#and drenched like an old wet dog | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

abiiors · 8 months ago

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persephone - matty x reader ˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧💌˚.⋆🌿

a/n: this is kinda loosely based on the myth of persephone and also this is just one interpretation of it, obv several exists in the media :) and like matty's barely hades lmao, this is mostly just the connection of persephone, demeter and spring ♡ cw: this contains themes of parental neglect, dysfunctional families, emotional abuse/neglect and alcoholism, and they're very much PRESENT and DETAILED. this isn't angst but it's def bittersweet (emphasis on the bitter whoops) wc: 5.1k

the first word she learns is “mama”.

she has a faint memory of this—a woman with shining brown hair, smiling and cheering at her. everything is blurred around the edges and filtered in through a haze. everything has a foggy white quality to it but the woman’s eyes are crystal clear and looking at her, focused solely on her. she has a memory of others laughing and clapping along, encouraging her to say the word again and again.

mama.

the brown haired woman looks tired—she’s young and, looking back, barely even an adult. but the woman smiles at her and coos along. “mama,” the woman says in an exaggerated baby voice and points to herself.

“mama,” she babbles again at the woman she now recognises as her mother. the woman gives her a bland smile, playing with her almost absently. the woman even lets her grab onto her fingers and bite on them—not that it counts much as biting, she barely has teeth at this point.

the next memory she has is of an older man with a freckled happy face and salt-n-pepper hair. he throws her up in the air and catches her until she’s giggling and breathless and light as air. he's often at their dining table, peeling pomegranates.

mama says she can't eat them yet—they're of course a choking hazard for a baby her age. but the old man peals it for mama, because mama looks happy when she sits next to him and pops the seeds into her mouth, sighing at the sweetness.

“these are delicious, daddy,” mama says to him and he smiles at mama with all the tenderness in the world.

when mama needs a break from her, he takes her to the nearby pond, and lets her touch leaves and rocks. he points at the tiny things in the water and says a word she barely recognises.

fishies.

he clicks his tongue and waits for her to imitate the word, but she only claps her hands and says “mama” again.

the man laughs. “let’s get you home to mama then.”

the younger woman gets mad at him when they get home though. mama grabs all the treasure—their entire day’s hard work—and puts it away somewhere where she can never reach it again.

the man grumbles about it too but she’s far too young yet to understand words and tone, much less full blown fights. all she knows is a distinct sharp feeling of fear when mama snatches her away from the old man’s hands and puts her away in a room alone.

there are white bars around her that she can’t climb, even though she cries and cries and screams for mama. even when a pungent smell fills the room and she feels uncomfortable wetness in her onesie.

but mama doesn’t come. and the old man’s voice can’t reach her anymore. there’s only the sound of her cries and an eerie music box lullaby that plays on repeat as if it would ever be enough to pacify her.

mama doesn’t come for hours.

years later, she’d know why mama can’t be bothered.

the last time she calls her mother “mama” is when she’s seven years old.

it’s rained all night and the backyard is wet and muddy. mama grimaces the moment she looks out the window but for a seven year old girl, it’s the most fun thing to ever exist. mama makes a sound of disgust when she runs outside, whooping with joy and slipping and sliding in the mud.

all she wishes for is a companion now—a sibling or a dog or a cat, she’s not picky. a friend works too, but she’s not entirely sure where someone gets those.

“if you get mud on my carpets, i swear!” mama shakes her fist from the back door but she can’t care less.

she’s drenched in mud and having way more fun than she’s had in days. so much so that she doesn’t even realise when mama shakes her head and goes back inside.

the winter chill is almost gone, there’s even a few little saplings sprouting from the ground and she can’t wait for the whole backyard to be filled with weird little weeds and wallflowers. she can’t wait until it’s warm enough to sit outside in the afternoons and make her little witchy potions from mud and weeds and flowers and see if any butterflies would be curious enough to land near her. (or maybe even on her like they do in the movies she’s seen!)

she forgets the movies for a moment, though. today is the best day a girl could have.

her grampy—her grandpa—is supposed to visit too, and she knows he’s going to bring treats; sweet honey from the hive on their farm or tiny red strawberries that dribble juice down her chin. she knows he’ll sit in their kitchen and peel her a pomegranate (she can eat those now!) and tell her about the new calf on the farm. (she’s asked this story twice now but it only gets better each time) it’s all so exciting that she even forgets about her aversion to the kitchen for a bit, forgets how a pit opens in her stomach every time she has to be in the kitchen with mama.

she can’t wait for the after, but right now she runs through her backyard again, whooping and cheering and smiling.

she’s slipping and slipping, just like before. the fence comes closer, her little mind tries to calculate the distance, her feet try to slow down but the mud’s grown too slippery and she just can’t stop, can’t put her arms up in time.

her jaw collides with the fence with a sickening crunch. pain flares in her mouth along with the sharp coppery taste of blood. it almost makes her gag and she tries to spit it out. something white falls on the ground, covered in blood—her first tooth, the one that’s been loosening for days.

she stays curled on the ground, covered in mud, sobbing and spitting out more blood until her saliva runs clear, then she somehow shuffles inside, hoping mama would have a magic fix.

mama’s eyes widen the moment she walks in, dried mud crusted around her feet, blood on her chin.

“what the fuck?!” mama yells, the glass in her hand jostles dangerously and the dark liquid inside almost splashes out. mama’s words also have an unnerving, slurred quality to them but she’s too much in pain to care.

“what’s wrong with you?!” mama screeches again and gets up. through tears, she manages to splutter out what happened. she shows mama the tooth, (girls in school have told her about the tooth fairy) but mama only smacks her hand away.

“i told you not to get mud on my carpets. who’s going to clean them huh? not you, you’re useless. you’re all useless.”

more tears fall on her cheeks and she looks at mama, horrified. but mama slams the glass hard enough on the table that a crack goes through it. she’s worried mama’s going to yell at her more, but mama only yanks the mop from the corner and waits for her to move out the way.

she takes the hint, grateful it didn’t get worse. she tries not to get the mud onto anything else but a little gets on the bathroom tiles anyway.

under the hot water, she finally lets her sobs free and scrubs her little body until the skin is all red and raw and stings from the temperature of the water. until each stream of the showerhead feels like a bb bullet.

then she gets on her hands and knees and scrubs the bathroom floor clean, occasionally flicking her tongue over the now-empty spot where the tooth used to be. it tastes vaguely salty, and it still aches but not as much, definitely nothing in comparison to her jaw which is turning a nasty shade of purple. her tooth’s still safe on the counter, though—free of blood and mud now. gleaming white.

at least that’s the saving grace of the day. at least she’ll get a visit from the tooth fairy.

