#after we finished playing for the night I was talking to her vaguely about how excited I am for v3

[g0nta-g0kuhara]

Replaying the dr games is giving me a new appreciation of them overall, but I really did not realize how much I loved certain characters until now. I’m ecstatic any time nagito’s on screen, I guess he’s for sure one of my favourites fjdhf

[gothcsz]

Purgatory | Javier Peña x Fem!Reader x Fem!OC | ~7.6k wc | Explicit. Minors DNI.

Summary: A threesome between you, your bestie and Javier Peña.

Tags: smut, no plot all porn, bi!reader, f/f/m threesome, light dom/sub vibes, dirty talk (javi and his filthy mouth), oral (f&m), creampie, unprotected p in v sex (you know the spiel. be safe), a small age gap (very vague but javi is older than them), the ladies 69, cock worship, a hint of anal play, cum eating, riding, costumes are kinda involved, JAVI IN THE DEA JACKET OHHHH MYYY—, little to no physical descriptions of reader or oc, javi speaking spanish because i fucking love it, olivia murphy mention (javi would not willingly be at a halloween party lbr), no use of y/n, beta'd to the point where i think there's still mistakes, as usual other shit i'm probably forgetting (lmk what i missed).

A/N: halloween + women + javi p = a very happy kat 🖤 this is one of those works that i really just wrote for me, but am dedicating to @almostempty because she gave us the really hot and sexy ffm birthday threesome of our dreams and i think about honey quite literally all the time 🥵 this is also for all my bi readers out there 💋 i hope you guys like it mwahhh gracias nenitas (gn) 🖤

The air is thick with fog and the pulsing rhythm of bass as you and your best friend strut through the front door hand in hand, slipping into the sea of costumed bodies at the party.

You’re the devil tonight, red latex hugging your every curve, leaving little to the imagination. Your horns glint in the low, ambient light, and the faint glow of your devilish tail sways just above the edge of your barely-there skirt.

Next to you, your best friend, the angel, contrasts perfectly. Her white wings shimmer, the fluffy halo hovering above her head, while her outfit is just as scandalous as yours— tight, sheer, and angelic in all the wrong ways.

You’ve always been a killer combo, and tonight, you’ve turned it up to eleven.

The two of you catch eyes as the fog machine puffs up clouds around your legs, laughing due to already being tipsy from the pregame at your apartment.

You’ve been playing this game since the night you hooked up with her. It had awakened something inside the both of you, some insatiable thrill, and tonight, you’re both ready to explore it further.

After a few more drinks and some obligatory dancing, your eyes start to scan the crowd, teasing and flirting with guys in passing, each one trying to make their move but none holding your interest.

You feel her breath on your neck as she leans in close, whispering about the bartender from your favorite local spot. He’s always had that flirtatious vibe, and you’ve both fantasized about him more than once.

He seems like a viable candidate, until then he walks in. The man with the neatly trimmed mustache, older and far too sharp for this crowd.

His dark jacket, marked with DEA in bold letters, swings open to reveal a soft pink shirt, unbuttoned just enough to showcase his strong neck and collarbones.

He’s different, you think. Out of place but in all the right ways.

You nudge your friend, biting your lip and pointing discreetly. “Him,” you whisper, giggling softly as you watch her eyes flick toward him. Her gaze sharpens, lips curling into a smirk.

The lighting in the room casts deep shadows across his face, defining his cheekbones, his jawline—making him look like a fucking dream.

“He’s older,” she murmurs, her voice low with excitement, “but he’s exactly what we need.” 

You can’t help but nod, your stomach fluttering. You know it’s the chase that excites both of you.

“How should we do this?” You ask, finishing the rest of your drink in one smooth gulp.

She doesn’t answer right away, her eyes fixed on the handsome stranger across the room. His broad shoulders stretch against the fabric of his jacket, the way he stands having him look like he’s here on business instead of pleasure, and that only makes him more enticing.

Her lips purse slightly in thought, then her tongue peeks out, wetting her bottom lip. “One at a time,” she finally says, “Don’t want to overwhelm him.”

You arch a brow, leaning in a little closer. “He doesn’t look like the type to get overwhelmed so easily,” you counter, eyes trailing over him again. 

“But have you seen us tonight?” 

She’s leaning into you as she asks, her fruity perfume and the feel of her soft skin brushing against yours is so mesmerizing that for a moment, you forget all about the man.

“We do look pretty fucking hot,” you agree, eyes flicking over her curves in that skimpy angel costume. She giggles, a sweet, feminine sound, and scrunches her nose in that cute way she does when she’s feeling playful.

“Exactly,” she doubles down, her gaze still locked on the stranger. “I’ll go warm him up. Then you can come over.”

“How will I know when?”

Her mouth pulls into a slow, knowing smile, and she gives you a wink that feels like a promise. “Trust me,” she purrs, pulling a tube of lip gloss from the tight neckline of her top. The motion draws your eyes to her chest, where the soft swell of her breasts pushes against the fabric, nearly spilling out.

She rolls the gloss over her lips, making sure every inch is shiny and perfect, and then presses them together with a soft, wet sound that makes your mouth go dry. “You’ll know.”

The simple act makes you want to pull her closer, taste the sweetness on her lips yourself. But that’s for later.

“Alright, go get him, angel,” you murmur as you give her a playful smack on the ass while she walks away.

You watch her hips sway, the curve of her body undeniable in that outfit as she crosses the room with purpose. The closer she gets to him, the more seductive her movements become.

You watch her place her hands behind her back when she reaches him, her posture coy and her smile devilish. You can’t hear what she says, but you don’t need to. His attention is locked on her, his dark eyes raking over her figure, intrigued, just as you hoped. 

The party around you blurs into the background, the music muffled, the chatter of voices fading into static. Your focus narrows, locked on the scene unfolding across the room where she works her magic on the handsome stranger.

She’s doing a damn good job too. You watch as she leans in close to him, her body language playful yet suggestive, the way her fingers trail ever so lightly over his arm, her lips in a flirtatious grin.

She arches her back just slightly to showcase her cleavage, flipping her hair over her shoulder in one smooth, practiced motion. That’s when her eyes meet yours—subtle, but intentional, with a glint that sends a jolt straight through you.

That’s your cue.

Your heart races, a wicked smile creeping onto your lips as you straighten your posture and fix your tits in the slutty red top, making sure they’re sitting just right—nice and perfect.

Your heels click against the floor with each confident step as you walk towards them. There’s a rhythm to it, a sway to your hips that mimics the way she had made her approach.

Up close, he’s even sexier than you imagined. The moody lighting casts sensual hues of purple, green, and orange that only help him appear more attractive.

His chiseled jaw, curved nose, high cheekbones. He looks too good to be true. 

Then his dark brown eyes lock onto you, and there’s a flicker in them—hunger. Like he could bare his teeth and eat you whole.

It sends a shiver down your spine. You can feel the weight of his gaze trailing down your body, lingering on your exposed skin, appreciating every inch of you. 

She flashes you a knowing smile when you sidle up to her. “Javier, this is my other half,” she introduces you, your name falling from her lips sweetly. 

“Pretty name for a pretty girl.” You can’t help the way your cheeks heat up, feeling giddy.

“This doesn’t seem like your scene, agent.” You purr, eyeing his jacket, “Not a very festive costume, either.”

“Because it isn’t a costume.” He cocks his head to the side, “I just got off work. Had to come by to pick up my niece, Olivia, but it looks like I just missed her.” He licks his lips, “I was on my way out when my guardian angel decided to make an appearance.”

Your friend giggles and you bite your lip. Despite the loud music and other distractions, his voice is so smooth and velvety.

“Wow. A real agent.” Your eyes gleam as you lean in just a bit, close enough to catch the scent of his cologne. “Maybe you should perform a cavity search. Make sure we’re not hiding anything.”

You watch his reaction, a chuckle rumbling low in his throat as he shakes his head.

She sidles up closer, her hand brushing his arm ever so lightly. “Think we could get off with a warning, agent?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and you can’t help but imagine what that mouth would feel like on you, how those hands—so strong, so capable looking— would feel gripping your hips as he fucked you.

“Looks like I’ve got myself some trouble tonight.” His eyes sweep over your costumes, taking in every detail, from the way your devil horns glint in the light to the way her angel wings shimmer with every movement. “Heaven and Hell. Guess I’m stuck in purgatory, unsure of where I’m headed.”

You exchange a glance with your friend, the two of you silently playing off each other’s energy, feeding into the wicked thrill coursing through both of you.

Her lips curl into a flirtatious smile, her voice as sweet as candy. “We could help you find your way…” she teases, sliding a delicate finger down his chest. 

You can’t help but smirk, loving how the muscles in his chest tense beneath her touch. “Let us be the angel and devil on your shoulders tonight,” you coo, stepping in on his other side, close enough that your body brushes against his. The heat of him is intoxicating, making your skin prickle with excitement.

“And what’s the catch?”

She leans in, her lips almost brushing his ear as she whispers, “The catch?” She feigns innocence, acting like she doesn’t understand his question, letting her fingers toy just beneath the open collar of his shirt, teasing his skin with the softest of touches. 

“There is no catch, handsome. We just want to have some fun.” Your hand grazes the hard line of his jaw, feeling the faint stubble that tickles your fingertips.

“Fun, huh?” his voice drops lower, rougher, enjoying the subtle touches the both of you are giving him right now. “Then let’s get out of here.”

Your mouth presses hungrily against your friend’s, kissing feverishly, like you can’t get enough. Her lips are soft yet demanding, and every time she pulls away for air, you’re right back on her, kissing down her jaw as Javier’s truck speeds down the dimly lit road.

The flickering street lamps that zoom by create an almost rhythmic flash, illuminating the scene in quick bursts—hot, stolen glimpses of skin, hands, lips.

Your fingers are buried in her hair, pulling her closer as her tongue slides against yours, the wet heat between your mouths making your body hum. The two of you are lost in each other, your bodies pressed together as if the world outside doesn’t even exist.

But it does. And Javier is watching.

You steal a glance toward the front, catching his eyes in the rearview mirror. You can see the strain in his jaw, the way his fingers grip the steering wheel a little too tightly.

“Spread your legs, diablita,” Javier’s voice breaks through the thick fog of lust, so smooth and commanding. It’s like a spell the way your thighs part for him, instinctual, as if he controls every muscle in your body with just his voice.

You expose the red lace of your underwear, a matching set to the white one she has adorning her hips as well. You two were planning to end the night with someone in between you.

She pulls back just enough to look at you, her breath heavy, lips swollen and glistening from your kisses. Her eyes are glazed over, lost in the same spell that grips you.

She turns her head slightly, locking eyes with Javier in the mirror, and you can feel the intensity of their silent conversation, like something unspoken passes between them. It’s hot, so fucking hot, the way she looks at him, the way his brown eyes hold her there.

“Now touch her, angel.”

Her hand moves slowly, almost teasingly, fingers skimming down your body, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. She’s taking her time, her chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. Her thumb brushes over your stiffened nipple, causing you to moan softly and she smirks.

She finally reaches the soft skin of your inner thigh, and your breath hitches as her fingers stroke gently, sending sparks of pleasure through your body.

“Like this?” she asks, her voice breathless but playful, eyes returning to Javier in the mirror.

He grunts softly, “Exactly like that.” His eyes flick back to you, and the intensity of his gaze makes your body heat up even more, your hips subtly lifting toward her touch.

“Sexy little set you’re wearing,” Javier muses, “I can only assume our angel has on the same pair?”

Your gaze meets your friend’s, and you both bite your lips, exchanging a flirty look. Slowly, you both nod.

Javier hums in content, his eyes dark and hooded. “Fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs, “Push it to the side, I wanna see her pretty cunt.”

The command is directed at her, and the second it’s given, she’s already moving. She’s never this submissive, always one to take charge, at least with you, so seeing her so eager and obedient to this man definitely has your clit twitching out of excitement.

Her fingers hook around the flimsy fabric of your thong, and with a quick, teasing tug, she pulls it to the side. The cool air hits your wetness, and you can’t help but let out a soft gasp as you’re exposed to both of them.

Javier licks his lips, his gaze honing in on the sight of your messy folds, the lust in his eyes almost overwhelming.

He shifts slightly in his seat, his cock straining against his pants, painfully hard as he takes in the tantalizing view before him. “Fuck,” he curses under his breath, “go on, spread her open. Get her nice and wet for us.”

The way he says us sends a fresh wave of slick arousal dripping from you.

She doesn’t hesitate. Her fingers move with purpose, sliding between your seam and spreading you wide, showing off every inch of you to Javier’s hungry gaze. Her touch is delicate yet firm, and you shudder as she smears your sticky arousal across your sensitive labia.

Your head falls back against the seat, your breath coming in shallow gasps, lips parted as soft moans spill freely from your mouth.

She leans in closer, her lips brushing against your neck as her thumb presses down on your clit, driving you wild. “You’re so wet,” she whispers, her voice breathy, sending shivers down your spine. Her fingers barely dip inside you before sliding back to spread your lips wide once again.

Javier lets out a low groan from the front seat, his eyes glued to the sight of her playing with your cunt. His hand moves to his crotch, palming himself through his pants, his desire barely contained.

“You’re fucking gorgeous,” he breathes, his voice rough with restraint. His gaze moves between your parted lips, the slight tremble in your thighs, and finally to the road so he doesn’t kill you all.

“She is so pretty…” your friend adds her voice to the mix, halting her slow, torturous movements. The sudden lack of friction has you whining softly, your hips involuntarily shifting, chasing her touch. 

But then, instead of returning her fingers to your throbbing, wet center, she brings them to her lips, her eyes on yours. You watch, utterly transfixed, as her tongue darts out to kitten lick the slick coating her fingers, tasting you. The sound she makes—a soft hum of satisfaction, like she’s tasting the sweetest thing—sends another wave of ecstasy crashing through you.

“And she tastes so good,” she moans softly, as though she’s sharing a secret, and the way she lingers on her words makes your breath stutter.

Her gaze flicks to Javier, dark and mischievous as she leans forward slightly, her slick fingers shining with your arousal. “Do you want to try her?”

Javier’s jaw tightens at her question, his eyes narrowing as his desire for you both becomes palpable. The car slows as he nears a red light, giving him a moment to glance at her hand, then at you, before his gaze finally returns to her lips.

There’s a beat of silence, the only sound in the car are the heavy breaths coming from all three of you. 

Without a word, Javier leans over from the driver’s seat, his eyes locked on her fingers as he takes her wrist, pulling her hand toward him. His lips part as he slips her fingers into his mouth, his tongue flicking out to taste you from her skin. The groan that escapes him is guttural, a sound that makes your already wet pussy clench with anticipation and her moan pathetically.

“Fuck,” he mutters around her fingers raggedly. His eyes close for a brief second, savoring the taste of you, and when he finally pulls her fingers from his mouth, his gaze is fucking molten.

Before you know it, her lips are on his, their mouths crashing together in a quick, heated kiss. The taste of you still lingers on both of their tongues, and it makes the exchange all the more intense.

You watch them, your pulse quickening, your body already aching for more as you shift in the seat, thighs still spread.

The kiss breaks as quickly as it began, both of them pulling back, breathless. Javier’s hand moves back to the steering wheel as the light turns green, but his focus is still very much on you two, especially on the way you’re squirming , completely undone by what just happened.

“He’s such a good kisser.” She whispers into your ear, tugging at the lobe with her teeth gently.

“Looked real good. I’m kind of jealous,” you reply, breathless, allowing her to touch you all over, however she wants.

“Don’t be. You’ll get a taste of him too.”

Up at the front, his eyes glint with amusement while he watches, pulling into a nearby spot just outside your shared apartment. Finally.

You two lie back on the bed, stripped down to nothing but your matching thongs and the respective headbands of your costumes—your devilish horns and her angelic halo. Your breasts are fully exposed, nipples hardened by how turned on you are. 

Both of you are propped on your forearms, legs bent slightly, eyes lidded with anticipation as you stare up at Javier. 

He hasn’t even shed the damn DEA jacket. It clings so perfectly to his broad shoulders, the fabric hiding what you know to be a powerful frame beneath. His dark eyes roam over the two of you, drinking in the sight like you’re a masterpiece on display. 

He curses under his breath. “Look at you two… practically offering yourselves to me. Mi diablita y mi angelita.” His little devil and angel. 

His lips twitch into a smirk, and the low timbre of his voice has your core throbbing in anticipation.

With a simple motion, he beckons you over. “Ven acá,” he commands softly, his voice low and dripping with authority.

You move slowly off the bed. As you approach, he takes you by the waist, pulling you in suavely until your chest presses against his. Before you can even catch your breath, his lips are on yours. Firm, hungry, and demanding.

The moment his tongue slips into your mouth, it’s as though you’re lost in him, completely addicted to the way he kisses—so controlling and confident. His tongue moves with a fluid rhythm, caressing every part of your mouth like it’s his territory.

You gasp against his lips when his hand slides down to your ass, grabbing a handful of it with a harsh squeeze, his fingertips digging into the soft flesh. The pain mixes with pleasure, making you hiss, your hips instinctively pressing into him.

From the bed, she watches with wide eyes, her own pussy a mess as she witnesses him feeling you up. Her hand twitches, desperate to touch herself. 

Javier grunts, breaking the kiss with your bottom lip still between his teeth, giving it one last teasing tug before letting go.

He turns his attention to her, giving her a smoldering look that makes her breath catch. “Now you, angel. Come here,” he growls, and the urgency in his voice spurs her into action.

She moves toward him with eagerness, her halo slightly askew as she joins you by his side. You bite back a small giggle at how eager she is, but the moment is anything but light as Javier wraps one strong arm around her, pulling her close just as he did with you. His other hand remains firmly on your waist, keeping you close as well, as if he can’t bear to let either of you go.

Then he kisses her the same way he kissed you. His lips mold to hers, his tongue exploring her mouth as she melts against him. You can feel his hand tightening its grip on your waist as they make out, and it’s almost overwhelming, the heat and need radiating off him.

He breaks away from her, licking her bottom lip, eyes dark with lust. “Not sure if I want both of you kissing my cock,” he murmurs, turning his attention back to you, leaning in to nip at your jawline, “Or one of you choking on it while the other has her mouth full of cunt.”

Your hand fists the fabric of his pink shirt, knees weakening as the weight of his words settles deep in your core. Your mouth waters, not knowing which option excites you more.

“Both sound like a very fun time,” she chimes in, trying to pull his focus back to her, but Javier is too busy lavishing your neck with his lips and tongue.

Instead of replying, he sucks a mark into the tender skin just below your jaw, his mouth devouring you, while his hand trails up her body. Without a word, he presses on her shoulder, silently commanding her to kneel. She follows the instruction without hesitation, her body sinking to the floor between you and him.

You hear the familiar sound of his belt being undone, the metallic clink quickly followed by the hiss of his zipper. But everything else fades away when Javier kisses you again, his lips swallowing your soft moans as he takes his time exploring your mouth.

“Take my jacket off,” he mutters and you obey, pushing the heavy fabric off his broad shoulders, revealing the perfect fit of his pink shirt stretched across his muscular frame.

Holy shit. The sight alone makes you want to rip it off him like a feral woman, but you manage to control yourself, though just barely.

He groans, the sound vibrating into your mouth, and your gaze drops to the sight of the angel between his legs. Her hands wrap around his thick shaft, pressing his cock flat against his stomach as her tongue traces the thick vein running along his length.

He’s unlike anyone you’ve been with before, and the realization only makes your pulse race faster.

“Oh fuck,” he groans again, his hand tightening on your ass, squeezing the soft flesh through his fingers. “My shirt, unbutton it.”

Your fingers fumble with how eager you are. The buttons refuse to cooperate, and frustration begins to creep in, but before you can truly lose your patience, Javier senses it. His lips brush your ear as he whispers, “Slowly, diablita, no te apures.”

You nod, forcing yourself to slow down, digits working more carefully now. You undo each button, revealing the bronze expanse of his chest, inch by inch. Your lips part, taking in the view, gaze roaming over every dip and contour of his muscles.

“Mmm,” you moan softly, leaning in to kiss his collarbones, letting your lips linger over his warm skin. You can’t resist biting down lightly, marking him as if he’s yours, even though you hear the sloppy sound of her spitting below, her mouth working his cock in earnest.

“She doesn’t have a gag reflex…” you whisper against his neck, drunk on his grunts of pleasure. You expect to hear approval in his response, but instead, his brows furrow.

“Really?” He growls, fingers tangling in her hair, and without warning, he pulls her off his cock with one smooth motion. She gasps, her eyes are wide and dazed, still high off the taste of him on her tongue.

“A damn shame,” he tilts his head mockingly, “I like hearing my girls gag and choke on it.”

She looks lost for a moment, pretty lips swollen and glossy with his precome, but before she can protest, Javier’s attention shifts to you. His gaze is searing.

“¿Y tú, diablita? You got that party trick too, or am I going to have to break your throat open by shoving my cock down it?”

The filthy words send a sharp pulse of heat through your body, and you can feel the wetness pooling between your legs, soaking your thong and smearing against your inner thighs.

You’re so turned on you could cry, desperate to feel every inch of him inside you.

“Use my mouth, Javier,” you plead, your voice breathy and wrecked, “please.”

A wicked smile spreads across his lips. “On your knees.”

You don’t hesitate, dropping down to the carpeted floor beside her. Javier holds her by her hair, tilting her head up as he addresses her softly, “You did so well, beautiful girl. Now help her get it wet so I can fuck you.”

She obeys, her lips moving to the base of his cock as you take his thick head into your mouth, the taste of him, mixed with her saliva, having your eyes flutter close. Your tongue swirls around his swollen bulbous head, and then you move together, licking and sucking in perfect harmony.

