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01zfan · 2 months ago

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contact | o. sh

ex!shotaro x ex!reader | 11k words

i unfortunately went crazy with the backstory on this but i love economics major shotaro so i had to write about him. also the ex that comes to help you without hesitation is SOOOO him. this was fun to write i hope you guys have fun reading heh. how this ended up being 11k words is beyond me.

contains: college setting, mommy issues mentioned in passing, a funeral (purely just for the setting), reader is tipsy (they talk about it), unprotected sex (shotaro pulls out)

Anyone who passed by the library could feel the collective anguish of the students trapped inside. By no means were they preparing last minute for their assignments and tests that were coming up, in fact they were ahead of their peers. The students that were smart and disciplined enough to spend their Saturday nights locked away in study rooms still suffered the same, they just did it before everyone else.

That’s what Shotaro was doing currently with his study group. They were currently seven deep, occupying the biggest table the main room of the library had to offer. Even if no food or drink was allowed in the study space, this late into the night there was an unspoken rule that you could have a snack and an energy drink on the condition you cleaned up after yourself. Shotaro’s group took full advantage of this rule—plastic wrappers from the vending machine snacks were spread across the table. Crumbs from chips and cookies were on top of keyboards and condensation from iced coffees and chilled energy drinks made the pages of their notebooks wet. Despite the mess all of them were locked into their screens or their journals, going over assignments and final projects like their lives depended on it.

“Hyung, whats the four types of labor in economics?” Anton, the only non-declared economics major in the group looked across the table to Eunseok.

Despite being a labor economics major Eunseok still sarcastically looked up to the sky like he didn’t know the answer. Shotaro took a break from typing his economic theory paper to lightly push into Eunseok’s side. He had the habit of picking on Anton, but that seemed to come with the territory of being the youngest. Anton always took it in stride, purposefully grumbling out loud to illicit a reaction from his hyungs. When Eunseok was done teasing Anton he went back to his notebook, writing something from a lecture he was watching on his laptop.

“There’s skilled, unskilled, semi-skilled, and—” Eunseok looked expectantly to Anton.

Anton’s question broke the stretching silence of the group. Hearing two humans interact with eachother in God knows how long caught everyones attention. Sohee lifted his headphones from his ear waiting for the answer. Everyone waited for anton to answer with bated breath, like it was a game of jeopardy.

What is traditional labor? Anton asks with a smile that tells everyone he already knows he’s wrong.

There’s a collective groan at the table. Eunseok puts his head in his hands at the wrong answer and Sungchan just laughed in his face. The late night was making everything a little more funny, and Anton’s terrible attempt at knowing about economics made the serious atmosphere of the study group crumble.

“You are shit at economics.” Wonbin delivered his insult with sincerity, complete with a slow shake of his head.

“What the hell is traditional labor anyways?” Sungchan asked, looking around the table for an answer.

Anton even laughed about his terrible attempt to know about labor economics. He smiled to himself and shook his head before letting it hang.

Shotaro felt for the youngest, he really did. He was still a freshman with so much time to decide on his focus in economics—or to switch his major all together. Shotaro almost reminded Eunseok how bad he was at economics before someone’s phone started vibrating against the table.

Aftershocks of Anton’s wrong answer fizzled as they tried to figure out who was the culprit. People who were sitting at other tables had already lifted their heads from their assignments due to Sungchan’s loud laugh, but they were laser focused on the table that was defying the strict no sound policy.

Shotaro reactivated the sleeping screen on his laptop to get back to work. He was in the middle of rereading the details of an incentive program for a fake company to evaluate the opportunity cost. The contacts he wore felt uncomfortable on his eyes as he focused back. Shotaro leaned back in his uncomfortable creaking chair and let his friends scramble to find the buzzing phone, but when he readjusted his headphones back on his ears he heard the automated voice of his phone saying an unknown number was calling him. Shotaro quickly grabbed his phone that was beside his notebook to decline the call.

For a moment he thought that he forgot to activate the study mode option on his phone. But he remembered his impenetrable do not disturb was null and void if someone cared to call him more than once. Just as Shotaro saw the notification for a separate missed call and a voicemail his phone started ringing again.

Receiving a call this late into the night was odd. Receiving it from a phone number he didn’t recognize was even more odd. Shotaro examined the area code, wracking his mind for another number in his contact list that started with the same digits. He noticed that there wasn’t a spam likely hanging near the number either.

When everyone realized who the culprit was, they started looking one by one. Sungchan looked first, peering from the side of his laptop to stare at Shotaro staring at his phone. Wonbin who sat next to Sungchan was second, and then Eunseok who sat on the other side of Shotaro looked next. Within seconds everyone at the table was looking at Shotaro’s phone. The only thing that pulled Shotaro away from his still vibrating phone was Wonbin calling out to him.

“Hyung, are you gonna answer it?” Wonbin asked.

“Who is it?” Sohee asked.

Everyone shifted in their seats at Sohee’s straightforward question. The thing everyone in the nosy friend group wanted to ask but were too scared to. Sohee couldn’t be bothered, moreso annoyed with the fact that the phone was still vibrating.

“It’s a number I don’t have saved.” Shotaro said as the screen on his laptop timed out again.

Shotaro heard his friends at the table shift in their seats. He could feel all of them trying to inconspicuously exchange looks, trying to remain neutral. Anton went back to looking at his assignment after making a face that was entirely too obvious.

After Shotaro’s phone was finally done ringing and he looked at his friends he noticed all of their sullen faces. He ran his fingers over the trackpad and focused on the potential return of giving hypothetical loyal customers a discount on goods.

“It’s not her you guys.” Shotaro assured. I have her number memorized, and that’s not it.

Instantly Shotaro felt the rest of his friends avert eye contact to focus back on their assignments. Silence fell over all of them, one that was so awkward Shotaro had to clear his throat.

Shotaro couldn’t really blame his friends walking on eggshells. The relationship lasted a majority of college, starting from freshmen orientation and ending exactly twenty-two days ago; ironically around the same time this study group was created. Shotaro and you were likened to the parents as the friend group, and his friends were definitely handling it like a divorce.

Shotaro appreciated the concern, but at the same time he didn’t understand why they were so squeamish and almost scared to bring it up. Yes Shotaro announced the breakup suddenly, just by saying casually yeah we broke up when they asked where you were. Yes Shotaro locked into his academics a little too hard, and yes he has been picking up extra shifts at his job. But that was in no way related to his recent breakup. You two ended things amicably. You even met in a neutral setting with your friends needlessly close by while you gave eachother your belongings back.

Shotaro still thought about the stone table in the park in front of one another when you slid a cardboard box of his belongings over to his side.

“Let me know if I missed anything, but I think I got it all.” You said quietly.

After nodding, Shotaro did the same. Your box had more things in it, he remembers looking at the ring you gifted him still on his index finger as he pushed his cardboard box across the top of the table to you.

“Thanks. I think I got everything too.” He said.

You two texted eachother that gifts were okay to keep, but Shotaro noticed your eyes settled on the ring a little too long. His eyes went to your necklace that no longer had the gold S charm attached to it. He knew better than to expect you to wear something that essentially told everyone you were his, but he wondered if you still had the tiny dolls he gifted you dangling from your backpack or if that would also be in the box of things that were technically his but basically yours. The hoodie that smelled like you now was neatly folded on top and covered everything else. Like the worst mystery box of all time, Shotaro would eventually have to go home and find out what was his now. But he swallowed that forming stone in his throat that had been there for the past week and smiled to you.

“I’ll still be here. If you ever need me.” He said.

The two of you were sitting at that table while life went on in the park for what felt like centuries. You were handling the situations like adults—so overwhelmingly respectful and understanding that your friends thought you two were freaks—so why did it hurt so bad? Why were you both gripping your belongings like you didn’t want to take them back?

“If you need anything, call me.” He said.

He let his promise linger in the air as you smiled and nodded. You looked up to Shotaro one last time before walking off to your friend that was sitting at the park bench. He still felt your hand that clasped over his for a split second as he watched you and your friend leave together. After you were out of his line of sight Shotaro felt Sungchan finally approach him. His friends hand that clasped over his shoulder reminded him that the world was in fact still spinning, and he still had a class to attend.

The work from that class was what he should’ve been focused on now. The awkward silence of the study group finally shifted back to what it was before as everyone locked back into their work. Shotaro was the only one who wasn’t focused—his chin wasn’t in his hands from thinking about the graphs in front of him but from wondering who that was calling him. His mind racked through the list of people he had recently given his phone number to. That group project in Statistics was through email, and he never gave that girl at the bar his number. His eyes cut to his phone beside his laptop, face down again as he thought about the voicemail notification.

He felt an itching in the back of his mind, the urge to rub at his eyes only made him feel more restless. He heard the sound of the clocks ticking further into the night. Before he knew it, Shotaro was pushing his chair out from the table and grabbing his phone. He grabbed the attention of other people in the library and his study group again as he pushed his chair back into the table.

“Gonna go get more snacks.” Shotaro preemptively spoke seeing the looks of confusion and Sohee’s lips part. “Text me if you guys want anything.” He whispered.

Shotaro walked away from the table, and when his back was facing his friends he took his phone out. He cleared past his lockscreen, settling onto his call log. He switched to the ten second voicemail when he was past the quiet zone of the library, and when he was in a space alone he pressed play and brought his phone to his ear.

For a split second, Shotaro thought it would just be white noise on the other end of the line. Another spam bot that surpassed the spam likely warning and was talking to the void of his mailbox waiting for a human reply.

But then he heard a shaky inhale of breath and his eyes widened.

“Taro?”

You were the one trapped in his voicemail box. Shotaro almost said your name back in the same confused tone before his mind registered it was a recording, but as soon as you were there, you were gone. As if you had realized it was a voicemail, you ended the call only to hopelessly call again. Shotaro held his phone to his ear still in shock before hearing the sounds around you abruptly cut off. He pulled his phone from his face and went back to the call logs, not hesitating to press on the unsaved number.

Shotaro walked around in the empty space in front of the large wooden double doors leading to the library as the line rang. He couldn’t stop his mind from drifting to the worst. As the line continued to ring he replayed the hopelessness in your voice as you called out his name and what he thought was a sniffle beforehand. His stomach was in knots as he closed his eyes, trying to will you to answer the phone.

“Taro?”

Shotaro froze in place. His fingers went to the volume button on the side of his phone. They pressed up, up, up while he stood there in shock.

“Taro? Are you there?”

The bibimbap from the dining hall churned in his stomach as your weak voice filtered through the phone. You were so loud but so quiet at the same time. The background noise of the call almost overtook your voice. He heard what he assumed to be yelling until the receiver of the phone focused back on you.

“I’m sorry to call but I’m at a wake and I drank too much,” You paused and Shotaro could hear you sniffle again. He perked up from his hunched position, eyes getting even wider. “and now I can’t stop crying and I’m so embarrassed and I just want to go home but my phone died and I—.”

“Where are you?” Shotaro asked quickly.

For a moment, the sound of yelling and music on the other end of the line made him think you were at a party. But you sighed deep into the receiver, ending the white noise with a tiny embarrassed laugh.

“I’m at my Mom’s?” You said it with lift at the end, like you couldn’t believe you were in this situation either.

Just like that, everything clicked. Shotaro suddenly understood the gist of your situation, just like he did with any situation involving your Mother. His hand reached for the keys in his pocket, trying hard to remember the exact address of your Mom’s house. If he looked back to your texts he should’ve deleted a long time ago he was sure he might be able to find it. He knew you were twenty minutes by train and speedwalking, but ironically thirty minutes by car with the traffic if he was lucky. Shotaro already started thinking about his route to get to you as he peaked inside of the library through the small windows.

“Is this her phone?” Shotaro asked, still looking through the window.

Shotaro looked at his stuff sitting at the table while his friends worked on whatever they were doing. He could leave without going back inside, he had his phone, wallet, and keys already on his person.

“No. It’s my cousin’s.” Shotaro imagined you adjusting your body to bring the phone closer to your face. “I just took it and walked outside.” You said.

“Just stay there, I’ll be there in like twenty minutes, okay?” Shotaro said.

He put his hand on the large wooden door of the library to go back inside, already coming up with an excuse as to why he has to leave early.

Shotaro goes to the table and begins packing his things as calmly and quickly as possible.

Sungchan notices what he’s doing first, taking his headphones off and leaning towards Shotaro.

“You’re leaving?” He asks.

“One of the people i tutor needs help with an assignment.” Shotaro says.

Shotaro spoke in a normal volume, but put things in his bag at a normal pace to seem as casual as possible. Despite his calm demeanor the image of you crying riddled his thoughts. The more he thinks about you, the more rushed he becomes. He starts putting his things inside his bag haphazardly, not caring about his normal order of operations. He still tries hard to seem even keeled to his friends, waiting patiently for one of them to ask the question.

“This late?” Anton asks the question first, eyebrows raised as he checks the time on his phone.

The rest of the table follows Anton’s lead, checking the times on their devices before looking to Shotaro. With all the eyes on him he tries his best to remain neutral, shrugging his shoulders as he puts on his backpack.

“Last minute assignment.” Shotaro adjusts the straps of his backpack and checks his phone again to seem nonchalant. “If you guys are still here I’ll come by.” He says quickly.

If the members of the study group were skeptical, they do not show it. They only nod their heads, Anton and Sohee even talk about heading home soon. Shotaro is quick to bid his friends a farewell, pushing past the large wooden doors of the library to head straight towards the train station.

When Shotaro stood from his seat on the train and waited in front of the doors he checked his messages again. His i’m losing reception, just stay there was still left unread. When the doors finally opened he pushed past them before people could flood into the train car. Shotaro nearly ran out of the station, feet clearing two steps at a time as he made his way back to the street. When Shotaro finally exited the station he searched the walking directions on his phone.

When Shotaro made it to the street he had to reorient his phone a million times, and for the first time in forever he uncharacteristically lost his patience seeing the compass on the navigation app twist and turn. Eventually he was forced to look up to the street signs, pausing for a moment as the flow of car traffic continued around him. When Shotaro remembered walking this path with you he started heading in the general direction, hoping that his phone would eventually catch up.

Each time the traffic lights and cars would stop him from crossing the road, he would go back to his messages. You still hadn’t responded, his delivered message sitting at the bottom of your conversation made him more anxious than it should have. When he was finally able to walk he nearly ran down the path his phone told him to take.

Finally Shotaro turned down a residential street to the road your Mother lived on. The quiet residential area was so different from the busy streets he wanted to illegally cross minutes ago. Now he was looking down the lined rows of cars on the side of the street, looking for anything that was familiar. He sent you another message, one telling you he was close and would be there soon. He looked to the houses, trying to find the number you had sent him before.

He finally recognized your Mother’s car first, all the times she let only Shotaro drive it when you two would go on dates. He only had to keep walking a few steps before he was in front of the house, directly in front of the walkway that would lead him to the door. Shotaro looked for a moment at the house that had all its lights on and music bleeding out of the doors and spilling onto the streets. He swore he could hear your Mother laughing inside and other people having a good time. Shotaro wondered where in that big house were you locked away crying.

He put his heel on the curb, getting ready to call you and tell you he was coming.

“Taro?” A voice sniffled behind him.

Instantly Shotaro turned around. His phone that illuminated his face was forgotten when he saw you sitting on the curb opposite of him. Your body was tucked neatly between the gap of two parallel parked cars. You were almost underneath the streetlamp, but in the dark of night and in his haste Shotaro would’ve never seen you if you didn’t say something.

His feet moved first to close the distance, almost like he was floating towards you. The heel of his dress show scraped the paved road and he was sure he got dust and dirt stuck to his pants as he crouched down to you. Your wide eyes followed him, head tilted upwards as he came in front of you before coming down.

Shotaro was eye level with you in an instant, filled with worry as you looked down at the ground. He didn’t hesitate to situate himself in front of you and put a hand on your shoulder, even when you froze and parted your lips.

“What happened?” He asked.

Your gaze was immediately fixed downwards, fresh tears leaving tiny drops on the pavement. You shook your head trying to remember how you got here.

“I was fine in the beginning.” You started.