grampy cancels his visit—his knees hurt, mama says—but she tries not to be miffed about it. she’ll make sure to get grampy something nice with the money from the tooth fairy.

that night she gingerly places the tooth on the bed, carefully places the pillow on top so that the tooth is protected from all sides. nice and snug.

then she closes her eyes, dreaming of tiny fluttering wings and shiny pennies. but the tooth fairy never visits at all.

her mum ages rapidly in a decade. by the time she’s seventeen, her mum’s already gone grey—unravelling at the seams, fraying with each passing day. not that anyone’s seen her mum in days. or months even. her mum’s not coherent enough to hang out with people most of the time.

she’s started spending less and less time at home. it helps to have a part time job on top of school—a place that delivers chinese food. a couple guys from her school work there too, not that she really knows a lot of them. except one.

matty.

he’s the one person she’s ever considered a friend.

the one person who’s been worthy of that title.

matty’s all casual smiles and laughs—he flirts shamelessly and kisses people on the cheeks when he gets drunk. he offers her fags and spliffs even though she always denies them. he nicks leftover chinese so they can eat it in his car, giggling and laughing, way prouder of their heist than they should be.

the food tastes better when she’s with him. everything’s better when she’s with him—even the shitty, off-brand beer he keeps buying. with him it tastes like expensive champagne. not that she knows what champagne tastes like to begin with, but she imagines the bubbles settling on her tongue feel like his laugh spilling from his lips. she imagines it tastes like the sparkle in his eyes.

matty looks at her differently too—she’s not stupid, she knows what interest looks like.

she’s been the object of fascination since she turned thirteen and developed boobs seemingly overnight. she shies away from attention most of the time—wears t-shirts twice her size, keeps her hair a bland brown. she barely even looks at boys or men who tell her she looks mature for her age. but when matty looks at her, it’s different.

when matty looks at her, she wants to be seen.

“you sure it’s okay for us to be out so late?” he asks one night when they’re sat in his car. the world around them has already gone quiet—it is a school night after all, she should be in bed too. but she sees the cigarette dangling loosely between his lips and for a second she forgets to respond. matty quirks and eyebrow and she realises she’s been staring at his mouth.

“my mum won’t mind.” her response is a bit curt, but she leaves it at that. there’s no need to mention that her mum’s probably drowning in wine by now, tripping and spilling the liquid onto floors and sofas and carpet.

“she must be chill,” matty hums to himself and takes a drag of his cigarette. she watches him hold it into his lungs, some of it escapes through his nose and curls around his face.

she keeps quiet, unwilling to get into that topic of conversation.

“i’m thinking of dropping out,” matty says quietly once the cigarette turns into a tiny stub. his voice is carefully neutral, monotonous. she whirls to look at him, jaw practically dropping to the (dirty) floor of his car. matty stares straight ahead, trying to look as nonchalant as possible, but the tension in his shoulders gives him away.

images flash in front of her—walking the school corridors alone, eating lunch alone, doing her homework alone. working at her job alone.

alone, alone, alone. no one but her mum around her again. that wretched fucking woman occupying every atom of her existence.

“did you h—”

“i heard you.” her voice has gone quiet now but there’s an edge to it that doesn’t go unnoticed by matty.

“and?”

“and what? if i said no, would that convince you to stay?”

she doesn’t mean to sound so sharp, so bitter. certainly not so selfish. but an ugly feeling bubbles up so deep inside her that all the excitement from before just dies—all the butterflies from just a moment ago, now dead and rotten, making her feel nauseous.

“no but—”

“i don’t want to tell you why it’s irresponsible, matty. frankly, i don’t know if i believe that myself but… it’s… it’s big.”

his face falls further and further the more she speaks. with each word she wants to press a hand to her mouth, wrap it around her throat so it would strangle everything else that’s about to come out. with every word she wants him to tell her to just shut the fuck up, that she doesn’t know what she’s talking about. but matty only looks at her and a different sort of quiet spreads around the car.

“you think this… this thing you’ve got going on. music. you think that’s enough?! you play for fucking retirement homes, matty! you play for old people who probably won’t even remember what they heard twenty minutes later. and you want to–what? you want to leave your education incomplete? you want to leave a-levels and school and your job? you just want to…leave?”

which is the real problem.

he gets the luxury of leaving.

she gets the misery of staying.

“thanks,” he says dryly, trying to roll his eyes. she catches the extra shine they now have, she catches the way his throat bobs. and suddenly the car is so stifling she can’t stand it anymore—can’t stand the taste of the nasty, cheap beer and the too-salty, too-greasy chinese they’re eating and she can’t stand the cliche, indie rock music playing at low volume.

she can’t stand him anymore.

“i need to go,” she says curtly, wiping her hands on her jeans and already halfway out the door when matty grabs her wrist.

“wait—”

“what.”

“n-nothing.” it’s the first time she’s heard him stutter, first time he’s ever said something without sounding completely sure of himself. “let me just drop you home.”

it’s also the first time he’s offered to do that.

“i have my bike.” besides there’s no need for you to see the state of the house right now, no need to come across that belligerent woman in case she’s still conscious.

“it’s late.”

she can’t really argue with that logic. it is almost 11 at night and she might not live in a very shady neighbourhood but it’s still not the safest at this time of the night. still, she doesn’t want matty driving her around and dropping her home. that feels too vulnerable. besides, she just wants to be away from him.

he’s leaving anyway, she might as well start practising that from now on.

“i’ll text you when you get home,” she mumbles and forces her wrist out of his hand.

she��s out of the car and slamming the door shut before he can even protest. she’s marching across the empty road and to her bike before the absence of his warmth registers, before her body realises that she can no longer feel his skin against hers.

before she really has a chance to let anything sink in.

matty honks and she hisses.

“what!”

“i’m following you home.” and then the little shit rolls up the window.

she has half a mind to stubbornly wait him out, see how long he stays if she just refused to move but that’s a stupid plan. like it or not, it’s happening. he’s following her home.

like it or not, she’s going to have to let him.

“i’ll only accept your apology on one condition.”

it’s two days later that they’re back in his car—her with a guilty conscience, matty with a smug smile.

“ugh, if you’re about to be a boy about it!”

“you haven’t even heard me out yet!”

the pit in her stomach shifts, the hollow cavity catching in her throat until she has to forcefully clear her throat and blink rapidly. it’s not that she’s completely forgiven him for wanting to leave, she hasn’t completely given up on that yet either. but she realises the way she went about it was perhaps…a bit shitty (okay it was definitely a lot shitty)

“spring dance”

“what?!”

the words jerk her out of her thoughts so violently that she almost forget about everything else for a second. the spring fucking dance.

matty healy, the boy who nicks chinese food and drinks cheap beer and wears ripped, skinny jeans wants to go to the spring dance.

