer to make him and your new arrival matching garments.
✧ You catch him smiling widely at you, love glowing in his bright blue eyes as he watches you do even the smallest things, your little waddle or the way you practice folding diaper cloth. All you can imagine is those same eyes fixed upon a babe in his arms, shooting Frodo the same look right back.
Sam
✧ It seemed that every other conversation you shared with your beloved Samwise revolved around babies, so much so that your few still-unmarried friends had grown sick of it. Anyone with a baby in the Shire, though, knew who to look toward for care! You and Sam gushed over little clothes, little hands, went on for goodness-knows-how-long about how much you'd like a little Sam and he wants a miniature version of the loveliest girl he'd ever seen followed of course by you saying why not both? Sam loved life so much, saw beauty in growth and creation and every joy in it, so of course he wanted a big family and all his infectious sunshine on the subject just made you fall in love with him more and more. Months of trying passed, though, before you came to Sam in a daze, before you cupped his precious face in your hands and whispered to him we did it. Before he tackled you to the soft grassy ground and held you, weeping tears of joy and kissing your hands, your cheeks, finally your lips once he'd spoken how much he loved you.
✧ Takes to sleeping a bit lower, his head nuzzled against your torso. In the night you can feel his nose and lips ghosting over it and even hear little whispers when you both can't sleep, but you say nothing, letting Sam have his moments with the little one.
✧ The worry he has about everything the first time around. "Are you sure you can eat that? I don't want you to get sick." "Is that too heavy?" "Don't trouble yourself a mite when I'm right here, I'll bend over for it." "Alright, only if you're certain nothing will happen to the baby, sweetheart." As much as you want to remind him that you are still a fully functional woman, you know that Sam is an action man and this is his way of showing he cares.
✧ The meals he cooks you. You will be eating like a queen all because Sam wants to keep the baby strong, of course! As a bonus, it truly is like he knows what sets you off and avoids those things without even having to ask.
✧ “Imagine all the wee feet running through here,” Sam muses in bed one night, your head tucked in the crook of his neck. “The little hands grasping ours,” you add. “All the little ribbons we can tie in a girl’s hair.” “Taking your little boy out to the garden!” Once again, your friends act positively sick of how sweet you are, but inside anyone can see how deliriously happy you and Sam are and feel warmed by it.
✧ “When the time comes,” Sam always assures you, your hand tightly in his, “I’ll be right here. Wild horses could hardly drag your Sam away.”
Merry
✧ Your reveal is made a bit anticlimactic thanks to your husband’s teasing ways. “You’re knitting.” Glancing down at your work, you simply nod. “Yes.” “You never knit.” Merry’s eyes narrow. “Is it for somebody?” “If you must know,” you set your needles carefully in your lap and tease back, “this is for your child. Any complaints now?” “My child?” Jaw dropping, Merry looks at you like you’d just offered him the whole of Middle Earth. “That’s right,” your voice softens, even cracking a bit with emotion at the sight of his smile, “you’re going to be a father, Merry.”
✧ Merry’s adorable little habit of making you a pillow pile to lay on during your time of the month carries right through to your pregnancy. And of course it continues even when you remind him you’ll not be able to stand up from in because he will be right there to help you up!
✧ Because you've taken up knitting, Merry wheedles with all his charm and love and kisses an additional creation from you: a sweater made from the same yarn as baby's. "You are lucky to be so adorable," you tease him, looking up from your work to kiss his lovely lips. Maybe, you thought, a whole matching set for three would be in order, though…
✧ Another one who teases you, joking about how he is finally able to outrun you!
✧ The type of father to chastise the baby whenever they kick you too hard, lecturing to the front of your dress about hurting your mother and how that simply won’t do, then looking up at you with a humored smile.
✧ Compliments increase at least twofold upon your revelation, Merry never sparing the kindest words about your strength, certainly, but mostly your beauty. Never once during any pregnancy do you feel unloved, unwanted, unattractive, for even when your eyes can find no light within your reflection there your husband is practically worshipping every corner of your form.
Pippin
✧ Desire for a family was something that had drawn you two together as a couple, though you may have found yourself talking Pippin down from ten children! “Maybe start with five,” you would always tease him. So the moment your hypothesis is tested and confirmed, a grin you can’t remove spreads across your face and you run to collect everything for your surprise. Surprise is the only word you can use when Pippin opens his gift and sees the tiny knitted hat you’ve placed inside the box. “What is this for? Little small, is it not?” “If it was for us, perhaps.” It ended up taking you reaching out for his hand and resting it upon your lower belly for the massive grin to spread across his face, but once it does Pippin is laughing loudly and giddily, swinging you back and forth in ecstasy!
✧ Runs to get you whatever your need with barely an question. After all, who is he to say what it's like being with child, and if you want it, you shall have it. Hot water bottle? Certainly. A cup of tea? Of course. Three more pillows? Why, he'll strip your whole bed down. Panics a little if the request is to relieve pain, so prepare to hear a crash or the shuffle of a trip or two before you have the item in hand or on body.
✧ "What is this for?" "What are these?" Lucky you love him, your husband does have many a question of all the supplies you gather for after your new addition is welcomed. "Oh, to keep the hands safe? That makes sense." "Wait, you need to wear that... to catch the bloo- oh, my." He gulps. "I'm going out right now. I'm getting you a cake and some jewelry and some flowers and anything else you'd like."
✧ Can barely keep his hands to himself. Pippin was always the most affectionate husband you could ask for, but now? Now you two are practically a package set and nary can you travel without his arm around you, hand about your waist and gently running up and down over your little growing bump.
✧ Your baby seems to have inherited your husband’s personality, for even before the birth many signs of how active your little one is are present! Those poor ribs of yours will get kicked more than a few times with all the fluttering your little one stirs up inside of you! Pippin, of course, wants to feel it all and luckily he is never far from the scene. If he is, though, you bet he will run!
✧ Pippin is always laying with his cheek resting on your belly, talking to the baby about anything from how his day’s gone to how they have the most amazing and beautiful mother. Your heart can’t help fluttering every time.
Faramir
✧ Faramir has the most uncanny way of reading you like a book, a habit endearing as it is frustrating. Thus the moment he catches you smiling to yourself he is smiling back, approaching you with teasing question of what has you so happy. For once, though, you have the satisfaction of catching your husband off guard, resting your head against his shoulder and a hand upon his chest as you tell him you just cannot wait to see him as a father. "Someday, my love," he takes your hand and kisses it, "if I am so blessed." Giggling, you shake your head against him. "Blessed indeed! Someday shall be this fall," you answer, and peeling back from him you receive another spike of satisfaction at his wide blue eyes, the drop of his jaw and the race of his heart beneath your hand. "Are you certain?" You nod. This time, he takes both of your hands in his and with tears in his eyes thanks the heavens for you even as he shakily laughs, your bright demeanor never failing to put a smile upon his face. "Our child will be so loved." "I know."
✧ Your husband finds himself lost in reverie more and more often, drifting out of reality into some distant, but nowhere near out-of-reach, dream of your family, seeing you as a mother the most beautiful sight he can conjure.
✧ Faramir adores holding you from behind, his hands curled gently over where your bump forms and his head resting gently upon your shoulder, flowing hair tickling your cheeks and neck lightly.
✧ "One for each of us," is Faramir's joke when one of Gondor's finest medics grants you the knowledge that you are not expecting one child, but two. Your husband is there in the storms, the waves of anxiety rolling within you over being there for your twins. "You are not alone," he always reminds you, a hand joined with yours right over the twins' little hearts.
✧ If you wanted a husband who actually does his due diligence learning all he can about growing babies, birth, and postpartum care, then Faramir is another excellent choice! He’ll be spouting off facts about the whole thing ranging from what size the babies currently are to why you might have contractions after giving birth. Your mood determines whether you listen in or tell him to kindly stop.
✧ Just as with you, Faramir’s insecurities sometimes get the better of him, but they also fuel him, bringing a fire you can see to his fair eyes as he speaks with determination how he will love all his children equally.
Eomer
✧ Pride glows upon your countenance as you flit about the kitchen putting the finishing touches on the roast you'd made for dinner. A kingly feast is in order, for not only had you heard your husband performed exceptional drills this day, but you yourself are the host of something exceptional. Eomer and you have been enjoying each other's company much these days, so the news is not so much of a shock as it is a celebration, exuberance at a line enduring, two dreams fulfilled as one, especially for your husband, who speaks often of how he longs for a full, boisterous home. Six if he's lucky. Well, you can hardly wait to help him along, pulling Eomer into your arms for an enthusiastic kiss before he can even toe his boots off, and when he chuckles and asks what has taken hold of his beautiful wife you let your news fly. Shouting for joy with abandon, Eomer lifts you up into his arms bridal-style, kissing your lips again and again. Dinner is all but forgotten as he kneels before you, holding your waist and pressing kisses all over the bodice of your dress and thanking you for making his day, nay, his life, perfect.
✧ Eomer is always proud of you, but the moment he finds out you are with child that feeling swells and positively drips off of him, every outing with him suddenly seeming quite like a chance for him to show you off. An arm around you at all times, a smile of great joy and satisfaction, news shared to all who dare make conversation with you both, and even kisses in public! Eomer is simply on top of the world and not a thing will topple his spirits.
✧ As somebody who never much studied the workings of women, though, Eomer is… a bit out of his depth. You will have to teach him some things like why your emotions swing so or what to look out for to know when your water breaks. This man has been in battle, seen heads roll in the most literal sense, and yet when you describe the eventual passing of your placenta his entire face contorts in a look of horror that has you all but doubled over in laughter.
✧ “You look so beautiful with child,” Eomer purrs, “we’ll have to do this again sometime.” You smack his arm, but cannot resist giggling at the way your husband still gives you butterflies.
✧ Your new addition had not even arrived yet and Eomer is commissioning a child-sized saddle, unable to contain his excitement as he describes all their future rides to you!
✧ As you dream up names, Eomer has many suggestions from the great halls of his own people, ancestors and great warriors alike, but making considerations of your own background is equally important to him, so he is more than willing to go back and forth for the perfect solution.
Eowyn
✧ No one had thought it possible, but they should have known. Impossible was not in Eowyn’s lexicon, and that was exactly why you loved her, one part within many of why you became her wife. And now, the healer confirmed you were carrying her child. …Very well, technically her banner-bearer’s child as the two of you had been forced to get a bit creative, but to have support and help from those who had begun with such uncertainty meant the world. Even Eomer had come around, having offered similarly, but of course you had to remind him that Eowyn wanted a child of her own, not a niece or nephew! Without Guthláf’s, er, donation, you would never bear witness to the broad and beautiful smile on your wife’s face, the tears glistening in the gorgeous blue of her eyes. “A child…” “Our child,” you add, leaning forward until your foreheads touched and noses brushed, a tearful smile upon your own face as your wife gently held your waist.
✧ Having worked so many times as a nurse lends well at least to Eowyn, for she is firm and unrelenting in her urging, nay, forcing, you to rest. No ifs, ands, or buts are to be accepted from your strong-willed beauty, let her dote on you, for she does it with great pleasure. And besides, the harder you fight, the harder she'll work to keep you lain down.
✧ Understanding the pain and symptoms of your time of the month completely also translates; thus Eowyn is ready with remedies for your aches and pains, hot water and herbs awaiting you. She rarely snaps back at your moods, choosing to be silent in the worst of times because she knows. Really, she does.
✧ She cooks for you, and whether you say anything about that or not likely depends on how willing to hide your honesty behind the hormone excuse if it is not taken well.
✧ Reminds you constantly how strong you are. In your lowest of moments, the times you struggle to stand and straighten your aching spine, feeling massive and utterly useless, Eowyn is there to hold your hand and tell you that you are hosting and creating life as she so speaks. You have made the ultimate sacrifice of your body and the greatest of pain to bring just as great a blessing to yourself and your wife. Far from useless, you are divine.
✧ “What does it feel like?” Resting her head on her hand, the one that wasn’t lain against your fluttering belly, she questions you as the baby kicks. “For you?” Part of her wishes to have this experience herself someday, while another takes your descriptions with trepidation. She does not enjoy being restricted, after all.
Haldir
✧ “Lie down, please, my love.” Haldir’s concern with your sickness increased daily as did the pain of seeing you feeling so weak and ill. You tried to push through and for as much as he loved your strength, your husband was not having it this time. Pride was not worth seeing you doubled over again, whether from pain or, arguably worse, illness. You relented in the end, resting and beneath the spinning of your head at the end of the day feeling not a seed of energy to protest an inspection. Healing herbs had you perking up a bit, and perked up you needed to be when the dark-haired, round-faced healer nodded sagely and with a wide smile told you you were with child, and these early days were likely to be the worst. For the first time in days the sobs that escaped you were accompanied by a smile, your face utterly breaking as Haldir held you against his chest, weeping too and thanking you for all you would endure for this blessing.
✧ Physically carries you places as often as he can be spared to do so. Lifts you up bridal-style to move you across your home and sits you up before he feeds you. Your illness brings out a tender, caring side you have never seen in your strong, stoic husband, but it makes your heart swell that much more for him and for the life you two are to have with your child.
✧ Another symptom you experience is the aching and swelling of your feet, but Haldir sits you down facing him and makes the best work of them he can, hands gentle as always as they soothe your skin.
✧ Even in the later months as your illness abates, though, your husband remains protective as ever, standing between you and any potential harm with the fiercest look upon his face and a hand upon your middle, even if the threat is an object you’ve hurt yourself on.
✧ The way shock melts into a wide, ecstatic smile unlike your husband’s typical demeanor when the healer repeats that yes, she could definitely hear two heartbeats beside yours is worth more than any gold in the world. Haldir pulls you into his arms, chuckling deeply. You feel his head shake slightly, slowly, atop yours in wonder.
✧ When you sleep, Haldir will always be holding you close, whether it is an arm draped over your bump loosely if you’re hot or need space or else you fully tucked into your husband’s warm embrace.
Galadriel
✧ Galadriel is actually the one who assuages your worries that your dream will not come true, having full faith in you as much as the magic of this world. And she is right, of course, confidence proven in the aid you receive from a member of her guard and even the way she knows it to be true before the healer even confirms the news. As much as she jokes about seeing a glow around you, the width of her beautiful blue eyes, the shine therein, tells you that your wife is as elated to hear it beyond a shadow of a doubt as you are: you are hosting a little life for you both to nurture.
✧ You being pregnant only aids in her mysterious nature. She can be convening in a council with the wisest of minds from afar and will use you as an excuse to step away at her will. "If you will excuse me. My wife is with child." They are not even aware she is married. Some of them may not understand how it all works, but before they can ask any clarifying questions Galadriel has already slipped away to be with you.
✧ One tendency you unwittingly adopt is falling asleep in the oddest of places, your exhausted body giving out upon its own terms. Always will you wake up draped in one of your wife’s shawls or blankets, however, no matter how odd the spot.
✧ Both of you can hardly resist the allure of tiny garments, smiling every time you see them. It also rings a bell of realization within your minds as you hold a tiny gown up to your midsection. Truly as you speak, there is a tiny body within you! What magic it is to be a woman!
✧ What magic indeed, you later reflect as another pain strikes your back not long after. Hosting tiny bodies came with all the assorted blessings and curses of your kind, one not long without the other. Sighing, you make to approach the chaise across the room and soon your wife is with you, moving its drapes aside and lowering you gently to its cushions, a soothing hand tracing up and down your aching spine.
✧ "I hope she looks like you," you both turn to each other and say simultaneously, mothers' intuition firmly aligned in your hearts, from which so much love for each other pours from, Galadriel immediately drawing you closer to press her lips to the crown of your head.
Arwen
✧ Elrond had been quite hesitant about your relationship with his daughter at first- were you the best choice for her? Could someone like you keep her safe? And how, of course, would she be given the child she so desired? Questions you yourself had posed to her, but she refused to listen, telling you her mind, and heart, were sealed. Little do you know, however, that all of Rivendell would come to love you as their own, see and praise the way you cared for Arwen, and in Lindir’s case even provide the healers with a chance at you giving your wife the family you both yearned for. The moment you tell her the healers’ method worked and she is to he a mother, you both are, her features lighten, taking on the wondrous joy of youth again as she grabs your face, falling onto you with a kiss of pure love.
✧ So accusing if you've overexerted yourself, leaning in closer with a look of sometimes-teasing, sometimes-serious scrutiny. "Surely you did not carry that up the stairs all by yourself, right?"
✧ Do not even bother trying to fake feeling up to anything, whatever the task, for Arwen can see right through you and will insist you sit down, taking your hands in hers. "Rest. You have your burden- let me take the others. My heart bears no ill."
✧ Her affection gets softer, light touches to your waist and hands resting over yours. One hand upon your hip or belly and one on your shoulder as you two sway gently, foreheads pressed together.
✧ Arranging your nursery is one of Arwen's favorite pastimes: painting a gorgeous meadow mural upon the wall, stitching a soft toy to lay within the crib, asking you which fabric you prefer for blankets.
✧ Your bundle of joy can make sleep difficult, but one silver lining Arwen points out in a low whisper one morning is how many sunrises you’ve now gotten to share with each other.
Elrond
✧ Reservations about having a fourth child so long after the others disappeared every time Lord Elrond caught sight of you holding a neighbor’s child or even just showing the loving care that had him convinced he would be well even marrying a second time at all. Every smile, every sweet thing you did, all of it came back to Elrond in a rush when you told him he was to become a father again. For once he did not feel too old, too tired, nothing but the elation of his every desire unfurling to him before his very eyes from your warm embrace. To be chosen as the father to your child was the greatest honor the lord of Rivendell could imagine.
✧ Your every ailment is minimal, for Elrond knows exactly what is best for each and every one. Nausea? The perfect tea blend awaits to calm the waves you feel. Aches and cramps? Your husband is happy to give you the most heavenly massage, his hands finding every needed spot as if by magic. A swell of emotion? He does not speak unless bidden to, simply holding you through sudden waves of tears, frustration, or both until he feels your body relax against his.
✧ Being married to an elf with the gift of foresight comes with the benefit of worries soothed, but also a joke shared between you both. For many a time you teasingly chastise him not to look too far and spoil the surprise of whether you have a son or daughter on the way!
✧ Standing behind you, Elrond rests his hands around your middle and presses a kiss to your cheek. Just when you think the bliss of this moment, of having your whole little new family all together within your husband’s arms, cannot increase is when Elrond shifts his hands, taking on the great weight you carry. Peering up into his soft blue eyes, your whole body deflates in a sigh of sweet relief as he holds you.
✧ He can never truly understand your experience, but Elrond has witnessed this process. All he wishes is to tell you all your pain shall pass, even the worst memories will fade and ease, but such words will sound insensitive, so all he does is continue to hold your hand and stand proudly at your side.
✧ One thing your husband cannot resist is showering your future little one with gifts, even jewelry for when they are a bit older and the tiniest circlet to place upon the beloved head, matching Adar's perfectly.
Want to meet the little ones? Part 2 coming soon 😉
Taglist: @lokilover476 @fuckyoumakeart @kilibaggins @mossthebogwitch @ibabblealot @stormchaser819 @pirate-lord-of-narnia @datglutengoblin @letmelickyoureyeballs @mossyskinn @wordbunch | Message/Reply/Ask to join 🥰
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dadsbongos · 5 months
Note
megumi x airhead fluff please don’t let gege get u again 😔
iehjejeueueh
GASP this has been in my drafts so long and i totally forgot about it, i am sooo sorry nonny :')
761 words no big warnings just fluff n idiots pining, not super proofread
the ghost of gege has been cleansed from my soul!!! ~~~
“Do you really think that?”
Megumi stiffly avoids your gaze, soon after shrugging, “Yeah. What of it?”
You frown, and it could be how attuned he is to your mood but Megumi swears the sudden shift actually overhauls the entire room’s energy. Something morose and slithering around the darkness, somehow the gloominess only thickens in the areas sparsely lit by Megumi’s lamp.
“That’s sad,” you lean up from your sit and onto your knees, fingertips just barely pressing into the springs below, “You’re not a bad person, ‘gumi.”
“I don’t think I’m the devil,” he turns his whole head to avoid your piercing stare, “Just not a good person.”
“That’s sad!” now you’ve flung your hands up on his shoulders, squeezing down his arms as if a heartbroken widow clutching her poor, dead husband, “‘gumi you’re the best guy I know!”
Scrunching away from you, Megumi presses his back into the headboard of his bed, swallowing harshly and continuously dodging your stare, “Yeah, sure.”
“Hey,” you whine, now squishing his hands between yours, “You are! You’re super nice all the time, and you’re way smart.”
The accusation of kindness pulls a little chuckle from Megumi, especially considering how often Yuuji and Nobara curse his nasty attitude. He cannot comprehend why you’d marvel over him this way, or in any other way for that fact. Megumi’s eyes flutter shut, he soaks up the warmth of your hands on his, and your face by his cheek. If he dared lean up, he’d easily be able to kiss you (he’s not so bold, he thinks he’d rather die actually).
“And you’re so pretty,” you tack on, as if you can sense the worst possible thing to say right now.
Though, Megumi knows better -- you’re soft and mellow, his opposite if anything. The knowledge of your earnesty in the compliment does nothing to calm his racing heart, or the raging red slathering his face.
“Whatever…” Megumi sinks down until he’s laid back on his mattress. He sucks in air slowly, boring holes into the ceiling rather than your face, “You’re pretty, too. And you’re nicer than me,” he cringes, “If you’re still sure I’m nice.”
“You are,” you lay beside him, petting a hand over the bunches and wrinkles in his sleep shirt, “You’re being nice now! You let me come over after my nightmare.”
“You sounded scared,” he tries to shrug off the praise, but your words are clinging to his brain stubbornly, “Why would I make you sleep alone after that?”
“Exactly,” you’re bolder than Megumi, bold enough to spike your chin onto his chest, “You’d be a great boyfriend.”
“You don’t say,” he chokes out, heat clogging his cheeks and red burning into a deep crimson. He prays the dim light emitting from his nightstand doesn’t expose the sight to you. 
A melodic knock on Megumi’s door makes the duo flinch, and despite logic telling him nothing is wrong Megumi lets his arm come around your waist protectively. When its Satoru that pokes his head in, the boy grumbles.
“Hey, problem children,” Satoru coos, “if you’re gonna break rules, at least move apart when your teacher comes to scold you.”
