#the little rough edges make it so endlessly charming | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

genshin-no-simp · 3 years

Text

Diluc x Reader (Smut)

Pairing: Diluc x You/Reader (Female)

6.4k words below the cut.

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You liked Kaeya, a lot. And everybody knows it, including the blue haired Captain himself. You tried not to make it so obvious but when Kaeya flirted on with you it was hard trying not to fawn over him.

Currently you were sat in Angel's Share, happily chatting away with Diluc who was behind the bar tonight. You enjoyed his company even if he was a bit rough around the edges. That's what made him so charming, you thought.

"You think Kaeya likes me too?" You asked the red head, who shrugged his shoulders in response while polishing the wine glass.

"It's hard to say but I think so?" For Diluc it was hard watching the woman he fell in love with go on about another man. But he wanted you to be happy even if it wasn't with him. Because for him seeing your smile and happy face was enough for him.

"Hmm okay. I was only wondering since he asked me what my favourite flowers were the other day." You smiled softly at the memory.

"Well it's certainly a possibility..." Diluc couldn't help but frown and feel a tad bit jealous. He wanted to know what your favourite flower was too. Just as he was about to ask, the door to the tavern opened and in came the devil himself along with a woman clung to his side, holding a bouquet of cecilias. Diluc could piece together what's happening.

"(Y/N), don't turn around." He spoke softly, despite the anger seering through him.

You looked at him nervously, "W-why?" You asked in equal softness. What was behind you.

"Ah (Y/N)!" Kaeya cheerily called out. Your heart leaped out of your chest in delight and you spun around to greet him.

"(Y/N)." Diluc wanted to reach out and stop you but it was far too late. Besides its not like he could've done anything to keep you from knowing.

You felt you heart drop at the sight. Who was this woman? Why was she clinging to his arm and why did she have a bouquet of your favourite flowers. Kaeya caught your stare and smirked a little.

"Ah this is my girlfriend?" Kaeya stated ever so casually.

It was as if your world had come crashing down on you. And though you wanted to run away and cry, you held strong and pulled your best smile.

"Aww, that's great. I'm happy for you. Despite the overwhelming saddness you felt, you were happy for him.

...who were you trying to fool? You weren't happy at all. For anyone. Especially that bitch.

You turned away from them, picking up your glass that had been empty since before this perdicament. You sighed feeling even worse, you just wanted to drown your sorrows away. You could feel your eyes burn with tears as you gazed at the bar counter. As you chewed on the inside of your lip, Diluc slid a fresh glass of wine to you.

"Thanks," you forced a smile.

"Don't worry about it." It was the least he could do to try and cheer you up.

That certainly was unexpected. Diluc looked over to the table that now occupied Kaeya and his supposed girlfriend. Who even was she? Diluc didn't regconise her, and he knows everyone in Mondstadt. From what Diluc could deduct, Kaeya was acting no different than usual. He didn't even look as if he wanted to be with that women. So just what was he up to? Regardless of what it was, Diluc knew it wasn't going to be good.

After a while you couldn't stand how happy that girl was. Laughing and giggling like that, it was like she was doing it on purpose to piss you off.

It should be you! You stood from your seat at the bar and fished into your pocket.

"It's fine, (Y/N)." Diluc shook his head. He wasn't about to take money from you, when you hadn't been ordering. He's been the one giving you drinks on the house.

"Oh no, I couldn't Diluc." You continued to rummage through your pocket.

"(Y/N), it's okay. You just head home." He gave you a gentle smile. There was something about it that made you smile back even though you didn't want to.

"I appreciate it." You said your goodbyes with Diluc and didn't stop yourself from taking one final look at Kaeya. You regret doing so when you saw him kiss her hand.

Little did you know, he had planned that. He was watching you the entire time, waiting for the right moment.

When you got into the comfort of your bed, you cried. And you cried till you had fallen asleep. When you had woken up the next morning, the headache you had was unreal but it didn't come close to the ache in your heart. Well heartbroken or not life must go on and you had work to do. It was spring now and the tailors you worked at was getting in the spring stock. You had to be there earlier than usual to help set up shop. This would be a good way to distract yourself from Kaeya.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It has been two weeks since you last saw the Cavalry Captain. Safe to say you avoided all his usual spots, and just when you thought you were over him, he pops out of nowhere.

"Well look who it is. I haven't seen you in a while. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were purposefully ignoring me." Kaeya smiled but it seemed to only darken his facial features.

"Of course not. I've just been super busy with work. I haven't even been to the tavern in a while." You giggled hoping he wouldn't question you.

While it wasn't a lie, you were busy with work, especially now in spring a lot more people came in for custom orders. But you weren't run ragged that you couldn't visit the tavern. It was just the other place you avoided like the plague considering it's where Kaeya went when he had time off. Though you were sad you couldn't see Diluc. But were you certain he understood why you didn't go. You would have to make a plan to visit him.

"Hmm," Kaeya leaned in close which made you blush, "well in that case, it looks like you're free now. How about accompanying me to the tavern tonight?" He pinched a strand of your hair between his fingers bringing it to his lips. It was unfair how much this man was affecting you right now.

"I would but I don't think you're girlfriend would like that very much." You sounded a lot more displeased then you had anticipated but Kaeya on the other hand seemed to be pleased with how upset it made you.

"Oh that little bird." Kaeya paused for a bit, "she broke up with me." Kaeya placed a hand over his heart, giving you a sad face. You own expression softening.

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." Maybe now is your chance.

"Well then, I'll ask again. Will you keep me company tonight?" He leaned in close to you again, you shyly looked away with a blush forming in your cheeks.

"Okay, just for a little while then." You couldn't help but give into him.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

You felt yourself spiral down the path that is Kaeya. Ever since his so called girlfriend had broken up with him, he had been back to your side, well more like he had you wrapped around his finger. You were like his personal little puppy.

Kaeya found it highly amusing how quick you were to run to his side at his beck and call, and that's what made it all the more sweeter to watch you break when he was tired of you.

Which was one of those times, you cried softly at the bar in Angel's Share.

Diluc had closed the tavern early upon seeing your disheveled state when you had entered the bar. Now he sat beside you with his arm wrapped around your shoulder. You rested your head on his and sniffled pathetically.

Diluc couldn't stand to see you like this. He was so heartbroken and he didn't know what to do to help. Killing Kaeya might do the trick. It would definitely devastated you but you would get over him, it would be worth it, in the long run, he wouldn't have to deal with the irritable captain himself. No Diluc wasn't going to kill Kaeya even if he was really tempted right now. As Diluc held you, he wondered what Kaeya was even thinking. Why would he play with your emotions like this? You're such a sweet and caring girl. You were also very hardworking. It wasn't fair on you to be treated this way especially when Kaeya knew you liked him. Kaeya doesn't even deserve your attention. But he doesn't know how to tell you, or if you would even accept it. And maybe he shouldn't tell you how he feels about you, it's probably best if he just stays as your emotional support. It was better that nothing, he thought. He didn't want to ruin anything.

"I'm sorry Diluc. I don't mean to go on like a baby. I just don't understand. Why am I so stupid?" You sniffled, trying your best to dry up your tears that seemed to fall endlessly.

"You're not stupid. Why would you think that?" It made Diluc upset to hear you degrade yourself like that.

"Because I've realized that Kaeya doesn't care about me at all. I'm only a plaything for when he gets bored. Yet I can't seem to stop him." You covered your face with your hands, and began to cry again.

Diluc thought about it for a while. You needed a distraction from Kaeya. He had a plan for that but he didn't know if you would agree to it. The next thing you needed was to stay away from him. But that seemed to prove very difficult for you to do. Diluc would think of something.

"I can help you." Diluc spoke softly giving you a gently squeeze.

You whimpered looking at him. You dreaded to know what you looked like. Red puffy eyes with a equally red and runny nose. The epitome of unattractive ness. Yet Diluc still thought you were as gorgeous as ever.

"You can?" You blew your nose with a tissue.

"You need a distraction, so use me." Diluc was being so soft with you. Since he was always so stoic and monotone it was weird seeing him like this but it was certainly pleasant. Somewhere it made you feel special.

"Use you?" You weren't too sure what he meant at first but then it clicked, "No Diluc, I can't." You shook your head.

He was afraid of this, not that he didn't expect it of course. He knew you weren't that type of person.

"It's fine, I want to help you." His arm around your shoulder dropped to your waist pulling you closer to his side. Your breath caught in your throat. He was pleasantly warm.

"But I can't do that to you." It wasn't right. You couldn't use Diluc in that type of way. You'd rather go to a brothel...maybe not you weren't too fond of the either of random men touching you.

Diluc lifted your chin so you were looking at him. His ruby eyes pierced through you, lighting your core on fire, "I don't want some random person touching you." He couldn't help but frown at the idea, that some strange man or woman would touch you and...no that wasn't going to happen. He wouldn't allow it.

You found it incredibly sweet but strange, why was he so adamant about it? That's when you figured it out.

"Diluc...do you have feelings for me?" You asked softly while looking up at him.

He averted his eyes from you briefly. He supposed he shouldn't be surprised that you figured it out. But now it would be even harder for him to get you to agree.

"I do." He looked back at you.

It made sense now why he was different with you. Why he was so gentle and soft with you. And that's why you couldn't accept his offer.

"And that's why I can't." Your voice as below a whisper as he brought his face closer to yours.

"You don't need to worry about my feelings. Let me help." He cupped your cheek. Your heart began to race. Was this really okay?

"I'll make you a promise. We can set boundaries later, for now just submit yourself." Diluc closed the gap between your lips and kissed you.

You didn't make any move to stop him and instead gave into him. Diluc was glad to feel you had accepted when he felt your lips press back against his. He pulled up you off your stool and onto his lap. Your legs draped either side of him as you straddled him. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed yourself against Diluc's chest while his hands gripped tightly at you hips.

Diluc had to admit it was nice finally having you against him like this. So much so he was having a hard time holding himself back. But he had to for your sake. This was about you after all. And he was going to do everything he could to get you to forget about Kaeya.

Slowly he removed himself from you. You panted softly feeling a little sad at the loss. A light blush dusted your cheeks. Diluc removed himself from his seat and gently he set you onto the ground.

"I have a room above the tavern." He took your hand and lead you out of Angel's Share and up the stairs that were connected to it.

You were always curious as to what this room was but you never thought it would be a living quarters. Thought it did make sense, the Dawn Winery was a quite a distance away.

Upon entering Diluc made sure you were completely comfortable before he did anything, even if he himself was getting incredibly restless and uncomfortable in his pants.

Diluc started by gently kissing your neck while his hands lightly roamed your body. Slowly but surely he removed each layer of clothing, making sure to give every part I'd your body equal attention.

Kissing, licking, sucking, touching.

Every action drove you deeper into ecstasy. Soon you were tugging his clothes off. Your back arched as you let out a moan. You gripped the bedsheets below you tightly as you felt Diluc enter you. His large girth stretched you wide despite all the prep work he did with his mouth and fingers. You pulled him close latching yourself onto his lips. Diluc groaned softly into yours as he ravaged you. He would enjoy this type of intimacy while it lasted.

Your climax was nearing and quick, you begged to Diluc to go faster and he happily complied. Picking up the pace he thrust into you deeply. It wasn't long till you were coming all over him with a loud moan. Which in turn caused Diluc to cum inside the condom he had on. He panted softly as he slowed his thrusts to help you ride out your high.

Once your breathing returned to normal, Diluc slid out and sat at the edge of the bed. You rolled onto your side and your eyes fell on his back which was married with scars. You realized just how hard he worked to keep Mondstadt safe. You reached out with your hand to touch his back when he turned his head to look at you. Quickly you retracted your hand.

"Are you okay?" He asked concerned.

You gave a gentle smile. Honestly you felt great and it was thanks to Diluc.

"Yeah I am." You yawned soon after and giggled, "just a little sleepy."

Diluc smiled in return, "well you can sleep here if you want. I still have some things I need to take care of." He said as he started to dress himself.

You took Diluc up on his offer and after he was gone, you dressed yourself and was soon fast asleep. When you woke up the next morning, you could hear the birds chirping.

"Good morning." Diluc's voice called out from the mini kitchen. He brought over a cup of coffee for you, which you gladly accepted. Then he handed you a piece of paper.

"Morning. What's this?" You took a sip from your cup and looked at the paper now in your hand.

"I told you, we would set some boundaries right?" He sounded a bit indifferent.

"Ah right." You nodded and you both proceeded to set up your boundaries.

When the list was complete, these were the conditions:

1. No kissing.

2. No frontal sex.

3. No hickies.

4. No oral (except you receiving).

5. No aftercare.

You felt a bit guilty about the fact that Diluc didn't ask for anything in return. But he reassured you that he was fine, since this wasn't about him anyway. He was doing this for you which in the end made you feel even worse. But you accepted it.

Whenever you needed the distraction, Diluc was always there to provide for you. You did your best not to go to him too often. You were glad you were still able to talk to him and hang out around him without things being weird. And it was thanks to the boundaries that you two had set. Diluc too was happy you didn't distance yourself from him and he did his utmost best to contain his feelings for you so he wouldn't make things awkward, even if it was difficult for him. Though he supposed it wasn't all that bad, he got to have you after all. He just wished you actually his.

You had to admit Diluc had helped you a lot by doing this for you. You just wished you could do something in return for him but you didn't know what, so instead, in your time off and after work and providing Diluc wasn't gone off somewhere you would take the chance to learn about him. You found that the both of you had a few things in common. Like birds for instance. You loved birds they were so beautiful and graceful. There were also so many different types. So you were delighted to find out that Diluc had his own bird companion and you were ecstatic when he showed you his nightingale. You were like a giddy child when you were able to pet him. Diluc fell harder for you after this moment. It was becoming harder for him to keep this up.

The more time you spent with Diluc, the more you thought about the red head. He was so different to Kaeya in every way. For one he actually cared about you and your feelings, he didn't use you for his own amusement. And everytime you were near him you felt so at ease like nothing else in the world matter. This feeling that you had towards the Pyro user...was it love? But then what had you felt for Kaeya? Perhaps Kaeya was just an infatuation. You were confused, you had to think about it more.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

It's been about a month now since you started this arrangement with Diluc. Things had gotten a better for you. You didn't fawn over Kaeya as much as you used to. Naturally the blue headed male noticed and he was hardly amused by it. But he could still sway you every now and again. You still had no idea why he held this power over you, you guessed you still weren't fully over him. That was until both Kaeya and Diluc got sent out on a mission together.

You had no idea how Jean had managed to persuade Diluc into working for the Knights never mind with Kaeya. It made you a little nervous when they had both left Mondstadt. You knew about they're unstable relationship and honestly you were more worried about Diluc than you were with Kaeya. Diluc was more temperamental. He fell into Kaeya's bait traps everytime. You couldn't help but pray that everything would be okay and that Kaeya wouldn't annoy Diluc too much.

You were starting to get incredibly restless as the days went by. The boys still hadn't returned and it's been five days now. They should have been back by now. To keep yourself from worrying to death you kept busy at work and you tried not to bother Jean or the other Knights too much with regards to them. Jean reassured you that you would be the first person she would notify once they had returned.

During their time away it gave you time to think about both of them and what they meant to you.

When you thought about Kaeya. His looks and appearance was the first thing that caught your attention. He was exotic and unfathomably handsome. He was hot sure but his personality was a major let down. All he did was use people for his own gain and amusement, he didn't really care about anyone but himself, as long as his plan went accordingly, that's all he cared about.

When you thought about Diluc. He made you happy. Neither his looks nor personality was what came to mind first but instead it was how he made you feel. He actually made you feel appreciated and loved. Of course you knew his true feelings for you and that's one of the reasons he was so kind to you but even before you knew, he still treated you kindly and respected you. But besides that you found him adorable. He wasn't used to affection or having friends so sometimes he came across meaner than intended and his intentions were pure, it's what made him cute. And its not like he wasn't attractive. In fact he was absolutely stunning. Dressed or undressed.

You blushed deeply thinking about it. You only ever get to see him naked briefly before you were face down on the mattress. You felt your body grow hot thinking about it. Kaeya was never as thoughtful as Diluc. Diluc only thought about your feelings, he was never selfish. If anything you felt like the selfish one.

But you would change that, you understood now. Diluc was the one you loved and for a while now not Kaeya. You only hoped Diluc still felt the same.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As you were walking home one evening, there was a commotion at the front gates. Curious you went over to investigate. Your heart both leapt with joy and sunk at the same time. In an instant you were over to Diluc's injured body, swating away the other Knights who dared try to help. Diluc was surprised to see you and how protective you were being of him but he was grateful, not to mention the happiness that he felt was unreal. He couldn't stop the small blush that graced his porcelain skin.

Kaeya on the other hand finally understood why it had been getting increasingly harder to charm you. He was annoyed he had to find a new plaything to train.

You walked Diluc to the room above Angel's Share upon his request. You had insisted on going to Barbara but Diluc was adamant that he didn't need to see a healer. You only sighed and instead began to patch him up instead after you convinced him to take a bath. Now with clean skin you could clearly see all the wounds on his body not only that but he definitely had at least one broken rib with how deep his side was bruised.

"Diluc, you-"

"I don't need a helaer." He cut you off. You frowned looking at him. You knew the basics of first aid but that was about it. This was out of your comfort zone.

"I'll tell you what to do." He could see the worry in your eyes. It wasn't the first time he's been injured like this or even worse. He's learnt how to deal with all sorts of injuries by himself. This thought upset you. Diluc's been alone for so long and he's been willing to let you in. You wouldn't waste it.

You gave a small nod and followed his instructions. Who knew sweet flower oil and mist flowers combined had healing properties? Not you, but you did now. You began to bandage his wounds after thoroughly rubbing the oil onto his skin. It felt nice to be able to touch him. If he wasn't so injured you would've pounced on him here and now. You made sure to be careful not to wrap the bandage too tight. Sitting back you observed his body more, just like his back, his chest and arms were also littered with scars. Your heart swelled thinking again about how much he does to protect his home and it's people.

"What's wrong?" He asked. You didn't realize you had spaced out while staring at his chest. Lifting your gaze to his you gave a small shake of your head.

"Oh it's nothing." You smiled.

"Are you sure? Do you need-"

It was you're turn to cut him off, "You're in no state doe that. Besides that's not it. I was just thinking." You said packing away the access oil and bandages.

Diluc tilted his head to the side. You giggled softly, "don't worry Diluc. I was only thinking about you." You winked.

Diluc blushed deeply and to distract himself he began putting his shirt back on. Once he was a little calmer he asked you why.

"Because you need rest, you work too hard." You grabbed his coat from him, and he gaped in shock.

"Well if you want this you'll have to get in here." You pulled the duvet back revealing the tempting bedsheet underneath.

"Are you trying to blackmail me with my coat?" He asked not even believing it when he said it out loud.

You gave a soft giggled, "I mean, if it's working than yes." Diluc couldn't help but chucked himself.

"Alright then." Diluc smiled softly.

He decided to give you this one and get into bed. Besides he would need to recover his strength quickly in case you needed him.

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

As soon as Diluc had recovered you had visited him at the Dawn Winery. Where you sat straddling his lap, your hand in his hair as you ravaged his lips.

Diluc was surprised when you had unexpectedly arrived at the manor and whisked him away to his office. You would've taken him to his bedroom but that was too far unlike his office, where you had him seated on the couch. It was unlike you to ever initiate like this, Diluc was unsure what to think of it, but he would be lying if he wasn't enjoying it. The feeling of your lips against his as your tongues fought for dominance, that he gladly gave to you once he felt the fervour and intensity you held. And the feeling of your fingers tangled in his disheveled fiery hair you light tugs every now and again was driving him insane.

But what did this mean? Perhaps it was best not to know, in case he recieved an answer he didnt want to hear. But he didn't want to do this anymore. Especially if this is what it was coming to. But he would soon find his fears were for nothing.

Removing your lips from his a string of saliva connected you to him.

"Diluc?" You whispered softly, removing your hand from his hair you cupped his cheek gently, rubbing your thumb over his plump moist lips.

Diluc shivered under your touch as his lips parted ever so slightly. Experimentally you slipped your thumb inside his mouth. Diluc let out a soft moan as he sucked on your finger. A satisfied hum escaped your throat.

"Diluc?" You asked again, removing your hand from his face.

His eyes meet yours in silent question. His chest heaved with heavy breaths.

"Do...do you still love me?" You couldn't stop the shake in your voice.

Without hesitation he spoke, "of course I do." His hands gripped your hips tightly as he pulled you closer to his chest. You bit your lip feeling his erection through his pants.

"Thank goodness," you pressed yourself against him, closing any distance that was between you two, "I love you too."

Without giving him any time to really process you smashed your lips against his once again.