Shotaro came even closer when you your cries racked through your body. He pulled you in by your shoulder, then wrapped his other hand around your body when you grabbed his arm. He had you in an embrace, it was shaky as you two leaned side to side but he still held on tight. He almost lost his balance from leaning forward and your clammy hands grasping at whatever you could to soothe yourself. Your sobs echoed in the space between your bodies, your forehead pressed into Shotaro’s collarbone as your tears continued to fall. He didn’t speak as he let you cry, but his hand ran up and down your back let you know it was okay. At one point you sat up from the curb to burrow further into Shotaro’s chest, and your hand held his shoulder like it was your anchor.

He didn’t know how long you two were there for in embrace underneath the streetlamp before you pulled away. Your eyelashes were clumped together as you sat back down on the curb, your body still shaky and hot to the touch. Even when the flush in your face decreased and your cries turned into sniffles Shotaro did not pull his hand away from your shoulders. He only squeezed them gently, silently letting you know you didn’t have to be embarrassed to look at him.

“Do you want to go back inside?” Shotaro asked.

He knew the answer, but still nodded sympathetically when you instantly shook your head. His eyes went to the phone that belonged to your cousin still sat beside you. Shotaro watched your eyes flick from your tear stains on the ground to the phone.

“I have to give my cousin her phone back.” You said, voice still weak.

Shotaro watched you stand up on your shaky heels and wipe the tears away from your eyes. He could see how daunting the prospect of going inside was, the worrying written all over your face. He couldn’t stop himself from grabbing the phone gently out of your hands before smiling up at you. You held onto the device, letting it tug slightly between the two of you.

“I got it, don’t worry.” He said.

You hesitated for a moment before letting the phone go. Shotaro crossed the street in a hurry before heading up to the porch of the house. Shotaro felt sympathy for you as he approached the house, the sound of festivities even made him feel nervous. The sound of laughter boomed and music was even more prominent now, it sounded as though someone was right on the other side of the door. Shotaro looked back to you quickly, seeing your defeated stance next to the curb as he put the phone down. He pulled the sticky notes from his backpack and wrote on it quickly, placing it on the rocking chair next to the door.

You didn’t bother asking what the note said when Shotaro came back to you. You assumed it was along the lines of how you weren’t feeling well and he was going to take you home as you got into the backseat of the cab Shotaro called. He helped you into the car after opening the door for you but made sure to keep his distance once you both got inside. He made a point to sit on the side opposite of you but still held your bag, the black strap clutched in his hand as his backpack sat in his lap.

You watched the lights of your Mom’s house disappear when the driver turned down the road. In the dead silence of the car the situation you were in started sinking in and that rock formed in your throat again at the sight of your ex-boyfriend. You tried picking at the end of your black dress to distract your mind, you tried counting the dancing lights down the road as the car headed back towards campus. Nothing could take your mind off Shotaro right beside you and his hand that tapped on his mid-thigh. You wanted to reach across and hold him, you wanted him to scoot across the chasm between your bodies and let you lean your head on his shoulder. You kept your thoughts to yourself, trying hard to focus on anything else besides the fact that Shotaro was your knight in shining armor. He still had his backpack on, so clearly coming from that study group that seemed to be taking up all his time these days. You wish you had something to distract yourself that same way he did instead of ignoring your emotions until they boiled over at funerals.

When the cab drove off and you were left in front of Shotaro’s apartment you couldn’t define the feeling in your chest. The feeling pulled you towards Shotaro’s apartment, you imagined his hand on the small of your back guiding you up the stairs. The feeling made you push open his front door and walk into the space like you owned it, the feeling brought you to his room as you dug through his drawers looking for clothes you could wear. Shotaro didn’t object, in fact you could’ve sworn you saw a smile as he watched you take off your heels and make a beeline for his bedroom.

Shotaro set his bag down first in his kitchen before following the path you made to his bedroom. He was shocked that when he opened the door he saw your bare back as you shimmied out the your dress. He let out a gasp the same time he turned around, your bag still clutched in his hand.

He stared straight ahead, not daring to turn around even when he heard the sound of you losing your balance and giggling when you regained it. Even if he had seen it all the idea of watching you get undressed didn’t feel right. He knew he lost the privilege of seeing you like that a long time ago, so now he was forced to stare straight ahead at the wall where a picture of you two used to hang. When he heard you stumble again his eyes traveled to the cardboard box in the corner of his room. He kept his space tidy except for that corner, where dark energy hung over like a storm cloud. On days where Shotaro was especially busy that was his designated spot to put dirty clothes and other things he didn’t want to deal with. He was grateful he had the right mind to clean yesterday, but it left a full view of his things that he still believed were yours on full display. He hoped that you wouldn’t notice the cardboard box, he could already hear your sound of surprise if you discovered it. Shotaro would not be able to come up with an excuse as to why he never unpacked the box; he could lie to his friends but he absolutely couldn’t lie to you.

Shotaro heard your occasional grunts when your dress wouldn’t cooperate and your sudden rushed movements when you’d lose your balance. He distracted some more by looking down to our bag in his hand. He saw your legs in his peripheral, but his gaze was caught on the S charm that still hung off of your purse. He had the bag in his hands for God knows how long, but never noticed the swinging silver charm that he bought you all that time ago. It still caught the light the same way as it dangled in his hand.

“Does your family know we broke up?” Shotaro asked, still looking down at the charm.

“You were the only part they liked about me.” Shotaro heard the sound of his bed creak behind him. “So no.” You huffed.

Shotaro still didn’t turn around as he shook his head. He could admit that he hit it off with parents well. He had a killer smile and a personality they could trust, and it didn’t hurt that he was a STEM major at the top of his class. Your parents were doting on him while they looked to you with a scowl on their face. Why haven’t you shown Shotaro where the bathroom is? Why haven’t you served him a plate yet? Why aren’t you saying anything? The night progressed to the point that had to tell your Mother and Father in his soft meet-the-parents voice that he was able to get his own food and didn’t need to be served by you.

From that point and on, Shotaro became a pawn in the constant bickering between you and your Mother. He never knew which side to choose, always going the route of the meditator, but he could only talk himself out of so many tense situations. Eventually he would make a temporary enemy out of you and by the end of the night when you two would head home he would be punished with the silent treatment as you tried to gather yourself.

So maybe it was the truth that your Mom came between the two of you, and maybe being in that house without Shotaro made you realize you couldn’t handle it on your own. Maybe the realization that you couldn’t do anything or hide behind your boyfriends smile made you drink, and the drinks made you so vulnerable that you stole your cousins’ phone and stumbled outside to sit on the curb to call your him.

But what did he know? You were the psychology major not him. He only knew that you moved the S charm that used to hang on your necklace to your bag and your parents still believed you two were together. Shotaro also knew that if he had known you were going back to that house alone he would’ve gladly been your fake boyfriend for the night without a second thought—which could mean nothing.

“I’m done changing.” You said quietly behind him.

Shotaro turned around and was forced to face the sight of you head on. You swam in his t-shirt, the end of it making it down to your mid-thigh. He’s had this exact same view before, of you sitting down looking up at him at this time of night. He didn’t even reach out a hand to assuringly tap your shoulder or pat your head. He only walked past you to his dresser, ignoring the way you followed him as he grabbed his clothes off the top.

“I’m going to change.” Shotaro pointed to the door like you had forgotten.

Before he could circle around his bed to go to the bathroom he heard the bedsprings creak quickly.

“Wait.”

Shotaro turned to you quickly, trying to be hospitable and oblivious to your hand and how it reached out to him. You looked like a memory, his black sheets made it seem like you were stranded in the middle of the ocean. You still had your hand reaching towards him like he was your life life. You crawled to the edge of the bed closest to him and Shotaro stayed planted, trying not to look at the way his shirt fit on you. He watched you reach behind to his contacts case before holding it out towards him.

“You forgot to take out your contacts.” You stuttered.

Shotaro did have the terrible habit of leaving his contact in at night. In fact, it was so terrible caused you to develop the habit of reminding him to take them out. You usually had a smile when you reminded him, you took your job very seriously. But there was no smile on your face as Shotaro’s feet moved him closer to the bed and closer to you, You almost seemed worried as you looked up to him. You silently put out your hands to hold his change of clothes as he took the contacts out. As soon as he reached for his glasses you were already handing them to him, moving quickly but so hesitant at the same time.

He remembers you would always cringe and look away at the sight of Shotaro messing with his eyes, but you stayed alert and focused on him. You didn’t look away even he pinched his fingers together and started touching the surface of his eye. Shotaro watched you come closer until your feet went over the edge of the bed.

“You must be tired.” He said.

Shotaro put his contacts in the solution that you held out politely. He wanted to reach out and hold you like he did outside your Mother’s house. He found it was hard to touch your ex if they weren’t in visible emotional distress, but it tugged at him all the same. He settled for putting a hand on your shoulder and giving it a gentle shake, trying to seem as friendly as possible despite the air becoming volatile.

“It’s not even late.” You respond.

Shotaro only laughs when he hears the bite in your voice. Your phone that finally turned back on says it’s barely past 8PM. He can hear the notifications start to come in, missed calls from your Mother and a text message that says how nice it was to see Shotaro, even if it was through the ring camera on the front door.

“You’re usually nicer when you’re drunk.” Shotaro jokes.

Shotaro takes the solution from your hands and puts it on his bedside table. He starts massaging your shoulder and instantly the crease in your forehead softens. You’re still alert, eyes focused on him and his hands that start slowly working down your arm. He feels the muscles in your arm loosen each time his fingers dig a little deeper. Already you seem more relaxed, there’s a different tension that fills the air.

“I’m not drunk.” You deadpan, but your voice gets softer when you can see Shotaro’s hand on your bicep. “And my friends say I actually get pretty mean when I’m drunk.”

Shotaro is completely silent when he curls his hand around your wrist briefly before moving to your hand.

“I don’t think so. Your eyes become really wide like you’re trying to see everything.” Shotaro takes extra time massaging the back of your hand with his thumb so he can feel your soft palm against the rest of his fingers. “You end every sentence with please and apologize for everything.” He smiles wistfully to himself as he moves his hand to the first knuckle of your index finger. He watches the tip of your finger twitch as a reflex.

“You compliment everything that comes into your line of sight too.” Shotaro is pulled away from your hand when you laugh lightly with him. he looks to you in an instant, and ironically you’re the one that starts looking at your own hand. “You’re always nice, but something about alcohol in your system makes you incredibly—”

“Vulnerable?”

You turn your head and look up at him. Something pulls Shotaro towards you, not just your hand that pinches the fabric of his basketball shorts.

“I was going to say sweet.” Shotaro laughs and brings his hand back to your shoulder. He watches you lean your head to the side until your cheeks rest on top of his knuckles. Shotaro lifts his fingers and rubs his fingers against your cheeks lightly. “Are you feeling vulnerable? Is that why you called me?” He asks.

Shotaro knows you’re lying when you shake your head. He sees that you’re already pretending the first part of the night never happened, that you just found yourself in his bed with his clothes hanging off your body.

“I called you because you know me best.” Shotaro watches you pause to swallow thickly. “And you’re the only person I wanted to call.” You say while scooting closer to the edge of the bed.

You had the phone numbers of your friends etched into your mind from years of contact. You could’ve called any of them, but you had Shotaro on the other end of the line in seconds. When he didn’t pick up the first time you had the chance to ring one of your friends instead. But for some reason you rang him again. And again. You would’ve spent the whole night calling him, until the sun came up and your cousin’s phone died. You knew he would come. Even if you broke his heart and he broke yours. You knew Shotaro would drop everything to come to your aid because that’s just who he was.

“Shotaro.” You whispered, so pitifully.

Shotaro realizes a moment too late that he’s gotten himself into a situation he won’t be able to get out of. He avoids your eye contact suddenly, instead focusing on your thin gold necklace that disappears underneath the collar of his shirt. His efforts were thwarted when he felt your hand clasp around his forearm. Everything in him that screamed not to look at you turned to a whisper when he caught your eye.

He hesitated for a moment, and when he didn’t move away in time you traveled your hand down his arm until you reached his palm. Everything else in the world fell out as Shotaro caressed your cheek and your hand moved to clasp over his.

“Please.” You continued. “You’re the only one I wanted to call.”

He watched your hand cover the ring you gifted him as your grip tightened around his fingers.

Even if you didn’t explicitly say what you were asking for, Shotaro already knew. He unfortunately had your habits engraved so deeply into his mind he believed he’d never forget. Your defense mechanism of sarcasm that bordered bullying melted down and left you looking for closeness in any form possible. The proximity after a prolonged period of no contact made Shotaro believe you were looking to find that tenderness you so intensely craved from him. That’s why he knew that even if you stopped staring at him you were far from done. He patiently waited for your next attack while he continued to hold your cheek.

“I told you I’d always be here for you.” He said.

Shotaro watched you close your eyes, the view from above let him see your eyelashes fan your cheek. When you opened your eyes again they were blown wide, pleading for something more.

“Can you touch me?” You asked.

Shotaro already expected another one of your subtle hints. He nodded and started caressing your cheek again to emphasize what he was doing for you.

“I am.” He answered.

Shotaro could tell you were getting frustrated. He waited for your next hint as you continued staring at him. His other hand went to the perplexed crease in your eyebrow. The crease only deepens when you close your eyes and let out a deep breath.

“Can we have sex?” You ask.

He stops completely at your question. He could count on one hand the amount of times he heard you ask for sex explicitly. Usually you told him through pulling at his shirt or pinching his skin. Hearing sex fall from your lips, albeit hesitantly, was so was foreign to him. Usually you opted for a shy it in place of the word but most of the time you never said it at all. It took a full three seconds for Shotaro to recover before shaking his head.

“You’re drunk.” He said.

“I’m not drunk,” When you pulled your hand away in defiance Shotaro didn’t react. He only pointed towards your other arm. You had it propped up on the edge of his bed while your massaged arm moved to do the same. You dug your hand deeper into the edge of the mattress, but a second later it was lifted and floating towards Shotaro’s hands. “I sobered up during the walk and the cab ride.” You reasoned.

Shotaro was speechless again. He wondered how long you had your rebuttals lined up, ready to defend yourself at any moment. But he remained steadfast remembering the state he found you in, avoiding the streetlight and slinking into the darkness like a nocturnal animal while you closed in on yourself like a collapsing star. He swore he could still see the remnants of tear stains smeared across your eye bags and the tip of your nose was still irritated by sniffling and rubbing. Shotaro found the strength to deny you again, shaking his head with a small smile to offset the look of disappointment that settled across your face.

“Having sex with me will not make you feel better.” Shotaro said gently.

Shotaro felt your hand stiffen in his hold. He could tell you felt the frustration, he tried to distract the both of you by driving his fingers deeper into your palm. When you normally would’ve winced you only stayed still, your eyes fixed on his hand holding yours.

You admittedly felt frustration from not getting what you wanted. Having Shotaro deny you anything—much less sex—felt so alien it nearly placed you out of your body. Having him tend to you in every way he did as a boyfriend over the course of the evening left you searching for the last thing. You wanted him to take care of you in that final way, you needed him to. There seemed to be no better way to cope with the overwhelming wrong in your life than to have morally ambiguous sex with the ex you couldn’t get rid of.

“Being with you has always made me feel better.” You say.

You don’t try to sound teasing. You have lost entirely too much of your mystery tonight to be anything but upfront. You let the desperation come from you in waves and you don’t try to hide how pitiful you feel.

Your lack of shame and overwhelming vulnerability is rewarded when Shotaro looks from your hand to your face. You pray he can see the desire you don’t try to hide and the way you look up at him so pitifully. Shotaro’s hand cradles your face and you can tell he’s looking at you a little closer now. With your free hand you clutch at the bottom of his shirt. It’s soft in between your fingers. You wrinkle the fabric even more when Shotaro holds eye contact with you.

“You were stumbling out of your clothes.” Shotaro said matter-of-factly.

“You know i’m clumsy.” You responded quickly.

Before Shotaro could say anything else your hand clasped over the wrist that cradled your cheek. Shotaro let your hand guide his lower and lower down your body. You let his fingers graze the exposed skin of your neck before pushing it further down to your chest. Shotaro didn’t dare move his hands, he only watched you with a titled head and even expression as you arched your back into his outstretched palm.

“I’ll do all the work.” You emphasized your point by clasping your hand over Shotaro’s, molding his hand against your chest. He felt your hardened nipple press against his palm as you leaned even further forward. “You can stop at anytime. Just need a little.” You said.

Shotaro exercised his strength by pulling away from your chest. He stayed in the same spot by his bed, looking down at your defeated expression. He tried to think about how long it’s been since you had alcohol in your system, how you didn’t have that far off look in your eye like you usually did when you drank.