“right don’t look at me like i’ve asked you out to a strip club—”

“that’d be more in character—”

“oi! just… let me speak!”

and so she shuts up, puts her hands under her thighs so she won’t impulsively chew on her nails while her crush is…trying to ask her out.

matty rolls his eyes at her and the fond smile on his face takes her breath away.

“i want to do it. i want one last cheesy school experience before i…” he trails off, maybe not wanting to finish that sentence for her sake. or maybe because it affects him more than she thinks. “and i want to do it with you.”

“me? ooh like i’m special or something.” she tries for it to be teasing and playful, but the words come out sounding so hopeful that it knocks the breath out of her.

“don’t pretend,” matty’s voice goes all quiet then. serious too, and suddenly he can’t meet her eyes. “don’t pretend like you don’t see it.”

“see what…”

there’s a lot in her life that she pretends not to see—half the things at home, sometimes her failing marks, sometimes the way other people look at her and whisper. but he is the one person she can’t pretend with. can’t pretend to not see the way he looks at her and acts around her. can’t pretend to not notice the way his touches linger and his smiles last longer.

even now, she can’t pretend like he’s not looking right at her lips, leaning in a smidge at a time. wishing she’d close the gap.

involuntarily, her eyes flutter shut. anticipating.

she wants to feel it so fucking bad—his hands on her waist, his fingers on her skin. she wants to feel his faint stubble against the palm of her hand, his lips on hers. most of all she just wants to feel him close, to feel his breath on her skin.

matty jerks away and a loud horn of a car breaks the spell.

“fucking dicks!” matty rolls the window down and yells at the retreating figure of teenagers in a car, one of them even flips him off and next to him she seethes.

fuck this, fuck everything. why can’t she just have nice things.

why must someone come and ruin it every time.

it takes them both a minute to breathe and settle down and meet each other’s eyes again. even then there’s a slight pink tinge on his face that makes him look adorable.

“sorry about that…” matty mumbles and taps his fingers against the steering wheel. “so…spring dance?”

“i’d love that.”

she hopes the smile she gives him is genuine. she hopes he sees it plain and simple all over her face—all the words she hasn’t said and cannot say.

matty smiles wide. “then i forgive you.”

and it’s like a weight gets lifted off her chest.

“you look pretty,” her mum’s eyes roam over her body, eyeing her from head to toe, flicking over certain places again and again until she almost feels naked—like the blush pink fabric doesn’t even exist. like her mum sees right through her.

years of this has taught her that it’s not a compliment. if anything, it’s just another trap, so she focuses on her reflection in the mirror and smiles with as much warmth as she can muster. “thanks!”

her mum reeks of wine already, maybe even a little weed but it’s nearly not enough today which is surprising. she would have expected her mum to be at some bar by now.

“i’ll be a bit late. don’t worry i have my keys though.”

then she scoffs to herself. when has her mum ever worried?

“who’s taking you? to the dance.”

“wha–? oh. uh, just a few friends. only met them recently.” she winces, trying to get the last of the curls in place, trying not to be too cagey in front of her mum. she doesn’t want her mum to think she’s hiding something—mostly because it never ends well, and she can’t be arsed to deal with another screaming match right now. not when there’s a ball of anxiety and anticipation in her chest, wound so tightly that it’s slowly choking the air out of her lungs.

she just wants to be outside. she just wants matty to see her, to call her pretty and maybe even kiss her.

she just wants this one night with him.

just one.

her mum huffs and stumbles into the room. everything about this woman wants to make her shrink away—the days old stink of sweat and alcohol and cigarettes, the grime under her fingernails, her beady stare…

even when her mum’s fingers twirl around her curl, she fights not to shrink back, to slap her mum’s hand away.

“you look pretty,” her mum repeats. “prettier than i did when i was your age.”

her stomach churns at the cruel edge to those words but her mum isn’t done yet. “huh–not so easy to be pretty with a seven month pregnant belly. like a fucking whale…”

and there it is.

her fault that her mum was robbed off having normal teenage experiences.

“right, mum,” she smiles shakily, “need to get going.”

it’s almost a miracle that her mum doesn’t say anything else. mum just backs away and lets her gather her things. she quickens her pace, heart beating in her throat, hands trembling when she picks up her small purse.

it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay

“don’t spread your legs for that boy.”

she freezes in place, almost out the door.

“wha—”

“act dumb again and i’ll make sure you never see that boy again.”

“mum…” she swallows harshly, prays that the tears pricking her eyes don’t spill down her cheeks. then she nods and books it out of there. better to go before her mum changes her mind.

better to go before leaving becomes impossible.

matty makes her forget all of it.

the moment she sees him, the shakiness in her limbs disappears, her heart thuds in her chest for all the right reasons. he’s in a suit. a fucking suit that makes him look all grown up and handsome but then his unruly curls go all over the place and suddenly she’s laughing with the boy she’s had a crush on.

no matter what he wears and what he looks like, he will always be that boy.

the school auditorium is full of flowers—some fake, some real. all the girls around her look stunning, dressed in colourful pretty gowns. it’s all spring incarnate.

all night he dances effortlessly, twirls so many people around him like he’s friends with everyone. and maybe he is—he’s certainly always been so much more popular than she has. she should be the one leaving.

but she also can’t help but stare. she wonders if he is a daydream, something her lonely mind conjured up during hours filled with boredom or after long, exhausting fights with her mum. and suddenly, he is looking right at her. sweat makes his white shirt stick to his body in the most flattering way possible, makes his sweaty curls fall into his eyes until he can barely see straight.

stop ogling!

“staring is rude, you know?” he walks—no, saunters—over to her. suddenly, there’s not enough air left in the giant school auditorium.

“you’ve been staring too,” she counters. and she’s right. all night she’s caught his long lingering glances that make her feel like she’s coming alive.

like a flower blooming in spring.

“you kinda make it hard not to stare.” so does he, she thinks. but everything, from his half smile to his relaxed posture, tells her not to inflate his ego further. she stifles the faint blush creeping up her face and shakes her head bashfully.

“come on,” he says.

at first, she doesn’t realise what’s happening. then he whisks her away to the dance floor and her shriek of surprise turns into one of delight. she has never danced like this before but that night they dance till her heart pounds in her ears, till she can’t stand straight anymore. then they sway softly, in spite of the rock and roll playing in the background.

“you’re beautiful,” matty smiles at her, sincere and real.

if she discovers anything about herself that early spring night, it would be her love for dancing. it’s a feeling she’s never felt before—something that almost feels like…freedom. it’s foreign at first, all the blood coursing through her body at the speed of lightning. she tries to keep track of how many times she shrieks and laughs and jumps in excitement. all of it until matty picks her up and twirls her around.

round and round until she’s breathless and light as air and fucking free.

somewhere after that, she loses count. at the end of the night, her dress clings to her and matty can’t stop staring. can’t stop letting his eyes roam all over her until he’s grinning himself. his smile is boyish. perfect. and just as she’s getting self-conscious, he pulls her closer.

