#I have always wondered how notes for the drums were written down

[sunshineandlyrics]

🥁 A fan posted a tiktok about learning how to play the drums intro to Out of My System live, and Steve commented on it x

🥁 Steve then saw the tiktok after she completed the task and posted it on his IG story, calling her Legendary (8 September 2023) x

[dollmulder]

afternoon

pairing: fox mulder x fem!reader

word count: 7.8k

warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, oral (f recieving), fingering

other tags: it’s alluded to that mulder is trans

authors note: i originally posted this on ao3 under the same title and username (afternoon by dollmulder) if you’d rather read it there :) otherwise, enjoy!

p.s, as i stated on ao3 this is the first bit of writing i’ve done in some years now, and it’s also the first ever explicit smut scene ive written, so i apologize if it’s not that great as i really have no idea what im doing here and my skills are rather rusty. but i do hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!

you stood in front of the stove that belonged to the kitchen of your small apartment. before you, a pink kettle was placed on the burner, while you patiently waited for the water inside to boil. it was midday, and for once neither you nor fox had any plans. typically, when one of you wasn’t tied up with work, the other one was. however, today was different, and you intended to take full advantage of it.

you may have wasted part of the day by sleeping in until the afternoon, but you couldn’t help it. fox was asleep in your bedroom still, and he looked so agonizingly beautiful while he slept. not that he didn’t when he was awake, because by god he did, but being able to lie in bed next to him, admiring him and listening to his heartbeat thrum in his chest was an experience like no other. the way his eyelashes rested upon his cheeks, and how he snuggled his face deeper into the pillow now and then.

you enjoyed moments of domesticity like that, even though they were somewhat fleeting. oftentimes the two of spent your time together at his apartment, and when you weren’t doing that, he was either at work or off chasing the paranormal. sometimes he would invite you on these excursions, and generally you would go if you weren’t busy with work yourself, but it seems this weekend he had nothing planned for once. it was as if all the stars were aligned to give you both this perfect day, and you were hoping to keep it that way.

you drummed your fingers against the wooden countertop, impatiently waiting as your thoughts drifted from weekends spent with fox to other mundane things, like going over your to-do list of errands for this weekend, laundry, dishes, shopping, etc. and you wondered how many of those things you were actually going to be able to check off. you decided though that for today, your list could wait. today was going to be a perfect day, you said to yourself, as if manifesting it to be true.

you watched the kettle for a moment longer but a watched pot never boils, and almost as if a meant to be a perfectly planned distraction, you heard your bedroom door creak open, and the soft thuds of fox’s feet making his way down the hall. you smiled to yourself, and turned around just in time to see him leaning in the archway, his hair looking scruffy and his face still wrought by sleep. he was wearing nothing but boxers that clung to him loosely, and you must say, even then in this disheveled state, he looked breathtaking.

“i was wondering where you went,” he yawned, rubbing his eyes and still trying to rid the slumber from his system. you felt your heart flutter at the way his voice was laced with sleepiness, before you sauntered over to him, his large hands immediately finding their way to your hips, like following a well traveled road. it was instinctive for him.

you reached up and placed a chaste kiss to his lips, cupping his face as you did so, your hands moving down so your thumbs could glide over his paltry amount of stubble. “miss me?”

“always.” he smiled at you and you smiled back, before reaching up to give him another quick peck on the cheek.

“well, good morning- er, afternoon i guess.”

fox hummed, and after a beat he asked, “is it really that late?” his eyes roved over your body, eyeing your outfit, and you squirmed under his gaze.

“i see the mystery of my missing t shirt’s been solved,” he remarked before you had a chance to respond to his previous question, not that it mattered. fox had realized his shirt was missing a little while ago and he had figured you’d borrowed it or that he had misplaced it, but now that he knew for sure, this was another mystery he could check off from his ever-growing list. he supposed he could’ve asked you about it before, but it was never a top priority to him compared to other unsolved cases that wracked his brain on the constant.

you pulled out of his grasp, swaying your way back over to the stove, as his hand outreached, wanting to hold you still. “i borrowed it the other day,” you said facing away from him, pretending to be watching the kettle and biting your lip, thinking. “i hope you don’t mind.” you knew that he didn’t. he loved when you wore his clothes, when you gave them back and your scent lingered interwoven in the fabric, as if he needed any more reasons to put off doing his laundry.

“do you want any tea?” you cut through his thoughts, asking over your shoulder while you still faced the stove, and he hummed in approval.

suddenly, a smirk befell your face as you walked over to the cabinets, standing on your tippy toes to reach for two mugs. your- his -shirt rode up slightly, but just enough to expose your light blue underwear and the way it hugged your curves. you stretched a little more than you needed to, making sure he got the vision.

he hummed, too focused on watching your little display, eyes focused on your movements as he spoke, voice still slightly gruff from sleep. “you know that i don’t mind,” he trailed off, returning to your prior conversation. he pulled his plump bottom lip into his mouth, “but i’d like if you at least told me first.”

you grabbed the two mugs, one of which being a dusty blue color, with darker blue dots and little white ghosts swirling all around it, and the other was a translucent pink, with a red and pink strawberry pattern encompassing it. you placed them on the counter and stopped being on your tippy toes, his shirt falling back into place covering you back up for now. it was an old shirt of his, one from his time at oxford, and it hung slack around your smaller frame.

“im telling you now aren’t i?” you turned around and found fox stepping towards you, his arms coming to wrap around your waist. this was another thing the two of you usually did at his apartment, which made sense of course, as you both spent lots of the time you had together there, but last night, after staying particularly late at his office, fox called and decided to crash at your place as it was less of a drive than going back to his own apartment, and of course because he missed being in your presence. you gave him a key a short while ago so he could do just that, and because you loved having him in your space too. you couldn’t quite explain it but it made your apartment feel more like a home whenever he was here. you wondered if he felt the same about you being at his apartment, and decided he probably did, seeing as your presence there did make it more homely. you remembered when you used to continuously pester him about using his bedroom for it’s intended purpose instead of a large cluttered storage space, and he teased you back asking what you meant by “intended purpose”. you told him he’d have to find out, and that he did when the next time you came over his bedroom was decluttered, ready and waiting.

a flush aroused on your cheeks as you continued to think, now about last night, where upon his arrival here, you had ushered him to bed while he sleepily rambled to you about whatever it was he was working on, probably things he wasn’t supposed to tell you. all you could remember was something about government conspiracies and alien abductions, which was the usual topic of his sleepy rambling. that, and talking about you. you loved to listen to his sleepy words and babbling, even if it didn’t always make much sense to you.

then you thought of later that night when you both were in bed, sleepy fingers fumbling, touching, teasing one another in the dark. the way his hands slithered up and around your bare chest as yours did the same, before dipping down below his boxers while your mouth swallowed up the sleepy whines and whimpers that mewled past his lips.

“more like showing me,” fox chuckled, bringing you back to the here and now, and your blush deepened at his remark. he then pressed a kiss to your forehead, and you smiled, holding your left hand out to rest your palm against his chest. his skin was warm, much warmer than your cold fingers. as if to prove your point, he shivered a bit as your fingers delicately traced the two surgical scars across his chest.

“sorry,” you whispered, giggling and pulling your hand back to rest a finger on your bottom lip, doe eyes looking up at him, but just as suddenly as you did that, he grabbed your hand away and brought it to his own lips, kissing each of your dainty fingers. you smiled, going to take a step back but forgetting there was nothing but counter behind you. you were too enraptured by the moment to think about anything else, but just as soon as it happened it was over with.

“pretty,” he muttered to himself, before letting go and walking off towards presumably the bathroom, and you sighed into a smile, body still pressed to the counter behind you. he was such an interesting man, and you meant that in the best way possible. even from the very first moment you had met him, you couldn’t stop thinking about him and all of his intricacies. he had enthralled you from the beginning, and you couldn’t help but to question what he saw in you, not in a strongly self deprecating sense, but in the way that you questioned how you could compare to someone like him.

you knew if you told him these thoughts he would simultaneously shut them down and reflect them back at you, wondering what he did to deserve you .

you then turned and reached up again, this time towards a different cabinet, your fingers sliding under the lip of the wooden door, pulling it open with a low creak. you were looking for your tea bags, and after a moment of shuffling between boxes you finally found the one you were searching for. grabbing the box of just plain black tea, you opened it carefully and plopped a teabag into each mug, before closing the box back up and stretching once more to put it back into the cupboard where it belonged, in perfect timing as the kettle began whistling.

finding your way over to the stove, you grabbed the kettle and turned off the burner, then stepping back over to the counter and pouring some water into each mug. you heard fox shuffling his way back into the kitchen and shortly after felt one of his hands grab your hips, the other brushing your hair to the side so he could kiss at your neck.

“grab the honey for me?” you asked him, leaning over and placing the kettle back onto the stove, and he groaned, not wanting to let you go, but nevertheless he did, returning a moment later, honey in hand, which he had retrieved from the nearby cupboard behind you both. you turned around and outstretched the ghost mug towards him. “i’ll trade you,” you said, doing just that, knowing he preferred his tea without any honey in it.

he smiled, taking the mug and blowing some of the steam away from it. “you gave me this mug on purpose didn’t you?” he questioned, already knowing the answer, he just wanted an excuse to hear your angelic voice once more.

“of course, spooky.”

normally, he didn’t care for when people called him that name, not that it necessarily angered him, it was more annoyance at best, but with you it was different. you used it as a term of endearment, and he loved it, along with every other pet name you would call him. you had a way of spinning things into a positive light, one of the many, many, things he adored about you.

you turned back around to face the counter, grabbing a nearby spoon and stirring the honey into your tea, while he sat his mug down and put the bear-shaped honey bottle back into its home where it belonged. he came back behind you again, wrapping his arms around you and resting his head on your shoulder.

“what’s the plan for the rest of today?” he asked, snaking his large hands under his oxford shirt so that they could rest upon the bare skin of your hips. he hooked his thumbs under the band of your underwear, just wanting to be able to feel the coolness of your skin beneath his fingertips and the way it’s softness complemented the somewhat calloused nature of his hands.

“whatever you want to do, monster boy,” another pet name. “it’s your day off after all.”

he hummed. “it’s yours too.”

you sat your mug down in front of you waiting for it to cool off some more as it wasn’t ready for you to take your first sip, and then you turned to face him. “we both know you’re busy with work much more often than i am. even when you’re not working, you’re working . so you choose. i’m just happy to spend time with you,” you stretched up to press a lingering kiss to his lips, “but if i do get a say, brush your teeth, you have morning breath.” you paused… “er, afternoon breath.” and he smiled at you before groaning in mock annoyance.

in return, you batted and fluttered your eyelashes at him. “please?” and he smiled once more. how could he not give in to what an angel asked of him?

“oh i suppose, anything for you, my dearest.” and then off he went again, back towards the bathroom. you always kept a spare toothbrush for him in a cup at the sink. it made you smile in the mornings to see it there, just a little hint of his existence in your life, along with all the other little things around your apartment. you’ve left your fair share of belongings at his apartment, probably more than he has here, and with that thought, you made a mental note to yourself to steal more of his clothes and other belongings to have around.

sliding the mugs to the side, you hopped up on the countertop, grabbing your own mug and blowing the steam away as you waited for him to come back. you gently took a first sip of your tea, cursing at yourself as it was still too hot for you, so you resumed blowing on it, and as you did, your mind drifted, thinking about what kind of adventures the day ahead of you might hold. who knows with what fox might have in mind, always conjuring up some new adventure to fill the boredom of the rest of the day with. you were perfectly content with just lounging around your apartment in your underwear all day, not particularly wanting to go out and about and do anything, so you hoped he wouldn’t suggest anything of that nature. you didn’t want to have to take his shirt off in order to change into something more appropriate for outside wear, as you enjoyed the way his scent lingered around you. although, you decided, while you don’t necessarily want to take his shirt off to change out of it, you wouldn’t oppose to taking it off for other reasons.

your mind drifted, envisioning your previous escapades, your mind conjuring up pictures of his hands roaming your body, your hands slipping underneath his boxers, feeling him, teasing him, palming him in a way he had rarely let others do. the way his mouth hung open, his hands clutching your shirt, the bedsheets, whatever they could grab ahold of. excitement stirred in your abdomen and you shifted your hips, squeezing your thighs together. your hands became his in your mind, as the vision shifted to how he teased you, holding you, kissing you, fingers dipping beneath your lace trim to slip inside of you, and you bit your lip feeling a familiar hunger starting to growl within you.

last night the two of you had fooled around a bit before he dozed off, but it was barely anything more than soft touches and sleepy kisses, hushed i missed you ’s and whispered i love you ’s. even if your fingers had curled underneath his boxers, it was mere teasing, and it left your body (and his) wanting more, but you were sleepy and you knew he was too. however, now that your body and mind were awake, your desire was too.

after a moment fox returned and found his way over to you once more, moving to stand between your legs, and even with you sitting on the countertop he was still a bit taller than you. his hands rested on your thighs as he leaned down to kiss you slowly. it was a passionate kiss, and even though your bottom lip still tingled a bit from burning it with the hot tea, you ignored it and focused on the new tingling sensation. there was nothing better than a gentle kiss from fox mulder himself, and you’d never trade up this opportunity for anything.

“what’s gotten you so bothered?” he asked with a smirk, pulling his lips away from yours and picking up on your flushed face and warm skin, and the neediness you kissed him back with. in response, you wrapped your legs around his torso to keep him there before saying anything. this moment now felt like home. having the man of your dreams, the man of your reality , standing before you, between your legs, looking at you with such adoration you’d think it was like you had gifted him the whole world. but you did, because to him, you were his whole world.

“just thinking about you,” you hummed, your mug off to the side, forgotten about for now as you reached your hands around so your fingers could twirl themselves in the bit of hair at the nape of his neck, and then you smiled as you pondered for only a second.

“of me?” he asked, smirking as you looked at him with such innocence, but a gleam of something else in your eyes. a look he knew all too well. “me how?”

“oh, you know.” you shrugged, playing coy.

“enlighten me.”

“well, i do have an idea for something we could do today.”

he leaned down, kissing the corner of your mouth, speaking lowly, as his lips moved their way around to your neck. you tilted your head to give him more access, and his breath tickled your skin as he spoke. “i thought you said i got to choose today's events?”

“would you rather do something else then?”

“you haven’t told me your idea yet.”

“i thought you liked solving mysteries.”

the way his mouth moved against your neck, you began to feel butterflies invading your stomach, sinking further down below, and you felt one of his hands slide from your hips to the expanse of your thighs, to the space in between, and you gasped at the sensation. his fingerstips delicately traced over you, nothing separating the two of you except for the thin cotton layer of your underwear, which had procured a small wet patch in the time being.

“something like this?”

you gasped, feeling his teeth scrape gently at your skin, followed by another pink flush rushing to your cheeks, and you felt him smile and chuckle against you, to which you smiled back.

“don’t laugh at me,” you breathed out as his fingers pulled away from you, sliding back up to hold your waist beneath his shirt, and the butterflies in your stomach began to flap their wings more vigorously. your mouth hung open, as his worked magically against your neck, and you couldn’t help but whine slightly as he pulled away, the only contact now being his hands holding you still, which on a regular day, you would never complain about, but you did desperately wish for his fingers back where they were moments ago, deeper, inside you . you shuffled your hips at the idea and a devious smirk swept across his face. “but uh, yeah i think you’ve got the idea now.”

he looked you over for a moment, his eyes holding sweetness like that of the honey in your now forgotten tea, and the softness of a prairie after a long night of rainfall. but there was something else lingering there too.

your hands, which had been holding onto the countertops edge for the time being, traveled their way back up to cupping his face once more, your thumb gently caressing over his bottom lip, plump and sheening with saliva. his breath was hot as he panted between parted lips.

“i love you,” you said before you could even register the words coming out of your mouth, and your face flushed again with subtle embarrassment. it was true of course, you did love him, you loved him like you needed air to breathe. your hand dropped from his face, down his neck, and rested languidly against his chest.

“what was that?” he asked, leaning down again to press sloppy kisses to your face, your neck and around your ear. his voice was low, and you sucked your bottom lip in between your teeth in anticipation. your fingers curled, scratching gently at his chest. “i couldn’t quite hear you from way up there.” and of course there it was, you were giving yourself to fox mulder, allowing yourself to be loved and touched and cherished by him, and he couldn’t help himself from making a joke at the expense of your height. you smiled and you couldn’t stop the laugh that he loved so dearly from tumbling from your lips.

“i said,” you spoke in mock annoyance, shoving him away playfully as his hands roamed up your stomach to gently cup your breasts, and you gasped at the touch, thoughts becoming more jumbled in your brain by the second. you scrunched your face trying to keep the facade of annoyance up, but you were unable to keep the smile from breaking through, and you swallowed thickly as his thumbs massaged in circles. “i said, i love you, you giant idiot.” and he smiled a toothy grin at you.

“i love you more.”

you couldn’t quite describe the emotions you were feeling, there was a culmination of so many at once. happiness, love, lust, contentment, desire, the whole lot. it amazed you how one person could conjure up such sentiments within you, and you could only hope you did the same for him.

he pulled his hands down to hold your waist again as he leaned down to capture your lips with his own, a kiss of fervor. you tasted the lingering effects of your toothpaste mixed with the earthy flavors of the tea you had made earlier still somehow soaked into the cracks of your lips. he pulled your bottom lip with his teeth softly, and you moaned into the kiss with surprise, a sound he swallowed up with nary a complaint. but then he pulled away, and you leaned forward, body and mind still begging for more, and he chuckled breathily.

“quite needy, huh?” he spoke softly, and your eyes fluttered open at the sound. you watched the way he looked at you, and it only fueled the flames of desire within you more.

“quite a tease, huh? ” you mocked, leaning forward to capture his lips once more, whatever passion that the last kiss held, this one was tenfold. it was sloppy, wet, incited by the intensity of your coupled desire. your lips parted and he took the chance for his tongue to slip inside, and your fingers grasped and tugged at his hair, earning a groan from him, and you melted into the sound and sensation.

you arched your back, head thrown back as his hands roamed under your shirt and gently traced up your spine, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and with this new angle his mouth kissed, licked, and nipped at your throat and your hold on his hair got impossibly tighter, and he groaned once more, feeling the vibrations rattle against your throat. you loosened your grasp suddenly and clumsily, uttering hushed apologies as you did so, fearing you might’ve hurt him by pulling too hard. you felt fox smile against your neck, and he pulled away, lips parted as he looked at you. your breathing was fast and your cheeks burned. your neck was red and glistening from his lips, teeth, and tongue, and you looked absolutely stunning in his eyes.

you sat there, deep breaths and adrenaline coursing through your body, and arousal pulsing at your core, as you waited for him to say something, anything. his tongue slid across his teeth into a smile.

“don’t be sorry,” his hands, which had found their way back to your waist, gave a gentle reassuring squeeze, and he leaned in close to your ear again. “i like it.” and you felt your heart flutter.

“i don’t want to hurt you,” you crooned, and his smile remained. he kissed you gently and you fought your bodies urge to lurch forward and devour him whole. your insides fluttered with lust and your core dripped with desire. there was an empty ache within you and while yes, you enjoyed this moment of intimacy, your arousal was like waves, pushing at the floodgates within your brain, and you were willing to let it take control.

“you weren’t.” fox said, pulling his lips away from you slowly, eyes watching you almost as if he could sense your internal struggle, and you simply tried to catch your breath in return.

his hands slithered down away from you, pushing your legs apart wider as he began to kneel before you, eyes watching your reactions the entire time as he cupped his hands and arms around you, pulling you towards the edge of the counter, ever closer to him, and during this process your heels naturally found a resting spot against his back. your skin burned where his hands held you, and all your brain could think about was how his long slender fingers would feel curling inside of you, and his plump lips and tongue tasting you. it was intoxicating.

“we’re doing this here?” you asked, and still he looked up at you, an eyebrow quirked. you felt like a divine being sitting here before him like this, even though he was not on his knees for prayer. fox mulder was not a religious man, but you held the power to make him one, for you were like a goddess to him, and he was going to treat you as such, even if it meant he would have to use his mouth for something so sinful, but for you, he would do anything. his eyes, a deep, dilated color like the moss covered forest floor stared up at you and you felt sacred, even with his gaze mirroring that of the hungry fox lurking within, but you, you were the forbidden fruit, and he was dying to have a taste.

“here.” you decided firmly before he could answer. it was your world, and nothing else mattered. you created the space before you now, and fox was nothing if not your devout follower.

your hands gripped the countertop tightly, knuckles turning white in anticipation, desire tingling in your abdomen and pooling in your underwear. his eyes looked up at you, hands going to push his shirt up your stomach so he could get a better view, and you shivered as the movement tickled your belly. a small tuft of pubic hair peeked out of the top of the lace trim of your undergarments, and your face grew hot as your eyes watched his every move.

fox shot you a quick look, a soft “can i?” surpassing his lips, hanging in the air as you nodded in approval, too busy staring at his face and analyzing his long eyelashes. your eyes traveled down his large nose, sweeping over his pores, and finally resting upon his parted lips, watching as they moved and his voice pulled you from your thoughts and brought you back to the moment.

“use your words,” was what he said, still holding you, but not moving an inch closer until you permit him to. you had control over the situation and your body trembled before him, your tongue darting out to lick your lips before you spoke.

“please.”

and that was all he needed as he leaned forward, pressing gentle kisses to you through your underwear. you gasped at the contact, hips shifting, pelvis tilting, but he held you in place, eyes closed as his mouth pressed more fervent kisses to you, and god, you never wanted to remove an article of clothing more in your life. as if he could read your thoughts, a sudden sound between a gasp and a cry escaped your lips as he pulled the wet fabric to the side, and his mouth pressed directly against you in a gentle teasing kiss. you throbbed before him, and it was almost torturous when you felt the slick cotton fabric covering you back up again, his fingers tracing over you through the fabric once more, oddly reassuring you that he was going to take care of you.

you groaned out of frustration, now exceedingly desperate for his touch, and he cocked his head at you, a faux innocent smile plastered on his face, looking like a dog sitting on the floor in front of you, paws on your thighs, tail wagging excitedly as he begged for scraps. you wouldn’t have been surprised if you’d seen him drooling before you.

“what?” he asked, unable to hide the teasing glint in his eyes as he stared up at you and you quivered before him.

“are you trying to get me to beg?” you asked, chest rising and falling with your heavy breaths.

“well… you know i wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“i already said please.”

“so say it again then.”

his hands gave you a gentle squeeze causing you to squirm before him, your cheeks getting hotter and the ache within you deepening.

“christ,” you whined, rolling your eyes back in frustration. you knew what you wanted, he knew what you wanted. all you had to do was ask for it.

he loved it when you begged, and while yes, it might inflate his ego a bit, that’s not the reason why he loved it so. it’s because it was nice to have vocal confirmation that you wanted him so desperately as he did you. deep down he was a bit insecure that you didn’t love or desire him nearly as much as he loved and desired you, and while he knew this wasn’t true, there was always this little voice in the back of his head saying “what if?” and hearing your voice pleading for his touch drowned it out and shoved it away.

fox peppered kisses up your thighs, getting close but staying ever far away from where you desired him most. your hands found his hair yet again, intertwining in the soft brunet locks atop his head, and you sucked in a breath as he licked a stripe at the crevice where your leg and hip joined, breaths tickling your skin as the sweet scent of your arousal filled his nose.

“fox, please , if you don’t hurry up i’m going to-“

“what?” he asked, cutting you off while his eyes looked up at you and the cunning smile of a fox etched itself onto his face. you couldn’t quite help but think he had chosen his name appropriately. fox, fox, fox, the word played in your head like a melody, darting around your thoughts like an animal chasing its prey. “you’ll do what exactly?” his words sliced through you while you sat atop the counter like a divine meal, waiting to be ripped and torn to shreds by gnashing teeth, juice dripping and soaking into the earth beneath.

“christ, i don’t- i don’t know, okay? just-“ your words fumbled out of your mouth faster than you could think, frustration and arousal bubbling fast within your body like a pot boiling over on the stove.

“please, please , just touch me already. pretty please?”

“pretty please, huh?” he chuckled to himself as his hands slid to your lower back and over the curvature of your ass, thumbs hooking themselves in the waistband of your underwear. he looked up at you, eyes silently asking for your assistance and you obliged, lifting your hips, allowing him to pull the sodden underwear down off from you, and you kicked them off to the side, legs resting over his shoulders once more. your eyes locked with his as you stared each other down, wondering who would break first. your hand outreached coming up to cup his cheek and jaw again, your thumb tracing over his bottom lip out of habit, and your breath hitched as he pulled it into his mouth, tongue darting over your fingertip devilishly.

he was the first to break eye contact, eyes lurking down your body, finding their way to your dripping core, glistening in the dim lighting, and you were brought back to reality a little bit, realizing that here, now, fox mulder was about to go down on you, in your kitchen. thank god.

you squirmed under his gaze, both out of desire and longing to be touched, tasted, devoured, and picking up on this, he shot a glance up towards you once more, before leaning down and kissing your inner thighs, lips leaving ghostly kiss marks everywhere they touched, and your skin burned with want as his mouth got closer and closer.

fox decided that he had teased you sufficiently. you were a whining princess sat atop a tower, waiting to be rescued, satiated, and he was your knight in shining armor. that and of course, you had asked so nicely. pretty please. how cute and desperate you were, you really were like a princess, his princess, and while fox was never one to be controlling over you, he loved and relished in this possessiveness he was feeling. no one else got to see you like this, but him. no one else made you feel like this but him.

with that thought, he pressed a warm kiss to your wetness, and your body jolted at this, feeling electricity course through you as his tongue licked a tantalizing stripe up your center. one of your hands clenched at his hair, fearing your grasp was the only thing holding you down on earth, the other pushed against the countertop, holding you up as your fingers writhed.

your heart beat for him, quite literally as he felt it pulsing within you. his tongue was soft and his jaw relaxed as he tantalizingly licked from your entrance up to your clit, and a moan escaped from your throat and past your lips, sounding like an angel. your eyes squeezed shut and your head threw back again as his fingers dug into the flesh of your thighs like a soft ripened peach, and his tongue swirled around you.

“jesus, thank you,” thank you, thank you, thank you, you moaned out, not caring if you were being too loud for your thin apartment walls. that wasn’t an issue for now, you would deal with it later. all that existed to you was this moment and the man before you, as he clouded your mind and drank you up, your soul pouring right through you and into him, for him to hold, to love, to cherish. and cherish you he did.

it was like a stage, dark and empty minus the large spotlight shining on you, and only you. the audience was empty, spare for fox, watching you and encouraging your performance as a heavenly choir of moans tumbled from within you, to which his tongue danced in time to.

his mouth worked expertly against you, and your hand tugged at his hair, mewling and moaning, all this behavior just egging him on more.

and then he pulled away, chin slick with a mixture of his saliva and your arousal, and you whined at the loss of contact, eyes flashing open and looking downwards at him, confusion scribbled all over your face. you had thought the teasing was over.

“christ,” he chuckled at your expression, licking the taste of you off from his lips. “are you that desperate or am i just that good?”

“why’d you stop?” you whined, ignoring his gloating and teasing. usually you might feel embarrassed, but right now all you could focus on was the missing sensation of his mouth, and the panging emptiness within you, and his expression softened at seeing your pained one.

“relax princess,” he pressed a kiss to your inner thigh and you whimpered. “i wanted to know if you could hold yourself up okay? i want to use my fingers.” your insides pulsed and your gut clenched at the mention, and how he said it so casually. wordlessly, and quickly, you rearranged yourself into a better position to hold yourself up, his hands slithering down around you, and up your inner thighs.

“good girl,” he praised succinctly, patting your inner thigh gently as he did, the heat on your cheeks burning deeper at his words. his long slender fingers then traveled up towards you and his when they reached their destination, he began moving them in circular motions over and near your clit as you sucked a breath in between your teeth. they moved slow at first, and then gradually began to pick up some speed, stroking up and down, before his fingers fully moved down, parting your folds before slipping inside, slowly starting with just one, pushing inside and then pulling it out, repeating this process teasingly, knowing just how to get you going.

“you’re so beautiful, so needy for me, huh?” he teased, and you wriggled in response, unable to create a coherent sentence, so you opted to let a singular word flow from your lips.

“more.”

he hummed, and then suddenly it was two fingers, and a string of lewd noises and blasphemous curses came from you in response. you were drunk on him, on everything about him, his words, his actions, his smell, his taste, and oh how that thought made you desperately want his mouth and his tongue back on you, tasting you.

his fingers slipped out of you again, slick and shiny, and you looked at him with your mouth dropped open from pleasure, and a protest almost escaped from you before you witnessed him licking his fingers, like he could read your mind, and for a second you wondered if he actually could. your arousal coated his tongue, before he slipped both his fingers slowly back inside, gingerly picking up speed. your eyes closed, relishing in the sensations he was providing you and you were unable to control the soft moans that vibrated from the back of your throat.

“you sound so pretty,” his voice was soft as he spoke. “so pretty just for me, hmm?” he was taking expert care of you, as if that was his divine purpose. he felt that it was, for you were kind enough to let him see you like this, and it was so so much better than anything his mind had ever fantasized about.

he pressed a few more wet kisses to your thighs, and then just as suddenly his mouth wanted to resume it’s place, and so a bit of spit dribbled from his lips down onto you, adding a bit more wetness to the situation, before his tongue resumed its place, supping at you with unequivocal thirst. his fingers were coated in your wetness and he began curling them up and attacking one spot in particular, earning a whine and a sharp intake of breath from you.

his mouth and lips found their way back up towards your clit, pulling it into his mouth and then letting it go just as suddenly. but then it was back again, and he gently sucked on it, lips soft and warm as he darted his tongue over and around you, and you couldn’t help the surprised and wanton noises you created in return.

your eyes fluttered open to see that his were closed, and you looked down at him, watching his every move, pulsing as you sucked in a breath. the roles were now a bit reversed, you were still the receiver, but he was now the performer, dazzling you with his magical talents. his fingers moved miraculously inside of you causing your thoughts to fade away, like some silly card trick. his sleight of hand was wonderful, his fingers and his mouth knowing exactly how to please you.

“sh-, i’m-,” you panted out, hips grinding against him. his other hand slid back up to hold you and offer more stability, and your walls clenched around his fingers in a way that made him hum against you, sending vibrations throughout.

his mouth pulled away again, jaw beginning to ache from the way he was hungrily feasting upon you, but his fingers remained and he watched you pant and shudder before him, your eyes now closed once more, too focused on the sensations he was providing you.

“yeah?” he asked, encouraging you to use your words. he loved when you were vocal about what he was doing to you, telling him how good you felt or even when all your brain could do was conjure up unintelligible noises. and he loved watching you like this. your parted lips, heavy breaths, eyes scrunched close as you bathed in the way he was making you feel.

“fuck, keep going,” you whined, pleading almost, as your arms and muscles strained, holding up your weight as your hips undulated against his hand. you would be afraid of toppling from your position on the counter, if the only thought you were able to think about wasn’t fox and his hands and his mouth and the sensations he was providing you. just him, him, him, nothing else mattered at the moment, your brain too clouded by pleasure and your impending orgasm that was bubbling beneath the surface. all because of him.

“oh i wouldn’t dream of stopping…. again,” he smirked, able to tell you were close. if you weren’t so enraptured by the moment, you would’ve laughed at him, but you were hyper focused on how good you felt. how good he was making you feel. he swapped his fingers for his mouth, but not before telling you to watch. he wanted to drink you up as you came on his tongue, which he was now fucking you with, and he wanted you to watch him do it. you moaned loudly, sweat pouring from your brow, eyes fluttering open as you watched him between bated breaths.

he hummed against you, and you fought the urge to throw your head back, pleasure washing over you, vibrations coursing through your body as you were ready to come undone.

and that you did, your body tensing and your grip becoming more harsh, grabbing at his hair and holding him in place as you rode out your high. your head threw back, mouth agape, thighs squeezing together around him tightly like a vicd, and a rush shot through your body like a bolt of lightning and you pulsed, walls contracting. his mouth kept working against you, coaxing and guiding you through your orgasm until your body and muscles began to relax and you released a breath you didn’t know you were holding, along with releasing him from both your hands and thighs grip, cheeks reddening in embarrassment as your brain began to slowly process everything.

you used your hand that was holding him in place to now gently push him away from you, feeling overly sensitive, and as he pulled away, his chin was still slick and jaw still aching as he regained his own breath, breaths that slipped past his pink and puffy lips. he stood, leaning forward to enrapture your lips in a kiss, the taste of you still lingering all over him.

“sorry.” you squeaked out, after breaking away from the kiss, still reeling from the effects of your orgasm.

he hummed, “for what?” he really didn’t know what you had to be sorry for, for feeling good? he’d wanted you to, he wanted to take care of you and wanted to make you cum. and he had many times in the past, so what was there to be apologetic for now? he figured it was your nerves, or your own embarrassment rushing to the surface, so he rubbed your side reassuringly. there was absolutely nothing you needed to apologize for, and he really couldn’t think of what it would be.

“suffocating you?” you questioned, as if it was supposed to be something so obvious. and he laughed, a big laugh, like really? that was it? he wasn’t laughing at you, so much so as the apparent absurdity of your statement. as if being suffocated between your thighs wasn’t something he’d enjoy.

after recovering from his laughing fit, he cupped your cheek, smiling softly when he saw your confused expression and the way you couldn’t help yourself from leaning into his touch.

“baby,” he kissed you once more, lips lingering against yours for a second before pulling away to look into your eyes. he opened his mouth to say something else, more reassurances, but you cut him off with another kiss.

“‘s my turn to make you feel good now?” you questioned, drunkenly in love with the man before you. your hand traced down his chest, past his belly button and down his happy trail, fingertips dipping below his waistband, but he grabbed your wrist stopping you from going any further.

you looked up at him, once again confused. did he not want you to touch him?

“not here love,” and then you smiled as he helped you down from the counter top, rescuing the princess from her tower and holding your wrist again to lead you towards the bedroom, leaving your underwear behind, forgotten about for now, along with the two cups of tea you had prepared earlier that had now gone cold.

[eriquin]

Time Travel AU part 5

I'm going to catch up to what I've written already really fast if I keep posting it like this. But AO3 is down so into Tumblr it goes.

(master post)

Part 5:

He caught up with Nancy after second period. She was at her locker, and she gave him such a sunny smile when she saw him that he almost tripped over his own feet. It was not the look of someone who remembered the horrors they went through, and he wondered if there was a way to keep her looking like that. 

“Hey,” he said, drumming his hand lightly on the locker next to her. 

“Hey yourself,” she said. “Did you get your English assignment done?” 

Steve blinked a few times. He hadn’t even thought about looking at his homework. He vaguely remembered that he and Nancy had first started interacting because his English teacher had gotten her to tutor him for a couple of sessions and bring up his essay grades. It was a favor to the basketball coach, to make sure he’d have the grades to stay on the team. They’d hit it off immediately.

“I gotta admit, I haven’t,” Steve said. “When is that due again?” 

Nancy gave him a look that was both exasperated and charmed. He had missed that look. “Thursday,” she said. She poked him in the chest. “You’d better get a good grade on it. My reputation as a tutor is on the line.” 

“I will, I promise,” he said, folding his hands together. “But first, I wanted to ask you something.”

“Okay?” She pulled her books from her locker and shut the door. “So ask?”

“It’s... It’ll actually take longer than we have between periods to give you all the information. Are you free at lunch?” 

“Sure, I guess?” Nancy said. “Fourth period?”

“Great, yeah.” Steve nodded and turned to get to his next class. 

“Wait, aren’t you going to tell me what it’s about?” 