You loved him? Diluc never thought he would hear those words come from your mouth, as sad as that sounded. He couldn't help but push you away. which left you quite upset.

"Diluc?" Your heart sunk. Did he not actually love you?

Diluc saw the hurt in your eyes and immediately regret pushing you away but he needed to be clear about this.

"Sorry, I just want to be sure." He felt guilty about it but it had to be done.

Now you felt selfish, being so greedy and not taking Diluc's feelings into consideration. So you cupped his cheeks resting your forehead against his.

"Sorry I was being a bit selfish wasn't I?" You smiled softly, "but it's true, I love you. And it's not like how I was with Kaeya, he was an infatuation I realized. But you Diluc, I want to be with you. I don't want to be apart from you."

Diluc could hear and see the love and affection you had for him, he didn't know why he had doubted you, but he just wanted to be on the same page.

"I'm sorry it took so long, it must've been tough for you. But I promise, this is a two way street now," your eyes shone mischievously. Diluc was both nervous and excited at the same time.

"Diluc~" you cooed into his ear.

A shiver went down Diluc's spine as he gave a little hmm, that more came out as a moan than a question.

"You've done so much for me." You licked the shell of his ear. You felt his grip tighten on your hips holding you desperately close.

"Let me," you gave his ear a little kitten lick, "show you my appreciation." You lightly nibbled and sucked on his ear while grinding down against him.

Diluc gasped, his hips instinctively bucking up into you. You let out a little "ah" into his ear before working down his jaw with soft butterfly kisses. You made quick work of his dress shirt. You were grateful he wasn't wearing his coat or his vest. Dragging your fingers down his chest, you attacked his neck with your mouth, you began leaving dark hickies on his pale skin.

Diluc's hands moved on their own, one travelling up your shirt, his bare hand caressed your waist, squeezing and pulling you closer, while the other had slipped into your shorts to massage your butt cheek.

You hummed in delight, your hands dropping further down his abdomen to his black pants. You teasingly tugged on them, eliciting a grunt from the male beneath you.

You gave him one final kiss on the lips before lowering yourself off his lap and onto your knees, pulling his pants down with you. Diluc watched impatiently as you slide your hands up his thighs, you could feel how the muscles on his thighs tensed under your touch. You giggled softly, it was cute watching him squirm for your touch. You reached up further palming him through his boxers. Diluc bit his lip, it was so unbearably tight but it felt good at the same time.

"(Y/N)." He wanted you and he was getting a little desperate.

"Just be a little more patient love~" you cooed softly giving him a few strokes. Diluc grunted tilting his head back. That's when you took the opportunity to pull his boxers down, freeing his hard leaking member.

Your eyes widened at the sight, you couldn't believe how he could fit inside you. But you weren't going to complain. Spreading his legs slightly so you could sit between them, you leaned down licking his tip. Diluc shuddered picking his head back up to gaze down at you just as you took his tip into your mouth.

Diluc's hand found purchase in your hair, the feeling of your hot mouth around him caused him to push you further down. He wanted to feel more of you. You moaned around him, your mouth stretching wide to try and accommodate his size. You gave soft sucks while pressing your tongue against a vein on the underside of his member. Diluc bucked into your mouth, pushing deeper inside. You winched softly due to the light burning sensation in your mouth. It would take some time before you got used to this, but you weren't going to back out so soon.

Diluc moaned giving your cheek a gentle rub. As if it apologize for the pain. Your eyes fluttered closed at the simple gesture. Diluc could feel how you relaxed your mouth, deciding to be a little selfish he thrust into your mouth again. You choked on a moan as your eyes opened to gaze up at him. His eyes meet yours with a burning passion that set your core on fire. You couldn't help but moan at the sight. Each moan you made sent vibrations down Diluc's throbbing member. He began to thrust lightly into your mouth, he didn't want to hurt you after all. But you wouldn't mind if he was a little rougher with you. So you reached up with your hand, sliding it from his thigh to his balls, and massaged them.

"Shit." Diluc swore as he furrowed his eyebrows, his hips jotted upwards roughly into your mouth, his tip brushing the back of your throat. You did you best not to gag, and moaned around him. Your saliva dripped out the corners of your mouth and down the sides of Diluc's cock.

Diluc didn't know how much longer he could last like this. You truly were a sight to behold, watching you struggle to take his cock but yet do so well for your first time with him.

"B-baby, wait," he called out as he slowed his thrusts. You took his cock out your mouth with a wet pop. You licked your lips panting softly through lidded eyes.

You stood up and slipped free from your clothing, letting it pool on the ground. Once you were bare in front of him Diluc wasted on time in pulling you back onto his lap. Diluc could feel how wet you were for him, when his cock slipped between your folds.

"Look how excited you are." He cooed, pressing his tip against your needy hole.

"Oh Luc please," you firmly gripped his shoulders as you pushed yourself down onto him.

Diluc grinned as his nails dug onto the flesh of your hips.

"You beg me, yet proceed to take matters into your own hands." He certainly was not complaining. In fact it thoroughly turned him on, he was loving this side of you.

Instead of giving him a proper reply you mewled out his name, and continued to sink onto his cock. You never got used to this feeling. How he stretched you out and filled you so good. Your walls tightened around Diluc as he helped you up and back down onto him. Despite his previous sessions with you, this felt so different and so good. It was intimate.

Bringing your lips to his slightly parted ones, you stuck your tongue inside and began bouncing up and down on him. Diluc moaned into your mouth but this time dominance was his. He pushed your tongue back into your mouth as he claimed your hot cavern for himself. Your hands fell from his shoulders and to his chest, your fingers grazing over his nipples. Diluc groaned feeling you clench around him again. Breaking the kiss he pushed you down onto the couch as he spread your legs wide. You wanted to protest but this new position allowed Diluc to hit that special spot inside you. All previous thoughts disappeared as Diluc rammed into. You screamed in pleasure as he abused your g-spot that he's learnt so well.

Between your moans was the wet slapping sound as Diluc thrust into you. Your slick coated his length and seeped out of your pussy, it made it so easy for Diluc to ram into you. Diluc leaned down to attack your open neck, your arms instantly wrapped around his neck pulling him closer. Just as you did, Diluc left many love bites on your skin, from your neck to your chest.

You could feel the familiar knot bubble inside you, and Diluc could feel it. He could feel how your body trembled and your walls convulse around him, sucking him in deeper. He panted and groaned gripping your hips he lifted them up. Throwing your head back you came heavily on Diluc's cock. His grip tightened and he came inside you. You let out one final moan as you felt him fill you up. It was hot.

Diluc waited a few moments before pulling out of you and gently placing your hips back down. You let out soft gasps as you came down from your high. You gazed up at Diluc and smiled reaching out for him. The red head returned your smile and leaned down, letting you pull him down onto your chest as you held him close.

Diluc muzzled into your breasts letting out a content sigh. That's when he realized he didn't use protection and started freaking out. He pulled away from you in a panic, the abruptness scared you as you held your arms to your chest.

"What's wrong?" You asked concerned.

"I didn't use protection." He wasn't against having children, he just didn't want to have any too soon.

But you only sighed in relief waving him off, "it's fine, I started taking birth control, a while ago."

Diluc looked at you with a raised eyebrow, "define, a while ago."

"Right after you returned from your mission." You sat up to face him properly.

Diluc found himself smirking, "oh so you planned this?"

You couldn't help but blush and look away from him without answer. Which resulted in a chuckle from the Winery owner.

You were gently pushed back down onto the couch, "I mean I'm not going to complain, I get to fill you up until I'm satisfied."

You shuddered in delight and pulled him closer, "I'll take everything you give me."

Diluc grinned, "good girl." He praised sliding back into your still wet hole.

#genshin impact #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x reader #x reader #smut #kaeya alberich #kaeya

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imaginationjunkie · 3 years

Text

Dancing with our hands tied

Jason Todd x Reader

It’s kinda soft

Thought of these songs while writing, so give them a listen while reading!

Note: Jason’s 25 and the reader is 21

I was always a fan of the over the top charity galas Bruce Wayne threw. The elitists in their flashy riches, extravagant decorations and endless varieties of food, and a certain Wayne brother in a suit. It was all very amusing to witness.

I felt like a princess walking down the stairs with Tim every time, who refused to ever get an actual date. So I’d been stuck being his unofficial date for the 5 years that I’d known him. Not that I minded much; he was my best friend after all.

I chose a simple flowy dress tonight, blood red in color, silky like water. The subtle eyes that followed me through the evening didn’t go unnoticed.

But my eyes followed just one sight. A sight that erupted the unwanted greenness of jealousy as I sulked in a corner, celebrating turning 21 recently with a champagne flute in hand.

I felt him before I saw him. Warmth soothed my skin at his presence, despite the fact that I was unfairly mad at him. It wasn’t like he was my boyfriend.

Easier to say than do, and thus all the salt in the world seemed to be in my tone as I spoke first.

“Where’s your date?”

Jason Todd’s eyes might’ve been cool blue, but the feel of them didn’t match the description. The side of my head felt like it would burst into golden flames under the intensity of his stare.

But they were the good kind of flames, the best kind of flames. It was almost miraculous, the way I managed to keep my calm.

“She bailed, something about her sick grandma,” was his soft response.

“Hmm.”

“What’s with the tone?” He leaned closer, hot breath teasing my cheek. Jason had gotten awfully bold since the first time we met, when he couldn’t even look into my eyes straight.

“Is it jealousy I sense?”

I tried to be subtle about my sharp inhale. Judging by the stutter of his lips as he suppressed a smirk, I failed.

But why hide anymore? I was never one to hold back anyway. “Yes, it is.”

It was my turn to take his breath away. I turned my head, challenging him with my stare. But I was too tangled in his game to play in charge. He had me, and he knew it. Right?

A smile filled with swirls of mischief and satisfaction designed his lips. Yes, he definitely knew it.

It caught me off guard, the unfiltered beauty of it. Of him. Watching Jason Todd smile, really smile, was not for the weak hearted.

“Then I think you’ll be happy to know that she wasn’t a date. Just a friend.”

Eyes the color of a swirling blue sea, a face handsome enough to cause heartache. Why’d it take me so long to realize that I could never resist him? Not even in a million years. Not even if Ryan Gosling came offering himself to me.

A little too far?

Maybe, but it’s true. What to do?

I was just about to walk away from him, refill the empty flute of champagne to bring back sparkle to my uneventful evening. A large hand wrapping around my wrist stopped me.

“Let’s dance,” he said with the softness of tulle, pulling my frame closer to his larger one. Close enough to smell his cologne. Like a creep in the street, I subtly took a slow sniff of it.

It’d never stop amusing me, how a man who seemed as rough and rugged around the edges as he did had so much softness in him.

And smelled so. damn. good.

“M’kay,” I agreed, following as he led the way to the ballroom. Or so I thought.

“I thought you wanted to dance?” I inquired, looking back at the flashing dance floor full of people we left behind.

“I do.” His eyes twinkled as he looked back at me, still walking to God knows where with my hand in his.

“We literally just crossed the dance floor, where else on earth do you plan on taking me dancing?”

“Who said anything about a dance floor?” Jason smirked, coming to a stop in the garden behind the manor.

Even though it was off limits to Bruce’s guests tonight, the garden looked particularly beautiful. Strings of fairy lights decorated the flawlessly kept greens and flowers, courtesy of Alfred. The pool lights were on, and a surreal soft blue glow lit up the water.

It matched Jason’s eyes.

But that wasn’t all. Long fingers tilted my chin up, and a gasp reverberated the air as my eyes met the mystical view. Stars glittered the midnight canvas endlessly, and in the center of it all sat the full moon like a queen.

She was regal tonight.

My mouth was slightly open in awe, and Jason’s fingers on my chin softly closed it as he chuckled.

“I’m guessing you like the view?”

“Like it? I might as well marry it!” I exclaimed, eyes wide with glee as I gripped his shoulders.

“Dick used to bring his, ahem, lady companions to charm them back when I was Robin. I’d always barge in and interrupt to interrogate about the last woman I saw with him,” he laughed while recalling the memory.

“Did it work?” I smiled back and stood closer to him, the fronts of our bodies slightly touching. My hands had come down to rest on his chest now, and while my eyes were up roaming the sky, my soul’s attention was solely on him.

He shuffled with something in his suit pocket. “Did what work?”

“Dick’s method of charming the ladies?”

“Judging by the walks of shame Alfred and I had to witness every morning after each Wayne gala, yes. It very much did.”

I felt Jason put something in my ear, and finally looked down from the stars to his eyes in confusion. It was an airpod, and I watched silently as he put the other one in his ear.

“I promise I’m not a creep or anything, but I stalked your Spotify playlists and found one titled ‘dancing under the stars’.” He confessed. In a very un-Jason like manner, he looked almost sheepish.

He didn’t look at me as he pressed play and pocketed his phone. Almost immediately ‘Dancing with our hands tied’ by Taylor Swift came on, and he took my hand in his.

Tingles shot up the pit of my stomach as his free arm wrapped around my waist, fingers resting on my hip. We swayed in beat to the music in our ears, eyes on eyes.

I, I loved you in secret First sight, yeah, we love without reason Oh, twenty-five years old Oh, how were you to know,

The lords, and anyone who knew me actually, knew how big of a swiftie I was. The fact that he had put in the effort to pick the absolute perfect song to dance to had to be the most romantic thing that ever happened to me.

I was completely mesmerized. Guys like this only existed in the encasement of my stash of romance novels; but time and time Jason Todd had proved that idea wrong. Every one of his gestures, one after the other, seemed to catch me off guard more than the previous one.

“Wanted to do this since I was 17,” I breathed the fresh air in, craning my neck to rest my chin on his shoulder. This right here was all I needed to relax. This was my very own customized form of peace.

“Yeah, Tim let it slip when he got drunk on your birthday and started blabbing about how you’re growing up in front of his eyes,” he laughed and pulled back to twirl me.

I crashed back into his chest softly, grinning at his revelation.

“It’s so hard to believe you guys are best friends, that Timmy’s actually capable of having normal human conversations other than his usual nerdy blabber,” Jason continued, pulling me even closer to him while dancing.

No objections were made from my side as I obliged (obviously), staring up at his eyes.

They were like an oceanic maze, too easy to get lost in. Too dangerous to get lost in.

“He’s a good friend. Awfully robot-like at times though, and he always smells of coffee.” I breathed with a chuckle as the air around us got intense.

The gold of the fairy lights hit his eyes, making them shine brighter than the stars above I let my hands grip the hairs on his neck, watching carefully as he took a sharp breath in response.

If there was something Jason and my relationship, whatever that it was, didn’t lack, it was moments like these. Moments where we had a conversation with our eyes, expressing how much we wanted to kiss each other, how much we wanted to stay frozen in the present and relish in the feel of our undeniable chemistry.

It had been going on for way too long, and even Tim was getting tired of us not taking the leap of faith.

Initially he was pretty against it, but when he saw exactly how much I felt for his brother, his blessings for us suddenly started pouring in.

“Uhuh,” Jason hummed. An electric sensation buzzed the air around us as the chorus hit, and all the space between our bodies vanished. Butterflies went haywire in the places of my body he touched. He was everywhere.

But we were dancing Dancing with our hands tied, hands tied Yeah, we were dancing Like it was the first time, first time

“Stop me if you don’t want it,” he harshly whispered, brows furrowed and eyes clouded with desire as he tucked a few loose strands of my hair behind my ear.

“I do,” I whispered in response, knowing exactly what he meant.

His breath hit my lips, forehead fell against mine in a moment of desire and the next thing I knew, he was kissing me.

It was needy and rushed and a thousand other adjectives, but it was my most perfect kiss. It would always be my most perfect kiss.

Jason’s muscular arms encircled my waist as he pressed me up against him, gripping my sides and lifting me to stand on his feet. My own arms wrapped around his neck, and a sneaky stutter of a moan escaped my lips, earning me a groan from him.

Passion burned us under the cool night air as we kissed and kissed and kissed, all thoughts of oxygen forgotten in our haze of need.

But even our passion couldn’t defy nature. We pulled back to breathe in as much air as we could, but instead of diving back in towards each other’s lips like I expected us to, Jason simply stared at me with eyes that now looked navy from being hooded.

It was a stare of a few seconds that seemed like hours as his thumbs brushed the side of my face. The fire of need from a while back was gone, but the desire wasn’t.

We both tried to calm ourselves, but an unstoppable part of me leaned up to press a kiss on his cheek. He blushed.

“Wanted to do that since you were 17,” he said cheekily, hands tracing my back as we now let ‘Wonderland’ by Taylor amuse our ears.

“Liar,” I grinned. “You couldn’t even look at me back then.”

“Yeah, because I’d do this if I looked at you for more than 5 seconds. I had no plans of going to jail for getting handsy with a minor,” he replied, leading us to the wooden benches Bruce had installed in the garden a few weeks earlier.

I lifted a teasing brow, masking my shock at the fact that he wanted to kiss me even back then.

“And how’re you so sure I would’ve let you get handsy with me? For all you know I could have kicked you in the balls myself.”

“Don’t act coy, you could never stop staring at me when you were over,” he smirked, sitting down on the bench and pulling me to his lap.

I hesitated for a second, my brain getting lost in the fact that after months of banters and unbelievable tension, interruptions and two sided pining, I was finally in this position. Where we were able to be open about our want for each other.

Sensing my hesitation, his smirk dropped. “This is okay right?”

I snapped back to reality, taking his nervous expression in. Yes, this was real. And I wouldn’t waste a second of the time God gave me with Jason. I smirked and ran my fingers through his dark locks, making him close his eyes.

“Of course it is, just thinking about how long it took for you to man up and kiss me,”

“Excuse me, you could’ve-”

I cut him off by pressing my lips to his. He responded almost immediately, putting his hand on my hip as I sat sideways on his lap. Unlike the first one, this kiss was sweet and slow. We were cherishing the night with it.

“About damn time, I thought all my teeth were gonna fall out due to old age before Todd here grew some balls,” the sudden voice of a certain sass filled Wayne interrupted us.

My magical night with Jason ended with him running after his kid brother Damian, teasing him about kicking his ass.

But that was okay, because I was happy. Jason was happy. The long wait for him, for us, was worth it.

Even though he gave off the impression that he couldn’t care less, I knew that the reason he hadn’t made a move was because he wanted Tim to be completely fine with us being a thing.

Alongside being friends with Tim, I became friends with his brothers and Alfred over the years. I knew of their nightlife, and everything that went on behind the polished doors of the Wayne Manor. I knew Jason well enough to know that his tough posterior and damn care attitude was just a facade.

Being with Jason wouldn’t be a walk in the park, and I knew that too. He was reckless and intense, impulsive and careless.

But he was also sweet and passionate, and his love would brand you like a tattoo with it’s depth. I was willing to give my 110% to make it work with him.

Because even fairy tales take sacrifice and effort to get a happy ending. And I’d do about anything to make sure I earned mine.

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quixotic-writer · 3 years

Text

I’m Always On Top

Request: Anon(s)

Summary: It started out as a fun game between Sal and Q at the gay bar they found themselves at: get as many drinks and as drunk as you can. Jealousy soon takes over Sal and it leads to the two going home. But Sal decides to try and put Q in his place by playing dominant and taking the role of top for the evening. But as Q had always said: “i’m always on top.”

—————————————————————————

They had come to the bar together with friendly competition in the back of their heads: get as many free drinks as they can. It wasn’t just any bar, it was the local gay bar. It didn’t matter who won, the only thing they cared about was that they go home together.

The music was flooding the club and people of all walks of life from anywhere you could imagine were swaying and moving in tune with the music. Those who were sitting at the bar or leaning against it were engaged in their own social exchanges. With a shot in their hands, they toasted to each other.

“May the best man drink.” Q said. Glasses raised and it was down the hatch in a second. A shot of confidence burned their throats and they split from one another and made their way through the bar. Q had found himself sitting at the bar and someone was quick to approach him and give a little bit of sweet talk while flagging a bartender down. Sal felt a pinch of discouragement when no one was as quick to approach him, but he would soon find his confidence once he worked his personable charm.

As Q was in his seat, his eyes wandered and saw Sal across the bar. He was talking it up with a bunch of people, eyes hungry and eating him up as his hands moved around as he talked. One hand held a drink and there was another one sitting in front of him along with a little shot glass. Q felt proud of him in a weird way, managing to finesse that many drinks in such a short period of time was truly a feat. He would have thought that he would have been jealous, but for some reason he didn’t. He was absolutely crazy for Sal and he knew had those same feelings, but within Sal, that crazed love was something magnified to significant levels.

Sal was the one who got jealous, probably because he knew of Q’s vast and diverse fan base that would thirst over him and would often be all he saw online. Q could have anyone he wanted really, and he often worried if he was enough. This led to fits of jealousy and clinginess for Sal, a reaction he wished he could better control but it always got the better of him.