He almost found the strength to turn you down again. But you looked up to him with your big blown out eyes and pouty lips. He crumbled when he felt you pull at the belt loop of his jeans weakly.

“Tell me what this is before we go any further.” Shotaro said sternly.

Your hands stopped pulling at his belt loops and you nodded quickly. You sat up with perfect posture on the bed to show Shotaro you really were in the right state of mind to be doing this.

“I always feel better when I’m with you.” You started hesitantly backing towards the center of Shotaro’s bed as you kept your eyes on him. “Just take care of me a little bit. That’s all I need.”

You leave Shotaro’s hold to settle in the center of his bed. You wait there for him, playing with the bottom of his shirt to occupy yourself. You keep your eyes on him—because shame is completely foreign to you now—as he stands next to the bed. He continues to stand there unmoving and you let out a tiny breath, something between sinking disappointment and stubborn hope.

You can’t stop your smile and your eyes from widening when Shotaro puts his knee on the bed. You stay on your spot of the mattress as Shotaro slowly brings his other knee to rest on the edge. You already feel excitement bubbling across your body when you move your body towards his. You rake your eyes down his body, settling on his waist.

Before you can make another move Shotaro’s hands go to your shoulders, keeping you in place. You move to sit on your knees and look up at him. From down here you can’t help but bat your eyelashes.

“I won’t hesitate to stop.” Shotaro says sternly.

Your lie of doing all the work becomes null and void in an instant. The commanding look in Shotaro’s voice takes away all your authority, the even tone in his voice makes it impossible for you to speak. All you can do is nod and swallow thickly, putting everything in his hands. So you sit on the bed completely still. You’re all eyes and parted lips as you watch Shotaro lower himself until he is eye level with you. You keep your eyes on his face, the only movement is when he rubs your shoulders down to your hands before placing them on his lap.

Shotaro holds his thigh for a second, thinking about what to do next. He smiles at your frazzled expression, like you’re surprised he actually agreed to this. Shotaro thought that he already made it abundantly clear he could never turn you down, to not give you what you want. It was impossible to say no when you looked at him like that.

Shotaro’s fingers wrapped around the ring you gifted him. He sees your eyes dart down to his hands before your tongue darts out to wet your lips. You shift on your legs and part your lips again, already prepared for what Shotaro is going to do next.

When he gets the ring off he brings it to your lips. He watches the metal cause a dimple on your lip as he presses the ring lightly against it. He sees you almost go crosseyed to look at the ring before your shaking pupils focus back on him. Shotaro smiles, finding it hard to be pulled from the sight.

“Hold this for me?” He asks.

You nod, and without hesitation you part your lips even further.

Shotaro gently pushes the ring inside of your mouth, grazing the bottom of your teeth before placing it on your tongue. As Shotaro pulls his fingers from your mouth you greedily close your lips around them. You suck his fingers back into your mouth, the metallic taste of the ring mingling with the taste of him. Shotaro’s hand grazes up your arm and you paw at his forearm, looking for something to hold. You are too focused on the satisfied look in his eyes to actually pay attention at what you’re reaching for, if you’re reaching for anything at all.

When Shotaro is satisfied he presses on the flat part of your tongue. His fingers leave your mouth and a string of spit follows it. You follow closely behind, you lean your body forward in an effort to close the gap.

“It’s okay if you spit it out.” With your tongue you move the ring from your cheek to the center of your mouth. When you nod Shotaro looks behind you on the mattress briefly before moving his other hand to your other shoulder. “Lay down for me.” Shotaro says gently.

You are taken back to the time you almost choked on the ring briefly as Shotaro guides your body backwards. Your body barely makes a sound as it hits the mattress. Shotaro continues to look down at you, his wet fingers caress your cheek and stroke your chin. His fingers go down lower and lower, non-assuming and gentle as his eyes follow the invisible trail. You squirm underneath his touch, and you squirm even more when you realize how intensely he’s staring at your body.

“How do you want it?” Shotaro sounds far away as his fingers continue down your body. You shiver, trying to find the words before he finds them for you. “Or do you want me to decide?” He asks.

“You decide.” You say meekly.

Shotaro starts by lifting your bent leg and putting it in the bend of his arm. You have been in this position with him before. You ignore the habit in your muscles to watch Shotaro build the tension. He guides your calf to rest on his shoulder, then does the same with the other leg as he comes closer to your body. Shotaro bends between your legs and kisses the spot right below your knee as his hand reaches for the bottom of his shirt.

“I’ll take care of you.” Shotaro murmurs.

You already arch your back off the mattress without him doing anything. He can see you’re driven by his words, the need to be taken care of satisfies you to no end. He has half a mind to just repeat the acts of service he did for you when he was your boyfriend. Shotaro was positive you’d be a shaking mess by the end of his long list with a few praises thrown in. But Shotaro finds himself getting excited at the ability to have you in the palm of his hand again. He plans to take his time when he finally sees your bare stomach and the trim of your panties for the first time in God knows how long.

“I know you’ll take care of me.” You lament.

The name you reserved for him in bed was so close to falling from your lips. Shotaro even watched you form the word and the affliction in your tongue to ennunciate the word. He knows its for the better that you cut yourself off, he doesn’t know who he would become if he heard you call him by that name.

He distracts himself from the replays of you crying out the nickname by pushing his hand past the elastic of your underwear. Shotaro’s other hand moves to fondle your chest, alternating between groping and hard palming as a complete contrast from the gentle way he touches your clit.

You already were wet for him, your hole clenched around nothing as Shotaro circled your bundle of nerves. You twitched and let our labored groans, continue to scratch your nails over the fabric of his pants. You don’t know how much longer you can silently give him the hints that you need more. The feeling of his hands groping you and being so close to your slit does anything but satiate you. You’re somehow more wound up than before, you think you might tear through the fabric of Shotaro’s clothes if he keeps you waiting.

“Just one finger.” You say.

Shotaro looks to you and stills the hand in your pants. His eyebrows raise at your order you phrased as a suggestion. When you lift your hips Shotaro slowly starts rubbing your clit again, but even slower than before. His hand that palms your chest grips your supple skin harshly.

He continues this motion, gripping your chest but touching your clit so lightly you might break. His fingers get lower and lower. Shotaro’s smirk is almost evil as he watches you become more and more pent up.

“What about two?” He suggests calmly.

You nod vigorously, your hands dragging on the surface of the bed to try and find stability.

Shotaro harshly flicks your nipple as he finally slides two fingers in. Your walls welcome him quickly, and Shotaro can feel slick gush past his fingers as he pushes them back in slowly. He reluctantly abandons feeling your body up all together to focus his energy on fingering you. He coos at each of your whines, his eyes alternate between your cunt and your face that’s contorted in pleasure.

“You still got my ring?” Shotaro asks.

“Mhm.” You hum.

He sees the sudden protrusion in your cheek and nods. Shotaro continues working his fingers, letting the lewd wet sounds fill his room. When you start lifting your hips Shotaro uses a hand to keep you pinned to his mattress. Your whines of defiance mingle with the whimpers, both sounds egg him on to move his fingers at a faster pace.

Shotaro came impossibly closer to you while he continued driving his fingers into your cunt. His head still hovered above your knees between your legs, placing kisses to either side he deemed fit. You alternated between pushing your hips down and not moving at all, your depleting energy and tunnel vision of an orgasm distracting you. When you let out a particularly weak sound that was close to a sob you felt his attention go to you.

You knew by the way Shotaro’s fingers faltered that he saw your bleary eyes. You wondered if he could see your eyelashes that were clumped together or the fresh tear tracks that were coming down the sides of your face.

“I’m crying because it feels good.” You said, eyes still closed.

Shotaro could tell you were trying to focus, to keep it together. Shotaro saw your shaky exhale rattle your chest and the pout you were fighting back. He saw your hips twitch and he felt your walls contract around his three fingers. When he took them out of you your eyes instantly opened, wide and so sad he felt his heart break. Shotaro knew better, and he knew you knew it too. His hands left your body completely for what felt like an eternity. The ambiguity was almost as cloudy as the lust filled haze that was taking over his mind. Just when a side was about to win Shotaro felt your shaky hands grip his shoulders. He felt you guide his hands to your lower stomach before your other hand pressed his palm flat against your skin. You kept burning eye contact with him as you pressed his hands deeper into you, until your body instinctually writhed against him.

“Feels good?” Shotaro huffed.

He watched your eyebrows furrow as you nodded pitifully. Your hands left his and went back to pinching and pulling at the fabric of his pants.

As Shotaro watched firsthand that he was still person you needed, pride swell in his chest. Your hips came closer and closer to his, even through the discomfort of the stretch from your calves that were resting on his shoulders. Your body language made Shotaro reminisce on all the times he exercised his control; he remembers denying you that euphoria you were hurtling towards moments ago, he remembers only tapping your chin once before you opened your mouth obediently. Shotaro knows that’s what you wanted from him tonight, to worry about nothing else besides taking it. But he was selfishly chasing after something of his own tonight, he needed to touch every piece of you like it was his first and last time.

He continued to indulge himself in you. Each time your calves slipped from his shoulders he took a break from touching your chest to push them back in place. He pressed into your lower stomach as if the tension was materializing into something tangible and teased your nipples until they were pebbles against his hand. He was in such a frenzy fueled by you; your hips, your legs, your chest, your sounds that were becoming louder and louder and your hands that were becoming greedier.

“Shotaro.”

Your meek voice pulled his gaze away from his hands fondling your waist and chest. Shotaro registered your shaking voice and your entire body that was shaking like a leaf. You spoke clearly, determination in your eyes underneath the tears threatening to spill.

“Please fuck me.” You begged.

Shotaro watched you pathetically reach at the button on his pants. He looked at your hand grasping at nothing, the thing you wanted just out of your reach. He reveled in watching you struggle for a moment, a smile blossoming across his face the same time you let out a frustrated whine.

“Shotaro, please.” You repeated.

Finally he pulled away from your legs, sitting back on his ass as he unbuttoned his pants. Shotaro watched you rid yourself of your clothes. You quickly pushed your panties down your legs before kicking them off your ankles, and you propped yourself on your elbows to take off your shirt. He threw his pants off in the same general direction as you threw your clothes, then took his shirt off as he slotted himself between your legs again. His hands went to your ankles, guiding your legs back to their original place on his shoulders. Shotaro stayed focused on your face as he got closer and closer to you, seeing you let out a pensive breath as your legs stretched further.

“You still got it?” Shotaro teased.

Shotaro felt your feet settle in the crook of his neck and watched your hands hold the back of your calves to hold them in place. You nodded quickly, preening your hips to feel Shotaro’s dick press against your ass.

“I’m still flexible.” You answered.

Shotaro stretched you further by reaching down closer to you. He didn’t stop until you drew in a breath and winced. From here he could watch himself in the pitch black reflection of your eyes as he fisted the sheets on either side of you. He started slowly grinding his dick against your heat, satisfied with the slick sounds and the way you wiggled your hips against his. He was teasing himself but to you it felt like torture, having him so close but so far away.

“Please put it in.” You whined.

You watched Shotaro catch his bottom lip between his teeth as he nodded obediently. He looks down between your two bodies, drawing his hips back until his tip prodded your entrance. When he could feel you and you drew in a breath in anticipation he looked back at you. You held eye contact through the haze, you surprisingly held eye contact as Shotaro slowly slid inside of you. The position and the feeling of Shotaro pushed the air out of your lungs. You let out a gasp when his hips kissed yours, a gasp that turned into a heavy moan when he repeated the motion.

He was reeling off the shock on your face, and he felt his entire body tighten when he pushed back into you. Your back arched off the bed and Shotaro moved his hands closer to your body, effectively caging you in. Your head turned at the same time, your closed eyes pointed towards the wall.

“Does this?” Shotaro’s skin slapped against yours and turned your face to look him in the eyes. He got closer to your body, deepening the stretch in your legs. “Does this feel good?” He asked.

You nodded weakly, you lifted your hips in tandem with Shotaro’s quickening thrusts. The angle made him hit that spot deep inside of you, the one that made you moan louder than before and had his vision spotting. You felt so familiar and warm inside, Shotaro felt like he was losing himself again. But despite the euphoria Shotaro held on tight for you, remembering the promise he made to you in the park when you gave him back your things.

“I’m taking care of you?” Shotaro asked.

“You’re taking care of me.” You answered

Your words were cut short when Shotaro gave you a particularly hard thrust. He slid in and out of you with ease, but each time you could feel your walls clamp around his dick in an effort to keep him inside of you. Your walls began spasming without your control. The feeling built up over your body again, you were teetering towards the edge once again.

“I’m close.” You warned as you brought your feet deeper into the crook of Shotaro’s neck.

Shotaro nodded down at you, a groan leaving his lips in place of words as he continued fucking you. You alternated between the damp ends of his hair and the focused look on his face. You could tell he was close like you were, arguably even more close to the edge than you were. But you could feel the devotion he had to taking care of you first. Watching Shotaro shamelessly put your needs before yours had you arching your back off the bed. Everything melted away in that moment, and feeling him move his hand from beside you to touch your face affectionately made tears dot your waterline again.

“I got you.” Shotaro spoke over your moans, gentle and soft despite the violent waves ripping through your body. “Go ahead.” He said.

You couldn’t speak during the fact. Even your moans ceased, the stretch and the intense feeling of Shotaro snug in your walls took away your ability to even form a coherent thought. He reduced you down to your teeth digging into your lip and the death grip you had on your legs. You dug your own fingers into your flesh, the pain only made your orgasm more intense. The more your body seized the more intense everything became. A string of words fell from your lips that only Shotaro seemed to understand; he nodded and cooed at you while his hand starting touching you all over again.

Before you knew it, your body relaxed. Your feet were limp and your legs felt loose, your entire body felt loose as Shotaro’s hips began to falter. You weakly let your hands run down his arms, saying more incoherent babbles as his own eyes started screwing shut. You pulled the ring from your cheek. The wet metal was pressed between your palm and Shotaro's arm.

“Got you.” You said, barely coming back to Earth.

Shotaro waited until he only felt the pulses from aftershock to pull out. His last bit of self control dissipated after seeing your hands paw at your chest. He was fixated on the way your skin peaked between your fingers when he leaned forward to consolidate his release on a small portion of your lower stomach. The sensation of finishing on you felt barbaric, but Shotaro knew he had to atleast attempt to be responsible. Your legs slid from his shoulder as he wrapped his hands around his dick and began pumping quickly. He treated himself harsher than he treated you. This was simply a means to an end, a way to show you that taking care of you was the only fulfillment Shotaro needed.

“Can I?” Shotaro asked quickly, looking to your flushed face as he continued pumping his dick.

At some point you slid the ring onto your finger, the metal band loose around your joint as you held your chest tighter.

Despite being rough with himself, he still felt the relief all the same. Even if it was Shotaro pumping his dick it felt like it was you who was pulling him thin before letting him go completely. Shotaro groaned and dug his fist into the mattress beside your body as he watched you twitch from the sudden warmth on your stomach. He continued going, Shotaro wasn’t sure if he imagined your sounds egging him on, or if it was wishful thinking. He still continued to empty onto your lower stomach while he felt the coil snap in his stomach.

When he regained his senses he lifted his head to look at your stomach. He grimaced at the mess he made on you—a small mess but a mess nonetheless—and wasted no time getting up from the bed. He ignored the look of accomplishment and pure content that rested in your smile when he came back with a wet towel. He had to bite his lip when he got on the bed again to wipe you down. He was slow with the warm towel, taking a quick peak to your face to make sure it wasn’t too hot.

If the towel was scorching hot Shotaro wouldn’t have known. You only watched with a smile on your face and something more complicated in your eyes as you watched him take care of you.

#01zfan: shotaro #shotaro smut #riize smut

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kelcemenow · 10 months ago

Text

Drive Me Crazy - Chapter 5.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 2799

Warnings Swearing, smut...all good stuff!

Huge thank you to the Anon who sent this in! They had such amazing words to say about my writing which I massively appreciate and then to top it off, had an incredible request for me! I only have experience with mechanics in the UK, so I've tried my best with this one! "I just recently got interested in Travis K. X reader stories and wanted to let you know, I read all of yours as quickly as I could. They are so well done and I couldn’t help but laugh/giggle and feel through each word you typed out. You’re doing amazing and I’m so glad to have stumbled onto your page. If you have any space for a request, I’d be curious about what Trav would think about having a military (like fighter pilot) or engineer or mechanic girlfriend. I see a lot of stories with him paired with models/singers/social media individuals (which are phenomenal!) but just wondering how he would be with a more tomboy like girlfriend!"