You take a deep breath, steadying yourself before sliding his thick cock deeper into your mouth. The stretch is intense, and you feel your throat tighten as you try to take him down. At the same time, her lips wrap around the heft of his balls, and the combination of both your mouths working on him draws a low moan from Javier that makes your thighs tense.

Determined to please him, you push yourself further, choking yourself around his length. Your eyes water, tears brimming as you glance up at him, searching for his reaction. He’s already watching you, his lips curled into that cocky, half-smirk you’ve come to crave.

Seeing that expression spurs you on. You start moving your head up and down, hollowing your cheeks with each slow drag, the gagging sound deliberate as your throat tightens around him. Beneath you, she continues lavishing his balls with attention, her mouth hot and eager, and Javier’s groans grow louder, his hips starting to subtly rock into your mouth.

At one point, the two of you get so lost in it, your mouths collide, tongues tangling as you kiss each other with Javier’s cock between your lips. Her hand slips up to your chest, pinching at your nipples as you both work him, and you hear Javier above you, a mess of pleasure as he watches his two pretty girls worship his dick.

His voice drips with authority as he watches the two of you with dark, lust-filled eyes. “Get on the bed, angelita. Hands and knees. Gonna take your pussy from behind while our little devil sucks your clit and licks at my dick while I fuck you.”

The moment you release him from your mouth with a wet pop, you can feel how swollen your lips are, your makeup smeared, eyeliner streaking down your cheeks. You and your friend look like something out of the filthiest, most erotic fantasy, and Javier can’t take his eyes off you. The thought crosses his mind that if he took a photo right now, it’d be worth a fucking fortune.

You both follow his command, positioning yourselves on the bed just as he ordered. She hovers over you, bent over, her ass high in the air, while your head dangles off the edge of the bed in a perfect sixty-nine.

He undresses, his gaze never leaving your bodies, watching with that predatory hunger as you and her begin to tease each other.

The delicate fabric of your thongs are finally gone and her warm breath ghosts over your exposed folds, making your pussy clench in anticipation.

She starts slow, kissing your inner thighs and around your heat but never quite giving you what you need. You can’t help but let out a whine, wrapping your arms around her thighs and pulling her down onto your face. Her soft, slick lips press against your mouth, and you waste no time licking up the seam of her pussy, savoring the headiness of her arousal.

Your moans vibrate against her cunt as you devour her, her taste overwhelming you, familiar but always intoxicating. Your tongue dances between her folds, lapping up her wetness before flicking at her pearl, making her shudder above you.

Her hips begin to roll, grinding down onto your mouth, but the second her lips latch onto your clit, you lose all sense of control. Her fingers spread your folds apart, exposing your sensitive bud to her relentless tongue, and you cry out into her pussy, your hips bucking involuntarily.

The room is filled with the obscene sounds of your wet mouths working each other over. You’re both so immersed in the pleasure of giving and receiving, that you barely register the bed shifting under Javier’s weight until his hands are on her ass. His large palms knead and spank the supple flesh, making her gasp into your cunt as the flesh jostles against your eager tongue.

“Damn. Look at you two. So fucking hot. You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” His voice is a growl, sending a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.

Your only response is a moan as she sucks your clit harder, making cry out. Javier smirks, relishing the sight and sound of you both writhing in pleasure. “I really lucked out tonight.”

He grabs his cock, stroking it as he positions himself behind her. The tip of him slides through along her cunt, teasing her fluttering hole, and you can feel the tremble in her thighs as he lines himself up.

You move your head to kiss and lick the underside of his cock, your tongue tracing the thick vein, working your way down to his balls. Your mouth latches onto them, sucking one into your mouth, your lips wet and hot around him.

You feel her entire body jolt when Javier finally pushes into her, filling her in one smooth, hard thrust. Her moan is muffled by your pussy, her face buried deeper into you, and you can’t help but cry out.

“Oh Javi…” she gasps against you, her voice shaky as she tries to hold herself up, but her face remains pressed to your cunt, her lips still working you over despite the overwhelming sensation of being fucked from behind.

Javier groans above you, his hips rolling into her in deep, slow strokes that make her whimper and squirm against you. “Good job, diablita,” he praises, his voice low and rough. “You hear that?” He thrusts harder, his cock plunging deeper into her, and you hear the slick, wet sound of her cunt weeping around him. “She’s fuckin’ crying for it.”

You can’t even form a response, too overwhelmed by the sensation of her mouth on your clit and your own mouth full of his balls. You’re drunk off the combined pleasure, your body quivering with need, every nerve on fire.

Javier grips her hips tightly, fucking her harder, his pace rough now. Her cries of pleasure are snuffed as she desperately licks at your pussy, her hand skipping down to rub your clit as Javier pounds into her.

The intensity is too much, the pleasure building into a crescendo that has you teetering on the edge of release.

She plunges two fingers inside you, your hips instinctively bucking to meet the pressure, needing more. And she gives it to you, even as Javier pounds the last coherent thought out of her head, his cock relentless inside her.

Every sensation is amplified as your mouth alternates between worshiping the inches of his cock as they disappear and reappear with each powerful thrust, and lapping at her swollen clit, her arousal coating his cock and dripping onto your tongue—sweet, salty, and heady.

Your lips slip from her clit just as her fingers curl inside you, matching the rhythm of his thrusts. You can feel the tension in her body, the way her breath quickens as her head lolls back onto her shoulder, helpless how you’re both making her feel. “I’m right there,” she gasps, breathy and urgent. “Oh god, I’m about to come.”

Her fingers dig deeper inside you, curling, while her thumb expertly flits over your sensitive clit, making your body tremble. Your pussy tightens around her fingers in anticipation, riding that delicious edge with her.

“That’s right, angel,” Javier growls, his voice rough, driving into her with a brutal rhythm. “Come on, make a mess all over this dick.”

His thumb slides down her cunt, collecting the mixture of your saliva, his precome, and her creamy arousal, and without warning, he presses it against her tight, puckered hole. He pushes in slowly, her body tensing, and that’s all it takes.

“Oh fuck, Javi!” she screams, her orgasm crashing into her like a tidal wave. Her fingers freeze inside you as she’s overcome by the intensity of it, her entire body going taut with pleasure

 Her mouth hovers above your pussy, so close, but she’s too far gone to continue pleasuring you.

Javier groans, his hand tangling in her hair, and with one rough motion, he pushes her down, forcing her lips back onto your throbbing heat.

The sudden pressure of her mouth against your overstimulated clit has you yelping, your thighs clenching tightly around her head as the waves of your own orgasm crash into you without warning. Your body shudders, your mouth still working around where their bodies connect, tasting her on him as you both lose yourselves in the euphoria.

He doesn’t let up, thrusting into her through her climax, his grunts echoing in the room. Both of you collapse, sweaty and trembling, drenched in each other’s fluids and completely spent, like you’re drunk off the dizzying mix of sex and pleasure.

But Javier’s far from finished.

“No, don’t quit on me now,” he tuts, his balls heavy and his cock still throbbing with need as he pulls out of her, his slick length absolutely drenched.

Before you can catch your breath, he moves, slipping his cock between your parted lips. Your eyes widen at the sudden intrusion, but the taste of her cum on his velvety shaft makes you moan as you greedily take him into your throat, your tongue swirling around him, desperate to please.

“That’s right, baby,” he groans, his voice thick with satisfaction as he thrusts into your mouth. “Doing so fucking good. Should have you wearing that goddamn halo.”

You hear her soft laugh from beside you as she rolls off, collapsing onto her back, her chest heaving as she stares up at the ceiling, completely blissed out. You feel the heat of his body as he slides out of your mouth, his thumb caressing your cheek before delivering a light slap.

Your skin tingles with the sting, and his next words make your stomach twist with anticipation. “Sit up,” he orders, his voice firm. You obey, your body trembling, ready for whatever he wants next.

“You okay, angel?” Javier’s voice is tender as he hovers over her, planting soft kisses along her flushed skin. His large hands knead her breasts, fingers expertly teasing her nipples with gentle pinches that make her moan.

She arches into him, threading her fingers through his hair, pulling him up for a kiss, their lips meeting with a heated softness.

You can’t resist joining them, your lips finding his shoulder as you bite down on the taut muscle, your teeth grazing the warm skin before you trail your kisses to his neck. He groans into her mouth, making your core ache with need, the sight of them kissing driving your arousal higher.

“I’m fine,” she breathes against his lips, satisfied but not yet spent. “Just need a second. You should play with her. I think she wants you more than I do.”

Javier chuckles, leaving a few more tender pecks on her lips before turning his full attention to you. His dark eyes are almost mocking as they meet yours. “That true?”

You nod without hesitation, not even fully comprehending what you’re agreeing to, but at this point, you’d say yes to anything just to feel his cock inside you, stretching you out, bringing relief to that deep ache.

In one swift motion, he maneuvers you onto his lap, guiding you to sink down on him. Your knees press into the mattress on either side of his hips as you both groan, the tight stretch of him pushing into your wet heat making you gasp.

The burn is exquisite, and the fullness—God, you never want it to end.

You start moving, slowly at first, trying to find a rhythm as your body adjusts to his girth.

His lips latch onto your neck, biting and sucking, leaving blotchy marks all the way down to your breasts. When he wraps his mouth around your nipple, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, you whimper, your pace picking up as the pleasure coils tighter inside you.

His calloused fingers pinch and roll your other stiffened peak, adding to the building tension, making you bounce harder on his cock.

And then you feel her behind you—the soft warmth of her tits pressing against your naked back, her breath hot against your ear as she plays with your hair before sliding down to your hips. Her touch guides your movements, her acrylic nails digging just enough to leave a sting in your skin.

Your head falls back onto her shoulder, your body trembling with the intensity of it all. You catch her eye, and the two of you share a slow, knowing smile, a silent acknowledgment of the intoxicating pleasure you’re both wrapped up in.

Meanwhile, Javier’s lips stay glued to your breasts, alternating between your nipples as he grunts with each bounce, his cock driving deeper inside you, brushing against every sensitive spot.

“You look so good riding his dick. Don’t know if we’re ever gonna top this,” her hand slides up to tilt your jaw, guiding your lips to hers. The kiss is messy, her tongue swirling around your own, and all you can do is moan into it, completely surrendered to the pleasure they’re both giving you.

Javier detached from your chest, mesmerized by the sight of you two kissing. The tension in the air crackles with desire, and he can’t resist joining in.

The three of you come together in a heated, tangled, trio makeout session—lips, tongues, and breath intermingling in a way that feels both chaotic and addicting.

The scratch of his mustache against your skin sends shivers down your spine, while her soft, breathy moans fill your ears like a sweet melody, lulling you deeper into bliss.

His cock twitches inside you, and your walls respond, squeezing him tighter. You can’t help but grind down on him, your body desperate for more. That sensation is enough to break the kiss, both of them pulling back as you gasp for air.

“Gonna come inside you, diablita,” Javier pants out, his voice low and full of heat. “While our angel sits on my face. That okay?”

Better than okay—it’s fucking perfect.

She giggles softly, and you nod, allowing him to reposition you like a doll in his hands, his strong grip shifting you further down the bed while he stays buried inside you. She straddles his face, her thighs quivering as he pulls her down, his lips already teasing her swollen folds.

You start moving again, rolling your hips as the room fills with the heavy scent of sex, the sounds of pleasure. Her moans grow louder, her head lolling forward as she leans to kiss you again, her whimpers melting into your mouth as Javier’s nose nudges her clit and his lips devour her.

You brace yourself, leaning back and planting your hands between his spread legs as you begin to bounce on his cock, the angle hitting that perfect spot inside you with every thrust. You cry out his name, your voice breaking as the pleasure swells. His hands hold her steady, keeping her close while he’s lost between her thighs, groaning into her soaked pussy as he jerks his hips up, meeting your movements.

She kisses down your neck, her lips warm against your hot skin, trailing down to your tits. Her teeth gently tug at your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core before she lowers herself enough to kitten lick over your clit.

You gasp, feeling her mouth move sinfully against your sensitive pearl, then down to where Javier’s thick cock stretches you wide, her lips brushing against the point where he disappears inside you.

The sensation is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced, a dizzying blend of pleasure that’s too intense to put into words. “Fuck, keep doing that—oh shit,” you babble, barely able to form a coherent thought. Your body feels like it’s burning brightly as you fist the sheets beneath you, your head thrown back in pure ecstasy.

Javier groans into her, and you feel him start to lose control, his thrusts becoming more erratic. The three of you move together in perfect rhythm, lost in the heat of the moment, riding the waves of pleasure that threaten to pull you under.

Your breath comes in short, shallow gasps, the pressure inside your core winding tighter and tighter with every stroke, every flick of her tongue.

He growls low and deep, pulling his mouth from her only long enough to mutter through gritted teeth, “Fuck, you two are gonna make me lose it.”

The rawness of his voice sends you spiraling. You grind down on him harder, your hips rocking in desperation as your moans mix with hers, a chorus of pleasure that fills the room. Sweat beads on your skin, slicking your movements as you chase your release.

“Come on,” his voice is strained and muffled by her thick thighs. “I want to feel you fall apart on my cock.”

That’s all it takes. With one more thrust, one more wet suck of her pretty mouth, your body locks up, pleasure crashing over you in an overwhelming wave. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, your walls clenching around him in pulsing waves.

She moans into your overstimulated sex, humping his face, her movements reeking with desperation until she cries out, her thighs trembling around Javier’s head as her orgasm overpowers her.

He’s succeeded in his goal of satisfying you two which in turn satisfies him, his chest shaking with a groan, cock throbbing as he spills into you. The feeling of his cum filling your pussy up sends another shiver of pleasure through your body, prolonging your high.

You’re all spent, bodies buzzing with the aftershocks of your shared release. Javier’s hands loosen their grip on her thighs as she slowly pulls herself off him, collapsing on the bed and you fall forward onto his chest.

His cock is still softening inside you as he wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you close. He presses a kiss to your temple, his breath hot against your skin.

“You two were... fuckin’ perfect,” he murmurs, moving his free hand to rub over her body, making sure to share some comforting, grounding touches with her as well.

She smiles lazily, rolling on her side and cuddling into his side as he wraps his arm around her, her fingers tracing patterns on your naked skin as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, basking in this amazing feeling you don’t think you’ll ever feel again.

The three of you lie there in a tangle of limbs, your heartbeats slowly returning to normal.

His body begins to gear up to slip away, to excuse himself from the bed and let you both rest.

You and your friend exchange a glance, and without saying a word, you share a matching smirk. There’s a mischievous glint in her eyes, and it mirrors your own as you sit up slightly. 

As if on cue, her hand slides down his chest, teasingly brushing over his soft stomach then drifting lower, her nails grazing the skin just above where you’re still connected to him.

At the same time, your fingers trace a slow, sensual path up his neck, your lips brushing against his jawline as you press a gentle kiss there, whispering, “Where do you think you’re going, Javi?”

He groans softly, still a little dazed from the post-coital bliss, but you can already see the spark of renewed interest in his gaze. He shifts and you feel his cock stir again inside you.

“Yeah,” she purrs, leaning in to kiss his neck, her hand slipping lower to toy with him. “We’re not done with you yet.”

Javier chuckles, but there’s a hint of surprise in his voice. “Oh, really?” His hand grips your waist a little tighter as his other palm slides down to cup your friend’s ass, pulling her closer against him. “You two think you can handle me again?”

The playful challenge in his voice only makes you both smile wider. You rock your hips ever so slightly, feeling him hardening inside you. “We know we can,” you murmur, your voice dripping with lust.

“And we’re not letting you go until we’ve had our fill.”

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @magneticecstasy . @miss-oranje-disco-dancer . @persephone-girl . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled .

@puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @pepperstories . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @angiewatson . @dinanabuu . @sunshinefive .

[wholoveseggs]

hi! I see you have a bunch of requests so I’m sorry to request but do you think you could write an Elijah angst with fluff ? Like y/n is upset because she thinks that elijah likes Hayley but he’s actually in love with her and has been for centuries but has always been too scared to tell her.

Always

18+ ---- {Masterlist}

Upon your unexpected appearance at the compound, centuries after being presumed dead, Elijah has to grapple with feelings he long buried and the consequences that come with it.

~♡♡ Thanks for the request anon(s) & @vervain3 ♡♡ - I combined all three ideas and made a jealousy triangle {square? circle? idk}~

3k words - Warnings: a little smutty right at the end, drama, angst, jealousy... vaguely refer to events from season 2 & 3... Klaus interfering & loving all the drama (Regina George energy)

It was a rare thing for Elijah Mikaelson to fall in love, but when he did, it was forever. In his one thousand years of living he could count on one hand the number of times his heart had truly belonged to someone else and he could recall, with exact detail, everything about them.

There was Tatia, the first woman he ever fell for, and then there was Katerina, or Katherine, who was a thorn in his side and a constant source of regret.Then Celeste came into the picture, a beautiful and powerful witch, her loss and betrayal still a bitter taste in his mouth.

And then there was you, the brightest light in his dark life. Your face still burned brightly in his memories and your name still danced on his tongue like the sweetest melody. You did things to him that no one else could, dissolving his burdens with just a smile.

You had captured his heart with just one look and he had been yours, mind, body, and soul. He was so in love with you, it hurt.

So when you died, he was shattered, torn apart and left to deal with the pain alone. He would see your face everywhere, haunting him and reminding him of his failure to protect the one he loved. To never be able to tell you how he felt was the most painful thing of all.

Centuries had passed since he lost you, his grief now a dull ache in his heart, but nothing had ever truly made the pain go away.

Hayley's presence in his life mended the broken pieces somewhat, but they were still damaged. His feelings for the hybrid would never be enough to erase the ghost of his love for you.

He accepted being content with what he had, knowing he didn't deserve anything more. That he was lucky to have met his soul mate, even if you were never truly his. To know that true love was real, if not fleeting.

So when he saw you, sitting on the sofa in the courtyard, laughing and chatting with Klaus, his heart stopped. He wondered if he was imagining you again, if his mind was playing a cruel trick on him.

But you turned, your gaze meeting his and the world stopped. He felt his knees grow weak, and his heart race.

You were real, you were here, you were alive.

And you looked just as beautiful as the day he last saw you.

But there was a bit of a problem, he was with Hayley now. You were back and he didn't know how to feel about that.

"Elijah, how long has it been? You look well." You greet him with a smile, pulling him in for a hug.

Elijah hesitated before wrapping his arms around you, inhaling the scent that he had thought he'd never experience again. He couldn't help but hold you a little tighter, afraid that if he let you go, you'd disappear.

"Y/N," he whispers softly.

You pull back, noticing the way his eyes seem to burn brighter, full of emotions you couldn't read.

"How are you? I haven't seen you since..." you trail off.

"Since you died," he finishes, his eyes looking at you curiously.

"Since you left me behind," you corrected him.

Elijah frowned, not understanding what you were talking about. The night Mikael returned, you were killed and your body burnt, at least, that's what Klaus had told him.

"Klaus said you were killed, we didn't have time to retrieve your body."

You shake your head. "That wasn't me, he was mistaken."

"So where were you?" he asked, still unable to believe you were really here.

"Here and there," you said with a smile, none of that mattered now.

You always had a soft spot for Elijah, when you first met him and his family, you found him to be so stoic and melancholic. You delighted in making him laugh, his smile lighting up his whole face and giving him the air of youth and carefreeness that you knew he had buried deep within him.

Nothing ever happened between you, he tended to fall for more serious types. But you never stopped loving him, he was always going to be the one you couldn't forget.

"You're as bad as Niklaus," Elijah said, chuckling lightly.

"I'll take that as a compliment," you grinned.

You were interrupted by a beautiful brunette with stunning hazel eyes, she walked up and placed her hand on Elijah's shoulder, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

"Y/N, this is Hayley," Elijah introduced, his hand going to rest on her back.

Of course, you thought. She was exactly his type, beautiful and fierce.

You gave her a small smile, shaking her hand.

"How do you know Elijah?" she asked, curious.

"We met a very long time ago, in another place," you answered, giving Elijah a sidelong glance. "In another life."

Hayley looked between the two of you, sensing there was more to your relationship than you were letting on. She wasn't going to let you anywhere near what was hers.

"What brings you here? To New Orleans, I mean?"

"I heard the original family has settled here and I wanted to catch up with old friends," you replied. "But mostly, I'm just passing through,"

Hayley frowned, "old friends," she repeated, her hand tightening around Elijah's shoulder.

She had only just met you, but already, she knew she didn't like you. You seemed to have a permanent smirk on your face that reminded her of Klaus, and that made her distrust you instantly. And the way Elijah was looking at you made her feel uneasy, she had never seen him look so...happy.

"Oh," Elijah's expression faltered, his disappointment barely noticeable. "You're leaving?"

"Well, I don't want to overstay my welcome," you joked, your eyes flickering to Hayley's.

"How about you join us tonight for dinner," Klaus said, walking up and joining the group, he always knew exactly how to make an awkward situation worse. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."

You gave him a small smile. "Sure,"

When you arrived for dinner, you were surprised by the amount of people Klaus had invited. It was a bit of a relief, it would mean that you didn't have to be alone with Elijah and Hayley.

Klaus stood at the head of the table, making introductions, there were a number of vampires and werewolves present, including a werewolf alpha named Jackson and a handsome vampire named Marcel.

You greeted them all politely, before taking a seat next to Marcel.

"Y/N, this is my dear friend Marcellus," Klaus greeted, "you two have a remarkable amount in common."

Marcel smiles, "hello, beautiful."

"Hi," you smiled back, your eyes lingering on his, he had a killer smile and a charm to him that was difficult to resist.

You were glad to have someone to talk to, you could tell Marcel had a great sense of humor and you enjoyed his company. You also found yourself attracted to him, he was definitely your type.

"So, how do you know the Mikaelsons?" Marcel asked, a little confused. "I didn't think they had any friends outside their family,"

"Klaus turned me centuries ago, when they were hiding out in my town." You explain, taking a sip of your wine. "They needed allies, so he made some of us into vampires."