The night continued and drinks flowed endlessly. Q was on his 7th or maybe 8th drink and he was off on the dance floor, completely forgetting about the little competition he had agreed to for the night. Sal had totally lost track of his drink count as shots were poured endlessly. He was absolutely intoxicated, he couldn’t remember the last time he had been bought so many drinks, it made him feel special in a way. His eyes looked around for Q as he decided to slow things down a bit and sober up a little with some water. When his eyes found his boyfriend, hot anger filled him in a second.

Q was out dancing with guys all around him, not a care in the world. In his drunken brain, Sal believed that Q didn’t care about him at that moment. He was quick to leave his spot at the bar and make a bee line over to his boyfriend. He quickly grabbed him by his shirt collar and smashed his lips against his. When he pulled away, Q was excited to see him.

“Hey Sally! Surprised you don’t have a drink in your hand.” Sal glared at every one that was feeling up Q and they all quickly backed away. He reconnected their lips and quickly darted his tongue into Q’s mouth and Q moaned at the sensation, bringing Sal in closer to him. The tempo and bass of the music was vibrating in them as they flowed to the tune, hips sinfully close and grinding together. Sal finally pulled away just to catch his breath and Q was left almost speechless, hungry for something else.

“I think we’ve had enough to drink… Let’s go.” Sal said in a very demanding tone. It took Q aback a little, but took it as Sal being needy for some sexual relief after their little stunt on the dance floor together. He agreed with his lover and they called a cab.

When they reached home and made their way to the bedroom, Sal was quick and rough with his movement. He ripped open Q’s button down, exposing his chest and his lips were quickly attached to the skin leaving hickeys all over and everywhere his lips could reach as fast as possible.

“Fuck, Sal. Slow down baby.” Q felt Sal attempting to overpower him, and he didn’t even know what brought this on. But, if he kept this up, Q wasn’t afraid to put him back in his place.

Sal ignored Q as clothing was shed away. Layer after layer until they were in nothing but their boxers. Q was sitting at the edge of the bed, Sal was straddling him. Lips were intertwined, only occasionally leaving when each of them were painting the other’s skin with bruises. Their lips were smacking together, moans loud in their throats, and then Sal made the next move. He shoved Q back into the bed and was over him.

“You’re fucking mine.” He mumbled harshly before he bit down onto the flesh of Q’s neck earning a groan from him. The next thing Sal knew, there was a hand on his throat. Q sat up straight with Sal’s face mere inches away from his and a hand was gripping the sides of his throat, nothing threatening or endangering in the slightest, but something to earn dominance back. It showed signs of working as Sal let out a little whimper.

“What is your deal tonight?” Sal’s dominance quickly began melting away as Q began taking control, “I try to have fun tonight and you cut in, and now you’re trying to top me?”

“They were all over you Brian.” He mustered out trying to keep a brave face. He tried to resist falling into submission, but the way Q was looking at him, the way his hand was on his neck, the posture he was holding, he knew this momentary bliss of being in the dominant role would soon dissipate.

“Because you’re being a little brat you think you’re all of a sudden dominant sweetheart?” Regret filled Sal as he felt an impending punishment coming clear into view, and it was, once again, because he let his jealousy get the better of him. The rush of momentary power was exhilarating, but not worth the cost of the punishment he was about to receive. “I’m always on top.”

“I-I’m sorry!”

“You’re sorry, what?” Sal was now backed down to lay in the bed as Q hovered over him with lust filled eyes.

“I’m sorry daddy! Please!” Q chuckled as he watched Sal squirm beneath him. He rubs his hand over his clothed erection earning more whimpers as his back arches, seeking more contact from the dominant.

“You’re only saying that because you’re in trouble.” His lips made contact with Sal’s bare skin and littered the untainted skin with marks of his own. His hands were delicate, finger tips tracing over his skin making goosebumps form wherever he touched. Sal’s skin felt like it was on fire. The juxtaposition of Q’s careful hands and his rough mouth made him strain painfully against his boxers, aching for more as he tangled a hand into Q’s hair, physically begging for more sensations, and above all: friction. “You don’t get to cum ‘til I say. Got it?” Q reached underneath the bed and pulled out a box of toys that they had begun collecting since they had been together.

“Please just touch me, I'm sorry, please I need you! I won’t do it again, I'm sorry!” Q promptly removed Sal’s boxers, watching as he sprung free and was twitching like crazy already. This was gonna be fun.

“I don’t want to hear anymore. You’ll learn now. On your stomach.” Sal listened, not wanting anything to be worse. He dreaded what Q was about to do to him, but at the same time, it sent a pleasurable chill down his spine that made pulsate. He felt Q’s hands smooth over the curve of his ass before his cold fingers found their way to Sal’s entrance. He let out a shaky sigh before lube covered fingers found their way in him and stretched him out.

One finger, then another, then another was added. Each time he was stretched out more, the louder his pleasured noises became. Strained mewls, prolonged moans, throat wrenching gasps.

“You should hear yourself, you filthy slut. Making so many noises already and you only have my fingers in you.” The dirty talk only made Sal’s hips buck backward into the fingers that slid in and out of him. His cock was rubbing against the sheets below him and only added to his growing pleasure. His eyes were closed as he savored each sensation. “You take my fingers so well though, don’t you? I know just how to make you feel good, I know you in and out, and I know just how to get you off.” His hot breath was in his ear and it only brought him closer and closer to ecstasy. Truly Q was the only person that knew just how to pleasure him, and his confidence in knowing that as a fact was so hot.

“God, daddy. More! I’m gonna cum!” After that last sentence fell out of his mouth, Sal was left empty as Q removed his fingers. “No, please!”

“Remember sweetheart, you’re getting punished. If you cum at all, it’ll only be worse for you.” Q sat himself on the bed with a hitachi wand in his hand. Back against the headrest, he pulled Sal between his legs and had him resting against his chest. Sal could feel his hard on pressing against his ass, he was always impressed with the will power Q had when it came to being hard. When he fell into a dominant position, he held himself back. Q found more sexual gratification in pleasuring others than himself.

Q placed the wand aside for the moment, and instead, his hand took grasp of Sal’s now leaking cock. A shallow pump around the head of his cock easily made Sal’s hips jerk off the bed and hands grip at the thighs that encased him where he was.

“So sensitive already baby?” Q teased as his hand kept pumping Sal. Sal watched, hypnotized by the hand moving up and down, watching as the tip of his cock poked between the top of Q’s fist only to disappear once again as it rose again. Q would twist his fist, tighten his grip, and kiss and lick at Sal’s exposed skin as he pleasured him, savoring the noises that came out of the submissive. “Tell me baby, tell me how it feels.” Sal was gasping for air and almost felt like he would never be able to form a sentence with the amount of blissed out fog that clouded his brain. “Tell me or I'll stop now and go to bed.” The commanding tone forced Sal’s lips to part as he tried to form anything, something comprehensible.

“It feels… mmm… so… so good. I… I can’t… I–”

“Can’t what sweetheart?” The innocent tone felt mocking. It frustrated Sal as all he wanted to do was cum.

“I just… I just wanna… Cum!” Sal’s hips started bucking into Q’s fist, and Q kept his hand still for just a moment. He watched as Sal tried so desperately to please himself, but as soon as he knew that he was dangerously close, he took his hand away and watched again as Sal squirmed and whined.

“Not so fast Sally. Good things come to those who wait.” He lays tender kisses on the sides of his face and his shoulder as his hands smooth over the skin of his inner thighs, so close to being where Sal wanted them, but never giving him the satisfaction. A hand strayed away and took the hitachi wand that was set aside. “I know just how much you love this toy. The many times I've had you tied up,” he switches it on, low hum filling the room, “left you for hours just to see how much you had in you.” He glides it along Sal’s thighs, hovering around his most sensitive spots where he could sense the vibrations but feel none of the sensation he craved.

Q took the wand and ran it quickly on the underside of Sal’s cock and watched him moan and squirm. Sal kept trying to keep Q’s hand where he wanted it, kept trying to gain some control over everything, but it was no use because Q would simply overpower Sal and pull away, straying him away from climax.

“You’re so impatient.” The teasing went on for what felt like forever to Sal. Circles around the head of his cock, delicate strokes at the base, vibrator held under his balls. No matter how much Sal begged, whined, pleaded, and apologized, it seemed as though Q had tuned him out fully and was getting pure enjoyment out of the sadistic sexual torture he was putting his boyfriend through. He loved watching how much Sal’s cock was twitching at the faintest sensation, how much precum was slowly spilling out of his slit, and all the noises that made that made his own cock pulsate and twitch. He would let out an occasional moan or grunt whenever Sal would buck his hips, causing a little bit of friction on his cock that rested against his back, or whenever he made a particularly delicious sound.

After a while, Sal had once again lost all ability to remotely let out any words that would make any sort of sense. His speech skills had withered away as he drowned in his own pleasure as a means to reach his high that he knew he wouldn’t get to until Q gave him the word.

“Why don’t we have a little change in pace?” Q turned the vibrator off and Sal was yet again left to step away from the edge of euphoria as he was so close once again. He was panting and he looked at his cock; Slick with precum, the once rose colored tip was now red and begging for release, he could feel his crotch pulsating. He was panting and he felt spent but he hadn’t even gotten to cum yet. Q stepped away and reached into the box of toys once again, pulling out a decent sized dildo and giving it to Sal. “Go ahead, pleasure yourself for me.” Sal felt almost like it was a joke, that there was going to be something more. He didn’t question though as he teased his eager hole with the tip of the dildo, pushing himself up against some pillows on the bed and spreading his legs. Q sat across from him, legs touching Sal’s as he watched his lover’s movements closely.

Sal relished in the sensation of the dildo entering him. It didn’t feel nearly as good as Q does, but after the time spent left on edge and feeling empty after Q had removed his fingers, this felt like heaven for him. Slowly, he pushed it all the way in up until the base and he held his motions still, taking in the full sensation that he craved as his head rolled back and his eyes closed, a breathy moan and relieved sigh filled the quiet room.

“Go ahead baby, make as much noise as you want. You know I love it. Put on a show.” Per his request, Sal went on to make a sinfully gorgeous and pornographic display just for his lover. He kept his motions fluid and sensual, biting his lip but never holding back on any noises, mewling out a little ‘yes’ or ‘fuck’ here and there, eyes half hooded and going back and forth between eye contact with Q and his cock that he was stroking in a tight fist. “Tell me how it feels sweetheart.”

“Oh, daddy! It feels so… mmm… so fucking good.” Sal felt himself start to get close again and watching Q get himself off as hard as he was wasn’t helping him hold out at all.

“Yeah?” Q was close, he felt as though he had been teasing himself all evening, but neglecting his own pleasure for however long they had been encased in the bedroom was well worth witnessing the display of sexual torture he had been putting Sal through. He was sadistic, but he knew Sal loved it, it was evident by how much Sal was loving it now.

“Fuck yeah… But it doesn’t feel nearly… nearly as good as you.” He had to take pauses between his words to let out more pleasurable noises, hoping that if Q came, he would get to as well. “Your thick cock in my ass… tearing me in two… and you know… you know I love the pain.” Sal had hit a particularly sweet spot inside of himself and he almost toppled over. He started slowing his movements more despite wanting to cum so badly, but he didn’t want a worse punishment. He knew the next consequence would be not cumming at all or not being able to cum for a period of time no matter how often they had sex.

“I fuck you so good, huh, baby? Better than that piece of silicone you have in your ass? I know you love it rough, I know you love the torture. You just love being dominated, being played with, my little fuck toy.” Q’s fist tightened more and his hand was a blur as he chased his high.

“I want you to fuck me so bad daddy.” Q didn’t need to hear anything else, he was all over Sal. He quickly threw the dildo aside and locked lips with Sal, grinding their hard-ons together as tongues swirled about.

“I’m gonna fuck you better than you ever could with that dildo.” He grunted as he lined himself up with Sal’s entrance.

“Fuck me ‘til I can’t walk.” Q’s eyes met Sal’s in that moment, his normally tender cocoa eyes were gleaming with love, but now, they were filled with a fire ignited from within that spelled out one word: lust.

Q bucked his hips and almost knocked the wind out of Sal in that single motion.

“Gonna cum!” The dirty talk, finally feeling Q inside of him, and the (what felt like) hours of teasing is starting to send him into a spiral of blinding ecstasy.

“You fucking better not! You better hold it in, you do not get to cum yet.” Sal raked his fingers down Q’s back, doing his best to hold on and hold back for his own sake. Tears were streaming down his face, half of it was from pleasure, half of it was from pain because he had been holding back for so long already. Sal’s lips were parted as painful and pleasured cries fell out of his mouth. “That’s right, let the neighbors hear how bad you’ve been, let them know who owns you.”

“Daddy! Please! I… I can’t! I…” It started to become painful, he knew he could safeword at any time and it would be over, but he had come this far and he was going to deal with his punishment. As Q continued thrusting, he felt Sal tighten around him and he felt like he was seeing stars as he was just at the edge,

“Gonna… Fucking… Cum!” With a few rough, slow thrusts, Q buried himself to the hilt as he released himself into Sal with a long moan. Both men were panting, but Q knew that it wasn’t over just yet. He took Sal’s cock in hand and started pumping him hard and fast in a tight fist, “C’mon baby you wanted it so bad, take it. Cum for me!” Sal was practically screaming as he came explosively all over his chest in big thick spurts. Q kept pumping him and pumping him until Sal felt as though there was nothing left in him.

Once his orgasm had finished ripping through him, both were left on the bed panting, exhausted from their strenuous night.

“You Okay?” Q asked as he shifted his head to look at Sal. He didn’t say anything but nodded his head to respond. “You know I'm crazy for you and only you, right?”

“I know,” Sal spoke softly. “I guess it was a bit of the alcohol and my jealousy problems again. You’re just so good looking and I just feel like you could have anyone you want.”

“But I chose you. And I will always choose you.” Sal looked over and smiled. Their lips met in a soft kiss and they giggled together. “Let’s get you cleaned up and in bed. I bet you’re tired as hell… You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, I promise. Even though it was torture, one of the best orgasms I ever felt.” They got up off the bed and went into the bathroom,

“So good you’d want me to do it again?” Q teased.

“Not for a fucking long while!”

“Or whenever your jealousy gets the best of you again and you try to top again.” Q laughed and Sal felt a little ashamed because of it.

“I don’t even know what possessed me to even try and do that.”

“Jealousy.” Sal just rolled his eyes as he stepped into the shower. “C’mon Sally you know i’m just teasing. You love me.” He stepped in behind Sal and peppered his cheek with kisses,

“I guess I do.” He said with a smirk.

#smut #vulquinn #suki writes

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peachypizzicato · 3 years

Note

free gush pass!! :D

oh… oh you picked the wrong bitch to send this to, you’ve opened pandora’s box now /lh

HI MY NAME IS OPAL AND I FUCKING LOVE THE GREEN MAN!!!!!

i don’t even know where to start ive just… been so endeared to gar since the beginning ive got SO much to say!!

like they could’ve easily made him a) your standard one-note fnf mod antagonist, and/or b) just some shitty back-alley dickweed, but they didn’t!!! he’s a person! he has a story and he has a personality and he likes things!! he’s a fucking nerd who sings goofy little songs when doing normal mundane stuff!!! i love him!!!

and i didn’t wanna start with it so as to not sound like some superficial bitch or w/e but YES i also am absolutely enraptured by his design because he’s REALLY CUTE and i will STAND BY THIS!!!

as much as i like to make fun of him for dressing like a hobo (as do like all my friends lmao) i really do be thinkin about the funny lil crooked smile and the fact that he almost always has the half lidded eyes and the DIMPLES!! he’s real scruffy and rough around the edges but i LOVE that about him its so fuckin CHARMING!!!!

idk man i just have so much love in my heart for him y’know, he’s not perfect by any typical standards but im just endlessly endeared to him i jus-

hehehe 💕💕💕

#long post #local fucking simp goes absolutely BALLISTIC #y’all holy shit not to be fuckin gay but i love him so much bro #puts a hand to me heart #ive never really gushed before #much less this hard #but man… man <3 #self ship community #romantic f/o #f/o gush #friday night funkin #smoke em out struggle #fnf garcello #asks #this took a long time only because i had so much to say and had to wrangle in my brain lmao

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mollymauk-teafleak · 3 years

Text

Very Okay

I was consumed with the urge to write some domestic smut so here's some soft dads Widomauk just banging it out at the end of a long week. Huge thanks to my wonderful enablers @spiky-lesbian and @minky-for-short

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Please consider leaving a comment over on Ao3!

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“...and then Una said next week she’s swimming for her Level 2 badge and she’s a little nervous, she’s got to go a whole lap. She’ll be fine, of course, but she has that whole thing about putting her head underwater so we need to make sure we keep an eye on her.”

Molly nodded, shifting so his tail wasn’t trapped under his leg, “She’ll do a wonderful job, she goes through the water like a shark. Literally, with the teeth…”

“And Trinket needs a costume put together, it’s World Book Day on Friday and apparently preschool kids have Fairy Tales as their theme? So I was thinking we could just swipe something from when your theatre group did Midsummer Night’s Dream. It’s a little short notice and I thought that would save you having to sew something new.”

“Yeah, he loves messing around back there anyway,” Molly nodded, pushing a lock of hair behind his ear, trying to angle his chest forward, “So, um…”

“Oh!” Caleb’s finger shot into the air, sending a wave of water over the edge of the tub, “Before I forget! I have to take the kittens to get their vaccinations at the vets tomorrow so if you could watch the bookstore for me, that would be such a huge help.”

“Of course baby, I can do that, but don’t you think we should maybe-”

“Thank you! I promise I’ll be super quick, I have this thing at the Academy, apparently professors are supposed to go to parties? That wasn’t on the job description-”

“Caleb,” Molly couldn’t help himself, reaching up and taking hold of his husband’s face, doing his absolute best not to laugh, “Listen, I love catching up with you but this is our date night and you were kind of about to start fucking me and it seems we’ve stalled a little? If we could get back on that, it would be great.”

Caleb took a few long, slow blinks, his eyes then travelling around him like he was only just noticing the fact that he was sharing a bathtub, naked, pressed up against his equally naked husband. Or rather, remembering that he was, it seemed like he’d been pretty into the idea when he’d been tearing Mollymauk’s clothes off and tipping him into the water.

“Oh,” his face flushed so quickly it can’t have had anything to do with the heat of the water, “I’m killing the mood, aren’t I?”

That was all of Molly’s available composure, he snorted as laughter tore it’s way out of his chest, sending his head knocking back against the rim of the tub. After a few moments, Caleb started giggling too, helplessly putting his hands over his face.

“I mean, it started well,” Molly cackled, hugging his arms around himself, as it happened sharing a tub between two people didn’t leave much water to cover you, “Y’know, growling that you were going to touch me until I screamed, that was a real good start to date night? It only went South when you started coordinating our schedules…”

Caleb groaned, tilting forward until he was resting his head on Molly’s shoulder, strands of hair falling out of his bun and drinking the water, “Sorry...There was just one thing I wanted to tell you and then it kept going.”

“It’s alright,” Molly chuckled, still cradling his head, pressing his lips to his head, “I do feel like we’ve hardly talked this week.”

“That’s just it!” Caleb sighed, melting a little in his husband’s arms, gingerly letting him take his weight, “Between the store and now me being an associate professor and you doing tech week, I feel like I only see you when I bump into you in the hallway.”

Molly had to admit he was right. Of course he was endlessly proud of his husband, the fact that he’d had the courage to even step over the threshold of the Soltryce Academy after everything he’d been through there, let alone accept a job and try and make the place better, was incredible. Making this huge step in his recovery all while maintaining the little bookstore he’d been running for the last few years, coming home tired and smiling every day, satisfied and certain of his place in the world. It was everything Molly had wanted for him.

But he couldn’t lie, he was starting to miss him.

Mollymauk smiled softly as he traced his fingers through his hair, “Well, I’m kind of glad it’s not just me who was thinking that...that’s kind of why I asked if we could make tonight a date night.”

Molly felt Caleb deflate a little in his arms, “And I turned it into some kind of press conference. I’m sorry, Mollymauk.”

Starting to purr, the tiefling’s tail found its way around Caleb’s leg, squeezing like some kind of comforting snake, “I’ll hear no apologies from you, Mr Caleb. What I wanted was to spend time with you and that’s what I’ve got. Minus clothes too, which is a nice bonus.”

Caleb made a soft, decisive noise, pulling himself back up, bracing his hands on the rim of the bath either side of Molly’s head.

“But if I went back to that whole ‘touch you until you scream’ thing? Would that be alright?” his smile turned crooked.