“you’re fucking perfect, you know that?”

next thing she knows, matty is holding her softly against the wall and kissing her bare neck. he softly caresses her waist through her dress and she shivers against the warm spring breeze. she can feel him shaking too, almost like he’s…nervous to do anything more. to actually kiss her and shatter the moment. she can’t have that, can’t let this moment slip through her fingers.

“kiss me,” she pleads and matty moves in an instant, his warm mouth capturing hers. like he was only waiting for her permission.

his lips are a little chapped. far from perfect and yet electricity zings through her all at once. if it weren’t for the wall, her legs might have given out from under her. she might just be a heap on the floor, surrounded by all the spring flowers.

matty kisses with such reckless abandon that it steals her breath away. kisses her until her heart swells in her chest, ready to burst. her fingers tangle themselves into his hair and she kisses him back with everything in her. she can’t care less about how public this is, there’s only him in this moment.

only the two of them on a warm spring night suspended in this one moment.

she almost whines when matty pulls back. annoyed beyond belief that he’d pull away now.

“mat—”

“it’s late.”

“it’s not!”

“it is, love.” suddenly his voice has gone gentle, almost quiet. matty pulls his old phone out of his pocket (with the screen cracked and all) and holds it in front of her. the screen flashes with 11:17

shit where did all the time go?

matty makes no move to untangle himself from her arms, still pressed against her. in her ead she forms a childlike grudge against his phone. if it weren’t for it, they would have never known what time it was…

“i hate this.” her voice comes out thick with tears and something wet hits her nose. “i don’t want to go, i don’t want you to go. please.” but even then she knows how unfair it is to put him in this situation.

matty’s caresses her cheek, wiping away her tears, smiling at her like she’s the most gentle precious thing in the whole world.

and maybe she is. in his world.

“you’ll finish school too,” he says, voice a low murmur, “and then you have a uni to attend. so much shit to do. god, you’re brilliant enough to get everything you want.”

but it’s you i want. still she doesn’t say it. not just yet.

she nuzzles his palm instead, placing a soft kiss on it. “i hate spring. i wish it was autumn instead. i’d be starting uni at least.”

“and you will,” matty reassures again. “you’re going to do so many things.”

“you won’t be here to see them…”

and there it is, all the things she’s been holding deep inside laid bare. matty looks at her for a long time and smiles sadly. “who said that? i’d find you, we will keep in touch. isn’t spring meant to be about new beginnings and all that? so why don’t we start a pact?”

“that’s a silly idea,” she teases but even then she’s eager to know what he means.

matty ignores it. “stay here for spring and summer, finish school. i’ll find you when autumn comes.”

“you’d really do that?”

“who’s gonna help you move into uni halls huh?”

through tears she laughs. only matty could make it sound so exciting. only matty could make her hate it so much less.

she doesn’t trust herself to speak anymore so she kisses him instead. he tastes like peaches, mint and something sweet. the very first boy she’s ever loved. the boy she will always love.

he’s leaving soon, she knows it. who knows maybe she will wake up tomorrow and he will be gone. she feels all that passes between them and she tries to send all her longing and all her yearning down that bond. for a brief second she is determined to make matty stay through sheer willpower.

but that would be the most selfish thing she’s ever done. and so she smiles and lets him go.

matty might be leaving but she’ll always have this one warm spring night. even as the clock inches towards midnight and a new day threatens to arrive.

for a brief moment she wonders if she can make time stand still. this one moment stretched into eternity.

but the minutes tick by anyway. and tomorrow comes anyway.

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#spring fics #seasons #matty healy x reader #matty healy x you #matty x reader #matty x you

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choso-uncertain · 7 months ago

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Rich boy Choso

Warning: Bsdm, slight voyuerism, rough sex, being a rich man, spoiling, lots of wax play, dining sex?

.Rich boy Choso; you never asked him for a thing, in fact you try not to ask him for anything too expensive. But, Choso wouldn’t be having it and old buy whatever he deemed necessary. Cute dresses, expensive makeup, shoes, and even sex toys. He didn’t car, he would buy it if your eyes even glanced at it. The next day you woke up with it beside you with a loving text message or even a letter.

.Rich boy Choso; it was indeed ‘daddies money’, when it came to you. After all, he is your daddy right? At least that’s his name in your phone, ‘Daddy’ was the caller ID whenever your phone rang. The goofy ass hearts on either side, which secured you weren’t calling your father… He would call you and ask you small questions like, ‘Hey, I’m out at the gucci store. I saw a cute dress that you would like, it’s your favorite color and all… I’m buying, so when you get home, I can watch you put it on and take it off for me in the same night.’ Or ‘I found some wax that smells really good, it would go great on your skin. I’d love to watch it burn you in the best way~’

.Rich boy Choso; It wasn’t just about the money. Oh no, a rich man came with a wealthy kink of bdsm. Tied down in nice ropes he bought with only the finest materials, wax pooled in the middle of your back and thighs. Pussy quivering from the light fingering he did as he poured the wax down on you.

.Rich boy Choso; who bought the finest leather gloves to spank you with. It left you with light bruising and a drenched middle. He bought you a beautiful diamond encrusted necklace that came paired with a nice leash that he walked you around the room with as he praised you for being such a good girl.

.Rich boy Choso; who sat you down in the living room as many butlers came in and showed you different necklaces and jewels. The ones you turned your nose to, he’d simply tell them that it wasn’t up to, ‘his pets likings.’ He’d have a ball showing you out in different dresses and jewels. The ones he liked, he’d dick you down in and bought another. The jewels he liked, were used as a leash that he pulled as he gave you backshots. If they broke, he’d put another on you and continue what he was doing.

.Rich boy Choso; who’d finger you to the high heavens as you moaned and cried for him to keep going. After a long day of drinking and smiling in front of others, now you were on your way home with his hands between your thighs making Lucious noises that made him hard. Once you arrived home, the chauffeur knew best not to open the door for absolutely no reasons. For he’d get a sight of the lady of the house being bent over the seat, ass bruised and cunt shoved full of dick. Wet noises a puddle underneath her from the millions of times she’s came underneath him. Some of the wetness trickling down her stomach to her beast.

.Rich boy Choso; who’d lay you over the dinning table full of fruit, sweets and candles; licking and lapping at your cunt like a dog in heat. Once you’ve came for the second time, he’d grab a candle and run the wax from your pearl decorated neck to your stomach, pulling soft and tight moans from your throat. He loved to watch your expression change as he raised your candle waxed thighs and rub himself against your cunt.