Steve gave her his most innocent look. “I will. Fourth period!” He gave her a mock salute as he backed away, but turned around too fast and almost ran into someone. He jumped to avoid her, and stopped short, staring at the girl’s face

Barbara Holland stared right back before letting out an annoyed huff and rolling her eyes. “Excuse me,” she said as she elbowed past him to her locker, which was right next to Nancy’s. 

Steve turned and continued to stare at her before he realized how weird he was being. He caught Nancy’s eye, and she looked completely confused. “Sorry,” he whispered, practically running off to recover some semblance of dignity before the bell rang. 

He ignored the lecture during his third period class. His seat was in the back, and he brought out his Upside Down notebook to make some updates. It looked enough like he was taking notes for the class that the teacher thought he was paying attention, and he was free to make his updates. Nancy was acting like she didn’t remember any of the future, but that might just have been because he was, too. He would have to talk to her in private to figure out for sure. 

Fourth period rolled around. Getting in line for his lunch was depressingly familiar, and he always had enough in his wallet to cover it. When he got out into the cafeteria with his tray, he looked around for Nancy. She was sitting with a group of sophomore girls, including Barb, on the other side of the room. Her back was to him, but he knew the slope of her shoulders and the curl of her hair. He got halfway through the cafeteria when he heard Tommy calling to him. 

Steve turned around to look at him and Carol at their regular table. He’d walked right past it, and they looked confused. The rest of the table was empty, like it always was. No one sat with them unless they were invited specifically. Steve sighed and went back, but only to drop off his tray. “Sorry,” he said. “I need to go talk to Nancy about something. Don’t eat all my fries.” He knew this guaranteed that his fries would be gone by the time he got back. 

When he got to Nancy’s table, he leaned over the back of her chair and stole one of her chips. “Hey Nance,” he said. “Got a minute?”

She laughed and shook her head. “I guess,” she said. He took a step back to let her get up, and she gestured at the chip bag as she stood. “Should I bring these with me? Do you need a snack?” 

“I mean, I’ll eat ‘em if you don’t want them,” he said. She scoffed and left them behind, and he followed her out into the hallway.

“So, what’s this about?” she asked.

“Okay. So, this is going to sound weird. I wanted to talk to you about...” He hesitated. Even though he’d practiced this in his head, it sounded weird to say it out loud. “The future?”

She stared at him, definitely thinking that he was going crazy, and waited for him to elaborate. When he didn’t, she asked, “What does that mean? Like, next weekend? Christmas? College?” She giggled a little. “Are you wondering if we’re going to live on a space station someday?” 

“No, more like. The next couple of months. Or years. Like, our future.”

“Our future?” she asked. She gave him that little smile that was halfway between charmed and confused. “Like, you and me? Is this you asking me out?” 

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Not exactly?” he said, though he immediately regretted it when Nancy looked disappointed. “Not that I’m opposed to it, but that wasn’t what I was asking. See...” He sighed. “It’s going to sound really weird. It’s just that I had this bizarre dream about the future, and you were in it. And I was wondering if you’d ever dreamt something like that.”

She raised her eyebrows and gave him that smile again. “So you’re dreaming about our future, huh?” she asked. “What was it like?” 

“I mean, it was, uh.” Steve scratched his head. If Nancy remembered anything, she surely would be saying something about it now, wouldn’t she? “It was kind of dark, actually. Like, there was something dangerous going on in town and you and me were both involved.”

She looked confused again, but just for a second. “Oh, you really meant a dream, huh? Wow. Uh, no? I’ve never had a dream like that before.” 

Steve nodded. “Yeah, okay. I told you it was weird. I guess I just wondered if you’d had it too, then maybe it would mean something.” He brushed his hair back and looked towards the cafeteria. “I should let you get back to lunch.” 

“No, I want to hear about your weird dream,” Nancy said. “Come on, tell me. It sounds interesting. How did you know it was the future?”

Steve hesitated. He had been thinking constantly about what he’d tell the people who’d gotten involved before if they didn’t remember, but he hadn’t come to a good conclusion. “It was just... it was weird. Like, I know it was the future because I was out of high school? Maybe? but there were terrible things going on and we had to run around dealing with things. Like, monsters or something.” 

Nancy nodded slowly and looked like she understood. “Oh, I get it. Like how sometimes, in a dream you know how things are supposed to be even if it doesn't make sense. You just know.”

“Yeah, exactly,” he lied. 

She brightened up a little, smiling like they had a little secret. “But I was there? Were you protecting me from the monsters?” 

Steve snorted. “Kind of the other way around,” he said. “You had a shotgun and I was just following your lead.”

This surprised her but she also looked delighted by it. She started to laugh. “You were definitely just dreaming there,” she said. “I’ve never even held a gun, much less a shotgun.”

“Yeah, but I bet you’d be good at it,” he said. “Anyway, there was more to it, but you’re right. It was just a weird dream. I’ll let you get back now.” 

“You could’ve told me about this between classes,” she said. “I mean, it’s weird but it’s not that weird.” 

“Nah, I’ve got a reputation to uphold,” he joked. “Can’t go talking about dreams and monsters with a pretty girl in the hallway.”

Nancy blushed. “Do you want to meet again to go over your essay? I’m free tomorrow afternoon.” 

Steve gulped. He could use that as a chance to convince Nancy that there was something dangerous coming, and that she should help him, but he wasn’t sure what he’d be able to say to get her to believe him. He also didn’t remember what he had scheduled for the next day after class. “Yeah, I think I could make that,” he said. “Remind me tomorrow?”

“Sure,” she said, still blushing. She walked ahead of him on their way back into the cafeteria, and he could hear her friends quizzing her about him when he passed her table. 

When he got back to his table, he saw that his fries were gone, as expected. Tommy and Carol looked smug about it. They had left him a slice of meatloaf. He reached over and stole Tommy’s pudding cup, which was unopened. Tommy squawked about it, but didn’t do anything to stop him.

“Are you sure you want to be eating pudding for lunch, Stevie?” Carol teased. “Don’t you want to keep your trim figure for Miss Nancy?” 

“Nah, she likes me for my curves,” Steve shot back. He stretched his feet out under the table and propped them up on the seat between Tommy and Carol. They both cackled at him and Tommy shoved his feet back down. 

“So did you ask her out?” Tommy asked. “Are we gonna have to put up with little Miss Priss this weekend?”

Steve frowned and shook his head. “No,” he said, remembering more and more about this time period. His two closest friends were hot and cold about Nancy even when he was warming up to her. It started even before things had gone sideways. He’d forgotten that, or never given much thought to why that was. Had they been like this with every girl he’d been interested in? He couldn’t remember. He dug into the pudding cup. It was tapioca, which Tommy and Carol both hated, which meant he’d gotten it with Steve in mind. It made him smile a little. 

Tommy had told Carol about the bet Steve had made with his dad, and she asked what he was going to do with the money. He shrugged it off, said he had no plans. They got to talking about plans for the week, and the weekend. Steve mostly stayed quiet, listening to them chat about other students and what they’d been getting up to. He finished his meatloaf and sat back, letting his mind wander. 

“Hey, you’ve been quieter than usual,” Tommy said. “Still thinking about getting into Nancy’s pantsies?” 

Carol snickered and rolled her eyes. “Ugh, that was awful.”

Steve shook his head. “Yeah, don’t be crude, Tommy,” he said. 

“I meant the rhyme,” Carol said. “He can be crude as long as he doesn’t try to be clever. He’s too dumb for that. It’s literally painful.” 

Steve snickered. “Hey, do we have anything going on after school tomorrow?” 

Tommy and Carol couldn’t think of anything, so he took that as a good sign. He spent the rest of the school day trying to think of a way to approach Jonathan and ask him if he remembered anything. There was a chance that he did and just hadn’t tried to talk to Steve about it because they weren’t even remotely friends at this point. It would have been weird for Jonathan to talk to him first. 

By the end of the day, he still hadn’t thought of anything. He saw Jonathan’s car in the parking lot, parked in its regular spot. It brought back unpleasant memories of standing next to it with his friends and waiting to ambush him about his photographs. He could try to meet him there after school, but not today because Tommy and Carol were already standing by his car, waiting for him. He didn’t want them to see him talking to Jonathan. They already thought of Jonathan as a freak and they saw them talking, it would put a target on his back. Steve didn’t know why he’d ever thought that was acceptable behavior for people who called themselves his friends. But on the other hand, he didn’t know how to confront them about it now.

[axailslink]

Hi!!!!!!!!

Can I request a Jamie Harrison x Black fem! Reader where the reader is a alt black girl that likes to play bass I literally got inspired by this https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTR4tjNVQ/ from the movie Wendell & Wild

Hope you have a wonderful day! 🫶🏾🫶🏾🫶🏾

Trouble

Jamie Harrison x black alt FEM reader

Summary: You're playing at the club one night and Jamie finds herself in love with your whole vibe.

Jamie watches as you play with your guitar and your fingers lightly drum on the side of it as you take a sip of your drink. You've already performed but you never leave before you have to she approaches you and you glance her up and down. "You're different" you down your drink "how so? My style or my smile?" She laughs as you cheese at her and she shakes your head "I expected you to be mean..." She looks at your guitar "why so?" She glances back at you your smile wide as she takes in everything about you your pretty smile, your dramatic makeup, and your interesting choice of clothing. "Everything... You play as if someone will take your items from you and you look..." You smile wider now "I look mean?" She nods a bit "but not really you look mean as in I'd like to be as mean as you" you look at her up and down "you look soft cute but soft" you say gently grabbing her hand and letting her touch the guitar "it doesn't bite she's a gift" she gently lets her hand glide over the guitar and your smile never leaves her face. "You're amazing playing bass like that" you shrug "that's a learned talent I could teach you" she smiles "I play acoustic" you nod and look around "it's getting boring dance with me" you get up and grab her hand gently leading her to the floor your other hand still holding on to your guitar she smile as you let your ringed finger touch her face. "If you like how I play bass you'll love how I dance" as the music in the background starts to drown out everything but you and her you smile and let yourself focus on her. The way she seems so taken with your beauty she's quick to let her hands roam and you don't mind. You know you're hard to not touch with so much beauty and so many shiny items how could someone keep their hands off of you.

Your night doesn't end with a dance it ends with her sneaking you in her room and locking the door "so group home?" She shrugs "could we not talk about it?" You nod understanding and placing your guitar on her bed "so if I were to kiss you how would I not mess up your lipstick?" You laugh at her forwardness but you approach her as her hands find their way to your loose fitted pants that hang around your waist you glance down quickly but return your gaze back to her face. You press a gentle kiss to her lips as you unbuckle your studded belt causing your pants to fall onto your hips revealing your pretty black underwear. You gently wrap your belt into your hand as you use it to pull her closer. "Its matte lipstick it's not going anywhere" she smiles and initiates this kiss as you gently push her toward her bed and move your guitar as she sits on the edge and you straddle her lap. "Don't be shy now" as if testing the words you just spoke she lets her hand climb into your jeans gently squeezing your ass. You pull away to look at her just for a moment and smile. "You're cute" she laughs and shakes her head "what are you talking about?" You smile "risking getting in trouble I thought I was the trouble maker. The truth is it's always the quiet ones." She smiles and nods "maybe."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jamie rolls over on her side and reaches for her cigarettes but stops when she sees your guitar on the floor with a note "feeling like risking some trouble? You should return it tonight at 8:00 same place" with heart written in lipstick oh you are trouble for Jamie but she likes trouble and she's been a bit too good recently.

A/n: alright there are so many types of alt black women so yes mine has a grill mind your business 😁. I actually enjoyed writing this because I used to be alt but I wasn't really good at the whole makeup part 😔. Also we gone act like Jamie's birthday just happened because I want to thanks. Also I am so sorry love I just had no inspiration for this fic so it took me a while...like twenty days a while I'm so sorry love.

[nakachuchu]

Into the Woods | Hayakawa Aki

Chapter 12 of the Fairy Tales & Myths series

SYNOPSIS: In a world where people were descendants of folktale characters, there were a number of characters who were unlike the tales in the Book.

READER: female

WORDS: 1.6k

WRITTEN: 03/11/2023

NOTE: This is for @poohbea 's Once Upon a Collab event! I was gonna do a enemies hate sex thing and then it just turned dark. Be warned: Murder is involved!

"Alice," you called out, a bright smile on your face as you floated midair.

Aki ignored you as he usually did.

"Alice," you said again, disappearing for a moment, only to appear in front of him.

He stopped walking forward, a slightly annoyed and displeased expression on his face as you called him by his ancestor's first name.

"What."

"I'm bored," you said. "What are you up to?"

"Going to work. Makima has a mission for me. There are Devils to kill."

"Hmm. Alice so whipped for the Red Queen? How unbecoming of Alice's legacy."

"That was over a century ago. We're not our ancestors," he retorted, moving around you to continue walking.

You rolled your eyes. "Regardless, let me come too."

"You don't work for Public Safety," he retorted as you levitated around him.

Your fingers brushed against his shoulders, trailing to the back of his neck as your tail tapped his hand. He ignored your advances as he crossed the road, watching out for the blind mice and drum frogs.

He hated how much his body craved your touch. He wouldn't have disliked it so much if you weren't so smug, but there was nothing neither he nor you could do about it. Once a Cheshire, always a Cheshire.

You pouted as he ignored you, and with a loud and defeated sigh, you dropped down from the air and landed gently on your feet. You stopped at the end of the crosswalk, watching Aki walk away in the direction of his work.

"Well, I guess it's time I go to work too," you said, turning on your heel to walk in the opposite direction, heading towards The Woods.

The Woods was usually home to woodland creatures and townspeople. Aki worked in Atlantica, where all the technology and safety protocols were. There was nothing special that differentiated the different avenues: The Woods, The Desert Kingdom, Atlantica, Neverland, and more. They all looked the same, but they served different purposes.

To put simply, Aki was in law enforcement and you worked in the entertainment district.

"The Woods?" Aki questioned.

"Yes," said Makima. "Law enforcement have been finding men dead once they leave the Wonderland strip club."

He nodded. "I'll have it done."

As he left her office to head to the Wonderland strip club in The Woods, he couldn't help but worry about you. You were one of the strip club's best strippers and you were in the middle of a what would soon be a bloodbath.

Accordion owls flew by, honking out a lousy tune as they whizzed past Aki.

He watched them, wondering what sort of business venture had brought them to The Woods. The only thing that came to mind was the old saying, The Woods are full of ghosts. Aki pushed the thought away as he approached the strip club where you worked.It was far from run-down. It was newly renovated, enticing residents to sneak a peek at their high end strippers.

The place was packed with people. Tis the season, they said. It was New Year’s Eve and everyone was out to celebrate. Some were drunk, some were on drugs, and some were just looking for a good time.

Aki stopped in his tracks when he saw you working the pole. You were wearing a pair of sheer stockings that showed off your suspenders and a low-cut top that showed off your cleavage.

'This is going to be bad,' he thought to himself. "Really bad," he muttered.

Once you spotted him, you traded spots with a co-worker and made your way to the floor.

"Hey Alice," you said, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. "Miss me already?"

He stiffened at your embrace, his body telling you how much he missed you. He could feel your breasts press against his chest as you pressed against him. His hands itched at the sleeves of his shirt, longing to feel your skin beneath them. He snapped out of it and cleared his throat, stepping away from your embrace.

"I'm here for work purposes."

You rolled your eyes. "Obviously. There's no way you'd come for entertainment. Do what you must, then. I'm getting back to work."

He nodded, understanding your tone. He needed to concentrate, but it was hard when all sorts of drugs were floating in the air in neon colors and swirls as the air conditioning circulated it around the entire building.

The Caterpillar's drugs were the top selling drug on the market, branded as the Rainbow Worm. When mixed and on its own, it erupted into rainbow smoke.

Aki shook his head slightly and walked around the strip club warily, keeping an eye out for the Devil responsible for the murders.

Then, his eyes gravitated to you again, in the corner of the room with the dark shadows as a man felt you up.

You could handle yourself. You could turn invisible and leave this stranger behind, but you didn't. You enticed him - seduced him - and he followed after you as you walked past a wave of stringed beads above a doorframe.

Aki followed after you, pushing past the beads. The hallway was pounding with lights and dancing mushrooms. People were making out against the walls and groping each other. It was a madhouse. You turned a corner, and by the time Aki caught up, he reached a dead end.

He hated these sketchy, twisted buildings. They were full of traps and secret rooms. There was only a mirror at the end of the corner. There was a smell of musk and vanilla and something else that made his head spin. He stepped closer to the mirror and traced the mirror with his finger before fully pressing his palm against it.

His hand sunk through the mirror and he pushed against it to walk through. He was in another room, a bigger room with a larger mirror. The room was the size of a barn, but it felt claustrophobic. The walls were covered with dark red velvet and there were two large chandeliers hanging from the high ceiling. There were multiple doors that all looked identical, surrounding him.

One door was cracked open. Aki approached it quietly and reached out to open it. When he poked his head through, the light from the room flashed him.

A spinning disco ball was hanging, sparkling and glittering. Particles of light hit certain spots, then disappeared until the disco ball spun back around.

The light splashed against your face as you locked eyes with Aki. His eyes widened as he soaked in the sight of you kneeling by the man from before, covered in blood with a knife held to your throat.

The man was dead. There was no saving him.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

"It's not her turn," you said.

The voice was you, but something was off. It wasn't your normal tone. Something about the pitch and the inflection was off.

"You're not Y/N."

"I am myself, yet not quite me. I may be false, or I may be free. I'm unique, yet just like the rest. A mirror image, but not quite the best. I'm authentic, yet not quite true. What am I?"

Aki licked his lips. "Madness."

You smiled widely, the corners of your lips stretching far and wide like your ancestor. You withdrew the knife from your throat and stabbed it in the man's body.

Madness was an affliction associated specifically with people who had the blood of Wonderlands. It was a curse passed it down through their families for centuries.

"I'm sorry," you whispered. "I can't control her."

"Y/N," Aki said softly.

He had never seen you like this before. You were usually so strong and wild, but you seemed so broken and meek now. He had never seen you look so vulnerable. He reached out to caress your cheek and you let him. Your skin was hot and soft and he could feel your tears against his skin. You were so small and fragile now.

Now that he knew who was responsible for all those murders, he couldn't just bring you into Public Safety as a criminal.

While he was loyal to the Red Queen, he would never betray you. The two of you used to sleep together in a crib before his parents died. You were best friends in middle school before drifting apart in high school, only to come back in a whirlwind of hot breaths and love bruises.

You were his other half. Madness be damned. He wasn't going to lose you again. He pulled you close and kissed you gently on the lips.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Everything will be fine."

"How can you be sure?"

But as you looked into his eyes, you knew everything would be fine. The heavy, purple swirls that encompassed his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

"I'll take care of the bodies from now on," he said.

The smell of sweet, cloying honeysuckle filled the air after your shower. Aki took you to his apartment in Atlantica after he took care of the body. The two of you sat on the edge of his bed in a comfortable silence. He leaned in and pressed his lips to yours.

It was soft and comforting. He felt like home. It had been so long since the two of you could be this comfortable with each other again.

He pulled away from your lips and stared into your eyes. "I'll take care of you from now on."

He meant it. He would make sure you were safe. You were his life now. You were his world.

You smiled.

His smile widened and his eyes crinkled with the corners of his mouth.

"Welcome home, Y/N."

"Welcome back, Aki."

[dilettantereviews]

Here's my 2022 Best Of! Yup, that's right, 2022. Better late than never, huh?

Rico Nasty- Intrusive

I heard good things about Rico Nasty for years but her other projects were a little too repetitive for me to fully commit or enjoy her work. This mixtape sees her replacing her industrial rap sound with a more varied approach. She sings over drum and bass and acoustic music. If you enjoyed Princess Nokia’s Metallic Butterfly or Azealia Banks’ Broke with Expensive Taste, then I recommend this album for you. My favorite songs are Messy, Easy, and Focus on Me.

Sasami- Squeeze

After her work in Cherry Glazer and her 2019 solo debut, Sasami finally (somewhat) broke through with this album and it’s no wonder why. Mixing influences as varied as Sheryl Crow and industrial, Sasami showed us about opening up your heart or wanting to destroy someone else’s. My favorites are The Greatest and Skin a Rat.

Charli XCX- Crash

As her first proper album since 2019’s Charli, this album had a lot of expectations placed upon it since True Romance is her best received official album. Fortunately, it all worked out for her and for us. This album sounds like you are scrolling through the Dance Dance Revolution song selecting screen around 2005 with songs you don’t realize you know until you hear it again years later. My favorites are Constant Repeat, Used to Know Me, Selfish Girl, Good Ones, Baby, and of course, Beg for You. 

Beyonce- Renaissance

This album was a victory lap for Beyonce. Not that she slacked off this era, but after creating two innovative video albums, Beyonce wanted to have a more upbeat album after the pandemic. As someone who prefers her uptempos (in a fun club kid way, like Haunted, 7/11, Formation, Six Inch, and Partition instead of the stan wars “go back to Dr. Luke!!111” way), I’m here for it. My favorites include All Up in Your Mind and Pure Honey.

SZA- SOS

I have a general policy where if someone takes over 4 years to release their next project, I develop some kind of object impermanence about them. Not even maliciously, but for every Sky Ferreira (side note: This was written when we still thought Don’t Forget was a part of an era) or My Bloody Valentine, there’s a synthpop band from 2016 that stubbornly sits on the second page of my Last.FM with 189 plays. And I like SZA! CTRL got me though 2017 and 2018 but I completely forgot her rerelease and in between singles until I was preparing this review. So when I heard she was releasing a 20+ track album I was skeptical. It turned out to be great. I enjoy the developed and detailed instruments and her personal lyrics. My favorite songs are Kill Bill, Blind, Shirt and Gone Girl.

Fontaines DC- Skinty Fia

Fontaines DC had a well deserved bigger break out in 2022. I don’t really have a thing to say about this album but I like the way they mix post punk music with a mix of their own Irish culture and gothic and industrial sounds. What could’ve just been a couple of lads at the pub is a unique and informative look at the band and their culture. U2 and Inhaler are shaking. My favorite songs are Jackie Down the Line, Skinty Fia, and How Cold Love Is.

Vero- Unsoothing Interior

I learned about Vero on Popjustice… at least 5 years ago? For a while, it seemed like they would drop a single heavily influenced by Poe and disappear without a follow up or any momentum. I understand it’s hard for new artists to make things work logistically, but they even had repetitive cover art so we couldn’t just joke that there was a wait between the EP and debut. That’s why I was so confused when the album was dropped in 2022. Hailing all the way from Sweden, Vero has vocals that remind me of Shirley Manson and Kim Gordon with post punk music I heard NPR describe (someone else) with the term “fleabag-core”. My favorite songs are Sex and Me and TV shows and Exit 2.

Coco and Clair Clair- Sexy

People always say nostalgia does too much heavy lifting in music now, but the right references can truly justify the most Tweet Deck derivative works. Coco and Clair Clair, who I was very surprised to learn are from Atlanta instead of the UK, have a very retro inspired album that could’ve just been lost in the hyperpop Y2K space with everyone else but they have a different reference pool that elevates them. Hypnotic girl group whispery vocals over whispery chillwave and drum n bass beats truly take me back to the person I was in 2011-2012. If you have a Tumblr photoblog with a convoluted layout that only showed pictures and no captions, this album is for you. If you keep up with McBling depop, this album is for you. If you ever described LAMB by Gwen Stefani as a hip hop album, then this album is for you. I would recommend this album for fans of Kitty and Niki and the Dove. My favorite songs from it are Bad Lil Vibe, Pop Star, and Be With U.

Alvvays- Blue Rev

I didn’t really listen to them before this and I only knew them for the …unique spelling of their band name and a Tumblr post that heavily implied that they should be kept in 2014. Well, this album should put all of their critics to shame. This album was recorded after the band lost their old demos and instruments in a robbery and they were still able to record this album. Pairing dreamy landscapes over fuzzy guitars, Molly Rankin’s confessional lyrics deal with the unexpected nostalgia of running into your ex’s family members in public (a sort of Dan Fogelberg moment for our generation) or justifying a creative career. Besides Pharmacist and Easy on your Own, I recommend Very Online Guy, a leftfield song about male internet behaviors (a self drag, but I want to see how many men wrote about that song and the album). If you only know them from Marry Me, Archie (a song I would personally not leave in a time capsule or box set for indie pop music from 2010-2014), I strongly suggest that you give this album a chance. Fun fact: In addition to being a great meeting spot for coanchors to meet each other, Good Morning America also has a year end best of list and put this as their #1 album. A few years ago, they put the solo project of Soul Coughing’s frontman’s project. So maybe GMA is our new Pitchfork, NME, and Spin Magazine combined (side note: I wrote this before the Pitchfork reshuffle happened, oops).

Shygirl- Nymph

Shygirl has finally released her long awaited debut after releasing her stellar debut. This time, she ditches the electronic and abrasive sound of her 2018 EP and enters her Manny Santos sensual R&B era while still sounding futuristic. Firefly is a song that sounds like it was a Britney 2001 deep cut dusted off and released in 2172. Nike is my other personal stand out.

Hatchie- Giving the World Away

On her sophomore album, Hatchie continues her dream pop and shoegaze sound and expands into some darker palettes that wouldn’t be out of place on the altronica playlist. If that album transported you into a daydream, this album is a moody walk in the rain. My favorites are This Enchanted, Till We Run Out of Air, and Giving the World Away.

Soccer Mommy- Sometimes, Forever

This was sort of a new sound album for Soccer Mommy, with a little more focus on the production. Working with OPN, she had a darker, hazier, more detail oriented production. My favorites include Unholy Affliction, Don’t Ask Me, Feel it All the Time, and Darkness Forever (which gave me Portishead’s second album vibes). This album is more Madder Rose than Massive Attack but you should still give it a shot.

Momma- Household Name

Nostalgic guitar based indie rock that sounds right out of 1994. Reverb guitars, harmonics, and shoegaze pedals. Recommended if you like Siamese Dream by Smashing Pumpkins or Bully’s debut. Speeding 72, Lucky, Brave and No Stage are my favorites. 

Luna Li-  Duality

Psychedelic alternative R&B with a chamber/art/baroque pop edge. I love how she mixes her vulnerability on songs like Flower with strong guitar moments like Alone but not Lonely and What You’re Thinking. This album feels like if you mixed Kali Uchis with Kadjha Bonet. Recommended if you have only used emojis as captions.

Kilo Kish- American Gurl

Kilo Kish’s last official album was released back in 2016, but her pair of consecutive EP’s that came out in 2018 and 2019 were a more focused and cohesive electronic sound. On this album, she went back to her unique existential pop with irreverent Adult Swim vibes. With her kitchen sink production, detached vocals, and quirky irreverent sound, this album has a lot of reasons to not work but somehow puts everything together and keeps you overstimulated like a TikTok video. Recommendations include Choice Cowboy, New Tricks, and American Gurl. Recommended if you like Santigold or Imani Coppola.

Vitesse X- Us Ephemeral

Growing up, I hated electronic music. Did I listen to it or seek it out specifically? No, not in the slightest. But it was just annoying as I saw my beloved Radio Disney pop rock acts just be seen as cringe as what I call ‘unts unts’ music went on the rise. Also, I just thought the fans were annoying. Maybe it was just in my community, but there were a lot of teen DJs who just got jobs hosting or playing cultural events and sweet 16s and posting pretentious memes that made me roll my eyes. I’ve never seen a MLM girl in real life, but I’ve seen DJs talk about how school is just there to mold you and as a DJ, they can be their own boss. Also, just growing up in the teen club/4 loko/Ed Hardy era just made me think it was all try hard “OH, you’ve never been to a festival?’ stuff. But eventually, Charli XCX helped open my mind to new electronic acts while trip hop and deep house helped open me up to older electronic genres. Then I had an “if it’s retro/ironic it’s okay” mentality but now I can regularly like electronic music. That leads us to Vitesse X. Her art deco style of electronics invokes the sleek future, through her stage name and hi tech titles. Is she making a concept album about how technology was supposed to bring us together but is bringing us apart? Is it a scifi story? Did she promise us a video for each song that made a movie but she stopped and hoped we would forget about it? No! She’s making music you could hear at Zara’s, in your car, or even at a party or club. In this age of hot takes, think pieces, and more, a concept like nepobaby can go from a fun internet only in joke to a “reclaimed” term that loses all meaning. Vitesse X helps prove that sometimes, saying less really is more. My favorites are Potential Energy, Centrifuge Me, and Us Ephemeral.

Piri and Tommy- Froge.mp3

The drum n bass duo that came out of the blue and right back into it. Words is the best positive motivational affirmation dance song since Show Me Love by Robin S. I also like Silver Lining and On & on. It looks like we’re not getting a new project from them, they split up and now they’re going to ruin all of our Last.fm charts because they each get credited separately. 

They Hate Change- Finally, New

I feel like Drum n Bass has been on the rise since Princess Nokia’s Metallic Butterfly went on streaming for the last few years, but it had been kind of mixed with other electronic sounds like hyperpop or UK garage so it was an afterthought. They Hate Change overcame that. Rapping over Drum n bass, the Tampa duo helps showcase something cool and forward thinking from Florida on their label debut. I recommend them if you like Outkast or Big Fish Theory from Vince Staples. My favorite songs are Who’s Next, Little Brother, and Perm.

Foushee- Softcore

I hate to make a Mean Girls reference in 2024 (this was another review I had written in winter 2023, before I knew there was a movie adaptation of the Mean Girls musical coming out), but this album reminds me of the Halloween party scene where Cady shows up in an “ugly” costume while everyone is wearing cute costumes and she is confused. That is how this album feels for alternative R&B. While now everyone with a slowed down drum beat gets an alternative R&B genre tag, but this is truly “alternative”, mixing slinky R&B vocals over guitars and yelling. Even if it doesn’t always work (several songs are under 2 minutes), you can definitely admire the attempts. Behind SZA, Foushee is the second best R&B album from a New Jerseyan in 2022 (sorry, 070 Shake). My favorite songs are I’m Fine and Simmer Down. Listen if you want an internet poisoned pop star but Doja has gone too far for you. 

Ravyn Lenae- Hypnos

After her stellar 2018 EP, Ravyn finally followed up with her debut album and it was worth the wait. Her airy, hypnotic vocals still sound fresh and the collaborations don’t take away from the sound at all. My favorites are 3D and Venom.

Sudan Archives- Natural Brown Prom Queen

Sudan Archives made it very far on my 2019 Best of List. I would not be able to tell you a song from that album, or if she even made it on (because as of this writing it is still unpublished) but I knew she was talented and I thought her violin gave her a unique sound. This time around, she did a sonic 180 and went for a more left field mixture of sounds and had an even better album. Listen to stand out Homemaker. 

Glacier Veins- Lunar Reflection

Normally, I consider my best of list a failure if I don’t find at least one new, completely random small Bandcamp band that didn’t get reviewed from Allmusic or Pitchfork or any other major website. If they don’t have a Wikipedia page, even better! This year, Glacier Veins is one of those bands for me. If you like female fronted pop punk with a side of experimental noise pop added to it, I would definitely recommend them. 2018’s KID, 2009 Paramore, Halsey, Poppy, and Willow fans should be happy. My favorite songs are Cover Me, Here & There, Lunation, Autonomy, and Flower Moon.

Amanda Shires- Take It Like a Man

Alt country queen. Recommended if you waited for Jenny Lewis’ album for Puppy in a Truck or you enjoy feeling like you are a Sons of Anarchy character or perhaps Yellowstone. Mature alt country with great, clear production. My favorite song is Hawk for the Dove. (Side note: I wrote this way before they filed for divorce). 

Lola Kirke- Lady for Sale

Picks up where Pearl Charles left off for countrypolitian. If you thought this would be a low effort vanity project you are mistaken. Unclear if this is a pastiche or not but very unexpected country album from this British actress. Pink Sky is my favorite song. Recommended if you like Pearl Charles or Margo Price.

Honey Dijon- Black Girl Magic

A great house music DJ. Recommended if you want to keep the party going after Renaissance.

Montell Fish- Her Love Still Haunts Me Like a Ghost

I listen to an adult alternative college radio station regularly and to paint a picture of what that’s like, I can now say “wow, that Paul Simon song slaps”. Sometimes they do play younger, internet only bedroom produced artists like Claud, Kafune, Joe P, and now, Montell Fish. When I first heard the distorted bass and reverbs I was confused at how different and all out he went but this is a true EP of heartbreak and desperation. Listen if you like PM Dawn, Miguel and Steve Lacy. Pretend Lovers is my favorite song. 

Carly Cosgrove- See you in Chemistry

Nostalgia really can sell anything these days. In the DJ world, we got DJ Sabrina the Teenage DJ, DJ Ross from Friends, and DJ Seinfeld. There’s even the genre of Dariacore! Emo has a 2000’s pastiche in Carly Cosgrove, a reference I embarrassingly didn’t get for a long time. The nostalgia stops there and the rest is a solid pop punk record. I don’t really listen to a lot of pop punk/emo so I can’t compare to others in the genre but I think the vocals give the instruments room to breathe. My favorites were Rue the Day, Cloudblock, and Munck. Listen if you miss the channel 2000’s The N but at this point would settle for the era of Teennick that only replayed iCarly, Zoey 101, Drake and Josh, Ned’s Declassified, and Victorious. 

[doyeonhd]

❝ 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐒. ❞

index. . . self para timeline. . . february 2023, dance studio 2 mentions. . . of other ace trainees and npc word counts. . . 816 words excl quotes

― in the depth of winter, i finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.

the news comes off as a surprise to doyeon. she had thought that her acts were finally caught; that all the sneaking out and occasionally hanging out and live busking were now something that puts the raven haired at risk. she knows that there's a price to pay for doing something she's been told not to, but can you blame her for keeping the rock spirit on? the drums in hydra does not feel the same, much less the lack of crowd to cheer her on. the fire within her flickers with threats to wear out if she had not hit her hi-hats and snare drums alongside her old band mates. it's hard to break down old habits when you meet on weekly basis, but doyeon at least works hard in not mentioning she's a trainee to anyone and especially to her close friends and band mates.

heading to dance studio number two, she comes to face a few other trainees that she occasionally share dance practices and vocal lessons with, someone whom had been in ace longer than she did yet welcoming if doyeon remembers her first day being introduced. the trainee sighs in relief, part of it knowing that she would not be punished and that she had not been caught yet since it wasn't her alone. she doubts their company representative would be as harsh as to scold her in public and in front of everyone. for worst, it could be a general warning to everyone.

doyeon looks around and wonders if she should start a conversation with the others until the ceo of all cut edge makes her appearance and greets everyone. the introduction was quick yet it did not stop the nervousness that doyeon feels. what had been so grand for the big lady of top ladder to make her very own appearance in front of everyone.

pleasantries were given where it's due; their ceo has always been a warm lady who prioritizes them being a family first rather than people whom had worked under her. the news comes after when she's done, about how they will be surprising the public with a debut in the second quarter and how doyeon will have to go through the candidate position interview that will be coming up soon.

there are other things planned out for them as well, from moving to dorms until it's their time to shine, along with calibrating intensive practices likewise their hydra peers for the debut and a trip outside south korea in march. by now, doyeon feels a sort of adrenaline rush in her blood aside. she's never been out of south korea before, much less out of seoul. her family and the extension of her families all reside within seoul so there had never been a reason for her to travel out. even when her father had to travel overseas for his orchestra, she was too busy studying to follow. doyeon makes a mental note to find out about spain, perhaps practice a few words in spanish. but most importantly, she needed help with preparing her passport and visa.

all excitement aside, the other trainees and doyeon herself have been told to put focus on their dancing and performance skills and that in due time, they'll be pulled to trained alongside a special dance instructor and his crew. the dance instructor whom now doyeon notices once the excitement and nervousness has boiled down, waves towards the girls to which all of them had bid with a bow in return.

after jang boram has bid her goodbye, all of them are give contracts to which they've been told to read through and to hand in whenever they are ready. doyeon runs through it and finds the clauses of the debut plans with rough timeline written, more information on the spain trip and of course, now with stricter rules that mentions along the lines of limitations in dating, aesthetic procedures and going out. "a bummer," doyeon mumbles to himself, thinking of having to resign herself in her dorm if not practicing now that she would not be able to sneak out.

the raven-haired trainee signs the contract, sealing away her drummer spirit. if this is the price, she's willing to pay. handing the contract back to park jisun, doyeon addresses her concerns on the passport and visa required to which the team manager informs she will work on it and advises her to not worry about.

with a smile and a bow, doyeon bids the team manager good bye alongside her future and possible teammates before heading to the sign up for a dance studio where she could release her high energy and tension towards since she could not go out. perhaps this had been for the better good. now that there aren't that many distractions, she could work hard on improving herself and gearing up for the debut.