Molly unsuccessfully suppressed an undignified squeak of mixed shock and arousal, his smile flaring into a full blown grin.

“Oh that would be pretty okay too, yeah.”

Caleb gave one of those rough, rumbling laughs that Molly loved so much, the ones that only came out when Molly knew he was about to become the sole focus of Caleb’s not inconsiderable attention, when the brain that normally went in ten different directions and most of those on other planes of reality, was about to zero in on him and him alone.

Molly yelped as he felt surprisingly strong arms slide under him and lift him out of the water, sending rain pattering down from their bodies.

“Babe!” Molly locked his arms around his shoulders like a vice, “This is romantic and all but you’ve got skinny noodle arms!”

“Charming,” Caleb snorted, “You don’t weigh all that much, Liebling. I won’t drop you.”

Before Molly could properly address his doubt about that- he’d once watched his husband struggle for twenty minutes to open a jar of peanut butter that wasn’t even new- they were moving, water scattering generously along the hallway. Apparently lifting books all day was better for your upper body strength than Mollymauk had realised because, true to his word, Molly wasn’t dropped until he was tumbled into bed, Caleb following pretty soon after.

Eagerly he dragged him closer, pressing their lips together, barely letting a heartbeat pass before he slid his tongue across Caleb’s. He hiked his legs up around his husband’s waist like he was anchoring him there, like any bare inch between their bodies was just unbearable. Caleb’s hands felt like they were everywhere, so much so that Molly wasn’t convinced there wasn’t magic involved. Just the warm, roughened touch of his broad hands sliding across his shoulders, following the curve of his spine to press their bodies closer, kneading the softness of his thighs. Everywhere he needed him, Caleb was there and still it didn’t feel like enough.

Almost the exact moment he had that thought, he was turning, rolling, until suddenly he was on top and Caleb was grinning wickedly up at him, his normally bright blue eyes dark with want.

“Want to ride my tongue, Liebling?” he purred roughly, knowing the answer full well but still wanting to hear him say it.

Molly obliged him, whimpering, “Oh fuck yes.”

It wasn’t that people would look at Mollymauk and expect him to always prefer the dominant role in bed, he was well aware of the vibes he gave off and cultivated them carefully (though if anyone were to let their gaze linger more closely they’d notice the two fingernails on his right hand kept deliberately short). It was more that they would notice Caleb, hiding behind his hair and hunching his shoulders and never speaking above a low murmur and never imagine him as the kind of person to take control. Of anything really, let alone someone like Molly. He didn’t look like he could command a one person canoe in a swimming pool.

How little they knew.

Molly gripped the headboard so hard that the nails he did keep long and wickedly sharp bit into the wood, levering himself up a little, bracketing Caleb’s head with his knees. He hovered at first, even as his thighs trembled with anticipation, with the intense sensation of those eyes examining him meticulously. Suddenly he was incredibly aware of how wet he was, conscious of every bead of slick, every pulse of heat through him, the stiffness of his cock.

No one would look at Caleb and see a man capable of nearly making his husband come from eyes alone.

“So cruel of me to make you wait,” Caleb’s voice was a rumble in his chest, “And yet you look so beautiful when you’re desperate…”

“Caleb,” Molly whined, teeth gritted, the lightest brush of his husband’s breath enough to make him beg shamelessly, “Please.”

“My apologies,” Caleb’s accent got noticeably thicker when he was turned on, like the part of his brain usually keeping him in Common was slipping. Or perhaps he just knew it drove Molly wild, “Just admiring…”

He took hold of Molly’s thighs and pulled him down, until Molly felt the rough scrape of his beard against his flesh, the contact after so long waiting wrenching a soft cry from him. Then he felt his wizard’s lips part, his tongue, warmer, trace a teasing path between the valley of him and the cry became a throaty moan. He couldn’t help it, almost immediately he was rocking his hips, seeking more, every nerve ending screaming for it.

Caleb tapped his thigh smartly, half in warning that he hadn’t given permission, half in warning that- while drowning in him would be a rather pleasant way to go- he’d prefer not to go at all if the option was there. Molly forced himself to still, even as it made him ache between the legs, tipping his head back and taking deep, desperate gulps of air.

Back in control, Caleb rewarded him with broad, generous strokes of his tongue, keeping it flat so Molly felt every inch of it. He took his cock in his mouth, rolling it around his tongue, scraping lightly with his teeth, kissing and lapping and sucking like he was eating some fruit. Finally, he found his entrance, probing gently and then far less gently, pulling him close so he could plunge deeper.

Molly was as vocal as ever, clinging to the headboard for dear life, tail stiff and straight in the air. He’d learned, he kept his hips still but there was no need, Caleb was in control. He rocked him back and forth, using every ounce of this surprising strength, giving Mollymauk everything he needed, leaving him nothing left to take.

Molly’s frantic, formless moans and screams haphazardly threw themselves into something close to words, “Caleb, I...oh fuck, baby, I’m...gonna…”

Through the haze of it all, he felt two quick taps on his thigh, Caleb’s affirmative answer. His signal that it was okay to fall, that Caleb would catch him.

And so he did. A last scream tearing its way from his raw throat, Molly’s shoulders locked and his chin hit his chest as it all rolled through him, as it lit him up from the inside out. He couldn’t have said how long it lasted, only that when it was done with him he felt as exhausted as he ever had. Enough that when he started to sway too hard and fell, he didn’t have the strength to catch himself.

But Caleb did. Moving quickly, he sat up and wrapped his arms around his husband, snagging him before he could tumble off the bed.

“Easy there…” he panted, grinning.

Molly’s eyelids felt leaden but he couldn’t bear not to look at Caleb right now, smiling wonkily back and leaning into his embrace, “You are fucking magical.”

Caleb giggled, gently laying him down against the pillows, curling on his side beside him. The lower half of his face was shining in the low light, his smile soft and shy and sweet again. Molly reached up and laid a gentle hand on his cheek, like he was worried he would disappear if he didn’t.

Caleb caught his wrist, turning his head and pressing a kiss to his palm, “I’m right here, Liebling. I’m right here.”

Molly exhaled in gentle relief, his eyes slowly gaining focus, “You...lie next to me. Tell me everything you want to tell me, all about your day, all about...everything. I just want to listen to you. And then when my brain puts itself together it's your turn. Okay?”

Caleb nodded, eyes wide and eager and loving, “Very okay.”

#widomauk #modern au #critical role #smut #caleb widogast #mollymauk tealeaf #trans mollymauk

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the-wolf-who-kissed-the-moon · 3 years

Text

• Randvi x female reader 💋

• Warning: explicit sexual content.

a sapphire for your heart, part VIII.

A pair of lips so soft and full of passion caressed your throat like the blade of a dagger, smooth and equally dangerous; yet you’ve never felt more exhilarated to be consumed. Your body naturally arched into your captor's overwhelming heat, shamelessly seeking more. Every drop of reason left your mind, dissipating into the ether like mist. It no longer mattered what they would think or say, or do; in that moment you only existed for Randvi, and she, for you.

With legs tangled and hips swaying back and forth, the forbidden flame of sapphic desire quickly grew between the two of you. Her breath was steaming against your skin as she drew her parted lips along your soft jaw, and then down the lithe hill of your windpipe. You shivered as she kissed you there.

“Randvi…”

You implored.

She sighed with deep satisfaction as she pressed her body down against yours to feel you better. Her jaw fell open and she latched her mouth to your pulse, spoiling you with languid kisses; and then, stinging pain shot through your body like a furious bolt of lighting. You stilled as you felt sharp teeth gently penetrating the delicate layers of your skin. Randvi’s bite was silent and feral, pinning you down by your throat like a wolf would its prey; and oh, what a willing prey you were…Too inebriated by her unhinged passion, all you could muster was a breathless moan as you felt her large palms free your wrists and slowly inch towards your chest.

You took her in your arms then, clutching her shoulder blades in sweet anticipation. Though her bite had softened, you were stiff from head to toe, trembling at the divine feeling of her palm cupping your breast. Those roughened fingers were miraculously skilled, effortlessly giving you pleasure even over the coarse fabric of your tunic; squeezing, gripping, slow-massaging your tender mounds as you naturally danced into the flowing motion of her hand.

The sizzling pain around your throat lessened when Randvi relaxed her jaw and drew the velvety flat of her tongue over raw teeth marks and beautiful bruises. Her love was embedded into your skin.

As she slowly drew away, you felt her body shift against yours with every sensual movement of her sturdy legs and plentiful hips. You were completely mesmerized as her charms begun to unfold; her sultry gaze darkened and her voice was but a hushed murmur, dripping with arousal.

“I want to touch you… more…”

You shivered. Heat pooled between your legs, sizzling and spreading along your limbs like wild fire. Quickly, you unclipped the brooch holding her shawl and furs together, letting them fall off her broad shoulders. Disheveled tresses caressed your flushed cheek as Randvi leaned closer to kiss your parched lips, generously penetrating your mouth with deep strokes of her sensual tongue. The taste of her mouth was invigorating, like fresh spring peppered with burning flames. You moved your tongue against hers slowly, until your mouths were wildly ravishing one another.

“mmh…”

“..aah…”

Soft cries resounded in your secret little meadow, followed swiftly by the rustling of clothes coming undone. Randvi’s hands were at your hips, gently pinching the hem of your tunic as you raised your arms above your head and allowed her to strip you. The absence of warm fabric made you suddenly feel cold; a feeling which quickly melted under your beautiful Viking’s heated mouth. She left a wet trail of languid kisses down your chest whilst she enjoyed the smooth plains of your hips and stomach with her palms. Warrior hands that wielded heavy axes were now so tender and soft, giving love; each tap of her rough fingertips along your waist making you twist in delight beneath her. You found leverage in her shoulders once more as you gripped and pulled her tunic up, revealing magnificent back muscles to the moon's peeking gaze.

Sizzling tremors rushed through your body, burning even hotter down below. Randvi’s mouth still lingered on your chest, enjoying your soft breasts with open-mouthed kisses as she pushed your mounds together in between her large hands, rubbing them slowly. You breathlessly whispered her name whilst exploring the well-defined dunes and valleys of her sturdy arms, worshiping every inch of her beautiful body. She was indeed a fearsome woman, with deep scars marking her youthful flesh, reminders of battles she’d won. With a sudden movement, Randvi sat up and helped herself out of her tunic, revealing her magnificent chest in the soft glow of the early morning.

You were in awe.

You’ve pictured her nude in your dirty little dreams, yet to see her in the flesh, in all of her strong, muscular, womanly glory left you gasping for sweet air. You pushed yourself up to embrace her and indulge in the taste of her flowery skin. Her breasts were incredibly soft, plush mounds of heaven, overflowing in the palm of your hand. And oh, how beautifully she moaned as you left little love bites here and there across her chest.

The cold grass tickled your bare skin as Randvi slowly laid you back onto the ground. You took a moment to simply gaze into one another’s eyes, so full of lust and unspoken promises. She hovered over you, propped onto a strong arm to keep herself elevated as she explored your body with the delicate tips of her fingers. Your eyes were hazy with arousal, silently imploring, aching for rougher, bolder, more intimate touches.

“Lower…”

You moaned. Mischief flooded Randvi’s gaze as she leaned closer to murmur against the shell of your ear. You embraced her firmly, ravenous for her aggressive passion; yet her touch was slow and meticulous, her thumb endlessly circling your sensitive nipple until it was almost raw.

“Lower?...”

She teased and you bit the inside of your cheek. Gods, how could she torture you like this? Her words only aroused you further, and you instinctively pushed your hips up against hers, alluding to what you terribly needed. Merciless fingertips traveled back and forth across your stomach, only barely trespassing the edge of your trousers. A soft breath left your kiss-swollen lips, an invitation for her to take your mouth again; and she did.

You dived into the deeply satisfying feeling of her godly body, at times sweetly caressing the back of her neck, only to savagely grip her shoulders and sink your nails into her lean flesh. She pressed her chest down onto yours as she hooked her fingers into your belt and twisted the buckle until it broke. You pulled free from her sweet lips, breathing heavily when she pinched the buttons of your trousers apart.

Oh, that long awaited moment...

The warmth of her palm enveloped your sensitive vulva, making you tremble with each inch of forbidden skin her knowing fingers explored. You slowly begun to lose control, moans spilling free from your parted lips, for she knew precisely how to feed the flames of your desire. Her hand moved back and forth easily, albeit constricted by the tightness of your trousers. Skilled fingers delicately parted your damp folds, caressing in between them with come hither motions from your burning core up to your swollen rose bud. With each stroke she’d dive a little deeper in between your folds, and then linger a little longer on your aroused clit, teasing you around the edges with just enough pressure to keep you suspended in that torturous moment of not quite enough.

Her passionate mouth caressed your shoulder, pursing to slowly kiss the length of your delicate collarbones. It burned so good. You clutched her beautiful braid and pulled the leather strap from it, freeing auburn locks. She was breathtaking with her rust-gold tresses touching her handsome cheeks and flowing over her bare shoulders. Sensually, you massaged the tight muscles on either side of her graceful spine, until your firm grip found her hips. She stopped you for a moment –

Confused, you sought her gaze, yet you were relieved to still find passion burning deep within those blue gems.

“Take my weapons and put them aside… but careful… not to hurt yourself.. “

She murmured against the apple of your cheek as she shifted her hips lightly, unwilling to take her hand out of your pants. With trembling fingers, you pulled a heavy axe from her belt, trying your hardest to push it as far away as possible. Then, you removed a dagger from the strap on her left thigh and two smaller axes from the back of her belt, finally freeing your way to touch her more. The act of stripping her off her battle weapons was oddly intimate, as if she put her trust into your hands completely. Without restraints, you groped the back of her thighs and squeezed her closer, groping and fondling her plump bottom.

Touch-starved, Randvi swayed into your hands sensually, more than thrilled to feel your palms beneath her lower layers. You indulged in feeling up her womanly shapes, greedily spreading your fingers to loosen the hem of her pants and ease that intrusive fabric down her curvy hips. Her thighs were firm like mountains, yet soft at the surface like sweet rose petals; a leverage for you to hold on as you moved against her stroking fingers.

Pleasure came in deep waves, nearly pushing you over the limits of physical bliss; but then she stopped and you had to bite the inside of your cheek to silence a pitiful cry of frustration. What a devil, you thought, and yet you couldn’t help but adore her.

“Shh…”

She cooed, sweetly. Her palm pressed down on your heated vulva, holding you very still in spite of your hips softly struggling for friction. You felt the tip of her perfect nose nudge your cheek, and so you turned your head to meet her gaze; ardor burned deep within those precious azure eyes. Plush lips ghosted over yours, only teasing you with a kiss, as if you weren’t struggling for mercy already. You obediently forced your hips still, allowing her complete control of your whole being.

There was a hint of a smirk at the corner of her beautiful mouth as she drew closer. You closed your eyes, shivering in sweet anticipation of another kiss and the touch of her smooth fingers inching towards your pulsing core.

- To be continued…

*part IX.

#randvi x reader #randvi fanfiction #randvi #randvi valhalla #lesbian love #lesbian fanfic #sapphic love

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illfoandillfie · 4 years

Text

The Come Down

Pairing: 70s!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Summery: It's hard for Roger to unwind after the excitement of playing a gig. But you have a favourite way to help him.

Warnings: SMUT (18+), but also quite fluffy, rough sex, enough to leave marks but nothing overly kinky, some hair pulling, scratching, shower sex.

Words: 4226

A/N: This started life as a blurb about brushing Roger's hair - a thought I haven't been able to shake for at least a week - but gradually turned into a full on smut fest lmao. I guess Rog just has that effect on me...

Taglist: @laedymoon @dtfrogertaylor @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @supersonicfreddie @taron-egrotten @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies

It’s Pavlovian, the way you react to Roger’s playing. If he wasn’t so charming you’d curse him for it. How all you have to hear is him counting everyone into the first song of the night and already you’re thinking about later, about what happens when you get home. Most weeks are the same though you’d never call it a routine. That sounds too boring, too predictable and Roger is anything but boring and predictable. But there is a pattern forming. And it all starts with that fucking count. The way he twirls his drumstick as he settles himself to play. He’s wired from the beginning, from even before they get on stage. Bouncing on the balls of his feet as they get ready, endlessly joking and playfully teasing. So much so that your side hurts from laughing just a little bit. And that energy, that excitement, only grows as they play. Feeding off the noise of the smoke-filled bar and the way people cheer and his mates playing beside him. You watch him every show, close to the front though a little to the side of the stage. He can’t see you anyway and being out of the main crush of people makes it easier to get to the bar again if you want another drink. Not that you ever do. You’re too entranced by it all. The way the four boys perform, make it look so effortless, though you’ve heard the spats and hours of practice that prove it’s not. The way the crowd follows them and spurs them on. Girls with eyes glued to the fingers roaming over frets and plucking at strings. Voices slurred with alcohol or rough from yelling or husky from smoking, all mixed as they call out names of favourite songs and cheer no matter what gets played next. Your attention wanders back to Roger more than anyone else though. Hands rapidly flying from one drum to another, his whole body caught up in the movement, twirling his sticks between notes because he can and he wants everyone to know it. His head tipped back, flung forward, hair and eyes wild. You don’t quite understand how his hair doesn’t get in his way, doesn’t annoy him with the way it flicks around every time he moves. But it mustn't because he refuses to cut it whenever you make the suggestion.

By the time their set is drawing to a close you’re feeling pretty fired up yourself, high from second hand smoke and the bass drum vibrating through your bones and the way Roger’s glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, his shirt open, the necklace you gave him glinting as it catches what little light there is. The final notes ring out, overwhelmingly loud, and you know that’s your cue. Ducking under arms and squeezing between people as you push back to the bar to order the usual after gig round of drinks. The barman knows you by now, so you don’t have to say anything before he’s pulling out glasses, a mixture of shots and pints and a couple of cocktails thrown in for colour, and by the time the selection is laid out before you the boys have materialised at your side. Roger is quick to wrap his arm around your waist as you all down a few shots and then grab the rest of your drinks and head to a table. The lack of space between you and he doesn’t stop a couple of bold women from approaching, flirting with him as they congratulate the band on another great show. He thanks them, polite but uninterested in whatever they’re trying to offer, and pushes on with you tucked tightly to his side.

For a while you just hang out but Roger’s still completely amped. Half his beer is gone the first time he brings the glass to his lips and he fidgets in his seat, restless energy personified. He’d play a whole second set if he was asked. No one asks. Instead he crosses his legs, un-crosses them, slouches low, sits up, arm on the back of your chair then dropped to grab your hand then rubbing your knee then tapping the top of the table. His laugh is frequently heard cutting through the noisy conversations around you as he leans across the table, sits back, slides lower in the chair and then pops up straighter once more. Never still for long. It’s a relief when Brian suggests packing everything into the van. You help them wind up cords, carry amps out the back door. When everything’s packed away there’s more drinking and joking around. Roger’s hands wander a little further, unashamedly squeezing your arse or sliding up your thigh until you remind him where you are. The room feels ten times warmer than it did before and you wouldn’t have stopped him except your sat across from his best mates and something about the way he’s touching you makes you think he doesn’t have the cognitive awareness to recognise that. He’s just got too much adrenaline, too much energy he doesn’t know what to do with, fogging up his brain. He obviously has ideas though, the same ideas you’ve been trying to ignore since he first sat down at his kit. He leans towards your ear, asks if you’re ready to leave. You nod, say goodnight to the others. Roger tells them to stay out of mischief, voice a little louder than it needs to be. “Look who’s talking,” “They’ll be no mischief on my watch, I’ll look after him.” “Y/N you’re an enabler,” “As long as he’s not getting arrested,” “Oi, fuck off,” “Quick Y/N, get him home before he slags off the wrong person,” There’s laughter and a round of see you laters, a few nicknames the boys wouldn’t want their mothers to hear, before you exit the bar, Roger’s arm around you once more.