CHAPTER 4

CHAPTER 5

You spotted Travis in the bar immediately. He had secured one of the secluded booths that ran along the back wall. The bar was dimly lit with numerous candles and deep blue painted walls seemed to enhance the relaxed and cosy atmosphere.

Travis was holding a beer bottle in his large hand, his fingers gently picking at the edge of the label. You wondered for a second if he was nervous, before smiling to yourself.

"Of course he isn't nervous. He does this sort of thing all of the time."

Just as you were about to make your way over to him, his gaze fell on you. He seemed to take a deep breath before his eyes almost disappeared as his mouth moved into a wide grin. He stood up quickly, holding his hand out to warmly greet you. He was dressed casually in a white hoodie and leather jacket, black skinny jeans and comfortable Nike's finishing his look. Your ripped blue jeans and grey sweater seemed to compliment his outfit, and you secretly breathed a sigh a relief.

"Hey."

"Hey." You responded as you took hold of his hand. Travis pulled you closer to him and kissed your cheek lightly, his slightly spicy cologne sticking to you immediately.

You carefully slid into the booth, watching Travis opposite you as he did the same before pushing the second bottle of beer across the table.

"I didn't know what you wanted so I just got you the same as me. I can get you something else though, if you'd prefer." His eyebrows shot up as he craned his neck in search of an available waitress.

You smiled, "Beer is perfect, thank you." Your fingers wiped the cool condensation from the sides of the bottle before picking it up and bringing it to your lips.

Travis kept his eyes on you, watching your every move as you swallowed down the beer. You held your mouth as you nervously laughed a little, almost allowing the beer to escape your lips.

"What?" You said, dabbing the liquid from your mouth with the soft skin on the back of your hand.

Travis smiled and looked down at this hands and he rubbed his palms together, a quiet scratching sound of his slightly calloused skin, "Nothing. I'm just happy you've eventually agreed to go out with me."

"You know, I just said yes so you would stop bugging me." You shrugged, one side of your lips slowly curling upwards.

"It still worked though, didn't it?"

Your cheeks flushed pink as he looked back towards you, one of his glittering eyes winking and rendering you speechless.

"Can I say something?"

You smirked, "Yeah...sure."

Travis leaned in closer to you, resting his elbows against the table, "There's something about you that makes me fall apart."

A heat rose in your face again and he leaned in further, his mouth only inches away from yours.

"I can't stop thinking about our kiss the other night."

"Is this your way of getting another one?" You said in a low whisper, your voice rasping.

Travis grinned and closed the small space between you, his warm lips making contact with yours with a gentle pressure. As your eyelids fluttered closed, you tilted your head to the side and reached out to cradle the side of his face, his stubble prickling against your hand. You could feel him smiling into the kiss, which only spurred you on more, letting your tongue run across his bottom lip and your fingernails drag along his jawline. A fizz of energy rushed through your veins, culminating into a tightness in your core that made you push your thighs together, a throbbing sensation becoming very apparent.

You slowly pulled away from Travis, opening to yours eyes to see that his were still gently closed. His lips were still parted, a short breath escaping them as he eventually looked at you.

"Holy shit." He said with an elated grin, "I could do that all day."

"I'm gonna suggest something..." You started, "...and I don't want you to overthink this or to come up with some skewed opinion of me. But I really just want to head home and fuck you."

Travis immediately widened his eyes, his body leaning back a little.

"You're already overthinking it, I can tell."

He exhaled a laugh, blinking wildly and shaking his head, "Nah, I'm not overthinking it. I just...man, you really know how to make a guy speechless."

You took a long and deep breath, desperately hoping you hadn't been too forward. There was something about Travis that completely relaxed you and made you put your anxious thoughts to one side. You didn't feel the need to be anyone other than yourself in an attempt to please him.

You held your gaze as Travis raised his hand to scratch the back of his neck as his eyes seemed to dart across your features, analysing your expression.

"Take it or leave it, Kelce."

Travis quickly grabbed your hand, "Let's go."

______________________________________________________________

Your fingers rapidly tugged the denim fabric that was covering your lower body as your breaths became more laboured and heavy. A slight grunt left your lips and Travis pulled away from you with narrowed eyebrows.

"You okay?"

You sighed, "Yeah, I just can't get my keys out of my pocket."

Travis chuckled and leaned his body away to allow you better access, "I don't know? Making out against your door is kinda hot?"

"I don't think my neighbours would be too happy." You smirked before glancing across to the grey door not 10 yards away from you, "Although, come to think of it. Frank is a pretty big Chiefs fan, he'd probably be hyped."

After a moment of intense silence, Travis slowly tilted his head and lightly grazed his lips against your neck. Your skin seemed to burn with his touch, a gentle tingle washing over you. As your chest tightened, your fingers found the familiar cool metal and looped themselves around the ring, pulling the keys out with a light jingle. You attempted to turn your body to open your apartment door, but Travis only pushed you further against it, his hands wandering towards your lower back. His solid torso loomed over you and you felt tiny as he seemed to surround you with his large frame.

You felt his grip tighten, his fingers bearing down into your flesh. As you rose up onto your tiptoes, your hands reached for the back of his neck, pulling his mouth onto yours.

He smiled into the kiss as you expertly moved your lips across his. The hallway was silent, the only sound being yours and Travis' heavy breathing. Something inside of your core seemed to coil up, ready to release but you swiftly shifted your body weight and retreated from him, gazing up into his twinkling, mesmeric eyes.

"I think we should go inside." You croaked, your breathlessness causing your voice to crack.

Travis' eyes creased into a wide grin, his hands still gripping your waist. With no hesitation, he spun you around to face to door, eager to get you inside of the apartment. You clung to the keys, unlocking the door quickly and swinging the door open, stepping into the darkness. The familiar sweet scent of your home engulfed you as you reached across to turn on the large lamp positioned in the corner. You glanced over your shoulder, watching as Travis glanced around, taking in his surroundings.

"It's not anything fancy...and I'm not exactly an interior designer or anything." You said with a nervous laugh, as you quickly grabbed some oil stained towels that were piled next to the couch and threw them towards the laundry basket.

Travis smirked, his eyes surveying you, "That shit doesn't matter." He reached out for your hand, drawing you closer to him, "Besides, it's kinda hot that you could probably fix my water heater."

You raised your eyebrows as your hands ran over his chest and shoulders, "Really? Is this some sort of fantasy you never knew you had?"

"Something like that." He reached down, treating your lips to a gentle kiss.

You took a few steps backwards, leading him towards your bedroom, his eyes glinting in the dim light. Once he was in the room, you rotated yourself around, pushing him down onto the bed with a gentle thud. Travis lifted his upper body up with his elbows as he watched you slowly peel your sweater from your body, removing it above your head and throwing it down on the floor. Your fingers ran across your erect nipples that were poking against the soft cotton bralette that you were wearing, the excitement pooling in your stomach at Travis' obvious enjoyment of his view. His mouth had gaped open slightly, his eyes glazed and his chest was beginning to rapidly rise and fall.

"Come here." He whispered.

You tipped your head to one side, "Please?"

"P-please." He stuttered.

You smiled and placed your knees onto the bed, lowering your body and began climbing up his body.

"Fuck." Travis groaned.

As you reached his waist, you noted his growing bulge, his jeans stretching with the movement. Your hand ghosted over the throbbing mound as you bit down on your bottom lip, a sharp pain searing through your skin.

Travis shifted himself on the bed, his desperation visually building to an almost unbearable level. His fists grabbed at your sheets, balling them up in his palms as you rose to your feet again. With a slight smirk, you spun around and lowered your jeans, stepping out of them slowly and allowing Travis to gaze at your ass for a moment.

You heard his breath shake and his body move again on the bed, the sheets brushing against each other. You glanced over your shoulder and threw Travis a wink, your mouth quickly moving into a smile.

He sat straight up, his hands reaching out for you, "I need to touch you."

Your stomach fluttered immediately at his words and you obeyed him, straddling his lap and bringing your hands to the back of his head, your fingers stroking the short stubble that peppered his skin. His arms coiled around your waist and pulled you closer to him, his warm breath tickling your neck. The pressure in your core was building and as if Travis was aware, you felt his hips begin to roll underneath you. You reciprocated, grinding yourself against the hard mass in his jeans, a small moan freeing from his lips.

Suddenly, he arose from the bed, holding you up in his strong grasp. He spun you around and laid you onto the mattress, his hands running down your splayed legs. The pace of your breathing quickened as you watched him remove his jacket and hoodie, revealing his hair covered and toned chest. He kept full eye contact, intense and feverish, as he reached for his belt and pulled the leather away from his jeans at an agonisingly slow speed. Your bottom lip quivered in anticipation and you couldn't tear your eyes away from him once his hands released his engorged erection, a small bead of precum glistening against the tip.

Your jaw fell open at his sheer size, his swift movement towards you causing it to bounce slightly. You looked up into his gaze again as he loomed over your body, his mouth connecting to yours with an urgent pressure. His tongue danced against yours, your muscles trembling with ecstasy.

"Seriously you're going to make me cum...and you've barely done anything yet." You gasped.

Travis hummed against your mouth, pulling away to beam down at you, his eyes creasing with his wide smile.

"You're in for a whole lot of trouble then."

Without warning, he reached for your underwear and pulled them down your legs, before unclasping your bralette and tossing it aside. His eyes fell upon your breasts, hazing over as he took in the sight before him. You felt your clit begin to throb as he leaned down and took your right nipple in his mouth, his tongue rolling over the sensitive skin. Your hands brushed against the soft skin of his hips, guiding him in-between your legs. The throbbing intensified as his cock made contact with your slick folds.

Travis responded by moving his hips back and forth, causing your eyes to roll back into your head. Something tightened inside of you and Travis watched your face contort with delight.

"That's it, baby girl."

His low, gruff voice combined with a nickname that you never knew you wanted to hear was enough to make you completely lose control and you screamed out in pleasure as you felt yourself release. Travis glanced down in-between your bodies to see his cock shining with your wetness.

He smiled as he moved his lips closer to your ear, "You need a break?"

You silently shook your head, your eyebrows raised in suspense.

"Good."

He quickly lifted one of your legs and held it firmly in the crook of his elbow, thrusting his dick inside of you until you were completely full. Your face winced slightly as your walls adjusted to his enormous size. His head was tilted back and his mouth wide open, short breaths pushing out of his lungs. Your fingers dug into his arms, leaving red marks in their wake. Travis tentatively moved his hips backwards, enjoying the feeling of your pussy before looking down to watch himself slowly begin to shift in and out of you. His eyebrows lowered with concentration and you stretched your arms to reach for his face, bringing his eyes to meet yours.

He clenched his jaw as his speed increased, tears beginning to form in your eyes. You whined loudly in response to the growing second orgasm in your abdomen, the sensation spreading across your body. Travis held up with impressive stamina, his athleticism showing as he grunted with every thrust.

You gasped for breath, the sound of your bedframe slamming against the wall ringing in your ears. You were sure you were close to another orgasm but Travis noticed a change in your facial expression and responded by pulling out of you, holding onto your body and flipping you over onto your front.

Before you had a chance to realise what had happened, his hands were gripping onto your thighs and his tongue plunged deep into your pussy. The stubble on his cheeks pressed against your sensitive area and you pushed your face into a pillow, screaming into the soft material. He lapped at your folds, letting the tip of his wet tongue graze against your clit and dragging it up and towards your puckered hole. Your muscles twitched as you clamped your teeth down to stop yourself from wailing any louder. Travis removed his tongue and quickly replaced it with his solid dick again, loud slaps filling the room.

Travis' hands found their way into your hair and a sharp tug on your strands was enough to cause you to release once again. You squealed through your orgasm as Travis continued to thrust with force. He released your hair from his grasp and moved his large hands to hold onto your waist, allowing him to have better control of his motions. You struggled to hold your body up, your muscles weakening through your orgasm but Travis held onto you tightly, his own release growing.

With a sudden and short drive, Travis' hips snapped forward. You heard a loud and wet sound as your cum gushed out and onto your skins. Travis' muscles tightened and his hips juddered as he released into you, long sighs echoing into the room.

"Fuck." He exhaled.

Your upper body collapsed onto the bed, "Yeah, fuck."

Travis carefully pulled himself out of you and reached across to grab a tissue from your nightstand, gently cleaning you up before successfully tossing the tissue into the trashcan. You rolled over onto your back, tugging the comforter towards your body as the cool night air tickled your skin. Travis laid next to you, his rough fingers softly tracing the contours of your face.

Your breathing slowed to a normal pace as you looked deep into Travis' eyes, "This is crazy." You said, as you shook your head.

"Crazy good though, right?" He replied, with a smirk.

You nodded, puckering your lips in a request for a kiss when a loud knock disturbed your from your bliss.

You lowered your eyebrows and lifted your head to look through your bedroom doorway towards the entrance of your home. Travis studied your puzzled expression before turning his head towards the door when another knock resounded.

"Y/N, it's Jordan." A low voice said on the other side of the door.

"Jordan?" You whispered.

"Open the door."

______________________________________________________________

I'm so sorry this has taken so long but I took some time off over Christmas and then it got super crazy with work so I spent a lot of my spare time relaxing and not writing! Here it is, another chapter of my current series and I hope you all enjoy it and it was worth the wait! If you want to be included in my Taglist, just let me know!!

Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles @macey234 @s294749w @kelcemesoftly @calirindo @livinginmyfantasies @bernelflo @secretmywritingfictionlawyer @killatravtramp @there-goes-thefighter @unicornblueberry @calirindo @tjkelce87 @kristinamae093 @kmc1989 @ajbird18 @triski73 @ctn26 @kgcaputo07 @abby-splace @bobthe-turmpetman29 @cedricbitch @abby-splace @jmamas92 @bellstwd @killatravsworld @marchmaiden @chimchimmarie @blackstabbath6 @fanficfanatic15 @jessiemariebarnes @mmb219 @vanwritesfan-fiction @futebollover @ks-dreams-fantasies @laurenmcucm @blackstabbath6

#travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine #kelce x reader #nfl imagine #original story #travis kelce fic #travis kelce #travis kelce fluff #nfl fluff #travis kelce smut #travis kelce angst #nfl smut #nfl angst #nfl fic #kelcemenow requests

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luxudus · 11 months ago

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The Six Lords of Ko-ve-dor, and an introduction to my friend's project Star Odyssey

One last art piece to end the year on a high note. It's an entry @jennywolfgal's sophont in her sci-fi / spec-evo / worldbuilding project Star odyssey. A far future where humanity and a few other advanced species help to found a Galactic Coalition of Worlds spanning half the galaxy. Everyone go follow her and check out her project!

I genuinley consider this atm my magnum opus in every aspect, Linework, Texturing, Coloring, Composition, and ESPECIALLY rendering.

The Commonality of Ko-ve-dor is an alliance between multiple sophont species evolving side by side on the same planet. All working together towards the prosperity for all denizens of the known galaxy.

Planet Ko-ve-dor, also known as Kepler-442 B, is a super earth in a 3 planet star system all orbiting a K-Type main sequence star known as O-uosa. Ko-Ve-Dor’s higher mass, larger magnetosphere, denser atmosphere, 3 moons, larger continents and O-uosa’s longer lifespan make Ko-ve-dor a superhabitable world. Capable of hosting more biodiversity than our own earth for a far longer time.

Plantlife on Ko-Ve-Dor is just as complex as it’s animal life and it shows. Most terrestrial flora possess a segmented exoskeleton that vary in shape and size akin to an insect. Most forms of plantlife exhibit both radial and bilateral symmetry in their overall body plan. Some species of Ko-ve-dor plantlife can even take in their surroundings with special segments that act as one big sensory organ. And aside from some greenish phytoplankton, most flora on this world take on a red pigmentation to make the most out of its star’s dimmer light.