"Ahh, been there, done that." Marcel replied with a smile, leaning in closer, his hand brushing against yours.

Elijah watched from the other end of the table, his eyes flickering between the pair, his stomach knotting with every touch and look exchanged between you.

You didn't miss his glances, or his frowns, and you wondered what his problem was. He had his gorgeous girlfriend by his side, why was he looking at you this way?

Klaus delighted in the growing jealousy he could see bubbling up inside Elijah. He knew his brother had always loved you, but never made a move. And now, he was paying for it.

Klaus watched as you flirted with Marcel, enjoying the sight of Elijah growing increasingly frustrated.

"They seem cozy, how cute," he mused, his eyes gleaming.

"Yes, it appears that way," Elijah replied, his jaw clenching.

Hayley smiled at you and Marcel, "they’d make a good couple,"

"Would they?" Elijah asked, a hint of irritation in his tone.

Hayley didn't notice, she was too busy watching the way your eyes lingered on each other's and the way Marcel leaned in close and whispered in your ear, making you laugh.

Elijah didn't miss the spark in your eyes as you spoke with Marcel, the way your face lit up and the way his fingers traced patterns on your skin.

He wanted to rip his heart out.

He felt himself growing angrier by the minute, his hands clenched and his jaw tight. He could barely keep up with the conversation, his attention focused on you, his jealousy eating away at him.

There you were, so close, your laughter filling the air, the sound he had been longing to hear for so long. And he was stuck sitting across from you, watching you get closer to another man.

"Jackson, tell me about this ritual you mentioned earlier," Klaus said, interrupting Elijah's thoughts.

"Well," Jackson began, looking between Hayley and Elijah awkwardly. "It could possibly give the pack hybrid-like abilities,"

Hayley smiled, "that's exactly what we need Klaus, an army to protect our child."

"What would this ritual involve?" Elijah asked, trying to distract himself from the sound of your laughter.

"A marriage," Jackson answered. "Between myself and Hayley,"

"A marriage?" Hayley asked, confused. "I thought this was just a ritual?"

Jackson shook his head, "in order for it to work, we need to marry,"

Hayley frowned, looking between Jackson and Elijah. She wasn't sure how she felt about the idea of marrying anyone but Elijah, but she had no choice, she would do anything for her daughter.

"It would give us the power and numbers we need," Klaus agreed. "We could protect Hope from anyone who wished her harm."

Elijah felt strangely relieved, despite knowing how selfish it was. He thought he loved Hayley, that her marrying another would bother him, but he was more bothered by the way Marcel was touching you, he realized that his feelings for Hayley weren't enough.

He still loved you, and he always would.

"I guess that's it then," Hayley sighed, glancing over at Elijah, wondering what was going through his mind.

"We can discuss it further tomorrow, but I'm sure it's something that would benefit us all," Elijah said, his voice steady.

Hayley nodded, her heart breaking at his indifference. She didn't understand, she had hoped he would argue against it, at least a little bit, but it appeared she was mistaken.

She glanced over at you, seeing the way you kept looking at Elijah. She realized that your presence had shifted something in her relationship, and she couldn't help but feel a twinge of anger towards you.

After dinner, everyone had a drink or two and mingled. Elijah and Hayley found a private corner to chat about her wedding, their conversation awkward and strained, filled with hidden meanings.

"Are you alright?" Elijah asked, noticing the pain in her eyes.

"Yeah, fine." Hayley nodded, taking a sip of her drink. "I just thought you would... I dunno... Protest the wedding more."

Elijah hesitated, "we need to do whatever we can to bring home Hope." He spoke carefully, "you know that I... care for you."

Hayley looked away, trying to hide the hurt on her face. He 'cared for' her, but it wasn't enough.

"You care for me," she repeated, her voice lacking the inflection of surprise. "But you don't love me, do you?"

She looked up at him, their eyes locking. He looked at her sadly, the regret in his eyes telling her all she needed to know.

"You'll always have a place in my heart, Hayley," he said. "It's just-"

"She's back," she finished, nodding sadly. "You've always loved her."

Elijah didn't respond, instead he simply stared at her, their eyes full of unspoken words, unshed tears and the promise of a life together that would never be.

Hayley took a breath, blinking back her tears.

"I should probably go and join the others," she said, turning to walk away. "I'll… see you around,”

Elijah released a breath, running his hand through his hair. He stood there, debating whether he should go over and talk to you.

Hayley could tell from the way you'd been looking at him that your feelings for him were the same. She was hurt, and a little drunk, and a more than a bit angry.

Her eyes narrowed as she saw Marcel whisper something in your ear, his hand resting on your shoulder. You seemed to have every man here wrapped around your finger instantly, even Elijah.

Hayley walked up to you, her eyes flashing. "It's incredible how you just return out of the blue and have every man here panting at your heels."

You raised an eyebrow, not expecting the hostility.

"I'm sorry, have I offended you in some way?" You asked, giving her a confused look.

"No, you're just a slut who can't seem to keep her hands off the men around here." Hayley snapped.

You looked at her in surprise, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, Marcel and I were only flirting," you replied.

Hayley glared at you, her fists clenching. You could see the rage burning in her eyes, and you were tempted to push her further, just to see how far you could take it. But before you could, Jackson was by her side, a worried look on his face.

"Come on Hayley, let's get some air," he said, pulling her away from you.

Marcel watched as they left, his arm draped around your shoulders.

"What was that about?" He asked, glancing down at you.

"Your guess is as good as mine," you shrugged, your gaze drifting over to Elijah.

He was looking at you as well, his eyes wide and searching, as if he couldn't believe you were really there.

"I'm sorry Marcel, I think I'm going to turn in early," you said, smiling apologetically. "It's been a long day."

Marcel nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

"Call me sometime, if you're interested," he said with a grin, winking playfully.

"Sure, thanks." You nodded, returning his smile.

You made your way over to Klaus, thanking him for the dinner, and bidding him a goodnight. You then approached Elijah, a small smile on your face, your heart pounding.

"It's wonderful to see you, after all these years," he said, his voice a little hoarse.

"You too, Elijah." You said, giving him a genuine smile.

"I want to show you something, before you go." He said, extending his hand out to you.

You hesitated, glancing down at his hand, a part of you afraid to get your hopes up, to believe that he saw you as more than a friend. But when your eyes met his, you could see something in his gaze, and it gave you the confidence you needed to take his hand.

"Lead the way,"

Elijah gave you a small smile, leading you to his study. He walked over to his desk, searching around until he pulled out a wooden box.

He placed it on the desk, opening the lid. Inside was a pendant necklace, a gold chain with a small emerald medallion hanging from it, with your initials engraved.

You hadn't seen it in centuries, not since the night you parted, and the sight of it brought a flood of emotions crashing down.

"You kept it," you whispered, your eyes stinging with tears.

"Of course," Elijah replied, his voice quiet, a smile playing on his lips. "It was yours, it belongs with you."

Your fingers gently grazed the pendant, the cool metal a reminder of your human life. It was given to you by your mother, the only thing you had left of her. You had treasured it, and when it broke, Elijah had offered to get it fixed for you.

But when Mikael arrived and you were separated, you thought it was forever lost.

"You got it fixed," you whispered, a tear rolling down your cheek.

"Yes, it was important to you." Elijah replied, his voice soft, a smile on his face.

"After all these years, after everything, why did you keep it?" You asked, confused.

"It was all I had left of you," he replied, his voice barely audible.

You swallowed, unable to speak, your throat tight and your chest aching. You'd never imagined he'd held onto such a keepsake, a reminder of you he held onto for centuries after he believed you to be dead.

Elijah gently picked up the necklace, placing it around your neck, his hands lingering.

"I'm happy to return this to you," he whispered. "It's where it belongs."

Your hand went up to the pendant, tears streaming down your cheeks. You turned to face him and his hand cupped your cheek, wiping away the tears. You leaned into his touch, his skin warm against yours.

He stared into your eyes, his expression filled with emotion, his heart beating erratically.

"I want you to know that I..." his voice trailed off as he struggled to find the right words. "That I have never forgotten you."

"I never forgot you either," you whispered, your gaze dropping to his lips, your own parting.

He leaned in slowly, closing the gap between you. His lips were soft, gentle, as they pressed against yours, you both sighed, melting into each other. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you close.

He moved you back until you hit the desk, his lips moving down your neck, nipping and kissing, causing you to moan. Your hands grasped at his clothes, tugging him closer, desperate for him.

Elijah lifted you onto the desk, pushing his body between your legs, his hardness pressed against you. His mouth was on yours again, his hands roaming your body, exploring every inch.

"Wait, wait," you panted, breaking the kiss. "You are with Hayley,"

Elijah paused, his eyes locked with yours, his chest heaving. "Not anymore."

You stared at him, confusion and desire muddling your thoughts.

"What?" You managed, still struggling to catch your breath.

"We broke up, tonight," he explained, his voice husky, his hands caressing your thighs.

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind, but his closeness and his hands on your body were making it impossible to think. He kissed you again, his lips hungry, his tongue delving into your mouth, tasting you.

You moaned, arching into him, your hands roaming his body, pulling him closer. His hands tugged at your dress, hiking it up your thighs, moving your panties to the side.

"I want you," he muttered, his eyes dark, filled with lust.

You whispered his name as his fingers slipped inside you, his thumb rubbing your clit. His mouth was on your neck, his teeth grazing your skin, nibbling softly. You gasped, your hands grasping at his belt, trying desperately to undo it.

He pushed his pants and underwear down, his cock springing free. He positioned himself between your legs, easing into you slowly. Your eyes locked, both of you filled with an intense, desperate need for the other.

Elijah groaned, gripping the desk, his knuckles turning white, as he began thrusting into you, slow and deep. You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, your moans filling the room.

His movements became faster, more frantic, his cock hitting that spot deep inside you. You felt yourself getting closer, your muscles tightening, your breathing becoming shallow.

His lips crashed against yours, his hands gripping your thighs, holding them open. The desperate way he was fucking you was a testament to the feelings he held for you, and it only fueled your desire for him.

You moaned into his mouth as you came, your orgasm hitting you hard, making your body tremble, your muscles spasming.

Elijah buried his face in your neck, sinking his fangs into you as he let go, his body shuddering. You held him, stroking his hair, feeling his body relax.

"I've always loved you," he whispered.

"I love you, too." You replied, kissing his temple.

He kissed you again, his hands cradling your face. He smiled at you, his eyes filled with warmth, and a deep love that was reserved only for you.

It felt like coming home.

♡♡ Hayley is jealous of you -> you are jealous of Hayley -> Elijah is jealous of Marcel... & Marcel is too cool to care. ♡♡ ~What kind of jealously geometry is this??? I'm a writer not a mathematician lol~

[silverzoomies]

Cunning Linguist

pietro maximoff x reader smut

warnings: cunnilingus, porn with (slight) plot, blow jobs, dissociative identity disorder, dissociation, existential crisis, smut, shameless smut, halloween, canon divergence

word count: 3,990

a/n: i meant to finish this ages ago. but i always overthink shit. i rewrote this several times, and it still doesn't feel worth posting. oh well !! just meaningless filth - same old story, different clothing. i wanted to play with the concept of pietro as an alter in ralph's head. again. lol

he's a little ooc here. but i'm blaming the brain fog. i'm running on three hours of sleep every night. fuck it, we ball. also, not including a tag list because tumblr's system kinda sucks for it. sorry !!

Pietro recalled the moment his consciousness came to light.

Agnes waved her spooky hands in his face, as though she were taunting him. She muttered incantations under her breath. The words of which Pietro didn’t recognize as English. After implanting sentimental memories in his mind - based on stories of Wanda’s childhood - she sent him off on his own. Like letting a dog loose, free to roam. 

Pietro’s mission? Find Wanda, have a gabfest or two, extract information. Or something along those lines. Pietro hadn’t paid much attention while Agnes yapped about it. Why focus on that, when the mystery of his own sentience piqued his interest instead?

He was given an easy enough job to do. No problem-o. Pietro had a talent for pestering people til’ they cracked. That’s what Agnes told him, anyway. He wasn’t too sure why she wanted him to play undercover rat. It had something to do with magic. Pietro knew that much. There was some kinda witch-on-witch rivalry in the works. But unfortunately for Agnes - and maybe fortunately for Wanda - she might have to take a raincheck on her duel of the sorceresses.  

Pietro could be a bit of a dipshit. Was he stupid? Not so much. He had brains where it counted. He could be crafty. Even sneaky. But his expert level slyness didn’t make him any less of an idiot. Pietro couldn’t refute that factoid about himself. Around Wanda, he forgot how to function like a normal person. Which he blamed on the fact that he wasn’t a normal person. Being brutally honest with himself; Pietro technically wasn’t even a person at all.

More like a conceptual incarnation of human sentience, really. Simple enough.

No ifs, ands, or buts about it, though - Pietro carried the irksome flaws of a human. Often, he acted thoughtless when he didn’t mean to. Without filtering himself first, Pietro unapologetically spoke his mind. He’d drop fourth-wall breaking quips here or there. Sometimes, his careless habits made for entertaining slip ups. Perfect for sitcom shenanigans. Other times, his blunders resulted in pain. Lotsa pain.

Halloween night, Pietro found himself whisked away by a forceful wave. Conjured by Wanda’s potent magic. The same power Agnes wanted her wiggly witch fingers on. After going aerial in a wild whoosh, Pietro got up close and friendly with some Halloween decorations. But, hey, what’re a few broken bones between pseudo siblings, eh?

Wanda sure had a helluva temper. She quickly banished Pietro from ever setting foot in her house again. Talk about a major bummer. Pietro suffered a huge loss on that front. One part because he’d have no choice but to crash with Agnes again. Ninety nine parts because he’d miss his troublemaking nephews. Those fun, lil scamps.

Tough luck, Quickie. Try and do better next time.

Honestly, he’d prefer if there wasn’t a next time.  If Agnes wanted to make small talk so bad, she could do it on her own. Calling it quits for the night, Pietro wandered off to a Westview bar. To his surprise, he found the place still in operation. And despite Pietro’s memories - vague imagery of Busch beer cans crushed under his fist - he hadn’t had a beer since his consciousness manifested. Shit. Did he even like beer? Whether he cared for it or not, a subconscious instinct drew him to it.

He assumed that instinct was none other than Ralph himself. The poor dude wanted to drown his terror in alcohol. And after all the twisted shit Agnes put Ralph through; who was Pietro to deny him one of life's simplest pleasures?

The mellow atmosphere of the bar oozed Halloween spirit. Kinda unnecessary, in retrospect. Considering Wanda never stopped by for a drink. Why bother sprucing the place up with her wispy magic, if it never saw any use?

The bartender’s clever quips reminded Pietro of Cheers. Another totally bonkers concept. Pietro had memories of watching Cheers, sure. But he couldn’t decipher if they were Ralph’s or not. For all Pietro knew, they might be a part of the ‘dead brother’ package deal. False memories, meant to give Wanda someone to relate to. Making him liable to tear down her defenses when she least expected it. 

But why did Pietro get the sense he was more of a Frasier guy anyway?

Sitting at the bar on a rickety stool, Pietro spun around to satiate his boredom. He cradled a beer, inhaling all of it in a single beat. Superspeed really did have its ups and downs. Consider quick consumption a positive. As far as negatives go…well…inebriation was completely unattainable. Sucks for Ralph. As Pietro flagged down the bartender for another beer, he tuned his ears to a radio broadcast. On a shelf amidst dollar store Halloween decor; a radio droned old fashioned tales of wicked witches. Subtle.

Outside interference interrupted the broadcast. Voices intermingled between buzzes of static. Whispering soft, but panicked mantras of 'Wanda? Wanda, are you there?' Pietro narrowed his beady eyes. His ignorance of the world outside Westview should’ve stayed intact. But whatever the reason, he knew exactly where those voices came from. Why he carried such knowledge was anyone’s guess. Maybe Agnes let too much her own insight slip into his psyche. Whoopsies. Oh well. Shrugging, Pietro flagged down the bartender for another beer. Deja vu.

Bored outta his mind, his thoughts explored elsewhere.

Pietro dreamt of something a little more down to earth. He remembered a cutie-pie neighbor new to Westview. A ‘next door’ kinda type, with a quirky sorta charm. They had no idea why they were in the city to begin with. Pietro knew these details, only because he gathered the what’s what on just about every person in town. It took him all of two seconds to do so. Zip around. Observe. Make mental notes. Report back to Agnes. Spill the deets.

Anyway, about you…

Call it a crush, loneliness, or even instinctive lust; whatever the case, Pietro thought you were cute as could be. You didn’t remember how you got to Westview, or where you even came from. One day, you woke up in town, and found yourself wearing unfamiliar clothes. Threads evocative of decades long past. But hey, it happens to the best of us. Pietro was well-acquainted with feelings of confusion and alienation. That mingled sense of being both lost, and born anew.

For crying out loud, he was the very materialization of sapient awareness itself. Agnes forbade him from that knowledge as well. But again, Pietro credited his oopsies and ding-dongs to her shoddy miracle work.

Whenever you questioned the reality around you, the world only stifled you into silence. The everyday citizens of Westview seemed so content with life as it was. Acting as if you had nothing to worry about. Wanda’s sitcom setup was nothing beyond sunshine, rainbows, and television tropes. But Pietro could see the unspoken terror hidden deep in their eyes. The truth Wanda kept hush hush.

Just thinking about it was enough to give Pietro the heebie jeebies. And if his intuition was anything to go by - it never proved him wrong yet - you had a bad feeling about Westview too. Way to go! You caught on even quicker than he did. Which was kinda nuts, if he thought about it. Wasn’t he supposed to be the fastest at everything? ‘Cuz speed was his middle name or something. Or…well, it wasn’t. But it could be. Who’s to stop him from seizing his own destiny at this point?

Pietro Speed Maximoff.

Eh, maybe not.

In Westview, you had no friends or family. And much like Pietro, on Halloween night; you found yourself at the bar. He caught your curious gaze from down the counter. You were dolled up in a scanty, witch's dress, leaving Pietro to wonder why witches were such a recurring theme in his life. Looking too much like a manchild goober, he spun around a few more times in his seat. His sneakers kicked against the stool’s railing. No matter what, he couldn’t sit still. He thought he might be embarrassing himself. But his antics appeared to make you smile even brighter.

Tilting your head, you shot him a look of familiarity.

You weren’t familiar with him, though. But there was a chance you saw him appearing and disappearing around town. During his impromptu stake outs, more than likely.

Bringing your drink to the seam of your lips, you stifled a playful giggle. It was obvious you were gawking at his costume. Arching a brow, Pietro grinned into the rim of his beer bottle. To be fair, he looked supremely ridiculous. The blue tights under his cut-off jean shorts rode up in the crotch a little too much. He dipped his head, staring at the frayed edges of his shorts. Yeah. It was clear he did the job cutting them himself. A hasty one too. Since he was too eager to pull pranks with his nephews.

Damn. Pietro missed those kids like hell already.

The dirty blond hair/ear-things atop his head bounced every time he knocked his neck back. As Pietro downed yet another beer, he lost track of how many he drank. A dribble of it plummeted into silver. Creating a sheen against the lightning bolt duct taped diagonally down his shirt. Pietro sighed and pursed his lips. 

His outfit was an all blue ensemble. Garnished with a spritz of silver here or there. Quicksilver. His hero name, apparently. Pietro knew he’d never live up to it.

A bit of friendly conversation later, and the air between the two of you shifted. Your playful look morphed into something a little wanton, the more Pietro acted in silly ways. Holy shit. Seriously? He hoped he wasn't misreading your signals. Because really, your attraction was too good to be true. If you honestly wanted him, where should he proceed from here? How much freedom had Agnes even allowed him? And furthermore - if Wanda’s happy, dream town ran on a curated schedule; what if credits rolled just as the two of you finally got handsy?

Maybe sitcom rules didn’t apply to conscious manifestations of witch hocus pocus? Wishful thinking on his part.

Outside the bar - in an alleyway too uncannily clean, like a set straight out of Hollywood - Pietro beckoned you in with kisses. Technically, he played the role of Agnes’s deadbeat husband. And if that were the case, did kissing you count as cheating? Shit…was Pietro committing adultery right now?? In the midst of macking on your sweet lips, he pressed a palm to the wall next to your head. Pietro pretended to do so for balance, as he devoured you with his mouth and tongue. 

But unbeknownst to you, he cracked an eye open. Just to double check for a wedding band.

Nothing there to prove he ever got hitched. Go figure.

You giggled coyly into his lips, letting a soft moan ease through your teeth. Bringing your hands up to the hair/ear-things on his head, you toyed with them. Your pretty voice teased him, as you played with his hair in gentle strokes of your thumbs.

“Ooooh…such a good boy, huh? Fast too.” You cooed, the same way one might praise a puppy.

Oh. Fuck yeah. To hell with sitcom tropes and bogus wives. Agnes scared the ever-loving shit out of Pietro anyway. He had no semblance of a domestic connection to her. Not that she gave much of a damn herself. With how often she threw insults his way. Agnes always used Ralph as her little punching bag, before hijacking his body for her own gain.

No wonder your simple praises got his proverbial tail wagging.

A chuckle hummed in the back of his throat, as Pietro purred into your lips, “Speed’s kinda my middle name, y’know?”

You snorted one of the dorkiest laughs he’d heard since cognisant birth. And with a sudden spark of primal urgency; Pietro felt something else spring into transcendence down below. 

Sifting through Ralph’s sidelined psyche, Pietro came to realize how much of a recluse he was. The guy never seemed to get out much. In fact, Agnes might’ve even been his first partner. If one could classify her as such. So, really, Pietro was doing him a major favor. If Ralph knew he planned on using their body for some frisky fun - on an otherwise lonely Hallow’s eve - surely, he’d give his brain roomie some thanks.