His voice is still loud on the drive home and he taps out a beat on the steering wheel, antsy, eager to continue the night unobserved by everyone else. Your ears are still ringing so you can only imagine what’s going on in his head – a play by play of the best parts of the set probably. A song he likes comes on the radio so he turns it up loud, winds his window down, grinning at you, letting the whole neighbourhood hear the whine of the guitars. “We should cover this one,” he half shouts, accelerating a little, the rhythm of his tapping fingers changing to match the music, “Fuck! We should cover it! Bri’d go feral for the chance to play it,” You agree though you aren’t sure he hears you. You’re lucky he hasn’t started air drumming along. It happened once before, his foot suddenly hitting the break as he put it down in time with the song’s beat. You’d only been going slow then so all you’d had to deal with was a honk from the car behind you. Roger apologised, promised to be more careful, and you laughed it off. It’s a bit of a wonder he hasn’t ever repeated the mistake with how into the music he gets, how absentmindedly he drives, especially after a show and a few drinks. Muscle memory and second nature. Maybe he shouldn’t be driving but you live close enough that it doesn’t even cross your mind to call a cab. The song fades out and is replaced by yours. The song that was playing in the second hand store you’d met at. Roger takes his eyes off the road to find yours, smiles, clearly thinking about that day. You’d been trying on a dress you’d found, modelling it for a friend to get her opinion, when Roger had complemented your look, suggested adding a fur coat to it. He offered his own but said he’d need your number so he could get it back. You’d laughed at the line but decided you could afford to reward his boldness and written your number on the back of his hand. The coat had kept you warm for the rest of the day and many since. You’re about to say something about the memory, ask Roger if he really thought the pickup line would work (judging by the look on his face when you’d pulled a pen from your bag and grabbed his hand, he hadn’t) but he’s already singing along, hand squeezing your thigh again as his attention shifts back to the road. He glances at you a few more times, encourages you to sing along by holding his closed fist in front of your face like it’s a microphone. He keeps singing as he pulls up in front of your apartment, turns off the engine, steps out of the car. You meet him at the edge of the driveway where he grabs your hand and twirls you around in a circle, both of you giggling. And then he’s heading inside, up the stairs, pulling you along with him.

Your heart is beating faster now, fully aware of what’s coming, like one of Roger’s drum solos playing out against your chest. Roger doesn’t disappoint. He opens the door with enough force to make it bounce off the wall behind it, helping it shut with a kick from his foot. His hands are well and truly occupied, resuming their path over your body, grabbing and squeezing. There’s a flurry of movement from his hands, like he isn’t sure where to start or rather like he’s eager to start everywhere all at once, before he focuses in on your shirt and getting it off of you. It hits the ground carelessly as you walk backwards, further into the apartment, but Roger’s fingers are already working at the fly of your jeans. He gets the button undone, gets distracted trying to kiss you without overbalancing. His hands slide over your stomach, your sides, down to grab your arse and pull you into him. It’s only then he remembers the zip on your pants and moves one hand back to pull it down. You start removing his clothes but you’re too slow for his liking. He has energy to burn and he wants to burn it right away. No stopping to savour the moment, no slowly working up to the big finale. No, he wants to be in you already. And it’s impossible to pretend you haven’t been thinking about exactly that since right back at the start of the evening. You kick your jeans across the floor as Roger tears his own clothes off. There’s enough time for half a breath before he spins you around to face the wall, pushes your back to make you bend at the waist. He doesn’t bother to remove your underwear at all. Fiddling with the clasp of your bra would be too time consuming and why bother pushing panties down when you can pull them to the side instead. He laughs as he realises just how damp the crotch of your knickers is. “Good. Don’t need to worry about fingers.” You gasp, tense up as he plunges into you. His grip on your hip is tight enough that the tips of his fingers have turned white, keeping you in place as he roughly fucks you. A small scratch appears in the wallpaper as you try to find a sturdy grip. An impossible task. You have to make do as best you can, relying on Roger to hold you in place. “Love how wet you get from watching us play,” “Just you, Rog,” you whimper as he uses you. He laughs, somehow grasps you even tighter, “Good. My needy little groupie.” He nips at your neck and you turn your head, lips opening with a whimper as he pushes himself deeper into your heat. The kiss is messy, teeth colliding as he tries to release all that pent up energy he’s been carrying around since he exited the stage. You don’t cum that first time, you never do. It’s about Roger’s need for release, Roger’s excess energy, not yours. But you don’t mind. He’s gone above and beyond for you plenty of times before and he’ll do the same plenty more to come. The least you can do is be a pliant hole for him to get off in after each gig.

You stay bent over, palms pressed firmly against the wall, as Roger gives a few extra thrusts, prolonging his own pleasure, before he pulls out. You stay there as he leans against you almost hidden by a curtain of his own hair, panting heavily in your ear, until he can find it in him to stand up. You stay there, with his hand on your back to keep you in place until he sees his cum dribble from your cunt. He’s calmed a bit, the bounce in his step a little less pronounced, but he can be worn out further. He needs more, needs to fully come down from the high of playing, if he wants to get a wink of sleep. When you regain your full height and turn to face him, he kisses you. He almost catches you off guard with it, making you pull in a sharp breath as his lips meet yours and he presses you into the wall. You feel completely breathless when he pulls back, dizzy from the taste of him. You both laugh softly as you look at each other, still so close you’re breathing each other’s air. “You’re sweaty,” you say softly, , dragging one palm down his chest, pouting a little. The statement is fact but it’s also code for please keep fucking me. It’s the sexy kind of sweaty. “That’s what happens when you play drums and then come home and fuck a slut,” You try to hide the shiver his tone sends along your spine, how hungry for more one little degrading name can make you. Unsuccessfully judging by the way Roger winks at you. He knows you too well, knows which buttons to push to turn you into the needy slut he so enjoys using and you so enjoy being for him. Not that it takes much to get you there, especially after he’s dropped a quick load in you and left you eager for your own release. If you had the space you’d drop to your knees to clean his cock with your tongue, taste yourself on him. But he’s still got you up against the wall, boxed in by his arms, so instead you bite your lip and give him a look that you hope comes across as either sexy innocence or sultry seductress. He laughs again, leans into your ear, “You need it that bad, love?” You just nod as he catches your earlobe between his teeth and gently tugs. There’s no point pretending otherwise. “You’ve wanted it all night, haven’t you?” He pouts back at you, teasing, mocking you for being so easy, “Let’s give her what she wants then.” He’s hasn’t quite finished speaking when he grabs your hand and pulls you into the kitchen. Sometimes you make it to the bedroom, sometimes you don’t. Tonight there’s no chance, or at least not until you’ve taken him a few times. He clears off the small square table where you eat most of your meals with a sweep of his arm, sheets of uni notes and scrawled ideas for the band fluttering to the floor, beaten there by the loud thump of one of his biology textbooks. The moment the surface is free he’s lifting you onto it, pulling your underpants off as you focus on your bra. When it too has joined the mess on the floor you lie back, arms around Roger’s neck to keep him close, the cold pendant hanging from his necklace making you shiver as it gets caught between you. He kisses you again, bites your lip with a smile and then dips his head towards your chest instead. You twist the ends of his sweat damp hair around your fingers as he enters you again. It’s not quite the same as when he took you against the wall moments before but it’s still rough, fast, hard. The first time he fucked you like that you were surprised such an angelic, pretty, soft boy could be such a devil. Biting you, pulling on your hair, leaving you with marks from how tight he held you. But you left him with marks too, nails digging into his arms and back, tugging on his hair as much as he tugged on yours. He’d just laughed when he saw the scratches in the mirror. Laughed and told you he loved you for the first time. A lot of firsts that day. He says it again now, words gasped between rapid breaths and those little whines he makes. You’d say it back except you’re not sure how to form words anymore, aside from fuck and god and his name if he’s lucky. He doesn’t mind though, he always enjoys making you speechless. You moan as he mouths at your neck, pounding into you like a fucking jackhammer, and he raises his head just enough to gloat. “Feels good doesn’t it love?” You’d call him an arse if he’d just slow down and let you breathe, a cocky bastard, a big-headed prick. You must manage to stutter one of them out because Roger responds. “T-think you mean epic – fucking – shag,” there’s a few panted breaths and then an order to rub your clit and you don’t even consider disobeying, slipping a hand between your bodies to find it. Your so close already, wound up beyond belief, eyes screwed shut and body arching as you moan. It only takes a few more moments for your climax to hit, accompanied by a violent thumping from the other side of the wall that you barely hear and that Roger only laughs at.

When you can open your eyes again they meet Roger’s. He’s still leaning over you, both palms braced against the table top, but he lowers himself a little to kiss you, smiling against your lips. You mewl as he pulls out of you once more but he swallows the sound. Slowly he retreats, pushes his hair back from his face and then takes your hand to help you sit up. He stays standing between your legs, kisses you a few more times as you both relearn how to breathe properly. His nose bumps against your cheek as he finds your lips once more, like a cat displaying affection. It’s a much softer kiss. “How’re you feeling?” “Mmhmm, good,” your voice sounds raspy to you so you swallow as best you can before saying more, “need a shower.” He laughs again, a soft puff of air against your mouth as he rests his forehead against yours, “Always so practical.” “One of us has to be,” “So you keep saying. D’you think you can stand?” “Let’s find out. Get ready to catch me.” Roger helps you down, helps you stand on shaky legs, helps you walk to the bathroom. He insists on helping you into the shower too, saying he feels responsible for your lack of mobility since he’s the one who fucked you so well. You bat his shoulder but let him accompany you into the bathroom and under the steaming water. “Mr Johnson next door hates us by the way,” he said it with a grin, looking very happy with himself, “Think we might have been overheard,” another laugh, his hand sliding from your waist to press against your pussy. You lean against Roger as his fingers rub over you, collecting the evidence of the evening so far, sliding along your slit before pressing into you. “Think we can piss everyone off a little more though, don’t you,” You agree with a soft moan, the sound echoing around the small bathroom as Roger pulls his fingers free, lifts your leg, slides into you once again, pressing you against the cold tiles on the wall. Its much slower that time. Partly because of the location, partly because Roger isn’t as hyped as he was before you got home. He holds you tightly though as you whine into his neck, his fingers on your clit. The noise makes your head spin, the drops of water hitting the floor of the shower, his grunts and encouraging words mixed with your own sighs and moans, all of it bouncing around the room, layered over each other. Your orgasm builds relatively slowly, kept alive by the constant pressure around your clit more than the cock buried in you. And Roger doesn’t chase his release like before, doesn’t thrust into you forcefully. Rather, he just holds you as close as possible, bucking his hips a little but mostly just enjoying the way you clench around him as you get closer to the edge. He swears in response to the way you tighten, warns you he’s close. You reach up and drag your fingers through his hair, press your lips to the base of his throat. He doesn’t hold out much longer, running out of energy to maintain control like that, pressing you firmly against the wall as he fills you again. His fingers fall from your clit as he shudders through his release but it’s only a momentary lapse, the pressure back even as you whine at the loss. You both know you’re close, Roger leaning into your ear to tell you to let go, to cum for him. When it does hit, it’s not an earth-shattering orgasm. You don’t see stars, don’t scream, don’t collapse in an exhausted heap. You let out a soft whine against Roger’s skin as warmth spreads through you, calm and nice. He rubs his hand over your hip until you let go of his hair, let your foot drop back to the floor. The steady stream of water reminds you where you are as Roger kisses the top of your head. He asks how you feel now, stops hovering quite so close when you say you’re fine to stand on your own. But he doesn’t go further than the corner of the shower, watching as you wash your hair and lather yourself in soap, just in case. He gives you a hand out when you’re clean but stays under the shower himself while you get changed and take care of your post-sex routine. When you glance back at him he’s got his eyes closed, head tilted back, relaxing.

You’re sitting in bed, a book open in your lap, though you aren’t really reading it, when you hear the shower close off, the soft pad of wet feet, and Roger appears in the doorway. He digs around in his clothes for a minute, finds some clean underwear and slips them on quietly. He smiles at you, a soft sleepy sort of a smile, as he takes the towel to his head, trying to wring as much water from his hair as possible. When he can’t be bothered with it anymore he lets the towel drop to the floor, a problem for tomorrow much like the rest of the mess you made through the apartment. A trail of lust fuelled destruction you’ll need to pick up and put away. He grabs a hairbrush from the top of the chest of draws and sits beside you, trying to hide a yawn. “Tired?” “No,” Roger lies, settling himself and beginning to work the brush through his locks. “Well I am so if you were planning on starting another round you’ll have to do it on your own,” He shakes his head as he tugs the brush through a particularly knotted section, “I’ll keep – fuck – I’ll keep that in mind. You got any spare socks I can use?” You laugh but Roger winces as the brush gets caught once again. “Jesus, knew I should have used more conditioner,” “You want some help with that?” “Yes please,” You mark your page and place the book to the side before pushing yourself to your knees and shuffling closer to Roger. He turns around so his back is to you, handing the brush over his shoulder. Slowly and carefully you start to untangle the knots his hair has twisted into, pulling the brush through small sections over and over until it runs smooth. “You ever think ab-” “I’m not cutting it Y/N,” “Just a suggestion,” “If I cut it you’d have nothing to hold on to.” “Fair enough,” You keep chatting as you brush Roger’s hair, able to feel him relax against you, the tension leaving his shoulders and neck, able to hear the exhaustion in every word he says. By the time you’re done his eyelids are drooping, every ounce of the overabundance of energy gone. “C’mon babe, time for bed,” you say, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Roger just nods, shuffles around until he can crawl under the covers. You put the hairbrush on your bedside table and join him, laying on your side to face him. He takes one of your hands, lazily tugs it to his lips. “Love you,” “Love you too, Rog,” He lets his eyes close but doesn’t release you. Not until he’s well and truly asleep.

#my fics #my writing #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor smut #roger taylor x reader #look i just love writing boys who are cocky little shits but also very somft

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melodious-madrigals · 4 years

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“person A grows a beard; how does person B react?” -wondertrev edition

***

It's almost midnight, but Diana is just getting home. She's been on a business trip for the better part of a week, and is endlessly relieved to be back. She opens the door, already feeling the tension drain from her shoulders at the prospect of seeing Steve, and makes her way to their bedroom, where she suspects Steve will still be up, reading.

She enters, drops her bags, and when she finally focuses on him, blinks in dismay.

"What is that?"

Steve looks up from his novel. "Hello to you too."

Diana just stares at him in abject horror.

"Your face," she manages, inelegantly.

"Oh," says Steve, reaching up and running a hand over the several day old stubble now adorning his chin. "Something new I'm trying."

"No." It falls out softly, reflexively, without her brain's permission, and immediately her hand comes up to cover her mouth. "Sorry," she says, at his amused look. "It's your body."

"How do you really feel?" Steve asks, mirth in his eyes. The war inside her is evident: she clearly hates the beard, and is also not willing to insert herself into his bodily autonomy, something she feels strongly about on every level. He chokes down a laugh at the expression on her face, tries not to betray how funny he finds the whole situation.

"That it's your body, but I'm the one who has to look at it," she says finally, her bluntness winning. Steve's pretty sure it's a subtle mark of trust that she's willing to say it aloud.

He's not offended in the slightest, and doesn't pretend to be. "Noted," he says, "So far it's working for me, but I'm still experimenting."

"Hmm," Diana says, doing her best not to be too disapproving. She drops the subject, but takes another moment to glare at the beard before proceeding on to more normal conversation.

"It's itchy," complains Diana the next day, as it scratches against her cheek in an unfamiliar way.

"You're telling me," says Steve. "The first few days were hell." It was only after everything grew in that the itching stopped.

Diana, trying hard not to be petulant in her dislike for Steve's beard, once again moves on, silencing her misgivings and resigning herself to the ticklish sensation of the scruff scraping across her face and neck when they kiss. She'll get used to it.

Probably.

Perhaps her vendetta against the beard would not be nearly so pronounced if there weren't so many people remarking on how much they like it.

"Oh, Steve, you look so handsome," coos their eighty-something year old neighbor, Mme. Giraudet, when they run into each other in the hallway, and Diana bites her tongue as Steve grins and thanks her.

"Your new beard suits you," comments Diana's colleague, Inès, when Steve stops by the Louvre for lunch one afternoon. The interns, meanwhile, titter amongst themselves, and Diana's sure they're also talking about the beard too, given that they gossip about everything else.

"Love the beard," says Arthur at the next Justice League meeting, and Diana huffs as they talk about the best trimming techniques and Arthur asks if Steve plans to grow it any longer. (The answer is no, thankfully.)

"Maybe I should grow one too," says Barry thoughtfully, and Diana rolls her eyes, because Steve has officially crossed the line into bad influence.

"I know an excellent styling product should you wish to give it a little panache," says Alfred, and under her breath Diana mumbles, "Don't encourage him."

"You are lucky my skin heals so quickly," Diana grouses one evening, as she examines the inside of her thigh, where there's a light trail of irritated skin, already starting to fade.

"Perk #327 of dating a literal goddess," Steve quips jovially. They both know her skin will be completely unmarred in the next quarter of an hour, as if there had never been even the slightest bit of beard burn.

Diana shoots him a dirty look, vaguely annoyed at his flippancy and simultaneously charmed by his infectiously good mood.

"Shall I take a look for you?" he asks, far too innocently.

She can't help it; it makes her laugh.

"Maybe I can kiss it better," he continues, as though that isn't exactly what precipitated this situation in the first place.

But honestly, the red is entirely faded now, and his smile makes her feel warm, as does the way his pupils are suddenly blown wide. She just might let him.

It's been a couple of months since Steve grew the beard, and Diana has resigned herself to its permanence. He likes it, and there's no getting around that.

So when Diana comes home one afternoon, she's treated to a proper shock, one that makes her freeze upon entering the room. Steve's focused on the computer, typing out an email, and she stands there staring at him an obscenely long time, because his beard is just...gone.

"Your beard," she manages finally, slightly strangled.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. I shaved it," says Steve absently, casual as anything—like he didn't care about it, like it wasn't secretly the bane of her existence—still focused on whatever he's writing.

"You shaved it," she repeats faintly.

"Eh, it stopped being exciting," he admits, then looks up at her. "Besides, you hated it. It was a little funny at first, but ultimately not worth it."

"Right," she echoes, "I hated it."

He grins at her, soft and sweet, and closes the computer in front of him.

"Seriously, I wasn't trying to torture you or anything. You know that, right?"

Finally, something else that she can latch onto. She laughs at its absurdity. "Of course I do," she says. "A beard is hardly a torture device, no matter what I wanted you to think."

She leans in to kiss him, and touches his face lightly as an anchor, taking a moment to feel the now-smooth skin of his jaw. He laughs, taking it as another retroactive indictment of his beard, when in fact it's anything but.

She finds herself conflicted; she spent so much time thinking she hated his beard, and now that it's gone...she misses it. Objectively, it did look good on him—didn't soften his jaw too much or make him look scruffy in an unappealing way—and as much as she complained about the beard burn, it wasn't actually as annoying as she'd made it seem. In fact, it became a rough sensation she finds she may have liked, not that she'd admit it. And she liked how much he liked it, the way he smiled every time he decided that nah, I'm still keeping it for today, that she'd have to try to convince him to get rid of it tomorrow, instead. He clearly enjoyed having the beard.

Which leaves her in a quandary: she can be silent, or she can set aside her pride and do an about-face on her opinion of the beard.

"Steve," she says hesitantly.

"Yes, Angel?"

"I just...I do not want you to go without a beard because of me." There. Perhaps there's a middle path.

"It really doesn't make that much difference to me; I'm happy to be clean shaven if it matters to you." (Or maybe there isn’t a middle way. Drat.)

"It doesn't, really," she admits, almost too softly to be heard.

"What was that?" asks Steve, the sneaking start of a smile edging along the corners of his lips. Shit, he knows. She rarely gets anything by him, and today is no different; he knows her too well.

"I did not really mind the beard, after all."

Steve opens his mouth to say something, but Diana gets there first.

"Not a single word," Diana warns, face hot.

"No, ma'am, not a one," agrees Steve, but his smirk—wide and mischievous and knowing—says it all.

Oh, she's in for it. One way or another, that damn beard is going to be the death of her.

***

#wrote this awhile ago and wasn't gonna post it but in a 'why not' sort of mood tonight so #wondertrev #diana prince #steve trevor #wonder woman #diana x steve #steve x diana #wondertrev fanfiction #lenci writes #lenci's tumblr ficlets #am i going to regret posting past midnight? almost certainly #does my post-midnight brain care? not at all

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dylan-is-a-frog · 4 years

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I’m here | Tech

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So! I was thinking of writing this as a reader-insert kind of one-shot? But then I thought about how attached I feel to Tech and I decided that my older brother deserved his own original partner, so this resulted in Aray'lar, who accompanies him and the bad batch during this post-order 66 universe in which the bad batch finds themselves escaping the empire and being persecuted as traitors.

A little bit about Aray'lar! (Also called Aray, Ary, Arla, Buir). Mandalorian bounty hunter, the only survivor of her clan after their extermination at the hands of the empire. For mysterious reasons she ends up traveling with the bad batch and, basically, she becomes their mother.

A little warning maybe? Here I talk about anxiety attacks. EVERYTHING in this one-shot is based on my OWN EXPERIENCE with panic attacks and this is NOT some guide about how to treat people with anxiety/panic attacks. With all that said...

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Summary: Tech needs the only person who knows how to calm him down.

Language: English.

Number of words: 1.9k

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He didn't look good.