.Rich boy Choso; bought a house by the beach to mercilessly destroy you in. Tied down to the bed, spanking your thighs and whispering to you about how good of a girl you were and how good you made him feel. He’d blind fold you and began pouring warm liquids on your sensitive skin. Moaning and trying to get away from the feeling, only made him giggle. ‘Are you trying to run from me? Silly girl, what’s your purpose of running, when there’s no where to run?”.Rich boy Choso; “what do you want?” That was the question of the day when it came to food. You tried to hide it, but he would always get to you. “Cheese… fries…” he looked at you and smiled, “You got wax on your ass and sure.”

Someone requested this but tumblr is not wanting to work, so here’s another Choso fix, it’s a bit shorttt. Thank you for enjoying the last one and if any writers have the time to help, constructive feedback would be welcomed! Thank you guys and I bid thy Jjk simps and good night and you Choso girlies, a cold pillow and a soft blanket.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #choso x reader #choso smut #choso x female reader #choso my beloved #jujutsu kaisen x reader #smut

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itwasthereaminuteago · 1 year ago

Text

Frank Castle x female reader

Tags/warnings: broken bones, masturbation, slightly bratty pillow princess reader, oral, fingering, penetrative sex.

Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed, thanks 😁

W/c: ~3200

You wished you had a cool backstory, an epic tale that involved maybe saving a dog from being run over by a truck, protecting an old lady from a mugger, or helping stop a horde of ninjas taking over Hell’s Kitchen, but no… the reason that both your wrists and most of your hands were currently wrapped in rigid plaster casts was the result of just being a little bit too tipsy. It wasn’t even really your fault if you dug right into it, it was Karen who had invited you out to Josie’s while Frank was out running rooftops with Matt for the past week or so. You were bored and just wanted to relax and have a bit of fun. It wasn’t fair (or your fault) that you didn’t possess any super senses or were particularly competent in any useful skill other than downing the infamous ‘eel’ (or probably more like ‘worm’) contained in the disturbingly cloudy bottle of tequila in the aforementioned bar, and if the pavement had been uneven (again, not your fault) and you tripped over, flung out your arms to brace yourself and stop yourself from falling right on your face then…

Frank wasn’t impressed. Barely sympathetic when he heard your pained complaints as you sobered up late the next morning, making you wince and swear blind at him as he checked out both your swollen and bruised limbs to confirm, “Yep, you’ve broken em.” he said in a grouchy ‘it’s your own fault’ kinda way. Boo.

Unfortunately, this time your comfort method had backfired spectacularly. You woke up in the middle of the night hornier than you’d been for a long time. The wrong-sized sweatpants were bunched up between the apex of your thighs rubbing against your clit as you tossed and turned in your sleep, the crotch of them was almost drenched with how turned on you were and now you just wanted nothing more than to get off.

You huffed in frustration, you’d gone to bed last night like every other night for the past while, alone. With Frank away until the early morning you usually slung on one of his t-shirts and sometimes a pair of his sweatpants so you could snuggle down to sleep with his scent around you.

You reached down with one hand, slipping your few free fingers under the waistband of the soft fabric to slide them between your slippery folds as you let your knees fall open with a soft sigh. You squirm around as you teased yourself a little, Frank's shirt riding up and exposing your stomach and the undersides of your breasts. You try tweaking and pulling at your nipple while you rubbed your finger over your clit, but no matter which way you try to move, you couldn’t get your arm in the right position.

You reach the other hand down and gather up some of the slick wetness at your entrance before pushing your first two fingers inside. It feels good and you start to moan as you slide them in a little further and speed up the ones that are circling your clit. Or try to. With the knuckles of your fingers almost all covered by the cast you’re not nearly as dexterous, you can't flex your wrist or move them and play with yourself the way you usually do, or the way Frank does…

Shit. Nevermind, you could still fuck yourself, couldn’t you?

All your sex toys are battery powered and all the fucking batteries are dead and you keep forgetting to buy any more, because ‘Frank’s always gonna be there to make sure I’m satisfied, I’m never gonna need another toy again’. The drunken boast you made to Karen a few nights ago not sounding quite so true now…

You shift about trying to reach further with both hands, desperately trying to curl the fingers that are inside and stimulate that spongey spot that nearly always makes you soak Frank’s hand, try to make the tight, fast circles around your swollen clit that have your toes curling. But it’s no use, you can’t reach the angle, you can’t get the speed, you can’t push yourself over that edge that you so desperately wanna fall over.

You have an idea, grabbing Frank’s pillow from next to you, pushing it down between your thighs and squeezing them tightly together as you try to get yourself off by humping it. Again, you creep a bit closer but it's not enough, you can’t finish, you can’t make yourself come.

Thinking about his thick fingers and his talented tongue isn’t helping. Thinking about his perfect, cock ramming into you and splitting you open ISN’T HELPING.

“FUCK!” you almost scream, working your hips, trying to get leverage, probably looking like a dog in heat. You don’t care, you are a bitch in heat, you need to be fucked. Where the fuck was Frank, shouldn't he be back by now?

“God…DAMMIT!!!” you yell as you fling the pillow across the room and go back to trying with your fingers again. Tears are pricking at the corners of your eyes, you just want to have a nice orgasm and go back to sleep and then maybe Frankie will slip into bed beside you and everything will be okay.

You could call him. He had always said ‘only if it’s an emergency.’ Well, this is a fucking emergency Frankie. You reach for your phone, awkwardly holding it in one stiff hand and jabbing the screen with the other. It rings out.

Wait…

You hear a vibrating buzz coming from the next room, He’s left his fucking phone at home.

Vibrating…buzz?

Maybe you could put it in a sock or something and-

No.

BLEEP-BLOOP.

Yes. Its a fucking emergency after all. You get up and retrieve the phone, quickly setting an alarm to go off in the next minute before slipping it inside a clean sock and clambering back into bed, holding it in your hand, pressing it into your clit.. You’re a genius, you think to yourself as the alarm silently goes off and our clit gets buzzed delightfully by the regular rhythmic vibrations. It’s not long until you’re nearing that precipice again, pleasure building and building. You wish you could change the settings to make it faster, make it extra vibratey but it’ll do, it’s fine, it’s good, oh it’s so good, fuck, you’re almost… almost-

You throw the phone and sock across the room to join the pillow in the realm of failed improvised sextoys, groaning as you squeeze your thighs together to try to relieve the persistent ache there.

It stops. You're panting, quickly pulling the phone out of the sock and pressing on the side button, Nothing. You try again… nothing. The battery has only gone and fucking died. You could cry.