Not only is Ko-ve-dor more biodiverse than earth. But it’s greater abundance of life and more surface area means there's far more consumable biomass too. Allowing it’s animal life to reach greater heights and the option for greater brainpower. This paired with evolution’s trend towards more socialization. Means that sapient life has developed not once, or twice. But six times, all within a similar enough time frame for them to all interact with one another. As each sophont species is a good representative of Ko-ve-dor’s kingdom of life. We will be skipping over the planet’s animal life to discuss their biology. The Dor-Eø are the largest of the six sophonts and represent the planet’s many soft-bodied invertebrates. They take on a body plan very similar to earth’s flatworms. And being filter-feeders, they fill a niche not too different from whales. Their large carpet-like fins are actually enlarged partially external gills to aid in respiration. And they manipulate their environment with their two mitten shaped mandibles and opposable tusk thumbs. They live in tight-knit nomadic pods where they ride the waves in search of plankton. They hunt said plankton like dolphins, continuously switching roles to either shepard the plankton and strike the condensed schools. And as they achieved sapience they’ve built nets to catch more plankton and dorsal fin flags to distinguish which pod they’re apart of. The Dor-Ssri’ii represent a sapient species of aquatic, radially symmetrical fish analogs. They possess twelve eyes, with three on each side, a four sided jaw, and eight fins, four anterior fins and four posterior fins. Their intricate color palette helps them blend in with the yellow and red reefs. They live in borderline eusocial schools where they manipulate their environment through their mouth like a tuskfish

The Ko-Ka’Kta are terrestrial relatives of the Dor-Ssri’cai, these are a sapient species of para-reptilian pack hunters native to the deserts and shrublands of Ko-ve-dor. They retain their radial symmetry and are quite basal compared to their relatives. Their forearms have atrophied into small rudders used by females to attract mates and live in matriarchal packs. And they manipulate their environment with four highly specialized tongues. Their lack of claws or fangs pushed them to crafting an array of weapons to hunt. That and their hierarchical pack structure paved way for sapience The Ko-A’atur represent the most derived group of Ko-ve-dor’s Vertebrates. Descending from a group that forgone their radial symmetry and became secondarily bilateral. Their heads hyper-elongated to the point where it’s now two separate body parts all together. Their lips have pulled back and became large flaps to cool off and express emotions. Of all the sophonts they live the least socially, They forage and occasionally hunt in groups of 3-5 individuals. But the social bonds formed are so tight and complex that it managed to bring them up to sapience. Onto life in the sky. The Ve-Huik are one of two representatives of Ko-ve-dor’s aerial invertebrates. They are a species of hexapodal invertebrate flyers protected by a sturdy exoskeleton. They fill a niche similar to parrots, capable of crushing nuts and fruits with their large mandibles that clench together like a fist. They live in small flocks and communicate by short whistles and hums. And they manipulate their environment with their remarkably dexterous six legs.

And lastly the Ve-Z’qi, a Is a seafaring relative to the Ve-huik, they are a sapient species of flying arthropod analogs native to the many coastlines of Dorveko. They live in nomadic flocks, hopping from island to island. They hunt their aquatic prey by looking for disturbances in the water before diving in to catch their target Their history is one defined by sheer first contact and a long road to equality. The Dor-Eø and the Ve-Z'qi,a were the pioneers of exploration due in part of their nomadic lifestyles giving them a global range to freely explore. Slowly each species would suddenly learn the existence of their contemporaries and how to work with them. Their society is egalitarian and very xenophilic, each species is born with full citizenship and everyone regardless of origin and identity are treated truly equally. yet their government is surprisingly autocratic. Each planet is ruled by a handfull of philosopher kings and queens who come from all walks of life. And are chosen by the state based on their view of life and understanding of the humanities. All to improve the lives of their people. They are also very welcoming towards outsiders, and have made themselves a beacon of liberty and safety for the galaxy's downtrodded. With so many different sapient minds at work in a society that promotes harmony and teamwork. The Ko-ve-dor Commonality has advanced rapidly, being able to become a spacefaring civilization a thousand years before mankind. Their architecture and spaceships are large and bulbous, containing vast aquariums and spacious domes to accommodate all the different lifestyles. And have become one of the Galactic Coalition of Worlds' most important members. Depicted here is a human diplomat posing with a friend group eager to take a photo with an unfamiliar face.

I'm happy i managed to get this out before 2024, though there still maybe work to be done, mainly to expand on their worldbuilding, and i hope everyone else has a happy new year!

#my art #artist on tumblr #art #speculative biology #worldbuilding #alien species #speculative zoology #xenobiology #Jennywolfgal's Star-Odyssey

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livingforstars · 7 months ago

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A Spiral Galaxy Gallery - April 9th, 1996.

"A progression of beautiful spiral galaxies is illustrated above with three photographs from NASA's Ultraviolet Imaging Telescope (UIT). Flying above the Earth's obscuring layer of atmosphere on the Space Shuttle Columbia during the Astro-1 mission in 1990, UIT's cameras were able to image these distant spirals in the ultraviolet light produced by hot, young stars. These bright stars, newly condensed from gas and dust clouds, give away the location of the spiral arms they are born in. Because they are massive (many times the mass of the Sun), they are shortlived. Dying and fading before they move too far from their birth place, they make excellent tracers of spiral structure. From left to right the galaxies are known as M33, M74, and M81, and have progressively more tightly wound spiral arms. Astronomers would classify these as Scd, Sc, and Sb type spirals using a galaxy classification scheme first worked out by Edwin Hubble."

#nasa #space #cosmos #universe #astronomy #astrophysics #astrophotography #spiral galaxy

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beautifulmars · 3 months ago

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Frosted Gully Slopes in Shadows

At first glance, this image looks like a mistake because the gullies of interest are entirely hidden in a large shadow filling most of the crater. At this latitude, gullies preferentially form on pole-facing slopes, but these slopes are in shadow during northern spring and summer.

This image was acquired just after the northern winter solstice, when Southern Hemisphere shadows are longest. However, the fine dust in the Martian atmosphere scatters light into the shadows, and HiRISE has the sensitivity to acquire useful images within shadows.

The bluish areas are covered by seasonal carbon dioxide frost. In fact, this frost is key to forming the gullies. A good deal of carbon dioxide condenses in the shallow subsurface, and when it warms up in the late winter, it produces pressurized gas. When this gas escapes it fluidizes loose rocky materials on these steep slopes forming debris flows.

Initially this was considered a type of secondary activity, but we now realize that this activity can fully explain the formation of the fresh-looking gullies on Mars. The HiRISE team monitors sites such as this through the winter to better understand the actively-forming gullies. (Enhanced color cutout is less than 1 km across.)

ID: ESP_044327_1375 date: 10 January 2016 altitude: 249 km

NASA/JPL-Caltech/University of Arizona

#mars #nasa #science #geology #landscape #astronomy #universityofarizona

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koboldfactory · 2 months ago

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so i would like to ask about how magic is powered and works in your world.

like, how it works, how minds interact with magic, and what is the fundamental "mana" making magic up, if there is just one type?

Magic comes from 3 main sources in my world

1 - the ambient energy filling the atmosphere as a result of The Rift Star pouring out of the earth’s core (this is basically Mana)

2 - condensed elemental energy crystals that appeared suddenly thousands of years ago

3 - harnessing the power of one’s own soul

runes and spell circles can be used to harness and modify these energies into refined and complex magics. Runes in my setting resemble circuits to a degree combined with symbols that represent universal concepts, why these symbols function and who gave them meaning remain mysteries lost to time.

Also magic cannot be cast without a catalyst or runes. Forming complex spells out of thin air is considered the domain of the gods. You can like strike a magic crystal and make it explode but you’re not gonna cast “precise lightning strike blizzard attack III” doing that, nor can you “blows up pancakes with mind” either.

Potions can also be made with magic through the use of runes and mixing elemental crystals with the ingredients.

#koboldasks #koboldfactory lore

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ficthots · 8 months ago

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Bonded: Chapter Six

A/N: Hello everyone! My absence has ended and I am back writing once more. I've missed you all and I hope this makes up for it. Please remember, this is a hobby and sometimes life overtakes hobby time. Luckily, things have seemed to even out for the time being. As always, enjoy and let me know what you think!

Word count: 5.2k+

Chapter Five

Weather holds more power than most people will ever realize. A planet’s atmosphere has wondrous effects on the life below which is why with each planet you travel to, you will experience a climate you never have before. It was one of the first things you noticed on this galaxy trek.

How one day you can look up and see the crystal skies beaming back down at you, offering immaculate views of the horizon far off in the distance. Yet, landing on another planet just the following cycle, storms wreak havoc over the innocent civilians down below unleashing a fury that blows eyes wide open in surprise and fear.

Demolishing anything that stands in its way, altering life as you knew it right before your very eyes. Watching as lives are ruined, some spared, others continue as before with little to no change.

Packing for such weather was difficult to do. Hence why nearly your entire wardrobe had been brought with you on this trip. As your cruiser descended on a tiny spec in the sector, the humidity pummeled you immediately. The condensation formed on the windows as a repulsive greeting and then dripped downwards towards the forever soggy ground.

A small sigh escaped your mouth as you knew how uncomfortable this short day was about to become. This wasn’t even a planet on your list. A courtesy stop if you will. An unplanned detour that you knew would only last the afternoon and early evening before continuing on with your actual planned route.

“I can only imagine what sort of creatures thrive in this type of environment,” Calista murmured with her nose almost pressed flush to the glass. Briefly looking up from your notepad you watched as Tamsyn began preparing for landing.

Only humming in response, there wasn’t much enthusiasm in your reply. You were exhausted. Having been traveling for nearly two entire months, your journey was finally nearing the end. Another week and you would be back home.

Home.

It was odd to think of the ship in that way, but that was what it was. Home. A sense of longing to go back to it, sleep in your bed, see Kylo. You couldn’t believe that you missed him.

Your eyes drifted to the string on your wrist. A gift before your original departure. A safety measure. A token of thought. That you were occupying his thoughts just as much as he was yours. As your thoughts descend into him, the rough landing of the ship jolted you out of your little world.

Tucking the bracelet under your thin gauzy sleeve, you stood as the ships door opened, allowing you to step into the jungle terrain. This was their opportunity to sell themselves to the Order. Explain how they could be of use. With what you could see, it wasn’t much.

Yet as you walked down towards the small gathered crowd to greet you, they were all beaming with enthusiasm to see you, the Empress, actually here visiting. Tamsyn and Calista were hot on your heels, your personal guard so close the armor he adorned nearly pressed into your side.

A precaution courtesy of Kylo and General Waylan. One you didn’t believe was necessary, but your own thoughts fell onto deaf ears. You weren’t even offered his name. No indication about who he really was.

He was just…there. All of the time. A shadow stapled to your own. When you moved, so did he. He was in charge of all the safety measures in regards to this trip. And he was certainly displeased to discover you made a decision to stop on this desolate crater without informing him earlier.

The leader stepped forward enthusiastically, his robes trailing on the moss ridden steps he descended to reach you. “Empress, we are beyond honored to welcome you here. Thank you for taking the time to join us.” As your eyes settled on the thin man, you nearly fell backwards. The striking resemblance had you hesitating to utter your own greeting.

An immediate cold sweat erupted over your body. The man looked eerily similar to the one who had lost his head at the gala. The gruesome memory flashed in your mind as you watched the lifeless eyes stare at you. Courtesy of your husband, but almost as fast as it hit you, the feeling faded. Almost as if he disguised himself when he saw your discomfort with his appearance. Those fully black eyes now had irises, the color still coal, but some ivory peeked out.

Perhaps your mind was playing tricks on you, you thought to yourself.

As he spoke, he clasped your hand within his own and brought it to his grayed forehead. There was something different about them as you took in the odd faces of the civilians. All looked different than each other, but it was as if they weren’t entirely real. A mask over their true selves. You weren’t entirely sure. But your guard was immediately up.

For being in such a bright and warm environment you couldn’t help but fight the chill that shot up your spine from the ice cold grasp he had. Their eyes almost one solid color, bordering on black, but not quite fully gone. They all appeared grey, no hint of color anywhere on their forms. The palace behind them appeared desolate.

The stark green vines enclosed around the sandstone brick that was almost completely gone beneath the never ending greenery. The varying creatures and animals chirped through the forest, cocooning the group in a symphony of songs. Not one of comfort, but one of warning.

A warning you ignored to heed.

Your hackles were raised without so much as a second thought. “It is our pleasure, Monton. I hope you don’t mind the short visit. We don’t have much time together, but I am looking forward to getting to know you and your people more intimately.” His smile stretched across his taut skin, making him appear less human as he did. Your pleasantries second nature to you despite the overwhelming sense of dread filling each of your senses.

A few hours was all you needed to muster through. Then back to the scheduled trip. You echoed that lifeline in your mind over and over to keep your nerves rested.

Stepping to the side, he gestured towards the ancient building. “Shall we?” Nodding in reply, you turned toward your guard. “We won’t be long, if we need assistance I will call.” His helmeted head only bowed before turning on his heel and ascending the stairs back aboard the ship.

You prayed you wouldn’t need his assistance. A few hours.

Tamsyn and Calista trailed behind you, not interested in any of the information this man was offering. Yet, they did not seem the least bit put off by their odd appearances or behaviors. It ran through your mind that you were being overly cautious. His similarities to the man from the gala had knocked you off your game, but no one seemed to pay that any mind.

You were hardly listening either. The entire time he spoke your thoughts were occupied with what rubbed into your wrist. The bracelet so delicately clasped around your skin felt as though it was burning an indentation, leaving its permanent trace behind in its remembrance.

“Your presence has been requested by the Supreme Leader, Empress.” You were sat in your living quarter, the final details of your galaxy journey had been finalized that afternoon and you were beyond spent. Pulling yourself up from the comfortable cushion, you followed the Order official to wherever they were leading you.

When you arrived at a section of the ship you didn’t recognize, you spoke. “Where is the Supreme Leader?” He stopped walking as he approached to extremely large doors that were monitored by three different entry systems. “Supreme Leader Ren's quarters, Empress.” He turned towards you with a subtle bow before turning and leaving you standing alone in the darkened corner.

You could recall the doors from your private tour with Kylo, but you had been brought an entirely different way and didn’t recognize where you were.

Not sure what you were supposed to do, you walked towards the different identification panels and attempted to solve how to enter. You weren’t entirely certain how long you were stood there, but when the door receded into the walls with a loud whoosh accompanying, you jumped up.

There he stood, helmet removed, gaze immediately pinned to you. “What are you doing?” He spoke, not a crack of emotion on his face, voice the standard deep monotone you were accustomed to. “Um, they said you requested me. I couldn’t figure out the door,” you nervously responded.

A slight tilt to the corner of his mouth was all you received as he returned inside. “Come with me.” You followed a few steps behind him. Eyes darting around to the new sights, the smell of him wafting over you entirely. It was incredibly neat, like no one had ever resided there.

The dark furniture was exactly what you expected. Everything drenched in reds and blacks, his signature colors of course. Almost cliche, you giggled to yourself. The sound alerted him, causing him to turn and face you to see what had you laughing. “What?”

Only shrugging you were still smiling. “Nothing. Just that your quarters are exactly what I expected. The blacks and reds, you know?” Your fit of giggles continued as he eyed you, eyes narrowing in your direction, a slight tilt to his head. Faded remnants of a smile graces his plush lips for only a mere second.

His head dropped, a small box sitting on the corner of a table. “Come here.” You immediately followed his orders, walking towards him and closing the distance. Knowing better than to try and battle him, you were nearly flush against him.

Grasping your wrist with his bare hand, electricity jolted through you. You despised when that would happen. Unable to hide the effect his simple touch had on you. This had been happening more and more. The more time you two spent together, which was occurring much more frequently, it only riled you up more.

His touch was incredibly delicate, the long and nimble fingers worked quickly and effortlessly. It was gone as fast as it had appeared. A slight twinge of sadness nestled in your stomach at the loss of contact. Your eyes never left the new addition on your arm.

It was simple, just a black string with a fabric you were not sure of, a small gemstone sitting squarely in the middle. A glow cast out around the unidentified stone, sitting on your skin. Eyes finally peeling away, you cast your gaze upwards to see his features already studying your own.

He never faltered despite the close quarters you two were currently in. “Specially made by request of myself.” Your brow furrowed in question, looking back down at it. “It’s a beautiful bracelet, Kylo. Thank you.” Offering a genuine smile, you felt warm.

Kylo had specifically gotten something made for you. Gifted to you by Kylo himself. You couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit more…special. That he was going out of his way to please you, bring a small sense of joy. Even if it was a stretch to anything more than him trying to appease you.