[dearcraziness]

Chapter 64.

The smooth branches of the lime trees were swaying softly in the light wind of the passing summer. It seemed the hottest time of the year would soon leave the residents, rushing away into the distance, leaving a pleasant trail and the aroma of violets, forget-me-nots, dahlias. Nevertheless, it was by no means cold outside: only a cheerful rain was drumming on the windows, prompting friends to stay at home, pondering, enjoying the slow pace of their eternal unusually stunning life, appreciating the charm of their existence, being in rapture and calmness.

Having written down the phrases in a notebook, Bendy rushed to the recording studio in order to portray the melody in musical form.

"Hmm, how was it there... I remember for sure I was finishing the first bar on the tonic... Or is it better to add singing..." the composer thought. "I sincerely hope Lara will be interested in a melody expressing my deep feelings for her... Wonder what she is doing now... "

An hour passed - his hand stopped for a moment, the pencil wasn't moving. The young man looked at his watch : half past nine - time to prepare breakfast. The imp put down his notebook and rushed into the kitchen. When he finished setting the table, he came back. A certain sense of anxiety permeated his heart. Despite Lara's constant approval of his new songs, he was worried whether the heartfelt melody he had written from the heart, decorated with petals of adoration would have the proper effect. Having fluently filled one sheet with notes lining up in even rows, the imp wrote down the words after them, but the train of thought was so rapid - the young man hardly had time to express it. And it wasn't difficult to find a rhyme, the accompaniment seemed to fall on the main motive itself and harmoniously combined with musical overflows, assuming the performance of the voice.

The hours flew by, taking with them irrevocable minutes of reflection, shadows of doubt, crystal clear hopes. Anyway, Bendy completed the composition exactly when he planned, in the way he intended. When he heard footsteps outside the door, he realized Lara had woken up. Climbing the stairs, the demon turned the handle and saw his precious one in front of him.

"Laurie, good morning!... Are you going to have breakfast already?..."

"Almost, first I go to the bathroom, wash my face..."

"And in the meantime I'll be setting the table... See you, sunshine!..."

Sweethearts smiled after each other, and each went their own way.

After breakfast, Bendy decided not to hesitate to show Lara his surprise. He came up to her and, stroking her shoulder, kissed her on the cheek.

"Lotus, I wrote you a song... Would you like to listen to it?..."

"Of course, Bendy, I'll be glad..."

"Great, sugarpie, follow me to the recording studio..."

The devils descended the grayish-yellow plank steps made of sturdy oak, and Bendy put the music notebook on the music stand, began to play, then to sing. Of course, he had already recorded the song and made a video clip, but Lara was and always will be a special, close-minded creature for him, that's why he often performed songs live for her, arranged whole concerts, sometimes sang a cappella.

The young man turned on the recorded version of the original to the girl immediately after the performance, so that she could compare the sound quality of the voice and instruments on both. The imp turned off the screen with the remote control and the spotlight itself, sitting on a long lemon bench next to Lara. The girl continued to dreamily look at the extinguished screen, smiling sweetly. Bendy understood without words what her thoughts were about and beamed with joy. He achieved his goal: he gave her the rays of happiness again, illuminating her clear cloudless day. He wrapped her in an invisible soft blanket of attention, understanding, support, encouragement, respect.

"You know, sweetheart, I consider it obligatory to thank you... You are pleased to look at my work, my aft receives your praise from day to day, and I'm infinitely grateful for you : you inspire me; you inspire an ennobling, soothing aura which excites my whole being; you are the reason why I have an impeccable life; I know I only need you..."

"Oh, fluffy, you make me blush..."

"I can't help it, raspberry... I love you very much... I have an idea - why don't we listen to romantic compositions by other artists?... Let's listen to the lyrical mood, heartfelt words, hidden dreams..."

"Of course, let's not delay..."

"It remains only to find songs... First, let's look at the classical compositions..."

Deep, soul-touching motives and innermost, secret, sincere thoughts embedded in them captured the feelings of the beloved, pulling soft pink wings, showering soft petals invisible to the eye. Bendy and Lara especially remembered the introduction of one melody. The instruments, harmoniously combining with each other, prepared the listeners for the verse. It began with the concerning words :

"People can't always be around,

People can't always be together.

It is impossible for love, earthly love to burn without end..."

The song incredibly strongly hooked on the fragile vulnerable souls, especially the young man. In the dead silence, rapid black streams of tears rolled down his face. He tried to restrain his emotions, quickly wiped away the moisture, but it was too late - the girl had already noticed his melancholy.

"Dear..." she reached out with her hands to his attentive, upset eyes.

"It's all right, honey, I shouldn't have taken the content of the song to heart... In addition, at the end was said that everybody should remember how important it is not to lose hope, to believe in the power of true feelings - true love is tested by time, in no case should you give up... I understand the sung verses in this way... I'm sorry, I ruined the moment... It was so great for us to listen to romantic songs, fragments from musicals, ballads..."

"It's still good, nothing has changed... Of course, the song turned out to be somewhat sad, but there's no way to live without problems... Don't blame yourself for your sensitivity, you know I love the sentimental qualities in you..."

"I adore your calmness, kindness, friendliness, responsiveness, tact... In a word, all those characteristics, thanks to which you are yourself - a beautiful and incomparable Lara... I see you are used to my mood swings, bright bursts... I really wish to become less impressionable, so you won't worry about me much..."

"Not at all... We'll only get lost in guessing why you stopped reacting sharply to the events taking place... Therefore, don't even think you have to improve yourself from day to day : you are already perfect for me..."

"Thank you so much for your encouragement, sweetie... I strive to strengthen my spiritual world, develop morally and physically, adhere to my principles... You and our friends will be given help and support when you need them... I don't remember a single day when I wouldn't thank the vast, excellent worldly expanse for our meeting: let a clear blue sky stretch over our heads, birds trill and twitter in my heart - I'll always take care of you, your well-being, your values..."

"My light, I'm grateful to you for your efforts... Thanks to you, I don't know troubles and bad weather above my head..."

"It's my responsibility to ensure your well-being, buttercup... You and your destiny play a key role in my life... Vanilla, would you like to go through our favorite home goods stores?... Let's look at cute decor items which can add comfort and relaxation to our studio..."

"Let's go right now, marshmallow..."

"I take you at your word, violet... Wonder what kind of assortment of decorations arrived on the shelves..."

The devils walked briskly along the path surrounded by dense bushes, soft grass, tall trees with fresh foliage - soon they reached the City of Black and White creatures. Having passed the White-Stone Alley, sweethearts turned the corner, crossing into the Quiet alley. The surroundings really inspired harmony, calmness, pacification with their imperturbable, eye-pleasing appearance. A string of store names stood out on the floors of the dark brown, imposing charm of the building: "Home Art", "Leisure centre", "Music of your heart", "Cozy morning", "Evening hush" pleased the eye, attracting attention with goods behind the glazed entrance. Bendy and Lara remembered the previous arrangement of shelves, but this time the assistants organized a minor rearrangement. The couple examined the new arrivals, accessories already noticed on the last visit, the design of the room.

"Strawberry, I found lilac pillows which will certainly fit into the interior of your bedroom!... Do you think we should have them?..."

"Hmm, we need to think, lemon... Here, for example, beige ones also look great..."

"We'll take both, tiny... And you won't have to choose..."

"Okay, you persuaded me..."

"And we'll pick up some sets of bed linen for them... Crocuses with lilies of the valley on a pale blue background look attractive... A little further on, intricate gold patterns on a light yellow background with non-conspicuous sequins, decorated with brownish edging..."

"And the quality is pleasing to the touch..."

"I'll put them in the basket... Oh, lotus, look - a bluish tea set with white roses, with stripes at the top and bottom, with curled handles at the cups and with a lid in the shape of a rose at the teapot!..."

"Yes, fluffy, I see..."

"It impressed me very much, didn't you, caramel?..."

"Similarly, my sweet..."

"A golden plate for fruits or sweets will perfectly, brilliantly fit... The only caveat: the birds sitting on it, the lilies lying on can't be removed..."

"And for the best... They complement the wonderful dishes..."

"You're right, honey... Shall we get one?..."

"Sure... In our dreamworld, we can have everything..."

"The most precious thing we have is our love, of course... The rest is less important..."

"Look, there are cups of various shapes..."

"And in the form of a spiral, an ellipse, even with a silhouette of a heart... I feel we are having a day of innovations, additions of dishes in our home..."

"We collect too many things: where will we put them all?..."

"I'll find a place, I assure you, buttercup..."

The young man and the girl walked through the aisles of the store, admiring the warm atmosphere, artfully selected colours, simple drawings of muted shades. In addition, the imp put in the basket: a wicker cream basket, napkins with orchids depicted on them, jars decorated with butterflies, a raspberry sugar bowl in the form of a turret, frosted vases with pink ribbons and artificial leaves pinned on them, a tablecloth with lavender, a purple soap dish and dispenser to match.

Sweethearts returned slightly tired, emboldened by the anticipation of placing the exciting goods in the studio. Entering the room, Bendy laid out the objects from a paper bag with the words "See you soon : good luck, have fun" written on it in a beautiful font, and together with Lara he placed them around the room, preserving the general mood of the decoration, permeated with kindness, magic, and a light, relaxed natural aura of space.

Soon it began to rain. The imps, wrapped in a warm soft blanket, sat huddled, looking at the gray dark sky through the window and drinking cocoa with colourful marmalades, marshmallows, meringues. Bendy hugged Lara tighter, made sure of her comfortable condition, kissing her on the top of her head.

"It drips so loudly outside the window... The wind in cloudy weather is often especially strong: this time, on the contrary, it's practically not heard..."

"It's warm both outside and at home; unless it's very wet in the garden, we'll be able to to sit on a bench..."

"We'll go out a little later, sunny... The downpour will end, the furniture will dry out..."

"Probably, let's not hurry..."

"I noticed you especially like watching the raindrops, sugar, and I come to the conclusion this is your favorite kind of weather - on the other hand, I remember: you are overjoyed at the rising sun, your delight makes me think you are sensitive and emotional, that's why your worldview is so finely and carefully organized... I perfectly understand you and your admiration: my attitude to life isn't radically different... I'm indescribably pleasantly surprised we are similar in many ways... So, I stand closer to you - to my ideal, to my destiny, to my one and only river pearl..."

"Of course, we're very close to each other both spiritually and physically... We used to stand more distantly, in your opinion?..."

"No, no, love, from the very beginning of acquaintance with you I felt a magical connection, which only became stronger over the years, - I meant something else... Berry, the fact is that I put you above myself... You're standing on a crystal pedestal: rose petals seem to be hovering around you; the glare of rays, flickering stronger when they approach you; fluffy clouds... Even if I don't reach the steps on a par with you, I'll try to rise higher to you, in order to protect you and bring you tenderness..."

"Dear, please don't think you are below me in your merits, qualities of character... I'm learning a lot from you, you open my eyes to new splendid opportunities... Our achievements are as valuable as we are... From now on, try not to erect majestic towers on the way to me, okay?... I'm rather concerned by your point of view..."

"Please forgive me, darling, the last thing I expected was that my words would puzzle you... Your opinion has an unimaginable effect on the decisions I've made, so I'll reconsider my beliefs..."

"You're no worse than me, sugar..."

"So I deserve a place next to you, sunshine... I realized the uniqueness of each creation sets it apart from others in a peculiar way... Therefore, it's not worth comparing anyone with somebody... And yet, the light emitting from you is the brightest, most magnificent, radiant for me..."

"And I notice you first of all against the background of the others..."

"I'm immensely happy our paths have crossed, our destinies have converged, our hearts and souls have joined together - now we share good and bad weather, ups and downs together... My orchid, seems like the rain is over... Let's go for a walk, or would you rather stay in the studio?..."

"I'd like to stay here for a while..."

"Love you very much, my queen... You open the curtain in front of me, leading to the magical land of harmony, tranquility, peace..."

"Love you very much, too, my knight..."

"I won't stop repeating how much you mean to me, violet... It's so great to accompany you day after day..."

Bendy took Lara's empty cup, which she handed to him, put it on the table with his own, then the plates with the sweets which once lay on them. The young man discovered that the girl had thrown off her burgundy plaid and folded it, putting it aside. He bent down, wrapping his arms around his irresistible waist, kissing her on the cheeks, on the forehead, on the nose. She put her hand on his chest, moving her body to him. He gently put her on his lap, his lips were touching her neck, shoulders. She was stroking his hands, leaning against him in a relaxed way. The demon summoned several more hands with the help of magic - with them he was stroking the girl's hair, ran his fingers through her long curls, sometimes slightly twisting them. The imp raised her head, and he looked into her coal-black eyes - they had a special power over the young man, a huge influence, powerful energy: looking into them, he was ready to grant every her wish, not resisting for a second. He stopped his palms on her legs, wrapped his hands around her knees. Their tails were entwined together - the tip of hers was resting comfortably on his. The faces of sweethearts were illuminated by the bright sun, the light penetrated deep into their snow-white skin. They weren't distracted by the sunshine, nor sounds passing outside the door, nor singing of birds on the street. They focused on each other, on hugging, on touching...

Finally, their lips were extremely close, the demons merged in a gentle, long, delightful, trembling, sincere kiss... It took longer than usual. The minutes of sweet moments stretched out, passing quickly, easily, fleetingly... The lips draw as if melted, merging into a single figure with indistinct outlines. There was silence in the room, but romantic lyrical touching music was playing in the minds of the young man and girl. They wanted the day to last as long as possible. They would have been immeasurably satisfied...

Bendy felt his heart beating faster, his cheeks heated up; he pressed Lara closer to him. She felt his strong hands on her body, his gentle strokes, his prolonged touches. The imps enthusiastically entered the world of innermost secrets - an abode where only the two of them could get to, because together they possessed a rare key of trust which could open locks on doors leading to mysterious spaces, undiscovered rooms...

Dozens of minutes flew by, as if their course accelerated. It got dark outside the window, the edge of the moon appeared from the gray heavy clouds. The devils opened their eyes without taking their lips off. They saw by each other's raised eyebrows the intention to continue, not to stop. The seconds evaporated like water, as if they didn't exist at all. Finally Bendy felt Lara moving away from him a little, and they broke the kiss. There was a pleasant aftertaste left in the mouth, sweeter than chocolates with caramel or vanilla filling. The young man and the girl were looking at each other in silence without hiding the smiles stretched along the edges of their faces. The imp turned her gaze to the clock, the demon turned out to be consistent. The arrow on the dial surprised the couple with its location.

"Sugar, our kiss... It turned out to be the longest of all the previous ones... Undoubtedly, I love absolutely every one of them, however..." he pulled her a little closer, hugging her tighter. "Today our kissing is especially gratifying... I can still feel the movements of your lips..."

"How enchanting... It's like I ate a box of toffee or a piece of cake with white chocolate..."

"Your favorite dessert, I remember... And it seemed to me even more sugary, strawberry, I was attracted not to stop our close contact at all... Love, passion, craving for you, sympathy, affection, adoration joined together... We got closer even more than before..."

Bendy shyly ran his eyes over Lara's face, his cheeks were covered with a red shade more visibly. The girl put her hand on his chest, lightly stroked and leaned her head on his shoulder.

[ashley-slashley]

Long self insert self ship fic about Ash and I that's set in Ash vs Evil Dead. This is part 1

When Ash, Kelly, and Pablo were trekking to Florida after the deal with Ruby, Ash decided to take a detour very southwest of Michigan and in the opposite direction of Florida. Considering he had no home since he awoke evil once again, Ash thought he might as well visit the only flame of his who genuinely loved him (besides Linda from ED1), he suddenly remebered the yellow sticky note with her address was hidden somewhere in the glove box. Without making anything awkward, he asked Pablo to get the sticky note from its compartment.

The blue ink of her pen strokes were faded over time, but still legible in a few spots. "Audrey", her signature was somehow in perfect condition as if she just wrote it down, "Hey Jefe, who's Audrey?" Pablo asked. Ash cleared his throat, "she was a girlfriend I had, haven't thought of her for years. I dunno why I suddenly remebered that I have her address. Knowing my shit luck, she's either dead or moved homes" Ash's grip on the steering wheel tightened. Kelly and Pablo gave concerned looks at Ash, neither fathoming Ash having a range of emotions like this. Knowing this was an emotionally driven subject, Ash pulled over to the side of the road a shut the Delta off.

Impulses took over his mind at that point, Ash opened the glove box and looked for all traces of this "Audrey" figure. He was wondering why he was always apprehensive about anyone opening that compartment. Ash made a small pile of the papers and photos he found, on top was the aforementioned sticky note. Considering the many decades this has been sitting in the Delta, it's no surprise the adhesive on the note deteriorated and serves no purpose and was easy to remove. Below the note there was a folded up piece of notebook paper with "Ash" written on it in cursive, curiously he opened it up, expecting a goodbye note.

"Songs that describe Ash + Audrey" was penned at the top of the paper, in cursive. For the time this was written, the songs were mainly from early 20th century to about 1979 to 1980. Taking his time to remember if she chose all these songs or if it was a collaborative effort, either way song titles rang bells in his head. Don't Worry Baby - The Beach Boys, I Only Want To Be With You - Dusty Springfield, You Stepped Out Of A Dream - Tony Martin, You Still Believe In Me - The Beach Boys, Whole Lotta Love - Led Zeppelin were some of the songs Audrey viewed her relationship with Ash.

"Damn, this lady's got some fancy handwriting" Kelly looked over the paper, Pablo asked why is there a sad sounding song on the list. Memories filled Ash's mind as the opening drums and harmony of the song played in his head, he can't recall why exactly Audrey loved the song Don’t Worry Baby, but it has to do with him in some way despite the song releasing in 1964 and her liking it before she even knew of Ash's existence. She never said the phrase to him, but this song is, in a nutshell, how she treated him and his bullshit. He stared blankly at the paper and smiled when remembered "there was this one time after she hung out with me at home, I was embarrassed and pissed off about my dad trying to get her in bed with him. I tried apologizing about it, but she said something along the lines of that I'm not responsible for his shitty and creepy behavior because he's a grown man who can make his own decisions, or some shit like that."

"She was probably the only girlfriend I ever had who didn't put up with his shit and didn't leave me for him. In fact, I think she genuinely hated him." Ash thought out loud. Kelly and Pablo reacted in their own manner of disgust, no wonder why Ash is a dumpster fire. Ash explained that pretty much everything went right for them, and that she really loved him despite their relationship ending. They both wanted different things in life, sure she might have married him, but the reason why there was no proposal or marriage between the both of them was still a foggy memory to him.

Ash put the car into gear and began heading west.

[eremiie]

𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐲 𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧!;

❥ 17k words | pure fluff | eren x reader

❥ eren’s birthday is in a couple days and what better way to celebrate it by hosting a party with your friends? only, you can’t help but feel a little stressed out and a litte nervous.

❥ authors note; don’t remind me that this is two days late, i know i know, i needed a break, but i hope you enjoy anyways >:)

4 days.

"connie, sasha! can you guys stop messing around for three seconds?"

connie and sasha turned around at the same time, your hand impatiently drummed against the counter as you gave them an irritated stare. your patience was growing thin as you wanted the outcome of this event to be perfect.

eren's birthday was a couple days away.

it wasn't always that you wanted to prepare events, as a matter of fact it stressed you out a little too much to do so. but, this was an event you wanted to take charge of— you wanted it to go perfect with the help of some of your closest friends.

you had met eren only the beginning of your first year in college— this year. it was the classic i need a roommate, so do you, so let's be roommates thing. it made things a little easier on you, bills were easier to pay, school was easier to get to, and eren brought more comfort to you.

he made you more social, introduced you to new friends, and became a role in your life.

sasha crossed her legs from her position on the floor, setting her arms on the table, clasping her fingers while she nodded her head hastily. "okay, i swear i'm listening now."

"sorry." connie murmured with a scratch of his head. he leaned forward on the coffee table, a look that said carry on staring at you as you stared at him.

you sighed, guilt creeping up on you for the harshness of your previous sentence. "...i didn't mean to sound aggressive, i'm sorry, i'm just kind of stressed." you rested your head on the palm of your hand as your eyes trailed over the sloppy notes scribbled on a piece of notebook paper armin tore for you.

the top of the paper was practically glaring at you "eren's birthday party!!!" slapped between the margins in led. you skimmed the notes, some of your friends name with a dash pointed to what they would handle in relation to the party. you gave the paper a grim look, as you almost couldn't read your own writing.

it couldn't go too wrong right? you felt as if eren was somewhat of a picky person but deep down you knew he'd love anything that his friends presented to him because of the sentiment and thought behind it. eren wasn't too difficult, so why were you stressing so much? you have a great group of friends beside you that were even willing to go through with this birthday party. what was bothering you?

"_____," armin's hand slid to your back, rubbing up and down in a comforting manner. he jolt you out of your thoughts, your head turning to the side to look at him.

a warm smile was on his face, blue eyes almost relaxing, almost putting you at ease. he removed his hand from your back and grabbed your hand that was in your lap, giving it a light squeeze. "you know, for one of eren's birthdays when he was a kid i made him a dirt cake and we sat outside and pretended to eat it." you couldn't help but giggle at the thought of a small eren and armin sitting in the grass playing with dirt. "he was happy enough to hang out with me and do that— he was also happy when mikasa embroidered him the letter E on a piece of cloth. he hung it on his backpack, i'm sure it's still back at his mom's house."

armin looked up to mikasa for confirmation and she nodded her head from behind him on the couch. she looked up to the ceiling, reminiscing on the small memory with a small smile as she fiddled with her fingers. "i'm sure eren would enjoy this just as much as a dirt cake."

"and a tiny E embroidery." mikasa added with a chuckle.

you let your hand smooth over the back of your neck and nodded. "yeah... yeah, he'll like it." you weren't sure if you were just saying that to reassure yourself or saying that because you meant it. either way, you picked up the mechanical pencil next to your elbow and began writing again.

"hitch," you repeated as you wrote down her name, your the end of your h flying as you lifted the pencil off of the paper.

hitch looked up at you from her phone. "what's up?"

"you know a lot of people." she looked up for a second tapping her chin, as if she was pondering.

"yeah... if i do say so myself, i'm a little popular." she shrugged her shoulders with a smirk and you rolled your eyes at her, the both of you letting out a small laugh.

"can you get the word out to some people you know eren knows?"

"who does eren know?"

"you know... besides us, maybe like..." you let your mind wander. eren wasn't the most social person but neither were you. in the least he was pretty known around campus, given his temper and his personality, not to mention his looks. he definitely got eyed around campus albeit only talking to a few people. you weren't surprised when someone waved hey to him while he was minding his own.

"i'm just messing, i'll figure out something." a light bulb went off in her brain, her eyes lighting up. "oh! i could even make a cute little digital flier to give them all the info— armin what's your address?" she had somewhat of a creative prowess that you were thankful for. always willing to help you with minor inconveniences whether it be your fashion choices, socializing with others, designing things, and much more.

armin began to tell her, his voice fading out as you looked towards sasha who now had her head laid down on the table, like you only moments ago. "sash," her eyes looked up to you and she picked herself up from the glass surface. "can you handle the cake and snack ideas?" you knew sasha would be the best bet for the food, especially considering she was currently taking a culinary arts program.

her eyes widened a bit, another haste nod of her head that made her hickory ponytail bounce with each up and down motion. "yeah, definitely! i have a friend that is really good at baking too, i could ask him for help on the cake."

you pointed the pencil in your hand towards sasha with a smile. "knew i could count on you, please spare enough for the party though."

she rolled her eyes hand reaching out to push your hand back down to the table. "shush, i was only gonna eat a couple bites of whatever we make— don't act like you've never treated yourself while cooking." you shook your head, looking back down to the paper and writing food and cake next to sasha's name hiding the small grin on your face. "caught!" she exclaimed, pointing at you with a snap of her fingers. "red handed!"

"oh, shush." you whipped your head behind you to look at jean who was sitting in between mikasa and hitch. "jean," and then to connie, next to sasha, his eyes low and his face straight— a clear look of boredom. "connie?"

the two boys answered with a small "hm?"

"can the three of us go for decorations like on..." you tapped the pencil in your hand to your chin. if eren's birthday was on the thirtieth, and you would be decorating on the twenty-ninth, you'd wanna get the decorations a little early on�� better safe than sorry anyways. "twenty seventh or twenty eight?"

"decorations? this is gonna be fun." connie came more alive at the sound of decorations. with a  snicker, he rubbed his hands together like a classic villain in an old cliché movie.

"you guys are just coming with i'm not leaving y'all in charge of them. you'd fuck eren over."

"yeah? like how you wanna fu—" your hand slapped over connie's mouth faster than you could blink, connie's eyes going wide at the abrupt action and yours at the words that were beginning to spill over his lips. yes, you loved your friends but more often than not you couldn't stand them. sometimes you wondered if eren could've chose a better group of people to introduce you to. (in reality? you wouldn't trade them for the world.)

"no!" your response came out louder than you intended, the lot of your friends laughing. "can you not?" you turned back towards your paper, jotting down decorations beside jean and connie's names, your nose almost touching the white sheet with how close you were to it. the tingle of blood was flooding your cheeks and you took it upon yourself to take your time writing the date as well. "decorations, twenty eight."

"yes ma'am." jean replied clearing his throat with a small smirk on his face, glancing to connie before back to you. you sighed and rubbed your forehead.

"yes ma'am." connie repeated, small stifled chuckles trying to leave his quivering lips. you glared at him, and he tried not to smile, clearly dismissing how you were trying to kill him with a look.

armin spoke up, tapping your shoulder. "once you get the decorations stop by here, me and mikasa can help put them up the day of the party. you can come help too— make sure everything looks nice."

your attention was stolen, once again armin being the one who held it. "okay," decorating was already written next to mikasa and armin's names, but you marked the thirtieth next to it as well. "sasha, let's get the cake on the twenty-ninth so that it's closest to fresh as possible. i can come with right?"

"yeah, of course. i can pick you up that morning if you want me to."

that was perfect, you were practically beaming at the way everything was falling in place— everything felt as if it was falling in place, yes, but still your stomach flipped and your brain couldn't help but flood with the idea that something could go wrong.

you pushed the thoughts to the back of your brain and began to fold the paper in front of you neatly. "hitch, can i come over tomorrow? we can work on the digital fliers and figure out who to invite."

"sure, yeah, that's fine with me."

you pocketed the piece of paper and rose to your feet, pulling out your phone to check the time. you had been at armin and mikasa's place for four hours with your friends, and you had only been planning for a little bit— getting distracted was a hobby at this point. or maybe you were distracting yourself just because of the worry that the planning wouldn't go right.

"i'm gonna go," you stepped around the couch gingerly, avoiding the feet of your friends. "thank you guys."

armin followed your steps, standing up to trail after you. "i'll walk you to the door, the rest of them should be leaving soon too." he turned to the remainder, blonde brow rising over his eye. it wasn't a suggestion, you knew he'd be ushering them out the door soon enough.

"thank you, armin." not only thank you for a measly walk out the door, but a thanks to him helping you, keeping you at somewhat ease for the party. he was always so good to you— from helping you study when you needed it, talking to eren when he was upset with you. armin was always a shoulder to rely on, and you wouldn't have met him if it wasn't for eren. "thank you." you repeated under your breath as he opened the door for you.

the change in temperature as you stepped out the door felt better than it should have, the breeze hugged you tight, and you brought your hand to your chest as you stepped down the steps of armin's apartment.

you had a good set of friends on your shoulder, and a good plan in mind that you knew they'd help you with every step of the way. you breathed out through your nose and closed your eyes before turning back to the blonde, two calm oceans watching you with solicitude. "bye, armin." and another one of his warm smiles was thrown back to you as he waved and closed the door behind you.

when you returned to your apartment eren was asleep on the couch.

you moved as quietly as possible, shutting the door as quiet as you could muster. you slipped off your shoes and tiptoed over to the couch, every creak of the floor board felt like it could be heard no matter how quiet you thought you were being. although, when you peered down at eren's sleeping figure sprawled on the couch his eyes were still shut, he was still taken over by sleep.

even in his sleepy state his brows were still knit together, a small pout on his face as you listened to his slow breathing. his arm was supporting his head, the other one draped across his stomach and his hair wasn't in it's usual ponytail, hair messy and strewn about around his head and you almost wanted to let out a laugh at how cute he looked.

even though a bed probably would've been more comfortable, you didn't want to wake him. he looked pretty calm from where he was rested on the couch, eyes fluttering while they were still shut and lip twitching every now and then.

if you didn't know any better you would've bent down to place a kiss on his forehead, maybe the tip of his nose. or maybe you would've shook him awake and asked him to sleep beside you tonight. but you knew better and both of those options quickly dissolved from your mind before you could truly consider them.

instead, you took your time studying his pretty features until you felt like you studied long enough, almost surprised he didn't wake up, wondering why he felt like he was being watched. you spun on your heel and quietly creeped your way to your room, letting out a unsteady breath once you closed the door.

your back stayed pressed against the door as you looked at your feet. the chirp of an owl was almost too present, and if it wasn't for your thoughts you were sure you could've heard the television from your upstairs neighbor. you shook your head and face planted into your pillow, the bed bouncing up and down with the addition of your weight.

were you really worried about the birthday party? is that what was stressing you out?

the more you thought about it, the more it felt like a stupid party wasn't the sole root of your problems.

3 days.

you didn't even hear the sound of eren approaching you, too entranced with what was on your computer screen. when the rough pad of his finger tapped your shoulder you almost jumped out of your skin, your own finger moving quickly to switch tabs, your vision a blur and you not sure what you clicked before your head shot to face him. "eren!"

he put his hands up in mock surrender, glancing between you and your computer screen, intrigue in his green eyes. "what were you looking at?" of course that was the first thing he asked, that was just your luck.

you tapped your hands against the sides of your laptop, letting your gaze dart around the living room while eren waited a response that you were whipping up in your head. "a watch i'm gonna buy... for me."

"can i see it?" you almost rolled your eyes at how inconvenient that question was. your hand went to your mousepad, scrolling over to exit out of the tab, before looking back at eren. he narrowed his eyes as he literally watched you close out the tab in front of his face.

"no." your response was awkward— scratch that, the whole moment was awkward. "uh, what's up?" you shut your laptop as eren rounded the couch to come sit next to you. the weight of his body shifted you a bit, and his presence so close to you made you tense up slightly. his arm swinging over the back of the couch didn't help you either.

"didn't see you at all yesterday. when i woke up i checked your room and you were sleep." he checked on you? your heart practically skipped a beat at the simple sentence. you saw him almost everyday and have lived with him for almost a year now— why did he rack your nerves so much?

"yeah... i knocked out when i got home, but you were sleep when i got back anyways."

"where were you for so long?" genuine curiosity was present in his voice. "i was pretty bored here by myself, you know." his head tilted back to rest against the couch, his eyes still looking down at you as he let out an exaggerated breath.

you gave eren an uneven smile and crossed your arms. "with armin," you almost did a double take when eren's smile dropped.

"you left me to go to armin's house?"

"...i didn't think you wanted to come!" your voice came off defensive, and you quickly lowered it the nearer your sentence came to an end.

eren squinted his eyes at you, if looks could talk his would be calling you an idiot. he brought his head off the couch and leaned forward. any closer and he would be able to hear your heart thrumming in your chest. "you didn't think i wanted to come to armin and mikasa's house... you know, my childhood friends?"

when eren repeated your words back to you they did sound pretty dumb. you frowned, not sure if you were frowning at the boy in front of you or the stupidity of your sentence. your words tangled in your throat as they tried to form, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. eren leaned back, and you felt yourself gain control again, your heart quieting. "it was a last minute thing, i had to go to grab some notes from him and we got carried away."

"you and armin don—"

"mikasa! grab some notes from mikasa. calculus... calculus notes."

almost on cue, your phone buzzed from between the couch cushion beside you and your hand fumbled to find it, pulling it up once your phone was in between your fingers. you turned your phone up right, the blue light shining on your face as you read the small segment of the message hitch sent you. your finger swiped and your thumb unlocked your phone as you read the remainder of the text.

march 27th, 2:53pm

⤷ finished studying. you can be on your way!!!

⤷ i'll be omw in like 10

you looked back up to eren, his eyes already rested on your face. when you stood up from the couch, he still watched you as you maneuvered around the small space of the apartment clumsily. "i'm gonna be on my way to hitch's." you told him, grabbing your keys from the kitchen table and slipping on your crocs that were under it.

"you didn't have enough fun with armin yesterday?" when your head turned to look at him, his was giving you a bored stare, head hanging backwards over the couch, the flyaways around his face pointing towards the ground.

you stiffened at his statement, but nevertheless continued to move, your jacket coming over your arms and your phone slipping into the pocket of your sweats. "grabbing notes isn't fun, i won't be at hitch's for long either. you'll probably be home when i get back."

he pushed off the couch, taking long strides towards you with his hands buried in his own pockets. when he was but a few feet away, he stopped, and your eyes washed over his body. black t-shirt clinging to his skin and the band of his boxers playing peek-a-boo from where they sat a little above his sweatpants. when you snapped out of your thoughts and looked up the door was being held open for you, eren trying to suppress his small smile. "nope, probably gonna go hang out with someone."

"who?"

"you don't know her."

"oh..." you tucked your lip in between your teeth and opened the door wider for yourself. "okay, see you." and when the door shut behind you it somewhat startled you, and the walk to your car felt a little longer than usual.

the drive to campus felt a little longer than usual too.

when you did arrive the walk to her dorm was like expected, you made your way through the hallways, up the steps until you were standing in front of her dorm. your hand rapped her door a few times, a "hold on!" being yelled out to you once you stopped.

typical, the sound of rustling was coming from the other side and you heard her footsteps come closer until the door swung open. "here, here." she huffed out, opening up the door more so you could slip past her and into her room.

right off the bat you knew which side was hers— not that it wasn't your first time, just that she made it painfully obvious.

her clothes were scattered across the floor, and it was almost as if an invisible line was dividing her and her roommates side. a stack of papers and books on top of her desk, light from the lamp behind it struggling to shine through the stack. the other side of the desk looking pristine and neat— if you swiped your finger over top there wouldn't be a trace of dust. posters adorned above her bed as well as a small tapestry. "i see you tried to clean up before i got here."

"something like that," she waved you off, shutting the door behind her and rushing over to her bed to throw a couple pillows down then hopping up on it, patting the space beside her. "you know, i got some of the information down for the flier, i made it look pretty and shit last night i just need you to tell me a few more things."

you slipped off your shoes and hopped onto her bed as well, scooting back and pulling your knees to your chest as she scrolled through her phone.

"look," the device was shoved in your face, making you blink a few times as you waited for the screen to steady, a sage green flier with many small words looking back at you.

your hand wrapped around the phone, and hitch let go to watch your face. "you like?"