“They had a nightmare,” Megumi’s hold on you tightens, “they didn’t wanna be alone.”
“Is that right?” Satoru’s blindfold is still snug around his face, but Megumi can feel his teacher’s stare pointed at where your head lays on his chest.
You nod viciously, “It was so scary! I thought I died for real, so ‘gumi let me stay with him so I don’t have another one.”
“Well how sweet,” Satoru taps the doorframe, “But c’mon, time for everyone to go to their own rooms.”
“Huh, no way!” you cry in protest, rocketing up straight.
“No way,” Megumi parrots.
Raising a brow, Satoru grins at his student’s sudden audacity, “You want me to stay in here with you both, then?”
“You want me to tell Yaga about the secret number in your phone?” Megumi glares, “The one you know by heart.”
Satoru grimaces down at the boy, then sighing and back out of the room, “Don’t do anything to make Yaga yell at me.”
“Wow, ‘gumi, you really got him.”
“He’s easy to wrangle, like training a big, stupid dog,” Megumi feels his heart thundering in his chest the longer you go without saying anything, simply sitting there and grinning at him, “What?”
“You stood up for me.”
“Duh.”
“That was really nice of you.”
He rolls his eyes, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you back onto him, “Yeah, whatever.”
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nicoline1998enilocin · 6 months
Text
Cuddle bug
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PAIRING | Boyfriend!Steve Rogers x Girlfriend!Fem!Reader
WORD COUNT | ~ 900 words
SUMMARY | Steve comes home from a long mission, and all he wants is to be cuddled up in bed with his favorite person. However, your shared secret threatens to be spilled when your good friend walks in the door and finds the two of you in bed together.
RATING | Teen (T)
WARNINGS/TAGS | Established (secret) relationship, use of nickname (Doll).
A/N | This little drabble is written based on a request I received from a sweet Anon! As soon as I saw this prompt, I couldn't resist writing a little something, so I hope you will all enjoy it! This is proofread by the amazing @ccbsrmsf1, for which I'm forever grateful. I love you 🩷
EVENTS Masterlist | @marvel-smash-bingo | Secret relationship Masterlist | @seasonaldelightsbingo | Can't Warm Up Masterlist | @ultimatechrisbingo | "That is America's ass."
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Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: Source
Main Masterlist | Steve Rogers Masterlist
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Steve has been away on an extended mission—three and a half weeks and counting—and you're missing him more than ever. The two of you started dating only a few months ago, though it mainly takes place behind closed doors. You cannot get enough of one another whenever you are alone. Still, when other people are around, it is strictly professional—apart from the occasional reassuring smile you give one another.
Within the Avengers, there is no opposition to team members dating. Still, Steve has specifically asked to keep your relationship a secret because he wants to explore the connection between you two. It is the perfect way to get to know each other personally, and the last few months have been amazing because of that.
Now, you find yourself in your bedroom, curled up in your comfiest armchair with a good book and Alpine beside you. Since Bucky is on the same mission as Steve, you have taken over her care, and she's purring away in her sleep on the windowsill, enjoying the warm spring sun.
Just as you're about to finish your chapter, you hear a knock on your door, and you look up, expecting Natasha or maybe Tony to come by, but when you see who walks in the door, you smile brightly. Steve is back from his mission.
"Hi, Doll. I missed you," he tells you as he walks into the room, and your book lies abandoned in your chair. He's still wearing his suit and the shield on his back, letting you know he came to visit you right away, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach go wild.
"Steve, you're back already! I thought you would be gone for another few days!" Your arms are wrapped around his waist as you plaster yourself against his chest. His heartbeat thumps against your cheek as he gives you soft kisses on the top of your head. His hands rub soothingly over your back as he inhales your sweet scent.
"Mission got wrapped up early, so I figured I'd come home to my girl as soon as possible," Steve says. You lift your head to meet his gaze, warmth spreading through your cheeks as he calls you his girl.
"I love it when you call me your girl; it makes me feel special," you say shyly, and Steve can't help but chuckle.
"I'm glad because I cannot stop calling you that," he tells you before kissing you in a sweet, soft kiss. You two take your time to bask in one another's familiarity, but he pulls away when he can feel a shiver run down your spine.
"I think it's time we had some cuddles, Doll. You're shivering," he whispers, and you nod.
"That sounds good. You know I can't warm up properly with you there," you tell him, and he smiles knowingly. Before you know it, Steve has put down the shield, and his suit is folded neatly on top. As he bends down to put his boots away as well, you happen to glance over, and you're met with the glorious sight of Steve's butt being wrapped perfectly by his light blue boxer briefs, highlighting it beautifully.
"Hmm, so that is America's ass," you say jokingly. You have seen it clothed and bare countless times, but you still can't help saying it. The bright red flush covering Steve's cheeks has you smiling wide, and you can't get enough of the sight.
You have also taken your clothes off, being left in your underwear as you crawl under the covers with Steve. Due to the super soldier serum, his body temperature is always warmer than a regular person's, so he makes a perfect cuddle companion during the nights and colder months.
"Welcome back, Steve. I missed you and your warmth so much," you whisper when you're lying in his arms, your leg thrown over his, his arm wrapped around you, and your head on his chest. The comforter is pulled up to your chin, and you're just about to fall asleep when you hear a few knocks on your door.
"Y/N? I'm here to pick up Alpine!" you hear Bucky's voice carry through the door before he swings it open, and you immediately sit upright in the bed, clutching the comforter to your chest, leaving Steve exposed in the bed in the process.
"B-Bucky, hi!" you say as embarrassment floods your body that you're caught in bed with your boyfriend. Bucky's face turns bright red as he looks at the two of you, his mouth opening and closing without words as he tries to understand what's happening. Without saying another word, he turns around and closes the door behind him, leaving you two to wonder what just happened.
"I should go talk to him, Doll," Steve says as he leans in for a kiss, which you happily give him.
"Okay, but only if you promise to come back soon. I can't miss you for too long again!" you tell him, and he nods with a smile before jumping into his pants. The rest of his suit and his shield are left behind as he runs after Bucky to explain what is going on between you two.
While you were embarrassed at first, you're also a little relieved that you can finally share the love between you two with someone. This is going to be the first step to telling everyone about your relationship, too. It won't be long before you don't have to carry this secret around anymore, and you're looking forward to that day finally being here.
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luimagines · 3 months
Note
Reader confronts the boys about the events of loopy from a poisoned plant.
But everything turns out okay because reader likes them too :)
- glitter ✨
The aftermath of loopey plant? Got it!!
Masterlist
You can read the first part right here!
Content under the cut!
Four
Long day finally over with, you get ready to end it as you crawl into your bed roll.
Four was busy sleeping off the rest of the poisoned pollen and whatever antidote Legend had all but shoved down his throat. You're not sure you're willing to deal with the aftermath but the morning cannot come fast enough.
You lied. The morning came too fast.
You wake up quickly and try to figure out what to do next. You turn in your bed roll and see that Four is already awake.
He sees you before you can pretend to still be sleeping and you curse your luck. Internally, of course. Outwardly, you smile at him and sit up, trying your best to stay causal despite everything he said into your ear the day before.
"Good morning." You grin.
Four winces. "Too loud."
You flinch in return and lower your voice. "Whoops. Sorry."
"It's ok."
"How're you feeling?" You whisper and move to sit next to him. You're suddenly not all that tired. You wait on baited breath to hear his answer and if he's retained any memories from yesterday at all.
Four bite his lip and knocks on his own head gently. His own voice is quiet. "I have a headache but that's about the worst of it. I wasn't too bad yesterday, was I?"
You smile. "You slept most of it off. It wasn't so bad."
He sigh and nods in relief. "Good. I was worried I might have made you uncomfortable."
"Why would you have made me uncomfortable?" You lean forward, trying to keep your smile innocent and less shark like.
Four blushes and looks away. "I have the vague suspicion that I was speaking out loud for a good part of that but I can't seem to tell if I actually did or not."
"Oh." You tilt your head. "That's not so bad. I don't think you were."
"Really?" Four looks back at you, relief flooding his gaze. "Thank goodness."
Your grin turns sharp anyway. "So when do I meet your dad and grandpa?"
Four stills and curls his lips into his mouth. "...Come again?"
"You wanted a summer wedding, right?" You tilt your head. "I was thinking about it and I think you've got the right idea, but I've always my wedding to be outside and the summer might get too hot. So an early summer or late spring wedding might work best if we got that route."
"Oh my god." Four covers his mouth as horror begins to step in.
You giggle and kiss his cheek. "Think about it, yeah? Let me know what you think. I'm not opposed."
".....thanks..."
Wind
Warrior carried Wind back to camp in record time.
Wild returned with Legend, Hyrule and Four and sicked them all onto the groaning and pained boy in front of you.
You tried to stay closer but word spread fast and soon everyone had a hand in helping Wind get back on his feet. Even if that included distracting you in the process.
The day ended before you knew it and everyone was settling in for the night since Wind was now stable and more coherent than he was hour before.
You crept close to the boy and laid nearby, just in case Wind tried calling out to you again. Feeling a little brave, you grabbed onto his hand and let your eyes close shut.
Wind tightened his grip on your hand, calling you name weakly into the air. Your eyes were open in an instant.
"I'm here, Wind." You answer him, crawling a little closer to the boy. you sit up, hoping that the angle would allow him to see you. "I'm here. I never left."
He groans and turns in your direction. "Really? I thought you wouldn't come."
"No." You don't let your voice waver. "I was always there. You just didn't see me."
Wind doesn't seem too convinced but he's also exhausted, no doubt from the treatment everyone had painstakingly shoved down his throat. "I'm tired."
"I know." You smile softly. "It's late. You should sleep."
"What happened?" He asks you instead. "I don't remember what happened after the plant. It was pretty."
"Pretty poisonous." You grit. "Don't go near that thing again. It hurt you really bad."
"Ok." He doesn't fight you on this. "Is that why everything hurts right now?"
"Kinda, yeah." You tell him, because it would be mean to lie. "And everyone freaked out when you were poisoned, so the guys might have been a bit rougher on you than they should have been. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive them."
"They owe me."
You laugh. "Sure, buddy. Sure they do."
"Stay?"
"Of course. I'll be right here when you wake up."
Hyrule
You managed to get Hyrule to the group camp with less damage than you thought would be needed.
Hyrule wasn't helpful in the slightest, but you're thankful to the shadow that has been helping you thus far.
He comes to his senses a few hours later, after you've filled the others in the situation. The Traveler groans loudly and rolls over. "My stomach hurts."
You don't have it in you to feel sorry for him. "Probably because you literally ate the dirt." You shake your head. "Let me get you something to drink; maybe that'll help."
"Thank you." He looks your way but doesn't move from his spot on his bed roll.
You get him some water and mix in some white power Twilight said would help him with any stomach problems. He had a bit of humor to his voice but you're willing to bet that was just because he was holding back laughing at your rendition of the earlier events.
You were a bit dramatic about it but Hyrule doesn't need to know that.
You come back and give it to him with little fanfare and sit nearby. "Here."
"Thanks." He starts to sip it closely. "Why does my everything hurt?"
You smile a little, amused that your little turn of phrases were making their way through the group. "You were literally dragged all the way back here. Not dignifying, but I didn't have many options."
He hums and continues to slowly drink the water. "....That would explain why it feels like I fell down a mountain."
You see the shadow tease Hyrule's hair in the distance. It's subtle but Hyrule visibly relaxes. "What damage did I cause?"
"None." You shake your head again and move to sit closer to him. You can at least pretend that the shadow is you, just so no one asks questions. "Unless you count damage to my psyche from the strange things that came out of your mouth."
"Oh god, don't tell me I confessed." He whines and drowns the last of the glass to avoid eye contact.
".....what?"
"I said it, didn't I? I told you I loved you. Crap. I'm sorry-"
"No." You stop him before he can continue with that train of thought. "...But you did now."
Hyrule freezes.
You're also left staring at him.
The shadow acts quickly and pulls your head down so that your lips touch Hyrule's head. You pull back quickly with a bright blush.
"We'll talk later." You steal the glass away and scurry as fast as you can to busy yourself with something unimportant.
Hyrule will be fine. Right? Right.
Time
You were absolutely correct.
Twilight and Sky had found you and had tease you relentlessly once they managed to pry you away from Time. The Old Man didn't seem to want to let you go.
It would have been a little more humorous if he hadn't looked on the verge of tears at the thought of you leaving him.
You stayed with him, because anything else would have sent the poor man into a panic.
It took a total of two days for the effects of the pollen to calm down and for Time to be restored to his quote unquote, former glory.
Luckily for him, he didn't seem to remember most of it. Only that he kept looking at you in a way that had your chest clenching and your breathing coming out in short bursts of pure emotion.
It was maddening. ...And the boys weren't helping you in the slightest.
You had to clear the air at the first chance you got. You didn't want to continue this strange dance you've found yourself in with the Old Man.
You pulled him aside and were ready to interrogate him when your words died on your tongue. There he went again, looking at you with the most tender and adoring look you had ever seen on a man, let alone him. "...Link. What is it?"
You can't bring yourself to be accusatory. Something about the flower changed him. He's never been this vulnerable on this journey. What had he gone through?
Time raises a hand and runs the back of it on your cheek. "...I thought I lost you."
"Never." You grab his hand, holding it close. "You could never lose me."
"I found myself powerless." He takes in a shaky breath. "Tell me. What changed between us? What did I do?"
"N-nothing." You gulp, feeling your legs go a little weak at the sheer power he carries in his voice. "You called me a flower... and then wouldn't let me go. It was innocent."
Time doesn't seem convinced. But he doesn't have enough in his memory banks to dispute this. "Very well."
"Link?" You hold his hand a little tighter. "....It was the most romantic things anyone has ever said to me. I... should thank you."
"I hardly doubt something said in the midst of confusion and loss of cognitive function would be considered romantic." Time glares at the ground. "I could do much better now that I'm sober."
Your breath hitches in your throat and you decide to get a little brave and reckless. You lean closer and nearly poke your nose with his. "Prove it."
Something ignites in him. A wicked grin blooms on his face. "Are you sure?"
"Yes." You whisper. "Because I would have said the same thing about you."
Wild
You ended up needing to change your shirt.
Wild was apologizing profusely and on the verge of tears afterwards.
Legend was kind enough to help you with the mess and steal one of the Captain's shirts for you to wear while Four and Sky helped Wild get himself situated and settled.
You sighed and fixed the way the clothes clung to you. It highlighted just how skinny Warrior was but you didn't want to think about that when you were more worried about Wild and his current state.
You rushed back quickly. Wild was sniffling and whining like a kicked puppy while Hyrule brushed his hand through the Champion's hair, trying to calm the other boy down.
"How is he?" You whispered as you got closer.
Hyrule looked up at you and cringed. "I'm sure you can guess. He might have ingested some of whatever it was that made him this way. He says his stomach hurts a lot despite not eating anything. I'm inclined to believe him."
You sighed and copied the movements the resident healer performed on your friend. You lean in and kiss Wild's forehead. "I'm sorry, buddy. You'll feel better soon."
Wild looked up at you and swallowed harshly. "Promise?"
"I promise." You smile tensely. You look to Hyrule for confirmation and he looks just as lost as you feel. You repeat yourself anyway. "I promise, Link."
He groans against and curls up tighter. "I'm sorry...'bout your shirt."
"Soap and water exist." You wince, trying to keep your voice light. It was your favorite shirt, but you don't want Wild to feel worse. "Legend is taking care of it."
"Oh... ok."
"You've been very nice and good to me." You whisper. "I don't think I have the capacity to be mad at you. Much less for this. I like you too much, Wild."
"I like you too." He tries to look up at you. "...I didn't like that plant."
"I don't like it either." You agree, if only to make conversation. "Let's not get close to it again, yeah?"
Wild nods and closes his eyes, reveling in the way your hands feel in his hair. "I'm never cutting my hair."
You giggle slightly. "Good. I'd miss it."
He smiles.
Twilight
It had taken many hands to get Twilight to behave enough for him to be treated.
You didn't think he would be as possessive as he was. He growled in ways you didn't think was possible and nearly tried to bite Time.
It was... fascinating, if a little scary.
You watched him and tried to calm him down with the others. Eventually he fell asleep.
Only to wake up less than hour later.
You wanted to yell and scream. He had just calmed down. What mess do you have to deal with now?
"Ow my head..." He sits up in his bed roll and hold his head in his hands. You step closer to him and poke his shoulder. "How're you feeling Rancher?"
"Like I got kicked in the head." He mutters under his breath. "What happened?"
"You got poisoned." You smile softly, gathering that it was more or less safe to be next to him now. "And then hugged me. And smelled my hair. And I think you kissed it."
Twilight had gone completely still in the time that you had begun talking. You noticed but decided to keep going if only to save yourself from blushing at the reminder of his not-quite-kiss.
"You also tried to punch Warrior in the face, bite Time and wrestle Wild." You shrug. "Sounds normal if you ask me."
"I won't." He rubs his forehead. "...Did I do anything else? ....To you?" He adds hesitantly.
You feel just as hesitate but honestly? He wasn't all that bad, if a little too honest. You shake your head. ""No. You were well behaved."
"Thank Ordana."
"I like you too by the way." You blurt and lean closer. "And you don't have to be scared to talk to me, ok? I like talking to you too, Link."
You kiss his cheek, if only because it's fair- implies your traitorous brain. You don't see Twilight short circuit, but you do see Warrior and four give Twilight some thumbs up from their corner of the camp.
"Get better soon, ok Darlin'?" You copy his subtle drawl and watch in gremlin delight at the way he completely flushes red.
"YeAh." He clears his throat, unable to meet your eyes. "I will. I will."
"Good."
Warrior
The loud curse that slips past your lips was enough to get the group to look over to where you were.
Legend and Twilight naturally started laughing at the sight of Warrior face first in the dirt before you called out for help. Wild and Sky responded quickly, helping drag the unconscious young man to the middle of the camp where it was safe.
You instantly started explaining what you say and how he reacted, giving your own ideas about what might have happened without actually being there to witness it.
Time and Four got to making a spot to put his body where he would be comfortable until he slept it off.
You hovered around like an anxious hummingbird. You had all this energy and no where to spend it. Feeling your plight, Hyrule and Wind took it upon themselves to keep you occupied before you started to mother hen the Captain while he was unconscious and unable to defend himself against it.
Thankfully, it didn't take that long for Warrior to wake up- complaining quite loudly that he'd swear off drinking for the rest of his life.
You had the sudden suspicion that it wasn't the first time he had woken up such a manner- even though you knew that there was nothing alcoholic in the vicinity. Still, you decided to commend him for the attempt. "Good. We'd hate to deal with you hung over as it is."
He groaned and rolled over in his bed roll.
No one bothered to correct him in his incorrect assumption that he had been drinking with the boys.
Time had snorted at the claim and at his reaction but there was a subtle wince to his face that you couldn't help catching. Was Time familiar with the feeling as well?
You shake your head and make your way next to Warrior. "Hey."
"Hi." He grumbled, clearly not happy with his current predicament.
"What do you remember?"
Warrior tenses up before he can stop himself. He clearly remembers something but he doesn't to tell you, less you confirm it for him.
You smirk. "Do you remember the kiss?"
He shoots up. "What?!"
Given that you're not entirely sure what going through his head, you're willing to make a bet and let his own mind fill in the blanks for you. Besides, fireside cuddles sounds nice- but if he had something else in mind you don't think you're inclined to turn down that offer either.
You giggle and kiss his nose to tease him further. "There wasn't none but you mentioned it. If you ever want to follow through with what you told, just let me know."
Warrior looked horrified.
"Let me know." You repeat yourself to get through to him. "Ok?"
His voice is small and disbelieving but he nods slowly. "...ok."
Legend
It took a while for Legend to cooperate enough for you to bring him back to camp and get him checked up on. He wouldn't stop going on and on about how you were one of nicest people he's ever met and that he never wanted to leave you and the thought of leaving you made him sad-
Honestly, you had to tune him out for the most part. If you continued to listen to him talking and rambling you would have probably started crying. You never would have guessed that Legend was incredibly sentimental underneath it all.
You had to leave him to the care of the other boys while you went to collect yourself off beyond the forest line.
With time, when you no longer felt all mushy and soft for the boy had to grow up way too fast just to survive, you made your way back to the camp where Legend was looking properly hung over.
He groaned and maybe vomited a little given the looks Wild and Four were giving him as Time cleaned his face. You're a little ashamed that you more or less ran away from him but you doubt he would have wanted you to see him like that anyway. Right?
Eventually, you gather up the courage to get close to Legend and sit next to him where he would actually notice you. He sees you and rubs his face. "I was told you brought me back."
"Yeah." You admit quietly. "I found you first."
"I already told everyone to stay away from that stupid flower."
You pale slightly. In your attempt to rid yourself of the embarrassment, you had completely forgotten about the plant that got Legend into this mess to begin with. "Oh. Good."
Legend nods and rubs his head a bit. Warrior steps in to give the Vet a glass of water. He drinks is greedily.
"Do you still want to braid my hair?"
Legend chokes.
You bite your lip. "I wouldn't mind it."
He looks at you with a scarlet face and with wide, almost scared eyes. "Oh my god, what did I tell you?"
"I lot of things," that you don't think you have the strength to go into right now. "But it's really not that bad."
Legend smiles, but it's not like he believes you.
You'll just have to prove it to him.
Sky
After you successfully managed to drag Sky throughout the unmarked trail back to the camp, you started barking out order to the boys to help him. They rushed to put their hands to work.
Hyrule first went about healing any injuries he may (read: absolutely) have obtained.
Four and Warrior went about making a tonic to help rid the pollen slash poison out of his system while you went to clean yourself off and pretend everything Sky said to you didn't actually happen.
When you returned feeling better about yourself and the current mess, you found that the boys had managed to corral the chaos of the camp as well. Sky was stable and dinner was already over the fire. It would be ready in a matter of minutes.
Luckily, Sky didn't stay asleep for long and soon it was as if nothing had ever happened.
But you decided that you still needed to get some answer out of the boy.
The following morning, after everyone's morning routines were done and over with, you found yourself guiding Sky away from everyone else just to see how much of yesterday he actually remembered.
He seemed unable to meet your eyes.
"Good morning." You bump your hip against him. He nearly falls over but catches himself. Sky's blushing. "Good morning."