Pietro’s hands were vascular like a wired-up machine, clad in arm-warmer paws. Grabbing hard onto your curvy hips with them, he pulled you in closer. He sought the friction of your crotch against his. And after some seriously sloppy making out, Pietro dropped you an invite to his place.

Or…Agnes’s place.

Uh…or…was it technically Ralph’s? Shit, this sitcom roleplay sure gave way to some mental gymnastics.

You didn’t expect Pietro to zip you off at superspeed. Moving abruptly fast, he brought you straight to his disaster of a man cave. Laying you back on the futon, he gave you little time to adjust over the blankets. The wrinkled fabrics reeked of pot, in desperate need of a wash. You got as comfy as you could on the skunky sheets. Blinking your needy gaze up at him, you tugged his white belt, pulling the band undone. Pietro grinned lazily, colliding his swollen lips into yours. His primal instincts left him wreckless with want. 

Burying his tongue in the cavern of your mouth, he brought with him the flavor of cheap booze. As you tasted him, you moaned, shucking his dumb jorts down his hips. A sizable swelling twitched in his tights, squirming under muted blue. Your eyes bulged in their sockets, cartoonishly wide. The way you whirled your tongue across your lip gave off a vibe of animalistic hunger. As though you were eager for an all dick dinner. With Pietro as the appetizer.

And the main course. And the dessert. He hoped you'd rate him five stars.

Restaurant metaphors aside; this was the very first test of his capabilities as a lover, after all. If he couldn’t live up to his superhero name, maybe he could make a name for himself in other ways.

Pietro Speed Maximoff. Quicksilver. Cunning Linguist.

But first…he really should satiate your hunger.

One, generous tug downward, and Pietro’s - or Ralph’s - slightly above average length sprang out. Bouncing in your face in mesmerizing oscillation, his cock appeared pulsating and roused. Thick veins weaved like threads through his shaft, akin to his vascular hands. His balls bulged in his tights, his jorts hanging halfway down his thighs. Pietro took his blistering cock in hand. Aching for the kind of stimulation Ralph never got, his desire painted him so flush and ruby red. 

Since you looked so delighted at the sight before you; Pietro gave his cock a few strokes. He played with himself for your viewing pleasure. And as his firm grip tugged his shaft, the world pulled suddenly back. It was as though Pietro viewed life through a third person perspective. Metaphorical cameras fixed their lenses on the two of you, in an all too human position of closeness. 

The weight of a cock in Pietro’s hand felt both familiar, yet weirdly foreign. Combine that with the sight of another living, breathing body below him; and his nerves buzzed uncomfortably. Frenzied in such a way that matched the quick pulsing of his heart. Focusing instead on your fluttering eyes, Pietro weaned himself out of dissociation. Your hands braced his hips, thumbs circling the fabric of his tights. The gentle gesture brought chills throughout his body. Inching forward, you teased his bobbing cock with a flick of your tongue.

Wet heat grounded him in reality. Upon racing to the forefront of his own mind; Pietro’s breath hitched with a husky groan. He held your head, massaging his fingers in your soft hair. Cute mewls spilled from your lips as you flitted your eyes shut. Swirling your tongue over his cock’s puffy head, you lapped any tearful pearls of precum. His thickness sank between your plush lips, and Pietro’s own lips parted for breath.

Of all things to happen on Halloween night, getting his dick sucked wasn’t on the docket.

Not that Pietro had any reason to complain. This? Wicked awesome. Ralph was really missing out.

You drew lazily back just to lap his balls over his tights, staining fabric with slick saliva. Rolling the tip of your tongue up the underside of his dick, you giggled in that dorkish way again. Pietro’s teeth pulled his lip as he tilted his head back. His dick twitched, throbbing while the heat of your mouth embraced him fully. He moaned, smiling wide enough to show off his dimples. You pumped his cock at the base, teasing his veins with your tongue.

Pietro’s brows turned inward. You suckled his head like you longed to guzzle anything he could give. He sank his fingers deeper through your hair, holding on tightly as he rutted his hips. With each slam of his weeping tip into your throat; he hoarsely grunted. You really did try your best, just for him. Even as tears spilled down your cheeks and your lips began to swell. Plush and puffy, circling his slick length. Pietro kicked up the speed at which he rutted.

Fighting his instincts, he was cautious enough not to choke you. Or, he wanted to be cautious. He braced his hands on both sides of your tear stained face, his arm warmer paws soft against your cheeks. Sinking his dick even deeper between your lips, he accidentally went balls deep. The wet fabric of his tights smothered your chin. You sputtered on his cock, which made your throat wring him so tight. As your tongue curled, sliding under the thrum of his veins; Pietro cursed. Playful chuckles and shameful apologies fell from his lips.

Bitter heat coated your tongue in sweltering jets, thick and explosive down your throat. Pietro’s groin twisted in a blossoming surge of pleasure. And as he ruptured your esophagus with his sticky load, he found himself that much more grounded. As if such a bombastic nut somehow tethered him to reality - securing Pietro from any further derealization. 

Righteous. His first big O since Agnes blessed him with the gift of consciousness. Significantly more electrifying than any sad, jerk sesh Ralph had in the past. And since you so humbly took him like a champ - giving Pietro a most euphoric experience; he saw it fit to return the favor ASAP.

Neither Pietro - nor Ralph, it seemed - had any experience toying around with partners. But he did have a vague knowledge of how to do so. Thanks to the backlog of not-so-safe-for-work memories deep in his subconscious. Raunchy porn, mostly. Magazines. Tapes. Jesus, Ralph…why’s there so much dirty stuff in there, huh? Lots and lots of it. Pietro would have to do his own research later.

He gave you no time to prep for his oncoming nose dive. Perched on your knees, coughing and clearing your throat - you found yourself abruptly resting on your elbows. Your upper back pressed into the futon. Pietro lifted your hips, using his strength to hike your thighs over his broad shoulders. As you parted your swollen lips to protest, blinking your reddened eyes; Pietro pulled your panties to the side. He kept the soaked lace pinned under a thick thumb. Burying his lips in your cunt, he lapped up your honeyed heat.

A sudden addiction, triggered by something carnal, overtook him instantly. Pietro became hooked on your fragrant flavor, swirling your cute bud in high-speed circles. He worked your stiff clit like a microscopic joystick, flicking wet heat in a spastic whirlwind. Alternating between drawing patterns, and sucking your precious pearl hard. Pietro so easily made you squeal - even without any prior experience - until you scratched your fingernails deep into Ralph’s sheets. Kissing your cunt, he let his thirst take over, and dove deeper.

The tune of his name melting through your moans made him wish the night would last forever. A small fraction of him hoped Ralph would never take over again. If consciousness offered rewards this scrumptious, Pietro wanted to stay sentient into eternity. Not to be selfish or whatever, but he almost considered playing minion for Agnes again - if only to secure the lifespan of his psyche.

Your supple, pussy lips parted as he wormed his tongue through your slick walls. Smooth, bumpy heat squeezed the fuzzy ridges of his tongue. In milliseconds, your fluttery love gushed over his taste buds and leaked down his chin. Tears teased the edges of your eyes. You cried whines of sugary bliss. Pietro’s thumb kept your panties pinned, his other hand locked around your thigh.

He smirked into your pussy, deep chuckles burning hot on your mound. And since the position wasn’t exactly the most comfortable; he allowed you some reprieve. Pushing you past your breaking point at light speed, Pietro bashed the sopping slickness of his tongue into your clit. You trembled, shuddering through powerful waves of orgasmic intensity. White-hot flashes of light flooded your vision. Under Pietro’s zippy tongue, your sweet pussy quivered.

Totes mcgoats. If he learned anything tonight - aside from the obvious lessons in subtlety; Pietro now understood why the everyday man lost his doggone marbles over puss.

After your first release, he eased your tired body into the futon. Your back met cozy blankets, engulfed in that skunk weed scent. Before you relaxed, he edged you even longer, drawing out your pleasurable suffering. Pietro sank his fingers deep into your heat, pumping the length of them inside you. His digits curled perfectly, finding every spongy spot that made your core burst with a desire to cum again. His tongue teased your swollen nub until you grabbed at his hair. You mussed the funny looking ear things atop his head, pressing your palm into his forehead to try and push him back.

You begged him to stop. Pleading in disoriented whimpers, your noises went straight to his limp dick. A few more hot, wrathful waves of pleasure later - he finally stopped. Only after your cunt erupted in one more, wet burst. You leaked like a fountain into his lips, soaking his chin, even making a mess of his makeshift costume. More than worth it. Pietro sat up on the futon, admiring his handiwork. He wiped his mouth with one of his arm warmer paws. Your mouth fell agape as your lungs begged for air. More tears sparkled on your flushed cheeks, mirroring the twinkle of your pussy. Pretty as a rose in a rainshower.

With your sluggish arms, you gestured for Pietro to climb over you. And once he did, you pulled him into a lazy kiss without a single care. You paid no mind to the taste of your sweetness on his lips, or the scent of your musk on his chin. Sleepily blinking, you bravely asked if you could stay the night. Too tuckered out to even consider a long walk back home.

Pietro could just as easily speed you over to your place. But even at the risk of his not-wife catching him in bed with someone else - he felt too adverse to loneliness. Besides...your company brought him more delight than he ever expected of anyone. Settling into the futon, he popped on Ralph’s old TV set.

Cheers was on. Pietro snickered to himself, rolling his dark eyes.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, snuggled up against Pietro’s strong form. He’d changed clothes at some point in the night, finally foregoing the tights. Oh, and he lended you one of Ralph’s shirts too. A Grateful Dead t-shirt, of which you were very grateful. Hah, “You don’t like Cheers?”

Pietro shrugged, sipping a beer. A Busch beer. He scowled at the taste, curling his lip.

“Eh. More of a Frasier kinda guy.”

[estrellami-1]

If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33

Steve isn’t sure what he expects after his admission, but it’s not for Eddie to completely shut down.

“I can’t be your experiment, Harrington,” Eddie says seriously. “Pick some other schmuck with no self-respect. I can’t do it. I won’t.”

All Steve can do is stare, open-mouthed. Eddie must take that as confirmation, because he nods once, mouth a thin line, and turns to leave.

Finally Steve is able to move. “Eddie, wait,” he implores, hand stretching out and brushing Eddie’s knuckles, reminiscent of the night on his roof. Was that really just last night?

He’s going to say more, as soon as the world stops spinning, but just then gym must finish because guys come pouring in.

Eddie shakes him off and disappears into the crowd.

Steve spends the rest of the day adrift. Robin catches his eye in the hallway, but he shakes his head. He knows if he talks about it now, he won’t be able to finish the school day.

Finally the last bell rings and Steve practically drags Robin to the car. Without asking, he drives to Lover’s Lake and sits on the edge. He vaguely thinks about the oddness of it all: in three years, or about two weeks ago, there’s a gate at the bottom of the lake. For now, it’s placid, makes his fingers itch for a skipping stone.

Robin sits next to him. Somehow knows he needs the silence. He is—not for the first and certainly not for the last time—suddenly hit with how grateful he is that she’s his friend.

He swallows. Drags his fingers along the ground, feels the pebbles shift in response. Says, “I kissed Eddie.”

Robin stays silent, but knocks their shoulders together.

“I guess technically we kissed each other? We’d been flirting, and joking around, and… my lip had been bleeding, right, so he asks if I need him to kiss it better. I say yes, and we kiss, and it’s…” he swallows, leans over until his head is on her shoulder. “It was so nice,” he whispers. “I really like him, Robs. Really. And we talk about it and I mention how he’s the first guy I’ve kissed, and he gets weird about it and says he can’t be the guy I use to experiment on. But I wouldn’t- I wouldn’t do that, Robbie. I really like him.” He sighs, tucks his forehead into her neck. “I should’ve said something, but I didn’t, and then it was too late because everyone was coming in from gym, and… he left. And I didn’t have another class with him and I think he’s been avoiding me, which makes sense, but I hate it, Robs, how could I have him and lose him in the same moment?”

Robin hugs him tightly. “Want me to go yell at him again? It worked the first time.”

He manages a chuckle. “Maybe. I dunno.”

Robin snickers. “Plausible deniability.”

He laughs and pushes her away. “Don’t make it sound like you’re gonna murder him, Robbie, I want him back, not dead.”

Robin just shrugs, a mysterious smile playing on her lips. “Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.”

He stares for a second before tackling her in another hug. “God, I love you.”

She shrieks as he knocks her over, but wraps her arms around him with a laugh. “Love you too, dingus. Now let’s go, you need to drop me off so I can go yell at your boyfriend.”

Steve snickers and moves off of her, offering her a hand up before they walk back to the car together.

He drops her off and walks inside his house, sighing as he drops his backpack just inside the entryway.

He collapses on the couch and shuts his eyes. He’d forgotten just how tiring school is.

He wakes up a few hours later when Allison opens the door, returning from work. She grins at him. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she teases.

He groans and wipes a hand down his face. “Hey.”

She frowns and pads over to the couch, nudging his legs to make room for her to sit. “What happened?”

It’s not really a question. He tells her everything, and she narrows her eyes. “I’m opening the door when he gets here.” She raises a significant eyebrow. “When,” she repeats. “Not if. First of all because I may not know Robin super well, but I feel like I know her well enough to know she’s absolutely terrifying when she wants to be. And second because I saw the way you look at each other.” She smiles. “You more so than him, but that’s just because you’ve known him longer. And you look at him the way Cassidy and I look at each other. And he’s almost there.”

She pulls him into a hug. “He’s a runner, bubba. That’s something he learned. Give him time to learn it’s safe to stay.”

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[fyeah7kpp]

Hello, friends!

I hope everyone has enjoyed the early access to 7KPP! Now that we've had a few months to play around and try out many MANY branches in the game (and Mod Tina has had some time to recover from finishing her graduate degree), it's time for 7KPP Week!

As a reminder, and for any newcomers to the fandom, 7KPP Week is basically a week of short prompts that we the mods come up with, intended as an opportunity to inspire and share fanworks that showcase our love for the game. Any types of fanworks are welcome, from fanart or fanfiction to meta, playlists, or just long rambles about your thoughts! We're all just here to spread our love and positivity!

Note: As the game has been out for several months now, spoiler content is perfectly welcome, and indeed encouraged in some of the prompts, and some prompts may include spoilers! Please be aware if you wish to participate or spectate!

So, without further ado, the details!

When: Between October 20 and October 26! Where: Post on tumblr (and elsewhere is fine too but we’ll be organizing here on tumblr)

The prompts are as follows! (Since some of these are rather vague, there are some more details and some questions that might help inspire you under the cut!)

Day One - Background (Remix) Day Two - Date Night Day Three - Letters Day Four - Angst Week (Turnabout) Day Five - Secrets Day Six - Suitcase Day Seven - Epilogue

Feel free to use the tag “7KPP Week 2024“ and/or mention this blog, and we’ll do our best to reblog everything!

As always, please feel free to send an ask/DM me if you have any questions! We look forward to seeing everyone’s submissions, and hope that you have a great autumn!

-Mod Tina

Day 1 - Background (Remix)

What is your character's background and why did you pick it? How do they feel about it? If you've talked about this before, you can instead consider the following: Have you considered using an existing MC for one of the secret backgrounds? Is there another background you think might be interesting for your MC? Elements of another background you could incorporate into them for an AU?

Day 2 - Date Night

If your MC had a friendship date (or a real one), what would it be? How would it play out? Who would they invite? What stat(s) would it raise? What would the achievement for success be named?

Day Three - Letters

Over the course of the game, we received letters written from loved ones of both our characters and our LIs. Who would send the LI a letter on behalf of your MC? What would it say?

Day Four - Angst Week (Turnabout)

Let's share in the angst of week 5! If your LI had a near-death experience during the courting phase, how would your MC react? Alternatively, did your MC ever consider breaking things off? If so, why?

Day Five - Secrets

If your MC had a discoverable secret at the Summit for other characters to find, what would it be? Would it be a chain? Something that is needed to get to know them? Is it blackmail material?

Day Six - Suitcase

Does your MC bring any non-essentials with them to the Summit? What do they take home with them afterwards?

Day Seven - Epilogue

We got glimpses of what the ending looked like for your character post-Summit. Are there any other scenes you have in your mind's eye? Anything that you would change? What does life look like for your characters after the end?

[madneedshelp]

Always Choose You - Eddie Roundtree x Female Reader

Summary: You and Eddie were never meant to be more than a fling. So, why did you both keep coming back?

Includes: implied sex, alcohol and drug use, adult language

Note: The bolded names followed by a colon represent interview dialogue like from in the book.

The first time you met Eddie was at some gig he played with The Six. It was before Look At Us Now had blown up and they’d flown to stardom. No, you met him back in the days of small clubs on the Strip.

The band had just finished playing, you’d had a few drinks (and therefore some liquid courage in your blood), and you went for it. As soon as the cute bassist headed to the bar himself, you sauntered over.

“You were great up there. I’ve always wanted to play music like that.” You smiled and slid into the seat next to him.

He returned your grin and took a sip of his drink. “Ah thanks, we’ve been at it for a while now. I’m Eddie, by the way.” 

“Pleasure to meet you, Eddie. I’m Y/N. Have you all been in town long, I can’t say I’ve seen you play before.”

He shook his head. “We’re from Pittsburgh. Kind of took a leap of faith coming down here, but I think we’re all happy we did it.” 

You noticed as he glanced quickly over at the side of the bar. The singer of his band was talking with a beautiful brunette, but you could tell he was more focused on the girl than his friend. He looked back to you after almost a split second though, and you were almost convinced you made it up.

“Well, cheers to your success, I’m glad it’s working out for you guys.” You chuckled and clinked your glass with his.

You and Eddie flirted a bit more, drank a bit more, and at the end of the night he climbed into a taxi with you. Your roommate was out for the weekend, so you had an empty apartment and a hot guy at the ready. A nice one night stand could be just what you needed.  

————————

It never occurred to you that you’d see him again. Hell, you’d practically forgotten him after all that time had passed. Not that the two of you didn’t have a great night together, you were just both a little drunk and it was just once, so it never really crossed your mind. 

But then here you were, at a party for your roommate’s friend. She hadn’t told you much detail about the party, just that her friend Camila was hosting a housewarming party of sorts and she wanted you to come along as her guest. It gave you an excuse to get dressed up and it sounded fun, so you agreed without much thought. 

Your roommate, Sarah, introduced you to Camila and her husband Billy when you first arrived. Something seemed vaguely familiar about them, but you figured it was just because Billy’s band was famous and there was buzz about them everywhere. Still, you felt like maybe there was something else about them. As Camila and Sarah got caught up in conversation, you politely excused yourself to go grab a drink.

The house was full of people and you felt slightly like you were in a maze. Luckily, you wove your way to the bar area and were able to acquire a beer. 

You decided the next stop should be the patio out back. It was getting a little stuffy and some fresh air sounded perfect. You were on your way to the back door when someone stumbled into you from behind.

“Oh shit, my bad.” The man said immediately.

You turned and gave him a small smile. “It’s all good, no worries.” 

“Jesus Warren, I leave you alone for like five minutes and you’re already stumbling around aimlessly,” a familiar voice chuckled as another man strolled up beside him. 

Holy fuck. As you glanced over at his friend, you realized you knew this guy. This was that bar guy from God knows how long ago. 

It looked like said guy was having the same realization, or at least some kind of epiphany. His eyes narrowed slightly as he turned to really look at you.

“I think I know you from somewhere.” He muttered.

Eddie: Okay, I know it sounds bad, but I promise I didn’t forget about her. It had been a long time. Besides, apparently she couldn’t even remember my name, so we were both a little drunk that night.

Warren: I was high as shit, and I could definitely tell he didn’t recognize her. It’s funny to think about that now, God I can’t even imagine.

His friend-Warren- elbowed him with a laugh. “You can’t pick up chicks with that cheesy ass line, brother. No one is gonna fall for that shit.” 

You kind of wished you had some of whatever this guy was on because he was clearly high as a kite and having a grand old time. 

“Oh, I don’t know.” You let out a quiet, nervous laugh. You weren’t about to explain that you two had fucked and never spoken again once like a year or so ago.

“No, we have met before…” He trailed off in thought, but then his eyebrows shot up as it clicked. “Did you hang around the Sunset Strip by any chance?”

You downed what was left of your drink and nodded. “Yeah, I used to. I think you’ve put that together, though. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to grab another of these.” You held up the empty bottle and spun on your heel. 

Thankfully, the house had several exits, so you were able to grab your beer and slip out back unnoticed. Well, at least you thought you were. 

“Hey, can I talk to you?”

Bar guy came up beside you and gestured to the empty seat beside you. You felt like shit for this, but you couldn’t remember his name. Fred, maybe? God, you didn’t sleep around that much, you should be able to keep track of this. 

“Sure,” You shrugged. You do remember him being a nice guy, so you weren’t opposed to hearing him out. 

He hesitantly sat down. “Listen, I feel like I should apologize. I’m sorry it took me a minute to recognize you, and…well, I’m sorry I kind of disappeared from your place right after we…” His voice started trailing off when you started chuckling. “What’s funny?”

You felt your face flush and you waved a hand. “No, no, it’s not you, I promise. You really don’t have to apologize for anything, that’s why I was laughing. We slept together after I met you at a bar, I didn’t exactly expect us to grow old together.”

He was chuckling now too. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. I just didn’t want you to think I was an ass or something. Can we start over?”

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.” You smiled and held out your hand for him to shake. 

“Eddie, and likewise.” 

Eddie! So you were kind of close earlier. Truth be told though, this was one of the weirdest encounters with a hookup that you’d ever had. Normally, you wouldn’t dream of interacting with someone afterwards, but something about this guy was different. You kind of liked talking to him, and you remember feeling like that the first time you met him too. 