“This is for…my piece of mind while you’re gone, dove. If you are in danger, I can only use the Force to communicate with you when I feel the need to. I cannot always sense if something is wrong. I’m still attempting to sort out what this bond means and how to use it. For now, this will do.” His hand cupped your wrist once more, his thumb hovering over the gem.

Clearing his throat he continued. “You press this gem down and to the right. It will immediately track your location and notify me that you are not well. Promise me you’ll wear this the entire time you’re gone, dove?” The gentle tone in his voice had butterflies erupting in your stomach as he spoke so plainly with you.

A knot formed in your throat, but you nodded eagerly. “Of course. Thank you for this. So, just down,” he nodded, his hair lightly falling forward at his motion. “Down and to the right.” You smiled at the demonstration and peered back up at him.

Holding eye contact for the following few seconds was the most intense interaction you two had yet. Peering into one another, it was almost like you were able to communicate with him through look alone. A silent heartfelt thank you for caring about my safety. A glimmer of an unknown emotion first registered in his eyes, then his entire face, before fading.

Admiration? Joy? Something you didn’t quite know how to label because, well, it was Kylo. He only ever showed two emotions. Rage and annoyance. Nothing more, nothing less. A side to him that no one else ever got to see. Reserved solely for you. In these private moments.

Pride bubbled in you at the knowledge that no one else in the entire galaxy saw Kylo in states like this. His hardened facade broken. Not without great effort on your end. In fact, it had been painstaking work for months on end.

After Kylo request to attempt a new beginning with you, you decided to agree to his offer. Whatever that meant for him. After the first couple of days and no changes, no sightings of him, you reached out.

An invitation to accompany you at dinner that evening in your quarters. No response had been given and you were quickly losing hope that anything was going to change, an empty guarantee from him. Then, just as the table had finished being set and you were notified that dinner would be served as soon as you were ready, he entered your quarters.

Not able to fight against the smile that took shape on your face, Kylo looked extremely awkward. Unsure what he was supposed to be doing. Yet, attempting to make the effort. Even though it was almost pitiful to see his obvious discomfort.

Deciding to take the lead for the night, you welcomed him in. You weren’t quite sure of yourself enough to try anything physical like a hug, but you lead him into the dining room. Sitting at opposite ends of the table, you mainly ate in silence.

But he was there and that was a victory all in itself.

You didn’t ask him back the following evening, but he came back anyways. And nearly every night since then. Unless he was gone on a mission, it was almost a grantee that Kylo would be at your dining room table, enjoying a dinner with you.

As these meals happened more frequently so did the conversation. At first, extremely basic and generic, testing the waters to see how well you two could communicate. It didn’t take much time for you to warm up to him enough that you were constantly sharing stories of your childhood, upbringing as a royal, funny experiences you had since joining the Order as their Empress.

Kylo pitched in with conversation despite choosing to let you fill the void of his lack of words a majority of the time. Even cracking smiles, his eyes and features more life like and softened with happiness. You know you had made great progress when you got a laugh out of him for the very first time.

It had been like striking gold. A melody of tone you had never heard and weren’t sure you would ever again. Such a beautiful sound you never wanted to forget it, never wanted it to end.

The following night he had arrived at your quarters for dinner, you eyed the table set up. Grabbing your plates and utensils, you ushered yourself down to his end of the table, sitting on his left side just like at the meeting tables. His eyes watched your movements daringly, unsure of what exactly you were doing.

But when you seated yourself and gave him a large smile, he felt an almost sense of…relief. Having you choose to be so close to him. Something no one had ever done. Dinner carried on like nothing had changed.

The new behaviors of the infamous Kylo Ren had started to bleed out into other aspects of your relationship as well, including professional. One afternoon, you two walked the corridors of the ship together, chatting about your upcoming travel plans, when his hand landed on your hip, pulling you away from a wall of storm troopers rounding the same corner. His hand firmly pulled you into his side, his helmeted demeanor seething at the group. “Watch your movements.”

Instant apologies to Kylo and you were spoken. Your heart rate never went back to normal after that. At one supper, Kylo had asked you if you had ever flown a ship. He was instantly taken aback at your response of no. “When I return from this mission I will be teaching you how to pilot a ship.” You were giddy for his return, counting down the cycles until we was due back home. Unable to contain your excitement when Kylo had entered your quarters for dinner, you crossed the room and embraced him. A warm smile greeted him in accompaniment despite his entire body stiffening the way it did.

It didn’t phase you in the least. Speaking about how you had missed his presence at dinner. His cheeks warmed to a pink hue at the terms of endearment. He spoke, clearing the waver in his voice as he did. “I’m taking you flying tomorrow.”

The following day had been the best you two had ever spent together. That morning, Kylo appeared at your door and you followed him. What was supposed to be just a flying lesson turned into an entire formal tour of his section of the ship. He showed you where his training facilities were, where the Knights of Ren were located, the entry to his residence. You didn’t enter, but at least you now knew where he was located at.

The tour wrapped at the massive bay of ships in the hanger. You were nearly jumping for joy when you knew what was next. Wandering eyes monitored the two of you as Kylo led you towards the ships. A duo that was unanticipated. The Kylo Ren watching as the Empress of the First Order looked like an excited school girl.

You truly didn’t care. As you approached one of the ships on the fleet, you turned and beamed at Kylo. “This one, right?” He shook his head, motioning for you to follow him. Stopping in your tracks, your jaw hung ajar.

“You’re going to let me fly your ship?” The smirk that danced across his mouth had your heart doing somersaults. A squeal escaped your lips, rushing towards the tall man and crushing him to you in a hug. Your arms wrapped around his neck, feeling the soft locks of his raven black hair tickle you, your cheek pressed against his neck. It ended as quickly as it had happened. You didn’t look at his reaction before quickly climbing aboard the Supreme Leaders personal ship.

With only one seat in the cockpit, you weren’t sure how this was going to work for you to learn. Kylo followed you in and within a minute was situated in the pilots seat securely. Standing off to the side, you were about to ask where you were supposed to sit when his arm wrapped around your waist.

Grabbing you from behind, he dragged you effortlessly to his lap. You were in a fit of giggles at the fast motion. Adjusting yourself to sit comfortably for however long you two were about to fly, you were ecstatic to get on with your lesson.

Both of Kylo's arms came from the sides, caging you in as he grasped the controls and swiftly left the hangar. Despite thinking you were going to be taking up too much of his space and view, he flew the ship like it was nothing.

He was silent behind you despite your constant chatter and observations of the planets that flew by. As you two settled on a desolate planet, you were ready to begin. His warm breath fanned across your cheek and neck as he spoke, goosebumps erupting over your entire body.

Fighting the chill that shot up your spine, the slight tremble in your hands you were able to play off. “I’m nervous,” you chuckled, rubbing your hands across your pants. “It’s simple. Here,” he lifted your hands to grab the controls, his sitting over your own.

Given the nature of his sheer size in comparison to your own, you could hardly see your own flesh beneath his own. “Alright dove, you always want to make sure that these lights are on,” Kylo fell into his detailed explanation of the control panel and what each thing meant.

You weren’t sure you could place the exact moment he called you dove for the first time, the term of endearment awarded to you by friends and family, but it was almost second nature to him now. Mainly using it instead of your name or your titles.

It sounded different coming from him. Felt different. Like you only wanted him to use it. Holding a different meaning than everyone elses uses. You adored it. Waited for it to fall from his lips with baited breath each time. Knocking the wind out of you with each muttered dove.

It was safe to say that the flying lesson had not gone well. Apparently it was more of a natural talent activity than you realized. After nearly driving it straight into the ground, you erupted in laughter.

Kylo held onto the controls as you lost control of your laughter. He chuckled smally to himself. “Alright, we’re done for today. I don’t need you destroying the best ship in the fleet.” As your chuckles faded, still seated firmly in his lap, you smiled widely at him.

“Thank you for today. It was a lot of fun,” without so much as a second thought, you leaned in, hand cupping his jaw and turning his head towards you. It nearly happened in slow motion, that first kiss. Feeling the soft, tender flesh of his lips meld to your own. The shock waves that exploded over your body was unlike anything you had ever experienced. You never wanted to stop. But you did and when you pulled back and opened your eyes, you watched as his grip tightened on the controls, you smiled to yourself.

He cleared his throat, refusing to look at you. “You’re welcome.” Kylo left the next day for a mission that he desperately needed. Some space from you so he could catch his breath, readjust his bearings, figure out what was happening between you two. Why he wanted to be sitting at a dining room table with you instead of making progress that he needed to make.

Why he was dreading your trip. That he wouldn’t be near you for so long, unable to do anything to protect you while you were so far. He had his own copy of your schedule, but that wasn’t enough.

Instead, he assigned one of the highest regarded troopers to be your personal guard through the duration of the trip. One he knew you wouldn’t accept unless it came from someone other than himself. Waylan quickly agreed and you accepted with little word otherwise.

Perhaps he was slightly obsessed. Which is why he constructed the bracelet on his own. Something that would allow him direct access to you should you need him. Not that he wanted to bother you, but he still didn’t know the limit of the bond you two shared. Wanting nothing more than your protection covered while away from him.

Seeing your reaction to it as he placed it on you was a relief. Seeing that you seemed more sure of yourself wearing it. Knowing that you could contact Kylo as quickly as possible. A slight weight off your shoulders.

If only you knew what was in store for you.

The tour had dragged for so long and was so dull, you had sent Tamsyn back to the ship to prepare for your departure. The stories shared with you were sending alarm bells tolling your head. Far too similar to the mans from the gala to be purely coincidental. You knew at that moment why they had wanted you to come here.

When you had returned back to the palace you began to take note of some alarming things. Guards blocking each doorway and nearly every window, being led further and further through the maze of doorways and twisting hallways, the men that were directly behind you and Calista were seemingly moving closer and closer.

You knew something was seriously wrong when you entered what appeared to be a drawing room with no furniture present in it. Offering as polite of a smile and interruption you could, you spoke. “Would you mind allowing myself and my lady speak privately for a moment?”

The king nodded, ushering his men out with him, one last eye locking glance in your direction before shutting a door. You wasted no time, whipping around to face her, fumbling to unclasp the bracelet.

“I need you to listen to me very carefully, Calista. I need you to remember every thing I’m about to tell you.” She looked bewildered as you began to speak quickly. “You are going to leave this room as soon as I am done talking,” as the bracelet fell off, you cupped it. “You are going to board the transport and tell the pilot to not, I repeat, not go to the next destination.”

Calista had no idea what was happening. “What are you talking-” you cut her off. “Calista, please we don’t have a lot of time. They are going to be back any minute. These are the same people from the gala just with some sort of disguise on. They are going to attempt to track the transport which is why you are not to go to the next destination.” Her eyes quickly began welling with tears.

Stuffing the bracelet into her palm, you forcibly closed her hand around it. “You are going to get as far away from here as possible. An unknown world or moon or something, okay? As soon as you get there the Order will have already been notified that we have not arrived at our scheduled destination.”

She sighed, going to speak. “But Kylo-” You shook your head. “They won’t tell Kylo because they know he will not be happy and they will want to solve it themselves. When you get to wherever you go, you will activate this.” Calista opened her hand to look at it.

“Push down and twist to the right. It will immediately send a signal to Kylo with your exact location. He will get there very fast and when he does, he will be furious. Kylo will read your mind after you tell him about the events that have happened. You must tell him this was my plan, do you understand?”

She sniffled as you continued on. “I’ll be fine. I want you all to get to safety.” Calista pulled you into an embrace, whispering in your ear as she did. “I’ll-I’ll tell him everything,” you offered a relaxed smile to try and qualm her nerves. “Kylo will find me. Now, go. You need to go.” Pushing her towards the doors, she glanced once more at you before rushing away.

A shaky exhale escaped your lips, fear pummeling you at what was about to happen. The leader returned mere seconds later, a large inhuman smile on his features. “Ah, where did the beautiful Calista go?”

Smiling politely you spoke. “To ready the ship for us. I want to thank you for your generosity and enthusiasm today, but we do have a schedule to keep to.” As you took a step back, the leader and his men made one towards you.

“So soon, Empress? We were hoping to enjoy supper and share more tales of our people. Our traditions.” Sweat dripped down the back of your neck. “Unfortunately, it was a fast trip. Perhaps next time we can extend it.”

His smile fell immediately. All warmth snapped from him in an instant. “No. I think you don’t understand.” In the blink of an eye, both of your arms were restrained by the guards he had brought back with him.

The king crossed the room leisurely. “You need to let me go. You know they will look for me.” He smirked as he approached you. Twirling a strand of your hair around his straggly finger, he inhaled deeply. “No, I don’t think they will, Empress. None of you will be leaving here today.”

As soon as he finished, the roar of the transports engines flooded the palace. Barking out an order in an unfamiliar tongue, you let a devilish smirk cross your face. A snarl emulated from him as he whipped his hand back before making contact with your cheek, drawing a surprised gasp.

It was just the start.

Nearly two full days later, their transport ship collided with the rocky terrain of whatever desolate planet they had found. Calista activated the gem as soon as they landed and just as you had said, Kylo ship touched down not long after.

The burnt landscape around them displayed his anger that he had unleashed with his saber upon discovering you hadn’t gone with them. Almost the entire area around them had been decimated.

What you didn’t realize was that Kylo had been unable to connect with you. Despite all of his efforts, the moment he had been notified of your missing status, he couldn’t find you. Connect with you. Speak with you.

Perhaps too far from him. Given you weren’t Force sensitive, this was uncharted territory. One he didn’t realize had a location cap. When you had sent him the ping of your location, it was lie salvation had washed over him.

Upon discovering you were not onboard that ship and had sent them off without you, it only ignited his rage. Far beyond the point of anger, he couldn’t believe you had put yourself in this situation. One he didn’t know how to solve. Fix. Get you back to him where you would be safe and protected.

Kylo's robes whipped around him as he turned and stalked towards the group who had watched the entire scene unfold before them. “Notify all of the Order that my Empress has been taken and is missing.”

He climbed back into his ship, beginning the search for you. His Empress. His dove.

#ficthots #kylo ren #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x y/n #kylo x reader #kylo ren x reader #kylo smut #kylo ren smut #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine

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izvmimi · 2 months ago

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cw: reader develops a new form and a new nickname. cold open in the middle of a fight.

When you finally come to, Asta’s cradling you practically like a child. Opening your eyes and looking directly into his concerned ones, irises crimson as he’s still in his demon form, nefarious aura swirling around him, and hanging in the atmosphere between you two, but no longer burning you as it seeps into your skin. Not like before you passed out, where a single touch had you in excruciating pain, the type that knocks air out of your lungs and doubles you over, contorting and stretching every muscle in your body like you were in hell incarnate.

Somehow that feels like forever ago, but from the still wet, angry tears in Asta’s eyes you can tell you were only out for a short while, and he’s still breathing in, heavily and slowly, as he holds you close.

“Asta…” you whisper. Your voice comes out clear and gentle somehow, and you can remember the strain on your vocal cords as you screamed earlier, now gone. Similarly, your body is light as a feather, and the skin of your face feels cool to the touch as though it were just washed. Rejuvenated. Purified.

“I’m here,” he replies and he’s smiling at you but quickly buries his face in your neck, letting out a sigh of relief that runs through his body, enough that he practically shakes with it. His arms pull you closer still, somehow and he kisses your forehead.

“Fuck, ___. You fucking scared me.”

The way he says your name feels as though he’s worried it would be the last time it would cross his lips. Your arms find their way around his body, but as you do so, you feel a new weight in your upper back, on both sides.

“I’m sorry, Asta. I didn’t mean to.”

In your peripheral vision, you can see bright brilliant feathers, gold and white and shimmering in the evening sun, spread wide and engulf you both; you feel them as they unfold and stretch and cocoon you.

Something miraculous has happened, you immediately know, triggered by the pain set off from his body making contact with yours. Something about his demonic aura awakening something deep and repressed inside the deepest depths of your soul, something at odds with the rest of your body.

You were prayed on for weeks to months as a newborn to keep evil from taking root inside your soul and perhaps the purification had been incomplete then.

Until now.

You breathe out and you can feel droplets in the small circumference around you, interspersing with Asta’s dark flames of energy. The air condenses, and as it falls onto him, you can see the slashes on his face and shoulders close up and heal.

Your hand moves to his cheek, and perhaps now is not the time, not in the middle of a battle, not with everyone watching and waiting, and enemies that remain to be defeated. The reason why he’s in demon form anyway, the reason why you were attacked and needed to be saved, and the reason why your bodies linked, and half your body appeared to be engulfed in the flames of Hell.