Then, there’s the sound of keys in the door lock.

Holy hell your sinful prayers have been answered! He’s home!

You sit up on the bed on your knees, Frank’s ruined sweatpants long discarded on the floor, his shirt too long and draping over your spread thighs as you wait in anticipation for him to come in and take you hard.

He almost stumbles over the pillow and clothes littering the floor. “Aww jesus christ babygirl,” he whispers under his breath, “why is all this shit-” He looks up, realising you’re awake and sitting there staring at him like he’s cake.

He’s quiet, probably not wanting to wake you up thinking you’re fast asleep, not dripping wet and desperately rabid. You listen to him piss, wash his hands, face, and brush his teeth before he makes his way into the bedroom.

“Hey, what’re you still doin’ up?” he asks, leaning across to switch on the bedside lamp.

It’s then he clocks the absolutely wild look in your eyes as you clasp around his arm as best you can.

“Couldn’t sleep. Too horny.” Your staccato response has him raising his brows as you’re still tugging at his arm and trying to get him into bed with you. “I need to come!”

Crinkles appear in his forehead as he tilts his head in confusion. “Why didn’t ya have a lil playtime sweetheart? You know I’m usually not back home till early. ‘Sides you’re usually out cold snorin’ next to me after a couple of orgasms.' he chuckles as your mouth turns downward in a frown.

“Oh yeah, wow, didn’t think of that!" You snark. "I can’t get myself off Frankie,” You hold up your forearms. “i've tried everything! Stupid casts won’t let me and your stupid phone that you left here ran out of battery or it woulda made a half decent vibrator!” you pout.

“Say what now?" Frank starts to laugh. "Oh damn. That’s some shitty karma right there ain’t it honey? Hah!”

You make a growling sound that sounds ridiculous even to your own ears as your pouty face becomes even more extreme. “It’s not funny! I’m actually dying, I need to come and you've gotta help me!”

Frank gently shakes free of your grasp. “Don’t think so sweetie, this is what’s called ‘payback’. A lil lesson in why not to get stinkin’ drunk on wormrot at that fucking dump of a bar.”

“Just ‘cos you don’t know how to have any fun! Big, grouchy, fucking ass! You know you want a piece of this.” you drawl as you turn around baring and shaking your naked ass and glistening pussy at him. “Huh? C’mon Frankie,” you whine, “Fuck me.”

"Now that… that's just rude, baby." Frank shakes his head distractedly as he shrugs off his canvas jacket and sits down on the bed, his back leaning against the wall. "Not gonna ask how it went tonight, if I'm alright? Coulda been injured or somethin'."

You turn your head and look him over. "Are you injured?"

"No." He grabs the scruff of the t-shirt you're wearing and pulls you back against him. “Jesus christ.” he grumbles as you almost fall into his lap. “S’that my shirt?”

"Is that so?" Frank barks out a laugh as he finally cups, kneads and squeezes one of your breasts in his hand making you moan. He grips one of your wrapped up wrists with his other hand. "Sweetheart, this is gonna be an extended lesson, so pay attention."

You nod, sighing as his big hands start to run up your sides, rucking up the fabric and just barely brushing over the sides of your breasts. “Mmn, I was wearing your gray pants too, but I kinda messed them up. In a way, it’s your fault I'm horny so you should really be helping me out.”

You tip your head back so you can see his face, your eyes wide and dark in the low light of the lamp. "Don't need a lesson Frankie, just need your dick, your mouth, your fingers, god- just anything!"

"Nah. You gotta ask nice baby, or you ain't gettin' shit." Frank growls and it sends a shiver through you as he stares you down. You love it when he takes control and gets a little mean and you encourage it. But, you still just want him to take care of you so you change your tactics.

"Okay I won't get stupidly drunk, fall over and break both wrists ever again if you do this for me now!" You grind your ass against the crotch of his jeans and he hmms and places a soft kiss on the side of your neck that only makes your blood run hotter.

"You're a little minx." He counters, unmoving.

"You can do better than that princess."

Your mouth drops open with a degree of mock offense. "I'm in a great deal of distress, you can't leave me like this, it's cruel!"

You huff and he smiles, still waiting patiently for you to break. Fine.

"Pleeeeease Frank," you begin to beg, wriggling in his arms. He lifts his gaze up to the ceiling as if in deep consideration. You're so extremely frustrated, wound so tight, you can't deal with his teasing mood right now.

"Frankiiiie, please, need you…" you keep begging, turning in his arms, pawing at him all pathetic and awkward with your cast wrists, your eyes wide and shining. "Only you can make me feel soooo good, just please, please..?" You pepper soft kisses all over his face and lips until he fixes you with those deep brown eyes. "I'll make it so good for you too," you purr, scratching your nails through the short fuzzy hair at the back of his neck that never fails to make him give in.

"Goddamn… shit. Has Red been givin' you negotiating tips on the sly? Alright sweetheart c'mon," he eases you up off his lap, laying you down on your back and you watch as he reaches behind grabbing the back of his shirt and pulling it off over his head in one movement. When he's kicking off his boots and starts unbuckling his belt you feel the butterflies awaken in your belly, coyly drawing your knees up towards your chest, suddenly so submissive as he strips fully naked and prowls to you. He wrenches your legs open, wasting no time in burying his face between your thighs, tongue dragging right up the very center of your cunt as his strong hands grip your flesh. Your body snaps up off the mattress as he sucks hard at your needy clit, you're trying not to smack your hands off the bed which would potentially cause you even more damage so you settle for clawing at the sheets instead as Frank groans along with you, the vibrations of it pushing deep into your throbbing core as he takes you so quickly all the way up to that sweet edge you've been chasing all night.

His eyes flutter closed at the sensation. Fuck yes, you've got him.

Your eyes shut tight, the back of your head digging into the pillow and your back arching up off the bed as he's utterly relentless in his mission to make you come apart on his tongue. It's not long till he succeeds, you've been ready for it for what feels like hours, giving yourself over as the pure pleasure of an orgasm finally hits you like a truck. You moan loud, likely waking the neighbours as the thick waves of long-awaited bliss judder through your body, whimpering incessantly as he doesn't stop there, kissing your clit as he eases two thick fingers inside your pussy. He curls them, rubbing the sweet spot you were unable to reach, fucking them in and out of you and relishing in your clipped gasping cries as you feel yourself coming all over again in a matter of minutes. It's quick and powerful and Frank palms his crotch as your pussy walls contract around his fingers.

"Fuck yes, god, please just- ahhh!" The sensation of him sliding in and slowly stretching you open, no matter how ready you think you are, always makes your eyes roll back in your skull. And when he's fully sheathed inside as close as you both can be, his forehead resting softly against yours, nothing can ever compare.