The first thing that went through Aray's head was that Wrecker had been too rough on Echo again, perhaps Hunter had hurt himself with his knife or had hurt Crosshair. Her mind began to plot endlessly different ways that the ex-soldiers could have been hurt. At what point had she become their nanny?

Would they know that she was a warrior and not a doctor? Perhaps they would have researched enough to know that before the purge, Aray'lar had served his clan as part of the medical care, but there was no logic to it; there was no record of her existence as part of his now-defunct clan. Aray'lar, the foundling, existed only in her most precious memories and in the armor that protected her day by day. The problem was that, along with them and their tendency to experiment with their own limits, she had gradually felt again that call to care for her own, to protect them even when they lived on the edge of tomorrow.

Aliit ori'shya tal'din.

"Ary," he managed to call her with a barely audible voice. "Ary."

"Yes, cyare?" Aray looked over her shoulder. She stood on her toes carefully pushing a box full of medical supplies that they had gotten on one of their last missions. What was the name of the planet? It didn't matter, now everything was the same under the shadow of the empire. "Is it Hunter? If it's Hunter I swear I'm going to take those useless knives away from him. One of these days he's going to cut off a finger and I can't sew fingers, Tech, much less without the necessary instruments."

There was no response. Not even a correction. Tech always had something to correct in her sentences, a quality she often didn't know whether to hate, love, or both at the same time.

Aray sighed in admiration of how orderly she had left everything. The soldiers were great warriors, almost indestructible, but boy did they know how to leave their mess tidy.

"Ary, I think..." he ran out of air before he could speak any further and a small concern centered on the woman's stomach, forcing her to turn around to face the soldier. Tech's hand tried to remove his chest from his armor without any success, and he began to hyperventilate.

"What do you think? What's going on?"

She approached slowly as Tech leaned his back against the wall and let his body gently fall to the ground, flexing his legs and running one of his hands across his forehead, removing the drops of sweat that became more and more evident as she approached. Aray, with fear beginning to creep up his throat, placed the palm of her hand on his shoulder, feeling the shivers and tremors that ran through his entire body with a worrying rhythm.

"Cyare?" she asked again, this time more quietly, as if she feared that the volume of her voice would make whatever was happening to the soldier worse. "Tech?"

"I think I..." he muttered as if speaking had become an impossible task, as if the act of moving his lips drained all his energy. In a desperate attempt, he managed to give her the signal the mandalorian needed to understand what was happening. "I can't breathe."

Aray'lar's heart turned over, full of the same sadness and anxiety that always produced her to see her beloved in such conditions. Sighing softly trying to calm her own nerves, she took Tech's trembling hands in hers, placing them on her lap. As if she were trying to touch a feather without moving it. Soft, graceful movements. Even when a small sob came from between his lips, she fought against the increasing crying that appeared in her chest every time Tech looked for her, also looking for that peace that only the warrior could give him.

Crises did not usually distress him during the day, but since the empire had identified the mandalorian bounty hunter as a traitor, under the premise of helping the clones, the soldier's anguish at the idea of losing Aray'lar hit him more and more often.

As much as she would like to feel needed, she would give anything to take away all the weight that the soldier made himself carry. Would there be any way? She had thought of leaving, even though it would end up killing the soldier. But there was what kept her calm, that feeling that ran down her back when he woke her up in the middle of the night and took refuge in her arms.

Aray was his safe space. Everyone trusted the mandalorian and her abilities, both physically and emotionally, but the connection she had developed with Tech was much deeper than that, it was much more than love or respect. The soldier had a great brain, and the conversations with him never ended because of his immense memory and ability to record everything he saw in his mind. Tech was always proud of what he knew, and rarely showed genuine surprise at other people's actions, but there was something that everyone saw that only happened with the warrior.

Tech could talk about many things, but his own person was sometimes totally unknown to him. Talking with him meant not only listening to him and enjoying his face illuminated by the joy of being taken into account in a genuine and real way, but it was also seeing his confusion by asking him banal things like his favorite color, or much deeper questions like how much he loved his brothers. His traumas, fears and afflictions. His panic at the possibility of losing one of his own, or losing his cyare.

The soldier clung to the tangible, to objective information. Exploring himself meant understanding that there was no more complicated knowledge but that of self-knowledge. Usually, his panic attacks were born from the same need to discover himself and understand himself, to understand little by little that there were things that could not be explained with numbers or words.

Aray'lar had taught him that, from the moment he taught him that the traditions of his clan went far beyond information, rituals and battles. Ary had taught his cyare to feel, to close the eyes and understand those emotions that could not be read, that could not be understood unless they were experienced.

Their first kiss. Their first time.

"It's all right, my love, I'm here," she whispered as she gently caressed her partner's hands, listening to his gasping for breath. "It's all under control, I'm right here, and I'm not leaving."

She simply stroked his hands until the soldier squeezed the woman's hands and bent down trying to hide in her chest. With slow, gentle movements Aray turned to him and guided him to settle between her legs. As if it were a complicated puzzle that she had already deciphered before, she quickly managed to get Tech to find shelter with his head hidden between her neck and shoulder. When her fingers began to touch his short hair, Aray began to breathe deeply and slowly, making the soldier try to follow her rhythm without uttering a word, slowing his own breathing as the minutes went by.

"Keep it up, cyare, you're doing great," she whispered as she brushed her fingers around his hair, down to the nape of his neck. "Do you feel it, my love? Do you feel the air coming in through your nose? I'm with you, Tech, this is going to pass."

Ary continued to breathe next to him before any of them spoke again. In her eyes, Tech was much more than a smart guy. He was a man who hid his fears and felt the need to find a solution to everything, even though there wasn't one. Tech had always distinguished himself from others, taking into account that his greatest weapon against any enemy was his incredible ingenuity and his ability to save information that could seem useless to anyone. But Tech had also had to fight, like his brothers, with the feeling of not belonging. Not being able to keep his mouth shut was one of his biggest insecurities, until the joy of the mandalorian bounty hunter and the way she always asked him to know more had let him know that there was someone willing to know every curious fact he was learning in each of his missions.

She loved his voice, his laughter. The confidence with which he spoke about the things he knew when he was with her and how shame seemed to be a distant enemy that no longer prevented him from letting go.

But feeling him calm, relaxed. Knowing that both his body and his mind were peaceful... Maker, that was an experience she would treasure for the rest of her life.

To feel his breath calm was a feeling that made her heart explode with joy. To hear through his skin how the minutes passed as the caresses and words of support that left Ary's lips seemed eternal. Again and again her voice let out phrases full of genuine love as the nightmare ended.

His body still trembled gently as Tech wrapped his hands around her torso, clinging to her as if she were his most precious treasure. She was the most important thing in his life. As the shaking became weaker and weaker, she waited patiently for him to take his time to speak.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, and she could hear a little sobbing escaping his lips. "I'm sorry I'm like this, cyare."

"You're like what? Amazing? Incredibly smart? Charming?" a small laugh escaped his lips as she allowed herself to laugh softly too. "It's all right, Tech, I'll always be here for you. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really, but..." he muttered, but he couldn't finish. Still with his arms around her torso, he lifted his face and stopped hiding it so he could look into Aray'lar's brown eyes, who realized for the first time that he wasn't wearing his glasses, and his eyes were completely red from the crying that had accompanied his crisis. "Ary'ika, if one day we can no longer escape, can you promise me that you will do everything to keep yourself safe?"

She smiled weakly and with one hand she caressed his cheek, it was not time to discuss these matters seriously. Never was the time to do it. If the empire was threatening anyone, it was them, not a Mandalorian bounty hunter, but it was not in her plans to trigger another crisis in the poor man. "I can't promise you that, Tech, but I will always do everything in my power to make sure nothing happens to us."

"I wouldn't know what to do if they did something to you because of us, cyare, and if the empire caught you helping us they could... They could..."

"They could do nothing as long as we are all together, my love."

The clone soldier said nothing, because there was no need to say what they had talked about so many times. Neither would leave the other without fighting, and the same applied to their entire family. They all shared the same fear, even if some did not want to accept it.

As if his face were made of glass, Aray'lar cradled the cheeks of his beloved in hes hands, gently approaching him and giving Tech the peace he needed to know that, for now, all things were fine. It didn't matter what happened tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow.

"You are my universe, Ary'ika," he said.

They were together, and even if they were far away, they would always have their aliit present.

"My universe and my life, ner cyare," she continued.

#the bad batch #clone wars #tech bad batch #star wars #star wars one shot #star wars imagine #tech #soft one shot #clone wars one shot

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curlystom · 4 years

Text

next to you — tom holland

{ in which you’re not the only one that likes to hang out on the fire escape }

a/n: this is dedicated to my best friend bre @stealthspideys who is the reason why i pushed myself to finish this. i love you endlessly. and i hope you enjoy this

word count: 2.4k

warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of drugs and overdosing!

MASTERLIST

Your lips trembled as you climbed through your bedroom window, sock-covered feet touching the freezing cold metal stairs. With your favorite blanket hanging from your shoulders, you quietly climbed toward the chair you’ve spent countless nights in to consume all your thoughts.

Living in the city had its ups and downs. Although the sound of cars honking and random people yelling in the middle of the night drove you crazy, the view of lights illuminating the dark sky was something you could never get tired of. You think you’ve spent more time out on your fire escape than your actual living area, but you didn’t care.

You sat down, bare thighs growing used to the temperature of the metal before you criss-crossed your legs. Letting out a big sigh, tears started welling up in your eyes for what seemed like the millionth time that day as you thought back to earlier.

“Why do you always have to be so fucking dramatic?! Just for once in your life, can you CALM down?”

The yelling had been going on for at least an hour at this point; and you had tugged on the strands of your hair so much, you were sure it was going to fall out soon.

“Calm down? CALM DOWN? I just walked in on you doing drugs and you want me to fucking act like nothing happened!?” You exclaimed, voice becoming rough and hoarse due to all your shouting.

His addiction to drugs was something you knew about long before you were dating. Though you believed you were never the type to love someone who was a drug addict, his charm and charisma pulled you in and you learned to ignore it. Until you couldn’t.

You would find yourself coming home with him passed out on the couch, pulse weakening by the minute. Panicking, you’d call 911 and rush him to the hospital and only pray that nothing seriously bad would happen to him. Luckily, nothing did happen; and each time he’d lay in the hospital bed he’d plead to you that he’d get himself clean and get help. And you believed him.

“Y-you promised me you stopped. I BELIEVED you when you told me you were clean.” Tears were pouring down your red cheeks, nose running—causing you to wipe it with your sweater sleeve every minute or so.

“And I was! F-fuck, I was. I swear babe, I was doing so good I just-” He was scratching at his arms, a habit you had noticed early on when he became fidgety, nervous, and anxious.

You pried his hand away from his arm, pushing him down onto the couch before beginning to pace back and forth in front of him. “I don’t think you understand how life threatening this is everytime you do it. You’ve already been to the hospital once within the past year. When are you EVER going to learn?!”

He rested his elbows against his knees, hands running viciously through his hair that you thought it was going to start falling out. “I-I was getting better. I swear! It’s just that w-work has been so rough and I’m just so stressed and this makes everything go away! It’s just a one time thing I promi-”

“NO! No it’s not. God, can’t you see that this stuff is literally killing you! Everyday I wonder if today is going to be it, where you don’t wake up anymore and I have to-”

The room fell silent. He looked up at you with bloodshot eyes, a mixture from crying and drugs. A single tear fell down your cheek again and you rushed to wipe it away before sighing in defeat. The constant fear and pain you felt daily wasn’t worth it anymore and it was weighing on you more than before.

“I-, I’m sorry. I can’t do this anymore.”

He had begged not to leave, dropping to his knees with tears welling up, telling you he’ll fix himself and go back to rehab. But you shook your head no, saying that he needed to get help for himself and not for someone else. He packed his things and left not much longer after that, leaving you alone in the apartment for the first time in years. It was like a piece of your heart had been ripped out and you flopped down on the couch clutching your chest in pain.

Breathing became more shaky as the never-ending tears seemed to fall onto your reddening cheeks. The constant ache you felt in your chest, like your ribs were suffocating your heart and a thousand needles had sank into it, was slightly interrupted when a gust of wind blew a few strands of hair in front of your face. Then all of a sudden, you heard the sound of metal clashing on the fire escape next to yours and your body flinched at the noise.

Wiping the remaining tears from your face, you turned your head to see what the commotion was all about only to see your next door neighbor with his hands covering his face.

“S-sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Tom picked up the foldable chair that had fallen over when he was climbing out of his window and rested it against the railing.

You gave a small smile. “It’s no worries.”

“What’s someone like you doing out here at this hour?” He sat down against his window sill, back against the edge of the frame with his knees brought up to his chest. “It’s a little bit late and cold to be having a midnight crisis.”

Biting your lip to suppress a laugh from escaping, you shook your head. “I’m always having a midnight crisis.”

Tom was about to respond before he paused, taking a moment to examine your face that was being illuminated by the moon just right. It didn’t take much to realize that you had been crying out here, now noticing the dried tear stains you had failed to wipe away and the swollen eyes you were going to cry more about later. He could recognize a broken heart when he saw one, and although he didn’t know you too well--a casual run in here and there--it pained him to see you hurt.

“Are you okay?” He frowned, twiddling with his fingers as he leaned forward a bit.

Your fingers fiddled with the loose string on your blanket, wrapping it a little bit too tight around your pointer finger before unravelling it. Glossy eyes locking with his, you took the moment to take a good look at him for the first time that night. His curls were tousled and fell perfectly in front of his face, but luckily not blocking the view of his chocolate orbs that were staring at you in concern. His black t-shirt was wrinkled and looked like they had some fresh coffee stains on the front while his basketball shorts had some obvious fraying at the ends. He looked like a total mess, but it was comforting.

“I-um, it’s nothing.”

“Hey…” Tom planted his feet onto the fire escape, scooting along his window sill to sit closer to you. “It’s not nothing… I know a broken heart when I see one.”

More tears seemed to gloss over your eyes, and you desperately tried to not let them fall in front of him. The last thing you needed was to have a neighbor witness your heartbreak. You couldn’t help but let out a laugh, quickly wiping remnants of the failed tears along your lower lash line with your sweater. “You got me there Tom, I’ll admit.”

He chewed on his bottom lip, eyes softening as he watched you collect yourself and your thoughts. It was obvious that there was a lot on your mind.

“I um…” You let out a shaky breath. “I broke up with my boyfriend today.”

His saddening expression grew, eyes darting towards the ground in sympathy. “I’m sorry-”

You held your hand out to interrupt him. “No. No, don’t apologize. I-, I stayed with him as long as I could but it just got to be too much.”

The tightness grew inside your chest, wanting nothing but to release that pain you had been feeling all day by letting those desperate sobs slip through. The silence that surrounded the two of you grew, and you knew he was letting you finish before intervening.

“We were best friends all throughout school and then once we got into college he just-, changed? He got addicted to drugs and I just.. let it happen. I tried and begged for him to stop and he would for the most part. But…” You took a second to pause, taking deep breaths to soothe your growing hyperventilation. It was bubbling inside of you and you could feel it, scratching at the inside of your throat as more tears welled up in your eyes.

“He overdosed 10 months ago. I came h-home from work and he was just lying on the couch.. helpless. It was like my whole body shut down. I-, I couldn’t even move. It felt like forever before I eventually called 911 and tried to find his pulse.”

Tom felt his chest tighten the more your words fell past your trembling lips. Shivers traveled all throughout your body even though you had your blanket draped around your shoulders, but it wasn’t because you were cold. You didn’t even realize you were shaking until you noticed your figure was being wrapped in Tom’s arms, who had walked over from his side of the fire escape to yours. His body broke your fall as you slipped off your chair, unable to control the unsteady breathing and cries you tried so desperately to keep in. It was no use anymore.

You took this opportunity to bury your face into his chest, finding purchase on the end seam of his shirt and feeling the foreign tough of his fingertips trace along your skin. Fluttering your eyes closed, you focused on the way he traced endless circles and lines on the back of your arm and small of your back. He kept a consistent pace, knowing you were steadying your breathing with his movements and made sure to switch up the mindless shapes every once in a while.

Tom rested his chin on top of your head, taking in the scent of lavender and honey from your freshly washed hair. He had come out to ease his mind off the ongoing anxiety he had for his audition that morning. It had been 6 months of endless work—memorizing lines and doing unnecessary backflips with the hopes of impressing the higher ups—and it was seemingly getting nowhere. Pacing back and forth in his living room, he rubbed his face in frustration when he couldn’t remember the scene he had been working on all day, before ultimately deciding it was enough and to get some fresh air. He didn’t expect to have you in his arms, desperately trying to calm down, but your presence was just what he needed to relieve his mind off of his insecurities.

The both of you sat in silence, except for the occasional hiccup from you here and there, and appreciated each others company. Tom carefully lifted his left wrist, trying not to break the position you were in, and checked the time. 3:18am. He snuck a peek at your face to see if you were still awake as he hadn’t felt any movement from you in a while. You sat there, cheek against his damp shirt with a small smile of your face.

“You’re smiling…” He said softly, twirling strands of your hair between his fingers.

“I just-, thank you.” Sitting up straight, allowing Tom’s hands to ghost around your waist, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. “You didn’t have to stay out here and do all this..”

Eyebrows furrowed, he shook his head while his lips tugged a soft smile. “You don’t need to thank me.. it hurt to see you that upset and I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I left you alone.”

Your fingers left his shirt, a habit you had forgotten about midway through, and made their way towards the nape of his neck. Playing with the little curls, you twirled the short hairs around your finger—copying his actions from earlier—before wrapping your arms around him and bringing him in for a hug. His arms snaked around your waist, face burying in the crook of your neck and it was then when you realized how close you two were.

He smelt of a light vanilla, one familiar with the candle you bought him for Christmas. Another smile made its way to your face at the thought of him still having it and clearly using it.

You were the first to pull away, retracting your arms from your shoulders as you moved to stand up. Tom’s look of disappointment was overlooked by you, too focused on regaining feeling in your legs to see the way his eyes saddened and lips slightly pouted. “I should, uh, go to sleep. It’s probably like 4am now.”

He nodded, wiping his clammy hands on his shorts before resting his palm on the window sill, steadying himself as he began to stand up on his own. Your back was towards him, grabbing the forgotten blanket and fixing the pillow and chair that had fallen over. Tom pursed his lips, tip toeing back to his own window, believing that was the end of the night.

“Tom?”

He turned around with one foot already inside of his apartment. Eyes wide—filled with hope—Tom stood there waiting as you looked at him with happiness glossing over your eyes. The crinkles near them simply made his heart flutter and he couldn’t help but show his own, which made you smile even more.

“Thank you.”

“Anything for you.” Teeth biting back a grin, he looked at you once more before you opened your window and headed back inside.

Wrapping the cold blanket around your shoulders once more, you padded your way towards the bedroom, passing the living room where the earlier events took place and ignored the invisible memories that tried to replay again. All you could do was gently close your swollen eyes and be grateful that you have someone like Tom in your life to pick you up when you fall down.

And you would suddenly be okay again.

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland one shot #tom holland angst #peter parker #peter parker one shot #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker fic #peter parker angst

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pixiegrl · 4 years

Text

The Monster Mash, It Was a Graveyard Smash

This was a Halloween fic for the 5SOS Halloween Fic Event organized by @ashesonthefloor! Thank you for doing this! I had alot of fun writing this fic. Shout out to Liz for editing! And Mel for being my hype woman and letting me bounce ideas off you!

The prompt was: "That's not a Halloween costume? You actually look like that??" (could be fangs, horns, wings, literally whatever supernatural element you want) Or one person has supernatural aspects and spends Halloween night with the other person. The other doesn't realize it's not a costume until they're gold/the next day/whatever you decide to do"

It’s also on ao3 at: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27262129/

Luke is regretting his decision to tell Michael that he would get the decorations for their apartment. He only agreed because Michael loves Halloween, but he cannot be trusted to do the shopping. He’ll buy everything in the store and then will they not only have money, Luke will have to spend the whole month being terrified of his apartment and what might pop out at him. Michael is endlessly fascinated by Halloween, a holiday fairies don’t celebrate. It’s a human-made holiday, and before they left Australia and their little home clan of magic to move to New York, they’d never encountered anything like it. Even though they’ve been here for roughly five years now and have come to understand most of the other holidays people celebrate, Michael loves Halloween the most. It’s the one thing he insists on celebrating, despite Luke’s protests against it. Luke likes fall, but he doesn’t like being scared, which seems to be Michael’s favorite part. He’s been banned from decoration shopping since the time he hung a skeleton from the ceiling that caused Luke to scream and cry upon entering the apartment.

Luke doesn’t get Halloween. It’s such a human holiday and, despite how much he likes dressing up and eating candy, he doesn’t understand Michael's fascination with it. He finds the whole thing to be too scary and overdone for his liking.