If only for a couple of minutes.

Asta looks like that short time aged him years, but as he looks up at you again, and you finally offer him a smile, and caress his cheek. The black marks of his demon form seem to fade gently where you touch him, if only for a moment.

“I’m okay, Asta. I promise.”

His face practically melts into softness, wet tears again resting at his lash line. You gently push him away from you, signaling that things are not yet finished. The small intimate world shared between you two is now filled in with background noise, and you can hear the shouts of your teammates holding off the demons. Crashes, clashes, magic.

“Let’s end this,” you offer him. You’ll have so much more to say to him later, but for now, there are many sick to heal and you don’t know what your new wings mean, or the surge of magic power you feel flowing through you relentlessly like a waterfall that never abates. Your grimoire glows and you can tell a new spell has been added.

Whatever this is.

He looks at you for a moment, really appraising whether or not you’re okay and won’t die on him any moment, then smiles, taking your hand to get you to your feet.

“I’ll be right back, angel.”

Your cheeks warm as you watch his concern and affection turn into an ever determined look, and the hanging dew drops fall all at once in a light rain.

He flies off, taking your heart with him. Your new wings flap, knowing your aim before you know yourself, and you’re flying over towards the sick, putting whatever new transformation this is to task.

#asta x reader #asta black clover x reader #daydreams: black clover #mimi's notes #mimista

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blueiscoool · 7 months ago

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George Washington's 250-Year-Old Cherries Found Buried at Mount Vernon

Archaeologists found something incredibly rare in the cellar of George Washington's home at Mount Vernon: Two intact jars of cherries buried in the basement of the first U.S. president's house.

Nick Beard, project archeologist at Mount Vernon, said on Tuesday that he had been excavating the basement "for quite a while" when he saw the lip of one of the jars in November.

When the bottle started to peek out from the earth, he proceeded carefully but said he didn't think it would turn out to be anything out of the ordinary, adding that it's common to find wine bottles and glasses at the site about 15 miles south of Washington, D.C.

In fact, Beard stepped away from the bottles to help on a more immediate project. Only when he returned several weeks later did he realize what he discovered.

As he worked, more and more glass became exposed. He tried to wiggle the glass out of its resting place, but when he did his fingers got a little wet.

That's when he noticed whatever he was working on was full of liquid.

"Which means if it's that full of liquid then it has to be intact enough to hold that liquid," said Beard. "That's not common, so that immediately got me excited."

Uncovered jars reveal centuries-old cherries

When Beard further revealed the jars, he called other archeologists to come check his findings.

The jars were fully excavated on March 22. The cherries were removed from the bottles to help preserve the glass, but after April 30, the glass will be sent off for conservation. Its contents will be sent to a lab for analysis and be tested in a controlled environment by specialists, according to a press release from Mount Vernon.

"It's extraordinary," Jason Boroughs, principal archaeologist at Mount Vernon, saying something similar has only happened twice in Virginia in the past six decades:

The latest discovery is a part of the privately funded $40 million Mansion Revitalization Project at Mount Vernon.

What was in the jar?

Beard and Boroughs said that cherries and a mystery liquid were found in the jar. And the cherries, Boroughs said, actually look like cherries, even after hundreds of years.

"They're plump, they have flesh, they have pits and stems," Boroughs said. "They don't look as if they've been sitting in a bottle for 250 years, although they have."

The liquid inside even smelled like cherry blossoms, according to Mount Vernon.

The cherries in the bottles were probably dry when they were buried, Boroughs said.

While the archeologists know what the cherries are, the liquid is still a bit of a mystery.

Lily Carhart, curator of the preservation collections at Mount Vernon, said it's possible the groundwater got into the bottle after the cork that sealed it deteriorated.

The liquid still needs to be tested, Boroughs said. And there is a small possibility it could've been a type of alcohol, like a brandy or cognac.

Why were the cherries buried?

Enslaved laborers picked the cherries, wiped them off to avoid condensation and placed them into the jar. Then, that jar was corked and buried sometime between 1758 and 1776, when both George and Martha Washington were living at the home, according to Boroughs.

He added that the method would've kept the fruit inside the bottle preserved for up to a year. It was one of the most popular ways to preserve berries and its how folks in colonial America preserved food before there were refrigerators.

"It pretty much keeps them isolated and sealed from the atmosphere, from air and from fungus and other things that could attack" he said.

According to Boroughs, the cherries were supposed to be served on George Washington's dinner table, but instead were forgotten and buried under a brick floor that was placed in the 1770s, sealing its fate as a sort of a "time capsule."

Can you still eat the cherries?

"You would not want to put that close to your face," Carhart said about the cherries.

Boroughs said that it could actually be possible to eat them, but "nobody wants to try."

Why is this discovery significant?

Boroughs said the discovery is remarkable because he "can't count the number of times 18th-century food remains have been found intact" the way the cherries were.

"We're the first people to touch these objects since they were put in the ground by an enslaved person," Boroughs said.

While the discovery itself is incredible, the archeologist said the stories that can be uncovered from it are just as amazing.

"We think of these items sort of as the material bits of lives that we can recover from the ground," Boroughs said. "These bottles tell stories. They're attached to people who had real lives and if we know how to put the pieces together, we can piece together something about their lives."

Beard added that it feels "surreal" to have such an "immediate connection with the people that lived back then."

By Julia Gomez.

#George Washington's 250-Year-Old Cherries Found Buried at Mount Vernon #Mount Vernon #George Washington #ancient artifacts #archeology #archeolgst #history #history news

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midseo · 3 months ago

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nexility-sims · 8 months ago

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𝐍𝐎. 𝟐 (𝟐/𝟐) ❛ 𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐚𝐬𝐭 ❜ | ZUYATL HOUSE, APRIL 1991

❧ 𝐝𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 / 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 / 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 / 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭.

❛ Once the cake had been cut—always an elaborate act of skill and expertise that Olalla performed while her relatives oohed and ahhed—the party resumed its relaxed atmosphere of casual conversation. The night had a scheduled end, but it had gone well enough to ensure everyone would trickle out slowly, in pairs or one-by-one, well into the late hours. Matias ate his cake slowly, taking small bites even once everyone else had left the table to converse elsewhere. He had retired himself to a more comfortable chair in the corner when Arnaut, having just finished a winding conversation with Olalla about the cake, approached.

❧ i wish i hadn't had to split it up into two posts, but !!!! in any case. spent the entire time paranoid about mixing up the two mats here ksdfds name diversity is for schmucks smh

𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐮𝐞𝐝 & 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭 ↓

“Happy birthday, Papa,” he offered by way of greeting.

Matias, pulled from his thoughts, glanced up. “Thank you.”

“Wrong flavor cake?”

“What?”

Arnaut exhaled, not quite a sigh as much as a resignation. “It was a joke,” he offered, deflated. “You look disappointed, so.”

“Birthdays become bittersweet at a certain point.” Matias rarely regarded anyone with anything except soft openness, but Arnaut felt especially exposed as his father gazed up at him, adding, “Sit down. Let’s hear it.”

He chuckled, which was more of a self-deprecating delay than a sincere sign of amusement. “No poker face whatsoever, huh?”

Arnaut sank heavily into the other chair. This was a well-established routine, albeit one that had been subjected to the disembodiment of telephone calls until recently. Forty years on, Arnaut still wasn’t sure what tells always gave it away. Matias would have told him, had he asked, that it was easy to tell when untroubled minds were burdened. It wasn’t an indictment. Arnaut had always been easygoing, carefree, disturbed only in the fleeting way skipped stones did a lake’s surface. When he was truly beset by a problem, it was unmistakable. Liars did so naturally; for those accustomed to carrying burdens, it was the same.

“Zifar is very unhappy with me,” Arnaut huffed. “We've been arguing all week.” The particulars didn’t matter, so he restrained himself from launching into an extended complaint about the petty conflicts over filing systems and paper trails and forms of address for people whose jobs Arnaut hadn’t known existed until he was being asked to involve himself in them.

Matias crossed an ankle over his knee. “Well,” he began, pausing as if reasoning his way to a conclusion. “You know what they say about chiefs of staff: usually single-use, quick expiration date.”

Instead of a humoring chuckle, Arnaut stared at the tiles of the floor and insisted, “I can make it work. I just don’t know how yet.”

“Maybe it’s worth saying you don’t have to ‘make it work,’” Matias offered. “The idea, I believe, was that keeping him on could help with the transition. If that’s not the case—”

Arnaut imagined himself firing Zifar. He would enter his office and find him there already, laying out neatly typed briefings in colored-coded folders. It was a system Safya had devised nearly two decades earlier, and Zifar must have learned it when she hired him in 1981. It was difficult for Arnaut to appreciate. He wanted Zifar to just explain the highlights to him. He wanted him to condense five pages of summary, itself condensed from fifty or five hundred, into a couple minutes of easy listening. Better yet, he wanted simple the assurance Zifar would inform him on the fly—that he didn’t need to prepare or memorize anything because Zifar would be there, aiding him as they went, a ventriloquist of sorts. So, there would be something rich in interrupt him to explain this system was no longer necessary. Zifar and the collection of byzantine practices he represented would no longer be necessary.

The satisfaction of that imaginary scene made him feel guilty, and Armaut interrupted Matias as a reflexive response.

“He’s trying,” Arnaut insisted, raising a hand, all too eager to defend the man whose job he entertained imperiling moments before. “He’s doing everything right.”

Matias cocked his head to the side. “What’s the problem then?”

“I’m not there yet.”

It went without saying. With more effort, more time, perhaps more patience, Arnaut could learn the system. He could muddle his way through the processes and mechanisms that Safya had devised, or otherwise inherited herself, to make work manageable. Although lacking the power of the Crown itself, this office of theirs unfurled from Arnaut’s desk into various units and projects and employees, all connected to each other and the rest of the government in ways that boggled the mind. Some people were meant for bureaucracy. They thrived in it. Every day, evidence mounted that Arnaut was not among them. He was not the most devout but, if he had been, he would believe his divine role was to set Uspana back a century through his personal failings. That was a crushing notion—that Safya’s death was not just tragic in and of itself but rather because it was the first domino in a greater series of losses. It was this idea, or the fact that Arnaut couldn’t stomach it, which forced him to conclude he could change. There was no other option.

Matias had other ideas, although his primary concern in this moment was soothing his son’s nerves. He was floundering, already in need of a lifeline that didn’t appear to exist.

“It’s not a defeat to hire someone who meshes better,” he said, assuming Arnaut needed permission, perhaps simply in the tacit form of a gentle suggestion.

Arnaut was quiet, and Matias allowed the moment to extend as long as he needed. He watched Arnaut’s features, seeing the effort he put into thinking through the proposition. For some time, Arnaut furrowed his brow and chewed his lip, Matias observed this, and the party continued apace around them.

Finally, Arnaut said, “It would be, I think.”

Matias had suspicions, but he understood that it wasn’t a capricious or unreasonable position to take. More than that, he knew Arnaut was a person propelled by emotions, including a fierce sense of loyalty. His decisions, insofar as they rested on reason, were always doomed or fated to half-hearted execution if they weren’t underwritten by some kind of passion. Arnaut’s motivations were not abstract concepts or aspirational virtues. His motivations were flesh and blood; they had names and faces. It wasn’t hard for Matias to imagine what led Arnaut to believe he had to keep this way of doing things alive, even at the expense of himself.

“Stick it out then, if that’s what you believe is best,” Matias replied, his tone gentle and without judgment.

As Matias and Arnaut talked, Leonor was down the hall within the house, changing her clothes in a guest bathroom. She had shoved her gown into a garment bag, and now she stood in front of the mirror in her underwear. A pair of slacks and a tee shirt waited, stacked on a chair nearby. She turned this way and that, frowning. Earlier, Olalla had shoved a plate stacked with cake into her hands—thick icing, four layers, moist cake with a delightful crumb. Leonor praised it enthusiastically to distract her aunt from the fact that she had mostly mashed it with her fork and eaten just a single bite.

With a sigh, she hurriedly put on her clothes, ran her fingers through her hair, and threw the door open. She planned to leave discreetly, headed for a party whose start coincided with a respectable time to depart the family gathering. Matias wouldn’t mind. She assured herself that her grandfather understood her life was busy; he would be grateful she had stayed through dinner, and he would be grateful for the matching tie and pocket handkerchief she gifted him. Her mind wasn’t on him but rather on the time, unknown because she lacked a watch, as she hustled out of the bathroom.

“Are you leaving?”

Mateo’s voice startled her. Leonor scowled at him once she had recovered and whipped around to see him lingering in the hallway. She replied, “I have plans.”

Hoping that would suffice but knowing it never did, she began walking. Mateo, retorting, “But this is our plan,” followed her.

Leonor stopped abruptly, and Mateo stumbled to avoid running into her. She sighed.

“Can you give me a break?”

“You know what?” Mateo said, quickly walking around to face her. “No, I can’t. I need to talk to you, and you just walk off every time I see you.” He paused, frowning, then tacked on, “Which isn’t often, by the way.”

“You’re going to have to elaborate because I don’t—” Leonor stopped herself. She shook her head, then started walking once more. “Actually, no. I have to go, and I’m not going to get sucked into ... whatever this is with you.”

Still, Mateo followed her. “Why are you being like this?” he demanded.

He imagined himself to be on the verge of a sobering adult conversation, but Leonor heard everything he said in the cadence of a whining child. Needful. Their mother had called him that once, speaking to Leonor in an offhanded way as they did a task at home. Once, her mother’s willingness to talk to her like a friend had been a great source of pride for her. Safya would share little anecdotes and opinions as they kneaded dough or cleaned paintbrushes or put on their shoes for work. Being the oldest child, and being her quiet companion throughout the day, Leonor was allowed small glimpses into her mother’s relationship to others. That included her own siblings from time to time. Needful seemed to ring true. Leonor, perhaps twelve at the time, recalled in part when Mateo had been born. She was not quite five that year, which meant she had been old enough to be enthusiastic about there being a baby at home but too young to appreciate what it meant. Her earliest memory was exactly how needy her infant brother was. Greedy and demanding, he clung to their mother and ate up the time that belonged to Leonor. Even when he was asleep or in someone else’s arms, it felt like there was less of Safya left for her.

Leonor knew on some level that her mind had, as she grew older, magnified those emotions and deepened them. As a soon-to-be five year old, she hadn’t resented her brother. She didn’t know the word “needy”; she would have thought about the problem in terms like “mine” or “now” instead, self-centered and impatient as all little kids were inclined to be. Even that would have been momentary. Her mother’s kisses and attention blotted away the dissatisfaction. So, too, did pridefully carrying around this living baby doll—kissing his soft head, making him laugh, helping Safya hold his bottle. Nonetheless, that was what she magnified now, the idea that Mateo had not outgrown the clinginess of infanthood and that, in fact, her mother had understood this. It didn’t matter that Safya and Mateo maintained a special relationship—that she called him needful because she wanted him, needed one of her children, to need her.

Leonor and Gil each had an independent streak. For her, it was a product of responsibility. It could have been the people-eater in her, too. Not so with the middle child. Mateo and Safya were, in more ways than Leonor had ever cared to count, cut from the same cloth.

Mateo was willing to wait for an answer, and Leonor had scrunched her face up in a way that suggested she had one. Finally, she did respond to him.

“... I don’t know what you want from me,” she began. There was a callousness to how she said the words. There was no frustration. It was matter-of-fact, inarguably so. “I don’t want to be your mama, if that’s what you’re getting at. You don’t need me. I didn’t need anyone when I was your age. Time to grow up. Go drink some wine and dance with Aunt Prissy.”

Taken aback, Mateo blinked a few times before mouthing, “What ... ?

Leonor rolled her eyes. “You’re being childish,” she said, aiming to clarify. With a handwave, she added, “Hanging around. Interrogating me.”

Mateo’s disbelief was palpable, but Leonor remained unaffected. She could have addressed the truth head on. Like Beatriz, she knew what this conversation was supposed to be. She knew what Mateo wanted to say to her, and she knew that she wasn’t ready—wasn’t willing—to engage with it. When he did finally shake his head and speak again, she had already made up her mind to disregard him and resume her plans for the night.