"Sleep alright?"
"As good as I could given the pollen from that weird flower." Sky scratches the back of his neck.
"Oh perfect, you brought it up first. I was going to ask you about that."
Sky blushes harder. "Yeeaaah? What about it?"
"What do you remember? Do you remember what you told me?" You tilt your head, not bothering to acknowledge how awkward he no doubt feels. You feel a little vindicated since he made you drag his dead weight all the way back to camp on your own.
Sky looks away.
That's all the answer you need.
"Did you mean it? Truly?" Hope enters your voice before you can stop it. Sky catches it because of course he does.
"Yes. I did." He mutters. "I also recall that you said... you said that I was pretty too."
"You are!" You kiss his cheek, taking your shot. "Ok?"
"More than ok." Sky takes your hand softly, lacing your fingers together. "....Do you really think I'm the good child?"
"....you're one of the best ones here."
"I broke a chandelier on purpose to get an item."
"....my statement still stands, honey. But I'll remember that."
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elsweetheart · 1 year
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synopsis: ellie and her failed lab experiment bestie navigate her first ever heat.
♪ lana del rey, the weeknd — stargirl interlude ♪
cw: whew, this is gonna be a lot. fem reader, reader is a failed lab experiment which gives her cat like appearance in a few ways (ears, tail, claws etc) not furry porn, reader is mentioned to be 20 purely just for detail purposes but you can just change to whatever in your head idk, readers tail touches ellie in the night without knowing really lol, smut / strap on sex / foreplay / dry humping, overstimulation, small blood kink feature but nothing crazy at all, reader is just crazy and horny and primal, cockwarming. lmk if i missed any !
an: alrighty, here it is. i cannot stress this enough — if this isn’t your kind of thing, please just don’t read it. i won’t be offended if you don’t, i just don’t wanna hear any bs in my inbox please! this was experimental and i don’t even know if i like this fic or not so please be gentle. to the people who have been so sweet and encouraging throughout my up and downs of writing this, thank you and i love you! as usual, minors and ageless blogs do not interact you aren’t welcome here. enjoy! 🐈‍⬛ 🤍
WINTER
Spring would be here soon. That was all you could think of, a dull anxiety thrumming in the pit of your stomach at the thought. You stared at the solitary bright yellow flower peeking through its blanket of snow, the downfall of ice from the blizzard outside the window beating it mercilessly against the wind— and yet it stood, continuing to pop back up, almost like it was taunting you. You wished you could love spring. The thing about seasons changing was that they happened without permission and whether you liked it or not. Truthfully, you loved the idea of flowers and dresses and warmth on your skin, but it made it all the more difficult to hide the…elements of you that people wouldn’t understand. You weren’t talking about scars, or hair or bumps, no. You were talking about —
“What’cha lookin’ at.” The mellow voice of your best friend Ellie Williams broke you out of your thoughts, traipsing up behind you to sit with you on the window seat, tucked into an alcove below rotting bay windows in the abandoned house the two of you were holed up in on patrol, whilst the blizzard outside came down hard. She gets comfortable, drawing her knees up as she leant against the chipped paint, accommodating to make more room for you. Your head snapped towards her, towards her grey hoodie that — wasn’t you wearing that last night? shutup, and her khaki green jacket zipped up over it, jeans and Converse and messy bun tucked into the nape of her neck. Pretty. Always pretty. Always just a friend you couldn’t touch. Not how you wanted to, anyway.
“Nothing? Just watching the snow fall.” You sigh out wistfully, knowing you’d both rather be in bed on this early, freezing cold morning.
“Yeah? Y’looked worried about something.” She rasps, toeing you with the dirtied white tip of her maroon chucks and tilting her head. You dart your eyes back to the yellow flower springing up to see it finally get pummelled down by a huge globe of powdery snow. Hah.
“Just scared the snow will cover up the door and lock us in here.” You nibble your lip, tugging your pink wooly hat tighter over your head, ensuring it was still in place. She shook her head, casually, and her blasé attitude to most things often eased any anxieties that dwelled within you.
“There’s a smashed window in one of the rooms I checked, can climb out if we need to. S’why it’s so fuckin’ freezing in here.” She rubbed her arms in tribute to this statement, puffing out her cheeks for a moment. “You not cold?”
“Oh, I’m cold.” You flit your eyes over her with faux judgement. “Just not being a baby about it.” She huffs out a laugh, folding her arms.
“Fuck you, dude.”
Dude. You roll your eyes. Always dude, but ‘baby’ in your late night daydreams. You scrub the thought away.
An hour passes, and the snow is still coming down hard. 8:54AM.
“Okay, I’m sorry — what do you mean you’ve never played truth or dare before. Have you like, never met someone your age?” She’s smirking, always relishing in your lack of general knowledge because honestly, it made her feel like she had more to offer and teach you. You’re drawing a palm tree on the window’s condensation, the tropical sight doing nothing to mask the dreary weather outside of it.
“Okay first of all, we aren’t the same age — you’re twenty-two. That’s a few more years of experience to learn stuff that I haven’t.”
“And how old are you again? Eighteen?” She pretends to think.
“Twenty. And you knew that, idiot.”
She snickers, muttering a teasing “Baby face.” under her breath, drawing a comical penis shape with her finger beside your palm tree making you tsk and swat her away.
“Secondly, no— my old camp were all like, old people. I was the youngest there. Didn’t have anyone to teach me any of your weird games.”
It took you about twelve years of your life to realise that normal preteen girls didn’t have pointed ears atop their head, or a tail, or retractable claws and fangs. You knew you were different, yes. No one else in your small camp had features quite like yours, and you really knew you were different because you spent your life in hiding. Under protection. Ears shoved under hats and tail bunched beneath tight jeans. Hence, you know — the fear of warmer weather approaching.
You didn’t quite know where you came from and you were okay with that. Whispers between the couple that raised you, talks of your real dad being a scientist before this all went down which explains things… enough. You didn’t really want to know how you ended up this way, because it couldn’t have been good — or ethical for you to grow up part girl part animal.
19 years old, and you had moved into Jackson. Found at the gate. No more camp. No more found family. Just a girl who survived, stood in the snow. You’d met Ellie, a friend of Jesse who’d found you — and the two of you had hit it off instantly, as friends of course. Ellie liked how different you are to her, pretty naive with lots to learn in comparison to her hard edges and weathered attitude. When you weren’t biting back playfully at her sarcasm you were the ray of sunshine she’d needed in the snow globe that she lived in. She’d even stepped up to take you with her on patrol and ease you into learning how to fend for yourself a little, a skill you never acquired with your old group. That brings you here, sat on a window seat, trapped by a blizzard, doing very little learning. Okay, back to you Ellie.
“Truth or dare is not weird, I swear. Look, we can play it. Pass the time whilst we wait for the blizzard to chill out. You in?”
“Okay.”
“So,” She crosses her legs now. “You can pick, truth or dare. If you don’t answer your truth, I get to pick a dare. And uh, vice versa. Yeah. It’s simple.”
You nod, and she continues — rambling in typical Ellie style.
“Like, okay. Truth or dare?”
“Dare!” You grin happily.
“Alright, I dare you to run into the blizzard naked.”
“Uh — truth! Truth!” You change your answer, making her laugh.
“Alright… tell me about your first kiss.” She’s giddy, on the precipice of a laugh, dying to make fun of whatever story you come out with and you falter, dragging your eyes back to the window. The palm tree you drew in the condensation is starting to drip and create long clear lines down the window.
“I already told you, never met people around my age so… haven’t had one.” You shrug, peeling a bit of old paint off the windowsill. You glance up and she’s nodding with her lips turned down, trying really hard not to look judgy because she wasn’t, she swears and she didn’t want you to feel bad. She tucked away the thought that she found it cute. Found you cute. The thought of being your first kiss flashed through her mind as quickly as she erased it.
“Alright. No shame in the game. We’ll get you there.” She pats your foot reassuringly and you tense up in embarrassment slightly, a claw spiking through the knit of your glove making you close your palm into a fist on your lap. Ellie had heaps of experience, which kind of made your confession more embarrassing.
“Your turn. Truth or dare?”
“Truth.” Her answer is almost instant.
“Boring.” You giggle.
“Whatever.”
You sigh… eyes wandering around the room, over the dusty canvases on the wall with paintings of mountains, perhaps the very mountains that surrounded your town— you couldn’t tell. What could you ask her? What did you actually want to know? What didn’t you already know? You bite your lip, eyes flickering around.
“Take your time.” She raises an eyebrow and you huff at her impatience.
“Okay, tell me something you’ve never told anyone else before. A secret that’ll literally bind us for life.” Your eyes twinkle and now it’s her turn to falter. She doesn’t want to glance at her covered arm, but she does anyway. Not that you’d ever be able to guess her big secret. No one could, you probably wouldn’t even believe her.
“Good question, see you’re getting the hang of it.” She raises her eyebrows, impressed and you bask in the sound of the icy winds outside, head slowly tilting to the side as you watch her grow a little uneasy. Ellie Williams, your best friend had a big secret. And you knew all of her secrets, so you were doubly intrigued. You knew about the time her and Dina got too drunk and kissed before practically yelling at eachother that it felt too wrong and they’d never do it again, you knew about the time she didn’t wanna trade any items at the little store for food so she selfishly shoved a can of tomato soup in her pocket and ducked out, knew all the rest of them because you remember her drunkenly shoving her hand over your giggling mouth and whispering “You actually can’t tell anyone, okay? Shit, why do I tell you these things?”
“Okay. I’m immune.”
“To being slapped? Answer my truth or face your forfeit.” You were grinning ear to ear, like she thought you would and — she nearly wanted to just leave it there. Let you believe she was joking. But oh, your perceptive self. You saw the falter of her bashful expression, the way honesty coloured her face and for once she couldn’t make eye contact. Surely not? “Immune?” You repeat, more like a statement but you’re confused nonetheless.
“Uh, yeah.” There’s no humour in her tone and yet you’re still smiling, waiting on her still to smirk or chuckle or something. When you just stare at her, she starts to undo her jacket. “I can uh, I can kind of prove it, I guess?” She pushes her hoodie sleeve up, and you’re faced with the tattoo you’ve stared at many times before. The pink pad of her finger traces along the inside of her arm, and your eyes focus — honing in on the faint scar curtained behind the dark blue ink. “There… was a bite here. Me and my friend were together when we were kids and we both got bit. She turned and… yeah, guess I’m still waiting.” Her eyes were distant, and yeah — Ellie played jokes on you sometimes. You were gullible and naive, not having faced the usual prankish behaviour of people similar in age to you before but this? She wasn’t that great of an actor. There was actual, real life pain behind her avoidant gaze.
“You’re serious?” You furrow your brows and she purses her lips, a pinkie-finger of gesture held in the air.
“Swear.”
You stare at her arm, and she reaches for her jacket again — feeling the chill of the house again despite an uncertain heat creeping up her neck. “How do you know it wasn’t just a one off?”
She shrugs. “Guess we’ll know if I get bitten again.” She chuckles dismissively. You go to speak, tell her how life changing her secret was but she’s quicker. “Alright, your turn. Now I’ve told you something no one else knows you gotta do the same. Biggest secret, go.” She exhales, and it feels like the room is alleviated of some of the pressure.
“Excuse me, what if I wanted to pick dare?”
“Do you?”
“No.”
“Well then.”
Your ears twitched and you brought your knees to your chin. Ellie was just so vulnerable with you, but you’d always been told — under every single circumstance not to tell anyone about your…rarity. It was something that not even you understood, so sharing it with others could put you in danger. People often lashed out at what they didn’t understand, you were told it was that way in the old world too— though you’re sure people weren’t quite dealing with being a hybrid with a literal animal.
“I’m not sure you’re ready for my secret.”
“Dude, I just fucking told you I can’t get infected, you’re not gonna top that.” She exasperated, prodding your leg with her knuckles. She didn’t beat around the bush with her secret, or make you beg for the reveal — so you figured you’d cut straight to the chase. You pulled your hat off your head, ears standing to attention — hearing just that tiny bit clearer. Ellie raised an eyebrow, not sure what she was looking at, about to make some kind of comment like ‘Uh, your secret is that you have hair?’ — until her eyes darted up and stayed there. You pulled off your gloves too and held your hand between the two of you, sharp claws extending. Ellie jumped, and you pulled back shamefully.
“What is… what am I… what am I looking at?” She gawked breathlessly, eyes widening at the way your ears twitched shyly, the outside of them coated by fur the same colour as your hair, the inside of your ears pink, sprouting wispy white hair from it. Ellie could barely keep her mouth closed.
“Yeah, so… I’m like a girl who is also a cat who is also just a girl— nothing weird I swear — apparently my dad was a scientist and he made some fucked up combination DNA and — ah, it doesn’t matter. I’m a freak. Laugh it up.” You ramble, waving your hand in a way you hoped was dismissive and in that moment a gun to your head wouldn’t have made you make eye contact with the auburn haired friend parallel to you.
“Hey, wait — I’m just trying to… holy shit?” She furrows her brows before chuckling. “I feel like I’m having a weird ass dream right now, dude.”
You reach for your hat to shove it back on, and her heavy hand lays on top of yours. She watched the way your ears flattened like aeroplane wings and you frowned a little. “I’m sorry… I’m not laughing at you. That’s… fucking awesome. You’re like a comic book character, man.”
Your eyes lifted from her hand, heart thundering in your chest both from her reaction to your big reveal and her hand laying on yours. “So, a freak.” You go to move your hand but she grips it.
“No, just… cool… don’t… put your hat back on yet. I’ve got questions.”
A pause sat between the two of you, and she broke out into a smile again. “Fuck you, your thing totally beats my thing.”
“Thats not a question, Els.”
11:20AM
“So does this mean you’re immune too? Pretty sure animals can’t get infected.”
The window had fogged over completely now, view of beyond the window obstructed but you didn’t mind. It felt more enclosed, in a good way. The outside world didn’t exist anymore.
“I’m not fully an animal though. Don’t wanna risk finding out.”
She sat back, looking at you incredulously. Not like you were a spectacle, or a circus performer from the old world — but like you were something magnificent. Like a unicorn, or a fairy.
“This is gonna… take me some time to get used to. You sure you’re not fuckin’ with me?” She turns her head suspiciously.
“Oh I’m pretty sure. Had to live my whole life with cat ears and a tail, would be a awfully sick prank.” You huff, focusing your attention on scraping off the shimmery pink nail polish you had acquired on a previous patrol. You’d painted them to distract from the subtle claw-like appearance they had even when they weren’t extended.
“You have a tail? Show me.”
“Oh yeah, I’ll just pull down my pants.”
“Oh shit, yeah. My bad.”
You sat together, and you shifted under her gaze, palms itching to pull your hat back over your ears, shielding yourself from her prying gaze. This was… out of your comfort zone. You trusted Ellie with your life, sure. But this was a lot. You’d been hiding this element to your self your whole life and suddenly you’re practically hollering it from the mountain tops all because you were enticed to share a secret during a silly little game? Who else would you tell just because they’d given you positive attention?
“You wanna touch my ears?” You blurt out. What the fuck?
Ellie’s smile grew, telling you her answer and it was too late to take it back now. She slid her ass forward a little, knees pressing directly against yours now and lifted her hand slowly, carefully, almost as though you’d spook like a real cat if she moved too quickly. You seemed to blink, and then she was right there, her face so close to yours that her warm breath fanned over your face making your eyelashes tickle at the breeze she created. She clears her throat, eyes just floating up above your hairline and you feel the pads of her fingers gently trail down the backs of your ears.
She lets her knuckles gently smooth back the velvety fur coating, before getting more comfortable — short blunt nails scratching right in that sweet spot behind them. With the ball of her hand gently pressed to your temple as she scratched, you melted. The best way to describe it would be the feeling of sinking into a hot bath after being out in the cold wind, rain and snow. A sheet of goosebumps lined up across your arms and up your spine, your tail struggling in your jeans to curl up in pleasure. There was a gentle humming sound, like an engine maybe… a low rickety wind passing through a wooden floor board…
“Are you purring?” She cooed, and your eyes fluttered open. You don’t even remember closing them. The ghost of an alarmed bullet shot through your body but it just… felt too nice to react. Your pupils were dilated to fuck, it was almost startling to see.
“I guess.” You chuckle, a shudder flying through you, the warm purring sound continuing on. “Sorry.” You offer, but it’s half hearted.
“No, don’t.” She whispers with an impressed smile, eyes pinned by your intense gaze — voice gentle, as if not wanting to break the intimate force field she’d created around the two of you. “You’re so… cute.” She grins enough to show her teeth now, you rest the weight of your head more into her hand, pushing for more scratches now that her fingers slowed down, distracted. Your eyes flutter closed, sleepy and euphoric— and then open once more, a constant battle between wanting to just melt away, and also wanting to look at Ellies beautiful face so close up. She seemed to get closer each time you opened them, eyes drifting from your blackened gaze… to your lips…
Maria’s voice was the last thing you expected to hear in that moment and you both jumped. It was static-y, buzzing, making your head snap towards the radio Ellie had let clatter to the floor beneath the window seat. “Blizzards gone and cleared up now, two of you can start headin’ back now before it decides to pick up again.”
You swipe at the fogged window creating a viewing hole through the condensation, snow settling now instead of batting down hard against the ground. You sigh out, and you’re not sure if it’s in relief of the weather clearing up or the tension breaking — but Ellie seems to be shaking herself out of it too.
“Alright, uh — y’ready to head back out there kitty-cat?” She’s back to her usual self, hopping off the window seat and scooping her backpack and radio off the ground, securing them back onto her person.
“Ready as ever. Can’t wait to go home and nap.” You stretch, now standing beside her waiting for instruction. She sways in your direction with a smirk, raising a brow.
“A cat nap?”
“Are you gonna do this from now on?” You hide your amusement, leaning on your hip. She chuckled to herself, pulling her gloves back on before nodding her head for you to follow — taking off in a casual stride.
“Sorry. Let’s go get Shimmer from the garage.”
You pout, padding along behind her as you think of her stood there alone. “I hope she wasn’t too cold. She was shut in there for ages.”
“She’ll be fine. Old girl’s a trooper.”
SPRING
You didn’t regret telling Ellie, infact you were so glad.
It seemed to have brought you closer, the two of you against the world. The weather had finally cleared of snow by mid April, the green returning to all of nature. She’d helped you accommodate, coming to your home in the mornings and helping you pin your ears down to your head, gently manoeuvring your hair to sit on top of them, inconspicuous. Asking you “Does that hurt?” and “Can you hear?” in a sleepy morning voice. You, on the other hand would sit there trying not to pur at her touch. There was still some bite in the air, especially around evening time so you could still get away with stuffing your tail into your jeans, but the two of you often walked around in the sunshine on the days one or both of you weren’t outside the gate on patrol. Nights were spent having sleepovers, falling asleep cuddling because you know — it was convenient and cold at night time, especially convenient if you were getting up early for a patrol together. Definitely not because you wanted to spend every waking moment together.
You had been curled up reading, relaxed, ready to head to bed in an hour or so when there was a knock at your door. Your ears perked up, and you scuttled out of bed and looked through your peep hole, relieved to find the wind bitten, pink cheeked face of your best friend. You figured she’d just gotten back from patrol, swaddled in a khaki green windbreaker and jeans, hair in your favourite style — half up half down. You swing the door open, ushering her in.
She doesn’t mean to ogle you, but it happens anyway — eyes drawn to your bushy tail shyly curling round your thigh, a hole cut in the back of your pyjama shorts specifically for that reason when you turned around. “Hey you, couldn’t be bothered to walk all the way back to my house. Plus, I got somethin’ to show you.” She wiggles her brows, heading to your room.
“Y’want a drink?” You call after her to which she promptly replies with “Please!” already disappearing into the warm comfort that was your bedroom. Your bedroom, a God damn hassle for Ellie to construct. You had… a vision, and that vision became Ellie’s problem when you’d started to build your little home space. “Els if you see any pink blankets on your patrol today please please please grab me one?” “Ellieeee I need a picture frame, like — a cute one.” “If I don’t get a fluffy throw cushion for my bed soon, I might die.” The list goes on. Her patrols were ever-filled with heavy backpacks, trinkets carefully balanced on top of eachother or stuffed into pockets. She smiles warmly at the memory, walking around your room — taking in each item along with its memory of finding it and smuggling it back into Jackson. Her eyes are glazing over your bed sheets now, thinking about you curled up in the you-spaced shape you’d left on the blankets, thinking about you fast asleep in the night beautiful as ever, thinking about you writhing on them with less clothes on — gross, Ellie — shake it off.
A matted tuft of darkened hair peeped from your mass of bed covers and Ellie squinted, bending over to get a closer look before pinching it with her fingers and lifting it. A clump of hair sat in her palm and she raised her eyebrows. Was that a —
“What you lookin’ at?” Your voice is sudden, lighthearted, right behind her— and she jumps, turning her head over her shoulder to glance at you guiltily. You stand wide eyed and innocent, a glass of water for her clutched in your hand.
“Jesus, fuck — we gonna have to get you a collar with a bell on it or what?” She rolls her eyes, clutching her chest before recovering, taking her glass and sipping as she holds up her findings. For a moment, something twitches in you down below at the thought of wearing a bell around your neck for Ellie. The feeling is warm and homely and disgustingly horny and you feel a little shame. She swallows her water an ‘ah’ and explains “Was just uh— I found a fur ball.”
You look at the clump of hair in her hand, then up at her, then back to the clump — and then you’re moving past her. You straighten out your blankets, revealing a hair brush and hold it up— plucking the ‘hairball’ from her hand and grasping it side by side. “From my hairbrush… doofus.”
Ellie makes an ‘o’ shape with her mouth and chuckles, scratching her arm awkwardly after placing down her glass — feeling maybe she’d jumped to a conclusion. This feeling is unfortunately confirmed when she sees your brows furrow, softening in stature ever so slightly.
“Do you really think I’m like… dirty and animalistic? I don’t get fur balls, Ellie.” You sound defeated and just a smidgen whiny, but she’s a sucker for it and grasps your arms gently either side with two strong hands.