Usually, they have enough Halloween decorations for the apartment but, in a fit of rage last year, Luke threw some of them out after Michael had left a fake spider in his bed. Which is probably one of the reasons that Michael forced Luke to go this year. It’s his least favorite thing, having to go to the store and go through the aisles to find something that Michael likes. Luke doesn’t like anything terrifying, which is unfortunately all Michael ever wants. Luke has already had to avoid the fake snakes and serial killer franchise masks just to get to the decorations.

He’s been standing in the decorations aisle for twenty minutes now, trying to decide between the scary decorations (some kind of bloody werewolf head, which Luke thinks might be inaccurate) and the cute ones (a small, smiling purple bat). He’s also partial to the black rose wreath hanging up, but he’s worried Michael will say it’s too “soft” for the scary punk vibes he prefers. He also knows Michael desperately wants to impress his new boyfriend, Calum, with their decorations.

Luke is finally steeling himself to take the werewolf's head and be done with it when he hears a groan next to him.

“You’re not really going to take that, are you?” The voice says. There’s an Australian accent there, which surprises Luke so far away from home. So far in New York, it feels like it’s just him and Michael and now Michael’s boyfriend Calum, who are from his home country. He turns, wondering what kind of stranger just decides to address someone in the store and is surprised by the person staring back at him. It’s a rather attractive guy, all brown curls with brown eyes and dimples in his cheeks showing as he’s smiling at Luke. Luke blushes, glancing away from him and back to the head.

“My roommate likes scary decorations and stuff.”

“Well, it’s a horrible stereotype. How would you like it if someone hung your face up on a wall, full of teeth and blood?”

Luke wrinkles his nose. He’s never met a werewolf, but he can’t imagine it would be fun to have people think that. It’s already not fun when he and Michael meet people who automatically assume that fairies are out to trick people and con them. Luke only did that once and it was to pass a class.

“I guess. But they are hunters.”

“Please, they’d be much more civilized than that. You don’t go around eating your meat raw and bloody do you? Besides, who even hunts to eat anymore?”

“Well, what about full moons then? What about a transformation?”

“You mean why do werewolves have to hunt and kill? Maybe they just like playing with their friends and rough housing. They certainly don’t look like that,” the guy says, jerking his thumb towards the head.

“Well, I have to go home with something. What do you propose if you’re so against the werewolf head?” Luke asks. The guy lights up immediately, full of enthusiasm. If he was a dog, his tail would be wagging.

“You seem like someone who would like something elegant. What about this?” He says, pulling the wreath off the rack and handing it to Luke. In this light, up close, Luke can see that there’s glitter on the edges, letting the roses sparkle in the light. Luke runs his finger over the edge, wondering if he can spell it so that the roses will be more realistic and alive, while still being wholly fake and preserved. He’s surprised this stranger was able to figure out so quickly what Luke likes, but it could be the floral shirt that he’s wearing, too.

Luke glances up, smiling gently to show his approval. The guy grins even wider, dimples deepening.

“What else do you suggest?” Luke asks. The guy immediately starts to pull things from the shelves, babbling at Luke about how nice the various things are, small smiling bats and little arched black cats. He goes around pulling out the most objectively least scary things that somehow manage to be adorable. Luke is a little in love with this man, who’s dumping a fake candelabra into his basket, telling him that the black and gold looks elegant, but spooky.

They stop in front of the fake animal skeletons. Luke is a little put off by the incorrect spiders and snakes. They’re not supposed to look like that at all, beady eyes staring at him. The cat draws his attention though, arched back and skeletal smile on its jaw. It looks...fun. Wholesome. Luke reaches out and pets along the back, charmed by how incorrect it truly is, little ears and all.

“You should get it,” The guy says. Luke looks over at him, startled by how fond his face is staring back at Luke. Luke blushes, embarrassed that this guy saw him petting a skeleton cat. The guy doesn’t seem to care, simply picking the cat up and holding it out to him.

“It’s silly.”

“Nothing’s silly if it makes you smile,” he says, holding the cat out further towards him. Luke takes her, staring down into the cat’s little face. It smiles back at him.

“What should I name her? Names are important you know,” Luke says solemnly. It’s a fairy tradition, after all.

The guy furrows his brow, biting his lip a little. “Name her Petunia. A nice name for a nice cat.”

Luke smiles, nodding. “Petunia. I like it.”

The guy grins back at him, “Anytime. Always glad to help a cute stranger on their quest for Halloween.”

He walks away, throwing Luke a wave and a wink. Luke blushes, staring down at Petunia. Naturally she offers him no advice in the matter.

It isn’t until Luke gets home and has faced the ire of Michael because of the lack of scary Halloween decorations that he realizes he should have asked the cute guy for his name and number. Now, he’s never going to see him again. It’s the real travesty of the night, leaving Luke sad, followed around by a little storm cloud as he wallows in his unhappiness.

***

Luke can’t believe he’s waited this long to buy candy. Usually they’re on top of it, big bags of assorted candy bought at the start of the season, ready to give out to the kids in their apartment building and for Luke and Michael to binge eat while watching movies. However, this is the first year they’ve thrown a Halloween party and they’ve mis-estimated the amount of candy needed. They still have a few weeks left, but they’ve realized that the usual two bags won’t cut it if they’re having people over and want to put it out for the party.

Michael is busy with work all day, but still insisted that if they want to get any of the good stuff, it has to be done today. So now Luke is standing in yet another aisle of a department store, trying to figure out what on Earth Michael means by “the good stuff.”

Luke knows that he likes Reese’s and that Michael is partial to anything with mint in it, but Luke’s not sure what else to get. Chocolate and candy isn’t really a thing for fairies growing up. It wasn’t until Luke and Michael moved to New York that they’ve even come into contact with the stuff and he’s still learning what it is that people like. He’s got a bag of assorted chocolates, a couple packs of mint chocolate Kit Kat’s for Michael, and a bag of mini Reese’s for himself, but he feels like he’s missing something.

“You can’t only be buying chocolate,” A voice says next to Luke. Luke startles at the familiar accent, turning to see that it’s the same guy from the decorations. Luke is dumbstruck by the coincidence of the whole thing. Here he was, sure he’d never see the man again and now here he is, standing in the candy aisle of a Walgreens and telling him that he’s making the wrong candy choices.

“It’s you,” Luke says, at a loss for what else to say. The guy grins, all sparkling eyes and dimples. He looks like a Disney prince.

“I’d ask if you’re stalking me, but I don’t know if you’d be doing that in a drug store at 3pm on a Monday. How’d your roommate like the decorations?”

“Mad that they weren’t scary. Said I ruined the holiday until his boyfriend came over and said he preferred our decorations to the other things he’s seen for the season. Now Michael can’t get enough of them. Although he keeps trying to change Petunia’s name.”

“Well he’s not allowed to. That’s her name and it’s the only one she’ll answer to,” the guy says, serious expression on his face broken by the wink he sends Luke. Luke blushes, turning back to the candy.

“First you judge my decoration choices, now you’re judging my choice in candy. What will you judge next?” Luke teases.

“Well, you pick scary decorations and now chocolate. I’m starting to think you have a vendetta against werewolves.”

Luke scoffs, trying to put on an air of disbelief. “Come on, you don’t really think werewolves are real.”

“It is Halloween season. Anything is possible.” He grins. Luke notices his teeth look a little sharper than most people’s, but doesn’t think anything of it.

“What else am I supposed to buy if not for chocolate? It’s a staple of the season.”

The guy furrows his brow, turning to look at the shelves of candy. He snaps his fingers and leans down, grabbing a bag of what looks like sour gummies. He tosses the bag into Luke’s basket.

“Oh, so werewolves don’t like chocolate, but they like candy that hurts to eat.”

“If werewolves are part dog, they’d have chocolate allergies. Sour candy is safe and allergy free. Besides, maybe they like a little kick with their sweet,” The guy says, winking.

Is this guy flirting with him? Luke can’t possibly be that lucky.

“Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that. I tend to prefer saltiness with my chocolate,” Luke says. The guy grins even wider and Luke blushes, realizing it sounds a bit like a come on.

“Guess you’ll just have to try it and see.”

Luke turns away, grabbing another bag of sour gummies and putting it in with the others. Luke turns to the guy, ready to ask him for his name and number, when his phone goes off. He shoots Luke an apologetic look and pulls it out of his pocket, eyes going wide when he sees the name of whoever it is.

“Sorry, I have to take this. Good luck with Halloween.” And with that he rushes out of the store, partially running to get outside.

Dejected, Luke buys his candy and heads back to the apartment. He dumps it onto the counter, ripping open one of the bags of sour gummies to give it a try. They’re not bad, the little bit of kick at the edge of sweetness is enough to override the loss of feeling Luke’s having in his mouth after the first bag.

Michael comes home an hour later, finding Luke moping on the couch with his candy. When asked, all Luke can say is that the universe is out to stop him from getting a boyfriend. Michael wants to know what sour gummies, something neither of them has had before, has to do with any of that.

***

Luke isn’t sure how he ended up here in the Halloween store, but it seems to be where he is. A combination of needing to get away from Michael and Calum’s making out and general boredom has led him here. It’s the last week before Halloween and he’s rummaging through the remains of what’s left for costumes, combing through glittery fairy wings and bad makeup. It’s really his fault for waiting so long to find a costume for the party, but it’s not like Luke actually needs a costume at all. He is a fairy and so, understandably, he already has fairy wings to wear. He has slightly pointed ears and golden eyes and there’s glitter that goes with him everywhere. It doesn’t mean it’s not still fun to go to the stores, watch the teen girls try to look like mermaids and little kids dress up in superhero costumes. Luke just usually tries to go earlier than this because now all that’s left are the rejected costumes and the college students trying to make a mad dash to make something out of whatever is left.

Luke shifts through the fairy costumes so he can send pictures to Michael of what people seem to think fairies look like when someone bumps into him. He startles, turning around.

The person who’s bumped into him looks to be a guy about his age, with windswept brown hair and large brown eyes. He throws his hands up in mock surrender when he sees Luke looking at him. It reminds Luke vaguely of a puppy who knows they’ve done something wrong and is trying to look innocent. He looks familiar, but Luke’s not sure why.

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. Should really be more careful about where I’m going,” The guy says. Luke perks up at the hint of Australian accent. It can’t be that same guy Luke’s been running into all over town. First with the decorations and then the candy. Is it too much to hope that Luke would meet the cute guy here? What are the odds he’d also be looking for a costume last minute? Maybe the universe doesn’t hate him after all.

“It’s you! My werewolf decoration and no chocolate guy!” Luke says, grinning when the guy breaks into a full smile.

“I knew you looked familiar! Could never forget a pretty face like that. It seems that fate has brought us together in this horribly placed Halloween store. Ashton,” The guy says, sticking his hand out. Luke takes it gently, letting the guy shake it with far too much enthusiasm for someone he’s only met a handful of times. He really does remind Luke of an overeager puppy. Luke might already have a crush on him, with how cute and happy he is.

“Luke. Feels nice to finally be on a first name basis with the man my roommate has a grudge against now.”

Ashton laughs, a short bark of a thing. “So, what brings you to a costume store so late in the season? You seem too put together to have waited until the last minute, considering how detailed you were about the decorations and the candy.”

Luke blushes. “Oh, I have my costume. I just like to come to the stores and look around. There’s something funny about going to a Halloween store so late and seeing the chaos of it all. Besides, it can never hurt to have too many accessories for a look. Who would wait this long anyway?”

Ashton laughs, “Well, then it seems I’m the chaos you’re looking for. I managed to wait for the last minute for a costume and now I’m rushing to find one for a last minute party. Maybe you could help me?”

Luke’s a little surprised. It’s rather bold of Ashton to ask a stranger to accompany him while looking for costumes. Not that Luke’s going to turn down what feels like a date with a cute guy. He hasn’t gone on a date with a cute guy in ages. Maybe he can manage to convince Ashton to hold his hand.

“We can certainly try. What are you looking for?”

“I’m not sure yet. Usually I like to take a look around and see what’s left. Sometimes it’s fun, trying to make a costume out of the things people don’t want.”

Luke is horrified. “How can you not plan for something like that? Costumes take detail and work. Why would you leave it all up to chance?”

“Maybe you need to learn to live a little, Luke.”

“You wouldn’t say that if you knew what my costume is.”

Ashton looks him up and down and it feels a little like being checked out. He preens a little under Ashton’s gaze. Ashton looks up, blushing slightly when he meets Luke’s eyes.

“Let me guess. You’ll be a princess. Or a mermaid. Since you are Australian and all.”

Luke shakes his head, “Close, but not quite.”

Ashton glances over at the fairy wings Luke's been looking at. “Oh! A fairy. How charming. It fits you.”

“Are you going to be a prince? You’d make a nice companion for Cinderella.”

Ashton laughs, “Can’t say that princesses are my thing, really. Besides, princes are boring and stuffy. It lacks imagination and adventure.”

Luke looks around, “Unless you wanna be a prince or a superhero, it looks like you’re out of luck shopping at this place. They’re almost out of everything since, you know, it’s the week before Halloween.”

“I know a better costume store a bit outside of the city. Why don’t we set up a day and go shopping together? Since you seem to have a lot of opinions about my outfit, it seems fitting you should help me look,” Ashton says, holding his hand out, raising his eyebrows expectantly. There’s a pause as Luke realizes that Ashton is asking Luke for his phone. For his number.

Luke can do little else but take out his phone, unlock it, and hand it over to Ashton. He messes around with it for a few moments, inputting his number and sending a text to himself. He hands the phone back to Luke smiling.

“There. Now you have my number. Text me when you’re free and we’ll set something up,” Ashton says, winking at Luke as he turns on his heel. Dumbstruck, Luke looks down at his phone, laughing when he realizes that Ashton put a little wolf emoji next to his name. He’s really committed himself to this joke it seems. Luke is too on Cloud Nine to think about it any further, going home to proclaim to Michael that he’s finally met the love of his life and that they’re going on a date.

***

Luke has been anxious waiting for his “date” with Ashton. He refuses to call it a date, doesn’t want to get his hopes up, even though Michael has been calling it one for the last week. He’s been talking to Ashton almost nonstop since getting his number. It’s been fun, sending Ashton his daily thoughts and happenings of the day. He’d sent Ashton a picture of chocolate the other day and had gotten a little frowny face emoji in response. It’s terribly endearing of Ashton and Luke thinks it’s funny that he’s so committed to some goofy werewolf joke for the season.

They’d agreed to meet on the 30th, later in the afternoon after work, which seemed like a dumb idea to Luke, even if Ashton insists that it’s more fun going through Halloween stores to try and make a costume out of what’s leftover. Especially because Ashton insists that the store he knows outside of the city has better things. Luke has been standing outside of the subway entrance for the last fifteen minutes and he’s starting to get nervous that Ashton isn’t coming. Luke’s just about steeled himself to give up and go home when Ashton comes sprinting down the block, stopping directly in front of Luke. He bends in half, hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath.

“Sorry. I got a little hung up this morning and lost track of time,” Ashton says, still trying to take a deep breath. He looks disheveled and winded, curls tangled around his face and brown eyes wide as he looks up at Luke. He looks like he’s doing his best imitation of a puppy who knows they shouldn’t have wrecked something and now they’re hoping to fix it by being cute. Luke would like to pretend it won’t work on him, but who is he kidding.

“It’s fine. I was just worried you forgot,” Luke says, trying to keep his tone light and not betray his worry.

“How could I forget a date with the cutest guy to look at costumes?” Ashton asks, an earnest expression on his face.

Luke blushes, glancing away from Ashton. He doesn’t want to admit how much of an effect Ashton has on him. He hasn’t known Ashton long enough to be this smitten.

“We should leave now if we want to make the train in time. Your running late messed up our time table,” Luke says.

Ashton grins. “Who knew you were so punctual? We’d better hurry, then.”

Ashton grabs a hold of Luke’s hand, tugging him down into the subway station. Luke allows himself to be pulled along, too focused on the grip Ashton has on his hand to pay attention to much of anything else. He’s only mildly aware of swiping his Metrocard and rushing to the right platform for the train.

They manage to make it in time, Ashton tugging them to an open seat. They collapse onto the seats, pressed close to each other. Luke is hyper aware of how their thighs are touching; they’re pressed together from shoulder to hip. Ashton hasn’t let go of Luke’s hand, instead choosing to lace their fingers together and squeeze. Luke flushes, surprised at how affectionate Ashton is with someone who is largely a stranger.

“So, how do you know about this place? You mentioned it was a little outside of town,” Luke asks, hoping that focusing on the conversation will take his attention away from Ashton’s grip. He’s never been this smitten over someone who’s human. He’s supposed to have this effect on people, not the other way around.

“A friend of a friend. I found out about it one year when I was looking for a costume in college and now I just keep going back. It’s nice. They always have a good selection and it’s usually stuff I wouldn’t know about.”

Luke hums. He doesn’t have very many friends here. Despite the fact that he works at a fairly nice interior design company in the city, it’s hard for Luke to make friends. He has to always be on alert about using his magic and about being too open with non-magical people. It makes him worried and anxious some days, especially when he uses his magic at work for little things. Sometimes he uses it to change the color of a couch or curtains when he can’t find the right color. Sometimes he uses it on the room he’s designing, to bring his clients peace and happiness. He’s never malicious with his magic. Despite the stories, fairies aren’t supposed to be mean. They’re mischievous and like playing tricks, but magic shouldn’t be mean. Luke just likes using his magic when he knows it will help his clients, give them everything they want. He knows it’s why Michael opened the little café he owns, started using magic blended into the food and drinks for happiness and easing worries and whatever else he thought people might need. It’s nice, knowing that there’s some way the two of them can help people.

Ashton clears his throat, drawing Luke’s attention back to him.

“So Luke, what do you do? You seem awfully free during the day for someone with a job.”

“I’m an interior designer. Usually I’m working at this time, but sometimes I get a little flexibility with my schedule,” Luke says. He doesn’t mention that he might have spelled his boss a little to let him leave early so he could meet Ashton. It’s not like Ashton needs that information.

Ashton gives Luke a once over, smiling a bit, “I can see that. You seem very stylish and put together. You would be something snotty.”

Luke scoffs in fake offense and smacks Ashton on the shoulder, “Well, what do you do, Mr. Big Shot, that lets you leave in the middle of a work day if you’re going to tease me?”

“I’m a lawyer. Nothing too fancy, I do copyright law and such, but it’s nice.”

“Well, maybe you’re the fancy one with your high rise job,” Luke says. Ashton frowns a little bit before he must realize Luke is teasing. He huffs, rolling his eyes.

They chat for a bit on the rest of the drive, talking about growing up back home and what brought them here (school it seems is the answer), and what it is they do at their jobs. Luke’s so caught in the conversation, he almost forgets why they’re even on this trip until Ashton perks up.

“Our stop is next.”

“What?” Luke asks, letting Ashton pull him up to stand and tug him towards the door. Luke doesn’t know how Ashton even heard any kind of announcement from where he was sitting.

Ashton ignores him, instead tugging him towards the door. Luke grabs onto one of the poles as the train slows, still managing to slide a little bit and bump into Ashton. They’re still holding hands.

The train comes to a stop and Ashton tugs Luke out and down the street, pulling them in the direction of where the shop must be. It’s an older looking building, with a sign out front advertising the Halloween store inside. It feels lived in, a product of love and familiarity around it. It puts Luke at ease a bit, convinced there won’t be creepy statues jumping out at him here.

There’s a bell over the door that dings when they enter. Ashton clears his throat before yelling, “Kaykay!”

There’s a thump from somewhere in the back of the store and then Luke hears an excited, “Ashton?”

The girl that pops out from the back curtains is short with bright blue hair. Her face breaks into a wide grin as she sprints across the store, launching herself at Ashton to wrap her arms around him in a hug. Luke doesn’t realize until Ashton tugs his hand away to hug the girl, laughing, that he’s been holding his hand the whole time. He blushes, glancing away.

“What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you in ages,” Kaykay says when she detangles herself from Ashton.

Ashton grins, “I’m taking a friend costume shopping and thought of your store. Figured I had to show him a proper Halloween store.”

They both turn their attention to Luke. Luke blushes under the gaze of this girl, clearly an old friend of Ashton’s. She narrows her eyes a bit, looking Luke up and down. He must pass whatever test she has though, because her face breaks into a grin and she sticks her hand out.

“Kaykay. I own this lovely shop. You seem much too nice for our Ashton. How on Earth did you meet him?”

“Luke. He harassed me in a store about Halloween decorations and now I can’t seem to get rid of him,” Luke says, shaking her hand. She laughs loudly, snorting slightly at the end. Ashton pouts, but there’s a look in his eyes that’s almost relief. Luke tries not to read too much into it, that Ashton’s happy that Luke and one of his friends are getting along.