———————— 

You woke up in a room that was definitely not yours, which caused a little bolt of panic to shoot through you. It only took a second for it to all come flooding, thankfully. 

Somehow, you had decided it was a good idea to go home with Eddie last night. Again. That definitely was not in your plan. You weren’t in the habit of dragging out one night stands, but it looks like you had a repeat. You two wound up hanging out for most of the party last night, and you were talking, then you were kissing, and now you were here. But God, was he a good repeat. To be honest, when you snuck a glance down at his sleeping face beside you, all you could think about was that he was kind of beautiful. 

A knocking came from the door and it nearly startled you out of bed. 

“Eddie! We gotta leave for the studio, man! Billy wants us there in an hour!” 

You looked down and realized you were bare ass naked, and immediately lunged for your clothes. You weren’t sure if Eddie’s roommate would just barge in, but you were not about to be caught naked if he did. Immediate relief flooded through you as you pulled on your dress and heard footsteps as the guy walked away from the door, but you were mostly amazed by the fact that none of this had actually woken Eddie. 

This was actually kind of worse. Now you had to make a choice. Did you leave unnoticed or did you wake him up and face the morning after conversation. You really didn’t want to talk. You hooked up once and then again, it was a weird string of events that you couldn’t hash out right now. Unfortunately, he showed no signs of waking up and you’d feel really bad if he was late to his band thing. 

With a sigh you stepped over to the bed and shook his shoulder gently. Then you shook it a little less gently. This man could sleep through a fucking tornado. 

Finally, he sat up and rubbed his face. “Hmm? Oh, mornin’...”

You quickly wiped off the tiny smile that threatened to overtake your face. Thinking he looked cute, all sleepy in the morning, was not a road you needed to go down. “Hey, your friend just knocked and said Billy wants you at the studio in an hour. You seemed pretty out of it, so I just wanted to let you know before I left.”

He muttered something about “he’s such an asshole” under his breath before looking back up at you. “Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, no problem,” You nodded as nonchalantly as possible. “Well, I’m going to head out now. Um, thanks…for last night.”

The second the words left your mouth, you knew how stupid it all sounded. You used to be pretty smooth, but apparently that was temporary. You had to get out of there before you made it worse. You grabbed your purse and strode hurriedly for the door, but before you were outside, Eddie shouted. 

“Hey, wait!”

You looked back over your shoulder at him as he pulled on a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and started over to you. “Yeah?”

“Listen, um, I had fun last night. And I like you.” He combed a hand through his wild hair.

He looked like he wanted to keep going, but you cut him off first. “I’m not really looking for a relationship.” You blurted the words before you could think, and they left a curiously bitter taste in your mouth.

He looked mildly surprised at the outburst, but then shook his head. “I’m not either, actually. Honestly, I’m kind of getting over someone else right now. Stop me if I’m out of line here, but I was wondering if you might want to do this again sometime. All I’m saying is I had fun, and if you had fun too, then could I get your number? I promise I’m not proposing we grow old together here.” 

You chuckled at his reference to your conversation last night. You had to agree with him. Last night was good, and the thought of seeing him again was something you didn’t hate. 

Y/N: I can’t believe I’m actually admitting to this, but yes he became my, oh what is it people say now? My sneaky link? Friends with benefits? Whatever, the point is we kept seeing each other. Just having fun. We were in our 20s and carefree, you know?

————————

You and Eddie kept things casual for a long time. He grew to be one of your closest friends during that time. Yes, it was mainly about the sex for the two of you, but you actually got to know each other well. 

Eddie knew things about you that not even your roommate Sarah did. One night he opened up to you about Camila, about how he’d been in love with her for years and that was why he wasn’t looking for something serious. He seemed really vulnerable about it, and you decided to tell him about your cheating ex and why you didn’t want to date either. The two of you formed an odd sort of bond over that, over loving people that had chosen someone else. 

Eddie: If I’m being honest, I was lying when I told her about Camila. I told her I was still in love with her, but I hadn’t been for a while. I was just too afraid to admit that maybe I moved on. 

Y/N: I was done with it just being a fling at that point. Sure, I was still hurt by what happened, but I think Eddie helped heal that untrusting part of me. I felt ready for a relationship, but I didn’t know where he stood on the matter. I didn’t fess up because it almost felt better to have him in that way, than to not have him in my life anymore.

Karen: They were so obviously in love with each other, I’ll never know how they couldn’t see it in each other. The rest of us definitely could. 

Graham: Y/N and Eddie? Yeah, I think the rest of us knew about them before they knew themselves. It was annoying as hell to live with them, I mean especially sharing a wall with Eddie. Warren and I took bets on how long it would take them to actually figure out their shit, and that son of a bitch beat me. 

You and Eddie were lovers for almost a year. 

Everything changed on a night that seemed so typical. Eddie had showed up at your place, absolutely livid.

“He cut my fucking part from the song! He’s such a fucking asshole!” Eddie slammed the door behind him and flung his coat over the back of the kitchen chair.

You put your book down and hopped up from the couch. “Again? Shit, Eddie, I hate that he keeps doing that to you.” The moment you placed a calming hand to his chest and leaned against his shoulder, you felt him relax beneath your touch. 

He sighed and wrapped his arms around you. “I’m sorry I keep showing up here like this. I just get so pissed at him, and it’s like the only place I can think of to go is here.”

“Yeah?” You laughed softly.

He was quiet for a moment. “Yeah,” he said with such finality that you could feel a shift in the room. 

The way he was looking at you…like you were something special. Like you were something valuable. 

“And why is that, Ed? Why here?” You whispered.

In answer, he leaned down and kissed you. You too had kissed obviously, but this one felt like it meant something different. “Y/N, I’m so fucking in love with you that it’s all I can think about. Even when I’m not thinking about you, I still am. I was so mad at Billy and had to get out of there, and somehow I drove here without even thinking about it. So, yeah, I’m in love with you. I know that wasn’t in the agreement, but I can’t keep going and not tell you this once.”

You could tell he was going to keep rambling, so you decided to muster up the courage and do what you were dying to do. “Eddie!” He stopped and looked at you, visibly anxious. “Eddie, I love you too. I have for so long, and screw the agreement. I want to be with you.”

Eddie’s face lit up and he kissed you again. And again. And then he stopped to why the tears off your cheeks, which you assured him were happy tears. 

“God, I should’ve told you sooner.” You chuckled and leaned your head against his chest. 

He wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head. “Warren would definitely call you a chicken right now, but I wouldn’t stoop that low.”

Even though he couldn’t see it, you rolled your eyes. “You know, I feel like you kind of did by mentioning it, but I’ll let it slide. Besides, I still thought you had feelings for Camila. I didn’t really think it would ever be me.”

Eddie pulled away slightly so he could look you in the eye. “You know I would always choose you, right? You’re it for me, baby. If you’ll have me, anyways.”

“Always, Eddie, always.” 

Y/N Roundtree: We got married like six months after that. 

Eddie: I would’ve married her that night, to be honest.

[rinixo]

ashamed

Din Djarin/Reader | 5.9k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, PIV sex, emotional hurt/comfort, angst, oral sex, reader is blindfolded, vague breeding kink, themes of religious doubt re: the creed

'I have always felt ashamed at being witnessed in the act of wanting something I could not have.' - Jennifer S. Cheng

Part 2 to Someday

a/n: wanted to play around with the ‘struggling between your faith and your lust’ trope with Din and Reader. All the mythology/constellation stuff I made up.

read on ao3

“See that star there? It’s called Tasale, in basic. It makes up the heart of the constellation Thaiell.”

Grogu looked up to where you were pointing. The two of you were crouched on the ground under the dark sky, your backs to the small campfire set up just a short distance away. Din was sitting near the flames, poking at it now and again as he listened to you talk about constellations with his kid.

The three of you had settled in for the evening after finishing a short scouting mission. After supper, you had noticed Grogu’s gaze following sparks from the fire floating up into the night and had started pointing out different astronomical bodies to the curious child. You had even pulled out a small telescope and set it up low enough for Grogu to peer through the viewfinder.

“Thaiell is a figure in ancient Naboo mythology,” you explained as Grogu made a small squeak of acknowledgment. “There are tales of when she was a young mortal priestess. She fell in love with a knight after he rescued her from a terrible monster that was attacking her temple.” You moved the telescope slightly to focus elsewhere.

“You can’t see it from where we are here, but on Naboo, I’d be able to show you the full constellation,” you continued. “The most famous tale talks about how she gave up her life at the temple to travel with her beloved, only to die tragically,” Grogu whined at your retelling, and you patted his back gently. “I know, it’s sad. But she’s always been my favorite constellation.”

“Why is it your favorite?” Din asked from where he sat behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you shot him a small smile.

“It’s a little embarrassing,” you laughed. “You see, Tasale is two stars - a binary system People say that they represent the heart of Thaiell and the heart of her beloved, eternally rotating aside one another. I guess I just think it’s romantic.”

“Patu,” Grogu tapped your knee, drawing your attention back to him. You shrugged at Din, smiling shyly from your confession, and went back to showing the child the stars.

Less than an hour later, Grogu had his fill of stargazing and had fallen asleep in your lap, snuggled against your stomach. You had moved back towards the fire as he dozed off, and sat opposite Din, watching the way the flames reflected an orange glow in his armor.

It had been a few weeks since you had left the small forested planet where you had met Tineke and Galina, and not once had either you or Din mentioned the intimate evening you had shared. You had woken up alone, wrapped up in the sheets, wondering if it had just been a pleasurable dream. The soreness between your thighs and in your jaw had proven that it had not been. You had met up with Din and a still-sleeping Grogu and journeyed back to the Crest in the misty pre-dawn light, and after punching in some coordinates it had been business as usual.

The two of you had skirted around any topics relating to that night and any hint of attraction you harbored for each other. The long silences in the cockpit had an air of tension in them - feelings said and unsaid.

At one point, you had gathered enough bravery to approach him one late-night cycle. You met him in the galley as he was tidying something up, placing a hand softly on his vambrace. He had paused, and gently pulled away from you, and you had left it at that.

“He liked looking at the stars,” Din said quietly, breaking you out of your thoughts. You looked down at Grogu’s sleeping face, the shadow of a smile on your lips.

“He did,” you agreed. “He certainly is becoming more and more Mandalorian.” You had heard Din explaining the tenets of the creed to his foundling on several occasions, imparting the knowledge he’d need to know to make his way in the galaxy. To his credit, and belying his young age, Grogu paid apt attention to his father’s teachings about navigating and traveling. Your expertise may be more theoretical than Din’s, but if what you could share with him was useful, you were happy to do so.

“I’m glad he is taking an interest in learning,” Din commented. “It’s…not an easy life.”

“So you’ve said,” you replied softly. “But Grogu has chosen a good role model, I think.”

“Have you met other Mandalorians?” Din queried, and you laughed.

“No,” you conceded. “But if they’re even half as impressive as you, then…” you trailed off, suddenly feeling shy. Across from you, Din had stilled in his prodding of the coals. The flames had died down, the fire barely more than embers at this point.

You had just been about to compliment Din, but after his silence and non-acknowledgment of your feelings from weeks ago, you stopped yourself. If your relationship was never going to progress any further, then perhaps it was best to stifle those feelings to save yourself from further heartbreak.

“You should sleep,” Din said lowly. “We’ll be off as soon as dawn arrives.”

Swallowing roughly, you nodded. Rising, still clutching Grogu to your chest, you returned to your bunk on the Crest. Deciding to snuggle with the sleeping baby rather than place him back in his cradle, you drifted off to sleep, finding comfort in the soft breaths of the tiny being in your arms.

—

Din waited a while before returning to the ship himself, wanting to wait enough time for you to fall asleep. He watched the coals die through his visor, musing on your short conversation.

The enormity of his desire for you frightened him. He could still remember how it felt to hold your soft body against his armored one like it was just moments ago. He desperately wished that he could feel you with more than just his bare hands, struggling between his dedication to his creed and his hunger for you. He felt a tinge of shame of how he had palmed himself to several releases over the past couple of weeks, remembering the heat of your mouth on him and the clutch of you on his fingers.

He thought back to his earlier promise - someday - and felt a twinge of regret. How could he promise something he wasn’t sure he could give? He had never struggled to keep to his code until he met you. Something about you stirred feelings in him he didn’t think he could have. If it was just lust, that one time would have satisfied it. No matter how much he tried, however, he could not get you out of his head.

Dropping sand over the coals, he sighed and returned up to the ship. He should have just gone to his bed, but he was pulled yet again to where you were. Your soft breathing indicated that you were out. He watched your sleeping form, curled protectively around his child, and something in him shifted.

Maybe there was a way to satisfy his need for you while adhering to the creed. Knowing he was not going to be able to sleep before parsing it out, he stomped up to the cockpit to meditate on the situation.

—

You woke up hours later, wincing at a soreness in your arm. It was bent funny, from where you had held Grogu next to you during your rest. The child was gone, and you blinked slowly and yawned before rising yourself.

The hull of the ship was quiet and empty, and you saw that the hatch was down. You could see sunlight streaming in, and as you changed into a clean set of clothes you wondered where Din had landed your little trio. You hadn’t gotten a chance to ask him, and he hadn’t asked your opinion on the next destination.

As if your thoughts had summoned him, the man stepped up into the ship - his kid noticeably absent. Pulling a light parka over your head, you shook out your hair and looked around for your shoes.

“Where is Grogu?” You inquired as Din began grabbing various things out of the storage compartments in his ship. Rations, water packs, necessities like that. Was he going on a hunt?

“With a friend,” Din answered. “He’ll be safe there.”

You frowned, confused. “Ok,” you said slowly. “But what about me?”

Din turned to you, handing you your empty pack. “You’ll be with me,” he said simply. “Pack up. Just enough for a day or two.”

Taking the pack, you looked at it dumbly, still confused. You rarely joined Din on his bounties - you were not trained in combat and would only be a liability. You usually stayed behind, running calculations or translating texts, Grogu babbling at your side until Din returned. You often joked you were an extremely overqualified babysitter, which you were sure Din rolled his eyes at.

“It’s ok,” Din said softly, noticing your expression. It almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself of his own statement, and your stomach knotted. The irrational part of you wondered if he was going to take you out into the desert and leave you for dead. You quickly squashed those thoughts, chastising yourself. Din hadn’t given you any reason not to trust him yet - and you hadn’t given him a reason to distrust you in turn. You had come to understand that he often left out details not because he wasn’t willing to share, but because he was used to doing everything on his own. You hoped this was just another one of those situations, where you’d find out his plans once he decided you needed to know.

Nodding, you turned and began to pack some basics, just missing a relieved sigh from the armored man as he continued his own packing.

—

A while later, you cursed the strain in your calves as you followed Din up a narrow, rocky trail. He had taken you on quite the hike - up and over low volcanic hills, covered in lava rock and plush layers of moss and other plant life. You realized that you were on Nevarro after seeing the spaceport in the distance. You knew Din had history here, and people he considered allies, but it still didn’t explain what in the hell was going on or why you were there.

Rounding the top of the hill, you paused to catch your breath. A warm breeze twisted lazily around you, and you scanned the horizon waiting for your energy to return.

“We’re almost there,” Din called, already several paces ahead of you. He pointed to the next rocky cliff, a couple hundred yards away. “It’s just behind there.”

“What is?” You cried out for the nth time. “Pirate hideout? Hidden cache?”

“You’ll see,” was his enigmatic reply, and you huffed before continuing behind him loyally.

The slight smell of sulfur hit your sense with the next breeze, and you scrunched your face up at the sensation. Ahead of you, Din disappeared around a rocky outcrop, and you hoisted your pack up over your shoulder and hurried to join him.

Rounding a sharp, porous cliff, you ran right into his back. He steadied you with a firm arm, shifting so that you could see around him and down into a small valley.

Steam rose in plumes, shifting in the late afternoon light. Geothermal springs bubbled and hissed below you, surrounding a small building set into the volcanic cliffs. Greenery decorated the ferrocrete structure, ivy and other creeping vines draping beautifully over its brutalist exterior. Your mouth opened into a small ‘o’, and you looked up at Din with wide eyes.

“It’s for you,” he said. “A place to relax, for a little while.”

“I don’t know what to say,” you sputtered. This was the last thing you were expecting to see, or receive. Your own private hot spring bungalow? You were expecting a cave or some other kind of damp hole you’d be crawling through in search of some criminal fugitive or piece of ancient pottery. “How did you come across a place like this?”

“Karga - the magistrate,” he clarified. “He owed me a favor.”

You frowned. “Din, I can’t take your favor. That’s not fair.”

He shrugged, continuing down the hill. “You need a break. Just enjoy it.”

—

The sun set a few hours later, and you lounged on the small porch, sipping on a cool drink. You had spent an almost unhealthy amount of time bathing in the springs, the warm water soothing aches you didn’t even realize you had. Din had busied himself elsewhere during that time - you had insisted that he also take the time to relax a little bit. The building wasn’t terribly large, but it was enough so that the two of you had privacy from one another.

You had half-expected him to dip out once you reached the building, and it had seemed like it was on his mind too. He had hovered just inside the doorway as you explored, and it wasn’t until you had gestured for him to come inside that he crossed the threshold. Almost like he was waiting for your permission.

The setting sun cast an orange light over the hills, making the bubbling springs look like pools of lava. You smiled, rubbing your calves lazily. There had been some lovely oils and creams set out, and you had picked the one you liked the smell of most to rub into your skin. The scent of medicinal spices and flowers filled your senses, all of it combining into quite a calming atmosphere. It almost reminded you of the bathhouses back on Naboo - except much more private.

“How was it?” Din’s voice greeted you, and you looked over your shoulder to see him carrying a stack of wood towards a small fire pit set into the ferrocrete floor.

“It was wonderful,” you gushed. “You should give them a try before we leave. I’ll go inside so you can get the full experience.”

“I might,” Din mused, arranging the wood and setting it alight. He settled on a small seat, hands crossed in front of him. You scooted over to join him closer to the flames.

“I really appreciate this,” you professed. “Though…I’m still a little confused. I hope you know I don’t expect things like this.” While you knew your life of relative peace and luxury was vastly different from his own, you had felt like you had settled quite comfortably into a life of being on the move and living in cramped spaces. “You don’t need to bribe me, you know,” you joked.

His helmet tilted to the side. “I know,” Din responded lowly. “It’s - more of a token of my appreciation for everything you do for Grogu and I. And…an apology.”

“For what?” You inquired.

“For everything,” he answered quietly. “For…letting my feelings get in the way. And for unpaid promises.”

“Oh,” you rasped, drawing your knees up to your chest and resting your chin on top. Guilt flooded in, and you let out a sigh.

“It’s ok Din,” you mumbled. “I should have known better. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. You don’t have to - it’s not a promise I expected you to even say, much less keep. If you want to forget about it, then I’m all right with that.” You shot him a half-smile, trying to force yourself to be ok with this development. Having it out in the open hurt, but at least you knew.

Time passed slowly, though, in reality, it must have been just a few heartbeats. The two of you gazed into the low flames. The smell of the burning wood was bright, like something you’d smell in incense. Combined with the steam and the oils, you felt a little lightheaded. You thought about excusing yourself and calling it a night early, maybe finding something alcoholic to sip before trying to sleep your feelings off, when Din let out a sigh.

“I’ve seen members of my covert leave for various reasons,” Din spoke softly. You raised your eyes and watched him through the flames as he poked at the coals, sending sparks up into the sky. “Wealth, family, fear, love. I had thought that there couldn’t possibly be anything in the galaxy that would cause me to forsake the creed.”

“I’ve felt temptation. It’s not an easy life, but it was the only one that I had ever truly known,” he continued. It’s what drives me…gives me purpose.” You nodded slowly, silence inviting him to continue.

“I knew this older Mandalorian, decades ago. We had traveled together on a few different bounties before I had started taking jobs exclusively on my own.” There was a hint of a smile in his soft voice. “I guess he was a kind of…mentor. Took me under his wing when I was first starting out. The last time I saw him was the day he laid down his helmet and left the creed. The other members of the covert watched him go in silence, but I followed him out into the dawn. I confronted him, and asked him why he would leave.” Another poke at the coals, and more sparks.

“I remember him just turning, a small, sad smile on his face,” Din murmured. “And he said ‘I just didn’t want to live another day without feeling the sun on my face, kid.’”

“Back then, I hadn’t understood. I had thought the man a fool for abandoning the creed for such an insignificant reason.” His helmet turned up, the visor facing you straight on. “Then, years later, I accepted a bounty for the kid and it was then that everything I thought he knew about the galaxy and my place in it had shifted.” You could barely hear a broken sigh as Din dropped the stick he had been using to stoke the fire, his hands resting limply on his thighs.

“And after meeting you,” he rasped, and your heart started beating so fast you were sure he could hear it. “I started to understand that perhaps that man’s words were more than just about feeling the sun on your face.”

Swallowing roughly, you trained your eyes on the man in front of him. It was like he had deflated - everything he was feeling, out in the open - guilt bare in front of you. You stood and went over to him, sitting just to his side, thighs barely touching. Placing a wary hand on his shoulder, you tried to think of what to say in response.

“I’m can’t take back how I feel,” you decided, voice soft and gentle. “Or erase what has transpired between us. But if it makes it easier for you…” trailing off, you brought your hand down to his bicep, where there was no armor, and squeezed gently. “I’m ok with going back to how things were.”

Din’s helmet turned towards you slightly, and he placed a hand lightly on your knee, squeezing in return.

“I brought you here for another reason,” he confessed and stood. Holding out his hand, he took yours and helped you to your feet, leading you inside the building.

It was lit dimly by warm, inset lights, and you followed Din into the main bedroom suite. You sat at the edge of the wide bed and watched as he went over to where his things were sitting on a table.