“No! I’m an idiot! I’m sorry. Total jackass.” She reassures and you tilt your head, pout turning into a gentle smile. This gives her the green light to move things along. “However, I did get you a little something that might help us understand your… condition a little better.” The auburn haired girl is already shucking off her black beaten up backpack, struggling with the zip for a moment before sliding out a thick hard back book, a manual of some kind. Her eyes are on you, searching for any sign of offence and you catch the title when she spins it around proudly — ‘Caring for your kitty’.
She’s off like a race car with an excited explanation before you even get the chance to breathe, opening it up and flicking through it. “Stopped at that old library today, you know the one we thought the entrance was blocked off and we couldn’t go inside? Well — Jesse found another way in — so I was just lookin’ around, seeing if there was anything interesting and I found this bad boy. It tells you everything you need to know about caring for a cat and well… don’t wanna be a dick but… I’m caring for a cat, kind of.”
As she spoke, your grin only widened — pathetically, and totally embarrassingly so, because it was going against everything you had taught your self. You’d wanted to push this side of you down for what, your whole life? And then Ellie comes along, with her pretty green eyes and her tattoo and her hand veins and her — whatever, and suddenly you’re completely and utterly embracing the fact you’re like, absolutely fucked up, genetically? Crushing on your best friend makes you do crazy, stupid things. You bat your eyelashes at her, regardless.
“You care for me?” It was kind of a joke, but your voice came out softly anyway and Ellie couldn’t look at you because of it, continuing to thumb through the pages, very concentrated, what was that one page again?
“Why’d you think I brought this big ass manual back? Wanna look after you.” She mutters. You soften completely, and she realises that she said that out loud. You look at her, and she looks at you — and then she looks away because God damn, she’s falling in love. “Anyways. Thought we could go through it together. You got those sweatpants I left here? My jeans are like, damp.” She rambles, and you let it slide — though you’re positively floating when you point her to your dresser, pressing the neatly folded grey pants into her arms with a hazed out smile. “Thanks.”
You turn around when she changes. You’re not sure why, she’s wearing boxers — and you have some skirts stashed away that are probably shorter and more revealing (which you unfortunately couldn’t wear due to having a tail) but you look away anyways, out of respect. You clamber back onto your bed waiting for her, and soon she’s sliding up beside you in just her black tshirt and sweatpants, comfy and warm. Ellie clears her throat, sitting up against the headboard and opens the manual for the two of you to check out. “Ahem, caring for your kitty. With special thanks to Juliana.” She reads formally and you giggle, scooching closer until your cheek is pressed to her arm so that you could see the book. “Shout out to Juliana.” She comments, flipping the page.
You snuggle in closer to her, because well — it feels natural. The two of you had always been affectionate since becoming friends and since you’d shared your secrets it had only become more binding. When Joel had comment that you two were literally attached at the hip, it was by no exaggeration. The fat of your cheek pushed up enough to shut one eye as you practically tried to merge with her bicep, warm breath tickling her light arm hair.
“Y’always smell like oatmeal.” You comment, voice sleepy from her warmth and she’d barely even gotten the chance to read anything yet.
Her hand freezes on the page for a millisecond as she acknowledges your statement. “So— wait, oatmeal? That’s gross dude. I don’t wanna smell like oatmeal.” She complains, causing you to lift your head having busted out into a giggle fit. She lifts her hand and sniffs it, looking at you with a displeased expression trying to decipher your observation.
“No! It’s a good thing I like it. It’s just… Ellie smell.” You rub your eye tiredly and she’s fighting every urge not to kiss all over your cheeks at how God damn adorable you are.
“Oatmeal. Great.” She chuckles, shaking her head before nudging you with her elbow — a silent command for you to lay back down on her so that she could read.
And the two of you did, for a little while anyway. The manual was more helpful than the both of you had originally thought, and you came to realise that you had a lot more in common with the animal than you’d had believed. Between each paragraph, the two of you would launch off into conversations and comparisons, Ellie asking you questions about your behaviours and habits. It made your heart swell at how much she truly cared. “Kitten will feel attached to her owner when being scratched behind the ears.” Ellie reads out monotonously, thinking, before reaching up and scratching behind your ears. “To say I’m your owner would be a little crazy, I must admit. Can’t deny you some good old scratches though.” She chides in amusement, watching your happy smile melt into a dozed pur. You can own me, Ellie — God you can —
She read and read and read until you were nodding off, eyes fluttering shut and disappearing off into a dream land as Ellie’s raspy voice trails off, fondly watching you as your lips parted a little, more of your warm weight sinking into her side. “Okay.” She whispered, to no one in particular— and closed the book quietly, stretching to reach behind her and place it on your bedside table, turning off your lamp too.
Ellie was always a light sleeper, maybe she was paranoid or just protective — because she seemed to wake up constantly when she’d stay with you. Not that you didn’t make her feel more relaxed than anyone ever had, because you certainly did. She just… fuck, she didn’t know. She needed to be alert at all times. Just in case.
Tonight was like any other time, stirring at the cooing of a heavy wind outside the rattling windows. Her eyes found the back of your head immediately and settled a little, comfortable and dozed with the feeling of your ass grazing her front and the warmth of your back blanketing her. You slept like two people in love and if she were more awake she’d probably mourn the relationship that was out of her grasp. Too much of a pussy, too much of a risk to ruin things. But this, this she could enjoy in her half awake consciousness.
She was about to drift back off, perhaps a deeper sleep this time knowing that everything is alright and you’re safe from the harsh winds of Spring. Until, she felt a prodding. That was the best way to describe it. Like you were poking her, despite both of your arms being curled at your front visibly. She panicked for a moment, which woke her enough to open her eyes and gaze down at whatever the hell was poking her in the stomach. Your tail.
It curled at the end like a question mark, curious and wandering. She watches, fascinated at how you could be sound asleep and yet your tail had a mind of its own. It knocked on her, like it was asking for entry before it poked lower, lower, Jesus, lower. Without time for her to respond, your tail slots itself between her thighs, curling around and cupping her cunt. She gasps, bringing a hand up that was originally going to cover her mouth, but ran over her own head instead, frozen and unsure of what to do in this situation.
Why was your tail touching her up whilst you slept innocently on the other end of it? She knew you were sleeping for sure because of the quiet snores and the even quieter hum of your pur — making her wonder how she never noticed it before you’d told her about your rarity. Your tail slithered like a snake as if trying to get comfortable, which made Ellie’s mouth hang open as it practically moulded itself to the shape of her. The agile tip of your tail curled around, brushing against the material of her sweatpants all the way up to her clit and she winced, enough to stir you a little. Your tail seemed to go a little limp as you groan quietly, your sleep disturbed. God, what if she wakes up and finds me like this? Her fucking tail getting me off. That’s weird, oh god — you’re a creep Ellie. Move, move now. Jesus.
She spins around so the two of you are back to back, staring at the wall. Ellie clenches her thighs so that your tail can’t slip through them and grope her again, frowning as she squeezes her eyes closed in shame at how good it felt. It was wrong. Wrong and creepy and awful and she hated herself for letting it go on for that long. She willed herself to sleep, repeating those words like a mantra.
The next day you plant flowers together in the community garden. She doesn’t bring it up.
SUMMER
There were certain pages in the manual that the two of you would skip. It was too awkward, too intrusive — pages you would separately read in your own time.
If you don’t get your female cat spayed, they’re going to go into heat. How exciting! And if you’re experiencing kitty in heat for the first time, you’re probably wondering: how do I cope with this? Dealing with a restless, frisky kitty may seem like a challenging task, but it’s not nearly as difficult as you may think. We’ve outlined plenty of quick tips and suggestions to help calm your cat down in the short term, as well as some solutions to prevent heat in the long term. In just a few minutes, you’ll be able to give your loving furball the support and respite she needs during this tough time.
Ellie snickered when she read it the first time, a night where you’d fallen asleep at her house, curled up on the end of the bed by her feet. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep there, it just happened — trying to give yourself space on the particularly warm evening. Not everything in this manual applied to you, like you’d insisted plenty of times — you’re mainly all human. Despite the purring, you hadn’t felt you’d demonstrated any feline-like behaviours (Ellie disagrees strongly, but can’t bring herself to argue.) That night she had sat up later, reading about cats in heat — wondering if… you’d ever… what would she do… no, Ellie. Stop.
When summer had approached, something had flipped. Things were normal until they weren’t— and at first you could blame it on the weather, the serotonin flooding everyone’s systems from the influx of Vitamin D, being able to wear less and enjoy more. Days seeming longer. Life seeming better. You’d grown more affectionate with Ellie, not fighting the urge anymore to be touching her at all times. Gently sinking your teeth into her freckled skin when you felt the urge, wrapping your tail around her leg when you’d stand side by side in your kitchen, clambering onto her lap with the manual and urging her to read some more so you could get sleepy and comfortable and fall asleep on top of her. You saw the way people would look at the two of you around Jackson together, they thought you were together — and you didn’t mind — even though you weren’t. Just two super close best friends.
When the calendar had rolled over to July, things seemed to intensify by ten. Things were changing, urges growing stronger. You couldn’t control yourself purring when Ellie would simply enter the room, kneading your claws into your seat of the canteen area pulling up threads, needing to be near her. Practically vibrating the floorboards in total bliss when she’s give you a friendly, subtle ear scratch in public being careful not to unpin your ears. Saliva pooling inside your mouth with the urge to lick her all over when she’d arrive to your home late at night after a rough patrol, ready to crawl into bed beside you and surrender herself to your grabby paws hands. Wanting to pounce on her when she’d greet you by the gardens, knuckle knocking gently beneath your chin with a friendly “Mornin’ kitty-cat.” Worst of all, the growing neediness you’d succumb to each night you weren’t together, mewling as you’d grind against a pillow pretending it was her thigh, soaking the sheets. You were starting to accept that you were experiencing your first ever heat.
You particularly enjoyed summer evenings in Jackson. The air was was balmy and warm without the scalding, overwhelming sunshine like there was in the day. Most if not all citizens would be in the town centre at movie night or the bar — which created a perfectly calm and empty landscape for walks. It was one that day, the one that’s about to unfold — that you were particularly dazed. You felt high, sensitive, walking on air. You wear a bell around your neck now, a giggly patrol gift from Ellie — something that tinkles quietly and could be confused with simple jewellery to the untrained eye. It sounds each step you take, a comforting noise that was special to you and your best friend. Your summer dress grazed above your knees, and due to no one being around, you didn’t quite care that your tail would occasionally peak out when a warm breeze would pass through.
You stroll past the flowers you and Ellie had planted in spring, stroll past the empty playground with the wooden climbing equipment that you had to continue walking on from to not give into the urge to dig your aching claws into. Your mind was set on finding Ellie — Ellie, Ellie, Ellie, who’d supposedly just be returning home from patrol. As expected, nothing quite getting past your astute cat wisdom — there she stood, facing away from you in just her adorable oversized white tshirt, greenish brownish greenish flannel and long baggy denim shorts. Your whole body felt hot and the sight of her, heart pumping and palms tingling. Approaching slowly, you hear her quietly talking to Shimmer as she undresses her of her equipment, occasionally stopping to give her affectionate pats and love. Ellie was always good with animals.
Figures.
You step closer, alerting Ellie of your presence. “Here kitty.” She smirks, continuing to remove Shimmer’s saddle before turning over her shoulder, eyeing you briefly.
“How’d you know I was here?” You swoon, dumb smile on your face as you step up to her. Probably too close, but something inside of you was clawing to be able to smell her, be able to feel the warmth radiating off her body. She doesn’t react to the proximity, just lifting a finger and jingling the bell at your neck. You fight a shudder when her coarse fingertip grazes the soft skin of your neck.
“Hard to miss you. That bell was definitely a good investment, you’re not sneakin’ up on me anymore, huh.”
She continues tending to Shimmer as you watch, a fond smile on your face.
“How was patrol? ‘Missed you.” You tug at her flannel sleeve for attention and she chuckles good naturedly, rolling her eyes.
“Wasn’t gone for that long, was I? You’re always missing me lately. Is somethin’ up?” She turns her head to you again inquisitively, concern flashing through her eyes — as well as the stream of bright light from the sunset through the crack in the barn wall. She squints.
“Uh…” You sigh out softly. Yes. I need you. I want you. Come here. Fuck me. “No. I dunno.” You shrug, forcing yourself to look away, defeated. No, you’re here for a reason. “Can you come over tonight? Sleepover?” You realise you’re still clinging to her sleeve and she’s letting you, her eyes drifting to the way your hand slides downwards and catches her hand, intertwining your fingers. You know, just best friend things.
“Jesse asked me to hang out but…” She started, but trailed off when you became all fluttery lashes and bambi-eyed. “Fuck it,” She breathes. “I’m too tired for his shit today anyway.”
You grin, successful and tilt your head. “Not too tired for my shit?” and she scoffs, squeezing your hand.
“Never.”
She steps back, your joined hands bridging the two of you still. Her eyes are trailing down again. That little sundress, she hadn’t seen that before. Maybe hanging in your closet, but not out of the house. Her eyes dip lower and she sees a flash of fur swinging behind you, jostling your dress. Her eyes widen a little. “Hey.” She emphasises, nodding her head down. You’re still staring at her, at her freckles and the way they’re shaded from the sun — a halo of bronze and natural flush.
“Hm?” You sing. She furrows her brows.
“Your dress is short.”
“Don’t you like it?”
“What? Uh— fuck, I mean, yeah — but I’m saying other people might see your…” She nods again in gesture, nervous.
“Tail?” Your fingers trail up her flannel sleeve a little.
“Yeah. People might not be as… open to all that, babe.” Babe. A slip up, usually — usually said when she wanted to soften the blow, or when she physically couldn’t stop the affection from meeting her lips. You preened at the word anyway, didn’t even bother to hide it.
“No one’s around.”
Your claw traces the blue green vein on her pale wrist. You don’t remember it coming out, these days it seemed they just did it on their own. She winces at the light scratch, but she lets you anyway. Just ogling, wide eyed, a little confused and a little turned on — which confused her all the more. She silently begged herself, get a grip.
She tore her hand away, hoisting her backpack off her back and swinging it around — damn near smacking you in the face with it. “Got you a present. Know you like those.” She rushes out, sounding a little out of breath like she’d been running. You liked it, liked that you did that to her. You’re smiling and she’s like, ignoring it — because she knows you know you flustered her and that’s not like Ellie. Not like calm and collected Ellie Williams.
“For me? You shouldn’t have.”
She digs around, pulling out a black rectangular VHS tape. Hard to come by, but always a delight seeing as you had a TV facing your bed in your room that refused CD discs and would only play grainy tapes. Ellie turned it in her hands, displaying the white tape across the front that read in someone unknowns Sharpie’d handwriting ‘Disney Aristocats’
“Think it’s about cats. Thought it would be funny.” She chuckles humbly, her ‘you hate it. fuck my life.’ thoughts kicking in as expected.
“We can watch it tonight!” You grin, gently taking it from her — clutching it proudly in your hands. She relaxes, shoulders unstiffening.
“Cool. Uh, yeah.” She nods, scratching her scalp which made the half-up-bun bob at the back of her head. She looks at you, and then looks around, and then back at you. Always back at you. “Alright. Let me go home and shower, you go set everything up and I’ll be round soon. Just… get outta here, before anyone sees you. Yeah?” Ellie exasperates, softly clapping two hands down on your shoulders and spinning you around, carefully nudging you to start walking away.
“M’kay. See you then, Els.”
“See ya, trouble.” Eye roll. Or maybe her eyes just rolled back at the sight of you swishing away in your little sundress. She’s not sure.
You were stood in front of the mirror when the door knocked. Your heart jumped — like you weren’t expecting Ellie to even come for some reason — but more so because you wasn’t sure you could get away with pyjamas this skimpy. You wanted to seduce her, sure. But this was just obscene. You wore, what essentially was just a long tank top. It fell mid thigh, flimsy and thin, showing every curve and dip and plumpness to you. You didn’t ever feel insecure around Ellie, no — but she might just call you a slut.
There was no time to change, so you ran and got the door, feigning confidence. Something was… different about the way she was stood there. Her hands were in her jean pockets awkwardly, like she didn’t know what to do with them. She’d actually cleaned up surprisingly, wearing her jeans and off white wifebeater. She somewhat looked like she was trying, but maybe that was all in your head. She didn’t look you in the eye either, thick brown lashes fluttered slightly as her eyes jumped down you in segments. Tits, then tummy, then hips, and then tail. The sight of it flapping about freely made her usher you inside quickly, always aware of the risks.
“Hey furball, y’ready to watch the movie?” She clears her throat, looking around your house like she’d never seen it before. Nervous? Something else?
“Told you not to call me that, doofus. But yes, follow me.” You giggle, and that’s all you seem to do around her these days if not purring — constant girlish giggles tumbling past your lips at the slightest joke. It bordered on pathetic.
She enters your room with a chuckle, like — the type that says ‘you’re so fucking cute.’ in Ellie’s voice, if you can imagine. You’d set the movie up, the screen buzzing with static playing old timey music with the start up screen for the movie awaiting the two of you. You’d rustled together every blanket and cushion you could get your hands on to create some kind of nest for the two of you to get all cuddled up in, and even more than that if your plans went how they should. It smells like you in the room, and Ellie wants to stand there and breathe in so hard her ribs crack from the expansion just to inhale you in completely. There’s no time for that, because you’re ushering her down on the bed. It’s almost horny just from the way you push her down, both hands on the warm skin of her freckled shoulders — your smooth and grabbable thighs between her legs. “Get comfy. But not too comfy. You always fall asleep when we watch movies.”
But how could she fall asleep when you’re dressed like that? In your natural form, wearing so little and showing so much. Her palms felt like little ants were inside her skin, running around like their tiny heads were on fire — or maybe it was just the hand static from not being able to touch your electric skin, to graze her coarseness over your smoothness and hear the sizzle of you up against fingertips. She wanted to hold you by the back of the head, take all your weight, all your thoughts, all of you.
But she was here to watch a movie, like a good best friend. And if that’s what you needed that’s what she’d be.
Turns out trying to seduce someone into scratching the itch that’s been aching you for weeks was harder than expected. How were you supposed to initiate this again? Hadn’t you thought about this time and time again, written about your dream scenarios of getting down and dirty with Ellie in the middle of your diary where no one would look if they’d found it and opened it up? You’d practised this, time and time again whilst you fall asleep — or whilst you’re fucking your hand, or whilst you’re staring at her profile idly whilst she sits and draws. God, how do you make the first move?
You’re staring at her whilst this rackets your brain, and you don’t realise how shamelessly you’re gawking at her until she side-eyes you, a fond little smirk daring to grace her features — it was audacious how cute she was. “Somethin’ on your mind?”
She’s practically handing you the opportunity. Your skin burns, body pressed to hers. Her arm is wrapped around your shoulder, the two of you propped up laying back on your bed and it’s all set up perfectly. You could say a million things, you could push your weight up on your elbow and reach up and kiss the side of her rubied lips. You want to slot a hand right between your thighs there and then, relieve yourself, show her what she’s done to you. The mess she’s made out of you.
You squeak out a “Nope.” despite all of this.
You keep planning and rehearsing, not concentrating on the cat movie anymore, that’s for damn sure. Who was that old lady again? What was that cats name? Who cares. You’re staring, syncing your breath to hers. You think yourself to sleep, cheek pressed to her collar bone and soft snores. Completely unsuccessful, but there’s always next time right?
When you wake up a few hours later things feel different. You’re not touching Ellie anymore — Hell, she could be gone for all you know. But you’re feverish, throat dry and prickly. Your skin is broken out into goosebumps despite the heat, your thin tank top dress completely stuck to your skin and sheering from the pure amount of sweat drenching you. What the fuck? Were you sick? You’re panting, aching but not all over — only in your… you reach down, half awake and feel your slick coating your inner thighs, pooling your cunt. You felt feral.
Your eyes shoot open now, because — well, you can’t be doing that. Can’t be touching yourself like that with Ellie right there. The room is glowing blue, and you locate the TV screen causing it. The movie is gone, finished, and the screen is on a standby channel, quiet and staticy as it alights the bedroom. You turn to Ellie, because you need her suddenly, feeling like you’ll burst into tears or cum without touch, whichever comes first and you don’t know why. Any shyness has left you when you turn, spinning onto your hands and knees to touch her and shake her awake.
She’s laying on her front, her wifebeater having ridden up a little to display some of her back. Her arm hugs her pillow, and you don’t remember her being that sculpted — her arms, the ones that hold you when you hug and lift the heavy gates on patrol. You reach out and touch, and then grab, and then you shake her awake. “Els, Ellie please.”
It doesn’t take her much, she’s a light sleeper as mentioned before. She panics a little, flipping onto her back when she hears your trembling, whiney tone. What’s wrong? What happened? She’s reaching for you before her eyes are fully open.
“Hey, wha’samatter?” She croaks, one eye squinting shut in the bright blue glow. You go to tell her but you just whisper her name again, and again and you just need her to touch. Your hand grabs her arm again and she sits up fully, eyes widening a little as she wakes up properly. “Hey, talk t’me.”
“Look at me I’m—” You whine quietly, gesturing to your fevered appearance but you feel like you don’t have time to explain. You have no sense of patience or shame when you scooch closer, hands sliding over her shoulders so your foreheads are nearly touching. You look deranged and her cunt twitches.
“I need you Els. Somethin’ is going on with me and I just... I don’t know but I need you.” You beg. Jesus, she must be having some kind of wet dream.
“What? Uh— you — need me how?” She stutters, and she feels like a fuckin’ idiot because where was the suave flirting skills and pizazz she promised herself she’d have when the day came that you finally asked her to touch you? Let her have you? Her stomach clenches in cringe but she barely has time to overthink it because you’re moving impossibly closer. Your tits are practically spilling out and Ellie’s palms are sweating so much that it makes her insecure.
“Think somethings wrong with me, think I’m in—”
“You’re in heat.” Your words overlap and the two of you are whispering like there’s anyone else in the house that might overhear you. “Yeah, uh — shit man, I read about it in the book, you know? I didn’t know if you’d… if you’d be able to… whatever. What do you need? You need some water?” She’s rambling, needing to think carefully about her actions. She didn’t wanna take advantage of you when you were so vulnerable… was this like, weird? Not because you’re her best friend — no, this has been Ellie’s long game since you met — but because of the whole… feline thing.