"happy birthday eren!" was big and bold dark green lettering, the title for the flier, while an old picture of eren sat to the side that made you let out a snort. beside it was the date and time for the event, as well as armin's address spanning across the middle of the flier from one end of it to the other. your eyes went back to the photo, but before you could get a good look at it hitch abruptly grabbed the phone back. "you don't like it?" a frown was on her face, and she inspected the image on her phone. "different color? is that what it is?"

you pursed your lips and leaned back against her wall. "i didn't say that— and the color is fine..." you stared at your knees as you remembered one of the first times you went into eren's room while he was sick. a tattered dark green cover was draped over his body and when you had pushed him about the condition of the cover— frayed ends and a few small holes here and there, he had told you it was an old gift from his mom and that he liked the color.

"hey," when you looked back up to hitch she wasn't to your side anymore, instead seated criss cross in front of you, hands in her lap and her phone discarded to her side. "what's up?"

you gave her a questioning glance before fiddling with your fingers that were propped up on your knees. there was nothing up with you— could you not do a little thinking? "nothing?"

"girl, please," she looked to her phone, it isolated on top of her sheets the green flier being the centerpiece of the screen. her fingers went to press the power button until the device went black, and your eyes couldn't be on it anymore, forced to give your attention to hitch. "is it about eren? you seemed to really like the picture of him on my phone, even though i stole that from our high school yearbook. he looks off with short hair doesn't he?"

come on— you couldn't possibly get any more predictable than this. "i was just thinking about his favorite color." which wasn't a lie, you were, your thinking just happened to go deeper than just his favorite color.

"you cannot lie to save your life..." hitch threw her head back as she began to laugh at you, her short hair bobbing on her shoulders as her hand came up to cover her mouth while her laughs died down. "favorite color my ass. what is up for real?" hitch knew you liked eren, they practically all did... except for eren himself.

your head fell into the space created between your knees and chest, and you groaned. "i don't even know myself. he just, he just—" a sound of frustration left your mouth, but was muffled by your legs. "i want this to go well for him." you picked your head up, but you weren't satisfied with your answer. by the way hitch looked at you, you could tell she wasn't either.

"keep going, i'm still listening." hitch's head nodded slowly, a reassuring nod— telling you it was okay to keep speaking, her ears were open to hear you out.

"i want this party to go well for him, of course i do; but after today i feel so dumb for putting so much time into it. maybe i'm overthinking it but i told eren i hung out with armin and he told me he was going to hang out with some girl i didn't know, and it just... i guess rubbed me wrong— so now i feel like i'm putting all my time into this for him and it'll kind of just mean nothing, all my time into planning this party that i feel like is stupid. i feel stupid."

it was like a dam broke, your words had flooded out, and you had said more than you wanted to, yet it still wasn't enough. hitch was satisfied— but you? you were not.

she grabbed some of your hair, pulling your head up by it. surprise danced across her features, surprised to see you weren't weeping, albeit your voice sounding shaky when you spoke. "i haven't seen eren pull anybody ever since we were in high school together, i doubt he all of a sudden has a girl or whatever." she gave you a half smile, hands coming up to grab yours, and your legs slid down into a criss cross position as well.

"plus the party isn't stupid and you're not stupid. it's not about how you feel about eren, it's about giving him and us a good time for his birthday. did you forget that it's for his birthday? shit, if you don't wanna plan it, i will— admissions gonna equal a bottle of booze." her chuckle was contagious and your lips couldn't help but upturn as you let one out too.

"listen, whenever i have a crush on someone i just go for it, you know? just tell him. maybe he was just trying to get you jealous or something." she shrugged her shoulders, while she played with your hands that were enveloped in hers.

"we live together, i don't wanna make it weird."

'it'll only be weird if he says no."

"which is a big possibility."

hitch glanced off to the side before letting her eyes settle on you again, her lips shifting as she looked for what to say. "um... but he could say yes too. you won't know if you don't ask. if you're not willing to move forward and take the risk you don't like him that much. if he says no eventually the two of you will go back to normal anyways." you did like him that much, you were just an anxious mess. especially when he was around; which was quite ironic considering you spent most of your time around him.

you let hitch's words sink into your flesh as you stared at her thumb smoothing over the soft skin of your hand. she wasn't totally wrong, you wouldn't know unless you asked, and nothing would really happen until you asked either.

"do what you will with that information." hitch cleared her throat, letting go of your hands and shuffling to sit beside you, grabbing her phone on the way, then turning around to sit her back against the wall as well. a thick silence fell over the two of you, and if it wasn't for how close both of you were it would've been awkward— for you, it was you and your thoughts talking, but for hitch?

"so... who are we inviting again?"

2 days.

"what do you think of these?" you flipped over the packet of balloons examining the details scribbled on the back, waiting for a response— but to no avail. you didn't receive one.

you turned around, expecting to see a nest of ash brown hair hovering over you as well as doe hazel eyes, but jean and connie were nowhere to be found. a groan of annoyance left your lips and you slipped the packet of balloons into the shopping basket that was hooked around your arm. "i guess these will do."

today felt slow, no progress felt like it was made albeit you running around a family dollar looking for simple birthday decorations, while your friends ran around looking for only God knows what.

you weren't sure if it was because this task was somewhat easy, or maybe because in a couple hours you'd be returning to your shared apartment with eren, continuing to sneak around as if you weren't planning an event. continuing to have to ignore his questions when you'd come in a little later than you usually do, because if you had said you were hanging out with one of your mutual friends he'd look at you funny— ask why you didn't take him with you.

he wasn't wrong, his friends were his friends before they were yours; he is the one who introduced you to them, you all of a sudden devising your own plans with them and seemingly having the time of your lives while he sat back at home of course rubbed him weird.

he didn't question you too much though.

he knew his birthday was coming up— he might be dense but he wasn't completely stupid. although he had no direct hint to you planning anything for him, his friends planning anything for him, the lack of mention of his birthday being soon was almost alarming. he hoped your running around without him had at least a little to do with his birthday.

and for that you thanked him, because besides your little crush on him, the whole mess surrounding his birthday made your stomach churn, having to keep something from him for so long racked your nerves and made it even harder to be around him just in case something accidentally slipped.

you dragged your feet to the isle next to you, peering down it to see the two boys you were looking for, jean and connie. you noticed them before they noticed you, connie's hands grabbing at something and throwing it in the basket in jean's hands. "guys," you said loud enough for them to hear, both of their heads whipping to look to you.

both of them slowly made their way towards you until you met in the middle of the aisle, your arm crossed and your lips pursed. "looking for decorations was fun by myself." your tone was sarcastic, and connie caught on nose scrunching at your comment, his hand coming out to pat your shoulder.

"listen, listen— i was getting eren's birthday present!" he replied, giving you a crooked smile.

your eyes darted between connie, jean and the small basket in his hands, dumbfounded. were you missing something? you didn't see a "birthday present" anywhere. you glanced back up to connie, confusion littered on your face. "where?"

connie's smile dropped, quickly turning into a frown and jean let out a short chuckle, connie glaring at him. he pointed towards the basket, then grabbing it and tilting it towards you. "snacks, and candy and shit. who doesn't like snacks?"

you looked into the basket, and inside was an arrangement of snacks— none that you could remember eren eating, maybe besides the flimsy bag of potato chips and sour gummy worms. "it's the thought that counts." you mumbled mostly to yourself, but both the boys in front of you heard, connie rolling his eyes and letting go of the basket.

it was ironic, because if it was just the thought that counted to you maybe you wouldn't be stressing so much over the party you were in the midst of planning. you wish you could take your own advice, and maybe be like connie and do something simple for eren without beating yourself up too much.

"shut up— we need to get a bag for it." connie mutters, but you knew he wasn't genuinely upset, he could care less what you thought of his present. if it was something he enjoyed it was most likely eren would enjoy it too. at least that's what he told himself.

"we need to get everything else for the party too— you guys left me when i was looking for balloons." your hands flew out from your sides, clearly exasperated with their lack of care for stranding in you in the isle over without a word.

"we didn't leave you, we just went an aisle over to get his gift."

"so you left me?" connie's eyes slide over to jean, who walked past the two of you, clearly trying to leave the store as soon as possible, or maybe dissociate himself from the small ruckus you were creating in the middle of the store.

"technically, no..." he murmured, walking past you as well, and you brought your hand to your forehead before speeding up your pace to catch up to jean, walking beside him instead of behind with connie.

the three of you walked in silence until you reached the decorations aisle, fingers brushing over the arrangement of decor, but you were mainly focused on the miscellaneous decorations, party streamers, tissues, table covers, and much more you couldn't name.

"jean?" he looked down at you, standing next to your figure who was crouched on the floor to be head on with the decorations seated on the small bottom shelf.

"what's up?"

you picked up two packs of table covers, in each of your hands, standing up and examining both packages, the only difference being the colors. "which one?"

jean took the white pack from your hands, turning it over then grabbing the dark green pack from your hands and looking it over as well. "they're both nice to me." he shrugged. he didn't see why the color of the table covers, or any decoration mattered so much. like you he knew eren wasn't too picky, yet you still continued to try to perfect every aspect of this party.

"well, which one do you think eren would like?"

jean furrowed his eyebrows at you, dropping both packages into the basket in your hands opposed to his— although he was helping with the party he wouldn't be paying for anything he didn't need to. "eren wouldn't care, _____."

you sighed, eyes drifting down to the new contents of your basket. "yeah, but—"

"just get both, and decide when we go there, he'll like either."

you fiddled with your hands, nodding your head and walking past jean to the party streamers— you didn't ask for his opinion, reckoning you'd get the same answer, so you slipped both the white streamer paper and dark green into your basket, making your way towards connie who was plucking a small paper bag from the rack.

"i'm gonna put it in this bag." connie said as soon as you had stopped in front of him, shoving the bag in your face, your hands coming up to lower it so you could see it more clearly. it was nice, a small blue bag with "happy birthday" sprawled on the front, in sparkly letters, and you smiled at connie who pulled it away from you.

"that's nice, i should get a bag too for his present shouldn't i?"

"well you're not putting it in a box are you?" you shook your head, it'd be better to put it in a little birthday bag then having to spend time wrapping it, so you stood in connie's place who moved aside to let you take a look at the arrangement of bags.

there were so many, but a pretty white one caught your eye, it was simple, happy birthday written in small text on the front in black, a period ending the short statement. the paper bag had two black ribbon handles that were rough to the touch when you had pulled it off its rack. "this is nice too, right?"

connie looked to the bag in your hand, nodding his head. of course he'd think it's nice, he wasn't like you— it made no difference from the bag in his hand. they were both made out of paper and both could complete the same job. you wished to have that mindset. "yeah, what did you get eren for his birthday?"

your eyes widened slightly, you were somewhat surprised he asked— or maybe surprised that he was the first to ask. you took pride in the gift you had bought him when others asked or when you had explained what it was to mikasa, but when it came to eren you were a little nervous to know if he'd like it or not. "just this custom watch, i thought it would be thoughtful."

jean came up behind connie, connie placing his bag into jean's basket. "yeah, i think he'd like it, i mean— i don't wear watches but i'd wear it once or twice."

you narrowed your eyes, scoffing at connie. "well good thing the watch isn't for you, let's go." connie shrugged his shoulders, and you went to grab paper plates and cups, even party hats just for the gag of it, soon enough making your way to the check out and buying all the supplies. your total was higher than you expected, and you blamed your indecisiveness, yet you would still buy whatever was needed for the party at hand.

the three of you loaded into jean's car, you placing the bags beside you and your phone buzzing. you pulled it out of your pocket to check the notification, a message from eren. you swiped left, having to swipe a couple times because of how fast you attempted to open the message. it was rare he texted you when you were out, especially when he knew you were out.

march 28th, 4:47pm

⤷ [attachment 1 image]

⤷  your package? where do you want me to leave it?

you knew right off the bat what it was, the watch you had just told connie about. when you had last checked the shipping date it wasn't scheduled to come today— it was one day early.

march 28th, 4:48pm

⤷ put it in my room, thanks

⤷ okay

you had dropped your phone into your lap, looking out to the window but it buzzed again, and you scrambled to pick it up once more.

march 28th, 4:53pm

⤷ wya?

⤷ in the car, i'll be home soon.

"can you guys take me home first, actually? we can take the stuff to armin's house the day before eren's party." you leaned forward so jean who was driving, could hear you, his head turning slightly as he listened.

"why?" your phone buzzed again, and just like that you forgot about the conversation at hand, diving to pick up your phone, eager to see what eren had sent now.

march 28th, 4:55pm

⤷ your car is here

⤷ oh, you're with who?

⤷ jean and connie

"i just want to go home for now, it'd be easier if we just brought everything over there when we go decorate." and even though jean disagreed, he began the route to your place instead, deciding not push any further.

although your phone didn't alert you that you got another notification, you went to go check anyways, grasping the device in your hand as you went back to you and eren's messages.

read, 4:55pm

you didn't even realize the small frown that was painted on your face, you placing your phone back into the pocket of your jacket, settling down into the seat you were sat on.

"yeah, take me home first."

1 day.

"how's this?" sasha tilted the bowl of frosting towards you, and you took a glance, the frosting a pretty shade of green, much like the flier hitch showed you two days before.

you nodded your head, "yeah, that color works.", and your friend smiled, spinning on her foot to place down the bowl of frosting beside the one of icing. she seemed more excited then you about the making of the cake. not to say you weren't excited, but it was more accurate to say you were highly strung about how it would turn out— more than you should have been.

"nico, grab the cake, i think it's chilled long enough." she dipped her finger into the bowl of frosting, putting it up to her lips and humming at the taste. "oh, yeah, that's good. eren better like this!" and you hoped he would too.

you tsked, grabbing the bowl and moving it over so niccollo could place the cake on the counter next to it. "what design are you thinking?" he asked, arm draping over sasha's shoulder as the two of them stood in front of you. although they didn't date you couldn't help but find them cute. you wondered if sasha or niccollo were in the same dilemma as you— only it seemed that their feelings were reciprocated opposed to you and eren.

you pondered for a second, recalling what you had thought up a couple nights ago. it was simple, "pipe the edges with one of those swirly tips, with the white icing, and.. write happy birthday in the middle. small letters." the small letters were somewhat of an improvisation, it reminded you of the small letters on the front of the gift bag you had got for eren.

as you spoke, sasha moved to grab the pipe tips and piping bags, as well as a spatula, placing the utensils down onto the surface next to the frosting. "i can see that in my head— it's gonna be so good, it's gonna look so good." she glanced up at niccollo, and he was already looking at her, a small smile on his face. "can i frost?"

"...you can frost with the green, i'll do the white; the piping and the words."

sasha beamed, clearly happy with whatever she could get, and she grabbed the spatula, scooping up some frosting and beginning to spread it across the cake. she smoothed the thick coat over the swirl cake, trying her best to cover the top, and you could already envision what it would look like in your head, and it wasn't bad. sasha wouldn't dare for it to look bad with how ecstatic she was to be making it, and you were sure niccollo wouldn't either.

it was mainly your idea, and niccollo and sasha would bring it to life. you would hope eren would like it as much as how much you liked the image of it in your head. "so what did you guys buy for snacks?"

niccollo made his way over to the sink, washing his hands before flinging them so water droplets flew in the sink. "well we bought the basic stuff, chips for the guac, candy for the bowls, and some drinks, plus beer at your friend hitch's request."

you laughed, hitch wouldn't be the only one enjoying it, the lot of you guys liked to drink. you knew eren would be appreciative at the gesture. "it probably wasn't just hitch who wanted it." you watched the blonde dry his hands, leaning against the sink counter. "so you're gonna make the guac, the guac for the chips?"

he nodded his head. "oh, yeah of course. i just can't make it today, i'll make it at... armin, armin's house?" his response was a question, and you nodded as well, letting him know he was thinking of the right person. "yeah, sash will get the stuff and i'll make it that day so it can be fresh."

"okay, that's good. are you gonna come to the party too?" you didn't know him personally, only having met him through sasha who you didn't know how she met him. she had seemed to have taken a liking to him, and you just followed through. after all like you said, they were cute, you wouldn't be surprised when sasha would break the news to you.

"no, i have work that day... i'll be there beforehand to help sasha and you, and everyone set up, if it helps."

"no, yeah— it'd be a lot of help." you gave him a small smile, sliding over more towards sasha to check on the cake. "so, out of curiosity; how did the two of you meet?"

sasha grinned at the question, grabbing some more frosting with the spatula and slapping it onto the side of the cake. she didn't give niccollo time to answer, mouth opening to do so for him. "culinary class! he's so fucking good at cooking, like how?" she tilted her head back to direct the grin on her face at him, and he gave her one back.

"yeah, sasha's not too bad herself either. how did you and sasha meet?" his words sounded like an understatement and you chuckled.

but you and sasha meeting? it wasn't much of a story to tell. "oh, just through eren at the beginning of last semester."

"eren? the birthday boy?"

"yeah, birthday boy... he introduced me to all of them really, nothing special." you shifted on your feet, hands coming together so you could play with your nails, looking down at your hands.

"tell me about you and birthday boy— how did the two of you meet?" you didn't know someone could ask so many questions, but it wasn't like you didn't ignite the conversation to save from the silence.

sasha's shoulders bounced as she laughed softly, and although you couldn't see her, her still smoothing away at the almost completely green cake, you glared at her.

"he's my roommate. i needed one and he needed one, and you know how that goes."

niccollo raised a brow. he clearly caught onto the way you tried to brush the topic off too fast, but so did sasha despite her being occupied. wasn't he majoring in culinary arts? not psychology— there was no reason for him to read you that fast. "and how does that go, _____?" sasha titters and you could tell she was smiling from the tone of her voice.

"fine." you were blunt, your voice montone apart from the small falter at the end of your sentence. "it's cool, having a roommate, he's nice and fun to have around."

sasha's expression mimicked niccollo's, her arms crossing and her brow going up before she walked over to the sink and began to wash the spatula, the water somewhat saving you from the awkward silence, the same one you had tried to stop earlier. sasha broke it though, and in the worst way she could.

"she likes him."

your hand slapped your forehead, and you let out an exasperated groan, both sasha and niccollo laughing at you, but sasha must've felt somewhat bad, a pout on her face as she came over to pull you into a tight hug. "sorry, but you weren't gonna say it and it's kind of obvious."

"well you didn't have to say it out loud." you didn't hug her back, one hand sliding down your face, and the other hanging at your side.

"well how else would nico know?"

"he doesn't."

nicollo took over sasha's place at the counter, not phased by your reluctance to tell him. he tidied up her small mistakes when she was frosting the cake. "sash, can you fill the piping bags?" sasha pranced over to the piping bags after letting go of you and her hands grabbed them, placing the tip on the bags and then rummaging the drawer for a spare spatula, using it to scoop up some of the the white icing and stuff it into the utensil. "so you like him?"

you sighed. she didn't have to repeat it, but still you nodded your head, and then realizing he couldn't see you. "...yeah."

"she won't tell him though." sasha added, dipping another finger into the icing and sucking it off her finger once more. did she have to reveal everything? "i don't see why, if it was me i'd just tell him, what's the worst that could happen."

your eyes glanced between sasha and niccollo.

that was ironic.

"just tell him, who knows, he could like you back." the conversation sounded too familiar, and you rolled your eyes, why did everyone think this was such an easy feat? niccollo leaned towards the cake, icing squeezing out of the pipe creating an intricate swirl that was being detailed around the circumference of the cake.

you folded your arms against the counter you were leaning against, and let out a huff of breath. "it's not that easy. we're roommates, things will be awkward." and you felt like you were repeating yourself— is this what people called deja vu?

"i think eren might like her back." sasha moved the bowl of white icing onto the other side of niccollo and hopped onto the counter beside him, placing the other bowl in her lap, fingers tapping against the sides.

"why?" you were curious, you didn't think anything hinted that he could like you, especially not with the encounter you had with him when you were leaving for hitch's.

"i don't know," she shrugged. "when you guys first moved in together he would always talk about his," she mimicked his voice, "new roommate."

you blinked, then blinked again, arms unfolding and you picking yourself up from the surface you were leaning against. eren talking about you? you wanted to hear more. "that's it?"

another shrug, and another scoop of frosting. "i mean, he talks about you in general too."

"what does he say?"

sasha squinted at you, shaking her head. "i said in general," and her hands went up into quotations, "me and ______ are going to do this, last night me and ______ did this, shit like that."

your stomach twisted, and your legs felt a little wobbly. you cleared your throat, and you wanted to speak but you were a little bit in... shock? but niccollo spoke instead, "i finished."

sasha made a small noise of joy, hopping off the counter she was seated on and pushing over the bowl of frosting, peeking around niccollo to see the cake.

you padded over, standing next to sasha to see the cake as well; and it was pretty.

swirls danced across the edge of the cake, the white contrasting the soft green that was painted over the it and smoothed over almost perfectly. in simple bold letters, "happy birthday, eren." detailed the center, a small heart added to the end.

"it's nice... i really like it, yeah, this is what it looked like in my head." and you weren't lying, it almost was like a carbon copy of what you envisioned, and you were almost surprised at how well niccollo and sasha pulled it off, not that you should be, you did ask for help of two culinary art students. "thank you, thanks so much."

your face was lit up, and sasha and niccollo gleamed smiles at you, delighted that you were happy. being able to make you happy seemed to be enough for them. "glad you like it," he said, and you pulled out your phone to snap a quick picture, pressing the device to your chest. "i added the heart for you."

your eyes rolled back but you couldn't help but chuckle, another "thank you" leaving your lips and your eyes not leaving the cake, even when he went to put it in the refrigerator. once the cake wasn't in your line of sight anymore, that nervous feeling returned out of nowhere, for no reason, and your hands felt sweaty, phone almost slipping from where it was pressed between your chest and hand.

sasha caught on, grabbing your other hand and letting her fingers fall between yours, hands clasped together, and she was radiating solace, sucking up your worries and dispelling them for you.

"he'll like it."

"you sure?"

"of course! i'm sure."

happy birthday, eren.

it wasn't a normal occurrence for you to cook eren breakfast— as a matter of fact you couldn't recall ever cooking breakfast for him.

making dinner? yeah! there were plenty of times the two of you twirled around the kitchen, bodies bumping and fits of giggles bouncing around the small space, while you muttered "sorry!" to each other every now and then.

for now, it was just you.

eren hadn't woken up yet, and so to do him a birthday favor you decided to make him a birthday meal.

you flipped the pancakes cooking on the stove, sauntering over to the fridge and pulling out the package of bacon and plopping in onto the top of the counter. you felt like you had been in the kitchen at least every day now, and you couldn't remember the last time you had actually sat down to participate in one of your hobbies, or to relax. you sure were taking this upcoming event seriously, and you were glad your friend were too.

your fingers tapped against the steel of the fridge handle as your eyes skimmed the contents of the refrigerator; you felt like it wasn't enough, there was nothing special to you about some flimsy pancakes and bacon, so you grasped the carton of eggs and closed one of the fridge doors, leaning towards the side to plop them next to the bacon.

when you turned back around to close the other door, there eren stood, you practically jolting out your skin. "jesus!" you all but screamed, your hand flying to your chest and you stumbling backwards at his abrupt appearance. "eren!"

he chuckled, closing the fridge door for you and stepping forward to stand in its place. "g'morning." his voice was still groggy with sleep, and he still looked sleepy— his eyes still swollen from it, hair messily framing his face. his hair tie must've fell out while he tossed and turned.

your hand fell from your chest and dropped down to your side, tugging your shirt lower and fumbling with the fabric while your eyes glanced around the small kitchen. "morning."

"just morning? aren't you forgetting something?" you gave him a crooked smile, and he stepped forward until his hands wrapped around your shoulders, pulling your frame against his until you were engaged in a hug, minus the fact that your arms were still awkwardly against your sides.

your body began heating up and you felt like you lost control of yourself for a minute, hands taking a bit too long to wrap around eren as well. it was nice, he felt warm, and he brang a sense of comfort, so you relaxed against him a little more. heck, you didn't need time to sit down and relax or do a hobby when you had eren. he was enough to give you a break, just being around him was enough.

"happy birthday." your voice was merely above a whisper, but he heard it— a hum that could be heard through his chest, where your head laid.

"thank you," he said audibly, pulling you away, and you wished the hug could last for a little longer, hesitantly pulling back too and letting your hands smooth over the sudden goosebumps on your arms from the air of the room. "your pancake."

you quirked a brow at him, until your eyes followed his finger, the pancake on the stove that had been there longer than it should have, and you scrambled over in realization, eyes going wide as you fumbled for the spatula, slipping it under the pancake and flipping it over to check the underside. it wasn't burnt— the underside was just a little browner than it should have been. your free hand brought the plate next to the stove closer and slipped the pancake off the pan onto the plate.

"what woke you up?" you asked, as your hands went to grab the bacon and an extra bowl, turning down the heat of the stove and moving to strip the bacon from its packet, setting them down on the pan.

"the smell of your cooking." he smiled, arms crossed from where he leaned against the fridge. he slinked over, until he was behind you, peering down as you placed the last strip of bacon on the steel pan. "who's the breakfast for? me?"

you let out a small laugh, cracking two eggs in a bowl and eren followed along as you moved to the counter, then to the spice rack, grabbing two small spice jars and sliding back to your bowl. "yeah, actually. it's your birthday, right?"

"yeah." he moved over to the fridge, grabbing the bag of cheese and throwing it down onto the counter you were working at. "i like cheese in my eggs." you shook your head but your hands still moved to grab the bag, fingers pulling the seal open and your hand dipping into the bag to sprinkle some into eren's eggs. it was his day after all.

you didn't even realize he had moved from behind you until you heard the sizzle of the bacon on the pan, his hand setting down the spatula, and only then did you realize he had flipped them for you— his head turning towards you to watch you make the eggs, you whisking at the mixture. "thank you." you said softly, eyes lingering on his curious expression before turning back to the eggs. "anything you doing for your birthday?"

it was funny, how you asked that as if you and his friends didn't plan out a whole event for him alone.

he shook his head, as you expected and you couldn't help but let a smile creep on your face as you walked over to the stove, checking on the bacon, and eren taking your spot near the eggs. he slowly began whisking at the mixture despite them already being mixed. it was a domestic feeling, one that you felt before yet it still felt fresh, still felt new and it still made you want to live in moments like these forever.

"nah, you wanna do something with me?"

your lip twitches, and you place the bacon next to the stack of pancakes. the oil drifts to the side as you lean the pan and simply stare for a few minutes, before going to the sink and dumping it. you wiped the side of the pan and spread oil onto it before placing the bottle of oil down and reaching your hand out for eren to pass you the eggs.

he does, his fingertips sliding over yours as he passes it along, and you pour it into the pan, then turning to drop the bowl in the sink. "omelette or scrambled? and you wanna go to armin's later today?"

he scoffed, fingers drumming on the now empty counter he was leaning against, like he was in disbelief that you wanted to go there again; and it seemed that way from his next sentence, him practically bringing your thoughts to life. "scrambled, and you wanna go there again, you've been there like twice this week? what's at armin's?"

the spatula flipped in your hand, and you frowned at eren. "nothing, we should just go there for a get together— it's your birthday after all." your gaze shifted to the plate of food. "can you get another plate for me?"

although eren didn't answer, the sound of plates clinking as he reached for another plate, and the closing of a cabinet told you he complied. he placed it beside the other plate, sliding two pancakes onto it, including the almost burnt one. "two pancakes on your plate?"

and you nodded your head, "no bacon." you scraped some of the eggs onto eren's plate and scraped the remainder onto yours— you weren't too hungry, but you wanted to eat with him, so you made yourself a little too. "so can we go?"

eren's eyes followed you to the sink, where you placed the pan down, the steam rising from the water hitting the hot pan much like the steam rising from the eggs. you came back over beside him, hand patting his side lightly to signal him to move over a little so you could open the utensils drawer. his answer was reluctant, but you didn't think it was necessarily because he didn't want to go— you weren't sure what it was. "i guess, what time?"

you grabbed two forks and two spoons, placing them onto each plate and clasping your hands together, in content at not only the two full plates (if you'd consider yours full), but also at the confirmation from eren next to you. "like... seven? i'm gonna leave earlier though... i have some errands to do."

eren raised a brow, but shook you off, as if he just accepted you running around the usual now. he grabbed his plate and you grabbed the syrup before following behind him until both of you were sat at the dining room table. he couldn't help but still question where you were going though. "what errands?"

you repressed yourself from rolling your eyes, sliding the syrup across the glass table until eren's hands were wrapped around it, popping the top open and drizzling the sticky liquid over his pancakes. "i'm just gonna run to the store real quick, we'll meet up at armin's place."

eren once again didn't respond, pushing the syrup back towards you and poking at his pancake.

with a small sigh you slipped your phone out of your pocket and unlocked it, pressing a few buttons until you and armin's messages were open. your fingers danced around the screen until you began typing.

march 29th, 12:34pm

⤷ i might have to come a little later than i wanted to, spend some time with eren

⤷ ok, i'll text them to come earlier!

⤷ tysm, i'll probably come around 5

you placed your phone down on the table face down. you were somewhat surprised by armin's response time, but you were grateful nonetheless. you'd spend a little more time with eren, it wasn't a big of a deal, not even the small feeling of nervousness that came back was a big deal. with how well everything was going you were sure they could deal without your for a few extra hours.

when you looked up, eren's palm was holding his head up, as his other hand cut the pancake in front of him, a small pout on his face. you almost felt bad, if in the back of your head the surprise party didn't linger you probably would have felt bad. you gave a weak smile, and tapped the glass table to catch eren's attention. "eren,"

"hm?"

"happy birthday."

a few hours.

a few hours until eren's party, a few more hours of planning, few more hours of jittery feelings and sneaking around eren.

maybe a few more hours of questions, questions from eren, questions from your friends, questions for your friends.

"armin, pass me that last streamer."

armin took one of the white streamers from the table next to you, placing tape on the tip and you stepped down from the chair you were standing on to grab it. once you taped it your hand swam through all the streamers that were adorning the wall. they had came down from the ceiling, connected to the wall and then came down like a waterfall, a jade green, light green and white patterned across the wall.

"does it look good?" you asked armin, and his hands went to touch the streamers as well while he nod, surprised at how well you pulled off the design. hitch didn't seem to be the only creative one in the friend group.

"of course, of course, it looks really nice, it's creative too."

as you were about to respond, the pop of a balloon made you and armin flinch, both of your necks snapping towards the sound, connie and sasha both standing their frozen, the remnants of a balloon in connie's hand, sasha holding back her laughs.

stepping down from the chair, you sighed, and armin pat your shoulder. "i'll go help them with the balloons, don't worry." he stepped away, heading towards the living room to do just as he said.

you made your way towards the kitchen, deciding to check on the progress in there, mikasa cutting up tomatoes for the guac that niccollo was preparing, her hands moving flawlessly as she chopped away. "want to help?" she asked, not even looking up to see who walked in.

you had nothing better to do, everyone occupied with one or more aspects of the decrorating, so you said a "yeah," and she dropped the knife, placing another tomato down and grabbing an onion and another knife to begin chopping beside you. "how is it going out there?"

"out there" wasn't too far, you looked over your shoulder and armin, sasha, and connie were arranging the balloons, tying them with ribbon and letting some stray ones float. "they're doing good, i think, thanks for helping with the food."

"no worries." she continued to slice at the onion, but something else was itching her, and she couldn't help but ask. "how did you get eren to not follow you here?"

"'was hard, i hung out with him for a little longer, that's why i was late... and i told him i was running errands." you and eren didn't do much when you were with him, yet you still had fun, even though it was something as simple as chilling on the couch and watch television together. like you thought earlier, eren's presence was enough.

mikasa's head shook, scooping up the onions and placing them in the bowl where niccollo was working, squeezing a lime into the mashed avocado. "didn't take you as a liar," she joked. "what time is he coming?"

you shrugged, eyes glancing to niccollo who was mixing together the guac, then trailing to the grocery bag beside it. "probably around seven like i asked, i don't know. can you grab me some big bowls?"

mikasa went to grab a large clear bowl, placing it down beside you gently. "here," she handed you the bowl, a section in the middle for the guacamole.

"do you think he knows we're planning his surprise party?"

"he might have an idea about it." mikasa replied. "but not a big one, the other day he called armin asking why we didn't invite him over."

your hand stuttered, and you almost cut your finger while slicing the fruit in front of you. "what did armin say?" eren didn't question you further after you told him you had went over to study, so your lie couldn't have clashed with whatever armin told him.

she took the knife from your hand, using it to slide the tomatoes you cut off the cutting board and into the guac. you pulled the bag of tortilla chips out of the grocery bag and opened it up, pouring it into the clear bowl.

"armin didn't say much, he just said you had passed by and that it was nothing special."

you let out a sigh of relief, moving the chips around then pushing the board towards niccollo. "nicollo, put the guac in the middle when you're done." another bag, and another bowl that you poured the contents into. "when i got home from your house few days ago he asked me why i went without him and i told you i grabbed some calculus notes."

"that's close enough." she grabbed the bowl of tortilla chips once niccollo put the guac in the middle. "i'm gonna put these on the table."

"and i'll put the rest of the snacks in the bowls, you can help out there." niccollo told you, pulling the bowls away from you and ushering you out before you could say anything, his hands on your shoulders moving you to the entrance of the kitchen. you didn't question him, just taking your leave and heading towards the living room, wanting to see how the others were doing.

the decorations were coming together, balloons creating an arch around the television set, "happy birthday" letters connecting from one end of the wall to the other, hanging over armin and connie's head, and more balloons connecting together on either side of sasha and jean who were sat sitting on the couch.

it was beautiful, the greens, silvers, and whites all complimenting each other, from the table cover, to the streamers on the dining room wall, it was all a pretty sight to look at and you were filled with bliss, bliss at the fact that it was working out like you had planned, at the fact that your friends and you could put everything together so well.

"guys, you guys did so good!" you sounded cheery, and they caught on small smiles appearing on their faces at the joy on your face, it seemed seeing you happy made them happy too, just like sasha and niccollo. "i really love it!"

"see, i told you she'd like the arch." armin commented, hand pointing to the arch of balloons. "they wanted to just put balloons everywhere, i thought you'd like it if we made it more uniformed." and he was right, you did love it, it was more than you asked for, more than you expected them to do.

"yeah, no, i love this." you had pulled out your phone, preparing to take a picture but stopping for a moment, looking at the time. it was almost seven, and so you decided to text eren instead.

march 30th, 6:43pm

⤷ you can be on your way soon!!!

"i told him he could be on his way like an hour ago." a red solo cup was in your hand, and you were standing with hitch in the kitchen, her sipping at her own drink. you were getting fidgety, almost an hour had passed and eren wasn't here yet, nor did he respond to the last text you sent him. maybe he forgot?

"maybe he got caught in traffic." hitch shrugged, "i don't think he forgot." it was like she read your mind, but it didn't help to calm you— traffic didn't even sound plausible with how near you and eren's apartment was to armin and mikasa.

"traffic? seriously, we don't live far from here, he would've made it sooner than now."

armin frowned at hitch, "maybe not traffic, but maybe he's still getting ready, you know eren's always a little late places... just relax until he gets here." his hand reached out, palm up. "want me to refill your drink for you?" you knew he was just trying to ease you up, get something in your system and relax you until eren would arrive.

you were about to hand him your drink but then your phone vibrated, the light flashing from beside hitch and she picked it up for you, eyes moving back and forth while your screen illuminated her face, and you tried reaching for it but where she sat on the counter top she could easily pull it out of your reach, and that's exactly what she did, your hand stretching for your phone while she read it from where her arm was above her.