“Maybe it would be best if we did go back to how things were,” Din faltered, voice low as if he was talking more to himself than to you. He pulled a piece of dark fabric from his pack and handed it to you. It was soft, like silk, but made of a thick weave. “But…”

You took it from him as realization bloomed in you like a rising flame. “You want to feel the sun on your face,” you finished for him, thumb brushing over the blindfold.

“I can’t show you my face,” Din husked. “It’s not…but if you cover your eyes…” he trailed off with a shaky breath. “If you are willing.”

You hummed, turning the blindfold over in your hands. “Is this what you want?” Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you handed the blindfold back to him, keeping your hand on his, waiting for his consent.

“Yes,” he rasped quickly, the word leaving his lips before you had even finished your sentence. With a nod of acknowledgment, you turned and showed him your neck. Moving your hair out of the way, you invited him to tie the blindfold over your eyes.

Darkness covered your sight as he tightened the fabric around your head. His hands settled heavily on your shoulders and you turned back to face him.

“I know I can’t see,” you ventured, “But can I touch you?” You placed a hand on his chest and heard a low, shaken noise from the man underneath the armor.

“Touching…is ok,” Din answered, and the tone of it sounded more like a plea than anything else. You stood in front of him, hands slowly going up to his shoulders, and you felt around for the clasps and belts that held his armor in place. You wanted to undress him as he had undressed you.

As each piece of armor came off, you handed it to him to place safely somewhere off to the side. Not being able to see what you were doing made the work a little harder, but it also increased your desire with every passing moment. You were getting closer and closer to his skin with every removal, and you tried to quell the anxious shake in your hands.

You got to his waist and then kneeled slightly to unclasp the armor at his thighs. Your hand brushed over the front of his trousers, and you felt him there, hard and wanting. A wrecked groan echoed from above you, affirming his desperation. Standing again, your hands went to his chest to undo his shirt when his hands came up to stop you.

“Wait.” You held still, listening for his instructions. You felt him move away from you slightly and heard rustling and the sound of him taking his boots off before you felt his presence back in front of you.

“Ok,” he affirmed, and your heart kept at the sound of his voice, clear and strong without the helmet in the way. He had removed it.

Your hands came back up to his collarbone, and you undid the front of his linen shirt. His skin was warm underneath, and you could feel his heart thundering. It matched your own, and it spurred you on further. You tugged up, and he helped you pull it up over his head before discarding it.

Before you could continue, his own hands went to your clothing. You paused and let him undress you in turn - your top thrown to the side, your linen shorts pulled down your legs. You stood in front of him, just in your thin fiber weave underwear, when he cupped your chin and brought his mouth to meet yours.

You felt his lips, soft against you, almost chaste in their exploring. You parted your own in a small gasp, hand coming up to rest on his chest. You could feel his heart thrum underneath your hand.

The scruff of his facial hair tingled and scraped your chin as he deepened the kiss. Your tongue darted out towards his lips, and he chased it back into your mouth with his own. One of his hands came to the back of your head as he laid you back on the soft sheets, guiding you down. His mouth moved to your jaw and he placed several firm, wet kisses all along it as you sighed and began to surrender to his touch.

—

Din felt like he was on fire. His body pushed him as his mind screamed at him, confusing messages telling him to stop, no, keep going, creed versus desire no it’s ok she can’t see, it doesn’t count, please just let me have this -

Every piece of his armor coming off at your hands sent shocks of desire through him, followed swiftly by guilt at finding pleasure in something so forbidden. Then he started to take off your clothes, swallowing roughly at the sight of your smooth curves revealed to his uncovered eyes.

He channeled his guilt and deference to the creed into the worship of your body. From your mouth, down to your jaw, and then to the center of your chest. He held himself over you, careful not to crush you under his weight. You arched up, and he ran his tongue to the peak of one of your breasts. Closing his eyes, he groaned as he sucked there roughly, delighting in how you gasped at the sensation.

“Feels good,” you muttered above him, and he responded by turning his mouth to your other breast. One of your hands came up to comb through his hair, and he teased you with a soft nip to the soft flesh around your pert nipple.

“You’re so soft,” Din whispered, trailing his mouth down the plane of your stomach. A smile flickered across your face before turning into a hiss as he kneeled at the edge of the bed and spread open your thighs. “Never knew anything could be so kriffing soft.”

He nosed at your covered mound, hands gripping your thighs. The thin fabric of your underwear was losing its modesty just from your slick - and he hadn’t even tasted you yet.

“So wet,” Din growled. “Do you always get so wet? Do you walk around my ship with a dripping cunt?” He wrapped his lips around the soft, swollen mound of you, holding tight to your legs to prevent you from moving away from his probing tongue.

“Unngh,” was all the answer you could muster as his lips firmed around the bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs. Your orgasm was approaching rapidly, bitter-bright from the sensation of the man prostrating himself between your legs. His mouth moved against you, and he pushed your soaked underwear to the side to lathe his tongue up your slit. You reached down to grasp his hair again as he edged you closer to release.

Helmetless, Din reveled in the taste of you, the smell of you. Deference to his creed defied by the roaring desire you had planted inside of him urged him on. He flicked his tongue quickly over your swollen clit, eyes closing as you tensed against him.

“Oooh,” you simpered, hands tightening in his hair. “I’m gonna co-“ you failed to get the words out as Din pushed his face further into your soft cunt, and you came with a choked cry.

Stars, he thought. The feeling of you coming on his hand had been one thing, but this? The rapture of your orgasm nearly had him coming himself. A fleeting thought crossed his mind that he was now ruined - how could he ever be satisfied with just touches after feeling you come undone by his mouth?

Body shaking and jolting with every continued suck, you pushed at Din’s head. “S’too much,” you wailed, and you swore you could feel him smirk against you.

With one last kiss to your swollen flesh, Din moved back up your body. He grunted in surprise as you pushed on his shoulders, trying to roll him over. “What’re you doing?” He huffed.

“You said touching is ok,” you pouted, and he obliged you and rolled to his side. You felt around for his chest and swung a still-shaking leg over his broad lower abdomen. Leaning forward, you bumped his nose clumsily as he chuckled lowly and guided your desperate mouth to his own. You sighed into it, tongue swiping at his lips to taste yourself on him. Din’s hands settled on the backs of your thighs, rubbing the soft skin there as you explored his mouth.

Mirroring his earlier journey, you moved from his lips to his jaw, nipping at the scruff. His short nails scratched lightly at the skin on your legs as you ventured lower, using only your sense of touch to guide yourself down him.

Din groaned as your tongue came out to trace his collarbone before you kissed down his chest. His cock jumped at the feeling of you grinding down into his lap - were you even aware of it, or were you so drunk on the need for him that you didn’t notice?

As you moved your body down to settle between his legs, reaching for the belt of his trousers, you frowned in frustration as his hand came to stop you. “Sorry, sweetness,” Din mumbled. “But I’m not gonna last if you do that, and I want to come inside your cunt.”

“Oh,” you responded lamely as he grabbed your arms and dragged you back up his body. He slotted his mouth over yours again as he flipped your roles, once again hovering over your smaller frame.

“You want that?” Din husked into your mouth and you nod feverishly. “I know - you’re drenched with the thought of me deep inside you, aren’t you?” You moan your assent, shivering at the filthy way he’s talking to you.

“Gonna ruin you,” he continues lowly, shedding his pants and gripping the base of himself. Grabbing one of your legs, he pulls you down as you yelp. He rubs his cockhead over your clit and up and down your dripping folds, spreading your thighs to settle heavily between them.

His girth dwarfs you - you had seen how big he was before when you had him in your mouth, but feeling him like this - hard against where you wanted him most - makes your head spin. With a grunt, he pushes against you, and you feel the pressure of him.

He knows he should go slow. He wonders if he’ll fit as he watches the way you split and stretch around him. He feels too big, but it’s too good to slow down - and the way you keen under him urges him on. It’s selfish, he thinks wildly. Not taking the time to prepare you for this. But he can’t help it.

“Fuck,” he rambles, speaking neither to you nor himself, but to something unseen. “This is for me. Just for me.” Rolling his hips, he thrusts up into you, watching as your covered face lulls to the side, your breath leaving you in little gasps with every punch at your guts.

’S’full,” you mumble, and he answers you with another purposeful thrust. ’B-big. You’re so big, Din. Deep. You feel so good.” He murmurs praise about how good you’ve been for him, how pretty you look under him, blissed out from his cock. You gurgle out a moan at how full you feel - you swear you can feel him all the way up in your sternum.

He wants to stain your insides. His hips piston into you recklessly, driving home so that you’ll feel him for days afterward. He wants you to walk back to his ship sore and dripping with his spend, and then he’d push you down into your cot and fill you up again for good measure.

Your cunt flutters around him, and it drives him further into madness. All thoughts of the creed are gone. He’s lost in the tight clutch of you - the universe begins and ends from where he’s anchored inside of your body.

“Gonna fill you up,” he slurs against your mouth, chest coming down to press against yours. He hisses at your nails scratching up his back, and he presses his teeth against your bared neck. He sucks a dark mark there, nipping and biting up to just under your ear. “Want it, don’t you? Gotta come on my cock first, baby.”

Your brows furrow as if in concentration - you focus intently on the feeling of him. The way his bulk spreads your thighs, the ache of a burn already growing there. The way his iron-hard cock spears you open. The way his mouth lathes over your skin. It’s too much and not enough all at the same time, and it pulls you apart.

Din groans at the feeling of you tensing below him, around him. He’s so close, and it makes his whole body burn. He has just enough sanity left to keep his deepest desires on the tip of his tongue - the ones that make him come the hardest when he’s alone, cock in hand. The ones where he comes so deep inside of you that it takes and ties you to him forever.

He almost says it. “Might fucking take, sweet girl. Want me to come in you? Stuff you full of my come? Fill you so deep, get you nice and round with it-“

He doesn’t though - not yet, that’s too much - and instead muffles a groan into your neck as he starts to come. Din slams his hips into you once, twice, and then holds himself up against the seal of your womb, rutting not out but further up. Stars, he’s coming so much, and harder than he had ever come before. It makes him see static behind his eyes.

You shiver and moan beneath him, at the feeling of him pulsing his release inside of you. Din slots his mouth over yours before lowering himself further, hiking your legs up to lock around his waist.

You shift under him, still anchored to where he fills you. You can fill yourself leaking around the tight plug of him, and it makes your toes curl. Din does not make an effort to move, merely buries his nose into the side of your neck and curls around you further. Maybe it’s the desire to keep you there, attached to him. The feeling of holding someone in his arms - so unfamiliar yet so necessary.

He might be a Mandalorian, but he’s also a man, after all.

—

Din has you twice more before the sun rises. On your knees, face buried in the pillow as he plows into you from behind. He fucks you slow and deep like this, rambling more filth into your ear until you’re shaking around him again.

You’re nearly delirious from the pleasure and exertion as he brings you to your crest a final time. He lowers you onto him, your chests pressed together. The blindfold is damp from a mixture of your sweat and your tears. His hands brand themselves on the curves of your ass as he fills you one last time, praising you for how well you took him.

You feel him shudder beneath you as you mumble how you want to be good for him before you sigh and fall out of lucidity.

—

He holds you like that as the sun crests through the thin curtains. You’re sprawled over him, check pressed against his chest. Eyes still covered - the blindfold hadn’t budged, despite the way you tumbled together through the night. A small token of grace.

Din knows he’ll have to get up soon, and put his helmet back on before you wake up. His body is tired, though, and he convinces himself to lie there - just a little longer - and tries to imprint how it feels to have your body pressed against his.

After the bliss has faded and the shame sets in, it might be all he’s left with.

[hannahssimblr]

Shane arrives in the late afternoon, and suddenly we are five. In the aftermath of the storm, when the tarmac is black and the air is fragrant with petrichor we hike to the touristy side of the beach to have drinks at the Surf Shack. We wipe rain off the picnic benches and sit overlooking the sea. It’s choppy, the sand pockmarked with puddles, but the humid heaviness the last few days spent building has been lifted away, leaving crisp, fresh air in its place. At least for now.

Jen starts demanding everyone’s highlight reel of the past year after only two minutes of small talk, and we talk about how Joe broke his wrist playing frisbee, Jen applied to eleven business schools because she didn’t know what else to put on the forms, and Shane lost his virginity to some girl called Aishling in January, though getting that tidbit is like dragging information from a stone. To distract from our nudges and kissy noises Shane asks me about Michelle, which doesn't help, because then I have to tell them all that we broke up.

It instantly zaps the fun out of things and makes the boys awkward. They grumble vague condolences and start looking around the place like they can pull a less depressing topic of conversation out of the air. I remind myself not to mention her again. 

But they don’t have to sit in this particular discomfort for long, because our drinks arrive, carried by Liam, who invites a brand new one by lingering around the table and trying to make conversation. I grit my teeth and remember to be nice.

“Ah look who’s here!” He beams, “the gang are back together!”

“Hi Liam!” Jen’s tone is straining with enthusiasm, “good to see you again, you done your leaving cert?”

“I am indeed! Finished up there last week, t’was some slog, I’ll tell you that. I was just dying to get back out here to the beach and do a bit of surfing. The first group of kids doing the classes are to be down now on the first week of July, and sure then it’s go go go! But look, sure it’s great craic altogether, can’t complain.”

He’s met with blank stares. 

“Oh yeah! Sounds fun.” Jen says after a beat, “Well, it’s nice to see-”

“Having any parties or anything like that this summer?” he asks. 

“Um, well we’re not sure, but if we do we’ll invite you.” I give her a subtle kick beneath the table, which is a mistake, because she turns her huge, beaming smile on me. Her eyes glint threateningly, “You should ask Jude though, we’re staying at his house, so he gets to decide.”

“Yeah,” I say, “Um, we’ll invite you to whatever we’re doing, we just don’t know yet.” Fine. I want to say to Jen. I’ll invite him, but you can take care of him in the toilet when he’s hammered and sick after one beer. 

“That’d be so cool, thanks!” he says, “and I’ve something you can do too, as it happens. My dad is having the first karaoke night of the year down at the local pub next week, you know, just to kind of usher in the beginning of the busy season. You should definitely come along.”

“Karaoke?” Joe echoes, “you want us to sing songs?”

“Well who doesn’t like a good auld sing-song? It’ll be a bit of fun.”

“Probably not,” Joe then turns to Kasper to try and explain to him what is happening in simple English. “Nah, Karaoke, like, singing, and shit” he mutters, “like,” he holds an invisible microphone to his mouth, “la la la, bla bla bla, like, that, like.”

Look, maybe,” I tell Liam, “I don’t think we’re exactly singers here, but we might come to the pub anyway for a few drinks.”

“You might be compelled to belt out a tune or two while you’re there.”

“Stranger things have happened.”

“Alright!” he starts walking back to the Surf Shack, turning one more time to point into our faces, “Think of ye’re songs between now and then, will ya? Just in case you change your mind at some stage!” 

Jen looks at me expectantly once he’s gone, and I immediately groan, slumping in my seat under the weight of her expectation. “Fine, I’ll invite him to whatever party, Jen, but I’m not fucking doing karaoke.” 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[juno-of-wonderland]

Hello. I got an idea after listening to these songs - requiem ver chogakusei Alien Stage - sweet dreams. Namely, that Yu has the magic of music (more precisely, magic manifests itself when Yu sings or plays musical instruments, sometimes when he dances). And I would like the guys to catch Yu during one of these actions (dormitory wardens + Jamil). Just imagine how Yu sings requiem and magic begins to appear in the form of flames/shining stars/flowers, etc.)

you brought me some memories and I love ideas involving music, most of my entries are made with a POV playlist and I swear I tried to do it in dorm order, but I was blocked so I wrote who already had one (yes, I I do everything disorganized and then together) and as my limit is 7 characters, I believe you asked to change Kalim for Jamil, if not, just let me know and I'll do his THANKS FOR THE REQUEST

Azul Ashengrotto

-Azul was ending the day and going to his room -but the kitchen lights were on, which made him frown, don't people know how much energy can cost? -as he was approaching, he heard a small voice singing "I travel the world and the seven seas Everybody's looking for something" -he sneaked in to see you and his eyes widened -there you are, washing the dishes, a normal thing, if it weren't for the small bubbles forming around you and the water apparently wanting to come out of the sink -he was certainly stunned for too long for you to stop your work and look at him -you stare at each other in silence -he clears his throat and says he appreciates you staying until everything is finished, but it's already late and he's going to walk you to the mirror -if you act as if nothing had happened or don't know that anything happened, he will understand that tiredness is causing some kind of jock -if you seem nervous, then he knows that what he saw was your secret��� that he can use later

Malleus Draconia

-this man loves the night, we all know, but you didn't expect him to show up today -you start singing outside the ramshackle and doing a very small and centered dance -it's not really a dance, it's just a swing -small flowers bloom next to your feet as you says "Sweet dreams are made of this Who am I to disagree" for the second time -and the dragon is watching everything -he is surprised but delighted by your performance, he finds it adorable -he only talks to you when you finish -Malleus asks about your magic with interest, but if you don't want to talk about it, he won't insist, even if it upsets him -please sing him another song

Idia Shroud

-a miracle happened and this man was outside his room -he wanted to play a new game with you -Idia just didn't expect to catch you singing alone in a completely personal and shameful moment -he planned to sneak out, he was really going to do it! but your voice is so jahavsbgsjsbsfgssnj he sounds like an otome boy, stop doing this to him! -you start another song "one vague, misjudged view like a faint flower gone insane " -and that's when he realizes, small spark of fire dancing on top of his head -he leans over from where he was hiding, to get a better look… and ends up tripping and falling -Please don't do anything to him! he didn't want to peep! -if he has the courage to mention what happened while you were singing and you look confused, he will get excited like "I think you unlocked a power because you were brought here like in an isekai… in fact you are already in one isekai" -if you are aware of this ability, it will be your little secret, he will keep this information and fulfill the promise

Vil Schoenheit

-Vil was going to her dorm, to take you on a comparison trip -This man's ears are trained and he doesn't even need to open the door to see that you are singing -he ponders whether he should go or not, he chose to stay and open the door slowly and you sing "if i became a butterfly, so free"

-and look at his surprise when he saw you beaming like a crystal while (trying to) clean -several occasional sparkles and butterfly's swirling around you -you get scared when you see him -"your performance…" Vil begins "it wasn't bad, but I'm disappointed that you hid your magic potato" he's serious -after all, his magic suits you, he wants to know why you don't tell anyone, but he won't be invasive, he will be… subtle

Jamil Viper

-I couldn't think of an excuse for this guy to find you, so let's get to the basics -he was passing in the hallway when he heard his voice coming from an empty room -he pulled up next to the door and heard you sing "Lord, Please when the song is over, save me please My Father, My Universe Take away the small and weak me" -and when he looks at you and literally sees stars dancing with you -this man is bewildered, I think tiredness has finally caught up with him -but he remains silent, without interrupting you, you seem so carefree now, he doesn't want to take away that feeling -At some point he will leave, you won't even notice it -he needs to see this again and make sure it wasn't something in his head

Leona Kingsholar

-Now I Live in Darkness Bring me brightness Show me proof you hear my sound Live in darkness Bring me brightness Show me proof you're here now -His ears twitched at that, why does someone always have to show up at the botanical garden and disturb his sleep? -Leona intended to go back to sleep when he recognized your voice -he decided to sit down and look at the free and private show he was getting -…why are there rose petals surrounding like a hurricane and why are flowers blooming on the bushes? -he remained quiet, his mind loading until you noticed him -this guy has a mischievous smile on his face -"it seems that the herbivore hides several little things, doesn't it?"

Riddle Roseheart

-you had offered to help paint the roses -you were bored and started singing "Sweet Dream, it's today, wait for me I'll go see you soon, woo~woo~woo" along with small movements -a crown of flowers began to form on his head and roses as red as blood surrounded the garden -like when you hear a familiar voice behind you, you even spill paint on yourself -"since…since when can you do this?" -Don't try to pretend you didn't notice -he is willing to listen and help you control this magic better -he thinks what you do is really beautiful…just don't say it out loud

I hope I got the songs you said right

[gojuo]

Showrunners claiming being "feminist" is the whole circus. They screwed every woman's characterization for high Rhaenyra up:

Book!Helaena was an political advisor who usually participated on Councils,don't shy away from disagreeing with Aegon and he actually listens her advises. She was incredibly loved by the smallfolk and was brave enough to claim Dreamfyre. On the show she did not even have a Coronation or her crown neither(another woman wearing a crown except Rhaenyra is a crime).

Book!Alicent was a witty,smart and incredibly charismatic woman dutiful at the old King Jaehaerys and her sons. She was so interesting: she was disrespected on so many ways for Viserys and had every right to be upset. No other woman in Westeros had to suffer having her first born son be desinherited and ignored by his father (except Ellia from the show and on the book Jon is just a bastard) Alicent,Helaena and Aegon could had been such incredible characters on the show

The Helaena treatment is ssoooooo beyond evil. I can't believe that this fandom is still bitching about the same old tired 3 talking points months after season 1 has finished but not a single peep about how misogynistic the writers have been towards Helaena.

Being beloved by the Smallfolk is not something that randomly happens. It has to be a deliberate move, because technically, Helaena is a public figure and near every public outing she makes has to be a thought-out decision to a certain extent. She can't just willy-nilly go out into the streets of King's Landing, mingling with the people and getting to know them and have an impact on them in such a way that they would love her so much to rise up in revolt in her name. In a way, the cultivation of her public image is reminiscent of Margaery, with one major difference: no deliberate manipulation at play. There is, after all, not a single indication anywhere in any canon that Helaena was a manipulative person in the way that Margaery was, no. What this was — what the Smallfolk adoring her was — was the tangible proof of Helaena's bravery to be out in the streets with the people of King's Landing, the fortitude of her to break down the invisible line between high-born royalty and low-born commoners, a testament to her graciousness and gentility and the affirmation of her adventurous heart. She was the first one of the Targtower siblings to claim a dragon, she showed her political acumen when she and her mother drafted the more than generous peace terms for Aegon to send to Rhaenyra, she had an incredibly complex relationship with her husband who she shares such a horrific trauma-bond with which is, to this day, still unparalleled by any other couple in this entire franchise, and she was a truly witty and humorous person ...