“No I don’t need water Ellie, I just want you to help me. It… it aches.” You cry miserably, dropping your face into her shoulder defeatedly. She smells so good, just like her — like Ellie, but so much stronger than usual, your senses heightened by ten. It weakened you, feeling this out of control. You sniffle, rubbing your nose into her top and she rubs your drenched back — sympathetic.
“Is it because it’s like… a full moon or something?” She asks quietly and your brows furrow in annoyance, pushing yourself off her to be face to face again.
“M’not a werewolf Ellie.” You pout, and her lips twitch up into a nervous half chuckle, relaxing a little as she reaches up and smoothes her thumb between your brows. She sighs. And then laughs quietly.
“I know that.”
The two of you look at eachother for a moment, a silent conversation in the place of what should be confessing feelings. You feel like you take the first step when you glance at her lips, and she returns it by glancing at yours. The looks get more eager, and your bodies thrust closer, and you kiss.
You wished it was romantic, like you’d planned for months. But it’s needy and eager and you’re panting and whining within thirty seconds of having her tongue glide against yours. You’re lucky that Ellie is just eagerly going with it, happy to be there. You didn’t wanna make her uncomfortable or come across as forceful — but that didn’t seem to be the case at all, especially not when she let out a little groan at the feeling of of you sinking down pointed teeth into her bottom lip.
She topples back when you lean into her more and you’re clambering onto her lap, thighs shaking. You hear yourself before you realise you’re not kissing anymore, instead whispering “Please, please, please.” against her lips with your eyes screwed shut as you grind your soaked cunt onto her jean covered one. Where you’d usually make a comment about her sleeping in jeans, you pant — and she lets out an embarrassingly loud, wide eyed groan at the feeling. The zipper digs into both of your clits from either side.
“Fuck, fuck okay.” Her hands hover, and she doesn’t know where to grab first. This is happening, God this is really fucking happening. She blushes at the thought of her dorkishly pinching herself, just to check it’s not some super torturous vivid dream as her hands float before just pawing at your back, pulling you closer. Closer. Need her closer.
You shuffle back in the dark, hands fumbling for that zipper that you’d made warm and wet through your cotton underwear and tug it down so harshly you think it’s gonna come off. Buttons get unpopped, and fingers get tucked into a waistband before you’re yanking down. Ellie’s getting whiplash at the speed you’re moving, eyes flickering across your desperate and pained expression. Fat tears sit beneath your eyes as you mutter the word ‘closer’ again, an inkling of relief when you pull her jeans down to her mid thighs revealing soft black boxers.
You sit on her again, and — that’s it, that’s the friction you wanted. You can feel the raised, round mould of her pussy through the material and she gasps when you grind down onto her, forcing herself up onto her elbows, eyes rolling back a little, hands gripping your thigh creases as she stared down at your white underwear smushing itself into hers in the dim light. You’re whimpering (and so is she for a moment), hips jerking forward and Ellie genuinely doesn’t know what to do with you. It feels so fucking good, but she feels like she’s not stepping up the way she should. She wants to take control, make it all better for you like she always does.
“Fuck, okay babe. Chill, okay? Mhpm, I got you. Let me help you. S’what I’m here for right? Lay back.” She whispers, and leans forward again to ease you backwards and like she can’t help it, presses another kiss to your lips. You both freeze, because this time it has feeling behind it. That’s also what you needed, you needed her to take control. You relax for a moment, letting her roll you onto your back barely breaking apart the kiss.
When she pulls back, she strokes your hot cheek with her thumb — staring into each others eyes. Hers are still beautiful and vibrant even in the feverish blue light, glancing all across your face with concern and fondness etched into her features. “Kay?” she speaks, tapping her thumb to your cheek for a response and you nod, huffing out a breath. Okay. Try to calm down.
She kisses the corner of your mouth, which trails inevitably into the crook of your neck, her swollen lips sucking the slippery skin with a hum. Your fingers are bunched tightly into her shirt and her jeans are still below her ass from your dry humping craze. You take some deep breaths, and she hears you — outwardly appreciating your efforts to be calm. “Thats good, keep doin’ that.” She whispers when you push air out of your mouth shakily, and the praise makes your legs fall open limply.
“You gonna let me help you out, pretty girl?” She kisses the centre of your chest and you mewl, body vibrating with purs as you nod. “Tell me, please. I’ve uh, I’ve waited so long to hear it.” She sounds nervous in the sweetest way possible, making you even in your haze reach out to comfort her, pushing her auburn strands out her face as she looks up at you pleadingly.
“Please help me Ellie, want you to touch me.” Your voice is jumpy from your shudders, and it transfers to her — your eyes just catching the way she trembles a little from adrenaline in the dark.
“Alright baby, I got you.”
Hearing her call you baby like you’d always hoped she would makes you heave out a sigh, pushing your hips up into her body weight trying to relieve yourself somehow. She shushes you, distracted by the feel of you beneath her palms now as she drags them down your body. Her thumbs swipe across your hard nipples through the thin material of your pyjamas and you mewl again, arching into her hands.
“Gonna make you feel better, promise.” She whispers but it feels more like she’s talking about you and not to you so you try to keep quiet so that you can just observe. She’s sliding down the bed ‘til she’s practically half off it, pushing your dress up to press fond kisses to your tummy. It feels right, like it’s something she’s been doing for months despite it being her first time down there. It’s Ellie, your Ellie. You can’t think of anyone you’d be in better hands with.
“Never,” kiss. “Had,” kiss. “Someone down here,” kiss. “Before have you?” She drags her lips downwards this time, gripping the meat of your thighs and spreading them. You sigh out a whimper and shake your head, embarrassed by how needy you were for a flash of a second before getting lost in your lust again. She whispers out an ‘Th’sokay’ against your hipbone as she pushes your thighs open before pulling back — taking a look. Her tongue wets her lips at the sight before her, eyes adjusted into the low light now to see how you’ve completely soaked through your underwear — lips fat and wanting through the material. Ellie let’s out a breath she was unaware to be holding, forefinger stroking through your covered folds with a glance upwards to make sure it was all still okay.
“God damn.” She comments, and you know what she means — she probably didn’t know it was possible to get this wet.
“Take’m off, please.” You whimper, writhing your hips around growing impatient once more and she nods frantically, peeling the cotton down your body making you hide your face in your arm when your centre clings to the fabric.
“So ready, huh.” She whispers, hot breath fanning over your bare cunt now. She breathes out a barely audible chuckle as she strokes the side of her finger across the small curled tuft of pubic hair that sat on your skin.
“Yeah, b—been ready for you Els. Wanted this for so l—ong.” You can’t stop trembling, and perhaps it was your feverish chills or the fact you were so excited to finally have your best friend in the way you’d wanted her.
“Yeah?” She cooes, but she’s barely listening — both thumbs pushing the fat of your lips outward, spreading you for her viewing pleasure. “Been hiding all this from me? But it’s so pretty…”
You sniffle, and she takes that as her sign to dive straight in — tongue flattening against your exposed clit and flicking upwards before dragging her lips down through your quantity of arousal. You moan, barely able to hear yourself through the loud purs emitting from you and buck your hips against her face.
You knew Ellie had experience, from the gutwrenching stories she’d tell you about her escapades with her ex girlfriend Cat (Funnily enough, actually her name — a foreshadowing all things considered.) But you’d figured it was just fooling around behind the barn, or maybe when Joel wasn’t home as the two of them used to share a residence. You didn’t expect her to be so… ravenous. If you knew that the girl sat beside you for so long could eat like this, you might have felt more inclined to approach her for help a little sooner.
The room was filled with obscene sounds, the sound of Ellie’s mouth ministrations which can only be compared to noise that belonged to stirring buttery pasta — mixed with her low moans against you because apparently you tasted that good. This was also mixed with, but not overshadowed by your desperate cries and purs as you pull her head further down into your crotch, panting up against the ceiling praying for release.
You hear yourself cry for “More!” and as if the thought had already sprouted for your best friend, her middle finger immediately pressed in against your hole — applying pressure and massaging that warm spot — a challenge for it not to slip right in given how wet you were for her.
“Can give you more. Lemme in, babe.” She murmurs against you when she finally sinks it in, sucking on your clit as means to get you to loosen up around her — which in hindsight wasn’t her most clear-minded idea as you only clenched harder. Ellie, much to your dismay removes her mouth for a moment to sit up on her elbow a little higher. She blows over your clit, smacking a wet kiss to it before looking up at you seriously — finger frozen only a little way in. Her free hand comes up, wide palm stroking across your lower stomach soothingly. “Gotta relax. Don’t wanna hurt you and you’re tight, babe. Relax.”
This side of Ellie made it difficult to not challenge this by clenching even harder. You could tell there was still an element of nerves to her, not wanting to fuck it up — but it just came so naturally to her to look after you. You push a shaky breath out through your mouth in a small ‘o’ shape, eager to make her proud again like before and focus on unclenching, her thumb on the connecting hand softly stroking your clit up and down to assumably aid you in this. “Good job, that’s it.”
She smiles when she returns her mouth to your folds, absolutely ecstatic to get back in there. You would have giggled at this if you weren’t so worked up, placing all your concentration into keeping loose for her and letting her press her finger up into a delicate spot you hadn’t discovered before. You jerk, briefly clenching again as her gaze snaps up to you— free hand coming back to smooth down your hip and ass, calming you. “C’mon babe, this is gonna get y’there. Help me out here.” She whispers and you try for her again, letting her press up into that toe curling devastating place. The bed rocks with movement, the same feeling you get when you’re half awake in the back of a moving car — and you glance down to realise it’s Ellie, and she’s fucking humping the bed, grunting against your pussy with her nose smushed to your clit. You feel the tears welling, and something turning like cogs in your stomach. Your orgasm approaches, but it’s only at the precipice of your cunt— the ache reaching much deeper and you panic at the idea of being left unsatisfied despite your deep lust, Ellie’s touches only making you ache more.
“Els, Ellie w—wait I’m gonna, let — wait I can’t it’s not — s’not deep enough I need more, need more it’s too —” You’re suddenly crying out, pushing yourself up with a look of absolute devastation on your face which is so sobering that she pulls her fingers out of you completely — pushing her self up at crazy speeds to meet you half way and cup your face.
“Babe, you’re panicking. Just talk to me, tell me what you need I — I can give it to you. Breathe.” She whispers, lips brushing your own as she attempts to comfort you, swiping away the tears leaking down your cheeks still. Your lip curls over, puffing out and wobbling as you suck in a quivering breath.
“More— just need to be… fucked, need you to fuck me, need it deeper.” You wail and she shushes you again, her slender hand coming back down to just cup your cunt in a way that made you dizzy, an attempt for her to comfort you and hold you in a way that you needed. Your eyes squeeze shut and tears moisten your lashes, feeling guilty for asking for such things, unsure if she can really give it to you. You didn’t want her to feel bad.
Ellie bites her lip in thought and tastes you. She did have that one thing… though she hadn’t actually used it before. It was a harness, a thick purple dildo lodged into the centre of it — stashed in a shoebox and shoved under her bed with crimson cheeks and clammy hands. She’d found it on patrol, and figured it could be useful one day maybe — a vision of you taking her with an arched back and her hips slamming against your plush ass making her wince and cup her cunt through her jeans in that very sex store. She had something that could help, and she had to push her pride aside to offer.
“Got something I can fuck you with. It’s… literally for that purpose but uh, it’s back at my place.” When she see’s the way your eyes light up with hope she’s jumping up, yanking her jeans up back around her waist, fumbling to do up her zipper as she continues to stare at you for permission. “I can run, be back in literally five minutes — do you want it babe? I’ll be so fucking fast you won’t even know I’m gone.” She’s not sure who’s begging who anymore, because since handed the opportunity Ellie has become obsessed with the idea of finally getting to fuck you good and proper.
“Yes j—just be fast, Ellie please be fast.” You mewl weakly, dropping back against the bed. She gives you a once over as she stumbles for her shoes, pulling her Converse on at a speed you didn’t think was possible and roughly tying laces. She’s out the door before you know it, leaving you to your own devices.
It feels like hours when she’s gone and you slip further into that dream-like, hazy space you’ve been fighting since she’d laid hands on you. Without her touch, the ache began to settle deep into your centre again — skin on fire and sensitive to the touch. You felt like you were being burned from the inside out without her there, rolling around on your sheets attempting to find comfort and coming up unsuccessful. The arch in your back only opened your cunt wider to the balmy air, and your nipples grew sore quickly from rubbing up against your bedsheet. A bead of sweat rolls between your tits.
Ellie’s feet hurt from the speed her Converse would slap the concrete of Jackson’s town— sprinting her way through the 4AM streets on a mission to bring you the equipment to satisfy your urges. Her heart thunders when she reaches her place, dropping her keys and swearing to herself as she fumbled to get the door open. She doesn’t bother closing it behind her when she runs inside, wood creaking beneath her heavy steps to sliding down on her knees beside her bed, reaching her hand along the dusty floor to find that shoe box. She finds it, muttering a borderline deranged ‘There you are’ before sliding it out, popping it open just to check it’s still there before slamming the lid back on and tucking the box under her arm, heading back to you.
You know she’s back because through your daze you hear the door shut and her loud high-pitched grunt of exertion, the image of her doubling over in your hallway to catch her breath coming to you almost like a prophetic vision. The ache worsens as her footsteps draw closer, her voice strained and out of breath as she calls out to you. “I almost — Fuck, almost ran into Jesse on the way to his early patrol. Saw him and, had to take a detour behind someone’s house cos’ he would have asked what was in the box and like — I can’t just get it out and show him…” Her panted words trail off when she re enters the bedroom, eyes falling on your desperate state once more.
It was a blow to her heart, seeing you so worked up. You were completely naked now in just your collar, brow slick with sweat and body practically glowing. Your tail curls around your thigh self soothingly, ears pointed high and alert. Your back arches painfully as you drag your hands down your thighs. You sniffle, defeated.
“Can’t even touch myself n’make it better cos my claws won’t go back in.” You shake, dragging your hands down your thighs desperately. Your sharp claws catch the delicate skin leaving long thin marks but you don’t even seem to notice. Ellie’s brows furrow and she rushes to you, sitting beside you on the bed and taking your hand in hers, looking at your clawed fingertips.
“Hey, don’t… don’t do that. M’here now. Can look after you yeah? Let me just…” She struggles for the box and pulls out the clattering harness and toy. You’re distracted for a moment as you watch, intrigued by the contraption that she’s pulling up her jeans and fastening at her hips. When she’s done, a purple plastic cock stands proud in the centre of her crotch, and your mouth practically waters.
It was animalistic, truly — and a little embarrassing the way you grabbed her and pulled her onto the bed. She even had the nerve to stumble a little bit, her back bouncing against the sheets as she scrambled to get comfortable and you crawled onto her lap. You press your lips to hers again like she’s your life line, letting out a muffled moan because you missed her. She’d been gone for five minutes and you’d missed her. You knew she’d tease you for that if it were any other time, but this time was like no other. She groans against you too, her hand cupping up to cup the back of your head and hold you there. You couldn’t get enough of eachother, all this waiting was finally paying off.
Your thighs shake around her as you wrap your hand around the dildo, sitting back as you can rub it up and down your slick a few times, collecting it’s juice. Ellie sits up a little, watching with wide eyes. “Jesus. Y’look so fuckin’ pretty.”
Her words send a surge of need through you again and you push the fat tip against your hole, adjusting so you can sit straight down on it. She winces for you, hands hovering above your hips. “Careful you haven’t taken anything bigger than my fingers before it’s gonna—”
You groan, melting into her as you sink down all the way. She’s right, it does hurt — and you’re frozen, laying against her shoulder hiccuping and quietly sobbing at the stretch. It’s way too much, but — it scratches the itch. Dulls the ache inside. You could power through this.
Her voice is gentle when she speaks, hands slowly coming down on your back to rub soothing circles on your clammy skin. “Hey.” She leans back a little, tilting her head trying to get a look at you. “Look at me, baby.”
You do, because how could you not — blinking big wet, eyes at her in the dark. She wipes away some tears with her knuckle, brows frowned and concerned. “You gotta be careful. Okay? I don’t… I’m not going to hurt you. I can’t.” She admits, and it seems to carry more meaning than what she’s letting off in the moment. Your doe eyes well again, fist curling in her wifebeater and then loosening as you try and calm your jerky breaths. She slowly reaches down until the pads of her fingers meet your clit, engorged and pushed out from the way your cunt is stretched open around her. She rubs it in light circles, softly — making you preen into her touch. The pain of the stretch lessens and you can’t help but grind down.
With each grind, you become more frenzied — picking up the pace as you chase the feeling you’d been after. You’re moaning over the sound of your pussy squelching around her and all she can do is grab onto your ass and help you, eyes all over you. “Fffffuck, babe — look at you, takin’ it so well. Who taught you how to fuck like this huh? Thought I was your first?” She chuckles, breathless from your incessant bouncing and grinding.
“You are, Els — m—my first and my only, don’t wanna fuck anyone else ever again.” You whine, so loudly it can probably be heard from outside but who cares — not when she’s got you like this. This worked up and needy for her. It was something from her wildest dreams.
“Yeah? Wanna be my girl?” She grunts, your grinding aiding the harness in hitting her clit just right with each movement. With all this time spent helping you, Ellie hadn’t realised how pent up she was.
“Yes, m’your girl Ellie, m’your girl you — you own me!” You admit, and it seems things go a little quiet at the confession. You clench hard, burrowing into her shoulder as she processes the words. Ellie hears an incoherent ‘More’ again, and her body goes on autopilot — feet sliding up to press flat against the bed. She holds you still, arm across your lower back and pins you to her whilst she fucks up into you fast. She grunts at the feeling, and you cry. With each bounce she forces out of you, your bell collar jingles humiliatingly.
Ellie can’t seem to keep her hands in one place, leaving your back to feel the way your tits jump with each movement caging them under her hands. “Yeah, baby? Like that?” She cooes and feels you nod frantically into her, nothing but mewls and moans able to leave you. You’re gushing over her strap, walls spasming trying to suck her back in each time she draws back — Ellie feels like she can feel it herself.
“Y’own me. M’all yours forever Els.” You babble like you’re trying to keep yourself awake, alive, conscious whilst Ellie fucks up into you like it’s the last chance she’ll ever get.
“Yeah? This all mine, sweet girl?” She cooes, and finally you feel it — the hint of a knot in your stomach, the orgasm you’ve been chasing — one that resides deep inside you, the ache that felt like it could kill you, soon to be soothed by Ellie herself.
“Yes! Yes! Mphm, g’nna cum on your dick!”
Her dick. She’d never thought of it like that before. The words leaving your mouth sparked something in her, and suddenly she was the feral one. Her jaw clenches, strong hands pushing and tugging and rolling you onto your back. You gasp at the feeling of her cock sliding right out to the tip at the jostling, tits bouncing as you lay back on the bed. You looked vulgar and improper and so far from your innocent self, and Ellie couldn’t help but feel that maybe this was all on her. Maybe you wouldn’t have gone into heat if the sexual tension between you wasn’t so strong. What had she done to her sweet best friend?
You stare up at her with doe eyes, and she stares back for a moment — lips parted, jaw squared and eyes dark. This was the Ellie you’d needed.
Her hands slide up the backs of your thighs and push your knees up to your chest, pressing her strap deep inside of you. Her breathing is erratic, hair falling into her face as she thrusts in and out at a punishing pace, the tip of her cock nudging your cervix just right. It’s almost too much to take and you turn your head with a weak mewl, sound punched out of your lungs. She doesn’t let you, grabbing you by the jaw so that fucked out your eyes stayed on her own glossy ones.
“Yeah that’s right, look at me. Stay right here with me.”
“C—can’t.”
“You can. Be good, c’mon, j’st keep taking it, angel.” She moans and your toes curl. Needing her as close as humanely possible, your hand curled around the back of her head tugging her to your lips. You feel her arm pressed between the two of you, giving herself just enough space to toy with your clit as she groaned against your mouth.
You detached, unable to keep up with the kissing as you wrapped your arms around Ellie’s neck — and she was okay with that, focusing on her thrusting to get you where you needed. You squeeze extra hard with a pained mewl, every one of your moans met with a cooed ‘Yeah?’ or ‘That right?’ until you were actually finally cumming.
You’re not aware of yourself when you actually do, feeling like water was being thrown over the fire that was your body all whilst igniting another at the same time. The sounds coming from you were…a lot. Purs and squeals and moans and squelching, nothing left to do but to let Ellie ride it out for you, telling you how good you are for letting go. You hear her wince and it brings you back a little, realising you’d been scraping your fangs along Ellie’s bare shoulder — drawing thick beads of blood.
You pant, and she stares down at you with a clenched jaw as you calm your self, recuperating after that Earth shattering orgasm given by your best f— you couldn’t surely still be calling her that right? After all that?
Your eyes focus, puffy lips smeared slightly with the blood you’d drawn from Ellie’s skin and you heave out a whispered apology, trying to blink back your concentration which was proven difficult with her strap still seated deep inside you the way it was.
“S—orry, got carried away I didn’t mean to.”
She goes to shrug, but the air is then punched out of her lungs as you lean forward a little, looking at her with pensive, wide submissive eyes before flattening your tongue against the wound and cleaning it up. She watches, still not having said a word before she’s gently grabbing your shoulders and pushing you to lay flat again. Her hips shift, a slow experimental grind rolling out from her hips as she watches you. Your brows furrow, jaw gaping at the sensitivity as you grab at her strong arms in a slight panic. She takes your hands and pins them down in a soft and loving way.
“What’you doin’ Els?” You sigh out almost in one breath, and that’s when she leans down and presses soft kisses to your cheek once more, her hair tickling your nose, wanting you to feel the love radiating off her.
“Makin’ sure it’s all out your system. You’ll let me do that, yeah?” She mutters, still breathless and you whine in response with a vicious nod. “Good girl.”
Your thighs, which you hadn’t realised had tightened around her hips loosened and fell open, your tail pushing out from under you to absentmindedly tickle your own skin. Maybe it was for comfort, self soothing you through the pleasurable pain of your overstimulation.
Ellie picked up her pace a little, her movements different from before— long and lengthy rolls of her hips making sure to graze every wall inside of you. “How’s that? That make you feel good?” It’s an earnest and honest question, genuinely wanting to know but you tip your head back, controlling everything in you not to hurt her when you dig her claws into the fat beneath her ass now — trying to pull her deeper inside since she’d let your arms out of her pin.