You feel him move over you before you open your eyes again, his hips shifting between your legs as they fall open, the head of his cock bumping against your inner thigh as he lifts one of your legs higher to give him access.

"Hey princess," the thick, dark honey of his tone seeps right down into your bones and raises your skin in goosebumps. "You still good, baby? You still want me, huh?" He checks in, holding his cock in his hand and wetting the fat head of it in your copious arousal.

He fills your senses, his solid strength around you, his familiar scent tinged with that of the streets he's been patrolling, mixed with a bit of stale sweat, and the tang of fresh blood from the tiniest split in his lower lip. You stick out your tongue to lick over it, smirking a little as he hisses at the brief sting. Then he presses back, his lips against your lips, his tongue slow, sure and sinful as he kisses you properly and you can't help but melt into it.

"Yeah, there you go," Frank coos as he snaps his hips fast and hard making you whimper. "You gonna give me one more, make it good f'me?"

When he eventually pulls back the look in his eyes is soft, but then he starts to move and it's not gentle. You asked him to fuck you and fuck you is exactly what he's gonna do.

You can only breathe his name as he quickly coaxes you to yet another soaring high. You can't hold onto him the way you're yearning to with your stupid casts in the way, but you try your best, your fingers clawing up his broad back while he ruts into you. He feels so fucking good, always so good, and whether he's tender or brutal with your body his immense love for you is always so clear. He'd do anything for you, even if you are a fucking idiot sometimes.

"Fuuuck, attagirl baby, that's it, y'gonna come f'me?" He has his left arm braced by your shoulder, the other hand with fingers splayed across your throat just where it drives you insane. You didn't think you could after the intensity of the first two orgasms but when you whimper and nod he slides his hand down between your hot bodies to focus his attention on your swollen clit. He knows just the speed and pressure you need along with the way he's fucking his cock in and out of you with long, deep strokes. He swears, low and sexy as you clench and come around him with a high breathy moan, his rhythm rapidly faltering as you bring him to his end too and he unloads inside of you with a gorgeous moan.

"Mmhn… Frankie!" You warn him that you're close as he pushes your thighs back towards your chest, almost folding you in half as he pounds you into the bed.

You stay in each other's arms for a time, until you feel too gross and sticky. Frank helps you have a quick shower without getting your casts wet, bundling you up in a fluffy towel while you sleepily enquire about his evening's exploits. You listen as best you can about the low level gang of assholes that had their asses handed to them by him and Red that night, tracing your fingers gently over his brow where you discover another little cut and bruise you'd hadn't noticed before now.

"Y'told me you weren't injured," you gently scold, your eyes heavy.

"It ain't nothin' big, not like this." He says, tapping your wrist before gently kissing the little scowl off your face with a sly chuckle.

"Yeah okay, thank you, I've learned my lesson, no need to rub it in mister…" you try to stifle your yawn and Frank reaches over to turn off the bedside lamp and cuddles you close to his chest.

"You feelin' better now sweetheart?"

He smiles to himself and kisses the top of your head as your soft snores come as a reply. "G'night princess."

#frank castle x female reader #frank castle smut

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p0ssywhippedcream · 2 years ago

Note

i gotchu on the asks babe percy jackson and water play 😈😈😈 ALSO THE L THING I ASKED FOR WAS SO SO GOOD TYTYTY and one tiny request can i be 💕anon pls 🙏

hey love! really appreciate the ask and i’m happy you liked the L ask however because Percy is officially still a minor, I’m gonna have to make this one SFW.

“Percy, I swear to the gods if you don’t-”

You’re interrupted with a spat of water on your cheek.

“Percy.” You growl, a warning not heeded.

He squirts you again with his water gun.

“If you get any on my calculus, I will have a aneurysm.”

Another splat of water against your face, that’s it.

You stand up so harshly, you chair flies back and you shake your desk. You march over to Percy, who is now giggling nervously and backing up.

You lunge for your boyfriend and he dodges just barely, taking off out the door of his cabin. You’re right behind him, cursing up a bigger storm than Jason could conjure as you chase him.

Percy zeroes in on the lake and steering your pursuit of him towards it. Just as he reaches it and turns around to drench you, you reach him and tackle him backwards.

His focus was entirely on you, allowing his clothes and body to be completely soaked. You wrestle his face underwater, he pushes you and you flip him and so goes it.

At one point, you just start chucking handfuls of mud at him and he’s spraying an endless stream of lake water up your nose. You’re not angry anymore, you just like hitting him splat in the face with mud and watching his legs replace his where his head was as he falls.

He goes under and the deep cleaning of your nostrils stops. You take a breath, waiting for him to emerge and-

You’re tugged back with a splash, the lungful of delicious oxygen instead being a lungful of algae-infested water. You shove him off and sit up, coughing horribly and sputtering colorful language as you wipe your nose.

Percy’s rubbing your back, he clearly didn’t think you’d inhale so much water and he feels pretty guilty.

“You okay?”

You nod through your hacking and when you finally clear your throat, you pull him in. He relaxes, rubs your head and is about to help you up when something wet, chunky and slick slides down the back of his t-shirt.

He jumps away from you, screeching as the mud leaves a snail trail all the way down to his butt and shaking like a dog to get it off him. You’re cackling loudly, pointing like an entertained three-year-old as he struggles.

You two really are a perfect for each other.

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mysouleaten · 1 year ago

Text

raining cats and dogs !

tokyo rev cats x gn! reader

summary ... it only started with [name] taking in two strays when they were driving home from work, it was pouring and the two poor strays were soaked! you couldn't leave them… so you took them in

warnings ... fluff, fluff, fluff

[part two]

it was pouring, pooooourrring!! pouring!

honestly, this was one of the most giant rain storms that has happened this year

it was around six-thirty pm when you got out of work, you worked in two pet shops, one in the morning and one in the afternoon, and then had the evening all to yourself

but the afternoon pet shop hours bled into your evening rest, which meant you had to stay a couple more hours because some brat threw a fit when he couldn't have the specific breed of dog he wanted and the mother wasn't much help either, threatening to call the cops on the pet shop because we had 'poor' customer service...

entitled people really are a pain...

you were stuck in traffic by seven pm and it lasted almost twenty-five minutes! you might have as well brought a pillow and blanket for a nap, and by the time traffic started to ease its way.. the storm had hit at first it was small droplets of rain, then it started to increase, and then finally a nice heavy water fall let down on gods stupid creation called earth

you liked the rain, it was nice and calming, when you weren't getting wet but one thing you didn't like about the rain was when you were driving!! you couldn't see a damn thing especially in the dark streets of tokyo! >:(

god knows if you accidentally hit someone but you wouldn't know! because it's dark as hell out here! even with the bright lights of the city that were being dimmed because of the heavy rain

maybe you would know if you hit someone? because you would obviously feel a bump? or a scream? or a- okay enough of that

you let out a breath when you finally saw your apartment complex

'bright lights tokyo apartment complex'

was the name of your fancy apartment complex, it was nice, spacious, and had a nice view of the city

and another plus was the strays that would walk around, some strays would let you pat them and feed them and others didn't like that all too much but it was still nice seeing them

though you wouldn't be staying for long, you were moving into a house soon. it was much closer to your jobs and it was known to have more strays around there, so that was a plus!