... and all of that characterization was thrown out of the window for the show. She is an extra to someone else's story in every. single. scene. she appears in. Her first scene as a child was to cement to the audience how "weird" and "unorthodox" she is. To show the audience that she is now on the autism-spectrum apparently. She is a dragon dreamer but all she does is utter some vague one-sentence prophecies no one can make any sense of, now always having to live psychologically in isolation because of this, which is the complete opposite of how life was for her in Fire and Blood. She speaks two or three sentences during the dinner scene, and it was to service the contrast between Jace and Aegon as people, it wasn't about her. We get a two-second shot at her children and she isn't even interacting with them. Do not even get me started on how the show completely erased how Helaena used to bring the kids to Viserys every single night to sit down together and hear him speak of tales of the past as he lay dying. These passages in the book weren't without reason, they were there to humanize all four of them — Helaena, Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, and Maelor — and to garner sympathy from the reader. Blood and Cheese is one of the most disgusting things to have ever happened in all of the books, but the brutalization of all of these characters was that much more awful because we had actually spent some time together with them in the text, because we had gotten to see them be loved, because we had actually gotten to know them, even if only a little. And the show erased every single fucking thing concerning this point. Everything.

And if that wasn't enough, showrunners and writers then went on to make her an extra during her own coronation scene. That coronation was about Helaena just as much as it was about Aegon and they fucking took that from her! And for what? For what did they change her character this much? All to turn her into the fucking female lead of a fucking incestuous love triangle which is a fucking plotline straight ripped off from three fucking different characters in a different fucking part from canon. FUCKKKKK!!!!

Don't even get me started on Alicent. They gave her raw as fuck book character and motivations and narrative purpose to fucking Otto of all people in the show. She has become the abeyance of her own storyline! And instead of the fandom putting attention to this type of misogynistic writing Helaena and Alicent have been victim of by the writers, I'm having to suffer through the same played-out takes on how being an Aegon fan means being a rape apologist or how Alicent is an evil person because Helaena doesn't like to be touched. For fuck's sake GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!!!!!!

[lunastarnight]

Curts teeth

Another writing project, once again inspired by @turkeyinnovember. They made a post about a headcanon of theirs ( this one: https://www.tumblr.com/turkeyinnovember/717345318493110272/i-wish-i-can-just-shtpost-about-recreyo-and-not?source=share), so i tjought I might as well put my own little spin on it.

They had all just finished another scenario, and were now all sitting in their living room, just kinda excausted.

Curt and Christian were both on their phones, Curt playing some shitty mobile game to kill time and Christian looking through social media, Den was fidgeting with a pocket knife she had brought along, Ivan was still just kinda subconciously feeling where he had (once again) gotten stabbed in that scenario, and Kristine was holding an ice pack to her head, having hit it earlier.

But she was also staring at Curt. She had been wondering something for some time, finally unable to hold back and breaking the silence:

"So what's up with your teeth?"

Curt looked up confused. "My teeth?" he asked, thinking he might've just misheard her.

Kristine nodded, "Yeah, your teeth, why are they so weird?"

Curt looked confused, flashing his teeth for a moment. "The fuck are you talking about?" He looked to the others, hoping they could clarify what the fuck Kristine was trying to say.

Kristine vaguely gestured to him. "You know", she tried to explain herself, "why do they get so sharp sometimes?"

Christian laughed, speaking up. "Out of everything that happened, this is weird to you?"

Den shrugged. "Never really took the time to question it, figured it wad just some Multiverse stuff."

Ivan looked over with a small grin. "Gotta agree, sharp teeth aren't that big compared to some of the other stuff."

"Oh, that's what you meant." Curt shrugged. "No, not some multiverse thing or anything like that, this has always been like that, ever since I was a kid." Curt went back to his phone, nonchalantly adding "Probably just what happens when you're quarter Werewolf."

"Huh!?"

"Hm?!"

"What?!?"

The atmosphere in the room immediatally shifted, the other four staring at Curt, all of them having a different version of a mix of confusion and shock on their face.

Kristine spoke up first. "What did you just say?"Curt looked up at them again, raising an eyebrow. "What? Did I never tell you?" Chtistian sputtered in disbelief. "No! You kinda didn't." Curt seemed slightly apologetic for that, and quickly went to explain. "Oh, sorry. Well, my Grandma on my dad's side was a Werewolf, so with my dad being half a Werewolf, I'm quarter Werewolf."

They all just kinda stared at him, still very much confused. "You've never been gone on Full moon nights though.", Kristine muttered. "So what, you're immortal?" Ivan asked. "What, are you gonna turn us now that we know?" Christian said jokingly.

Curt held his hands up in the air, trying to get all of them to shut up. "Hold up, hold up, hold up, one thing after the other.", he said, looking to see if they were all paying attention, "First of all, how do you know I was never gone, did you watch me sleep or some shit?" Curt chuckled, interrupting Kristines sputtered attempt at defending herself as he continued. "But, the reason I was never away was, because I don't really have that transformation thing. Under 50 percent you typically loose most of the major Werewolf stuff like transforming into a Wolf or howling at the moon. Second, I'm not immortal, don't think any Werewolf is, they just have a longer lifespan, but since I'm more human, I will probably not live longer then any of you guys. Lastly, no, I won't. Even if I wanted to, the whole "turning people into Werewolfes" thing is kinda for actual Werewolfes, the only real Werewolf things I have are the teeth, slightly enhanced senses, and nightvision. So, even if I were to try, and bite one of you, the most that would probably happen is that'd taste bad."

They sat in silence for a bit, taking in the information, before Ivan perked up again. "What's that supposed to mean, do you think we aren't clean?"

Curt grinned, leaning back in his seat. "Honestly? Especially you, even just with all the stupid situations you're in every scenario, you probably sweat more then the rest of us, that can't taste good."

And with Ivan trying to defend himself, the usual banter continued as if nothing happened. Curts heritage had been a suprise, but honestly? As previously said, really not a big deal compared to what they were usually getting into, they'd be fine.

[shrekgogurt]

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on you WIP(s)

Thanks for the tags @theearlgreymage and @wellbelesbian !!!!

🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s)

For the sake of this endeavor I’m gonna focus on I Knew A Boy, I Knew A Man which is also more affectionately referred to as IKABIKAM, eyecab eyecam, 👁️🚕👁️📸, etc.

🍄Describe your wip/one of your wips in the format of “___ + ___ =___”  

Natasha as like a vaguely Margaret Thatcher figure but she was in office in the late 90s not the 80s don’t think about it too hard okay the exact policy/praxis doesn’t matter so much as the ideology/vibes/dynamic + Davy (The Mage) as like a fucked up Welsh caricature (of his own design) because he’s overcompensating and has the media literacy of the worst film bro you’ve ever had the misfortune of talking to = their sons falling in love through football/soccer against all odds as juxtaposed between childhood and adulthood.

🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your wip(s) need if you intend to share it?

Trauma

🧭An alternative title to your/ one of your WIP(s)?

Solsbury Hill for obvious reasons

⚠️Which wip you’re most likely to finish or update next?

This one :-)

💾What is your document of your wip/ a wip called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

Okay, I’m usually absolute ass at naming files in any helpful fashion but this project is so organized on Google Docs. My notes app is a different story. Those don’t even have titles. I just launch into my whims as they come.

Most interesting answer I can give is that the folder containing all my fic documents is titled “kill the part that cringes.”

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

Listen, I warned y’all.

To be in love with Simon Snow—a life sentence, an encyclopedia of grief.

♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP

In the original musings of IKABIKAM—titled Scarborough Fair as the club was gonna be in Scarborough—Simon was Irish rather than Welsh and raised by Ruth. I know. Wild to think about now. But it’s true. And then I did some excavating on canon and the story we have today was born. Lost to time (the original idea of this fic which was actually two fics) is a whole very fun scene. I had planned that after the international break match against other, Simon convinced Baz to go out on the town with him. I wrote this snippet back then. It didn’t make the cut for obvious reasons and honestly I don’t know how much I stand by the characterization. Or the prose. Everything about IKABIKAM is better to me but this sexy little number deserves the people’s attention. I’m slightly concerned it’s offensive.

They’re playing INDUSTRY BABY in this club right now? I’m not dancing with Simon Snow to a Lil Nas X song. That music video…I’m only a man. I’m also not exactly sober. I will not risk a Snow relapse. Besides, Snow himself just downed the rest of his drink.

He leans toward me to say something. With the combination of his drunkenness and his accent I can barely make out his words, “eye gahta gohbakta da barrr.” (Translation: I’ve got to go back to the bar.) He really doesn’t.

I pluck the glass from his hand, “this last one is on me.”

He goofily smiles. His head is drooping to the side and his eyes are half-lidded. It would be adorable if I wasn’t worried about him falling over. I scan the room. One of the other Irish players is nearby. I hook Snow’s arm in mine (both my hands are full!) and drag him towards his teammate. He stumbles behind me looking completely blissed out.

I tap the other player on his shoulder. Clancy I think? The left winger. “Hey, I’m going to force Snow home so he can avoid a stomach pump. Could you make sure he doesn’t wander off while I close out my tab?”

He nods. I throw Snow at him and maneuver through the crowd up to the bar. It’s packed. I finish my own drink before I can push an opening to order. The bartender nods at me. She looks worn out from the night. I don’t blame her.

“Soda water with lime please.”

“Sure. What’s the name on the tab?”

“Grimm-Pitch. Could you close it?”

She nods and turns on her heel. A minute or so later she returns with the drink and my card. I take them.

“Is there any chance I could close out my mate’s tab too. He’s pissed.” I gesture back at the direction of Snow and Clancy. A circle of women have surrounded them. Honestly, fair.

The bartender gives me a wary eye. “What’s the name?”

“Snow.”

“Snow? Like the footballer Simon Snow over there?” She points at Simon.

I nod. The bartender scoffs, “Sure I’ll give Simon Snow’s card to some random Englishman.”

Random Englishman? Am I really going to have to do you know who I am this woman? I go for a subtle approach and just sort of lift an eyebrow and draw attention to the name on my own card: Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch. The realization hits her. I was afraid I would have to tie my hair up.

“Oh shit. Fuck you’re Baz Pitch.” She stares at me. I hold out my hand. “Right, the card!” She hands me Snow’s card.

I nod, “Alright. Thanks.”

She shakes her head at me, “No, sorry for the hassle. Have a good night English…defensive midfielder…Baz Pitch.” She says my name with a laugh like she’s awestruck I’m in this Dublin nightclub (fair), “and thanks for the win today!”

I’m beyond tired of hearing that line.

When I return Snow is having the time of his life: posted up surrounded by ladies singing along to Ayyy Ladies. They’re not being subtle in their flirting. (Again, fair. Good for them.) Snow is incredibly respectful despite being off his face. Good lad. He’s still far too drunk to consent to anything so I don’t feel terribly guilty for pulling him away from the grind fest.

When he sees me approach he lights up, “Baz!” His arms fly open. “Took you long enough.”

I hand him his drink. There is a blonde woman dancing on him. She throws her arms around his neck. He knocks back the drink and chugs it in one go. A little water dribbles down his chin and he wipes it away with his thumb. It catches on his bottom lip. He hasn’t looked away from me once. And this fucking song…

“When I hit it from the back, don't fuss, don't fight

When I put it in ya mouth, don't scratch, don't bite”

I need to get the fuck out of here.

He hands me back the glass, “That drink was awful. What was it?” His speech is a little less slurred than before.

“Water. I’m taking you home.”

He blushes, “What?”

“You’re plastered. So, you should get sick in your own loo rather than on this lovely woman,” I give the blonde a wink. She dances away.

I’m pretty sure tabs aren’t even really that much of a thing in Ireland. And like…I don’t think you can close them out for someone else. So like. I don’t know what the fuck I was on while writing that. Obviously not Google.com, or reality. But most of all I was absolutely jump-scared reading that back and discovering I was gonna make Baz a defensive midfielder? WTF!?

🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

A hockey one-shot. Whenever it happens the chirps are gonna be out of this world.

🤡How many Wips are you actively working on?

One in a way that’s meaningful. Maybe two. It’s a fresh thing.

🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

The chapter is really expositional in an isolated way and so I have to backtrack for context without being boring.

❤️Not a question, just a second kudos to send.

Blessed beyond belief.

Now tagging @artsyunderstudy @brilla-brilla-estrellita @cutestkilla @facewithoutheart @hushed-chorus @iamamythologicalcreature @ileadacharmedlife @j-nipper-95 @noblecorgi @prettygoododds @thewholelemon @valeffelees @roomwithanopenfire @youarenevertooold @you-remind-me-of-the-babe omg and @emeryhall tell me everything

[k-evans-reads]

In Living Color

Chapter 9 - Part Two

Summary: When Natalie Marton, lead character designer for Buzz Lightyear, meets the voice of Buzz, Chris Evans, the sparks are undeniable. But when their work pushes them away from each other, both physically and emotionally, will the sheer differences between their worlds be enough to force them apart?

Pairing: Chris Evans x Pixar Animator OFC Natalie Marton

Word Count: 4,705

By: @k-evans-writes and @ourfinest-hour

We do NOT give permission for our works to be reuploaded, translated, or reposted on any other site. Our work is our own.

Warnings: None.

Previous | Main Masterlist | In Living Color Masterlist

June 2021

If Chris had to guess, he’d say he slept maybe for twenty minutes the previous night.

Twenty restless minutes, after which he woke feeling as though he’d had a nightmare. But what he wished was only a nightmare had become his reality, which was that damned leaked picture from the catering company, one with him all over Nat in the background.

Chris couldn’t stop thinking that this was just an absolute fucking disaster. One that didn’t end when he opened his eyes, instead playing out in front of him with every passing moment where his phone didn’t light up with a text from here and when he was still so fucking annoyed and discouraged, not knowing how or if he should reach out first when Nat was the one to end things. 

Thankfully, the crew had the day off to adjust back to day shoots after a long few weeks of night work, but the reprieve didn’t last long when he heard the door to his hotel room unlock and open as Scott came inside with a yawn. They’d made plans the previous night – before Chris’ life went up in flames thanks to a simple phone call – to eat breakfast in Chris’ room, then find the Sox game on a random online stream and spend the day on the couch. 

Chris didn’t even look up from where he was staring out the window when Scott came into the room, shoulders taught when Scott asked, “So how’s Nat?” 

“The fuck if I know,” he shook his head, glancing down at the table before he took a sip of coffee, hoping it somehow held the answers to how to fix everything.

Scott’s face fell and he reared back before hurrying to sit down at the table next to Chris, pulling a plate of eggs from room service in front of him. “What the hell does that mean?” He asked Chris with a raised brow as he sprinkled some pepper onto his food. 

“It means I wouldn’t have a clue,” Chris began before he scoffed and his hand flew in the air. “She’s going to Seattle and doesn’t want to talk to me. We fought last night and she said she wanted time to think.” 

Scott listened to him with an expression of pure disbelief, and once Chris explained what happened vaguely, his younger brother held his own hand in the air and ordered, “Hold on, back up and start from the beginning. None of this is making sense.” 

With a sigh, Chris began from the beginning, reminding him about the stressful hurried texts and calls with Megan in between takes and during dinner, but then caught him up to speed on what happened after the fact, once he was back in his room and Nat was on her way home from work. And as he retold the story, he was struck by just how sideways everything went, and how quickly it went wrong. But he still couldn’t figure out why Nat got so frustrated with him relaying what Megan – one of the people he trusted the most in this industry, almost implicitly – advised them to do to handle this. Which was her job. What he paid her to do. “I just feel like she was blaming me for everything when all I was doing was trying to make it better for her,” he finished, shrugging as he shook his head in frustration. 

But he didn’t expect Scott’s scowl once he finished, and the dirty blond held his hands in the air placatingly as he told Chris, “Look, don’t shoot the messenger, but it sounds like she kind of told you she just wanted some emotional support.” 

“That’s what I was trying to do! I was trying to solve it so she wouldn’t have to deal with it,” Chris explained, hands flying in the air as he clenched his jaw. 

“She had to deal with it anyway though, Chris,” Scott explained slowly, in a way that made Chris feel as though he was a four-year-old getting chastised. “Remember that Nat isn’t used to any of this. I’m sure it really scared her.” 

He stared at his hands as they anxiously fiddled in his lap, wrapping around themselves before they dropped to his sides, only to go right back to it again. “....It did,” he admitted, remembering how gutted and terrified she sounded, almost more than she did the previous week when she’d call him distraught. 

Scott listened to Chris and was quiet for several minutes as Chris moved his food around his plate and Scott ate. Even looking at the food made Chris feel sick, he just wanted to hop onto the next flight out and apologize to Nat and hold her. But he couldn’t. He had too much riding against him here – commitments and contracts, things he absolutely couldn’t get out of without fucking up his career, and people relying on him, people he had to owe a good portion of his career to – but he yearned to see her face to face, to make things right. 

“C’mon, I know you’re thinking something. What’s going on in your head?” Scott prodded gently, pointing his fork towards Chris. 

“I don’t know Scott, I just know I fucked it up,” he whispered, rubbing a hand over his face to hopefully calm himself down and stave off something like a panic attack. “I think me wanting to solve all of this with the picture was more about wanting to solve it for me than it was for her.” 

“Why do you think that?” 

Chris shrugged, frowning as he tried to clear the lump in his throat. “Because I think I knew how much it would hurt her and make her see all the shit that goes along with me,” he admitted finally. 

Scott sighed, almost sympathetically as he pointed out, “But that’s unavoidable. With the level of fame that you’re at, that’s what goes with it.” 

“That’s the problem. Anyone who’s with me has to deal with it,” Chris agreed, his voice stronger. It’d taken him a long time to recognize the burden he placed on his loved ones with just being him. With being the guy on his nephews and niece’s friends’ lunch boxes, the guy in every other commercial some years. It sucked, it was a level of fame he never quite desired, and he was grateful for it – don’t get him wrong, he was immensely grateful for the career he worked for – but he missed the days where people didn’t breathe down his neck, didn’t tag him in random pictures every minute, and didn’t flood his mentions with less than desirable things. It was all the biggest turn offs to anyone, but especially someone like Nat, who had a career that afforded her with the privacy and autonomy he no longer knew. “And Nat’s no social climber who likes the spotlight but she’s also not someone in the industry who’s used to it and I know she’s going to hate it.” 

But Scott saw right through that argument, that line of logic, and in between bites of bacon he told Chris, “If she cares about you though, it won’t matter.” 

“I’m just afraid that we haven’t had the chance for the good to outweigh the bad,” Chris confessed quietly, feeling as though he was now just waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“You can’t control that though,” Scott argued back, but then his expression turned empathetic as he studied Chris with a sad half-smile. “And I know you hate that.” 

“I dunno, Scott. Maybe it’s for the best,” Chris shrugged and tried to assure himself of just that. That he would bring nothing but chaos and a spotlight to Nat’s otherwise peaceful, uninteresting-to-the-average-fan life. “Nat’s better off without all this in her life.” 

“Are you better off without her?” 

“I don’t think that’s part of the equation anymore,” Chris admitted, more to himself than Scott. “I fucked it up, but then again I always seem to.”

“So don’t you think you should work on fixing things?” Scott asked with a shrug, with the self-surety that only came with being Scott. At Chris’ silence and odd look, he explained, “I’m not trying to make you feel worse, Chris. I’m really not. I just feel like you do something you perceive as wrong and then just beat yourself up for it. Nobody is perfect, nobody handles things the right way every time but that’s why you have to just learn from it, apologize and move on.” 

“I know you’re right,” Chris began quietly, taking a large sip of his coffee, more to distract himself and hold off on speaking more than anything. “I just don’t think Nat wants to hear from me. It didn’t sound good when she said she wanted to think things over… it sounded like it was it for us and that just scared the shit out of me. Then I was an ass and made it worse by saying I’d maybe see her later.” 

Scott pointed his fork at Chris again, eyes wide as he instructed, “So tell her that. Tell her you were scared and you’re sorry.” 

Chris listened, eyes finding his phone from where it sat a few feet away, screen dark with no messages from Nat. “...I don’t think she’ll answer,” he whispered. 

But Scott simply shrugged, reaching for his iced latte and drawling, “Doesn’t mean you shouldn’t say it though.” 

He just nodded before changing the subject as he finished breakfast with his brother, but the words Scott had spoken stuck in his brain throughout the day. He couldn’t stop thinking about how all of this had happened, how good things had been and just how quickly they went wrong. His brain kept churning and replaying it over and over in his mind as the day wore on, but now that the shock and emotion of seeing that picture surface and the panic he felt was gone, all he could seem to remember was the emotion in Nat’s voice when she talked to him on that phone. 

Chris had been so focused on fixing this, on trying to make it go away to assure Nat that dating him wouldn't be the circus that he knew it was at times. He had tried to come into it with a strategy to make her feel as if he had it under control and yet all he managed to do was push her away and cause that crackle in her voice that still plagued his memory, and he was determined to make it up to her. 

Nat couldn’t help but feel disappointed that even coming back home to Washington didn’t seem to soothe her heart, and instead of breathing a sigh of relief as she stepped off the plane, she only choked back more tears. The flight, under three hours long, only provided her with more opportunities to mull over the situation with her and Chris, to think back on their highs together only to come crashing back down as she remembered their lows… and what had happened just a day earlier. 