“Feels so good, Ellie. Y’look after me so well.” You whimper, one hand reaching up to push her hair out of her face and she blinks at you a little off guard— preening at the praise a little. “My strong, clever Ellie. Always doin’ what’s right f’me.” You whine, and it seems the praising is turning the both of you on as her brows knit, lips parting just a little as she grinds harder in a way that rubs her good down below.
“Okay, okay fuck.” She chuckles when she catches herself, which only makes you bite your lip and spread yourself wider for her. The angle hits your gummy insides yet again in a way that you just couldn’t handle and your legs are jerking, eyes squeezing shut as you ride out another soft orgasm — letting her pleasure herself inside of you.
She keeps going, and keeps going, and keeps fucking going until you’re all fucked out — Ellie’s boxers soaked and the strap shiny all over from your releases. The sun is starting to come up through the blinds making Ellie squint tiredly when she rolls you over back on top of her, your thighs splayed either side of her body — plastic dick still burrowed inside of you.
She lets out a sigh of exertion and a gentle ‘Alright’ when she tries to carefully lift her hips, trying to get a good grip on the base of the dildo so she could pull it out of you but you whine, clenching around it selfishly as you smush your cheek against her — fucked out and senseless, already half asleep. “J’st keep it… keep it inside, please. Just for a little while.”
The sentence makes her heart tighten a little and she just nods, letting herself fall back and relax into the soft pillows more, hand opting to instead lazily trail up and down your back until the movements were halting with her journey into sleep— drifting off to the visions of your beautiful face, and the memory of your kisses against her lips.
She’ll ask you out officially tomorrow. For now, she could just enjoy the peace that you brought her.
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ireadwithmyears · 1 year
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Absent mindedly making me want you
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Pairing: Ellie Williams / female reader
Word count : 12 K 💀 I swear it’s worth it I just really wanted a well rounded story even if this is just a one shot
Summary : 
Due to her first-hand experience when it comes to drowning, Ellie takes it upon herself to teach you how to swim. Something that neither of you had anticipated, however, was how intimate this endeavour would be, resulting in a day filled with unresolved sexual tension, that, unsurprisingly and inevitably comes to ahead
Tags/warnings : established relationship, soo much sexual tension, smut (18+, MDNI), porn with minor plot, dom/sub undertones, soft dom Ellie, submissive reader, inexperienced reader (first time), light hair pulling, unsafe lesbian sex, fingering, oral (F receiving), face sitting, lots of dirty talk(bc you cannot convince me that Ellie doesn’t have an absolutely filthy mouth), praise kink, overstimulation, forced orgasm, multiple orgasms, pussy slapping (just once), aftercare, fluff, no use of Y/N
“I’m sorry, wait, hold on. You’re telling me you’ve never learned how to swim?”
The settlement of Jackson has been dealing with, hopefully, the last of its winter storms for the year. Spring had crept its way around the corner, shining its promisingly hopeful rays of warm sunlight for a few, blissfully beautiful, but in the end, all two short days
But then, in what must be mother nature’s idea of a harmless joke, it was crudely snatched away and replaced with icy winds that seemed to settle within your very core, leaving you shivering long after you went inside to get warm. Wyoming had been hit with a blizzard that had caught everyone so off guard, that Jackson was ill-equipped and unprepared to handle it, leaving most of the community snowed in; workloads being much reduced and limited to essential services for the time being, until the snow abated.
This is how you and a group of friends found yourselves in Jesse’s living room, cradling mugs of hot chocolate, enjoying the warmth that seeped into your fingertips, and making a blanket fort as if you were still school children at a sleepover. The snowy days and lack of work seemed to bring out a childish side to everyone, which is how you found yourself engaged in a game of never have I ever, sitting in a tight circle with your friends and girlfriend who, up until a few seconds ago, had been absent mindedly playing with your hair, your head resting against her shoulder, where you had been quite content to stay.
But, she had now pulled back, looking at you with her eyebrows raised, lips quirked down quizzically, as if in thought. You look around at your friends, taking note of everyone else who’s never learned. You’re relieved to find that you’re not alone in this. As expected, the Jackson old-timers, the few of you who have been settled here almost your whole lives, or at least, as long as you could remember, had never encountered an environment that required the ability to swim.
“Nope, it’s never been necessary.” You shrug. 
She tilts her head, thinking, a few wisps of auburn hair escaping her ponytail as she regards you, teeth lightly grazing the bottom of her lip as she appears to be calculating an idea in her mind.
“As soon as it gets warm enough, I’m taking you out, and I'm gonna teach you. Joel taught me because he said that I would never know when it was a skill that would become necessary for me to have until it’s too late,” she says, nodding to herself decisively.
“Ah, I see your dad‘s passed off his overprotectiveness onto you,” you smirk, rolling your eyes fondly.
She hits you with a pillow for that. 
“Quiet, you,” she says in mock offense.
She pokes your belly lightly and you instinctively jump back with a surprised squeal. You hear the quiet amusement of your friends, Jesse barely containing a snort as he watches. You’re about to utter a retort when she reaches out, pulling you against her, settling you on her lap, where you happily go. 
When she presses a chaste kiss to your lips, hand settling at the back of your neck, fingers brushing against your skin, leaving goosebumps to form beneath their eager caresses, any kind of argument dies on your lips. Resistance melts as if it hadn’t been there in the first place, and all thoughts scatter like butterflies, only landing on the one thing that you care to focus on. 
It’s her, with her teasing lips and wandering hands, that explore and touch you as if she wants to know you, to memorize you, like you’re her well-kept and cherished secret. She is the only thing that surrounds your mind, the only one who holds your attention so easily, and it takes you a moment to shake yourself free of this haze. It’s strange, and euphoric, a kind of feeling that you’ve never felt before, and you find that you like it – instantly craving more the second that her lips leave yours.
She's kissed you plenty of times before, and though it’s always been an enjoyable experience for you, it’s never felt like that. You decide to file that information away for now; you’ll sort out whatever the fuck these new feelings are later. 
When you do come back to yourself, your head nestled against her shoulder, her arms wrapped around you as she looks down at you with warm, soft eyes, you think, yeah, you’ll let her teach you how to swim. You’ll let her do whatever she goddamn pleases, as long as it means that she’ll keep kissing you like that, and bringing out those good kind of butterflies that flutter in your stomach whenever she’s close to you.
*
To your surprise, Ellie makes good on her promise at the earliest opportunity.
In your experience, life is full of making plans and dreams that, more often than not, fall through. Even here, even in Jackson, where the walls are fortified and everyone is protected, the act of planning future endeavours is a luxury.
Spring finally comes , for real this time, with its customary blend of warmer weather that makes everyone instinctively turn their faces towards the sun, tentatively brushing its heat against their skin. And then, in complete juxtaposition, rain that starts in a slight drizzle that quickly descends into a downpour that sends those who’d ventured outside to appreciate the sunlight running back inside, scrambling to find cover, while quietly grumbling that they wish it was summer already, if only so that they could be freed from this topsy-turvy weather. 
Humans are funny like that, you suppose. Never fully able to live in the moment, always wishing for the next season the second spring reveals its more wild side. They forget that the scorching heat of summer will have them complaining and wishing for autumn to come faster in a few months.
Nonetheless, it’s early summer, and you find yourself riding astride Ellie’s mare, Hazel, whose step is light and carefree, tale gently swishing in the warm breeze as you make your way to a clearing with a lake, a few miles out from Jackson’s gates. You’ve taken up the rear position, head resting against your girlfriend's back, arms wrapped around her waist.
From her position, she can’t see the expression on your face, the way you worry. Your bottom lip is between your teeth until it starts to bleed, because quite honestly, you’re nervous. Your instinct is to hide your feelings from her, because it feels silly.  “A tough girl like you all freaked out over a little water?” You can almost hear her snark in your head. Logically, you know she wouldn’t say that, not to you, at least. But you can’t help but wonder if she’d think it. 
You also know, however, that the minute you’re off this horse and she turns to look at you, she’ll read right through any bullshit or lies you come up with in an instant. Ellie’s just that kind of person; able to read right through people without them even having to say a word. So, as the bird chatter accompanies the beat of Hazel’s hooves against the ground, you speak, softly, tentatively, half-wishing that she won’t hear, almost hoping that your words will be carried off in the slight breeze that ruffles the braid against your back, delicately freeing strands of your hair.
“You know, I’m actually kinda fucking scared to do this,” you figure if you’re going to admit this, it’s just best to rip the Band-Aid off. 
She holds the reins one-handed as her other comes to squeeze your wrist gently. 
“Can you tell me why?”
You sigh, feeling your cheeks heat with embarrassment as you rest your chin against her shoulder. She’s so warm and steady, confident and self-assured in a way that you couldn’t even attempt to replicate. 
She senses your unease, moving her thumb beneath the thin material of your sweater, stroking against the skin of your inner wrist. She lets it rest at the point where she feels your pulse lightly fluttering beneath her. 
“Hey.” Her voice is soft, encouraging, “Talk to me, Sweetheart, you’ve got absolutely nothing to be embarrassed about.” 
Her thumb resumes its movement, stroking back-and-forth along the inside of your wrist, soothing away the knot that’s begun to tie itself in your stomach.
“It’s stupid, I know. It’s just, I’m scared that I’m gonna drown, or something dumb like that,” you roll your eyes, feeling a little bit pathetic. 
“It’s not stupid,” you’re not surprised that she’s come to your defence so quickly, but the conviction in her voice gives you pause.
She continues, “I almost drowned, once. Well, I guess it wasn’t almost, I did drown, though I don’t remember the details. It was before Joel had taught me how to swim, probably what made him decide that he had to. But, when he did, it took me the longest time to get over my fear. Every time I so much as touched the water, my mind would bring me back to that moment where I thought I was about to die.”
Her voice is sheepish, nonchalant, but you scoot closer to her on the saddle nonetheless, wrapping your arms just a little tighter around her waist.
“My point is, if you would have seen me when I was fourteen, the way Joel would have to coax me into the water bit by bit, you wouldn’t believe I’m the same person now. Now, I can be assured that whenever I go into the water, nothing’s going to happen to me that I can’t handle.” 
She takes your hand in hers, and her voice is completely serious when she speaks now.
“Baby, you know I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, right?” 
In spite of your nerves, you know the answer to this question immediately. It’s not even a question, really, you know without even having to think about it that she’ll keep you safe, protect you with her life if necessary, and you nod aggressively, even before she finishes speaking.
“I know, Elles.”
She gives your hand a squeeze. 
“Good, because if my 14-year-old freshly traumatized from actually drowning ass can learn how to swim, I am fully confident in your abilities.”
Hazel trots on, and for the first time since you headed out today, you feel a genuine smile pulling the corners of your lips upward, your laughter accompanying the birdsong as you ride on.
*
“That’s it, just lean back into me, I gotcha.”
She’s teaching you how to float on your back, first, and as you lean against her and lower yourself into the water, you swear you feel the peak of one of her nipples, hardened from the cold, poking through the flimsy material of her tank top, brushing against your back as you submerge yourself. You have to fight to keep your expression neutral, trying not to betray anything on your face. If she asks why you’re blushing, you’ll just say it’s because of the heat.
Her hand holds you up, pressing into the small of your back as she instructs you, and it’s nice, the heat that radiates from the warmth of her skin. You feel it through your tank top, and maybe it’s because the water is cold and it’s heightening all of your senses, or maybe it’s because you’re in a pair of underwear and a tank top, feeling very exposed to your girlfriend in a way that you’ve never been with anyone, but you’re getting goosebumps, and you know for a fact that it has nothing to do with you being cold.
You hope to yourself that the feeling of having her hands on you will get easier throughout the day, because for some inexplicable reason, the feeling of her hand pressing against you like this is making it hard to focus on what she’s actually saying.
*
You quickly discover that it does not get easier as the day goes on. 
It actually gets so much fucking harder to bear as the sun begins to sail higher in the sky.
When she’s about to teach you how to kick, her hands ghost over your hips, making you jump. 
“Sorry, hun, I should’ve asked,” she apologizes softly.
You can’t bring yourself to look at her, and have to temper your voice to not sound eager as you respond. “No, you’re good, go ahead, I'm just cold, that’s all.”
When her hands caress your sides before settling against your hips, your teeth sink into the inside of your cheek, trying to contain the gasp that wants to escape. 
Is she truly that fucking unaware of what she’s doing to you? 
The skin where her fingers had trailed over tingles, and you have to give your head a slight shake to clear it, because that touch, regardless of how innocently meant it might’ve been to her, suddenly makes you want to get on your knees and beg her to touch you like that again.
You want more.
*
You learn the mechanics of how to propel yourself through the water, arms and legs separately. When it comes time to put the two together, Ellie eases you onto your stomach. The water is still shallow, your toes can still touch the ground. This was as deep as you’d be going today, she had told you, making you feel relieved.
“I’m just gonna put a hand on your stomach to hold you up. You’re still gonna have my help, I’m right here,” you’re stomach muscles tense when her hand lightly presses against it. She must think you’re nervous, because she gently strokes her thumb up and down between your rib cage, in a way that should be reassuring, but in reality, makes heat radiate from between your legs. You’re grateful that she can’t see your face, because the small pool of wetness that blossoms against your panties is undeniable now, and it makes your cheeks heat.
Okay, so you have to admit it now. You’re horny. In spite of the fact that you’ve never had sex and you haven’t been ready to take that step before today, as you slowly move through the water, feeling her hand pressing against your stomach, so close but so, so far from where you want her to be, you know that you want her, in a way that you’ve never wanted anyone before. 
“At a girl, just like that,” she says encouragingly, and you swear you can feel your thigh muscles clenching involuntarily, thoughts drifting to a very different scenario in which she’d utter those words.
*
It’s late afternoon, the sun is high in the sky, warming your shoulders as you stand in the water. You’ve long ago adjusted to its cool, murky depths, and you’re not on edge anymore. 
At least you weren’t, until Ellie suggests that to finish off the day, you try moving a little bit on your own. Your eyebrows raise, in obvious alarm, and her hands settle on your shoulders, quick to reassure you.
“You won’t have to go far, I’ll be right in front of you, I promise, all you need to do is just keep coming towards me.” 
You tilt your head, considering. Yes, you’ve grown accustomed to the water, but whenever you’ve been moving, she’s always had a hold on you, and you felt safe, knowing that there wasn’t even a chance that you would go under. 
Seeing your still evident hesitation, Ellie steps closer, a hand grazing against your waist as she presses her lips to your forehead briefly, before she speaks, her voice low and teasing against your ear.
“Can you do it for me?” She says softly. Her fingers are tracing slow, enticing circles over your waist, soothing you, but making you feel all worked up at the same time. 
She’s so close that you can feel her lips brush against your ear when she speaks, and you can’t hide the shiver that runs down your spine. You’ve lost the ability to form coherent thought, for the moment, and you have to mentally kick yourself to push your mind back into any semblance of reality. God, if she asks you like that, you’ll do anything.
You don’t say that, though. You only nod meekly, not trusting your voice to be controlled when you speak. 
When her hand gives your hip an appreciative squeeze, you feel her breath ghost against the curve of your neck as she speaks. “Good girl,” she practically purrs, a quiet, low hum against your ear that makes your knees buckle so hard that you have to dig your feet into the sand beneath you so that you don’t faceplant into the water.
When she pulls back, taking slow, tentative steps away from you, she knows that you’re watching her every move. She can feel your eyes burning into her, the further she moves away, nerves making you fidget with the hem of your top. When she’s several metres away, she reaches out a hand, beckoning.
“Okay, c’mere, Baby Girl.” 
Her voice is low, persuasive, encouraging you forward. But it still takes you a solid 30 seconds of anxiously staring at her before you actually begin to move. She stands, arms folded, patiently waiting for you to give in, because she knows that sooner or later, you will.
She’s not that far away, not really. She still would easily be able to reach her arms out, steadying you if somehow, even in this shallow water, you managed to bring yourself under. Still, when you kick back, and you no longer feel the assurance of the soft sand against your feet, or Ellie‘s arm wrapped securely around your stomach to hold you up, you freeze. She notices instantly, and her voice is quick to call you back, bringing your racing heart back down with a few, gentle words.
“Hey, eyes on me.” 
You swim forward, it’s unsure and hesitant, but at least you’re moving. You can’t always keep your eyes on her, but when your head is lowered to the water, you can always hear her voice, which she uses to get you to keep going. 
“That’s it, almost there.” 
She eggs you on, making your limbs instinctively move faster, cutting through the water with an almost desperate urge to get to her. You’re reaching for her, arms ready to wrap around her waist when she meets you halfway, scooping you up into her arms.
“That’s my girl,” she whispers against your lips, cradling the back of your head as she pulls you in. Your eyes flutter shut, and you can’t help the small sigh that she elicits from you as she lowers her head to kiss you. Her lips meet yours in a slow, soft caress, searing as her touch sets your skin alight with heat. Instinctively, only half aware of what you’re doing, your legs wrap around her waist, desperately pulling yourself against her with a sudden need that is too strong to be contained.
When her hand, tangled in your hair, gently pulls, forcing your head back as she deepens the kiss, your mouth falling open as her tongue teases past your lips, you are unable to hold back the little moan that escapes you, scalp tingling at the sensation of her fingers, curled against strands of your wet hair, holding tight, keeping you exactly where she wants you. 
She’s so close, you realize. Your legs wrapped around her like this, your heat pressed so near to hers. It’s enough to send your thoughts reeling. Every nerve ending in your body is alive with want and need. 
Her hand makes a slow path, warm, delicate fingers journeying from your waist all the way up to the peak of your breast, leaving a trail of goosebumps to form in their wake. Her hand rests against you, leaving you warm and wanting, and just when you think that you can’t handle any more, she moves her thumb in a slow, deliberate caress over your perked, hardened nipple, which, at this point, your tank top, with its thin, soaked through material that clings to your every curve, leaves little up to her imagination. She can see you, she can see all of you. Your breath shutters, the smallest sound of want, of need, of desperation escaping your throat in a choked, pleading moan that has your back arching.
And that’s when Hazel makes her displeasure and boredom known, letting out a loud, displeased nay of indignation as she stamps her hooves against the ground.
The noise is so sudden, so out of the blue, disrupting the sounds of the water gently lapping around you, and the ambiance of nature that you’ve grown quite accustomed to hearing over the past few hours, that it makes you both jump. You startle so hard that you nearly fall into the waters below, jolting back as your head whips around to discover the source of the noise. Ellie’s arms are secure, though, you feel her adjusting her hold on you, wrapping them around you tighter. She too frantically searches the area around you for signs of trouble.
When you realize that you’re in no imminent danger, and that it’s just Hazel being her typical, dramatic self, you both look at each other, and simultaneously, slow smiles creep across your faces. She can feel you begin to shake with laughter. All the adrenaline leaves your body in a relieved, sudden rush that escapes with the quiet, barely contained snort that you desperately try to hold back. After that, it’s over. Ellie’s face buries against your hair as you both begin to laugh uncontrollably.
You feel her breathy, relieved sigh ruffle your hair. “We should probably go see what her problem is – knowing Hazel, a mosquito probably landed on her and she freaked the fuck out. God, that horse is such a drama queen.” 
She rolls her eyes, but there’s an underlying affection that she can’t keep out of her voice, even if she tries.
“Probably saw us kissing and was offended. Maybe she’s homophobic,” you quip, chuckling. 
Ellie gasps in mock horror. “I practically raised that horse, there’s no fucking way,” you both laugh as she begins to move towards the shore, you cradled against her with your head on her shoulder.
*
Riding back to Jackson when you’re extremely sexually worked up, it turns out, is no fun. 
Your girlfriend, as much as you love her, is doing nothing to help the situation. 
In general, Ellie prefers to ride horses that are the most chaotic, and that carry attitudes that make them almost borderline untrainable. She says it’s because she can empathize with them, she listens to them in a way that no one else does. 
You think, privately, that it’s because it scares the shit out of Joel. He lives in constant fear that Hazel is going to throw Ellie off, sending his already accident prone daughter home with a broken leg and a concussion. You swear, Ellie enjoys getting a rise out of him, making his heart race with all of the reckless shit that she does.
Hazel has been sitting still for too long, and is now thoroughly enjoying the freedom of being able to trot about; she tries to take advantage of it regardless of the cargo on her back, making for a bumpy ride. 
You’re riding in front, this time, and every time you hit an unavoidable bump, Ellie rests her hands on your hips. She claims that she’s doing it to keep you steady, make sure that you don’t fall off the horse. but, you know better. You know an ulterior motive when you see one. The way that her hands linger, fingers slowly teasing At the edge of your still damp top, drawing slow, light circles against the exposed skin she finds beneath, suggesting that she has other plans in mind. It makes you shiver.
“You cold, baby?” Her voice is low against your ear, the unexpected proximity making you jump. She cannot be serious. Even though it’s late afternoon, evening fast approaching, the day is still scorching, hence why you’ve opted out of wearing your sweater on the way back. You didn’t even want to put on shorts over your damp underwear, but alas, you still had some shred of modesty left, not wanting to make whoever was stationed to guard Jackson’s gates uncomfortable.
When her arms wrap around your waist, pulling you flush against her, you swear that you can feel her hips slowly moving as she grinds against you suggestively. Her lips brush against the bare skin of your shoulder, lingering as her warm breath ghosts against your skin, caressing against your neck with its heat. You can’t hold back your gasp at the feeling.
One of her hands travels down, settling against your knee with a gentle squeeze. 
“How’s that, Baby Girl, is that better?”
God! 
If she doesn’t fuck you soon, you swear you’re gonna kill her. Or, at this rate, she’s gonna kill you first with the way she’s sending your heart racing like that.
*
If you had thought that getting home, changing into a fresh pair of clothes, and giving yourself the chance to calm your racing heart would magically put an end to whatever was stirring up inside of you, you were sadly incorrect in your assumptions.
You’re sitting on the couch in your living room, wearing a sundress that falls to your knees because it’s light and you enjoy the slight breeze that it creates when you move. It flutters around your legs gently in the humid air. It might provide next to no relief at all, but it’s still better than nothing. 
Ellie sits across from you in an armchair. Without even looking, you can feel her staring at you, eyes burning into you with a restrained and tempered want. You suspect that she’s holding it back, now wondering if she’s crossed a boundary today and made you uncomfortable. 