"hitch!"

"it's eren, he says he's here."

your eyes practically popped out your head, and you turned to armin, placing your cup in his hand, the liquid threatening to spill over the edge with how fast you shoved the flimsy cup in his grip, almost crushing it. "be right back!" you said loud, speeding past your friends to leave the kitchen and get to front door.

your heart pounded in your chest as you exit the kitchen, butterflies filling your stomach. you spun around the bodies of people (which was more than you expected hitch to invite) rushing to get to the front door, to get to see eren, to get to show him everything you all put together.

you almost stumbled over your own feet, apologizing to whoever you bumped into but not daring to look back, because the door was right there, and another burst of restlessness filled you when your fingers wrapped around the cold metal knob of the front door,  the air that hit you raised goosebumps on your legs when you swung that same door open.

you rushed out the door and down the steps, almost missing one in the process, but it didn't matter because there he was, those same wispy hairs you knew he never tried to tame even on his birthday still framing his face, blue green eyes steadying on your figure running towards him, and plump lips breaking out into a smile that you never knew you'd be so happy to see.

eren, he was here, after you didn't know how long, and you were happy, you were so happy you didn't stop running, crashing into him and causing him to stumble back, but god the small chuckle, the feeling of his smile against the top of your head was so beautiful, so relieving.

"eren," you pant out, your breath fanning his arm, and you pressed yourself against him more, like he'd disappear if you let go. "eren, you're here."

"i'm here." your eyes squeezed shut at his words, at the feeling of his arms wrapping around your shoulders, letting you get as close to him as possible, your legs in between his and your head pressed against his chest like earlier in the kitchen. you never thought you would be so happy to see a person, and even though all the two of you ever did was hug it felt so new and so fresh.

you felt like you had been hugging him for only seconds, but when he began pulling you off you didn't complain because there was much more to show him, so many more things for you to be nervous to show him, but wanted to show him anyways because only god knows how long these things took to make for him.

"what took you so long?"

he scratched the back of his neck, tongue sliding over his lip as he grabbed your hand, the two of you slowly walking back towards the apartment. "i had fell asleep, sorry, i'm here now— i couldn't have missed much?"

"jesus, eren, i thought you forgot!" you cursed his stupidity. seriously? falling asleep moments before his party? he had you worried he was gonna miss it, and he could've.

"no, no, i didn't forget. being home alone is boring you know, so i took a nap." you looked down. you did leave him alone for a couple hours, on his birthday at that, but what he would see in a couple minutes would hopefully make up for it.

his eyes raked over you. "you look nice... and to think it's my birthday." he smiled, and although the moon was out, little light being casted on the two of you he didn't fail to notice your attire and compliment you, your hand squeezing his a little more.

"thank you," and you did the same, letting your eyes look over him, quirking a brow at his appearance; a sweatshirt that was covering the undershirt that was peeking through his collar, and some simple jeans— so much for it being his day. "yeah, you didn't dress up much, it's your birthday eren."

he began to swing your hands back and forth, not seeming to care much for your comment. "i woke up late, i just threw something on."

a silence washed over the two of you as you made your way up the steps, and you almost didn't want to go inside. you wanted to talk to eren a little longer, have it be just you and him a little longer because you knew he wouldn't be at your side for too long once you returned to the house.

"ready to go inside?' you asked as if he genuinely had a choice, but for some reason you still felt a bit sad when he nod his head, pulling you to the door with him.

your hand twisted the knob of the door, and if only you could've watched eren's face once you swung it open. a roar of "happy birthday, eren!" flooded both of your ears and eren quickly became the main attraction. he was the main attraction, it was his day, his birthday.

his mouth dropped open, eyes widening and eyebrows coming up in shock— no in awe, and it was no longer a "small" birthday party that he had in his head, there were lots of people he could recognize, lot of eyes on him, and pretty shades of green dusting the room. you felt his hand squeeze yours in return, and he almost didn't even notice his closest friends crowding around him.

"eren! happy birthday!" hitch pat his shoulder, beckoning for him to bend down a little bit, a party hat in her hand that matched the one on top of her head. his gaze broke from the room around him to his friends in front of him, and he bent down, hitch snapping the hat onto his head, you giggling at him as he adjusted it, a goofy grin on his face. if it was any other day, he probably would've refused to have such a silly hat on his head.

"yeah, happy birthday." armin said smiling happily to finally see eren, and smiling to not see you worrying anymore about his arrival. mikasa stood beside him saying a small "happy birthday" as well, and eren stepped forward to give both her and armin a hug before stepping back beside you again, his hand never leaving yours as he did so.

"do you like it?" the question was urging you to ask it, and eren looked down at you again, your nail pulling at your lip while you waited his response.

"do i like it?" he pulled you into a hug too, squeezing your shoulder. it was obvious to him, of course he liked it— how could he not? "so you planned this?"

"we all did."

"who's we all?"

you scanned the room, but it was only you, hitch, armin and mikasa standing in front of eren. "well, the four of us and jean, sasha, and connie too. i don't know where they are though, probably the kitchen."

"i love it, i really do, thank you guys so much."

you felt like a weight had been lifted off of you, like you were free from a burden you had placed onto yourself. everyone told you he would love it, and you knew it too. although, the feeling of eren himself telling you was a relief that never felt so good.

"i'm glad, let's go see the others." so eren's hand that was still intertwined with yours had pulled you along, the other three dispersing to do their own thing. small "happy birthdays" were said to eren as he passed people, and he occasionally stopped to greet someone he knew well properly while you stood back waiting patiently for him. hitch did him justice, most if not all the people he did know, even if you didn't, and now would be a great opportunity to get to know some more people but you chose to stay beside him.

when the two of you had entered the small space of the kitchen, sasha was standing with a plate next to connie. "eren, happy birthday!" her voice was muffled by her food, her covering her mouth as she spoke, but you could tell she was elated to see him with the way she perked up at the sight of him.

"yeah, happy birthday dude." connie blew a party horn in eren's face obnoxiously, and eren's face scrunched up, although you knew he didn't mind, as matter of fact probably the complete opposite. he was almost too happy and you could see it in his walk and his face.

"thanks guys, and thank you for planning this all out."

"thank _____ for getting us off our asses and forcing us to plan this shit." connie quipped, and you would've knocked his head straight if you didn't catch the jest to his tone that made you and eren chuckle.

he looked down at you after connie had pinned the party on you again, "so it was you who planned all of this basically. that's why you kept leaving?"

"yeah, i was planning shit out with them— i wasn't trying to leave you or anything." getting that off your chest felt equally as good, and it seemed that eren felt relieved as well, apart from the way his grip finally slipped from your hand.

"good... good, i love this, you did amazing, i appreciate this a lot." no words were enough to explain how much eren really appreciated you, appreciated everything you were doing for him— so all he could do was hope that you knew. "i'm gonna get a drink and look around, okay?"

"i'll be here." but your reply was short lived. instead of staying with connie and sasha you went to find armin for your drink. you needed it to calm the jitters that you were feeling, and you were glad when you caught him chatting with another blonde, who you surprisingly recognized but sadly couldn't recall her name.

"armin, my drink." the red cup still rested between his fingers, and at the sound of your voice he looked up, immediate remorse on his face when he saw yours, then looking down to the cup before passing it your way.

"i'm sorry, i forgot to fill it up." when you looked down into the cup it wasn't full, the liquid from before still swimming in the bottom. it was fine, everyone was occupied, trying to have fun and so you didn't mind, you'd just fill it up on your way to the kitchen, no big deal.

"who's this?" the girl turned to you, eyes bored as she tapped against the cup in her own hand, and armin looked between her and you, perking up. it was a chance to try to socialize, try to make friends, and you tried to take that chance.

"oh! annie, this is _____, she planned this all out, eren's roommate."

"hey!" you gave her a small smile, hand out for her to shake it, and she did, giving your hand a light shake before letting go. she didn't seem too interested in conversation with you, her blue eyes flitting over to armin every once in a while, while her feet kept turned towards him. "i think i've seen you around before, you look familiar."

she looked you over, studying your appearance before coming to the conclusion that she has seen you before. she put her cup to her lips, drinking before responding. "i'm here sometimes— armin's house."

armin next to you let out a nervous laugh, cracking his knuckles while listening to you and annie's conversation. "yeah, you've probably seen her around before, she comes here often."

you shrug, not sure if you had ever seen her at armin's place. although her face was familiar you couldn't really recall who she was, and you blamed your lack of socialization. you'd keep her name in your head, hopefully for future reference. "probably, but nice to meet you anyways."

armin waved, and you waved back before heading back over to the small crowds of people to get to the dining room, a selection of drinks splayed out for anyone to come and grab as they please.

hitch was there, seated on a table chair she pulled out, sliding a soda can towards her to pour in the alcohol that was already in her cup. she only noticed you when you walked over to stand right in front of her, her eyes gazing up at you before averting her attention back to her drink. "couldn't have asked sash to get some better booze?"

your own arms reached over to do just as her, a can of soda in one hand that you poured inside what was already in your cup— it upped the alcohol, and overall tasted funner. "don't think it was sasha who got it." you replied, taking small sips of your drink as if you were taste testing it.

"hm," hitch did the same, taking a swig of her drink before twirling it in the cup, setting it back down on the table in front of her. "i told you he'd come, and that he'd like it. you were stressing for nothing."

"yeah... i guess," you went to grab the chair diagonal from hitch, pulling it out from behind you and plopping yourself down in it. "where is he anyways?"

hitch looked ahead of you as if she was genuinely trying to find eren before looking back to you with a shrug of her shoulders. "not sure, he was over here a couple minutes ago with jean getting a drink." you missed him by a hair, and your shoulder slumped a little lower.

"he was over here?"

"why, you looking for him?"

you sunk down in your seat a bit, your feet tapping together while your fingers pattered against the plastic of your cup. you weren't looking for him per say, you just wanted to be with him, just have another moment with him, see him happy and see him enjoying himself in what you created.

"eren has got you fucked up— you need to, and i cannot stress this enough;" she pointed her cup at you, "just tell him." hitch let out an exaggerated sigh, her scooting down in her seat as well as she drank her drink again.

"hitch, please, i don't think you've understand how many times i have been told that this week, and nobody seems to understand how not easy that is." and you were right, it wasn't easy, there was too many problems that could arise if it backfired. you'd rather pine for eren for the rest of your life if it meant that things would stay natural between the two of you— if what you had going on now stayed.

"or you're just making it harder than it has to be." she had a challenging look in her eyes, placing her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her knuckles, a small smirk on her lips.

you gave a her a questioning glance, not looking too long and shifting in your seat. maybe it was harder than it had to be. maybe it was your nerves telling you otherwise, maybe you were following the pounding of your heart and the butterflies in your stomach.

hitch looked you over, shaking her head with a small giggle before pushing her head from under her and standing up with her beverage. "i'm gonna go tell connie to change whatever the fuck is playing, i'll catch you later." and she walked around you, body disappearing into the bodies of people leaving you by yourself.

but not for long, a hand on your shoulder making you jump, you turning around and seeing eren, towering above you, a slight smile on his face. speak of the devil, it was the man of the hour— just who you wanted to see, and who you were happy to see. "hey."

"hey," you stand up almost too fast, pushing in the chair and standing in front of him. he steps back to give you some space, almost caught off guard with how fast you stood up. "what's up?"

he leans into your ear, making sure you're able to hear him over the sound of the music and the chatter of the people around the two of you. "want to go outside for a little bit? it's kind of too many people, just wanna get some air." the faint smell of alcohol is present on his breath, and it reminds you to grab your cup, nodding your head and taking his hand in yours— where it felt snug and right, just like it did earlier.

the two of you make your way out the house, and the air did feel good, it didn't feel stuffy, it wasn't loud, it was calm and quiet, the breeze of the night only chilling you slightly, but eren next to you made you dead to the breeze.

he walks forward, only a few steps and you follow along, until both of you are leaning against the railing that kept you from falling a couple feet or so, cup dangling off the edge in your hands, and the moon so bright in the sky it only felt a couple feet away.

"i feel like you don't know how much i actually love this." he starts, and when you look at him he's still staring at head, the glint of the moon making his eyes look ethereal, illuminating them in only the best way possible. "how much i appreciate this, this party, everything."

"i know, eren," a grin can't help but form on your face, and you could hear the words come from his mouth again and again. the feeling that his appreciation sent through you gave a sense of pleasure, a satisfaction and it brought a form of closure. "i know."

it's just quiet, it's nobody talking and it's just the two of you. you're allowed to relish in eren being beside you because that's what you wanted from the moment he arrived, you wanted to be with him, and so despite the two of you not talking, he was enough. the sound of his light breathing was enough, the heat radiating off of him was enough, the sight of him was enough.

yet, you break the silence.

"do you wanna see what i have for you?"

he finally looks your way, and his eyebrows are knit, pink lips only slightly parted, and your eyes can't help but flit down to them before coming back up to his eyes. you weren't sure if he missed your quick glance or not, his lips closing. "there's more."

"if i can recall, you get presents on your birthday right?"

this time, you're the one to grab his hand, and his fits in yours like a puzzle, and you're the one to pull him down the steps that you had ran down earlier, him being the one to finally trail behind you.

you walked him to your car, your hand digging in the pocket of your coat that albeit the warmth of the party you had managed to keep on, and you grabbed your keys, your thumb pressing down onto the black button that made the lights in the vehicle flare up. you place your solo cup on the roof of the car and your hand grasps the car doors for the backseat, opening it up and being greeted by leather seats and a small white bag.

you almost couldn't fathom that this small white bag only days ago you cared so much about, that the ribbon that your hands were holding onto mattered so much to you, the small lettering on the front mattered so much to you— and only moments ago eren couldn't express his enthusiasm for the party you planned for him.

all your friends who had repeatedly told you not to stress were right— if eren loved a stupid dirt cake, and a little embroidered letter, he'd love anything you gave him from a small paper bag or a couple of snacks to a watch, to a party.

you moved aside and eren moved forth, making himself comfortable on the seat of your car while you placed the bag in his lap, and he looked so adorable; the party hat that was splashed with color leaning a little too far right, and the cheerful smile on his face as he moved the tissue aside and peeked into the bag closely, before his head shot up and him beaming at you instead.

even though he didn't even see what was in the bag yet, his hand came to his chest dramatically, acting way too surprised for someone who wasn't even sure what you got him yet. "for me?"

you rolled your eyes gesturing to the present. you wanted him to see it so you ushered him on. "yes for you, now hurry up and open it, it's kind of cold out here." the cold was nothing to you today, your coat kept you warm enough.

he wasted no time complying, pulling out the small black box, a pretty suede under his fingers as he pulled off the lid, and his eyes shone as he did, another look of awe gracing his face as he stared at the contents of the box. you were so giddy, seeing the look of surprised wash over his face, that same feeling of satisfaction you received earlier came over you again and you were practically bouncing on the balls of your feet as you watched eren.

it was a watch, the face of it a black and white photo of him and his mom when he was young, and you were to thank mikasa for finding the photo for you. the band was a matte black and the metal detailing the accessory a pretty gold that matched the key necklace that hung around his neck almost at all times. you hoped that the watch would become like the necklace— something he wore almost at all times.

he looked up at you, and although he was sitting down he pulled you forth by your wrist. the action caught you by surprise, his free hand holding your waist and his head buried into your stomach, and almost by default did your hand go up to play with the free strands of his hair, smoothing over his head, playing with his half assed bun and carding your fingers through his soft locks.

your heart was melting, you could almost cry— and you never knew that seeing the joy and admiration of you on someone else's face would mean so much to you, you never knew that making someone else happy was something that made you happy, especially when it came to someone like eren. it was the same expression that your friends had when they saw how happy you were when you all came together to complete another task for the event, and now you could feel what they felt, except tenfold.

so you let him press his head against you while he examined the watch, you were fine with staring over the roof of your car into the distance of the night, staring at what would've looked like nothing to you if eren wasn't in your arms.

it was all something, the tall trees whereas the green leaves on them was only visible because of the moonlight, the arrangement of cars spanning down the parking lot ahead, little things you wouldn't have thought twice about. little things that somehow eren made you recognize, eren made you hyper aware of how the little things mattered, in the worst sense at first, having you constantly stress over the little things. but now you were somewhat happy you took your time on these little things, because the little things that might seem like nothing to you, could mean the whole world to someone else.

you realize that eren would have been happy with anything that you wanted to give to him, no matter how little or big not because of what it is, but because of who you are and the thought that went into it.

you almost missed the small blabbers of "thank you" that left his mouth, his lips moving against the fabric of your dress, and your coat brushing the tip of his nose. it's only when he stood up and said one more to your face that you realized he had been talking to you the whole time.

the bag wasn't in his lap no more, and neither was the box, the watch now around his wrist, and it suited him perfectly, it complimented him so nicely, although it was a simple watch (which to be fair, it was the exact opposite of simple to him). the only thing still the same was his arm around your waist, and the soft expression on his features.

it wasn't that hard, it couldn't have been that hard— not now, when you finally realize that eren is eren, and he'll be happy with you no matter what, no matter what you give him, no matte what you say to him.

"eren?"

"yeah?"

"i like you."

if this was a few hours ago, you would've choked up on your words, your heart would be racing and your hands would be a clammy mess. hours ago you would've refused ever confessing to him, it wouldn't have even crossed your mind once.

hours ago, you didn't know eren as well as you thought you did because you were too busy worrying about the what-ifs, worrying about the little things that he would've loved anyways.

his expression didn't change, and yours didn't either because you were at peace, and your shoulders felt lighter just because he now knew.

"______?"

"yeah?"

"i like you too."

that was all that it took.

that was all it took for both of your hands to cup at his face, and pull him closer while you stood on your tippy toes, foreheads touching, then nose, then lips. all it took for you to feel so loved and complete, all by the feeling of his lips against yours, the synchronization of them moving together made you giddy again, made you happy.

your noses bumped but it was okay, your teeth clinked but it was okay, you both giggled into the kiss, not being able to shake the overwhelming feel of it that somehow still kept you feeling at peace.

he pulled you impossibly close, and he kissed you until he couldn't breathe anymore, taking his time sucking on your lips, savoring every taste of your skin and the way your lips felt. the kiss alone was the cherry to his birthday— scratch that, you were the cherry to his birthday.

and when the two of you finally pulled away for air your head fell forward onto his chest almost immediately, his head resting overtop of yours and keeping you safe in his arms, safe against him. "happy birthday, happy birthday, happy birthday." you were the one to blabber now, and you weren't sure if it was a distraction for the tears that threatened to spill or not.

he pressed a chaste kiss to the top of your head, swaying both of your bodies back and forth gently, swiftly, and kindly. he didn't respond, but he didn't need to respond, his love being thrown back at you just by the way he held you.

you could've stayed in this position forever, you really could've but the sound of armin calling for eren from the top of the steps is what broke the moment for the two of you, and what made matters worse (or better) was hitch standing right behind him, a leer on her face that made you let out a sigh.

"hey! eren!" armin almost doesn't realize that it's you right below eren, but when his gaze darts down to you for a millisecond he has to do a double take that causes him to break out in a smile, turning to hitch for a confirmation which she gives with a nod. "we were looking for you, we have to cut the cake!"

eren looks down at you and reluctantly lets you go, shutting your car door for you and grabbing your cup. "you can go back inside we're coming." he announces, and even then armin and hitch don't move, both leaning against the railing like you and eren earlier, as if something would come next between you and eren— you had to chuckle at this.

when you and eren began walking hand in hand, for the first time you didn't worry about what he'd think of the cake, you didn't worry about if he'd like the color, or the taste, or the shape, or anything for that matter, because you knew eren would appreciate anything you'd throw his way.

"hey,"

he looks down at you, and the calm look on his face almost mirrors yours. "yeah?"

"happy birthday, eren."

[donutloverxo]

Just for Mrs Barber

Note - Written for @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes and @amythedvdhoarder 's hoelentine's fic swap challenge! My giftee was the beautiful @kaminorogers . I hope you all like it.

Shoutout to beard kinks resident hoe @sweater-daddiesdumbdork for all her help with this and to my dear friend lizzygal (link to ao3) for the beta.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Summary - Your husband buys you kinky gifts (and a whole ass house) for your anniversary/valentines.

Warnings - 18+ only please! Explicit sexual content, beard kink, bondage, blindfold, dom!Andy.

Pairing - Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 2.6k

You were sure you heard Linda say something, her voice was mixed up in the background noise of everyone chatting and some music. You couldn’t really listen, not when your husband decided that he was going to look that good and distract you, keeping you from being a good hostess.

Andy always looked good. He could roll out of bed and look good enough to eat—although maybe you were a bit biased. He was one of those people who just didn’t realize how handsome he was.

Maybe he had some sort of eyesight problem, because looking at him now. With his hair made up and beard neatly trimmed, wearing a cream sweater and some dark jeans, the whole ensemble was so basic but he pulled it off so well. His pink lips looked so delicious as they sipped on a beer.

“Mrs Barber.”

You gasped when you heard Linda call out to you, clearing your throat you looked back at her. “Yes?”

“I love what you’ve done with the house, it’s so beautiful.”

A genuine smile graced your face as you thanked her. Andy had asked you what you wanted for your first wedding anniversary, you nonchalantly told him that you wanted the most picture perfect and cosy house in the suburbs. That you were too tired of the noise and pollution of the city and longed to have a garden of your own.

Also, a bigger house would be much better if you ever have any youngins. But you didn’t tell him that. Not yet.

You were just being yourself--kind of a spoilt brat. Which shouldn’t have surprised him because he was the one to spoil you with his love and affection and the occasional material gifts.

You absolutely did not expect him to actually buy you a big ass house. It wasn’t too big if you thought about it. Just a master and two smaller bedrooms, which was what you preferred. You didn’t want to have any distance from your husband. Be it physical or emotional.

The backyard was most spacious. You could probably fit a beautiful gazebo there. But you planned on growing your own vegetables and make delicious meals as a thank you to Andy everyday for the rest of your lives. You had put your heart into decorating every single nook and cranny of the house. Having it be appreciated was most flattering.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Your husband is so handsome,” she observed and you only hummed as you looked over at him. He most definitely was. “And he helped you with cooking and setting up.”

“Yes, he did. He always helps. He isn’t one for parties but he indulged me by letting me throw this one,” you told her.

Andy wasn’t that enthusiastic about hosting a barbeque for neighbors who were basically still strangers for your anniversary/valentines. He preferred to have you to himself but with some kisses and cuddles, batting your brand-new eyelash extensions, and convincing he finally gave in.

“Mrs Barber,” Linda grinned, putting her hand on your elbow, “You’re drooling.”

“Oh, I am?” you quickly looked over at her, after admiring how perfect your husband’s ass looked in those damn jeans.

“That’s alright, I promise I won’t tell,” she winked, “you’re both so cute.”

You were gushing some more about Andy, how amazing he was and how the honeymoon phase never seemed to end for you both. But you straightened up when you saw him approaching you.

“Honey,” he said, “We’re out of ice.”

“Oh, I thought we had enough... I’m sure we could do without it,” you shrugged.

Andy snaked a hand around your waist, sipping on his beer as he looked down at you, so much more comfortable by your side. He frowned when he heard the guys calling for him, reluctant to leave your side but you nudged him and told him to go socialise.

“I’ll make it worth your while, later tonight,” you whispered to him.

He pressed his lips to your temple, the scratch of his beard against your skin making you gasp. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said against your face which was heating up by his uncharacteristic public display of affection.

After cleaning up you were finally getting ready for bed. Wiping your make up before taking your diamond studs off.

“We made so many friends too,” you wondered out loud. “It was a success in my book! I hope I was a good hostess.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you were. Come here now.” You saw him in your dressing tables mirror, extending an arm to you and inviting you to him.

“Um, well, maybe give me a moment,” you stammered, heat creeping up your neck as you scurried off to the bathroom while he called out for you.

He frowned, you never had any problem changing clothes in front of him or being naked and in so many compromising positions before him, so why now?

“Honey, I appreciate this, I really do, but.. maybe we can just do something else,” he told you, holding onto your hand which was massaging his shoulder and kissing your knuckles. He thought it was nice of you to offer a back rub, after the day he had had he needed it, but he wanted something more than that... “I’m hungry,” he licked his lips.

“I can cook something up for you, a post-dinner snack maybe,” you offered.

“No baby,” he chuckled, “Hungry for YOU.”

He kissed the crook of your neck, sucking on a spot he knew drove you wild but then frowned when he didn’t get the reaction he desired from you, in fact you felt a little... stiff.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he looked into your eyes.

“I was actually wondering if we could try something new...”

“Like what?” he pouted. He was a bit concerned, whenever you both had tried something new, it didn’t really go well.

There was that time you slipped and sprained your ankle during a very taxing session in the shower, when you surprised him at his office but then you were caught by his assistant—to this day he still can’t look her in the eye, when you insisted on tying him up but he ended up breaking free of the cuffs and spending the night ravaging you instead.

His unenthusiastic response was clearly not what you wanted as you blinked, disappointed evident on your face, “Nothing,” you shook your head, “now, where were we?” a salacious grin on your lips.

He hadn’t really tried to press on to see what your new suggestion was. He knew he wasn’t the most interesting man in the world. He wasn’t always as easy going as you were. How he even managed to get someone like you was something he could never comprehend.

“Are you ready for your surprise, baby,” came your voice from the master bathroom, “Here I come.”

You twirled before him, showing off your brand new fiery red babydoll. Which cost a pretty penny since it was the season of love.

“Whoa, you look gorgeous... what did I ever do to deserve you...” he wondered as his gaze raked you over.

“It’s actually the other way around,” you waved him off, climbing on the bed, “It’s time for your gift, Mr Barber.”

You took the book he was reading from his hands, setting it beside him and he hummed as you kissed his cheek.

“Actually...” he held onto the curve of your hips, squeezing just a little bit.

“Hm?”

“I have a surprise for you, sweetheart.”

That got your attention. You pulled away from his face, your soft lips still tingling from the coarseness of the hair on his face. “Oh?” Your heart fluttering in excitement. “You didn’t have to. You already bought us a home...” You said in a small voice, your fingers playing with the collar of his t-shirt.

“Oh, believe me, honey, it’s not just for you,” he smirked.

You watched, your fingers drumming along your bare thigh in anticipation as he went through his dresser.

“Since you want to try new things,” he said with his back to you, pulling something out of the dresser, “I figured this might be the perfect opportunity.”

You gasped when you saw, what looked like was a red silk tie and a dark blindfold.

“Wow.” Was all you could say. You had tried to get Andy to watch fifty shades with you and while he didn’t really say it, you knew that he wasn’t really into the movie or the kinky sex. He could barely stay down when you used cute pink fluffy handcuffs on him.

“I hope you can be a good girl for me,” his eyes dark as he stalked towards you, “and stay still. You never do... I always have to hold you down so this should make things easier... hands,” he commanded, his authoritative tone leaving no room for disobedience, as you held your hands out for him, gulping a lump of air and watching his hands tie an intricate knot around your wrists.

“It’s soft...” You wiggled your wrists testing the ties strength.

“Of course it is, I want you to be comfortable, princess,” he kissed your forehead, smoothing a hand over your scalp, he looked at the blindfold and then at you, “It’ll be kinda hard for me to not look into your eyes,” his brow furrowed as he put the blindfold over your head, the elastic stretching and then settling behind your ears till you all you could see was black, “Let me know if you need me to stop... or if you need anything.”

“Yes,” you nodded, pouting when you heard him pulling his tshirt off. You were so excited about the dirty sex that you didn’t even think about this--not being able to see Andy naked. You were about to whine about it but he pushed you back till you were lying on the mattress.

“This is all so exciting...” you whispered, having no idea what he was doing or was about to do, if he was looking at you or elsewhere.

“I know, honey, now you just let me take care of you.” You nodded, shivering when you felt the coolness of his wedding band against your thigh, “Sorry baby, are my hands cold?”

“Just a bit...”

You heard him rubbing them together to heat them up for you, before he touched your inner thigh, parting your thighs to make room for him, he pushed your nightie up, exposing your breasts and stiff peaks to him, “So beautiful... and all for me.”

“All for you, Andy,” you tried to close your legs to rub them together, to create some friction to calm the heat between your legs but his hold on you wouldn’t leave you any room to move.

“You need something, honey? You’ll have to use your words to tell me.”

You huffed, although you couldn’t see him you just knew he had a shit eating grin on his face. “Want you to make love to me, Andy,” you fessed up anyway.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing though. This is how I make love, honey,” you gasped as you felt his warm mouth latching on your nipple, his leaking manhood on your thigh.

“Oh...” you tried to arch your back, to pushed more of you into him.

He released your nipple with a pop, “You like that?”

He had never seen you like this, never knew he wanted you like this--so helpless and completely at his mercy. Writhing under him and craving him so badly, snaking a hand between your legs, “You’re so wet, honey,” he observed as he spread your slick around your lips, pulling a desperate whimper from you.

He sucked his fingers clean, you tasted so sweet, like honey.

He pinned your tied hands above your head when you tried to raise them to touch him, “No baby, you know the rules for tonight. I thought you wanted to be my good girl.”

“I do!” you whimpered again, your body shaking and writhing in his hold.

His poor girl, he knew how hard it must be for you. How you were obsessed with his beard. Sometimes He wondered if you loved it more than you loved him. He hadn’t shaved it off since he had met you.

“Then stay still, and you will be rewarded,” he promised you, pushing a finger inside you as he rubbed his beard against your sensitive nipples which seemed to set you off.

“Oh god,” you shrieked but didn’t dare move your arms.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, on your belly button, before settling between your legs and staring at your bare, glistening cunt.

“All this for me?” he wondered again, he didn’t need for you to answer, you were tied up and presented before him, just for him to feast on however he pleased. He sloppily licked as much of your juices as he could.

“All for you...” you shuddered as he rubbed his beard against the skin of your thigh.

Temporarily losing your vision seemed to have heightened everything, was it always so intense when his calloused fingers touched you? When he pushed three of his fingers inside you while whispering the dirtiest things in the world in your ear, rubbing his beard into the crook of your neck till you came around his fingers.

You were still dizzy from your high, you hissed out his name when he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving your cunt so void and empty.

You didn’t have the opportunity to tell him just how amazing that was, “You ready, babe?” You heard him ask as you nodded, his leaking tip against your opening.

He pushed into you, slowly and steadily to draw it out, he always liked taking his time, a woman like you deserved to be treated right. He hovered over you, staring at your face, your sparkling eyes covered by the blindfold, your bottom lip between your teeth, he pulled it out of your mouth with his thumb

“Don’t want you hurting yourself, honey,” he tutted, shaking his head as be sucked on your bruised bottom lip, fully sheathing himself inside you.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, hooking them behind his back, he was so big - the biggest you had ever had and yet it was never enough. Your cunt was greedy. You needed him deep, as deep as he could go. Exploring parts of you no one had seen or touched before. Only he ever would.

His hand circling your hips to pull you up against him as he rocked his hips against yours, “You’re so tight... squeezing me so tight,” he groaned. “You wanna come for me?” He whispered in your ear before nibbling on your earlobe.

“Yes,” you furiously nodded, your orgasm washing over you, dark spots in your vision as you felt your limbs loosen up.

“Hang on for me,” he warned you, holding onto the headboard as he chased his own end.

You sighed, hooking your tied-up hands around his neck as you felt his warm spend fill you up.

“Feels nice,” you mumbled, nuzzling his beard.

He hushed when you whined like the needy little thing that you were as he pulled out of you, untying your bound wrists.

He dimmed the lights before removing your blindfold, “There she is,” he smiled, kissing your temple as you rubbed your eyes. “Did you have fun, honey?” he held onto your chin as he made you turn your head to him, so that he could look into your eyes.

“Mm-hm. We should do this again sometime,” you yawned. You were better at being tied up than him anyway.

“We will. Happy anniversary.”

“Happy Valentine’s.”

Tags will be in the reblog! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[ellsbclls]

White Winged Dove

warnings ➛ COUNTRY!TOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY BELOVED!!!!!!!! smut, baby! (PLEASE do not interact if you are a minor), hurt/comfort, minor angst, happy ending: guaranteed!, a handful of swear words, and y/n has no choice but to have a country accent, i don’t make the rules here. extended warnings will be under the cut!

word count ➛ 9.5K

authors note ➛ i saw that gifset of tom taking a shower in cherry and my brain short circuited, so here! have a cupcake!

synopsis ➛ Tom feels like his world is falling apart, so he turns to you, the only person that reminds him of home.

extended warnings ➛ nsfw, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, multiple orgasms, unprotected f/m intercourse (please practice safe sex, kiddos! wrap it before you whack it!), a tiny tiny tiny sliver of blood!play if you squint with one eye closed.

You remember the night in waves, docile, fleeting waves that tease the rim of your consciousness before reeling back. Golden whiskey licks at the seam of your lips with each pass of the bottle, and the pond is glittering beneath the blinking trails of all the lightning bugs — tens of hundreds of fireflies, dancing in the night’s misty skyglow, rivaling the pale moonlight.

You remember the night in waves, but he is a mighty current.

You can’t scrub the memory of him from your mind, that bleak, hopeless expression that hollowed out his features. You remember how your heart split into a million little shards the second it appeared, and just when you thought there was nothing left to break, his fragile voice pleaded for you to take him somewhere, anywhere, as long as it was far.

By the time the sun spilled past your window pane, you were nothing but a drowsy amalgamation of lithe limbs, coated in morning glow as it spilled through the glass.

But behind your eyelids lives an imprint of the night before — a shimmering reflection of the night sky, and the moments that unraveled beneath its sweeping gaze.

9:17PM — You’re belting into your hairbrush, not a care in the world, and pouring your heart and soul out to a crowd of none. Somewhere between all of your clumsy twirls and impromptu choreography, you stumble over the shoebox that was poking out from under your bed, and a flurry of damp tresses and musical giggles fan across your comforter.

The walls in your house have always been notoriously thin, but what could you possibly expect from the weathered planks of wood paneling that lined your bedroom? You could hear your father’s creaky footsteps whenever he ransacked the fridge for leftovers in the dead of night, and the heavy thump of laundry that your mother would throw down to the basement, but once your radio crackles to life, and Stevie’s enchanting croon permeates the air, all those subtle nuances fades to a dull, lifeless roar.

With each passing note, the white winged dove becomes you, and you soar above endless miles of  Mississippi wood. There’s not a soul that can drag you back to the outskirts of town, force you to confront what may become of you when you land, there’s no room for trepidation where you go. There, in your own little corner of the woods, it’s just you, Stevie Nicks, and the moon.

And, technically, Thomas.

Minutes have gone by, you still can’t find the strength, nor the energy, to lift yourself up, and as your downy blankets hug your tired frame, you remain blissfully ignorant of your peeping tom.

Thomas, affectionately penned Tommy, has been your best friend, your confidante, since the very first day of kindergarten. You had pulled a pack of scented markers from your tiny, pink barbie backpack during free time, and he had pulled out the empty seat beside you, plucking, sniffing, and ultimately discarding each and every pen until the box was empty. When you asked him which one was his favorite, he asked you the very same in response, just so you’d “coincidentally” have a shared affinity for coconuts. He was oddly endearing, which is a trait that’s always stuck with him. So, even at a young age, you never wondered if he was just using you for your nice possessions, or trying to take advantage of your courtesy — he always offered himself to you at face value, and you never stopped taking as much of him as you could get.

Had you been aware that your childhood friend was waiting expectantly at your window, you may have handled your alone time with a tad more discretion — but you weren’t, and each act of your private concert forces him into an even harder position. To what extent does he let you embarrass yourself before he makes his presence known, and for how long will you bury your head in the sand before the embarrassment mulls over? He sees your stage dive as a golden opportunity, and seizes it before you begin to stir.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Three short, mild raps, uttered in quick succession, jostle you from your lavish daydreams like a bucket of ice water, and you have to squint just to make out his fair features amidst all the darkness shrouding them.