And while she looked forward to seeing her sisters, the pair volunteering to pick her up from the airport, the grilling she received on what had just transpired hurt even more than she imagined. She hadn’t thought it could get worse than it already had, but hearing about how even Heather and Alex had felt the effects of the blow up put the final dagger in her, both having hundreds of follow requests as well, for no reason except being the sisters of Natalie Marton, Chris’ fling. 

She pushed aside those feelings however, determined to enjoy the evening at home, finally. And she did – she enjoyed walking into her childhood home, into the comforting and warm arms of her father, and hugging her brother-in-laws and getting tackled by her nieces and nephew. But all throughout dinner and until after the kids went to bed, her eyes kept getting drawn to her phone, hoping for something from Chris, something that said this was just a nightmare, or a horrible misunderstanding.

Nat thought she’d disguised her emotions well enough behind the genuine excitement of finally being home, but her cover was blown once she finally ignored and walked away her phone while she helped her father with the dishes while Heather, Ryan, Alex, and Zach were busy getting the kids down for bed and cleaning up the backyard.

“I’m so glad you were able to come, Nattie,” her father murmured, his voice hardly audible over the running water from the sink as he washed dishes before handing them, one by one, to Nat for her to dry and put away. “We love it when you’re around.” 

“I do too,” she agreed, knowing just how much being with her family had made this better and having people who loved her so deeply brought comfort to her. Nat kept her eyes on the plate she was wiping, letting out a soft sigh before telling him, “It was nice to have my mind off of… everything.” 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him give her a long glance before finally asking,“You want to fill me in on what’s going on, honey?”

Nat rolled her eyes, feeling the anxiety inside of her rise as she told him, “I’m sure Heather and Alex already have, considering the nonstop texts I’ve got from them all day yesterday.”

But Eric simply shut the sink off, turning as he dried his hands with a dish towel and leaned the small of his back against the sink as he looked at her. “They told me that there was a picture online, but that doesn’t tell me how you’re feeling and that’s what I’m concerned about.”

“I just can’t wrap my head around it. I was having a normal day at work and then suddenly everything turned upside down because of one stupid picture where Chris had his arm around me,” Nat still didn’t understand the reality of this all, all the fear and anxiety spilling over as her voice rose and she tossed a hand in the air. 

Her father shook his head, muttering, “I can’t imagine what it must be like for Chris to always have to be looking over his shoulder.”

“Now I feel like I do too,” Nat admitted quietly, swallowing nervously as tears threatened to burn her eyes. “I mean, I’m nobody and yet I have thousands and thousands of his fans requesting to follow me.”

“What did Chris say about all of this?”

At just one mention of his name and the memory of that hurtful conversation that was only one day ago, tears sprung to her eyes as she thought back to his cold tone and swallowed hard, “… That was the worst part.” 

“Here, let’s sit down and tell me what’s going on,” Eric could see the emotions passing over her face and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, leading his youngest daughter over to the kitchen table. He pulled out a chair for her that Nat ungracefully plopped into before he sat down across from her and instantly reached a hand across the wood table top to hold one of her hands in his. 

“Dad, I was so freaked out,” Nat confessed with a shaky voice, trying to blink away the tears unsuccessfully before they slipped down her cheeks. “I mean, I got blindsided by this and Chris and I aren’t even officially together or anything but he called me and just gave me a laundry list from his publicist of what I can and can’t do.”

“Oh really?”

“Can you imagine how that made me feel? I was so terrified and all he wanted to say was that I had to make sure to keep everything private and don’t say a word about it to people I’m not close with,” the words just came pouring out of her mouth, finally having an opportunity to fully process and express her feelings. Nat ran a hand through her messy curls before admitting, “I felt like he couldn’t care less how I was doing.”

“Did you tell him that?” Eric tried to prod as he looked right into her eyes. 

“Yeah,” she shrugged. But Nat knew it didn’t seem to matter because even when she had told him, he had been less than understanding, but in an attempt to give her father a whole picture of the situation she filled him in that, “He just said trying to fix it was because he cared about me.”

“I’m sure he was,” Eric nodded. 

“I get people don’t always react the best in the moment. I know I wasn’t thinking the most clearly but I…” Nat had to stop for a moment to swallow the lump in her throat, going on with, “I told him I just needed time to think and he basically called off coming back to LA and said he’ll maybe see me later which felt like a big fuck you.”

When Nat saw the way her dad’s eyes arched in sympathy, she knew that it probably wasn’t good and it only caused the knot in her stomach to tighten. The tears filling her eyes just didn’t seem to stop and when Alex came walking into the room, she knew that her sister saw them by the way she stopped short. Nat didn’t say a word as Alex walked over, just putting an arm around her and giving her a soft squeeze before saying, “You left your phone outside and it was ringing.” 

And with that and a soft kiss on the top of her head, Alex left the pair the way they were a minute ago as they sat in the soft light of the kitchen. Nat tapped on the screen and instantly felt her heart drop when she saw that name on her screen, and her father must have known too based on the way he asked, “Is it Chris?” 

“Yeah… he um, left me a voicemail,” she whispered, eyes frozen on her phone, thumb hovering anxiously between the play and delete buttons. 

Eric was quiet, nodding more to himself than to Nat as he took a sip from the glass of water resting on the table next to him. “Maybe you should listen to it,” he finally suggested. 

Part of Nat didn’t want to. She was afraid of what might be waiting for her on the other end of the line. She should have known from day one that there was no way any of this… this connection they seemed to have would go anywhere but then somehow it seemed to. Nat had tricked herself into believing it all would somehow be okay until that bubble was popped yesterday. She got hit with the reminder that this couldn’t be and somehow it felt like it would be easier if it could just slip away, but it looked like she wasn’t going to get out of it without hearing what he decided she needed to hear. 

With a shaky hand, she turned the volume up and clicked play, hearing that husky voice of his start talking, “Hey…. It's me. Nat, I’ve been such an idiot. I handled all of this like shit and I just want to tell you how sorry I am. I couldn’t believe how much this blew up and I knew it wouldn’t be anything you were prepared for so I think I just wanted to solve it and have a plan to make it all better, but in doing that, I missed out on the most important thing which is you.” Nat kept listening to the voicemail as the line paused for a minute, hearing his soft sigh before he continued, “I kind of um, wanted to be able to say this right to you, but I get you need space and I respect that. I just want you to know that I’m sorry, Nattie. I’m so, so, sorry.” 

She was quiet as she listened to his last deep breath before he had hung up, tears freely falling from her eyes as she processed what had just been said. She almost forgot that her father was sitting just across the table from her until he tilted his head, looking at her in concern as he whispered, “Nattie…”

“Dad, what am I going to do? How do I figure any of this out?” Nat’s voice crackled as she practically begged him for any answers. “This is not anything I thought I’d ever have to deal with.”

“Times like this I wish your mom was here,” her dad’s voice was soft as he lightly shook his head, remembering, “She always knew what to say.”

“I just don’t know what I should do…” 

“Nattie, I don’t know that I’m always the wisest person or have all the right answers,” she could see just how uneasy her dad was, knowing that he was doing everything in his power to be there for Nat in the way she needed in this moment. 

“I’d really like to know what you think, Dad,” Nat insisted, knowing that Eric was never one to tell anyone what to do, but she needed his guidance, explaining, “I’m so confused.”

Eric reached out, taking Nat’s hand again and squeezing it softly as he gave her a sad smile. “All I know Nattie is that you get that sparkle in your eye when you talk about him. And that from even just those few moments when he came while we were having lunch in California, I could tell by the way he looked at you just how deeply he cared for you,” he told her, and Nat let out a deep breath as she realized she agreed with him. Chris did care for her, hell she cared for him more than she thought was ever possible, but she also had never been here before, never had to consider anything more than updating her Facebook status as a relationship grew and changed. 

“I know he does… I know he means what he said in that voicemail,” Nat knew there was no way she could deny that what Chris had expressed to her was anything less than authentic. But she finally gave voice to her underlying fears, “I just don’t know if it’s enough… if I can deal with everything that comes with him and his life.”

“I don’t have an answer to that, honey,” Eric was honest, a hand motioning vaguely in the air before he told her, “But I think you’re in too deep for him not to find out for sure.”

“… I’m really crazy about him, dad,” the emotions inside of Nat feeling so heavy and deep, knowing that what she felt for Chris wasn’t something she’d be able to walk away from so easily and admitted, “I don’t want things to slip away as easy as they seemed to on the phone when we talked.”

“Give him a call, Nattie.”

“I don’t know… it’s late… he’s probably asleep,” Nat muttered, knowing that he might not even be up yet, or could be in the middle of filming, but more so finding an excuse to shield her feelings from any further damage. 

“Just call him,” Eric murmured again, a sideways grin on his face as he nodded resolutely. “Trust me.”

She felt him give her hand a soft squeeze before Nat nodded, silently agreeing before she used the sleeve of her sweatshirt to wipe away her tears. Eric pulled Nat in for a long hug before they were interrupted by her elder sisters coming in with both their husbands behind them, carrying in the last few things from outside and filling the kitchen with their loud chatter. While the chaos was happening as everyone filled the kitchen, Nat was the only one who saw the little wink Eric gave her, encouraging Nat to slip out of the kitchen unnoticed and walk up the stairs and down to the end of the long hallway where her childhood room still was. 

Nat closed the door behind her before going to sit on the full-size bed, hearing the soft creak as she put her weight on it. She just sat there for a long moment, staring at the phone in her hands as she wondered what she should do… What should she say? Maybe this was something that should wait, she thought to herself. Nat’s brain kept filtering through every excuse in the book before impulsively hitting the call button. 

It only rang a few times, enough that she was sure it’d go to voicemail and she’d be spared from having to face him, but soon his gruff, sleepy voice answered, “Nattie?” 

“Shit, you were sleeping weren’t you?” She swore, frowning as she shut her eyes. Nat kicked off her flip flops, moving her legs onto the bed and leaned her back against the pale yellow wall. “I knew I shouldn’t have called.” 

But his voice sounded much more awake than it had only a few seconds ago when he explained, “No, no. I was just dozing.” 

Nat nodded to herself, staring down at the worn quilt as she picked at a loose thread on it restlessly. “I just wanted to call you and tell you that I’m sorry,” she finally whispered, pausing for a moment as she felt unable to help but listen to every sound that left his lips, no matter how small. “I’m really sorry, Chris.” 

“Are you kidding me? What do you have to apologize for?” He asked, his voice quiet but incredulous. “I was the one who was an ass, Nattie.” 

She frowned, listening to him but insisting, “I don’t feel like I handled any of this well at all.” 

“Why should you? You were blindsided and not at all equipped for any of this,” he explained, and Nat felt relieved that he finally saw how she’d been feeling throughout all of this. “And instead of helping, I just made everything fuckin’ worse and I can’t tell you how sorry I am for that.” 

Tears filled her eyes as relief flooded her, and it was then that she knew that they’d make it out of this, out of this nightmare that’d been consuming them. It wasn’t something she’d ever entertained happening – them pushing through it together – because it just seemed so final and absolute, the way they’d left things, but they’d come together and began picking up the pieces as a pair instead of broken individuals. “...I’m just scared and I miss you,” she admitted, her voice cracking as tears slipped down her cheeks.  

“I miss you too, I’m so sorry baby,” his voice was low and tender and Nat could almost see him shaking his head before he told her, “I wish I could make it up to you.” 

“Your apology was more than enough,” she told him, shaking her head to herself as she listened to the sound of him breathing, aching to be there next to him. “But… you could still take me out to dinner when you come back if you’re available.” 

Chris’ voice was stronger, no room for question as he told her, “When I come back from Europe, I’m spending a couple days at home to shake off the jet lag and get Dodger, and then I’m flying straight out to see you.” 

She bit her lip as a smile spread across her face, feeling some butterflies in her stomach as she whispered, “I think that sounds really good.” 

“I do too, Nattie,” he whispered back, a smile evident in his own voice before he yawned. “I’ll see you soon.” 

Even as the call ended, the smile that was on her lips stayed put as she realized that she would - finally - see him soon. That mental countdown she’d had for a month now was moving closer and closer to the end with every passing moment, and she fell asleep with a smile on her face as she thought about tomorrow, about her niece Ella’s birthday party, but also about how she’d be one day closer to being back in his arms again. 

A/N: We hope this made up for everything! We can't wait to hear what you all think! Please feel free to send in an ask or leave a comment!

[beebotea]

hey, are you listening? — part 03

pairing : college au!xiao x f!reader . summary : in which uni students decipher vague tweets and emotions... + ie: second-year students y/n and xiao are forced to work through their term project (and feelings) as their friends attempt to meddle with their love lives ‘for the greater good’ . cw : swearing, slut-shaming, suggestive, reader she/her pronouns, alcohol, mentions of substance use .

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03. into the night

act 1, scene 1

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act 1, scene 2

Y/N watched as Xiao stood up from the table and excused himself from the conversation. It wasn’t long until Hu Tao & Venti and Yanfei & Heizou began their own respective conversations, leaving Y/N and Scaramouche to sit there in silence.

“Oh, um… is he alright?” Y/N said, as she watched Scaramouche finish sending a text from his phone.

The Inazuman ruffled his hair in slight frustration before setting his phone down. “Oh, Xiao? He said he was going to the washroom. I’m sure it’s nothing. He’s not great with big crowds unless he’s on stage with his bass.”

“I see… I thought he didn’t really like me or something…”

“Yeah, ‘or something.’”

“What?”

“What?”

Y/N took a second to take in his appearance. Delicate and soft features carefully defined and enhance by his red eyeliner and the way his fringe framed his face. He was a very pretty young man… it seemed to run in the family considering Xiao was quite easy on the eyes as well, although quite intimidating.

“So are you done admiring me yet, or…” He seemed to catch on to her spacing out, smirking at her as he spoke up.

“Oh… sorry I didn’t mean to stare.” She looked away, feeling her cheeks heat up from being caught red handed.

“It’s fine. You wanna grab a drink with me at the bar over there?”

“Oh, sure alright.” Y/N accepted his extended hand. Scaramouche helped her out of her chair, before promptly letting go when she got to her feet.

“So, how come I’ve never seen you around campus until now? It seems we have a lot of friends in common.”

“Oh, I mean I guess I only really know Aether, Childe, Cyno and maybe Heizou from your side… it’s more like we have friends of friends in common. I’m not in too many extra-curriculars either.”

“Yeah I suppose that’s true. You’re in marketing right? How’s that going for you.”

“It’s fine, I suppose it’d be a lot simpler than Mechatronics Engineering…”

“Eh, maybe. But they’re totally different so I wouldn’t try to make a comparison.” He smiled at her.

“I’m not going to lie… you’re a lot nicer than I expected.”

“Really? What makes you say that? You thought I’d be more like Xiao or something?” He raised his eyebrow curiously at her.

“No, well yes but not entirely. My friend Mona didn’t seem to excited when she saw you and Childe show up so I just got the impression you wouldn’t be so fun to talk to.”

“Is that so? Did she tell you why?”

Y/N shook her head in response and tilting her head to urge him to continue.

“Hah, we’ll do I have a story to tell you.”

“Please, do tell.”

Before Scaramouche could continue, he received slew of notifications. “Oh, sorry one second,” he pulled out his phone to respond to whoever was bombarding him with messages. Shortly after, he slipped his phone back into his pocked and looked back at her to continue where he left off.

“Sorry about that, where was I… oh right. I went to a Snezhnayan private high school for the first three years. So in my third year, Childe and I were on the soccer team and we were playing against Monstadt City Academy. She was on the cheer squad for their school or whatever and there was like a small problem with their formation or something. Anyways, long story short, she fell off their pyramid right as a break was called and Childe and I almost pissed ourselves laughing at her.”

“No way!”

“Yep, it happened. You can even ask her, although I probably wouldn’t want to be there to see you get scolded… she’s quite the prideful one.”

“Yeah… I think I’ll just take your word on it then.” The two laughed together about the memory of the great Mona Megistus falling on her ass. “You must be really good at soccer then. Are you on our Uni’s team?”

“Oh yeah, all of our band members play together often after practices. We’re all on the team. The season is over now but you should definitely come watch our games next year. Who knows maybe Xiao will finally talk to you then.” He smirked at her and nudged her with his elbow.

He was met with widened eyes and incomprehensible stammering. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you trying to talk to him~ Too bad… I was hoping I’d be the one to catch your eye. Oh look, speak of the devil himself.”

Y/N looked into the direction he nodded at and saw Aether, Kazuha and Xiao approaching.

“Hey, Y/N! Having fun? This is Kazuha, our band mate and you already know Xiao.” The male twin waved at her as the three joined their group of two.

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” Kazuha smiled as he extended and arm to shake her hand. “So what are we talking about?”

“Oh, you know, we were talking about how Y/N—ow.” Y/N elbowed Scaramouche in the side to stop his teasing before it got out of hand.

“Soccer! Scaramouche was telling me about how you guys are on the soccer team!”

“Yeah, we are!” Aether explained how Scara and Heizou played forward, Xiao and Kazuha often took up the midfield, while he and Venti usually played as part of their defense or goalie. “Some of other guys in our friend group, like Cyno and Childe, are on the team too,” Aether continued.

“Well recently Xiao has been playing forward, right?” Kazuha spoke up, patting the black and teal haired man on the shoulder to encourage him.

“Yeah, strikers are usually the fastest on the team. It’s just that I’m bad at aiming it into the net…” Xiao shyly chuckled at himself. It was a first for Y/N to see him smile, or to see any expression on him at all (other than a scowl).

“I’m no expert at soccer but I’m sure you’ll be the a pro w practice right?”

Xiao granted her another smile accompanied by a nod.

Since then, the atmosphere in the group began to change. They continued to exchange opinions and ideas during their conversations while also asking each other about their experiences with common friends and acquaintances.

Xiao had even seemed to loosen up a bit after a drink given to him by Kazuha and adding his own short quips.

Eventually, Scaramouche was called back to his table by Venti. Not long after, Aether and Kazuha also returned to their table after witnessing Xiao ask a whole conversation-starting question on his own, leaving Y/N alone with him for the first time that night. Luckily, the alcohol in their blood made it significantly easier for the two to speak to each other and loosen up even when they were left alone.

“Sorry for being a bit… uptight earlier this evening. I was kind of nervous coming to this party.”

“No worries, I get like that too sometimes. Meeting new people can be overwhelming, right?”

“Yeah… especially when they look like you.”

“What?”

“Oh I… I didn’t mean to say that our loud—like I meant—”

“I think you look great too, Xiao.”

Before Xiao could respond, Y/N got a call from Hu Tao, who was outside with Yanfei, preparing to leave.

“Sorry, I have to go now… I’ll see you in class on Tuesday! It was really nice finally being able to get to know you. Bye!”

“Yeah, no worries. You too… bye.”

He watched as she ran to their table to grab her things before hurriedly waving to everyone and made her way to the door. He was starting to wish the night was longer… or that he drank the alcohol earlier that evening.

—

act 2, scene 1

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a/n: lots of words mb… hope you enjoyed!

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taglist  —

@ashhh-14​  @sanghyuksgasolinestationscream​

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[globelover98]

Once, a friend invited over to their house for dinner along with a few other friends. We all showed up and started chatting in the living room while dinner was cooking. During the conversation, his roommate starts talking about her gluten allergy and how dinner, which was pasta, was going to affect her, but was delicious and therefore worth it. She starts describing how eating pasta makes her so bloated that she looks pregnant and, right in the middle of her description, suddenly stops and looks at me saying, "Are you looking at my belly?"

I didn't think I was, maybe a glance, but I was startled at being called out like that and of course denied it, to which she moved on and continued. Later, before dinner, I notice I had received a text from her. The text said, "How much should I eat for dinner?" I was on edge as I didn't know if or how she knew what I liked as I had not told anyone she knew and was nervous about being exposed, but this seemed like an opportunity. Trying to remain vague, I simply replied, "Impress me."

I saw her check her phone and then she made eye contact with me before saying out loud to everyone, "I'm starving guys, I might eat all the pasta myself and leave you all with nothing if you're not quick." As dinner was finished, she proceeded to serve herself a huge plate of pasta and devour it, then a second plate just as big, then a third. I was truly impressed, but she remained pretty quiet during and after dinner, not drawing any extra attention to the subject. I thought perhaps it was nothing and I was just reading into it too much. Shortly after dinner myself and my other friends that I had carpooled with said goodbye and left for home.

As I sat in the backseat of the car alone and disappointed that nothing came of this girl's teasing me with her belly, I got another text and checked my phone. It was from her. It read, "I'm so full I think I'm going to be sick or explode. Do I look pregnant enough for you to let me come over?" Along with the text was a picture, a standard bathroom selfie of her standing in profile with her shirt pulled up and tucked into her bra, her pants unbuttoned, and her hand cradling a massively bloated belly. She really did look genuinely pregnant. Of course I said she could come over.

Shortly after I was dropped off at home and had settled in, there was a knock at the door and I answered it. It was her and she stepped inside wearing a coat as it was cold out. She took off her coat and handed it to me, revealing her pants were still unbuttoned and she had changed into a tight t-shirt that rode up and left her swollen belly exposed. She rubbed her bare belly and very deliberately waddled over to my couch before slowly sitting down. She put her hands on her belly and said something along the lines of, "I almost couldn't make it to your door because this belly is so heavy. What do you think?" I was stunned by this woman I barely knew showing up and playing into my preferences without my telling her about them so I didn't really know what to think. I told her it looked good on her, but what did she want me to do. She got up and waddled over to me, pressing her belly against me so I could feel how tightly stuffed it was and said, "Do you think you can help me feel better?" As she pressed into me, a loud belch forced itself out of her and she slapped her hand over her mouth in shock, her eyes going wide. "Oh my god, I didn't mean to do that!" She shouted. What she didn't know was that was the part that pushed me over the edge of not caring why she was doing what she was doing and I pulled her in right after. It was a fun night.