That couldn’t be further from the truth, but Ellie is the type of person who acts on impulse, then completely over analyzes and over thinks her actions later, until she’s convinced herself that she’s fucked something up. She’s so bold, so confident in the things she does in the moment. But, in the end, she’s still someone who sometimes needs you to explicitly communicate and validate what she does after the fact. Regardless of how her confidence is so vast, and can sometimes be mistaken for being cocky, on the inside, she’s deeply insecure and needs reassurance.
Glancing up at her through your lashes, seeing the way that she twists and fidgets with the hair elastic on her wrist, the slight frown on her face, the almost guilty way her eyes flit away from you when she sees you looking, you know that she needs that right now, and you fully intend to not just give that to her, but encourage her forward. 
Setting down the book that you weren’t actually reading, just trying to distract yourself with and completely failing, you rise to your feet, and as you move to her, she looks up at you with a smile, slipping back into its place effortlessly.
“Hey, baby, what’s up?” 
Her voice is low and soft, and the way her eyes skim over you, pausing at where your dress falls, the hem barely skimming your knees, makes heat flush at the back of your neck.
“Want somethin’.” 
You admit, crawling into her lap, bracing your hands on her shoulders.
“Yeah? What’s that?” 
She quirks a brow, and the way her eyes smoulder as she looks at you makes you nervous, stomach fluttering with anxious butterflies as she looks intently at you. 
You’ve got her full attention, and now that you do, you don’t know what to do with it. You were fully ready to take the lead on this, but at the end of the day, you’re still shy and inexperienced, and she’s everything that you’re not. To be honest, it’s intimidating, knowing her wealth of experience that you couldn’t even attempt to match. 
The insistent butterflies take flight in your stomach; you decide that the only way forward is by pure instinct, and the blind hope that you won’t embarrass yourself too much.
You lean forward slowly, hesitating slightly until, with understanding, Ellie’s hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, encouraging you the rest of the way forward until your lips meet hers, and suddenly, you forget exactly what your plan originally was, if you even really had one in the first place. It easily slips out of your mind as you melt against her, effortlessly letting her take the lead. 
Her fingers brush against your lower back, holding you securely against her. This isn’t like your usual, every day kiss, one that starts off slow and gentle. Her lips are insistent, pressing against yours with a desperate, persistent need. Her fingers absently brush against your scalp, running through your hair before cupping the back of your neck, the pressure just firm enough.
All you know is her. Her lips, claiming your mouth with a possessiveness that makes you ache for her inside. Her tongue, swiping over your lips, making you gasp slightly. As your lips part for her, you hear the low, satisfied sound she breathes against you as her tongue pushes past your lips, exploring your mouth with a hunger that you’ve never sensed in her before.
Her thigh pushes between your legs, parting them with ease and settling between them, grazing against your clothed heat. When her hand schemes down your lower back, caressing over your ass, before pressing against it with a firm squeeze, you can’t resist the way your hips buck against her, desperately chasing the friction, unable to hold back the small whimper when you’re clit presses against the rough denim of her cut-offs. 
The sound seems to startle you so much that you still your movements, eyes going wide as Ellie pulls back to look at you. She doesn’t even bother holding back the smirk that overtakes her features.
“Oh, so that’s what you want.” 
Her green eyes darken with want, voice low and gravelly with desire as she studies you, perched on her lap with a needy expression behind your innocent eyes.  Her fingers brush against your hips, teasing over your skin.
Heat flushes against your collarbone, spreading to warm your cheeks as you try to look down, wanting to escape the scrutiny of her piercing gaze. She anticipates your movement, and stops you with a hand coming to curl beneath your chin, making a soft noise of disapproval.
“Look at me, pretty girl, and tell me what you want,” 
Her voice is still soft, still gentle, but there’s a warning edge that’s crept into it, an effortless authority, that sends a jolt straight through you, making your already throbbing clit pulse with anticipation. Her fingers nudge your chin upwards, holding firmly as she directs your eyes to meet hers, smouldering with uncontained lust as she watches you. 
“You.” 
Your answer comes out in barely a breath, barely a whisper. 
“I want you.” 
You feel like your response sounds ridiculous.
It sounds small.
It sounds completely inadequate.
And yet, when Ellie’s hand snakes beneath your dress, fingers toying with the waistband of your panties, her lips brushing against your ear as she says low, “that, sweet girl, I would be happy to oblige.” 
She flexes her thigh up against your heat, rubbing over your swollen clit, making you cry out in surprise.
*
Her shirt hits the floor with a dull thump, pulled off by your eager and curious hands. You want to see her. You want to touch her. You want...
But now that it’s off and she’s looking down at you like that, your brain catches up to your body. What are you doing? What are you supposed to do? You don’t know how to do this. You don’t know where to put your hands, and the idea of fumbling around and embarrassing yourself is enough to make you nervous.
She sees the moment you begin to question yourself and overthink it, in the way that you catch your bottom lip between your teeth, the way your hand flexes, curling into itself with anxiety.  
“Hey,” she says softly, waiting for your eyes to meet hers. Her hands caress up and down the sides of your arms, pulling you from the spiral that your mind was going in, bringing you back to earth with a soothing touch. 
“I know that this is your first time, and I just want you to know that I don’t expect anything of you tonight. The only thing I want is to make you feel good. So just, let me do that, okay?” 
When she leans in, arms wrapping around you, and her lips press against your neck in a slow, seductive kiss, she can feel the shiver that runs down your spine, and she makes a note to remember that you’re sensitive there.
You feel her lips close to your ear as she speaks. 
“Just let me take care of my girl tonight.” 
Her hand schemes down your side, fingers drawing teasing circles over your hip. Your eyes close and your breath comes in a sharp, unsteady inhale and all you can do is look at her, eyes hooded, and say in a shaky voice, “please.”
You feel her low chuckle against your neck. 
“Such pretty manners,” she hums against your skin, before you feel the gentle graze of teeth join her lips, delivering a small, sharp sting that you imagine will leave a mark. 
This thought doesn’t scare you in the way that you thought it would. Your first thought isn’t of how on earth you’re going to cover this up tomorrow. The idea that there will be physical evidence of her, of what she’s doing to you, that there will be a reminder of it in the morning turns you on, sending a thrill through you. 
Her tongue replaces where her teeth had just been, gently soothing over the sting. “Good girl,” she breathes, hand coming up to fiddle with the spaghetti strap of your dress. “I want this off,”
She waits for you to nod your consent, and then she’s sliding the straps off your shoulders, letting it fall. It pools around your waist in a soft brush of its material.
Fingers brush over your stomach, and you shiver with anticipation, already knowing the path they intend to travel over your skin. Her hands graze over your ribs, before she curls them around the curves of your breasts. She looks down at them, cradled in her hands, and her lips curl upward. 
Warm, experienced hands massage and knead your breasts, gentle caresses and squeezes encouraging, coaxing your nipples to harden beneath her touch. Her thumb brushes over one of the hardening buds, and you gasp at even the slightest attention. She seems to relish in drawing sounds from you, her index finger joining her thumb, as she rolls your perked nipple between her fingers, adding the slightest pinch. 
“You’re so fuckin pretty, you know that? The site of these,” she tweaks your other nipple, making your breath stutter, “peeking through your shirt at the lake was teasing me all day.” 
Her face buries against your neck, she becomes rougher, more insistent. Still slow and attentive, but there’s a possessive edge to it as she leaves a trail of marks down your throat, your collarbone. 
You love every second of getting to see this new side of Ellie, one that you haven’t seen before. The way that she’s intently listening to your body, finding out exactly how to touch you in a way  that brings out those little gasps and mules that are like music to her ears, you want to see this side of her more often.
She’s enjoying the sight of her marks on you just as much as you are; a thrill runs through her, knowing that everyone will see that you belong to her.
She pauses toying with your nipple as her hand falls to your thigh, letting her breath graze against your skin, before she leans in, lips encircling the pebbled bud with a gentle suck. You whimper as her teeth barely graze your skin, tongue swirling over the small bud teasingly. She makes an appreciative sound against you while her fingers brush the bare skin of your inner thigh. 
Her thumb teases over the seam of your panties, and you swear that you can feel her lips pull into a smirk as she feels the evident wetness pooling there. When she grazes a knuckle over your clothed clit, using a featherlight touch, your hips instinctively buck, you’re so worked up. 
“Ellie,” your cheeks flush at the way that she’s got you whining for her with just one touch to wear you’ve been craving her to be. “Please, I, I need you to touch me there.” 
“Aww, you’re so pretty when you beg for me,” she coos, two fingers caressing over your heat. 
Your head falls back, eyes closing as you try to suppress the whimper that fights to escape at her teasing.
“Ellie, please,” and if you weren’t trying to beg before, you definitely are now.
She tilts her head, a slightly pleased expression crossing her kiss swollen lips as she looks at you, thoroughly unravelled before she’s even fully gotten you undressed.
“That’s all you had to say, Princess.”
Her voice is low and smooth, calm and effortless, in complete juxtaposition to her next actions, because suddenly, your dress is being yanked the rest of the way down, Ellie tossing it to the floor in a careless heap. She lifts you with ease, flipping you around so that your back is pressed against her bare chest. Her arms curl around you, holding you close to her, fingers trailing down your stomach, scheming over the waistband of your panties. One finger hooks under, and she pauses, voice suddenly soft.
“Can I take these off, baby girl?” Her finger strokes along the bare skin that she’s found beneath your panties, just above your mound, inviting, but not moving lower. 
“Ellie,” you say with growing desperation. She’s teased you all day, and you can’t take much more of it. You’ve reached the end of your rope, and you can tell, without even having to look at her, that she’s fully aware of it, she’s just enjoying teasing you a little longer, dragging out the moment for even just a few seconds more. She’s so close to where you need her, but not close enough, and you need her to bridge the distance. “You can do whatever you want,” your head falls back against her shoulder, auburn hair tickling against your face as she leans down to whisper.
“Don’t give me any ideas, princess. You might regret it.” 
Her words make you shutter, but, nonetheless, she pulls, and in a matter of seconds, she’s sending your panties to join your dress on the floor, with a practiced flick of her wrist.
She doesn’t waste much time now; her hands gently part your thighs. 
“Spread your legs for me, Pretty Girl, I want to see all of you.” 
She coaxes, not that you need much urging. You feel her legs cage over yours, wrapping around them, holding them open for her. Fingers ghost over your curls, dipping between your lips. She collects your wetness, fingers gliding effortlessly up to your clit, coating it in your own arousal. 
“Barely touched you, and you’re already soaked for me,” two fingers press against your swollen clit, drawing slow, easy circles over your heat, already making your walls clench around nothing.
Her other hand moves, pausing to give an affectionate pinch to one of your perked breasts, making you gasp in surprise, your hips instinctively jolting forward, pushing against the hand that continues to massage, tease, and press against your clit. It continues its path downward, caressing over your hip, your inner thigh. 
Long, tapered fingers dip between your folds, tentatively swirling around your entrance, gathering the wetness that’s collected there. You don’t realize you’re begging until, achingly slowly, one of her fingers brushes over your tight, glistening hole. She doesn’t push it forward, only curling it slightly to pet at your entrance. 
“F-fuck, please,” your head falls back against her shoulder, and your hips push forward, trying to take her inside, but to no avail.
“Such a needy girl,” she murmurs, smirking at the way that you nod. 
She’s got you so desperate that you’ll agree to anything she says; you won’t even try to deny it. It would be pointless, anyways. All she has to do is look down and see the way that your hips are bucking against her to know that you would be lying through your teeth. Nonetheless, she gently eases a finger inside you and you let out a long, tremulous breath as she pushes her finger, easing it all the way inside until she’s down to her knuckle.
She’s watching carefully for your reactions and she can feel how tight you are around her; she doesn’t want to cause you any pain. But when she tentatively, curiously, crooks her finger slightly upward, searching, a jolt runs through you, your body trembling and hips jerking forward, chasing the contact. It’s too much, and it’s not enough, and you need more. 
“Fuck, I, Ellie, I I want,” your hands grip onto her thighs tightly. 
She presses a soft kiss to the side of your neck before whispering,“That’s it, baby, use your words. Tell me what you need,” her finger pumps in and out at an unhurried, languid pace, barely grazing over that spot that you so desperately need her to touch. 
“Need more of you inside me,” you whimper, unable to keep the desperate edge from creeping into your voice. A second finger joins the first, slowly pushing through your entrance. You immediately feel the stretch, unfamiliar to having someone else’s fingers there, but you’re quickly distracted, because as soon as both fingers are pushing into you, she increases the pressure against your throbbing clit, fingers drawing rough, tight circles over your swollen bud. 
The sound you make is high and uncontained.
Calloused fingers brush against your inner walls, clenching around them as Ellie stretches you out. Her fingers curl, a slight beckoning motion as she easily finds that spot inside of you. The pads of her fingers press firmly against it, fingers insistently petting at your center with small, precise strokes against your sweet spot. She's hitting that spot in a way that you’ve never been able to accomplish on your own. 
You’re seeing stars, because she’s everywhere you want and need her to be, and now, the only thing you can do is grind your hips down against her fingers that are so effortlessly toying with you. 
It comes out of nowhere, the coil that eagerly begins to tighten in your stomach. Your toes curl with anticipation, and your hands are gripping onto her so tightly. You’re pretty sure that you’re the one who’s going to be leaving bruises now. Her fingers continue to thrust in and out of your weeping cunt, and maintain the relentless pressure against your clit.
Ellie’s chin rests against your shoulder, watching attentively, and if you could see her, you’d see how utterly enthralled she is at how much of a mess she’s made you, eyes heavy as she watches her fingers plunge in and out of your cunt. Her voice is low against your ear, rough, commanding when she speaks.
“That’s it, Baby Girl, I want you to fuck yourself on my fingers and cum for me.” 
You’ve always experienced orgasms as a gradual build, a wave, gently cresting against the shore. So, the way the coil in your stomach abruptly snaps, almost an instant after Ellie finishes speaking, has you taken completely by surprise. She’s attached her lips back onto your neck, sucking a mark just against your pulse point, which she feels fluttering rapidly beneath her tongue. 
There’s the stuttering of hips accompanied by a sharp cry and Ellie feels your walls tighten around her fingers, unceasing in her ministrations even as your orgasm barrels through you. 
“Good girl, fucking give it to me,” she nearly growls, as her fingers continue to fuck you through your orgasm. All you can do is whimper uselessly, rocking your hips against her hand, as thrills ignite every inch of your body, making you tremble all over. 
When you come down from your high, you’re collapsed against her chest, and she’s slowly easing off the pressure. 
The first thing you notice is that you don’t feel the same as you usually would if you had just done this by yourself. For some reason, you thought that you were a one and done kind of girl. Usually you orgasm once, and then you take a nap, feeling for the most part satisfied. But as her fingers slide out of you, leaving you feeling empty, all you can think is that you want more.
Then, Ellie’s holding up her glistening fingers, slick with your arousal, in front of her face. You turn to watch her, curious, as she slides them into her mouth, licking them clean. She hums, and you raise a brow questioningly as she looks down at you, her eyes bearing an expression that is almost predatory in its intensity.
“What?” you ask, already feeling goosebumps rising along your skin.
“Nothing,” she shrugs, shaking her head slightly. “It’s just, now that I’ve had a taste of you, I want more.” You turn fully to face her, lips curving into a smirk. Your hand trails over her breasts, and she looks at you with interest.
“Please,” you’re still breathless, and your voice is still unsteady.
“I want you too.”
*
“Atta girl, just like that.” 
Admittedly, as much as you’ve had countless fantasies involving sitting on Ellie’s face, the prospect of actually doing it, as much as you want to, gives you pause. She’s carried you up to the bed, at some point along the way, the rest of her clothes came off, you’ll probably find them scattered along the hallway later. But that doesn’t matter right now.
What matters is that you’re hovering over her face, looking down at her while trying not to look nervous and out of your comfort zone, which you totally are, and she obviously isn’t buying it. Gentle hands reach for you, holding your hips and pulling you against her easily. 
“All the way down, Honey, that’s it,” she coaxes, easing you down onto her. “You’re good, you’re not gonna kill me,” her hand caresses up and down your side, soothing, even as you feel her warm breath ghosting over your heat, making your cheeks flush, as you look down at how close she is to you.
“I gotcha’, Pretty Girl, just relax,” her voice is smooth, assured, confident, in a way that makes your muscles relax in spite of yourself.
That’s when you feel her tongue, warm and wet, brushing through your folds. The sensation is so new, so unfamiliar to you, that for a second, you freeze, your breath catching in your throat. 
Then, her tongue flattens, pressing over your clit and applying a slight pressure that has you arching against her. Her tongue curls over your swollen nub, gently drawing it towards her lips, an almost imperceptible pulling motion that has your hands scrambling for something to hold onto, finding a grip against the headboard of the bed.
She makes a contented hum as her lips wrap around your center, the sound vibrating against you making your hips jolt. Her hands curl around the undersides of your thighs, holding you in place. Your hands hold onto the headboard of the bed for dear life, feeling like it’s the only solid thing that you have to hold onto, keeping you from toppling over the edge and out of control. 
You’ve never felt like this before. Each swipe of her tongue over your heat, the gentle pulse of her lips as she sucks, enveloping you in her warm, wet mouth, brings a new sensation thrumming through your veins, almost akin to fire as it shoots through you, pleasure licking over every inch of your skin like flames. It’s overwhelming, in such a way that you don’t know what to do with it, how to express it. 
All you can do, at this point, is roll your hips against her mouth, hold onto the headboard, and let small, desperate whimpers escape your lips. You’re trying to hold onto some semblance of containing yourself, because you don’t know what would happen if you let yourself unravel completely. You’re terrified of what Ellie might see if you fell apart like that.
She seems to be doing everything she can to break away at your composure though. Her tongue is alternating between dragging slow, tender circles over your clit, and firm, quick strokes, that has your head falling against your hands, braced against the headboard. She flicks her tongue against you, her lips surrounding your clit in a particularly firm suck, and before you know it, you’re spilling over the edge, eyes shut tightly, and breath releasing in a long, shuttering moan that seems to run from the top of your head to the tips of your tightly curled toes, her tongue continuing to caress you over your peak.
She moans into you, and it all becomes too much. Your head is thrown back and your hands are reaching down, tangling in her hair, to push her away or pull her closer; it’s unclear in your fuzzy mind. All the while, her insistent tongue continues to swirl over your increasingly oversensitive bundle of nerves, the relentless and inescapable pleasure making you shiver all over, while a light sweat breaks out on your bare skin.
You only drift back into yourself when you become aware of a shift. It’s so fast, you barely have time to even blink, before Ellie manoeuvres you, flipping you onto your back and roughly parting your thighs with her hands. Her fingers run through your glistening folds, calloused thumb pressing against your aching, overstimulated clit. The sensation has you gasping, crying out, and trying to close your legs, buck your hips, move away.
Frantically, you try to jam your legs shut, trying to escape her mercilessly teasing fingers. Rough hands force your thighs apart, putting you on display for her as she holds you open. 
“Uh uh, not this time, Baby,” she tuts disapprovingly. “No more holding back on me, Sweet Girl,” listening to the low, dominant tone of her voice is like a drug to you, and your eyes roll back into your head as she speaks. 
“I want everyone to know how good I fuck this pretty little pussy.” Two fingers circle your clit and you jolt, trying to move away. But a strong arm pushes your hips down, pinning you against the bed easily.
Faster than you can process, her fingers retreat, and you don’t even have time to feel relieved, because a split second later, her hand comes down against your cunt with a smack, delivering a stinging, rough spank that has you crying out, clit throbbing and pulsing with the agonizingly delicious mix of pain and pleasure. 
“Now, you’re gonna be a good girl, and you’re gonna take everything I give you.” 
Two fingers notch at your entrance, but she waits, looking at you, a silent question, an invitation for you to tell her that this is too much and that you need to stop. You know she would in a heartbeat if you told her that this was too much or too rough for you right now, and that’s what makes you feel safe enough to continue.
So, when you respond by attempting to push your hips forward against her, a soft whimper falling from your lips, she smirks, and with the slightest movement of her wrist, her fingers thrust into you. Seconds later, her face is buried in between your legs, tongue gently lapping at your sensitive clit. After two orgasms, you’re hyper aware of every movement; every swirl of her tongue is sweet, hot agony that undoes you in seconds.
At the same moment her lips take your clit into her mouth, holding it as her tongue swipes a tight, rough circle over your heat, her fingers curl, and she finds that spot inside you that makes your legs begin to shake, pressing against it with each punishing thrust of her fingers. 
Your moans are loud, unrestrained, sounds that you would be embarrassed to make if you were in any way capable of controlling them. But you’re not, because your mind is only filled with her, her and her tongue on your clit, and her strong fingers pumping in and out of your wet cunt, playing with you as easily and as effortlessly as she plays the guitar. 
She’s clearly enjoying the sounds that fall from your lips, every beg and plea and moan of her name making her feel quite smug that she’s undone you so easily…she encourages you to continue, making a contented hum against your clit. She only looks up long enough to say:
“That’s it, I want to hear you being such a dirty little girl for me.”
A third finger slowly, carefully, pushes in; the stretch makes you feel so full, so good, it nearly takes your breath away. Her fingers thrust in and out slowly, testing the waters, wanting to make sure that you’ve adjusted – but you are having absolutely none of it.
Your head is thrown back and your hips are thrusting forward, or trying to, but her arm is so fucking strong that she doesn’t even have to try that hard to keep you pinned against the mattress, exactly where she wants you to be.  You don’t even realize you’re begging until you see her smirking up at you.
“Please, Ellie, please, fuck, I-I want,” it’s a challenge to even string coherent words together, but you’re distracted by her face, now looking up at you as her thumb takes over, stroking against your clit. 
“Come on, Baby girl, tell me what you want,” she presses her thumb a little harder into you, making you gasp brokenly. 
You take a breath to steady yourself, and your words still come out stuttered, but you say them, blushing in a way that she finds absolutely endearing considering you’re already spread out on her bed with three of her fingers buried inside of you.
“I-I want it harder,” you admit, your cheeks burning. “Want you to fuck me.”
“You’re so fuckin pretty when you use your words like that, Baby,” she praises. “Such a good fuckin girl,” then, her fingers are thrusting in and out, setting a rough pace, hitting that spot in a way that feels so much stronger than it already was. 