“Well, if you want good costumes this is the place. I have it all. Ashton can show you around. Holler if you need anything,” She says, bumping Ashton’s shoulder with a grin as she heads towards the back again.

“How do you know her? Doesn’t seem like the kind of place for a lawyer to casually be at.”

“Her girlfriend is my tattoo artist,” Ashton says, heading in the direction of what looks like the magical creature section. Luke perks up, following him. Maybe if he plays it right, he can see Ashton’s tattoos.

Ashton rugs out a pair of purple fairy wings and shows them to Luke. They’re ornate, large and iridescent in the light. Luke’s surprised by how close to accurate they are, running his fingers along the edge of them. They remind him of his own wings as they catch the light, casting a rainbow into the ground.

“What about these?”

“They’re lovely, but I already have my costume. Besides, we’re looking for something for you,” Luke points out, letting go of the wings and setting off further into the aisle. He stops in front of the werewolf costumes, face to face with another snarling mask. He startles, taking a step back and bumping into Ashton.

“What about this? You keep making all those jokes about werewolves.”

“You can’t be serious, Luke? I mean, look at it. It’s not even close to accurate. Werewolves are part wolves, they wouldn’t stand on two legs. And besides, they wouldn’t have red eyes either.”

“You sure know a lot about werewolves for someone who claims to dislike the way they’re portrayed.”

“I, uh, read a lot,” Ashton says, blushing a bit when Luke looks at him, raising an eyebrow. It’s adorable seeing him so passionate about something. Luke leans over, brushing a strand of loose hair behind Ashton’s ear. Luke feels so warm suddenly, this close to him, casual touches and all. He can’t possibly feel like he’s known Ashton so long, so personally, but he does. It feels like Ashton keeps sharing intimate parts of himself with Luke and Luke’s never been so taken by a human before. It’s going to break Luke’s heart if Ashton figures out that Luke is a fairy and leaves him. It’s happened before, but Luke doesn’t know if he could survive this one.

A crash from the back of the store startles them both. Luke pulls his hand away from Ashton’s ear, blushing as he turns back to the costumes. He picks up a pair of wolf ears and sticks them on top of Ashton’s head.

“Here, you can wear these instead. Now you’re a cute werewolf,” Luke says, giggling. Ashton smiles, touching the tips of the ears. Luke pulls a wolf tail off the rack too, holding it out to Ashton. He laughs, sharp and quick, grinning from ear to ear.

“You’re really going to lean into the wolf thing, huh?”

“Well, you made all those werewolf comments. What else could you possibly be?” Luke says. He misses the way Ashton tenses slightly, relaxing when he must realize Luke’s teasing him.

“You need to get something too,” Ashton points out. He turns back towards where they came from, heading off in that direction again. Luke follows after him, stopping when Ashton picks up an intricate floral headpiece and puts it onto Luke’s head.

“If you’re going to be a fairy, you need a headpiece. It’s tradition,” Ashton says firmly. Luke doesn’t usually wear any type of floral headpiece because it feels too on the nose, but the earnest adoration on Ashton’s face as he looks at Luke might sway him. Luke nods and Ashton grins, taking the crown off his head and continuing through the store.

They walk around for a little bit, commenting on the different costumes and decorations until it’s late enough that they both realize they have to head back home. They take their purchases up the register, where Kaykay’s standing, staring at the two of them. She laughs, pointing at the wolf ears Ashton’s still wearing, clearly forgotten about. Ashton blushes, pulling them off and putting them on the counter for her to ring up and bag.

They head back to the subway and ride it back into the City. Luke’s exhausted suddenly, tired from the day and knowing that he’ll have to spend part of tomorrow setting up for the party.

“Have fun at your Halloween party. You’ll have to send me a picture of your outfit once you get all dressed up,” Ashton says when they finally leave the subway, getting ready to part ways.

“You’ll have to show me how the wolf ears look with your whole outfit. Very Teen Wolf of you,” Luke says. Ashton laughs and leans over, placing a kiss on Luke’s cheek before turning to walk away, waving. Luke is stunned, rooted to the spot when he realizes that Ashton just kissed him. Ashton gets halfway down the block before he stops, turning back to look at Luke, red in the face. Luke waves back, hoping his face doesn’t betray how startled he feels. Ashton waves back, turning around and heading off in his direction. Luke turns around, following suit.

He makes it all the way home, still stunned by the turn of events.

“What’s gotten into you?” Michael asks, when Luke enters the apartment.

“I think I have a crush on a human.”

Michael groans, shaking his head, “You’re a disaster fairy, you know that right?”

Luke changes Michael’s hair pink in retaliation.

***

The party’s in full swing by nine. Luke is overwhelmed, his apartment crammed with people and loud with music. He’s been playing host for the last few hours, but it’s simply too much for him to handle; too much energy to talk to all the people here and smile and laugh, when most of them are Michael’s friends, or people he’s met at the bakery and friends of friends and Luke has had to use too much of his charm to keep up appearances. He’d lost Michael as soon as Calum showed up to help set up, Michael happy to latch himself onto his boyfriend, covering him in glitter and laughing, giddy and excited. Calum is dressed as some kind of Devil, red horns and all, grinning wildly when he’d seen Michael’s look.

Michael and Luke tend to take advantage of the fairy wings, working them into every Halloween costume they do. Luke tends to go classy with his look, soft fabrics and light colors, trying to look enchanting and ethereal. Michael tends to go the way of a Victoria’s Secret model, short skirts and bright colors. Tonight’s no different. Luke can see the tips of Michael’s bright green wings in the kitchen, where he’s laughing next to Calum, in his black lacy bra and matching lacy boy shorts. This year, he’s wearing a long floral printed skirt, cut high in the front to expose the lace panties, and a matching floral see-through top on, covered in small fake flowers in bright blues. He’s surrounded by a cloud of glitter, sparkling in the light and charming everyone who’s talking to him. Although, some of that could be the fact that his nipples are practically visible in the bra and that Calum has one hand wrapped around his waist, squeezing Michael’s hip whenever someone laughs too loud or gets too close to Michael. Michael doesn’t seem to mind, though, leaning into Calum whenever he does it, turning to kiss him on the cheek.

Luke is hiding in the corner of the living room, drinking whatever cider it is they have and wondering if he can hide from the crowd in his room without being rude, when he hears a whistle to his right.

“If I’d known you would be here, I’d have brought some flowers to go with your crown,” a familiar voice next to him says. Luke perks up when he realizes who it is.

“Ashton! What are you doing here?” Luke turns, laughing when he sees Ashton. He’s wearing the wolf ears and tail they’d bought together, a red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up and jeans. Luke can see that Ashton has a set of moon tattoos on his forearm. He looks like a perfectly ordinary “werewolf,” smiling shyly at Luke as he gets closer.

“Would you believe me if I said Calum’s my best friend? He kept saying he was going to a party his boyfriend was hosting and asked me to come along, said Michael wouldn’t mind. I have to say, the decorations I picked out look nice. And I appreciate the candy,” Ashton says, grinning as he shakes the packet of sour gummies. Luke blushes, laughing and glancing away. It’s charming, how committed Ashton is to the joke of the whole thing, standing in Luke’s living room, framed by the low lights as Monster Mash plays in the background. He can’t believe a human is having this effect on him; it's ridiculous.

“Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying the party.”

“Enjoying it much more now that I’ve seen you. I’m glad to see you’re wearing the crown. When you said you were dressing as a fairy, I wasn’t expecting this. They look so real,” Ashton says in awe, reaching out to ghost his fingers lightly over Luke’s wings. They’re beautiful, iridescent pink and purple, gold glitter shedding from them whenever Luke moves slightly. Luke’s dropped his glamour for the night, letting his ears and noses become pointer, eyes their usual liquid gold color, framed in gold eyeshadow and pink lipstick. Luke’s even wearing the flower crown, soft pink and yellow blending into his blonde curls. He thinks his wings look nice with the gauzy green tulle dress he’s wearing, covered in little fabric flowers. He’s wearing a forest green lace bodysuit underneath it, easily visible through the tulle, and nude high heels. Luke knows he looks good, miles of long legs shimmering in the light, every bit the part of ethereal fairy the storybooks say he is. Ashton looks captivated by Luke, unable to look away from his wings. It bothers Luke a little, worried that Ashton only likes him because of how pretty he looks, not because of who he is.

“They should. I paid good money for this,” Luke says, his usual answer whenever someone asks about the wings. “I should have known you’d go as a werewolf, though. Are the tattoos special just for it?”

Luke reaches out, brushing a thumb over Ashton’s forearm. Ashton shudders a little under Luke’s touch, moving his arm to give him a better view of the little red and black moons. They look like a series of moon phase tattoos. How appropriate.

“You’re very committed to your werewolf joke.”

“Yeah, something like that. I saw them in a painting once and had to get them. I’ve always liked the moon,” Ashton says, voice low, watching as Luke continues to rub his thumb over them. They’re breathing in sync, Luke realizes, connected by Luke's touch on Ashton’s skin, Ashton’s fingertips still pressed lightly to Luke’s wings. Luke wants to make a joke, turn on the charm and flirt with Ashton like he usually does with people, but he can’t find the words. He’s so captivated by Ashton and his presence, trapped in his pull.

There’s a loud whoop from the kitchen area, startling them both. Luke pulls his hand back, gripping onto his bottle tighter as Ashton coughs slightly, tugging on his sleeve.

“Do you want to, um, I can give you a tour?” Luke says, voice raising in question as he glances at Ashton. Ashton perks up at that, glancing at Luke.

“Sure. I’d love to see your little home.”

Luke nods, taking the last pull from his bottle, noticing that Ashton’s staring at his throat when he tips his head back. Luke puts the bottle on the table next to them, turning to Ashton and putting on his best flirty smile.

Luke takes Ashton’s hand, interlocking their fingers and tugging him into the back of the apartment.

“You’ve seen the kitchen and the living room already. Michael’s room is back here and so is the bathroom and my room,” Luke says. He stops in front of the bathroom door, waving his hand a little to the inside. Ashton steps in, whistling when he notices the floral shower curtain and all the other little flower accents in the room.

“You guys really like flowers don’t you?”

“Well, we have to have some nature in the middle of the big city,” Luke says, stepping in after Ashton. Luke closes the door gently behind him, muffling some of the noise from the party. Ashton turns to Luke, smiling.

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing. It’s nice, sweet of you. Matches your outfit,” He says. He takes a step towards Luke, raising his hand a little as if he’s going to touch the flowers on Luke’s dress. He glances up at Luke, tilting his head in question. Luke nods quickly.

Ashton grins, running his fingers along one of the flowers on Luke’s dress. He uses his other hand to reach up and cup Luke’s cheek in his hand, humming slightly.

“Your ears are very impressive. I’m sure Kaykay would love to know where you found them. Your eyes are so golden.”

“I use really good contacts,” Luke mumbles, turning into Ashton’s palm. He presses a soft kiss to the palm, hoping it will signal to Ashton that he wants to be kissed. Ashton seems to understand, tugging Luke down a little and pressing a soft kiss to Luke’s lips.

Luke deepens the kiss, tilting his head and nipping lightly on Ashton’s lips. Ashton growls, turning them so Luke is pressed against the countertop. Ashton pulls away, nipping along Luke’s jawline and neck. Luke squirms a little, giddy and excited about the turn of events. Ashton runs his hands along the back of Luke’s thighs. Luke sighs at the touch on his legs, warm through the dress fabric, hypersensitive and hyper aware of what’s happening.

Ashton nudges Luke slightly, obviously trying to get him to sit on the counter. Luke obliges, pushing himself up onto the edge and tugging Ashton in between his spread thighs. Ashton continues to kiss along his neck and collarbone, running his fingers along Luke’s legs, pressing under the skirt and onto his skin. Luke wraps both arms around Ashton’s shoulders, playing slightly with the curls at the base of his neck. Ashton leans up, pulling Luke back into a soft, open mouth kiss, full of warmth and the sour sweet taste of candy.

Ashton pulls back, glancing up at Luke. He’s shimmering with glitter from Luke’s touch. His face is full of such wonder and adoration and for a moment Luke is afraid. Afraid that Ashton doesn’t like him at all, that Luke’s just used his magic to have his way and Ashton is going to leave him.

“You’re so beautiful. I’m going to be covered in glitter forever.”

“Well, at least you’ll have something to remember me by,” Luke teases, trying to keep the mood light. Ashton hums, running his fingers along the edge of the body suit, squeezing at Luke’s thighs.

“As much as I love kissing you, I do tend to prefer to take the people I fancy out on dates first.”

“Oh?”

“Would you maybe want to get breakfast? Brunch? Something food related in the daylight. A proper date. Tomorrow?”

Luke’s heartbeat speeds up. Ashton looks so earnest and open, glancing up at Luke bashfully. It’s so charming and endearing to see Ashton like this.

“Of course I would,” Luke whispers, running his fingers through Ashton’s hair. Ashton grins, nuzzling into Luke’s neck as Luke laughs.

“Wonderful. Amazing. We should get back to the party before anyone misses us.”

Luke nods, let’s Ashton help him down off the countertop and straighten himself out. He presses a kiss to Luke’s bare shoulder, grinning when he catches Luke’s eye in the mirror.

They venture back into the party, going off to find Michael and Calum. Luke realizes halfway through talking to them that Ashton is holding his hand, that he hasn’t let go since the bathroom. He catches Michael’s eye, who’s grinning and wiggling his eyebrows at him. Luke huffs, glancing away from him and back to Ashton. It feels right, standing here in his kitchen, close to Ashton. It feels like he was always meant to be here. He doesn’t even mind when he has to help clean up later with Michael, after everyone has left and it’s just the two of them.

Luke changes and gets into bed, checking his phone before going to sleep, seeing that there’s a text from Ashton. It’s a little heart, message reading Good night sweet fairy. Luke blushes, but his heart soars at the idea of a boyfriend, of Ashton as his boyfriend. He knows he’ll have to explain himself tomorrow but for now, he can live in this little fantasy world where everything is perfect and no one will get their heart broken with any kind of revelation.

***

Luke is nervous. Luke has never been nervous for a date before. He’s gone out with plenty of people, human and magical alike, and he’s never been nervous. Yet here he is, standing outside of the little coffee shop he and Ashton agreed to meet at, biting his lip and twisting his ring around his finger. He’s bitten his lip raw it seems, too anxious and worked up about seeing Ashton to sit still. He’s been thinking about this since last night, spent half the night staring up at the ceiling worrying about seeing Ashton. What if Ashton only likes him because Luke accidentally used his magic? What if Ashton only likes this magical version of Luke, and not Luke, who’s regular and boring and ordinary?

Luke doesn’t know if he can take it if Ashton doesn’t like him the same way. Luke’s been known to accidentally enchant people before, put them under a fairy spell, creating love where there is none. It’ll break his heart if the spark he’s felt with Ashton is manufactured and fake. He likes Ashton so much, all teasing and bright laughs, dorky jokes and adoring eyes.

“What’s got you so focused?” Ashton’s voice startles Luke, pulling his attention to the man who’s appeared out of nowhere. Ashton looks good, with his leather jacket and windswept hair. He looks worried as he stares at Luke.

“Nothing. Just nervous, that’s all.”

Ashton reaches forward, grabbing Luke’s hand. “About what?”

Luke looks down at their interlocked fingers, blushing when Ashton rubs his thumb along the back of Luke’s hand. “Our date.”

“There’s nothing to be nervous about. I’ve already seen your apartment and I’ve met your annoying roommate. You’ve met my annoying best friend and you laugh at my bad jokes. We’ve already passed all the awkward steps of dating.”

“Dating?” Luke squeaks out. If he’d known they were dating, he would have dressed nicer.

Ashton grins. “As long as you don’t order chocolate.”

He tugs a stunned Luke into the coffee shop, going up to the counter to order them coffee and sandwiches to eat. He takes the number from the girl at the register and guides them towards an empty table.

“So, if we’re going to date, I think there’s something I need to tell you,” Luke says. Better to get it over with now before either of them gets in too deep.

Ashton’s face falls, “You know?”

“Know what?”

“About me?”

Luke pauses, tilting his head in confusion, “What about you?”

“That I’m, you know…”

“A big fan of dogs? You like fairy tales? You make bad jokes?” Luke asks. He’s terribly confused as to what Ashton could be talking about. Ashton’s a human, isn’t he?

Ashton groans. He leans back in the chair, tilting his head up. “Oh my god I thought Cal would have told you both.”

“Told us what? Ashton, what was Calum supposed to tell us?”

“That we’re werewolves,” Ashton hisses out, leaning in close to Luke. Luke’s eyes go wide. He’s completely shocked. Although, maybe all the jokes now about werewolves make more sense. God, the moon tattoos are a dead give away, aren’t they now?

“What?”

“I thought you knew! Not before at the stores, obviously, but at the party. When I realized Calum was dating your friend. I thought Calum had told you both already.”

“But the decorations! The costume! Your tattoos! Wait, are you allergic to chocolate,” Luke says. The panic is rising in his throat, shock clouding his judgement, glee tinting the edges of his mood. Ashton can’t possibly be a werewolf, Luke can’t possibly be that lucky. That Ashton’s like him.

“I mean, most humans don’t get the jokes. But I thought you would have known about it. Except you didn’t say anything so I thought you were trying to be secretive about it. And no, I’m not allergic. It's just a funny little joke Calum and I have. And I prefer sour gummies, anyway,” Ashton says. His voice is rising in pitch, worry clear in his face.

Luke is giddy though, full of glee. This means that Ashton is magical too! He understands Luke. Luke doesn’t have to hide! Luke reaches across the table, grabbing Ashton’s hand. “I should tell you that Michael and I are fairies.”

It’s Ashton’s turn to look shocked and confused. “A what? Like, with the wings and shit? Like Tinkerbell?”

Luke gasps in mock offense, smacking Ashton, “Not like Tinkerbell. Do I look small to you?”

“Bratty enough,” Ashton says, grinning.

“Well I’m not the werewolf with moon tattoos.”

“Hey, you’re the fairy who wore his wings as a costume. Wait..that look wasn’t a costume, you actually look like that?”

“Of course I do! Real wings and everything. What do you take me for?”

“My whole bed is covered in glitter just from touching you. God I’m going to be covered in glitter forever, aren’t I?”

“Only if you play rough during your time of the month,” Luke teases.

“Excuse me Tinkerbell, it’s very rude to ask a werewolf about that. That’s a private and special thing.”

“Shit, I’m sorry.”

Ashton grins, nudging his foot against Luke’s, “Nah, I’m just messing with you. You deserve it after all the glitter I found in my hair.”

“Just for that, I’m going to make sure you’ll be finding glitter all over your body forever.”

“Forever? Only if you promise to wear more of that lingerie.”

Luke huffs, rolling his eyes. He lets Ashton reach over and thread their fingers together again, kissing the back of Luke’s hand. Luke blushes.

“You’re taking this surprisingly well,” Luke says. Ashton glances over at him.

“I mean, I am a werewolf.”

“And me being a fairy doesn’t bother you?”

“Should it?”

“It’s just, you know, the magic thing.”

“Are you worried you’re enchanting me? The only thing you’ve done is enchant me with how pretty you are. Werewolves are mostly immune to that kind of thing, anyway.”

Luke relaxes a little, slumping back into the chair. Ashton grins, leaning over the table to place a quick peck to Luke’s lips.

“What was that for?”

“You’re just the cutest. I’m very lucky to have such a cute boyfriend. Make all the other werewolves jealous.”

“Boyfriend?”

Ashton blushes, “I mean, if you want to. I’d like to date. Take you out places, cover my bed in glitter, other things.” Ashton wiggles his eyebrows.

Luke rolls his eyes. “Werewolves are massive dorks.”

“Only for you, Sugar Plum Fairy. Only for you,” Ashton says, laughing in the face of Luke’s mock horror and outrage. The conversation ends as their server brings them their drinks and food. They go about eating their meal, Ashton just as messy as Luke thought a werewolf would be.

“You’re staring,” Ashton says, glancing up at Luke.

“Just watching you eat, looking to see if I can see your fangs,” Luke teases. Ashton rolls his eyes, sticking his tongue out.

Luke is content, though, watching Ashton throughout the meal as he alternates between trying to eat politely and then giving up and talking with his mouth full. It’s endearing, Luke thinks, getting to date a werewolf. He’s charming and funny and Luke can’t believe that a halloween decoration got him a boyfriend. He absolutely refuses to tell Michael about this part of the story.

#5 seconds of summer #5soshalloweenevent2020 #lashton #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #my writing #it wouldnt be me if there wasnt magic involved now would there

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