“You’re my sister, Leonor,” he pleaded. It wasn’t meant to sound that way. He had hoped it would be a strong, persuasive statement. Instead, it came out as a quiet, wavering appeal. “I just want to feel like we’re family. I never see you anymore, and I don’t get it. I just feel like Mama would—”

Leonor cut him off, shrugging,“I don’t know what to tell you, Mat.”

She was walking again before he could devise another tack to take. Weaving around him, she called back, “It’s not that serious. I’m going to be late.”

TRANSCRIPT:

MATIAS | Birthdays become bittersweet at a certain point. Sit down. Let’s hear it. ARNAUT | [Chuckles] No poker face whatsoever, huh?

ARNAUT | Zifar is very unhappy with me. We’ve been arguing all week.

MATIAS | You know what they say about chiefs of staff: usually single-use, quick expiration date.

ARNAUT | I can make it work. I just don’t know how yet. MATIAS | Maybe it’s worth saying you don’t have to “make it work.” The idea, I believe, was that keeping him on could help with the transition. If that’s not the case—

ARNAUT | He’s trying. He’s doing everything right. MATIAS | What’s the problem, then? ARNAUT | I’m not there yet. MATIAS | It’s not a defeat to hire someone who meshes better.

ARNAUT | It would be, I think. MATIAS | Stick it out then, if that’s what you believe is best.

[Leonor sighs]

MATEO | Are you leaving?

LEONOR | I have plans.

MATEO | But this is our plan.

LEONOR | Can you give me a break? MATEO | You know what?

MATEO | No, I can’t. I need to talk to you, and you just walk off every time I see you—which isn’t often, by the way. LEONOR | You’re going to have to elaborate because I don’t—

LEONOR | Actually, no. I have to go, and I’m not going to get sucked into … whatever this is with you.

MATEO | Why are you being like this?

LEONOR | … I don’t know what you want from me. I don’t want to be your mama, if that’s what you’re getting at. You don’t need me. I didn’t need anyone when I was your age. Time to grow up. Go drink some wine and dance with Aunt Prissy.

MATEO | What … ? LEONOR | You’re being childish. Hanging around. Interrogating me.

MATEO | You’re my sister, Leonor. I just want to feel like we’re family. I never see you anymore, and I don’t get it. I just feel like Mama would— LEONOR | I don’t know what to tell you, Mat.

LEONOR | It’s not that serious. I’m going to be late.

#ts4 story #sims story #sims 4 story #royal sims #simblr #ts4 legacy #1992.story.post #1992.a1 #1992.e04

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melonba11s · 11 months ago

Text

Frozen Pork (Tate Frost/FTM Strade)

Been stewing on this one for a while and finally finished it!

Strade belongs to Gatobob, Tate Frost belongs to Bileshroom, as always.

PLEASE mind the warnings for what this fic contains!

Contains: FTM Strade, Non-Con, Vaginal (performed on a trans man), Life or Death, Near Death Experience, Threat of Frostbite, forced orgasm, Belittling/slight humiliation.

Strade wasn’t a picky man when it came to his victims. Everyone had at least something small that set them apart from others, made them unique. But there was a type he tried to avoid.

The butcher at this tiny grocery store was the type he tried to avoid. Larger than him, obviously stronger than him. Sure if he got a chance, such as him being extremely intoxicated, he’d dive for a chance to take him home, make him cry and beg. But as he was, standing tall, staring, a confident smirk on his face? No. Strade would try and grab him and end up with a mouth full of pavement.

However… The cashier was another story. Disinterested, flipping through his magazine, giving Strade flippant answers to his questions, even managing a crass joke. He’d look real cute tied up in the basement, that glare wiped off his face and replaced by something far more wide eyed, stuttering about how he was sorry for his rudeness.

The store would close soon. Strade could just wait outside for the cashier to leave, catching him by his car. Strade paid for his few items and left, whistling to himself as he went to his car. Opening the trunk, he threw in his bag of items, thinking of how fun the next few days were going to be. He’d just been getting the itch for a new victim too, give Ren a break.

The only thing Strade remembered after that was the feeling of a large hand on the back of his head though, the hood of his trunk coming up to meet his gaze very fast. Whoever snuck up on him was definitely a lot bigger than him, but had somehow moved extremely quietly.

The world was quickly fading as the ground came up to meet him next, Strade was still in too much of a shock to process any kind of emotion. Just a voice, grumbling.

“Don’t think I don’t recognize the look you had on your face…” A pair of heavy boots came into his quickly fading view. “Vic up front, that’s my toy. Not yours.”

And then everything faded, and it felt like only a few seconds later Strade was waking back up.

The weather outside had been warm, it was a summer evening. It shouldn’t be this cold. His breath was fogging, his face pressed into a frigid floor that caused his hot breath to condensate on his face. He tried to push himself off the ground, but found his wrists tied together tight. Instant panic flooded Strade, as he arched his back, trying to sit up.

Hog-tied, arching his back allowed him to get a look at his surroundings, at least for a moment. Carcasses hung from the ceiling of a walk-in freezer. Then his body rocked back forwards and Strade could only view the icy tile floor again. He tried to control his breathing, stretching his hands back to try and untie the ropes holding him.

It was no use. They were too tight. A rage filled yell built in Strades throat as he kicked as hard as his bondage would allow, rolling onto his side. It was only now that Strade realized he’d been stripped down to his underwear. Thanks to the ice cold floor, his nipples were hard as rocks, his unkempt body hair doing nothing to keep him warm.

In the cold atmosphere, there was a sudden, slight bit of salvation as the door to the freezer opened, letting in a bit of the outside warmth in. Strade jerked his head to look over, growling in frustration at his situation.

The grocery store butcher stood there, grinning down at him as he came in, closing the door, and sealing Strades' bit of hope, behind him.

Anger was the only thing on Strades mind, as he let fly a string of insults in German, unable to control himself enough to put them into a language this man may understand.

It just earned him a sharp kick in the side, pushing him back onto his stomach.

“You seem to have a mouth on you, ‘Sha. But I can’t understand German. Why not put it in words I understand, let me really get hurt by what you’re saying?” The butcher knelt down, grabbing a fistful of Strades hair and pulling his head up, craning his neck.

Strade grunted in pain, collecting his thoughts for only a few seconds… before spitting into the man's face. Sure, his actions probably weren’t doing him any favors in surviving or escaping unharmed but his mind was racing too much for him to think of long term.

Rather than earning him a broken nose or another kick though, the larger man slowly wiped the spittle from his face before he began to laugh.

“Aah, I like my pigs full of fight. Just makes ‘em squeal louder when I finally stick ‘em.” The man let go of Strades hair, standing up.

“Now. You were telling practically everyone who stood still long enough yer name… “Strade”, right? Well. You can call me Tate. Or whatever insult leaves your mouth first, I’ve heard ‘em all.” Tate walked in front of Strade, getting down onto his knees.

“Now… I don’t know how you do things in your world. But this is mine. So you’re gonna follow my rules, or I’ll make this a lot more painful for you. Got it?”

“The moment I get up out of here things will get a lot more painful for-” Strade’s first full sentence since waking up was cut off by the invasion of two fat fingers in his mouth. He bit down, but they didn’t yank back. Tate instead grinned, using his free hand to pull out a small stack of cards.

“Bite while you can, piggy. Get my fingers good and slobbery too, maybe that will help them go in the other end.” Despite the cold air of the freezer, this was the sentence that sent Strades insides going cold.

“Y-You wouldn’t.” Shock was evident in his tone, as Tate pulled his bloody and saliva-covered fingers from Strades mouth. Tate looked at them, then began licking the fluids off.

“Would and will. Just seeing you rolling around and squealing like a caught pig has my dick hard as diamonds.” Strade glanced down, seeing the proof of Tate’s statement. He shrunk away as best he could now, still shaking in rage. But also fear.

“Now.” Tate picked up a few cards, glancing at them, then holding out three. “Pick my favorite.” Strade paused, looking at the well worn cards.

“... What do I get if I do?” Tate grunted, raising an eyebrow.

“We’ll figure that out when we get there, Sha.” he grinned, eyes narrowing. Strade glanced back at the cards. He could refuse to play along. He wanted to refuse. But his hands were quite literally tied.

The minutes ticked on, with Tate staring evenly at him. He did nothing to betray what card Strade should pick.

“.... Middle.” Strade finally grunted, sweat breaking out across his forehead as Tate glanced at the deck. Then a smile lit up his face.

“Two ‘a Spades. Heh. Even rhymes with your name, funny. But it ain’t my favorite-” Tate could barely finish the sentence before Strade was fighting with everything he had again.

The rope was cutting into his wrists, he could feel blood trickling down them, warm at first but quickly cooling and beginning to freeze in the frigid freezer. He was screaming again, hoping for someone, anyone to show up.

“Vic’s gone home.” Tate said, standing up. “And now that ass is mine for the claiming.” It was like he was picking up a bit too heavy of a grocery bag rather than a fully grown man. Tate easily hefted Strade up by the bonds holding his wrists and feet together.

“Right, this position would be a bit too awkward to fuck you in. So I’m gonna have to free your legs. Is that gonna be a problem?” Before Strade could even spit out a response, he felt something sharp slide through the rope connecting his legs together. They fell to the floor and first, he tried to find some balance, his bare feet slipping against the cold metal tile.

Then he began to kick at Tate, shouting out more threats in german. However, Tate still had his wrists bound, and held in one of his giant hands. Before he could land a good kick on him, wind was whistling through his ears.

The wall of the freezer came to meet his forehead, and there was a sickening thud that rang through Strades ears. He thought he could feel his brain rattling around inside his skull as he was dropped to the floor, his legs kicked apart.

“Nein…” His words came out too quiet as Tate got down on his knees. He tried to lift a leg to kick again but they were too heavy. A warm finger snuck into the waistband of his underwear.

“No.” He tried again, trying to inch back, but the wall was behind him.

“Don’t move too much ‘Sha, pretty sure I gave you a nice concussion there.” Tate grinned at him. From this position, Strade could really feel just how much bigger than him Tate was. His thigh was easily double the size of his own, his wide frame hiding the rest of the freezer from view as he pulled down Strades boxers.

Tate paused for a moment, then gave a low whistle.

“My, now that's a pretty sight to see, ain’t it?” Tate reached forward, pressing the meat of his palm against Strades pussy.

“F-Fuck off.” The cold was starting to get to Strade, along with how dizzy he was feeling, his words coming out slurred and stuttered.

“Nah Nah, I won’t be doing that. I said your ass was mine for the taking but I don’t mind making a last minute switch on what hole I get to use.” Tate reached down, beginning to unbutton his own pants as he pressed two fingers into Strades hole.

It was enough of an intrusion that even in his state, it got a groan of discomfort from Strade.

“Ah, you’re still nice and tight… Never been fucked before? Nah, you’re too handsome for that… I just bet all the other guys were fuckin’ small.” Strade grit his teeth, beginning to weakly lift his left leg for another kick.

Tate’s spare hand landed on it, forcing it back down. A frown across his face, leaning in.

“None of that, I won our little game, so you better just sit tight and take it…. And the more you fight, the longer we’ll be in here though. And I’m starting to get curious on how long you’ll last before you get hypothermia.” Strade swallowed now, groaning as Tate continued to force his fingers inside him.

He was fucking freezing. His head hurt like a bitch. He wanted nothing more than to throw himself forward and tear into this man's chest like a feral boar.

But he wanted to live too. And living meant… He swallowed apprehensively as Tate finally pulled his cock out.

“Fuck no.” Strade managed to gasp out, his entire body stiffening so much that it actually made his head throb.

“Admire it while you can, darlin’.” Tate laughed, pulling his fingers out of Strades barely stretched hole. “Soon enough it’ll be buried in that cunt of yours and you’ll be feeling it instead of seeing it.”

Adrenaline was coursing through Strades veins as Tate began to line himself up. Any verbal protests died in his throat as Tate began to push himself forward.

It was pushing all the air out of him. It felt like all of his organs were being shoved into his throat. No room for breath, no room for screams, no room for anything but Tate’s massive fucking cock.

A tongue ran across his cheek, shaking him out of whatever stupor he had put himself in.

“You look good crying, Sha. Tastes good too. Always liked extra salt on my meat.” Strade could only let out a strangled protest. He’d never felt so fucking full in his life, and it hurt. It stretched him so far he swore he could feel every ring of muscle in his crotch splitting under the force.

Tate just sighed, leaning back with an almost drunk smile on his face.

“Aah, ya took it like a champ, Sha. Love it when I can feel a guy's cervix rubbing against the tip of my cock.” Strade grit his teeth, glaring up at his captor. Any ideas of shutting up and letting him finish as fast as he could were gone, as his arms began to strain against the bindings once again.

“Gonna, fucking-Ah!” He was cut off as Tate pulled out only to slam back into him, picking up a brutal pace. The rest of his insults only came out as pain filled groans as Tate began to laugh.

“You’re gonna what? Cum on my huge cock like a desperate slut?” Strade blanched.

“I’m gonna fucking KILL you!” He retorted, hating having words shoved into his unwilling mouth.

“I don’t think you are, Sha. I think you’re gonna realize how great my cock feels.” He wouldn’t. Strade growled trying to drown out the rest of Tate’s words as he felt those fat balls slap against his ass.

“And you’re gonna begin to beg for more.” Tate began to yell, making sure Strade couldn’t possibly ignore him. The entire time Tate had his fingers digging into Strades thighs, belly swollen and pressing against Strades clit as he leaned forward, keeping up his fast pace.

And the cold. The fucking cold. Strade could feel his skin beginning to freeze against the freezer surfaces. Frostbite was going to set in quickly. His own tears were freezing against his cheeks, turning into shards of ice along his 5 o'Clock shadow. Every surface that Tate wasn’t touching was in stiff frozen agony.

And he moaned. Despite everything, despite his anger, he let out a moan that he quickly bit down on, cutting off. Tate’s grin grew wider, running his tongue over Strades cheek again to lap up those frozen tears.

“Don’t be shy, Sha. Go on, let it out.” he chuckled. Strade shook his head, trying to fight off that persistent tongue. His breath was fogging against him, condensation from it clinging to his and Tate’s chest and quickly freezing. He needed to keep moving in order to stay awake. He could feel his brain beginning to shut down from a mixture of the cold and his concussion.

His hips jerked forward to meet Tate’s thrusts, mouth hung open as he gulped in as much air as he could. He needed to stay awake. He needed to fight back. He needed too…

Another moan passed his lips. He needed to cum. His core was quickly heating up from the friction and feeling of sex, squirming under a man much bigger than him. He needed warmth, something Tate was providing.

He pushed himself up against Tate as best he could. He’d been pushed to such an absolute edge he couldn’t even drum up any proper rational thoughts anymore. He needed warmth, he needed to cum, he needed to live.

It was like he was being held underwater, the only thing he could do was struggle and gasp for air he couldn’t reach. He was aware of a large hand moving over his thigh, his hips, then back down to his crotch.

Two fingers sliding over his clit then stroking it in tandem with the thrusts. Yes… Yes… Just a bit…

Strade’s frozen voice cracked as he came, just as Tate began pumping him full of hot cum. Then his head fell back, his teeth grit together.

“Sha?” a voice from far away rang in his ears. He couldn’t…. He couldn’t die… He couldn’t move. He just wanted to sleep. But if he slept he’d die. His mind was racing with half formed thoughts as the world continued to close in around him, frosting the edge of his vision.

And then there was a rush of warm air, and he lifted his head again, just in time to see the pavement come back up to meet him for the second time that night. He threw his hands out, yowling in pain as the reddened skin, still sensitive from its time in the freezer, scraped against asphalt.

He had been haphazardly dressed again in his own clothes. He looked around, panicking, before glancing back at Tate in the doorway. Tate just grinned down at him.

“You’re a little killer, so I figure you’ll know better than to go to the cops. Just don’t come back here again, ya hear? This is my hunting grounds.” Tate turned around, letting the back door swing close behind him. Before it shut, he waved and gave Strade one last bit of advice.

“Get your head checked out soon, Sha.”

Strade sat on the pavement, bruised and bleeding, in more pain than he’d ever been in his life, and paranoid. He swallowed roughly, before beginning to gulp down breath after breath of warm air, each pass serving to defrost a part of him.

His head was pounding, he would need to get to a hospital soon… And he’d need them to also check him for frostbite.

#boyfriend to death #strade #btd fanfic #boyfriend to death fanfic #strade btd #tate frost fanfic #tate frostbite #tate frost

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