When she lowers her head, tongue dipping between your folds, returning to feast at your clit rough, persistent swirls and flicks over your swollen center, any slight ability to contain yourself is lost. You’re not aware of the sounds that you’re making, or the way that your hands scramble to find a hold on something, anything solid, eventually coming to clutch the soft bed sheets, holding them tightly in between your fingers.
You’re only aware that your orgasm is approaching, and that Ellie, little by little, is nudging you towards a peak that once you make it over, you think might absolutely wreck you, in the best possible way. All you know is that you want this, you want her. You need her.
God.
You really fucking need her. 
She feels your walls beginning to flutter around her, her free hand shifts down, coming to grip your thigh, opening you even wider for her.
 “Come on, baby, wanna hear all those pretty sounds you make for me when you cum.” 
She says against you, adjusting her wrist to fuck you with her fingers deeper. The new angle has you keening, hips desperately thrusting to chase the friction of whatever new spot she’s hitting. 
Her tongue flattening against you as she draws firm, tight circles over your bundle of nerves, The way that your back is arching, hips uselessly trying to grind down against her and her relentless fingers, fucking into your weeping cunt mercilessly.  She’s guiding you exactly to where she wants you to go, straight up towards that peak. Your vision blurs. 
“Fucking give it to me, Pretty Girl, want you to cum for me, all over my fingers and my mouth.” 
Your back arches off the bed, and suddenly, all you know is wave after wave of ecstasy that crashes through your body, electric shocks that pulse through you, making you jolt and flail uselessly combined with the rhythmic pumping of her fingers, and the dipping and swirling of her tongue against you. 
She works you through your orgasm, never slowing the movements of her tongue or her fingers that continue to drag in and out of you, sustaining your pleasure for as long as she can possibly hold it. Her lips wrap around your clit, as her tongue swipes through your folds, collecting all the wetness that she can find. She hums against you, encouraging your loud moans, and by the time it’s over, you’re a shaking, completely fucked out mess on her bed, 
If you happened to see the expression on her face as she watches you writhing beneath her, your hands twisting the sheets into knots and broken, unrestrained whimpers fall from your lips, she’s taking in the sight with immense appreciation, as if you’re the work of art she’s just created.
*
Turns out, the only thing that you have the ability to do post-three orgasms is roll over onto your stomach, shaking and trembling, and try, desperately, to regain your breath. 
Ellie, for her part, crawls up the bed beside you, hand coming up to tenderly stroke back the hair that sticks to your forehead, before gently rubbing your back.
“Easy, baby, that’s it, just breathe for me.” 
You’re eventually able to regain your breath, but your body feels floppy and light, and you can’t even begin to comprehend the slightest of movements. Ellie tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, saying softly, “I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna get something to clean you up, okay?”  
You nod in slight acknowledgement of her words, but your mind is still fuzzy, and the only thing that you’re really aware of right now is the sudden sleepiness that comes over you in a soft, comforting wave. You feel her stroke your hair once more before she rises from the bed, briefly pausing to look at how fucked out you are, stretched out across her bed, bare skin glistening with sweat that makes your hair stick to your forehead, eyes heavy and cheeks flushed.
“So pretty,” she breathes, before exiting.
She isn’t gone long, and when she returns your eyes are closed, head buried against a pillow. She kneels between your legs, hand reaching out to gently rub your back as you turn your head to look at her. 
“Just need to clean you up, pretty,” she whispers, and you realize how sticky you are in between your legs. 
“Okay,” you mumble, your voice sounding slightly hoarse, similar to the way it does when you first wake up in the morning. Were you really moaning that much?
You feel a warm, damp washcloth brushing against your inner thigh. It’s nice, soothing, but as Ellie moves towards the place in between your legs, you instinctively flinch, overstimulated and slightly sore. 
A large hand splays out over your back gently. “I know, Honey, it’s okay, I've got you,” Ellie soothes. 
She runs the cloth over your folds. “There we go, sweet girl, almost done.” Its brush against your clit makes you cry out, leg kicking out instinctively. Ellie shushes you gently, pressing chased, featherlight kisses against your spine, the curve of your hip, effectively distracting you while she finishes cleaning you up. 
When she’s done, she throws the cloth to the side, coming to sit beside you. “Okay, Baby, I just need you to get up and go for a quick pee.” You turn your head to look at her in bewilderment, staring up at her with your eyebrows raised.
“Why?” You ask, confused. She chuckles softly at your expression. 
“Because, nowadays there isn’t much to protect ourselves from any infections that we could pick up while doing this,” she gestures vaguely. “And this is the one thing that we can do to at least try to help prevent something from coming up,”
“Buuut Elliee, I don’t wanna get up,” you grumble, burying your face back into the pillow.
She sighs softly, “come on, it’ll be fast, and then we can get back into bed and cuddle for as long as you want.” 
That idea is tempting, but she could just get into bed with you right now and cuddle. Plus, you want to know who gave her this information, because it sounds pretty fucking stupid to you. 
“I don’t want to,” you grumble.
Ellie playfully hits you with a pillow. “Come on, Lazy Ass,” she’s guiding you to sit up now, in spite of how much you’re resisting, because the bed is so warm and soft. 
“Besides,” she reasons, “we both go out on patrol in three days, and I am not dealing with you having to dismount your horse every five minutes because you got a urinary tract infection and now you need to pee every time we hit a bump on the path.” 
You dramatically sigh in defeat. “Okay, okay, I get it, Jesus Christ,” you roll your eyes in mock exasperation, but the smile pulling at your lips betrays your true feelings. “On one condition,” you say, folding your arms across your chest.
“What?” Ellie is fighting to restrain a smile, because you’re just too goddamn cute when you’re like this.
“You have to carry me there and back,” you say, reaching your arms up like a child who wants to be picked up. 
She sighs, feigning annoyance, but she’s already positioning an arm beneath your knees. “You’re such a fucking brat,” she mutters against your hair as she cradles you against her chest. 
You snuggle into her, smile growing wide as she moves towards the door, holding you in her arms. “Don’t lie, you love it.”
“Shut up ,” she says, hand sneaking around to give your ass an affectionate squeeze, making you gasp and giggle in surprise, instinctively kicking, nearly falling out of her arms in the process. But her hold is secure, arms tightening around you as your cheek presses against her shoulder.
“Don’t worry, babe, I got you.”
*
After gently setting you back in bed, once you’ve finally gone to the bathroom, grumbling the whole way there and back, Ellie went to get you a glass of water. She’s been gone for less than 30 seconds, and you already miss the feeling of her body, Strong and warm and steady, pressed against you. While she’s gone though, you entertain yourself by letting your eyes roam over your body, finding the evidence of her, left behind on your skin. You discover each new mark, each trace of her presence imprinted on you with the anticipation and joy of a child finding Easter eggs. 
Your hand runs over your inner thigh, Lips pulling into a smile as you take in the sight of the finger shaped bruises that she left from where she gripped onto you so tightly. The site makes a warm, tingling feeling settle in your stomach.
You don’t hear her approach from behind you, and she must not see the expression on your face.
“Did I hurt you? Was it, was it too much?”
You turn, eyebrows raised and already shaking your head with vehemence, to find her watching you, biting her lip, concerned frown on her face. 
“What, no, no, Ells, it’s just,” you avert your eyes, the blush creeping onto your face is mortifying, and in spite of everything you too just did, and how you had expected talking about things like this would be easier now, it’s still hard to admit it out loud. 
She catches your chin in her hand, gently redirecting your eyes back up to meet hers. Seeing her so close to you, you don’t have to look hard to see the anxieties, trying to be contained and hidden, but dancing behind her eyes nonetheless. 
You feel your heart clench. She’s opened up to you about her past on a few occasions, but when she has, it was easy to sense how fearful she was of her own inclinations towards violence, regardless of how necessary and imperative it might have been for her survival. She’s like a fire, impulsive and easy to set off, her flames all-consuming without a second thought. But after, even now, even when all this is small bruises marking your skin in the heated passion of lust, that will fade and be gone within a few days, she’ll still twist herself into knots, thinking and overthinking until she’s convinced herself that she’s ruined you.
“Please, Babe, tell me the truth,” her voice is soft, barely a whisper, but you hate the way that there’s a slight tremble in it, so uncharacteristic of Ellie. It breaks what’s left of your embarrassment, and the words fall from your lips without hesitation now.
“It wasn’t too much. It’s just, I-I liked it...the marks... I think it’s kind of hot.” 
You wonder, in the back of your mind, if she can feel the way your cheek heats beneath her hand, resting against it ever so lightly. Her breath comes out in a soft, surprised laugh, and you’re relieved to see the concerned edges fade from her expression, a smirk instead overtaking her lips. “
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she whispers, fingers coming to trace over the scattered marks, littered across your neck and collarbone. 
“You’re cold,” she observes, hands running up and down your arms, goosebumps beginning to form there. You hadn’t even noticed that you had begun to shiver.
When she crawls into bed behind you, wrapping her arms around you, Holding you against her, her warmth settles into your bones, running through you like melted chocolate. She brings the glass of water to your lips, insisting that you drink, and refusing to back down, in spite of your protests that you’ll need to get up to go pee in the middle of the night and does she realize how annoying that is? 
She does, but she still coaxes you to drink half the glass.
You hold the glass up to her, pouting slightly. “Now you drink some, I feel like you should, too, because you were doing a lot of work, you know, with your mouth,” you say suggestively. 
“Oh my God, shut up,” she groans. She gives you a playful shove that nearly makes the glass tumble from your hand. But she has quick reflexes, and her hand is steady against yours as she gently grabs your wrist, preventing the spill.
“Careful, Hun,” she cautions, plucking the glass out of your hand easily. “If only to appease you,” she sighs dramatically, before tipping it back and draining the glass.
The inevitable crash that you hadn’t, but probably should’ve, anticipated hits you all at once. It starts with a sigh that quickly turns into a yawn that seems to take all of your energy with it. You move to shrug your shoulders, brush it off like it’s nothing, because honestly, it’s only just starting to get dark outside, you can’t go to sleep right now, it’s just too early.
Your bones feel oddly heavy, sore in a way that shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. Adrenaline, and passion have temporarily blinded you to trivial things, like being a human and having a body that can get physically exhausted, especially after trying so many new things at once. You wince because fuck, you hadn’t realized how tense you had been holding yourself today until now, and the consequences are quickly setting in. 
She’s watching you, observing you closely as she always does. She doesn’t say a word, but she intuitively understands.
She brushes your hair off to one side, and you shiver as your bare neck and shoulders are exposed to her. Warm hands settle over your shoulders, there’s a gentle squeeze, an unspoken question, an offering. The way your head falls forward, the low, contented noise that falls from your lips is all the ascent that she needs.
Her thumbs gingerly press into the tense muscles beneath them. She hums sympathetically, feeling how tender you are beneath her. She keeps her movements slow and precise as she presses her thumbs against you, applying a slight pressure, running them over the backs of your shoulders, gently encouraging the tension to release. She’s ceaselessly patient, only continuing her path upward when she can feel your muscles relax, giving into her ministrations.  
She continues to massage across your shoulders and your upper back, seeming to find and undo tension in places that you didn’t even realize you were carrying. It makes you sleepy, the gentle caress of her hands gliding over your skin, paired with the firm press of her knuckles, exactly where you need it.
One of her hands slowly runs up the back of your neck, gently cupping you at the base of your skull.  Her fingers smooth over your temples, stress easing away as your eyes flutter shut.  Her other hand continues to press and massage in between your shoulder blades, firm and insistent as she smooths her thumbs over the tight knot that’s gathered there, with patient persistence, making it unravel at her touch, and forcing the tension to leave your body. 
“Relax, Pretty Girl, I’m not going anywhere,” her voice is a low rumble against your ear. 
Her lips brush over one of the bruises she’s left on the side of your neck, and suddenly, it’s like all the tension bleeds out of you, draining so quickly that you don’t have time to catch yourself.
She laughs softly as you try to contain the yawn that tears through you as she eases you back towards the pillows. She wraps a soft blanket around both of you, covering your bodies and making sure you’re tucked in securely. 
She settles in behind you, warm, bare skin pressing against yours as she curls herself around you. A strong arm wraps around your waist, gently tugging you close to her as her leg hooks over yours. 
You’re barely awake, only aware enough to snuggle into her, saying sleepily, “if this is the treatment I’m going to get after one swimming lesson, what are you gonna do when I’ve mastered it?”
There’s a soft chuckle, low against your ear as she whispers, “don’t worry about that, pretty girl, I’m sure you’ll find out soon enough.” 
She kisses the top of your head, lingering for a moment as she adoringly watches your eyes flutter. You sigh with contentment, letting a sleepy smile graze over your lips. Maybe she doesn’t realize what she’s doing, maybe she isn’t even aware…but, in this moment, you’re surrounded by her. 
Her safety.
Her warmth .
Her unconditional and unwavering love is curled around your heart as closely as she’s curled herself around you. She’s here, she’s safety, she’s love,and right now, she is all that you could ever want.
-
this was actually my first attempt at writing smut, and in spite of how nervous I am to share it, I’m actually really happy with how it turned out. So if you enjoyed it, please let me know, notes, comments, and re-blogs are so appreciated. Thank you so much for reading
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notjustjavierpena · 4 months
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Late Night Feelings
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A/N: Hey people, my first fic in a while. Hubby will be back soon but be patient.
Summary: Lucien enjoys phone sex with you… his ex who is in a relationship.
Pairing: Lucien Flores x f!reader/you (no y/n)
Tags: +18 smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, verbal humiliation, infidelity 
Word count: 2k
Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/55842253
Late Night Feelings
It is like clockwork by now. Lucien has made a ritual out of it and set up a routine for himself. He waits with his phone lying next to him on the couch, a box of tissues nearby, and a beer bottle, half-drunk, on the coffee table in his living room. He is already hard and aching in his underwear from the anticipation and knowledge of what will come, already without his usual slacks on and with his shirt unbuttoned to expose his beating chest. 
You should have called him by now, so why haven’t you? He impatiently shifts a little on the spot. To distract himself, he takes another sip of his beer and drums his fingers on his thigh to not think about the iron grip you have around his balls. 
You have had him in the palm of your hand like this for almost two months now. You call once a week, every Wednesday after your boyfriend has gone to bed, and then you beg him to talk you through it and remind you of how he used to fuck you when you were together. The first time around, you had said that he was the only one who knew your pussy well enough to do it and his ego soared above the clouds. 
Lucien knows it is wrong but the forbidden nature of what you are doing makes him have the best jerk-off sessions of his life. He doesn’t care about your motives, can’t be bothered to even ask because it is none of his business and he gets to come. People suck and fuck, it is in their nature, so he has no intention of playing the detective.
He adjusts himself in his briefs as an excuse to touch himself, hissing bitterly as time goes by without you, and he cannot keep himself from palming his cock through the straining fabric. He lets his head fall backward on the back of the couch, a groan slipping past his lips as he starts touching himself on top of his underwear. Steadily, a patch of his precome forms on the front because you are dancing naked and sexy behind his lids in his mind. 
The phone ringing nearly has him coming from the surprise because he has worked himself to the edge without even holding his dick in his fist. He swears under his breath, removing his hand to frantically search for his phone on the sofa only to find that it has slipped into the space between the two cushions. 
He answers with annoyance, “Where the fuck have you been?”
“Got held up,” you don’t apologize. He notices your ragged breathing almost immediately, can almost feel it against his ear and through the receiver. You are panting a little, probably flustered, cute, and wet from having been denied him like he has been denied you.
“Started without me?” He asks with a shit-eating grin, clenched fist lying along his side despite wanting to finish the handjob he was imagining you giving him.
“Not exactly,” you say without elaborating and the water in your shower turns on in the background. It is different from your usual pattern. Usually, you use the toy that you keep in bathroom drawers next to your hairdryer. 
Lucien narrows his eyes in suspicion. When you refrain from answering a second too long, his eyes widen when he figures it out.
“You little whore,” he smiles into the phone after the initial shock settles. In his underwear, his cock moves involuntarily at the thought of how used and desperate your pussy must be now, “You’re freshly fucked, aren’t you?”
“Stop,” you whimper with shame at his crude words.
“So how was he? And why do you even need me?” He pushes your patience, gives in to temptation, and lifts his hips to shove his briefs down over his thighs. His cock springs free and stands in the air in its touch-starved state, the head reddened from having been edged once.
You are silent for a moment but then sigh in defeat, sounding annoyed but it can only be with yourself from the words that leave your mouth and stroke Lucien’s ego dangerously, “He was fine but he can’t make me come.”
“That’s what I thought,” he says triumphantly, squeezing around the base of his excited cock. He gets comfortable on the couch, scooting towards the edge a little, “So tell me what you need, baby. Are you getting out the toy?”
“No, I need to clean up,” you tell him. He groans when he realizes you are probably naked on the other end of the line, most likely dripping with your boyfriend’s come - you always liked getting creampied when you were with him - and feeling horny out of your mind because your boyfriend has left you unsatisfied. He’d never do you dirty like that; clit throbbing with the need to get its sweet release, blood rushing through your lower body until it aches and has you squeezing your thighs together. 
“Tell me what you’re doing,” he orders to find out exactly how far you are in your session, not wanting to start without you in case he comes too soon. He hears you stand in the tub to detach the shower head from the wall. 
“Using the shower head,” you say simply and he spots a bead of precome running down the side of his dick, “It’s quick and easy.”
“So you have that in common,” he smiles at the scoff you let out, hearing the sound of water hitting the bottom of the tub while you move to lie down on your back. He dares a few strokes to his cock, his heartbeat all over his body, “You make it so difficult to wait. Need to hear you.”
“Gimme a moment,” you reply and there’s more shuffling, “There’s actually a lot at risk taking my phone with me in he— mhm…”
Lucien nearly loses his mind at your soft moan. He squeezes his cock again, wanting to tell it to calm down like he would a happy and excited dog. He breathes your name slowly. 
“Talk me through it,” he demands as he touches himself carefully, “Fuck, I’m so hard.”
“I’ve turned on— oh god, the jet stream,” you sigh in satisfaction, giggling a little like all his snark is forgiven now that pleasure starts flowing through you, “It’s so good, I wish you could feel it.”
Lucien swears under his breath, moving his hand languidly up and down his cock until his pelvis starts moving involuntarily. How he misses being inside of you, feeling you giggle like that when he gets you in the mood. He had never imagined that it would be hearing you use the shower head to come that would make him all nostalgic. 
“You are so fucking adorable when you get your clit played with,” he muses with a slightly breathless voice. 
“And I still smile when I come,” you say and he tenses up when the image flashes in his head. It doesn’t help when you moan a little louder, “It’s really intense.”
“How the hell are you doing that?” He groans. He strokes a little faster, trying not to get lost in the relief that it brings to finally get himself off in case he doesn’t concentrate properly.
“It’s just moving the stream up and down on my clit,” you explain, breathing heavily into the receiver, “The water feels warm and— oh, Luce.”
“And?” He almost gasps for breath by now, heart slamming against his ribs. 
“And then I just hold it steady when I’m just about to—“ you are interrupted by a sudden loud moan and he knows that you have moved the stream to your center, letting the water pound down on your clit until you cannot help lifting your hips towards more. 
He cannot help himself; his imagination goes wild. It wasn’t supposed to happen so quickly and he almost wants to mourn that it’s almost over. He speaks filth as his cock throbs from teetering on the edge together with you.
“Is the orgasm I’m giving you gonna make that little pussy cry?” He asks with a mocking tone, a moan slipping from his lips as pleasure starts to build at the bottom of his spine. He can see your pussy in his head, spasming with each excited jump of your clit, “You gonna spill his come all over the bathtub?”
“I’m giving me this orgasm,” you correct him during your climbing cries, panting into the phone and he starts going faster on his dick to meet you there. Fuck, he loves coming alongside you. 
“Bullshit. Say I’m the best you’ve ever had,” he barks out and follows it up with a desperate swear, reaching up to focus on the head so he doesn’t have to move his hand a lot. He closes his eyes and he can see you, brows furrowed and eyes rolling back as if you are possessed by pleasure. 
“You’re the best I’ve ever had,” you don’t even hesitate to respond. He can hear that you have started to hold your breath, gasping for air every few seconds, and he knows you’ll come even if you didn’t announce it like you always do for him.
“I’m gonna—“ you gasp again and he knows you’re concentrating on getting there. Another gasp and he knows you are quivering, “Gonna come. Fuck, Luce, I’m gonna come. Gonnacomegonnacomegonnacome, I— ah!”
He remembers what your face is like when you peak - that dirty little smile that turns into furrowed brows - and the image of the last time he had you on your back with him pops into his head. He can’t contain himself anymore, hearing you sob through the water cascading down on your swollen clit, knowing your thighs are tense, and your cunt is pushing out the last evidence of another - more unworthy - man. His balls draw up, his dick throbs and then he grunts a fuuuck as come shoots from the tip of his dick. He strokes himself through it, timing it with each spurt of white from his cock until he has milked himself dry and he grows so sensitive that he has to stop.
“All I have to do is ask you, isn’t it? Then you’d leave him,” he taunts you as you both come down from your orgasm, breathing softly against each other’s ears through the receiver. You usually hold a hand over your mound as you relish in aftershocks, sometimes daring to touch your overstimulated clit to see if it’s all over. 
“Luce,” you drag out his name with a breathy moan and he knows you are doing exactly what he imagined. There’s a hint of annoyance in your tone because how dare he remind you of such a true fact? 
“What?” He challenges, pulling a few tissues out of the box on his coffee table. He has the phone neatly tucked between his shoulder and head as he wipes himself down and tries not to hiss at the sensitivity, “Don’t deny it.”
“Fuck you,” you say bitterly, “I’m hanging up the phone now.”
“You want it so badly,” he continues to taunt. He throws the crumpled tissues onto the coffee table (he’ll clean it up later), “Why don’t you break up with your little boyfriend and then come over so I can get you fucking pregnant?”
“Lucien,” you say his name sharply, “Stop it. I can’t do that.”
“I would stop if that’s what you really want,” he replies, amused. He loves shocking you. 
You fume quietly on the other end, “I’ll call you next week.”
He doesn’t manage to answer with some other bratty remark as the line disconnects. However, he isn’t worried because he knows you will… and he knows he is right.
.
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