“Tommy?” A flash of his soft, earthy hues tame the wild drum of your heart, confirming your suspicions, and you fight the urge to chuckle when he innocently waves at you.

“Well don’t get all shy on me now. Come in.” You open the window just enough for him to slip through its frame, allowing your eyes to graze the sculpted plains of his back, and admire, albeit shamelessly, how his muscles ripple beneath his fitted t-shirt.

Yet, there’s something about him being in your room, towering over fixtures that once towered over him, that makes you feel uneasy. A part of you adores the way he instantly makes himself at home, but the remainder is doused in fear, fretting over his wandering hands and what they may discover, surveying little trinkets and souvenirs that decorate your desk.

“Hasn’t changed much since the last time I was in here, has it?” He notes, absentmindedly shaking the contents of a snowglobe your grandma brought you from New York, a miniature skyline of Manhattan continuously buried in a flurry of snow. Most of your playdates took place in his house, so as your friendship flourished past elementary school, and the time that spanned between your meetings grew shorter and shorter, you’d found yourselves frequenting his home for all of your endeavors. It was just easier that way.

That’s the sole reason you rarely visited your room. It surely wasn’t the suffocating atmosphere that plagued your home, or your hormonal, angst ridden brain convincing you that you’d scare him to the high heavens if he caught a glimpse of your relationship with your family — how dismal it is. How you build entire worlds, cycle through dozens of bountiful lives, in the luxury of your mind in hopes of retreating.

You’d be lying if you said the poster of Zac Efron, now lurking precariously behind his shoulder, wasn’t a glaring reason as well.

“Yeah, couple things here and there, but it’s pretty much the same.” You try to be discreet as you wander around your own room, Destination: Tiger Beat. Once you reach it, you rise up on your tiptoes to cover as much of the poster as humanly possible, but scramble for an excuse once you notice him turning. “You actually left something the last time you were here. It’s on the top shelf.”

RIP! The poster is crumpled in your grasp no sooner than his back turns to you. You’d have to give a formal apology to your wildcat once you were left to your own devices, but until then, he was banished to the most unsuspecting corner of your room.

“Jesus Christ Y/N,” His thumb fondly strokes a small, yellowed testament to your friendship, a weathered page of loose leaf etched in awry plumes of ink that perfectly encapsulate his very essence — egregiously passionate, regardless of the outcome. He had written it when he was about seven, intending to give it to the “girl of his dreams” once he met her. You can still hear his sweet, little voice echo between your ears, endearingly mistaking his r’s for w’s. “You kept this?”

“Of course I did.“ Candor coats your tongue before you catch yourself, the tail end of your answer turning to dust as soon as it hits the air. You can’t bring yourself to admit just how many restless nights you’ve allowed yourself to clamber up that oak dresser, just to read that letter over, and over, and over again, praying that if you had stared at it for long enough, his messy scrawl would transform into the words you yearned for most — that it was meant for you, that he’s loved you from the very start. “Wasn’t sure if you were planning to repurpose it for some other lucky gal.”

You lock eyes with him for the first time since he appeared at your window, and stowed beneath his reservation are faint embers of warmth, kindling behind ebony curtains as you indulge in the hearth of his gaze. Lifetimes seemingly pass before his eyes are flickering back down to his hands, and it prompts you to offer him the note. “You can have it back.”

“No, you keep it.” Your brows pinch together, and a thousand questions collect on the tip of your tongue. You wonder if he recalls the same memory you do, if he remembers the significance buried in that little scrap of paper, but ultimately choose not to dwell on it. He knows just how much you love to collect memorabilia — keep cherished memories stowed away for safekeeping — he’s just being thoughtful. “Consider it undeniable proof that I know how to read and write.”

“Ain’t nothin’ in here about knowing how to read.” You tease, catching your tongue between your canines as a smirk conquers your lips.

“Ya got me,” He chuckles, smile reaching for, but never quite meeting, his faraway stare. You are so accustomed to his teasing quips, his usual flair for the dramatics, that this half-hearted attempt at replicating it fills you with discomfort. He tries to punctuate his words by tossing his arms to the sky, but they don’t reach high enough to convince you that he’s okay. Something is plaguing him, and you won’t settle for anything less than the truth.

“Tommy,” His name is sweet on your tongue, all honeyed vowels and soft, descant consonants that command his attention. “What’s wrong?”

“No, nothin’, I just-“ he’s avoiding your eyes, which is a clever strategy on his part. If eyes are the windows to the soul, then his are a stained glass mosaic, a vibrant display of all his emotions, and you — you are but an avid observer.

“Hey, look at me,” Two slender digits underline the curve of his jaw, and with a firm grasp of his chin, leave him no choice but to meet your gaze, tender and resolute all the same. “ You don’t have to tell me anything if you’re not ready, but I can tell when someone’s been rode hard and put away wet.”

“I just, I need to get out of here, and I thought I’d ask my favorite distraction to accompany me.” He stumbles over his words, faltering over his messy façade, but you’d rather this over nothing at all.

“And where might we be goin’?” You query. You can tell that this is going to be a long night, but luckily for him, you don’t have any plans that can’t be rescheduled. Your adoring fans will just have to wait another night.

“Somewhere… Anywhere,” He murmurs hopefully, and your heart nearly sinks to the floor. You’ve never seen such a chasm of joy, not in those bright, amber orbs you study so adamantly. You’d almost deem it pain, whatever’s tugging at the frame of his optics, whatever’s depriving them of that usual, warm glow. “as long as it’s far from here.”

9:39PM — “Watch your step.”

“Can you help me?” You whine — one hand reaching out for his assistance, the other firmly clasped around a bottle of Jack Daniels. There is an awkward incline just below you, only a few inches off the ground, but tall enough to make you stumble, and he could already see you bumping your knees on the way down, so he offers his elbow as a point of leverage.

“Atta girl, you’ve got it.” He coos, reluctantly abandoning your grip once you’re safely on the ground.

Mystical, and buzzing with life, you introduce him to the farthest corner of the woodlands. Whenever the walls of your room become suffocating, your legs always give out right about here. 

Your secret hideaway. 

Where you let your most worrisome thoughts roam free, and when those thoughts seemingly wander into nothingness, you chalk it up to wishful thinking, and fail to realize that they haven’t disappeared, they just don’t belong to you anymore. They belong to the babbling brook, constantly replenishing itself and its inhabitants with fresh, spring water, belong to the frogs and crickets as they fill the night with their moonlit ballad, they belong to the night, and it’s reflection, as it wades across the face of the creek; dotted with lightning bugs or the cosmos themself, you weren’t sure. All you know is that you always returned, as if a piece of you was tethered to the very spot.

“Where are we?” He wonders aloud, raking his fingers through his downy, chestnut locks as he explores his surroundings.

“I don’t exactly know.” You confess, making yourself comfortable on the ground. Most nights, you slip off your shoes and sink your feet into the brook, but you know Tom like the back of your hand, know what kind of ideas might venture through that rascally mind of his when he spots you near the water. So, you play it safe, pulling your knees up to your chest as you peer up at him from a safe distance. “It’s nice, though. Quiet. Good place to let your thoughts wander.”

“You ever take a dip in here?” Predictable. You stifle the urge to laugh at his query, sinking ivory veneers into your pillowy bottom lip, and shake your head in response.  “Hell, if I were you, with my own nature-made swimmin’ pool, I’d bring all the boys around.”

“You know I don’t waste my time with no silly boys.” You sigh, sending him a wistful glare. 

“You sure about that?” He counters, mimicking your perked brow with eerie precision.

“Oh, I’m sure.” You huff. God doesn’t build boys the same way he built him, he took his time crafting that statuesque frame, implemented hawk-eyed precision for each and every beguiling detail you’ve come to adore. He is a man, tried and true, from his sharp, angular structure to the neverending bounds of his heart, but rather than inflate his ego moreso, you let him assume the worst. “You can take a dip if you want, though. I wouldn’t mind.”

You wonder if he can tell just how little you’d mind as a mischievous glint highlights his amber hues, but before he can even open his mouth, you’ve already pinpointed the source of his glower, already voicing your adamant refusal. “No, absolutely not. Not a chance, Tommy.”

“But why not?” He whines, bellowing over your feeble chant, conjuring the most convincing set of pleading eyes he can muster. “It’s dark, it’s humid, and ain’t no one around to tell us not to.”

“Sounds like all the more reason to not do that.” You scoff, scooting further away from him and the strength of his hopeful gaze.

“I hate to pull out the big guns, but... what if I told you that it’d make me feel so much better if you accompanied me?” You’re left to wonder what the big guns are supposed to be, if they aren’t the way he is encroaching on your personal space, crawling up the length of your legs until there is only a sliver of space between you. 

“I’d remind you that there are much drier ways to make you feel better.” You could feel your warm breath fanning across his lips, distracting you with the scent of minty toothpaste and your vanilla chapstick, ultimately failing to notice his hands, and how they’re positioned just below your waist.

It would only take one swift move to reach the small of your back, two to scoop you up in his arms, and about six more to drag you into the pond — kicking and screaming, but successfully so.

And he doesn’t chance it.

SPLASH! You’re no sooner submerged in the brooks’ murky depths, reaching out for lily pads and cattails that fail to provide you leverage, and your screams bubble into thick, smothered embers of a once irate flame. He better pray you never emerge from usunder, because he’s merely a howl away from being swept up in the tide — the tide being your arms as they force him to the bottom of the crick.

“Y/N,” your name scrambles between the slosh of the water and the pounding in your ears, but you manage to break the surface and blink spare drops of water from your eyes.

“I was drowning!’ You gasp, struggling to keep your head above water as you kick, and splash, and writhe around in the stygian abyss.

“In two feet of water? I beg to differ.” You can barely make out his comeback over his fit of giggles, but a part of you would rather this bright, teasing version of himself that what you’ve been dreading beforehand. Taking his outstretched hand, you stumble to your feet and, much to your dismay, find yourself standing in about two feet of water (which, in your defense, is a far more daunting threat to someone your size as opposed to his). You cool his inflating ego with a cold splash of water, dispersing tiny droplets from your fingers as they wave in front of his face.

You splash around in the water for what feels like forever, transforming stray lily pads into makeshift hats, dressing to the nines in the latest collection of aquatic couture, and as the moon casts a pale spotlight on the babbling brook, you occupy it’s centre, huddled in one another’s embrace, swaying back and forth amidst the shallow pools.

10:02 — You're still wet.

Drenched, really.

You’ve resorted to wringing out your hair with your bare hands, twisting the dampened locks between your fists until water pours from the follicles. You’d never once pondered the benefits of freshwater landings, but you were about to find out. A glare threatened to slice through the air, but immediately wavered at the sight of him — desolate, void, so lost in his thoughts that you’d wondered if he were even there.

God, you’re worried sick. You’ve dealt with bouts of sadness, sprinkles of melancholy, but this was downright depressing. You wouldn’t even know what to do if you tried, and that’s what worried you the most.

Thomas, your best friend, your crush, your light — the best parts of you all wrapped up in a clumsy little package while the best parts of him threaten to snatch up your heart, as if it wasn’t already his.

“Tommy?” You break him out of his reverie, but press on, scooching closer to his form, dangerously standoffish, like an uncaged animal winding up to attack, until you cross the threshold into his personal space. With a sturdy hold on his bicep, he melts into the palm of your hand, practically leaning all of his weight into you, stealing a reprieve you didn’t know he needed. “You can talk to me, y’know. It’s just us.”

“She left, Y/N.” The evening air seems still, in perfect tandem with your breath as you fear what might come out once you finally exhale. You know he’d shove all of his feelings down if he caught you shedding a single tear, and this isn’t about you, it never has been. So you hold your breath, latching onto the heavy silence that follows his confession, and pray that your chest is strong enough to smother the sob bubbling beneath its surface.

Fortunately, he takes your silence as a cue to continue. “The closet was empty, and all her cookbooks were gone. I looked downstairs and there was nothin’ there.” You don’t know if he’s finished, watching as he toys with a loose string on his jeans, but he breaks his own silence with a newfound waver in his voice.  “I had a feelin’ she was ‘bout to leave, but I didn’t think it’d be so soon. I thought I had a lil’ bit more time to say goodbye.”

Edie was a good mother, the best of mothers, and never had she drawn a line when it came to who she nurtured. When you were little kids, you’d race each other to his house once the school bell rang, tiny little bodies weaving through the stalks of corn that prefaced the farm. She would follow the shuffling crops with a heavy eye, leading you to the porch with her raspy, whimsical chime, and crouch down to envelop the both of you in a tight hug when you emerged. She was the best of mothers.

But she wasn’t the best of wives. You were both far too young to notice the signs — the nights where you found her sound asleep on the sofa by her own volition, the packed suitcase that hid underneath the stairwell to the basement, the hesitance that laced her tone when she said I love you to his father — and something tells you she wanted to keep it that way. 

Her son didn’t need to worry about his parents, and how fast they were falling out of love, and whether they really loved each other in the first place. Her son just needed to be a kid, and that is a belief she devoted the best years of her life to.

But he isn’t a kid anymore.

That’s why she fled in the middle of night, leaving nothing but a ruby encrusted ring on his dresser — her class ring. The same one he’d snatch from her jewelry box whenever she wasn’t looking. The same one he used to propose to you at the wee age of four, promising you as much of the world as a toddler could imagine.

Tears prick at the corner of your eyes as he recounts every detail, and every fiber of your being yearns to just schoop him up in your arms, hold all his broken pieces together with the strongest embrace you can muster. He doesn’t deserve that type of pain, shouldn’t have to relive it, and yet he takes it upon himself to tell you everything, to relive it for your own selfish gain.

You grow envious of the way the moon trails kisses down the slope of his nose, across the high rise of his cheeks, and over the swell of his bottom lip. There were times where you’d find traces of his mother in Tom’s features, lining the curve of his warm smile or, when the sun hit them just right, speckling his earthy hues with tiny rods of gold. Tonight, he is shrouded in a celestial spotlight, mesmerized by its waning body, and if you squint just enough, you’ll find her longing stare hidden beneath his own.

“And the worst part is that I ain’t even mad at her. Not even a lil’ bit.” He concludes, talking more to the sky than to you. “Not even at all.” When his gaze falls back to you, you can only try to cover up the betrayal, wipe the back of your arm across your tear-stained cheeks before he notices they’re even misty.

You inevitably fail, expelling a wistful sigh as he pulls you into his side, comfortingly running his hand over your bicep as he murmurs sweet nothings into the night.

“I’m so sorry. I-I didn’t want you to find out like this,” You furrow your brows, and wonder just how he would want to break the news to you. Would he let you find out for yourself, or would he bring you out to the plantation, and let you sink into the soil until the news began to blossom in the fields? Would they be cornstalks? And would they reach for the sky just like her?  “I didn’t wanna make you cry, but... I didn’t know where else to go.”

“It’s okay.” Your voice is a wash of dulcet tones, fingers soothingly raking through his damp tendrils in a silent bid to comfort him. “It’s okay, I’m a big girl. I can take it.” You’re quick to clamber to your knees, wrapping him up in an airtight embrace, keeping him from wallowing into a puddle of tears. “I’m right here, Tommy.”

“I know,” he sputters, with an edge of sorrow to his tone.

“I’m right here, I’m not goin’ anywhere.” You promise.

“Don’t say that” He whispers, and shatters any trace of consolation looming over the encounter. Your brow furrows, your heart pounds against your chest, and for a fleeting second, you feel like you're caught in a lie. What if he knows? What if he can tell just how much you’d surrender to be with him? What if he doesn’t want it?  

“Why not?” You’re near hysterics, praying that the intensity in your eyes makes up for the tremor in your voice. “Why not? I didn’t say anything I didn’t mean.” 

“I just don’t want you to make a promise you can’t keep, Y/N.” That sullen gaze resurfaces, chills the air with it’s haunting presence — that hollow stare which fosters the remnants of a bright, contagious joy, and carves a pit, just as empty, in the well of your stomach, one that aches to be satiated. He tucks a stray piece of hair behind your ear, but his palm lingers against your cheek, trying to smooth out the heavy creases in your expression with the gentle stroke of his thumb.  “Hell, I don’t want you to promise that in the first place. You deserve more than all this, you deserve the best this life has to offer you, and I’m not gonna keep you from all o’ that.”

You’ve lost track of your heart long ago, it’s dizzying tempo rivaling a hummingbird, nearly undetectable as it flitted uncontrollably, knocking against your ribs until its ultimate descent to the pit of your stomach. 

You pray that he can one day see everything that you see in him, that loving himself is as easy for him as it is for you; you hope that there is a life where he never has to feel as small, or inconvenient, as he confessed, and you wish that this would eventually be that life.

You decide that it’s time to put an end to wishful thinking. 

“Let me make something clear to you, Thomas.” You cup his jaw, firmly, and utter each word without a trace of uncertainty. “I’m not sure exactly what I want from life yet. I don’t know if I wanna spend the rest of it in this little ol’ town, or just pack my things and go as far as the wind will take me. I couldn’t tell you if I tried, but… that’s okay.” Slowly but surely, your lips give way to a sheepish grin, feeling lighter, freer, the further into your declaration. “It’s okay, because there’s one thing that’s for certain, and it’s that I’m all yours. It don’t matter how far I go, I’m always gonna come home to you.”

The silence is deafening. 

All your emotions hang in the air, crippling your air supply with insurmountable regret. But his gaze is what terrifies you the most; just as suffocating, but in a way that sweeps the air from your lungs. You knew that there would always come a time where all the unrequited feelings you’ve harbored would finally boil to the surface, fueled by the hope that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t as one sided as you thought; but under the void of his empty gaze, you wonder if you’d made a huge mistake. 

Or maybe there really is nothing — nothing to reciprocate, nothing to subdue you, nothing to salvage what little remained of your friendship after such a loaded confession — and so you scramble to assemble an apology convincing enough to overshadow your lapse in judgement.

But he doesn’t even spare you the chance, swallowing your half-hearted excuses with the firm press of his lips, pouring a lifetime of ardent desire, of longing, into the hollow of your mouth. It’s crystal clear that you’re his, the realization comes borderline cathartic. There has never been a day where your heart has not beat for him, and only him, forever threatening to spring from your chest and return to its rightful owner. The days, the months, the years of back and forth felt like a cruel jest from the fates, but now you were here, bundled in the warmth of his strong embrace, tongues curling against one another in an endless battle for dominance, and you would endure it all over again if this was where it lead

He searches for some sign of absolution, paws up and down your back in hopes of grounding himself, and you reverently provide, mustering what little strength you have left to crawl into his lap, brushing against the growing bulge in his jeans without a trace of subtlety, offering him the most sacred parts of you in hopes of bringing him home.

“Y/N,” he sighs raggedly, a half hearted attempt to gain your attention, one that proves unsuccessful as his pleas whittle into a frail, insipid shadow of what they could be. You’re too busy acquainting yourself with the plains of his body, embedding a trail of deep red marks into the column of his neck as your hands slip beneath the hem of his t-shirt. He’s built like a greek statue, you don’t even need to discard his shirt to indulge in the taut muscles tensing beneath your fingertips. “Y/N, darlin’, wait.” He interrupts your greedy ministrations by fastening his digits around your wrists. This is the point of no return, you can feel the fragile divide between friends and lovers, splintering beneath the weight of your heart, and yet you fail to concern yourself.

His digits are free to roam the high plains of your cheeks, pioneering the flushed expanse with beacons of soft, arching butterfly kisses until there’s no skin to cover, ultimately pressing his forehead against yours. ”You don’t- I don’t want you to do anything you don’t wanna do.” Seems almost redundant, you muse, to wonder if you want him when you’ve made it abundantly clear that you’d follow him to the ends of the earth. You are a pillar of salt, and as he showers you in a knee buckling torrent of kisses, you melt into the palm of his hands. If the way you’re draped against his form isn’t evidence enough, then the wetness pooling between your thighs most certainly will be, he’ll come across that confirmation once he tends to the spot you need him most.

You trace the cleft of his chin in delicate pursuit, whining as he tears his lips from their languid path, and peer through your inky lashes to meet his gaze once more. “I want this, Tom. I want you.”

“You have me. I’m all yours.” He echoes your words back to you, reverently, delivering a sacred vow from the hearth of your soul, ove you have, and will continue to, dedicate your humble living to, and you seal that promise with a bruising kiss. 

The weight of his palm melts into the small of your back, pulling your chest flush against his own as it sweeps up your spine, and you moan against his lips when your nipples press up against his sturdy chest, aching to be freed as they strain against their gossamer confines. 

You’ve only had the pleasure of making out with Tom for less than five minutes, but you can already tell that it ranks high on your list of favorite pastimes. Soft, pink petals brush against your own like they’re a flourishing canvas, and he’s trying to even out the brushstrokes, but all he leaves is a scorching flush in his wake, and your clothing, despite being bathed in pond water, do little to ease the blistering heat. It’s suffocating you, and you begrudgingly tear yourself away so that you can rid yourself of the article.

Besides, the less fabric separating you from his anchoring, toned embrace, the better.

“I’m all dirty,” Your meek voice collapses into a fit of giggles, and your feeble attempt to wring out your clothes is thwarted by his hands, venturing up, up, up, and under the hem of your skirt at a teasing pace, savoring the feeling of your warm, silky skin beneath his fingertips. You can tell he’s as desperate as you are, confronted with acres of new terrain to explore, and only so little of his patience to spare.

“I know, I’m sorry angel.” His voice is soft, and soothing, and riddled with mischief. Even if there is even an ounce of truth in his apology, you can still make out the devilish grin that toys at the corner of his mouth. “May I, m’lady?” He croons teasingly, flashing those whiskey glazed hues in a way that you could never refuse. 

“Proceed, good sir.” You counter in the most refined timbre you can dictate, a low chuckle escaping his lips as he bunches the hem of your dress in his palms, hoisting it over your head to expose the breathtaking contours and curves of your body. You can’t remember what compelled you to forego your bra, but the thought is soon pushed to the corner of your mind, making room for the warm, fuzzy feeling that conquers your insides when Tom lays his eyes on you, bared to him and only him. His gaze alone makes you feel like you are a spectacle to behold, the most enchanting vision to ever cross his line of sight. If there was even a speck of insecurity buried deep in the back of your mind, the sight of Tom’s eyes, blown wide with adoration as they worship every sinful inch of your skin, instantly quells those fears. 

He struggles to find his words, to occupy this infinite silence with anything, everything, as his calloused palms caress the sides of your waist, but all he can manage is a husky growl. One that prefaces the reappearance of his tongue, and its feverish descent from the column of your neck to the tops of your breasts, bathing your skin with gluttonous, broad strokes, and coaxing pretty, little whines from the back of your throat.

There is something so unhinged in his actions, so carnal, it summons another wave of arousal to pool against your soiled panties, knowing you have such a strong clutch on his resolve. Though, another branch of your mind races at a mile a minute, consumed by the endless possibilities that come equipped with Tom’s skill. 

You try not to dwell on the little flings that came before you, especially now, in the afterglow of your confession. The taunting, pitious gazes you shared with his hookups in the hallowed halls of your alma mater, toting a reminder that they could indulge in everything you yearned for, scorched you more than the thought of the act itself — but the rumors were just plain inescapable. If even a fraction of them hold a candle to the truth, then you are in for one hell of a night.

“You’re just as sweet as I imagined, angel.” Angel. The nickname sends sparks flying in the well of your stomach. “Can’t wait to taste that perfect little pussy. Just know it’s gonna be even sweeter when you cum all over my fingers.”

You whine softly at his words, but clench hard around nothing, aching to be filled by those unbearably long, slender digits. Nothing could have prepared you for the scene unraveling below you — his lips latched around the stiff peak of your nipple, a husky groan reverberating around the pebbled surface, and head slightly moving against the palm of your hand as your fingers tug at his chestnut locks. The long, covetous laps of his tongue mingling with the vibrations of his contented little hums make you desperate for more, arching, writhing, trembling against him in hopes of finding a semblance of relief for the ache between your thighs.

“Tommy, please.” You plead in the most convincing, fucked out tone you can muster, but he doesn’t budge, showering your other bud with a flurry of quick, relentless kitten licks. Even mother nature joins in his relentless teasing, making you squirm as the gentle breeze blows cool, summer air against the glistening bud.

This is torture, a blissful, euphoric form of torture that, despite your irritability, you would surrender to time and time again. But you fail to notice just how hard your canines puncture the swell of your bottom lip, too immersed in the stroke of his tongue, in the ghost of pleasure that stirs in the pit of your stomach each time you rut against his clothed cock. A sharp, metallic tang seeps into your mouth, hitting the tip of your tongue and forcing a trembling whimper to the front of your mouth.

The pitiful sound piques Tom’s interest, and before you can wipe the blood from your lip, your face is already cradled between his palms. “Fuck, Y/N, look at you,” His eye were wide with concern, and your heart sputters over the blistering scorch of need his compassion arises in you. “C’mere.” Dropping his forehead against your own, his tongue tentatively brushes the curve of your lips, lapping up every last drop of blood that is smeared against it. He applies pressure to the wound, cauterizes it with a searing dance of bloodstained brims, as his one hand weaves into your damp locks. You barely know how to respond, but your body compensates with an untapped sense of hunger, scraping your teeth against his lower lip as you desperately claw at the toned valley of his back.

“Please, Tommy, please. I’m dripping.” You mewl, teetering over the perilous edge of delusion, foraging between your stomachs in search of his free hand. Yet another wave of arousal pools between your thighs at the sight of him, with his puffy, saliva stained lips slightly parted, and his eyes blown wide with the insatiable need to indulge himself, to spoil you. Once your fingers circle around his wrist, you guide his hand to the apex of your thighs and urge him to feel for himself, applying the lightest of pressure against his fingers, urging him to caress your tender lips through the sodden barrier of your panties. To feel what he’s done to you. “You feel that? It’s all for you.”

“All for me,” he echoes back, mesmerized, cognac hues fading into obsidian orbs as he rubs deliberately teasing circles over your covered clit. “And you ask oh so pretty. Let me take care of you, my pretty girl.” Before you even get the chance to reply, he’s pushing your panties to the side, dipping the pad of his middle finger between your silky folds — feeling, exploring, acquainting himself with the tight ring of muscle that he plans on stretching open. 

His hesitation is nothing more than a plight at this point, you are more than willing to take anything he has to offer, and he can gather that much from the wild gleam in your eyes, so he slowly works one finger into your snug, velvety walls and curses under his breath at how heavenly you feel. You’re unlike anything he’s had before, far exceeding the lengths of his imagination as you softly clench around his digit, and it only takes a few seconds to adjust to the lithe intrusion, your walls already twitching against his shallow, testing thrusts, before he adds another.

“So fuckin’ perfect, darlin’. Love the way your pretty little cunt takes me.” A thin sheen of sweat coats your forehead as he rocks his digits at a leisurely pace. Tom is obsessed with the tiny frown forming between your brows, almost like you’re confused by the amount of pleasure building between your legs, struggling to keep your eyes open, your juices spilling past your opening to trickle down the palm of his hand. To say your experience is limited is a bit of an understatement — the whopping two men you’ve slept with prior were merely amateurs in comparison to your lover. Even if there was enough air in your lungs to articulate it, you don’t have the heart to tell him that you’ve never been fingerfucked. Period. The embarrassment almost swallows you whole.

But even without anything to compare it to, you’re convinced that you’re receiving the upper echelon of experiences.

As his pace quickens, prodding against your pulsing walls with an onslaught of keen, ravaging thrusts, you’re too busy gasping for air to notice how he’s switched his angle. Now the heel of his hand is rubbing against your bundle of nerves with each stroke, applying just enough pressure to light a spark without ever setting you off, and as the pads of his fingers pound against your sweet spot, you are reduced to a limbless puddle in his hands, doused in an ethereal glow that only he could surface. “God, Y/N, you look like an angel. My pretty little angel— ‘bout to cum all over my fingers.” he panted, voice biting the air with a wolfish gleam, canines peaking past his thin lips.

“Tommy, I’m so close.” You aren’t sure if you can hold on for much longer, dangling on the coattails of insurmountable bliss, finding a new reason to fall apart with each lewd kiss or sharp thrust. Your orgasm is already creeping up, threatening to crash over you each time he plunges into your slick heat, but you know that you want to feel him — all of him — stretching you to unimaginable lengths as he sinks into your tight little hole for the first time. “I wanna feel you. I wanna- I need to cum on your cock.”

Tom’s brows meet in the middle, and you wonder if you’ve strewn too far, surrendered the remainder of your common sense to lust and her shameless palms. “Such a filthy little mouth for such a good girl.” He whispers, wondering aloud, his free hand abandoning the nape of your neck to cup your jaw as his thumb sweeps over your bottom lip, applying just enough pressure to drag it down before letting it spring back to its pouty default. “You will, angel, you will, but I gotta get you ready first.” He reassures you, and you remember just how prominent his length is, straining against the denim cage of his jeans, and attribute his wavering tone to the sheer restraint he’s been exhibiting. But you have to admit — if his fingers are only a fraction of his length, then you are not sure just how much of him you’ll be able to handle. The thought sends you barrelling toward your climax, but not without the help of his thumb, pressing up to rub fervent, clumsy circles against your clit, his husky tenor cooing sweet words of encouragement into the space just below your ear. “I can feel you, angel, let go for me. I’ve got you.”

With one final thrust, he buries his fingers to the hilt, caressing your g-spot with a tentative come hither motion, until you are ridden with overwhelming waves of pleasure. All you can feel are your tender walls tightening around his fingers, and your thighs starting to tremble under the weight of your high. But he is spellbound, mesmerized by the swirling vision of you at your most content, eyelids hanging low over your blown out hues, your hips absentmindedly grinding against his hand, meeting his timid rhythm as he tries to work you through your aftershocks.

Emptiness soon replaces the stretch of his fingers once he slips them out, but a twitch of excitement follows the path of his slick hand, and you can’t stop from outright moaning at his shameless display.

“Just what I thought,” he murmurs. You are too captivated by the sight of his lips — pink, and kiss-weathered, and frankly obscene —  opening wide to welcome his slick fingers, gracing his taste buds with your juices, and humming around them as they coat his tongue in an intoxicating elixir . “Open up, pretty girl,” You‘re torn from your trance by the pressure of his digits, knocking against your bottom lip, begging for entry. “Come taste how sweet you are.”

Hollowing your cheeks, you graciously welcome his fingers, putting on a show as you swirl your tongue between the two digits, moaning softly as the bittersweet taste that hits your tastebuds. You aren’t prepared for the shallow, tentative thrust of his digits, or how he starts up a slow, steady rhythm against the back of your tongue — but god do you welcome it, softly gagging with each steady downstroke, spit already dribbling down your chin as you try to keep up with his quickening pace.

“Atta girl, that’s it.” He offers you a ginger smile, one that makes the tears pooling in your eyes worth gagging for. “Good girl. Good, good girl. I wish you could see how pretty you look.”

You try to reply over his digits, but your words are muffled and faint as they thud against the wall of your lips. Luckily, he’s coherent enough to notice that you’d like to speak — and who is he to stifle that sweet little voice of yours? “Thank you,” you pant, fluttering your tear-stained lashes up at him as you clamber to fill your lungs, disputing your feverish pleas as you wriggle away from the outline of his cock. The sensation of his waterlogged jeans rubbing against your sensitive bundle of nerves has you keening over him, pushing you further from his crotch, and closer to his embrace, back arched with a near-feline agility.

“Can I?” you ask, kneading your palms over his thighs, feigning innocence as you inch closer and closer to his zipper with each upstroke, and he nods, granting you permission to free him from his denim confines. In one fluid motion, your one hand unzips his fly as the other helps him kick off the remainder of his offending items, and you have to resist the urge to drool at the sight of his cock springing from his boxers, let alone his sinfully perfect, exposed form.

He’s a little bit larger than you expected — what he lacks in length, he makes up in girth, but there isn’t much to make up for in the first place. His shaft is decorated with pretty, ivory veins, ones that would no doubt twitch beneath the hot, heavy weight of your tongue, and the crown of his cock is flushed, glistening with a thin sheen of precum that makes your mouth feel conveniently dry. Your walls twitch at the disheartening reminder of your emptiness, but all out spasm as his fingers eclipse the circumference of his cock, using your juices to leisurely pump himself.

“You’re so pretty.” You sigh, a flurry of giggles floating beneath your words as you reach out to touch him, hovering just above the tip in order to send him a cautionary glance — one he hurriedly accepts, nodding his head fervently as he stutters into his grasp. A rosy hue blooms across the valley of your cheekbones as you encircle him, covering whatever he can’t as he all but bucks into your palm. His heart strains against his chest upon the realization that his hand easily dwarfs your own, watches your smaller fingers barely curl around his engorged shaft and fights the urge to cum right then and there.

No, he needs to feel you.

“Are you sure?” He asks once more, granting you a final chance to salvage what little scraps remain of your childhood friendship, but you are already committed, determined to devour every last, glorious piece of him, to prove that he is the rightful owner of you, all of you, every shimmering shade of you.The sentiment would be almost derisive if not so loving, so noble, and yet you dismiss it with three, chaste kisses upon the outline of his profile — against his forehead, the notch on the bridge of his nose, and finally his lips, warm and inviting.

“I’m certain.” You promise, merely a breaths width away from his lips.

You have never been more certain of a decision in your life, desperate to feel him nestled deep inside you, to blur the line where he begins and you end. Your fingers curl around the base of his cock, their pressure neither here nor there as they coax a hiss out of him, and you line him up with your entrance, tossing your head back as you waste no time breaching your needy hole with the bulbous head of his cock.

It’s blindingly clear that you have been given the reins, what with Tom’s finger’s seeking refuge in the soil beneath him, a low groan rumbling beneath his chest, his eyes rapt with an unspoken urgency as they survey the spot where you connect, and you relish in your paramount. Your knees dig deeper into the ground as you lower yourself onto him, and with little resistance, your walls steadily welcome inch after inch with a searing embrace, etching every delicious ridge and vein of his length to memory until he bottoms out, and you’re left with an overwhelming sense of fullness. There is a dull pain laced in the stretch of your opening, intermingling with the remnants of your last orgasm, and as you twitch and pulse around his girth, he appears like an dream before you, sifting through a thick haze of desire, wispy curls clinging to the thin sheen of sweat coating his forehead, and eyes blown wide with ripples of pleasure, of lust, that long to be indulged.

Once you’ve adjusted to him, you test a few shallow, tentative rolls of your hips, lifting yourself off the tiniest bit before filling yourself up again. He just feels so perfect, like god spent a little extra time molding him just for you, rubbing against parts of you that have never known such ecstasy until now, and you struggle to find a rhythm amidst all these new, dizzying sensations. “Poor little thing, you’re so worked up, you barely know how to take my cock.” It’s funny, how he can make such degrading words sound so sympathetic, and regardless, your body responds long before your brain can register, wildly spasming around his cock. It doesn’t take long for his fingers to return, digging into the curve of your hips to assist you, working you over his length in long, plundering strokes that steal the air from your lungs. “That feel better, angel?”

“Mhmm,” you shakily nod your head, fingers finding purchase in the broad expanse of his shoulders as you dig your nails into the freckled expanse, flooding his senses with the weak little uh, uh, uh’s tumbling from your lips each time you’re impaled on his cock. If he could lap up every hitch of your breath, every wayward sigh, he’d be drunk off the height of your unbridled joy. Hell, he can barely sustain himself as is, ravenously lapping up the beads of sweat clinging to your temple, swirling his tongue around your earlobe in its descent. Yes, yes, he’s swept up in sultry waves of you, and as your pelvis kisses his, as the air is filled with the sounds of your hips snapping against his own, he’s less and less concerned about emerging from your enchanting depths. “You got another one for me, angel? I can feel you squeezing my cock, baby, I know you got another one.” He’s delirious, clawing at the altar of your hips, and nowhere near as close to finishing as you are, but god is he eager to tear another orgasm out of you.

You, on the other hand, are a furnace, taunting flames of embarrassment licking up your insides, pooling in the small of your back, racing up your cheeks, at such arduous lengths as to mix with the coil of pleasure tightening in your core. Tom seizes the opportunity to find some leverage, pulling his knees up to rest on either side of you, planting his feet on the ground so that he can thrust up into your sopping cunt at a punishing pace, and you both can already feel the tell-tale signs of your building pleasure. “It’s okay, Y/N, you can let go.” Nothing more than a faint whisper, you indulge in the way his cock massages your inner walls, how your name sounds so filthy, yet beguiling, as it slips from his slightly ajar lips, how it blends so well with the weak little moans of his own name rolling off your tongue. “Let go for me. I wanna feel that perfect little pussy cum all over me.” His hand dips between your sweat slick forms, firmly swiping his fingers over your hypersensitive bundle of nerves, turning circles into your favorite shape, and his change in position makes the crown of his cock curve into your g-spot each time he pounds into you — so your helpless to the crescendo of pleasure that washes over you. 

A broken, startled shriek tears through your lungs, and you topple over his thighs, digging crescent shaped indents into his knees as you surrender to your climax, walls fluttering and contracting over his length as he works you over the edge.

“Oh, what a good girl.” He coos encouragingly, reaching his hand out to cup the weight of your breast, swiping his thumb over your peaked bud as his pace eases up, and it isn’t until now that you realize he’s leaning back, holding himself up by his forearms while he drinks in your pleasure-ridden form. “My sweet, sweet girl.” You can tell he’s holding back by the way his hips still stutter up into your overstimulated heat, how his cheeks, his forehead, all of his features are set with a heavy flush, how you aren’t filled to the brim with his cum — and you simply won’t allow that. 

“It’s okay, Tommy.” You whisper, carefully lowering yourself until your chest is aligned with his own, sharply exhaling as you feel him push up against your tender core. Your eyes are soft, and dazed, and oh so pretty, glittering beneath a thin layer of unshed tears, but this is about him, it’s always been about him, and as his cock twitches amidst your spasming walls, you firmly believe that you can handle another orgasm if he can coax it from you.  “Keep goin’, it’s okay. I want you to fill me up. I wanna feel all of you.”

“Y/N—” His voice is stern, but your lips are fierce, stealing whatever argument may have been building in the cavern of his mouth as you weakly tilt your hips downward, offering yourself to him once more. When he muscles up enough strength to tear himself away, he only finds a bounty of understanding, of devotion, of love, teeming at the brim of your eyes, and he needs no words to indulge himself, to yield to a mesmerising whirlpool of you, you, shimmering you.

Tom wraps one arm around your back, holding you close to his chest while you scatter soft, lingering kisses to his shoulder, smoothing his palm over your damp tresses as he hoists one leg over his hip, prying your legs even further apart so he can fuck up into you — impossibly tighter, and tormentingly more responsive as he slams into your overstimulated cunt. You can feel every square inch of him now, every long sweeping vein, the tiny sliver of skin hidden beneath his tip, it’s all crystal clear as he plunges into your weepy core, and you’re so cockdrunk, so fucked out of your mind, that you don’t even notice your hips slanting down to meet his thrusts. You’re just that greedy for another orgasm, hellbent on tumbling over yet again as he fills you to the brim.

It doesn’t take long for him to work himself to that precipice once again, the coil in his stomach pulled taut with your whimpered chant of his name, with each strong pulse of your cunt tightening over him. He buries himself to the hilt one last time, stuttering into your hips with a loud, frenzied groan, and finally teeters off the edge, dragging you down with him as you sink your teeth into his shoulder blade, pumping his hot seed into you, coating your walls with hot spurts of cum as you milk him for every last drop, the crude sound of your arousal mixing with his own making you shudder.

You both lay there for a second, safe in each other’s warm embrace, basking in the aftermath of your fortuned affair, and you cowered beneath the sky and it’s constellation clad ceiling, feeling infinitesimal, but oh so contented, beneath its glorious gaze. There, wrapped up in one another, two splintered halves mending, healing, into the whole they were destined to become — the sky was but a star in comparison to your light, your bright, everlasting light.

How did we get here? You wonder. How, oh, how is he finally mine?

You follow the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way the moon lounges across his curly lashes in a silver chaise — you survey him at his most vulnerable — and determine that you have more than enough time to find the answer. As long as he’s here, by your side, you don’t plan to wander too far.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING! PLEASE LIKE, OR LEAVE A COMMENT, IF YOU ENJOYED!

TAGLIST: @devotion @reawritesthings​

[wondersofdreaming]

Sex on Fire

Co-written with @radaofrivia​

Characters: AU Captain Syverson - Gynaecologist, dr. Syverson x female reader

Word count: 4.522

Warnings: NSFW! Smut, so smutty. Gamahuche. Licking. Bodily liquids. Fingering. Sucking. Hair pulling. Begging. And I’m out of whatever else there is, but I’m sure there’s more - let me know and I’ll add them XD

Author’s note: This story was co-written with the always gorgeous and incredible @radaofrivia​! She is the Brain to my Pinky! The Barney Rubble to my Fred Flinstone! My goddess Saga and my muse Erato! My drinking buddy and who will stay up till 4am with me to finish this story.

Please go enjoy her stories here:

Rada’s Masterlist

I do not own any characters in this short story, except the reader who is a figment of my imagination.

*Edit: The title was decided before I realised that it is a song by Kings of Leon. These two have nothing in common except for the title.

MY MASTERLIST

Sex on Fire Masterlist

Feedback is appreciated.

(Credit to original gif owner - if this is yours please contact me so I can give you proper credit)

The grey concrete building stood tall in front of you. You leaned your head back to see the top, but it was nearly impossible. All you could see were windows leading into the sky. A doorman in a black uniform stood by the entrance, watching whoever went in and out. He nodded his head with a stoic look in a greeting.

The lobby looked more welcoming than the outside building. There was a fireplace with three sofas surrounding it and a coffee table stacked with magazines. A few women were already sitting there, gossiping about the new dapper doctor that had rented the entire top floor.

You rolled your eyes and went over to the reception. A man stood to greet you with a smile, but he was talking to someone in his headset, which only took a few seconds before he hung up.

“I am sorry about that, how may I help you, miss?” he asked.

“I’m here for an appointment with dr. Syverson,” you said a little nervously.

“Ah, yes. I have a form you need to fill out,” he handed you a piece of paper and a pen, “The elevators are just right over there. Take it all the way to the 52nd floor. Another receptionist will be there to guide you further.”

You accepted the paper and went for the elevators. A chill went down your spine as the cold air from the air condition hit you. You pressed the button for dr. Syverson’s floor. An orchestral song started playing over the speakers. It wasn’t until you listened closely to the lyrics that you noticed it was ‘Nothing Else Matters’ by Metallica.

You closed your eyes, swaying to the beat of the soft drums. Lars Ulrich had been your celebrity crush as a teen, and you still listened to their older songs when you had a bad day.

The elevator doors opened with a loud ‘ding!’, pulling you out of your trance. Another receptionist stood at the opposite side. She looked up from the computer and smiled.

“Welcome to dr. Syverson’s clinic. Do you need help filling out the paper?” she asked nicely. You quickly scanned what you needed to scribble down. It was mostly your personal information and history of health.

“No, I think I can manage, thank you,” you smiled back.

“You can take a seat in the sofas, and when you’re done just fold it and put it in the mailbox, dr. Syverson will call you in, shortly,” she motioned to a black mailbox by the elevators that you had missed when walking past it.

You nodded and went for the sofas. The room was warm and comfortable with green plants everywhere. The sand-coloured leather sofas were softer than you expected as you sank down. You filled out the form and put it in the box.

Instead of sitting back down, you decided to walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows and take a look at the impressive view of the city. Your eyes widened at how far you could see, all the way to the ocean, and if you squinted your eyes, you might have been able to see your apartment building, even the bar you had often been frequenting lately.

Dr. Syverson walked out of his office. He stretched his arms above his head, feeling a bit sore from having sat down reading his patients’ charts all afternoon. Now he just needed to check on his last appointment, before he could go home and enjoy an ice-cold beer.

His receptionist was packing her stuff, sending him a kind smile. The perks of working with his sister were that she didn’t try to seduce him, or leave her underwear in his white coat pocket like some of his patients tended to do.

He smiled back and looked around the room. His gaze landing on you. His first thoughts were not ‘oh there’s my patient’, no, his mind went straight to ‘YOWZA!’.

“Last patient for today, Luc. I’ll be leaving now, see you tomorrow,” he heard his sister say to him. She smacked his arm to get his attention. He was pulled back to reality, saying goodbye to her before walking towards you, changing his mindset from dirty to professional.

You gasped when a flock of seagulls flew by, making you take a step back and hit a wall. Except the wall had arms that grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor.

“Whoah, careful there, miss,” a deep rough voice said. You looked up and saw a man with a trimmed beard, a soft smile on his lips, and a mischievous look in his cerulean eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you choked out. You quickly remove yourself from his arms, first now noticing that he was wearing the white coat signalling he was dr. Syverson. And if that didn’t kick your brain in gear, then the name tag on his chest should do it. Dr. Lucas P. Syverson.

“It’s all good. This way, please,” he made sure you followed him to his office. The wall colour changed to a more soothing beige colour and was adorned with colourful paintings. You didn’t notice what they depicted before you stepped closer to one. It was of naked human bodies in various forms and shapes, very fitting for a gynaecologist’s office.

He had various books about his profession, but a few stood out to you. One had a peach on the cover and was written by dr. Syverson himself. You were impressed but wondered about the peach until you saw the title that made you blush deeply.

“How to eat a peach for dummies.”

He motioned for you to sit in the armchair, while he plopped down on the opposite one. He grabbed a chart from his desk and a pen.

“I’ve had a look at your medical history, and the…” Dr. Syverson looked down on the chart, “three gynaecologists that you have been referred to have written that you are in a state of good health. Well, we’ll see about that, I’m not too keen on some of these doctors you’ve had appointments with. They’re as old as Methuselah.”

You let out a peal of laughter. The joke having put you at ease with the doctor, who was smiling as you calmed down from your fit of giggles.

You were a little bit shocked by this doctor. Dr. Syverson was nothing like how you had imagined him. He couldn’t be over 40, with the extended educational schooling he would have had to go through. You remembered having read somewhere that it took at least 12 years to become a gynaecologist.

“Oh my gosh, they were. Another thing they had in common was that they would take a “quick” peek, not caring that I was screaming in pain, and then tell me that I’m healthy as a horse.”

Dr. Syverson sat back; his brow pushed together. You could practically hear the gears turning behind his forehead. He ran a hand through his beard, which made you notice that he wasn’t wearing a ring. If he wasn’t your doctor, you might have asked him on a date. Had you only met him at a bar instead of his office, and not being his patient. Damn it.

“There is definitely an issue we need to figure out here. I want you to know, miss that I plan on solving this mystery. Please, tell me in your own words what you think is wrong?”

You opened your mouth to explain, but all the sentences you thought of were too embarrassing to say out loud.

“Miss, you can say anything here. Nothing leaves these four walls, I promise you,” dr. Syverson tried to make you feel more comfortable with him with his gorgeous smile. His presence alone was putting you at ease. How did he do it?

“It burns when I’m penetrated,” you confessed.

“Penetrated how? During intercourse or masturbation?”

“I haven’t had sex since this happened. I can barely stuff two fingers in there,” you blurted, turning tomato red, confessing something so private to a total stranger, but it felt great to finally say it out loud, like a heavy stone being lifted from your shoulders.

“How about I take a look? Let me see with my own eyes that you’re ‘healthy as a horse’,” he quoted the old men, making you giggle. “You can leave your trousers and underwear on the bench, and have a seat on the table. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

The dashing doctor left the room while you removed your clothing. Feeling a little self-conscious, as you walked over to the gynaecologist table with the stirrups and sat between them, trying to cover your private parts with your shirt.

Dr. Syverson came back soon with a variety of scented candles in his arms.

“The smell of something nice usually helps my patients to relax a little,” he explained. He held them up for you to choose.

“This one,” you smiled and handed him the one called Ocean Mist.

“Nice choice, that one is my favourite,” the doctor grinned. He set the lit candle on his desk. The scent of a sandy beach and salty ocean soon filled the room. The doctor pulled the ultrasound machine towards you. You leaned back on the table inhaling deeply, willing your abdominal muscles to relax. The sounds of a guitar reached your ears. You watched as he set a portable speaker on the small table next to you.

“I hope you don’t mind a little music,” he said, smiling, while he put on a pair of bright orange gloves.

“I love Metallica, so please keep it flowing.”

“Can you guess the song I’m playing? Put your legs up here for me,” he patted the stirrups.

You lifted your legs, intensely listening to the instrumental version of the song.

“Is it ‘The Unforgiven’?” you asked.

“Correct, you’re good. This is going to be a little bit cold,” he squirted a large amount of gel on the ultrasound wand. He slowly inserted the rod inside you, pushing ever so gently. “How long have you listened to Metallica?”

You winced at the invasion but tried to keep your muscles from tightening around the smooth object. You didn’t see the set jaw on the gorgeous looking doctor. Your sweet scent was tickling his nose and making his mouth salivate by the thought of tasting you.

“Since I was a teenager. I’ve been to at least one concert per tour they’ve done,” you groaned in pain.

“I’m sorry, your right ovary is a little difficult to find. You’re doing great. Your left ovary is the epitome of health. Are you on any kind of birth control?” he asked casually, trying his best to make you feel safe around him.

“N… no… I…” your voice broke, and tears started streaming down your cheeks. Doctor Lucas quickly removed the wand, cleaned it and sat down next to you.

“It’s okay. Let it all out,” he told you softly. Concern for your well being was painted on his chiselled face.

“It’s just that… I haven’t had sex for years, YEARS doc. No man wants a broken woman, especially not a woman that cannot be penetrated without her screaming in pain.”

You babbled so much you forgot that you were in a gynaecologist’s office and not at a psychologist.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to blurt all that out,” you started to blush a crimson red.

Lucas fought hard not to pull you into his arms. His protective instincts were on high alert; he wanted to make you feel safe, make you feel loved. He was cursing the bastards who had hurt you. To him, women were the stronger sex, had to endure more pain than men. Women are precious, made to birth life, made to give love and be loved.

“It’s quite alright. You’ve had a rough time,” he patted your arm, the safest place to touch you and went to get up. “I’m going to feel around to see if there’s something I’ve missed with the ultrasound. What other bands do you listen to?”

You watched as doctor Syverson slapped on another pair of gloves and squirted a smaller amount of gel on his finger, on his long thick finger. You were practically drooling by watching him prepare to examine you.

“Eh… I listen to a little bit of everything,” you said. You laid back down and draped an arm over your eyes. Watching the handsome doctor working was becoming too much for you. He was stirring feelings inside you that you hadn’t felt in a long time, and not in this form or quantity. You had taken a look at his well-proportioned ass when he walked out earlier, and his black trousers did very little to hide his hefty package.

“I’m sorry, but, again, this is going to be a little cold. What was the last song you listened to?” he warned.

It was an erotic scene, watching him standing between your legs, one hand on your belly, while the other was about to enter your most sacred place. You felt him enter. A soft moan escaped your lips.

Lucas’ ears perked. He hadn’t expected to hear that sound coming from your full lips. Had he heard correctly? The little vibration from you sent a jolt straight to the beast he was trying to keep dormant. This wasn’t the first time a woman had moaned while he examined them, but you were different. Another sweet sound reached his ears. You were so responsive to his touch, so open, so reactive. His mind was racing, but one word kept popping up, more.

You had forgotten how to speak, how to form sentences, how to communicate. You could only feel.

“Miss?”

“Hmm?”

“The last song? You listened to,” he didn’t mean to sound so tense, but he had to distract himself, his treacherous mind, he needed to keep the small-talk going, to break the silence. He wanted to kick himself in the balls for thinking about you, while he was fingers deep inside you. His compassionate instinct was winning over his lust.

Stop it, Lucas! You’re a professional. You cannot mess up! You CAN NOT fuck this up! She needs your help. Lord, give me strength.

“Oh...” you murmured, coming back from whatever universe he had sent you to with his finger technique, “Ehm, before the Metallica song in the elevator, I listened to ‘What’s Your Country Song’ by Thomas Rhett.”

“That’s a great song. I like country music.”

“I wouldn’t have guessed you as a country kinda g… GOD!!!” you gasped as he curled his finger, touching the spot.

You released a louder sinful sound, a sound that hadn’t left your lips in a very long time. Lucas watched as your chest was heaving, gasping for air. The room was suddenly suffocating him. He felt like he was burning up from the inside. His breath was hitched, and he couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Why did you have to sound like desire itself?

“Does it hurt when I do this?” he asked, his voice lowering an octave and reduced to a velvety whisper. He hooked his finger once more, listening intensely to the sounds escaping you.

You couldn’t take it anymore. Your eyes rolled back in your head. You lifted your hips, moving your pelvis closer, needing more friction, needing to feel him deeper inside you.

Fuck!

He was watching you, vehemently. A fire was burning deep in his groin, heck even his eyes were flaming. His shoulders moved fastly up and down as he was heaving in the air through his parted lips, he needed oxygen, he needed to control himself. He was scolding himself for feeling like a horny teenager.

“This is… wrong,” he said in a panic. He moved his hand away from you. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist in a fierce grip.

“Please…” you begged, “please don’t stop. I… I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Please, Lucas… I need you… I need you to finish this.”

He could hear the need in your voice. He could smell your arousal. You were clawing your nails into his skin. The look in your eyes was clear that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. The same eyes were shining with unshed tears, begging him for release, and the sound of his name from your lips was making him so close to breaking his resolve.

“I… can’t… you’re my patient,” he groaned, his forehead showing the concerned lines of wrinkles, which made him look even more desirable.

“Can’t you make an exception? Just this once? Please...”

Lucas ran a gloved hand through his short-cropped hair. He turned away from you, needing support for his shaky legs he leaned against the back of his office chair. He was thinking about it, really thinking about it.

“Please, doll. Don’t test me. I’m standing on the edge, and I’m this close to jumping in with both feet. I can lose my career, and I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow.”

You watched as his shoulders sank. You moved off the examination table, pulling the hem of your shirt down to try to cover your nakedness.

“I’m sorry, dr. Syverson. I… I didn’t mean to put you in such a precarious situation,” your voice was small. Your gaze firmly on the wooden floor beneath your feet, you felt so ashamed to have tried to seduce your gynaecologist, who was only trying to help you. Lucas turned around to the sound of your voice breaking, and a little saddened that you started calling him his title again. Your cheeks flushed, your arms wrapped around yourself. You gathered the courage to move towards your clothes.

“Damn it!” he cursed. He moved towards you with the speed of lightning before you could take a single step. His large muscular frame wrapped around you, your head was laying on his chest, listening to the racing of his heartbeat.

“Say ‘you’re fired’,” he ordered, his voice husky and commanding like some kind of army captain, but it was also desperate. Desperate for you not to leave him. Craving your touch. Desiring, longing, yearning, lusting for you. 

Your eyes widened in shock as you processed his words. He heard you gasp as you realised what he was saying.

“Dr. Syverson… you’re fired,” you whispered seductively, although a little shaky too. You watched as the sweet and calm doctor changed before your very eyes.

He clashed his lips with yours in a hungry kiss. He was starving; his only thought was to taste you that was his only goal. Your scent had been making him insane; famished was more correctly described.

While holding you in his arms, he made you move backwards until your bum found the end of the exam table.

His kisses were desperate, and so were you. Your heart felt as if it was about to beat out of your chest. Your breathing was shallow. It was going to happen; it was really going to happen.

He lifted you up and made you sit on the exam table. He parted your legs and went to stand between them. He cupped your face between his warm palms, leaning down to kiss you again. He kissed your jaw and all the way to the shell of your ear.

“Please, don’t regret this,” he whispered and went to touch his forehead against yours.

“I want it, even more than you do,” you answered breathlessly.

With your consent, there was no turning back now.

He devoured your mouth while his hands roamed all over your body. He unbuttoned your blouse while you shoved his white coat to the floor. You pulled at his button-up, buttons were flying everywhere. He shoved your shirt down your shoulders and off your arms before he threw it somewhere behind him. You ran your hands up and down his hairy chest, wanting to feel all of him, not the doctor, but the fine specimen of a man that he was.

He removed your bra with a flick of his fingers. Slowly revealing your breast to him. Your nipples two hard buds, waiting for his mouth to suck, lick, bite, whatever he wanted to do.

“God, you’re so beautiful,” he whispered. His voice was desperate, so filled with lust, but also something oh so sweet.

Lucas moved his lips down your collar bone. Feasting on your breast, nibbling at your skin, before he finally went to town with your nipples. With the first touch of his tongue on your left breast, while he pinched the right, you let out a loud guttural sound. Just him playing with your bosom was about to send you over the edge. The coil in your belly was so close to snapping.

“More… Please, Lucas, more,” you whimpered, pushing his head to the place where you needed his mouth the most, right between your thighs.

You heard him chuckle. He gently pushed you down, making sure you were comfortable before he hooked your legs over his shoulders for better access to your glistening desire.

“Fuck…” you mewled. The sight of the mountain man between your legs, the growing bulge in his dark trousers was so erotic you were about to combust. Your sex was on fire.

“Your body is divine, bug. It was made to be worshipped. I want to make the pain go away,” he said softly.

You didn’t get to say a word as his tongue ran along the seam of your wetness, making you shutter from the first contact. His tongue was wide and long, his mouth blowing hot air as he sucked your lower lips gently.

That tongue of his was everywhere, inside you, lavishing you, adoring every centimetre of your flushed skin. You lifted your head to watch him working you into a frenzy, right as he sucked his index finger into his mouth, coating the digit with his saliva.

The pleasure that he was giving you was overwhelming. The moment he pushed his finger inside your womanhood, was like nothing you had felt before. His finger was warm, and it was a whole different feeling than when he was gloved. His tongue darted out to play with the glistening pearl hiding between your lips, sucking in his finger. Your wetness allowed his movements to be smooth and easy, in and out, and he found that spot that made you howl in ecstasy.

“Luc… I’m… I’m so close… FUCK!”

The coil broke, snatched, ripped apart. You weren’t pushed over the edge, you were shoved, hard, and the pleasuring waves kept coming and coming. It felt as if your orgasm was never-ending. You never wanted to come down from that high. It was addictive.

You released your hold of Sy’s head from your thighs, not having noticed you had trapped him. You were panting hard, trying to catch your breath after the tsunami of an orgasm the doctor had given you.

Lucas’ palm covered your cheek, wiping the tears that had fallen from your eyes.

“Did I hurt you, doll?” his face scrunched in concern.

You shook your head, no.

“No… that was the most amazing thing I’ve ever experienced.”

The smile on Lucas’ face was breathtaking. He was beaming with pride. You watched as he leaned back, noticing he was still wearing his trousers. The apparent bulge in his abdominal area looked painful.

You moved to sit up, motioning for him to stand.

“I want to return the favour,” you told him, unzipping his trousers. You were gentle, as the tent grew more extensive, the more you released his manhood from its confinement. You helped him out of his black boxer briefs and came face to face with the finest cock you had ever laid eyes on. You were drooling, licking your lips, dying to taste him.

“You don’t have to, angel,” he groaned as your tongue darted out to taste the precum leaking from the tip, hearing him growl, a sound coming from deep inside him.

“Please let me, Sy,” you pleaded, taking his length in your hand. You looked up to see Lucas nodding slowly. He groaned in acceptance.

You ran your tongue over your palm to lubricate it. Lucas’ eyes widened to the size of teacups. His cock jolting in excitement, his heart skipping a beat at the erotic scene happening right before him.

One hand touched his hips, moving to the small of his back, to have a grip on his ass, pushing him closer to your face. He filled your hand beautifully with his hardness, yet he was still soft to the touch of your palm. You started moving your hand up, slowly, hearing his gasp was turning you on even more than you already were. You smeared the clear precum around the glans with your thumb. Delicately wrapping your mouth around him. Your lips were stretched to max capacity, a voice in the back of your mind was telling you that you had to be careful not to lock your jaws, but then again you had a doctor right in front of you if the situation should happen.

You languidly moved his member further into your warm mouth, coating him with your saliva. Your tongue gliding over the tip. Lucas released a low moan that sent vibrations through his body. He lifted his face towards the ceiling. Your hand left his ass, moving down his thighs, tickling the backside of his knee, before travelling up the inside of his thigh and gently cupping his balls.

“Fuuuuuuck…” he guttered. You sucked the part that could fit in your mouth in synchronicity with your hand’s movement. He felt the tightening deep within his testicles. The hitching in his breath notified you of his coming release. You led his hands to your scalp, letting his fingers fisting your hair, before giving him a sultry look with his cock in your mouth.

He was grunting hard as he set the pace, while you did your best to keep up with him. Moving his hips, chasing his release inside your mouth. You relaxed your throat, letting him take over. You wanted so much to please him. 

“Fuck, sunshine… I’m so close,” he growled.

“Come in my mouth,” you uttered. It was like something within him snapped the minute you voiced the words. He moved faster, harder, rougher. Until you felt the first spurts of his seed hitting your palate. You swallowed everything he spilt and then licked him clean.

Sy fumbled with his office chair as he sat down with a satisfied hum and pulled you to sit on his lap.

“That was amazing,” he smiled at you, kissing the tip of your nose, your cheek, the corner of your mouth and lastly a lingering kiss on your reddened lips.

“Glad you approve,” you grinned back, “Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“About those books,” you pointed towards the books you had peeked at earlier.

“Theses I had to write for med school.”

“Tell me about them while you rest for round two.”

[seriouslysnape]

Picture Perfect

__

Draco Malfoy x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Sexual implications (a lottttt of them)

A/N: I might do a part two to this...

Word Count: 1,635

“Like them? I love them.”

__

You watched with anticipation as Draco popped another one of the Bertie Botts Flavour Beans into his mouth. His sculpted jaw moved up and down as he chewed. His eyes suddenly shut tightly and his face contorted into disgust. You leaned forward a tad, curious to see what mystery flavor he had picked. He swallowed hard and coughed at the foul taste.

“Soap.” He sputtered, reaching for the glass of water on his bedside table.

You bursted into laughter, laughing even harder at the way he brought a hand to his chest as the taste dissipated from his tongue. He grinned at you from over the rim of his glass, taking another sip.

“Your turn.” He said. 

This was a game of sorts that you and Draco liked to play whenever the two of you made a trip to Hogsmeade. Honeydukes Sweets Shop was your absolute favorite place to go and make pleasurable purchases. There were endless rows of candies and other tooth rotting snacks that were your ultimate guilty pleasure. 

You were always sure to snag a new box of Bertie Botts Flavour Beans. You and Draco would sit in his private, prefect room and take turns selecting a bean and seeing which flavor you were bestowed with. You were snug in one of his Quidditch jumpers, your legs wrapped around his waist while the two of you sat on his bed. 

Draco was always less fortunate than you during this game.

You took a bean into your hand, taking a breath when you put it in your mouth. Your tense shoulders relaxed when you started chewing. A delicious, fruity taste flooded your tastebuds, a cheeky grin appearing on your face. Draco threw his head back in exasperation at the sight of you getting yet another good flavor.

“Again?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Cherry.” You smiled, swallowing the small candy.

Draco’s blonde eyebrows raised, a devious look crossing over his face. His hands rested on your thighs that were secured around him, leaning forward.

“Mmm. Do you mind sharing?” He smirked.

You hummed affirmatively, capturing his lips in a hot kiss. His tongue danced with yours, tasting your familiarity and the traces of cherry candy. His hands went to the side of your neck to bring you closer, while you gripped at the collar of his sweater. His kisses muffled your girly giggles, a chuckle vibrating out from his own chest. 

You tapped his shoulder to pause your make out session, a mumble of realization sounding out from your throat. He whined when you stopped kissing him, but based on the bright look on your face, you had something in mind. 

“I have something for you.” You announced in a playful way.

His gray eyes darkened a touch, his fingertips drumming on the skin of your leg. 

“Is that so?” He questioned, making guesses already in his head.

You were giddy with joy as you scrambled from his array of blankets and his comforter. You reached into your backpack, pulling out a solid black book with a red bow on it. It was a rather large book, about the size of his Care of Magical Creatures textbook. Draco felt a quick surge of panic. He was the worst about remembering holidays and birthdays, and he instantly thought that maybe he had forgotten something special.

“Don’t get mad if I have, but...did I miss something?” He asked.

You let out a snicker as you rejoined him on the bed. Ever since he had forgotten your birthday a few months ago, now he was always afraid he was going to miss something else. 

“You haven’t. This is just something I’ve been working on.” You bubbled up gleefully.

You set the book on his lap, watching as his eyes raked over the cover. He felt a warmth in his chest at being given a gift just because you cared. He pushed the bow off of the sides of the book, opening the cover to see a little note you had written for him, signed at the end with your name and everything. The thick pages indicated to him that it was a picture album. 

He turned to the first page, an unmistakable smile of jubilation appeared on his face. The first two pages each had four Polaroid like pictures secured evenly. You were smiling happily in each of the first several photos, wearing different outfits and in different locations. Draco’s heart was beating with exuberance in his chest as he looked through the first couple of pages. 

“Oh, darling. These are great,” He praised; “They’re positively stunning. They-” 

His sentence was cut short when he got about halfway through the pages, his voice getting caught in his throat when the pictures immediately took on a new theme. His smile faded into a shocked, slight jaw drop. The second half of the book was filled with sultry, boudoir style photos. His fingertips trailed over one in particular where you were wearing your school robes, but the only thing you were wearing underneath was one of Draco’s Slytherin uniform ties settled between your breasts. 

In other photos, you were wearing different sets of lingerie. There was one lacy, black colored set that almost made him faint right then and there. 

He was knocked speechless, unable to string together a single sentence. You were beginning to feel a little self conscious, and even a bit embarrassed that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. You had honestly expected him to completely attack you with feverish kisses or fuck you right then and there. The fact that he was completely silent was unsettling.

You fiddled with your hands in your lap, uncertainty in your tone as you spoke up to break the silence.

“I...do you like them?” You wondered, hoping to get a positive reaction.

Draco’s eyes never left the book. He turned to the next page, a rush of arousal flushing over him at one in particular where you were completely naked, stretched out on his bed and giving a look so seductive that it made Draco’s belly flutter. The sight of you naked on his bed...it was hot.

“Oh, baby. Darling, my love...” He breathed out, trying to complete at least one full thought; “Like them? I love them.” He almost growled.

You exhaled a breath of relief, feeling a sense of excitement as he continued to rake over them. He turned to a new set of pictures, a hot blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“You’re so stunning...so sexy.” He purred.

You laughed shyly, a bashful smile washing on your face. You rubbed his knee, your hand feeling like electricity on him. He couldn’t look away from the scandalous photos, each one becoming more dirty than the last. He was riled up and he was already looking forward to having this book at his disposal.

“Who took these?” He pondered, wondering which one of your lucky girl friends had the pleasure of seeing you actually model these outfits and strip down naked.

You just had to take advantage of this moment. You couldn’t help but mess with him just a little bit. You choked down the chuckle that would surely give you away.

“Potter.” You lied.

Draco’s head snapped up so fast and his eyes filled with an indescribable look of hot jealousy. He chest tightened, but relaxed when he realized you were kidding based off of your burst of laughter. He sighed harshly and rubbed his forehead as you laughed at his intense reaction. The thought of you asking Harry Potter to take these photos for you filled him with such a rage, but he even laughed it off when he knew you were joking.

“That’s not funny.” He said pointing a finger at you, and continuing to go through the photos.

Your giggles died off, and you answered him honestly.

“Pansy took them. That’s how I was able to sneak in here when you weren’t here.” You explained.

Draco nodded, his jaw still slightly ajar as he loomed over them. You patiently waited as he finished looking through them, his pupils dilating more and more by the minute. He closed the book once he was finished, his eyes finally flickering up to you. He had grown a very prevalent erection, and his eyes were filled with an intense amount of lust. You knew one thing for sure.

He was going to rock your world tonight.

Over the last year or so of dating you, he tried not to be so aggressive when it came to your sex life. He tried not to pounce on you every time he felt turned on. He knew that sex was supposed to be the ultimate romantic connection, and not always supposed to be rushed. After those pictures though, he wanted you BAD. You could tell he was antsy, waiting (and also praying) for you to give him the okay. 

You leaned in, your lips just barely brushing over his, before you brought your lips to his ear. You purposely let out a wanton moan in his ear, a tantalizing sound to your voice.

“Touch me, Draco. I know you want me.” 

In a millisecond, Draco was on you. He kissed you roughly and pushed you down onto his mattress. He kept your hands pinned above your head, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as he intentionally drew the most wonderful sounds out of you. 

“What are the chances of you wearing one of those hot little outfits under this jumper?” He said in a steamy voice.

You squirmed against his hands, but to no avail. You rolled your hips into his, trying to create some friction. You threw him a wink, your response sending him into full fuck mode.

“Why don’t you find out?”

[quokkacore]

can you dig it? (m) [kim doyoung & kim jungwoo]

summary: post concert highs can be a real bummer, and tonight, after a particularly intense performance, your boyfriends help you come down.

pairing: kim doyoung x kim jungwoo x fem!reader

genre: poly!au, 70s!au, band!au, smut, fluff

warnings: drug usage (weed specifically), mentions of other substances (lsd and cocaine), shotgunning, established poly relationship, soft dom jungwoo, mentioned switch jungwoo, hard dom doyoung, sub reader, high sex, sex on a water bed!!, unprotected sex, spit kink, they're all so sweaty help, mxm, degradation kink, praise kink, orgasm denial, overstimulation, minor possessiveness

song recs: don’t stop - fleetwood mac // unlock it (feat. kim petras & jay park) - charli xcx // love her madly - the doors // ziggy stardust - david bowie // rhiannon - fleetwood mac // eclipse - kim lip (loona) // flick of the wrist - queen

word count: 5.4k

a/n: this is for my best friend, who i love with all my heart,bc last month we were talking abt the dowoo photoshoot and she said smth about high sex with dowoo. happy birthday queen <3 thank u for listening to me complain abt writing all the time :’)

masterlist

Friday, July 22rd, 1977

The concert hall smelled like cocaine and sweat, you noted to yourself as the three of you joined hands to bow. Cheers from the crowd bounced off of the walls as you bid them your final goodbye, wishing them a good night and telling them to drive safe. Still, their chanting persisted. "Seoul Motel! Seoul Motel! Seoul Motel!" 

You wondered vaguely if this was what it was like to be a young god.

The curtain lowered, and the three of you were ushered offstage, to take some pictures and then head back to the hotel, to try and get some rest before you were off to Philadelphia, some five or so hours from where you were now: Boston. 

Truthfully, everything passed in a blur. It was almost always like this after these concerts. The thrill and euphoria of performing made it difficult to focus on things. That might have also been because Jungwoo had passed you a joint before the concert. You couldn't be completely sure.

Your tambourine and guitar seemingly disappeared, but you knew it would show up tomorrow for soundcheck when you got to the Philadelphia venue, right along with Jungwoo's bass guitar and Doyoung's drum kit.

What you did know was that here, in the car back to the hotel that your manager was driving, lecturing you and Jungwoo about the importance of being sober when talking to reporters, Doyoung had a hand on your thigh, and that was all you could focus on. 

Doyoung was high too. You knew this because ten minutes before you were needed on stage he pulled you forward by the hips and told you to take a few hits from the hand rolled joint and blow the smoke into his mouth. Of course, he wasn't as high as you and Jungwoo were, and he knew how to hide it better. But if you were to get close enough you'd notice the redness rimming his eyes, the dilation of his pupils.

The three of you were something, that was for sure. You had been, probably ever since Jungwoo joined the band, some eight years ago, in the fall of '69. You only really defined what you were once you got your first big hit thanks to some disc jockey in LA playing a song you had written, Calabasas, on the radio back in '73. 

The song had blown up, and suddenly the three of you were whisked into a whirlwind of celebrities, drugs, paparazzi and producers who thought the three of you were born yesterday. Yes, you were college kids that ran on booze and weed, but you weren’t complete morons. That was when the three of you sat down to properly discuss boundaries, what slid and what didn’t.

You and your boys decided that night that weren’t down with the idea of everyone knowing. Too many prying eyes. The public didn’t really know, because the press would have a damn field day. 

Other than that, it was a pretty open secret. In the industry, who was going around with who didn’t really matter—a lot of them were too off their face to even care. You realized that a few years back when David Bowie walked in on you watching Jungwoo and Doyoung get it on in a bathroom at some afterparty in New York City, and closed the door muttering something about how strong the edibles were.

 So, what your manager said fell on deaf ears. Too much weed, too much adrenaline, too much energy for someone who needed to head back onto the road in a few hours.

 When you finally got back to the hotel, Jungwoo grabbed your hand in the elevator on the way up to your rooms, which were right next to each other. "You said that your bed was really big… can we come up?"

You nodded, leaning against his arm. Doyoung hummed affectionately at the sight, noting how tired you both were. 

"You two are about five seconds from passing out," Doyoung mumbled, and you waved your hand in denial. 

"Are not," you protested like a child.

"Y/N, don't be a chump. I'm pretty sure if Woo weren't next to you, you'd have fallen over."

You didn't have the energy to counter, and as the elevator slid open, you were the first one to march out, ready to just take a cold shower and die for the next few hours. 

Realistically, you knew that wasn't what would happen. What would happen was that you would shower, get into bed and then toss and turn for another hour or so. Only then would the adrenaline truly wear off. The weed didn't help, making you feel sleepy. 

You unlocked the door, and Doyoung and Jungwoo gawked at the sight—and size—of your bed. It could probably fit all three of you easily. 

Since only one room would spark rumors, the manager usually booked two: one for Doyoung and Jungwoo and one for you. Your room always went unused. Usually, you would have to push Doyoung's and Jungwoo's beds together to make enough room, leaving an awkward and uncomfortable dip for the person in the middle. Whoever got the middle was handed the terrible double edged sword: cuddles galore, but a sore back in the morning. 

Immediately Jungwoo jumped onto the bed, gasping and immediately laughed gleefully as the bed sloshed underneath him. 

"A water bed!?" He exclaimed, splaying out his limbs. "Oh, far out. You really lucked out, dollface." 

He kicked off his shoes and curled up in the middle, eyes fluttering shut. You followed, sitting at the side as you peeled off your white leather go-go boots. Throwing yourself down next to him, you sighed at the sensation of waves beneath you, and nodded. "Oh, this is ace," You murmured, "Feels great."

Peeling one eye open as Jungwoo wrapped his arm around you, your gaze landed on Doyoung, who was still leaning against the wall. You beckoned him over with a hand. "C'mere, princey." 

He made sure that the air conditioner was working before sitting down on the other side of Jungwoo, for which you were grateful. The still drying sweat on the back of your neck and on your chest started to cool instantly. You and Jungwoo giggled as Doyoung’s weight sent waves rippling beneath you.

"So, are you guys gonna sleep or what?" Doyoung asked, kicking his shoes off as well and peeling off his denim jacket. His eyes were still wide open and he didn't look tired at all. "I'm probably staying up a little later, I have some ideas for some lyrics I want to get down—"

"I would love to sleep. But I can't," Jungwoo declared before glancing knowingly at the both of you, "and neither can either of you." 

You hummed in agreement. "Hmm, you're not wrong. Too much energy left."

You turned to bury your face into his chest. His forest green short-sleeved button up was only buttoned up halfway, easily revealing his collarbones. He smelled like pot, sweat, and designer cologne. His chest rumbled as he continued to speak. 

"What about you, bunny boy? You can't tell me you don't still feel it."

"The weed or the concert jitters?" Doyoung's voice was raspy, cautious. He had a feeling he knew where this conversation was going. Once you and Jungwoo ganged up on him, it wouldn't take long to wear him down.

"Both," You and Jungwoo said in unison. You laughed at the sound. Doyoung chuckled as well, and you cracked your eyes open, despite how cozy you felt with Jungwoo stroking the skin of your nape.

"Well, the jitters are still there. That's why I'm staying up. As for the weed… well, yeah. I still feel it."

Jungwoo sighed. "How's the weed hitting you, though?"

"Honestly?" Doyoung's eyes met yours, and you felt something simmer in your chest. He huffed, deciding to take a bite of the apple, and leaned towards the both of you. 

"The weed, plus watching you two perform… Safe to say I'm pretty fuckin' horny right now."

You bit your lip, giving him a sleepy grin. "Oh, Woo, we turned him on." The teasing tone wasn't missed despite the sleepiness in your tone. 

"And what about it?" Doyoung asked, leaning back on his hands. "You can't say that watching Jungwoo do the thing doesn't get you going."

"I have a thing?" 

"We all have a thing, Woo. Princey's over there is at the end of Mr. Jones' Motorcycle. You know, when he finishes the solo? He always throws his head back, because there's sweat and hair in his eyes. You can see his neck and shit..."

Jungwoo blinked. "Shit, that is his thing… What's mine?"

You raised an eyebrow at Doyoung. "His is the thing where he gets so into it that he throws his head back and plays, and still manages to get every bass note right, right?" 

Doyoung nodded with a satisfied hum. "Gets you going, right?"

You brought a hand up to Jungwoo's chest, slowly sliding it down his stomach. Your voice lowered to a raspy murmur, and Jungwoo's hand tightened around your waist. "Damn right it does." 

"And plus, you both have told me that watching me put together the drum kit is hot."

"'Cause it is!" Again you laughed as Jungwoo said the same thing you did. 

"Jungwoo." Doyoung's voice sounded thicker. "You can't tell me that Y/N isn't an absolute vixen on stage." 

"You're right," The younger man answered, voice gruff. His hand slid down, gripping your butt and giving it a light squeeze, before directing his words at you. "Oh! Y/N, your thing is when—you know how every time you play the transition from Calabasas to Saturn’s Rings you sway your hips and flip your hair back and forth? Sometimes you’ll look at me or at Doyoung while you do, and you looked at me tonight. You're a little tease up there, dollface."

Your breath hitched at their words. “Oh, yeah?” You goaded, cuddling further into Jungwoo’s chest. You let a coy smile grace your face as your eyes fluttered shut. “What do you want me to do about it?”

“Don’t be a brat,” Doyoung growled.

“No, Doie,” Jungwoo hummed. He suddenly sounded a lot more awake. “...What would you have her do about it?”

Your eyes fluttered open, swallowing despite the sudden dryness in your throat. Doyoung's pupils were still blown wide, but you were pretty sure it wasn't because of the weed. He licked his lips. "Princess, get on your knees." 

Jungwoo prompted you up, pulling you up to stand at the side of the bed. Doyoung circled around the bed, before standing next to Jungwoo. Your gaze fluttered between your two boyfriends, one looking stern, the other looking like he was having the time of his life. 

Quietly, you lowered yourself to kneel on the plush carpet, fingers gripping the silver fabric of your dress' skirt to hike it up, so that you wouldn't kneel on it. Your hands itched to reach for them but you knew you needed to ask for permission. "Can I touch you?" 

Doyoung smiled, reaching for his belt. "There's our good girl," He said. Your mouth was already watering embarrassingly as you helped him undo his belt, pulling him out of his boxers. He was already half hard, and as you lifted your hand to spit in it, someone grabbed you gently by the rest. Jungwoo leaned over, turning your hand to reveal your palm to him. His eyes seemed to burn into yours as he let his spit fall into the palm of your hand. You felt your legs close, thighs trying to rub together at the sight. 

"Go on," Jungwoo murmured, using a hand on your jaw to move your head. Your eyes fell on Doyoung's cock again, slowly getting harder and harder. Your hand wrapped around it, stroking slowly as you met his smoldering gaze. You stroked him until he was rock hard in your grip, and his breathing turned heavy. Again, you swallowed, and Doyoung noticed this time. 

“What is it, princess? You want it in your mouth?”

“Yes, please,” You whispered, eyes wide. He chuckled breathily, head tipping back as you ran your thumb over the slit. His eyes met Jungwoo’s, who was palming himself through his pants.  

“What do you think, baby?” He asked him.

“Don’t be mean, Doyoung,” Jungwoo said softly. “Look at her, she’s desperate. Isn’t that right, Y/N?”

You whined, nodding. The pair chuckled. Jungwoo grinned at the state you were already in. “Go ahead, dollface. Give it a kiss.”

Before Doyoung could say anything else, you took his dick into your mouth, and let out a soft moan at how heavy he felt, hot and pulsing. He let out a guttural groan of your name, a hand burying itself in your hair. His other hand gripped Jungwoo’s shirt, pulling him forward to meet in a tongue-filled kiss. 

Slowly, Doyoung’s hips started rocking back and forth, grinding into your mouth. Your hands stroked what you couldn’t fit, as well as his balls. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to relax so as to not gag on his length. But when he sped up, it became too much to avoid. 

A tap on your shoulder, and Doyoung let you off of his cock. You turned your head to look up at a very flushed Jungwoo, who had pulled his dick out of his pants as well. The words, “Me too?” tumbled out of his swollen lips. And with that gentle, breathy tone, who were you to disobey?

You wrapped your lips around Jungwoo, who hissed at the sudden heat of your mouth. From there, something primal inside of you took control, wanting nothing more than to please—you took turns sucking them off and stroking them, the muffled sounds of their moaning spurring you on.

It was always like this—during sex, Doyoung was the meaner one, manhandling you and throwing degrading words in your face that made your stomach curl in sick pleasure. He was the one who could put you in your place when you became too bratty to handle. Jungwoo was gentler, but he was all too content to watch Doyoung toss you around. He would always swoop in after Doyoung took you apart, and piece you back together. He’d tell you how good you were, how good you made the both of them feel, and while he definitely didn’t treat you like fragile porcelain, he definitely didn’t leave as many bruises as Doyoung did. 

And then, when they were both done, they’d shower you in kisses, and whisper in your ear how grateful they were to love you, and say some philosophical thing about eternal love and the cosmos that you’d always be too fucked out to comprehend, but that made your heart do a backflip regardless. 

“Shit,” Jungwoo groaned, pulling away from Doyoung’s lips. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum.” 

You pulled off of Doyoung to look up at Jungwoo. “In my—in my mouth, please, Woo.”

He nodded, licking his lips as his hands fisted themselves in your hair, gripping but not pulling as he allowed you to touch him the way you wanted. His hands gathered the loose strands into a makeshift ponytail, using it to guide your mouth up and down his hot cock. His hips bucked into your willing mouth, the sound of his hissing and his moaning getting louder and louder, until… 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Y/N… Y/N!" He groaned, as he came into your mouth. His head tipped back, which gave Doyoung access to his neck, pressing sloppy kisses to the skin. This sight was worth the bitter taste that coated your tongue: one of your lovers in ecstasy while the other anchored him to the ground. 

He left his dick in your mouth for a moment, before pulling out with a shaky breath. Doyoung pulled away, letting him breathe. As Jungwoo caught his breath, Doyoung pulled you up, and he sat on the bed, bringing you down with him to straddle his lap. 

You turned your head to face Jungwoo, who smiled at you, coming closer to the both of you. One of his hands patted the top of your head. "That was wicked," He said. 

Doyoung smiled softly, and gripped your chin to get you to face him. His sweet grin didn't disappear as his grip forced your mouth open. He groaned at the sight of your tongue coated in Jungwoo's semen. 

"Gorgeous," He mumbled, eyes trained on your lips as it began to spill out. 

"Kiss her," Jungwoo told him, "You know you want to."

So he did, his tongue almost immediately slipping past your lips to get a taste of Jungwoo for himself, swallowing it down greedily. Your hands came up to unbutton his black dress shirt, and his hands pushed up the skirt of your dress to get you to rock your hips against his. You gasped against his mouth at the feeling of only your soaked panties separating him and you, before pushing the shirt off of him. 

He moved to lie you down on the bed. As he pulled away from you, you caught his tongue slipping out to lick at a dribble of Jungwoo's cum on his lips. To make matters even worse, the bed was rolling beneath you, making your head spin. 

Jungwoo pulled his shirt off before he sat down behind you. Meanwhile, Doyoung moved down your body, parting your legs. He prompted you to sit up, resting your back against his chest. He pressed a kiss to your earlobe as Doyoung peeled your underwear off of you, biting his lip at the sight of your drooling pussy. 

"You're absolutely drenched, princess. And all from sucking our cocks, huh?"

You nodded, eyes fluttering shut as Jungwoo's lips began kissing along your jaw. When you didn't say anything, Jungwoo pinched your sides gently. "Use your words, doll," He whispered. From behind you, his eyes met Doyoung's. "You're gonna keep being our good little girl, right?"

"Y-yes, Jungwoo." Your hand lifted itself to press against his cheek, a silent plea for more kisses. He smiled against your skin. 

"Atta girl," He praised, "On your best behavior for us tonight, huh?" 

"The little slut's just being good because she wants to get fucked, Woo. Don't get it twisted." 

"Please, Doie," You pleaded at the mention of being fucked, "Need it."

The older man chuckled lowly, pressing the pad of his thumb to your clit. 

"Told you."

His tongue pressed itself against your hole, and you immediately cried out. You would have immediately started grinding against Doyoung's face if it weren't for Jungwoo's hands on your hips, holding you down and keeping it still. 

"I don't think you wanna do that," He murmured. His hands travelled underneath your skirt, gripping the silvery blue gossamer as he tried to lift it up. You did your best to keep your squirming at a minimum as you tried to help him get you out of it. Finally, the bell sleeves were pulled off, and you were left naked as the day you were born.

Jungwoo’s hands moved to your breasts, playing with them as he watched you whimper at the sensation of Doyoung’s mouth working at your folds. When he slipped his tongue inside, you keened, head falling against Jungwoo’s shoulder. 

“You’re so pretty like this,” He whispered. 

Your chest heaved, squirming up and down as he began to tug and pinch your nipples, calloused fingertips making you cry out.

Doyoung’s free hand gripped your thigh, and his fingers on the other hand slipped inside when he pulled his tongue out. Immediately, he plunged in two fingers, curling his fingers as he attempted to search for that one special spot.

"Ngh, Doie, faster, pleasepleaseplease." Your legs were trembling slightly now. 

"So fucking slutty," Doyoung mumbled, chuckling wickedly, "And all I had to do was stick my fingers inside." 

He complied with no protest, and the sensation of Doyoung stroking your walls and Jungwoo continuously pawing at your breasts caused a string of moans to come pouring out of your mouth. Jungwoo had been sucking a bruise into your clavicle, but leaned up to press his lips against yours. 

"Don't want anyone hearing what's meant for Doie and I," He said, lips brushing yours. 

The idea made you even needier, the double entendre making your head spin. Jungwoo didn't want anyone to hear you because if they did, rumors would spread. And on top of that? He didn't want anyone to hear. You were theirs. They were yours. This was a sacred ritual between bodies meant to be witnessed by only the three of you.

Your head felt like you were floating, even though your limbs felt like they were sinking into the watery mattress. A coil began to tighten in your stomach, and your soft whines, muffled by Jungwoo's plush lips, increased in pitch. 

They both knew what this meant, because a second later, Doyoung removed his fingers from your core, and Jungwoo pulled away, his hands moving from your breasts to rest on Doyoung's atop your hips. You were left reeling and breathing heavily, that familiar sensation floating away.

When you looked down at Doyoung, you swallowed at the sight of his lips, chin and fingers, all glistening with your wetness.

He lifted himself up off the mattress, and proceeded to sandwich your chest in between his own chest and Jungwoo’s back. He gripped his dick, rubbing it against your folds, which were now even more soaked than before.

"Tell me how much you want it, princess." He pressed his forehead against yours, hissing when the tip caught your clit. You let out a desperate whine, clinging to his broad shoulders. 

"Do—Doyoung, please fuck me," You begged, reeling at the sensation. He was so close, all he had to do was slide in. But he refused.

"Not good enough," He insisted.

"Doyoung, don't be mean," Jungwoo said, but he seemed to be more amused by your desperation than anything.

"No, I wanna hear how much she needs us."

You closed your eyes and took a few deep breaths, trying to gather your words. Jungwoo's hands stroked your sides, trying to calm you down. "You doing alright, doll? You wanna take a breather?"

"We can always stop." Doyoung's voice had turned stable, secure, safe. He started pulling away, until you grabbed him by the forearm and shook your head. You opened your eyes, seeing concern in his eyes

“No,” You mumbled, “Jus’ want some water. Think there’s some in the minibar. ‘M really hot.”

Doyoung nodded, getting up and striding over to the small refrigerator on the other side of the room. He pulled out a water bottle, and popped open the cap before passing it to you. Jungwoo had taken to fanning your face lightly with his hand. You took several long swigs of water, before setting it on the nightstand.

“I’m fine,” You promised. “Can we please keep going? I can take it.”

Doyoung pressed a kiss to your temple. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“Yeah,” You said with a nod. 

“Doyoung,” Jungwoo murmured, “Be careful.”

“I know, baby." He lowered his eyes to study your face. "I won’t go that hard on you, Y/N.”

You nodded, even though deep down you wanted to protest. You knew that this was probably the best route to take. You could already feel the high—from the weed and the concert—wearing off. You knew that if Doyoung were too rough you’d probably crash on the way down instead of float.

So, Jungwoo brushed some stray hair out of your sweaty face, and Doyoung grabbed your legs gently, wrapping them around his hips. Slowly, Doyoung eased in, and you sighed in satisfaction of finally being filled. He bit into your shoulder, taking deep heaving breaths as he let you get used to the sensation. Jungwoo took turns pressing kisses to the top of your head and the top of Doyoung’s head. 

“I love you both so much,” He whispered, “I’m so grateful the universe brought us together.” 

Doyoung looked up at him, pressing a kiss to his lips. “My baby,” He murmured against Jungwoo’s lips. He then turned to you and did the same, “My princess.”

You smiled at their words, but the need in your core was becoming unbearable. "Doie, Woo, I love you both so much," You murmured, "But Doyoung, if you don't move I'll pin you down and do it myself."

"And you were doing so well," Doyoung groaned with a laugh, before beginning to thrust his hips. It was a slow, torturous glide, and the way it caused the bed to rock left you dizzy in the best possible way. Doyoung was panting into your ear like some sort of beast, and you were whining softly with every cant of his hips.

"You must feel so good right now, huh, doll?" 

"Jung—woo," You moaned, clawing at his bicep.

"I know, dolly, I know." He sounded sympathetic enough, but the way he was grinding his dick against your ass suggested otherwise. "Bunny boy is just so good with those hips of his, hm?"

"H-he is!" You cried, "Feel so full, ah, Doyoung!" 

Doyoung's eyes met yours, and his hips picked up their pace, until your eyes rolled up into your head. Your head thrashed side to side, leaning against Jungwoo's shoulder. His mouth lowered once again to kiss at your neck, and your hand wrapped itself against his nape, while the other gripped Doyoung's shoulders.

Jungwoo's hands slithered down to where you and Doyoung were connected, and started rubbing at your clit. You shrieked, chest arching. Doyoung hissed. "Shit, do that again," He bit out, "Fuck, princess you just got so tight."

"D-Doie, harder!" 

Doyoung looked up at Jungwoo, the two having an unspoken conversation. A second later, Jungwoo gave a cautious nod. Doyoung smiled, before he adjusted his legs. Then…

Then. He began pounding into you at a breakneck pace. Your legs tightened around him, wanting him even deeper than before. 

"You love this, don't you? Our pretty little slut." His voice was tighter now, panting with exertion. You nodded. 

"Yes, yes! I'm your slut!" 

Doyoung grinned, before locking lips with you. His tongue dipped into your mouth, before letting you do the same to him. You could tell he was starting to feel something—he always kissed you or Jungwoo as a way of telling you he wouldn't last much longer. 

Truthfully, you could feel it coming too—your body felt like it was on fire, and your hips couldn't stop squirming. Whether it was towards Jungwoo's calloused fingers on your clit, Doyoung's cock, or away from both, you couldn't tell. Your moans were getting shriller too.

You clenched down on his length again, and he grit his teeth, grunting as his pace turned sloppy.

"C-c'mon, princey," You pleaded, "Give it to me, give it…"

"Shit, yes…" His head lolled onto your shoulder. "Gonna stuff you so full, princess, you'll be dripping—"

"Please! Oh, please—"

The two of you fell apart almost at the same time, your orgasm triggering Doyoung's a second later. Your mouth fell open, legs trembling and heart pounding as waves crashed over and under you.

When you came down, Doyoung rolled off of you, turning onto his side to watch you and Jungwoo. Jungwoo, who ceased the movements of his hands and slowly laid you down. Your head landed against the pillows, and you let your eyes shut as you caught your breath. 

"Can I take care of you one last time, doll?" You heard Jungwoo say. Your eyes opened blearily, and you reached a hand out towards him, legs parting of their own accord.

Both of your lovers groaned at the sight of your pussy, Doyoung's cum brimming from your folds. 

"Absolute perfection," Jungwoo murmured, crawling between your legs. He gripped his dick with one hand, the other swiping through your folds, and you immediately whined at the sensitivity there, teetering the fine line between pleasure and pain.

"Please," You whimpered, "Woo, I want it."

"You're insatiable." He sounded so affectionate, so in love. You watched as his eyes studied his index and middle fingers, covered in a mix of Doyoung's cum and yours, before dipping them into his mouth to lick them clean. You sighed, a dopey smile gracing your features. He lowered himself down to brush noses with you, dark eyes blown wide, wide awake despite the dark circles underneath.

"Guess I'll just have to do something about that."

He slid in as if he was coming home, immediately setting a solid pace that had you seeing stars, arms wrapping around his shoulders to lock hands at his nape. The sensitivity left you pliant in his arms, and Jungwoo didn't hesitate in cradling you in his arms.

"So good for us, Y/N. Always Doie and I's sweet girl." 

You nodded, tears brimming at your eyes at the heaviness in your chest, the pulsing in your core. His hair was falling into his eyes, and you lifted your hands to his face, doing your best to brush it away. Your hands cupped his cheeks, heavy eyes burning into his. Your hips were rutting against his desperately now, wanting nothing more than to feel that high with him.

Jungwoo pressed a brief kiss to your neck, feeling something simmer in his gut embarrassingly fast. 

Doyoung placed his head next to yours, gently lifting Jungwoo's head to kiss him, hand brushing the other man's ass. When he pulled away, he kissed you as well, and Jungwoo's mouth pressed itself to one of your nipples. You keened against Doyoung's mouth, hips losing all semblance of grace.

Here, you were needy, animalistic, running on instincts, and your boys were drinking it up like water from a desert oasis. 

Doyoung pulled away, a thin trail of spit connecting his lips to yours. His hands cradled your head.

"Can you feel it yet, princess?"

Your eyebrows furrowed, silent moans falling from your lips. "Ah, yeah, Doie… s-so close…"

"Me too," Jungwoo groaned between your breasts, "So wet, Y/N…"

"That's from all the cum she's filled with, right, princess?"

You nodded. "Mm—ngh! Stuffed me so good, Doie." 

"Yeah? You gonna let Jungwoo fill you up even more? Gonna keep it all inside, right?"

Your stomach did a backflip, and you felt your toes curl. "Yes, yes, yes, yes, I want it—"

"I'll give it to you, doll," Jungwoo growled, "It's all—fuck—all yours. S-same way this is all for us, right?"

Those words were what caused you to finally fall over the edge. Your high was so intense that you could have sworn that your ears popped—clawing at Jungwoo’s shoulders, your eyes squeezed shut. Only one side ended up scratched, since you always kept your right hand nails short to properly play guitar. You sobbed against Doyoung’s lips, and he eagerly swallowed up your cries, shushing you gently as you came back down.

You didn't feel Jungwoo come inside, but you felt it immediately afterwards—the satisfying stickiness, the warmth in your stomach. 

You looked at Jungwoo, pressing a soft kiss to his sweaty forehead before prompting him to move off. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you towards him as his little spoon, peppering kisses to your cheek and whispering how good you were. The two of you looked at Doyoung. You reached out, making grabby hands at him. His eyes were drooping, and he was blinking blearily as if he were trying to fight off sleep.

Still, he got up and pulled his pack of cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, as well as his lighter. As he sat back down on the bed, the waves sent you and Jungwoo further and further into the recesses of slumber. As consciousness left you, you caught Doyoung looking down at the two of you as if you were the most precious beings he'd ever encountered. His tone was low and grumbly, but there was a glint of smug satisfaction in his eye.

"I hope you two are happy. I can't remember those goddamn lyrics anymore." 

[bananaofswifts]

Taylor Swift Turns on a Facsimile Machine for the Ingenious Recreations of ‘Fearless (Taylor’s Version)’: Album Review

Swift recreates her entire 2008 album literally down to the last note, then gives herself room for stylistic latitude on six never-before-recorded "vault" tracks.

By Chris Willman

Swift recreates her entire 2008 album literally down to the last note, then gives herself room for stylistic latitude on six never-before-recorded "vault" tracks.

There is no “best actress” award at the Grammys, perhaps for obvious reasons, but maybe there should be this coming year. And the Grammy would go to… Taylor Swift, for so persuasively playing her 18-year-old self in “Fearless (Taylor’s Version),” her beyond-meticulous recreation of the 2008 recording that did win her her first album of the year trophy back in the day. It’s impossible to overstate just how thoroughly the new version is intended as an exact replica of the old — all the way down to her startling ability to recapture an untrained teen singing voice she’s long matured and moved on from. It’s a stunt, to be sure, but a stunt for the ages — mastering the guile it takes to go back to sounding this guileless.

There are two different, very solid reasons to pick up or stream “Taylor’s Version,” regardless of whether you share her ire for the Big Machine label, whose loose ways with her nine-figure catalog precipitated this, the first in a six-album series of remakes where she’ll be turning on the facsimile machine. One is to marvel at her gift for self-mimicry on the album’s original tracks, where she sounds as possessed by her younger self as Regan ever was by Pazuzu. The other reason is, of course, to check out the six “vault” numbers that Swift wrote during that time frame but has never released before in any form, which dispenses with stylistic fealty to the late 2000s and frames her “Fearless”-era discards in production and arrangements closer to “Folklore.” Those half-dozen (kind of) new tracks really do sound like modern Taylor Swift covering her old stuff.

But those original lucky 13? It’s the same damn record… which is kind of hilarious and marvelous and the kind of meta-ness that will inspire a thousand more think-pieces than it already has, along with possibly efforts at forensic analysis to figure out how she did it.

It would not be surprising if, as we speak, Big Machine was putting a combined team of scientists and lawyers on the case of the new album’s waveform readouts, to make sure it’s not just the original album, remixed. Honestly, it’s that close. The timings of the songs are all within a few seconds of the original tracks, if not coming in at exactly the same length. The duplication effort doesn’t allow any detours. If “Forever and Always” had a cold open then, it’s going to have a cold open now. If the 2008 “That’s the Way I Love You” had slamming rock guitars with an almost subliminal banjo being plucked beneath the racket, so will the 2021 “That’s the Way I Loved You.” A drum roll to end the old “Change”? A drum roll to end its body-snatcher doppelganger. And if she chuckled before the final chorus of “Hey Stephen” 13 years ago, so will that moment be cause for a delighted giggle now.

Of course, much analysis will be put into whether the new laugh is a more knowing-sounding laugh. And that will be part of the fun for a certain segment of audiophile Swifties who will go looking for the slightest change as evidence of something meaningful. When “Love Story (Taylor’s Version)” first came out weeks back to preview the album, there were reviews written that swore she’d subtly changed up her phrasing to put a contemporary spin on the song. And maybe they were right, but, having done a fair amount of A/B testing of the two versions of the album, I found myself feeling like I do when vinyl buffs insist there are significant sonic differences between the first stamper version of an LP and one that was pressed a year later. If you can spot those very, very, very modest tweaks, go for it.

But my suspicion is that if Swift has decided to turn a phrase a little differently here or there on this album, or done anything too differently aside from brighten the sound, she’s doing it more as an Easter egg, for the people who are on that kind of hunt, than anything really designed as reinterpretation. Because the last thing Swift wants most of her fans doing is A/B-ing the two versions, the way I did. The whole point is to have folks retire the OG “Fearless” from their Spotify playlists, right? The Swift faithful were already threatening to rain down damnation on anyone caught sneaking an audio peek at the old version after midnight. What she intended was to come up with a rendering so faithful that you would never have a need to spin the vintage album again. In that, she has succeeded beyond what could have been imagined even in the dreams of the few self-forgers who’ve tried this before, like a Jeff Lynne.

Is there any reason to find value in the new versions if you couldn’t care less about the issues of masters and contracts and respect in business deals that made all this strangely possible? Yes, with the first one being that the new album just sounds like a terrific remastering of the old — the same notes, and you’d swear the same performances, but sounding brighter and punchier just on a surface level. But on a more philosophical one, it’s not just a case of Swift playing with her back catalog like Andy Warhol played with his soup can. It’s really a triumph of self-knowledge and self-awareness, in the way that Swift is so hyper-conscious of the ways she’s matured that she has the ability to un-mature before our very ears. With her vocals, it’s virtuosic, in a way, how she’s made herself return to her unvirtuosic upstart self.

On Swift’s earliest albums and in those seminal live shows — at the time when she was famously being told she “can’t sing,” to quote a song from the follow-up album — there was a slight shrillness around the edges of her voice that, if you lacked faith, you might’ve imaged would be there forever. It wasn’t. That was partly youth, and partly just the sheer earnestness with which she wanted to convey the honesty of the songs. She’s advanced so much since then — into one of pop’s most gifted modern singers, really — that the woman of “Folklore” and “Evermore” seems like a completely different human being than the one who made the self-titled debut and “Fearless,” never mind just a woman versus girl. It wouldn’t have seemed possible that she could go back to her old way of singing at the accomplished age of 31, but she found and recreated that nervous, sincere, pleading voice of yesteryear. And maybe it was just a technical feat, of temporarily unlearning what she’s learned since then, but you can sense that maybe she had to go there internally, too, to the place where she was counseling other girls to guard their sexual virtue in “Fifteen,” or wondering whether to believe the fairy tale of “Love Story” or the wakeup call of “White Horse,” or proving with “Forever & Always” that writing a song telling off Joe Jonas for his 27-second breakup call was better than revenge.

If at first you’re not inclined to notice that Swift has re-adopted a completely different singing voice for the “Fearless” remakes, the realization may kick in when those “vault” tracks start appearing in the later stretch of this hour-and-50-minute album. The writing on the six songs that have been pulled up from the 2008 cutting room floor seems primitive, even a little bit by the standards of the “Fearless” album; there are great lines and couplets throughout the rescued tracks, but you can see why she left them as works-in-progress. But she doesn’t use her youthful voice on these resurrections, nor does she employ the actual style of “Fearless” very strictly. Of course, she feels more freedom on these, because there are no predecessors in the Big Machine catalog she’s asking you to leave behind. Her current collaborators of choice, Jack Antonoff and Aaron Dessner, divided the co-producing work on these fresher songs, as they did for the two all-new albums she released in the last year. (The “Fearless” recreations are co-produced by Swift with Christopher Rowe, someone who worked on remixes for Swift back in that era.) They co-produce the vault songs in a style that sounds somewhere between “Fearless” and Folklore”… a more spectral brand of country-pop, with flutes and synths and ringing 12-string guitars and a modicum of drum programming replacing some (but not all) of the acoustic stringed instruments you’d expect to be carried over from “Fearless” proper.

Of the previously unheard tracks, Swift was right — she’s always been her own best self-editor — in putting out “You All Over Me” first, in advance of the album. With its imagery of half-muddy stones being upturned on the road, this song has advanced lyrical conceits more of a piece with the level of writing she’s doing now than some of the slightly less precocious songs that follow. Still, there’s something to be said for the sheer zippiness with which Swift conveys teen heartbreak in “Mr. Perfectly Fine,” which has a lyric that shows Swift had long since absorbed the lessons Nashville had to offer about how to come up with a high-concept song — the concept, in this case, being just to stick the word “mister” in front of a lot of phrases relating to her shallow ex, as if they were honorary titles to be conferred for being a shit, while she employs the “miss” for herself more sparingly.

Some of the remaining outtake songs go back more toward the sedate side of “Fearless”-style material; she didn’t leave any real bangers in the can. “We Were Happy,” the first of two successive tracks to bring in Keith Urban (but only for backgrounds on this one), employs fake strings and real cello as Swift waxes nostalgic for a time when “you threw your arms around my neck, back when I deserved it.” It’s funny, in a good way, to hear Swift at 31 recreating a song she wrote at 17 or 18 that pined for long-past better times. The next song, “That’s When,” brings Urban in for a proper duet where he gets a whole second verse and featured status on half a chorus, and it’s lovely to hear them together. But, as a make-up song, it doesn’t feel as real or lived-in as the more personal things she was writing at the time — and the fact that its chords are pretty close to a slightly more balladic version of the superior “You Belong With Me” was probably a pretty good reason for dropping it at the time.

the 18-year-old Taylor Swift is a great place to visit, but “Folklore” and “Evermore” are the place you’ll want to return to and live, unless you have an especially strong sentimental attachment to “Fearless”… which, sure, half of young America does. It’s not irreconcilable to say that the two albums she issued in the last year represent a daring pinnacle of her career, but that “Fearless” deserved to win album of the year in 2008. Has there been a greater pop single in the 20th century than “You Belong With Me”? Probably not. Did the album also have lesser moments you probably haven’t thought about in a while, like the just-okay “Breathe”? Yes. (I looked up to see whether Swift had ever played that little remarked upon number in concert, and according to setlists.fm, she did, exactly once… in 2018. Because she’s Taylor Swift, and of course she did.) It’s not certain that her duet with Colbie Caillat really needed to be resurrected, except it’s fun, because hey, she even roped former duet partners back into her time warp. But there are so many number that have stood the test of time, like “The Way I Love You,” an early song that really got at the complicated feelings about passion and fidelity that she would come to explore more as she grew into her 20s… and just kind of a headbanger, too, on an album that does love its fiddles and mandolins.

It doesn’t take much to wonder why Swift put up “Fearless” first in this six-album exercise; it’s one of her two biggest albums, along with “1989,” and it’s 13 years old, which does mean something superstitious in the Taylor-verse. In a way, it’ll be more interesting to see what happens when she gets to more complicated productions, like “1989” or “Reputation.” But maybe “Fearless” did present the opportunity for the grandest experiment out of the gate: to recreate something that pure and heartfelt, with all the meticulousness a studio master like Swift can put to that process now, without having it seem like she’s faking sincerity. Let the think-pieces proceed — because this is about six hundred different shades of meta. But, all craftiness and calculation aside, there’s a sweetness to the regression that’s not inconsequential. It harks back to a time when she only wondered if she could be fearless, before she learned it the harder way for sure. What they say about actors “disappearing into the role”? That really applies to Taylor Swift, playing herself.