you parked your car near your building and turned off your car and just sat there for a little while, contemplating if you wanted to make a run for the stairs or just sleep in your car until the rain was over.. why? because you didn't bring an umbrella

you kissed your teeth and looked out the window, 'yep still pouring' you thought, you'd hoped the poring rain would decrease after a while but sadly it didn't

you looked around inside your car and let out a long breath "yep, gotta make a run for it" you said

quickly opening your car door and slamming it shut, and running towards the stairs that led you up a floor-to-your-apartment, finally having some shelter that stopped the rain from drenching you even more

you made it halfway up the stairs before hearing a small faint 'meow'

"huh?"

"meoww.."

you made a confused face before looking over the railing and down to see if you could see what was making that sound, you didn't see anything

"curiosity killed the cat," you said to yourself and then started to slowly walk back up the stairs before you again heard the sad cry

you turned your head back and looked out into the car parking lot and then looked down to the bottom of the stairs

"well at least it isn't an old man crying for help... so how bad could this be?" you quietly said, you made your way down the stairs and looked left and right

you heard the sad cry from the cat again in the bushes on the left side of the wide opening, finally making your way all the way down the steps and then crouching down, wiping away the rainwater that was sliding down your face

"meoww.." there it was again

you stood up and walked closer to the wall, crouching beside it to look out into the bushes, there you saw a soggy shoe box with the lid half off of the box leaving whatever is inside open to the heavy rain that was pouring through the leaves of the bush

"meeoww..." hearing the sad cry again made your heart clench

"okay buddy im coming," you said, you stood up from your crouched position next to the concrete wall and quickly reached your arm into the bush to drag the shoe box out, you heard a whimper and a small hiss

"it's ok.. not gonna hurt you" you whispered finally getting the shoe box completely out from the bush and the pouring rain

you sat on the second step of the rain, letting the soggy shoe box have a place on your already-drenched lap

looking into the box you saw two cats, a yellowy-orange cat with stripes and a brownish-pinkish cat

they were curled up next to each other, seeming to keep each other warm

the orangy cat looked up at you with its cyan-blue eyes and blinked a couple of times and then pawed at its face to get rid of the extra moisture of its face

"hey, there buddy lemme get you inside it's cold out here" you quietly said, you didn't want to scare it. the cat didn't seem to protest so you carefully got up with the box in your hands and made your way up the stairs finally

when you got to your apartment door, you reached inside of your pockets to find them empty...

right.. all your belongings are inside your car..

that was in the parking lot...

in the cold pouring rain..

that's great, you had to make another trip in the rain, you most defiantly are gonna catch a cold now

"meow?"

"meow to you too buddy..."

#RCAD!#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev #tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo rev fluff #mikey x reader #takemichi x reader #hinata x reader #baji x reader #draken x reader #tokyo revenger cats #kazutora x reader

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since0202 · 8 months ago

Text

Taking Time—Fifty Four

Home is a person

Word Count: 12,959

Trigger Warning: Mentions of Abortion (I will bracket where it starts and ends in an obvious manner so you can avoid if needed <3).

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Every step home has felt right so far. Maybe it’s just because I’ve been away for so long, but it feels like something has changed or shifted. And as I get closer, that feeling only gets stronger. Now, as I sink into that undeniable warmth, it’s hard to think otherwise at all. Soft, warm breath spans gently across my hair and I reach for the warm body nestled next to me. It must be Paul. How he knew I was here, I’m not sure, but in the halfway point between sleep and wake, I’m not sure of much. The soft body grunts and rolls closer to me, making soft sounds that lull me deeper into sleep. I want it always to be like this: sleepy mornings, just peace, before the sun cracks me open like an egg and burns me from the inside out.

Maya rolled toward the low rumbling groan coupled with that hardy warmth she’d come to know so well when she was home. Paul was so soft. She ran her hands up and down his sides to a pleasant smacking sound coming from his lips. She burrowed closer for warmth, still in that holy toss between dreaming and awake and felt his warm breath flow over her hair. It almost felt wet. Maya inhaled a deep breath savoring his smell only to be met with a warm mildewy scent of dried fur and the forest. He must have only just phased back from rounds and the smell of his wolf form simply clung to him. It didn’t matter. Maya leaned her head up and was met with the his soft, warm, wet lips. Really wet. He kissed and dampened her entire face with his mouth, his tongue.

Maya leaned back and groaned her dissent, but the onslaught kept coming, possibly even more eagerly than before, until her entire face was coated in saliva. Paul really had it coming. Maya’s face twisted into a grimace as she opened her eyes, only to be met with the towering dark frame of Leah’s german shepherd.

“Blegh!” Maya managed before the dog continued with vigor to her dismay. She braced her arms across his chest and tried to push, but the thumping of his tail wagging only seemed to make him stronger as he continue to cover Maya’s face in fervent licks with delight that she was awake.

Maya heard a laugh from the door before Keye said,”Yodel, that’s enough. Come here!” Yodel immediately hopped off the bed and hurtled toward Keye, standing at attention at her feet with his tongue lolling to one side. Keye dropped her hand to stroke his head affectionately, “I thought we said no more kissing dogs after that trip to Seattle when Becks convinced that forty year old bouncer she was old enough to get in by her expertise?”

Maya rubbed her dog-drenched face on the pillow before rolling over and beginning to rub her eyes, “I remember that being you, not Becks.”

“Oh, yeah,” Keye replied lazily as if the thought hadn’t occurred to her until now.

“Come on, Leah’s making breakfast,” Keye stated from her place leaning up against the doorframe. As she plodded away softly, Maya heard Yodel following her dutifully down the small hallway to the kitchenette.

“Okay, but you still have a lot of explaining to do,” Maya called after her as she sat up and ran a hand through her disheveled hair. She didn’t even attempt a glance at her phone. The soft, gray morning light of Seattle pulled her eyes toward the window and Maya let out a soft sigh and let the day breathe her in.

Leah’s apartment was bright and airy. The kitchen and living room sat in a lofted space with high ceilings that allowed large industrial air ducts to span it. The bright beach wood of the rafters above seemed to capture light and sprinkle it down across the warm butcher block island where she was preparing another omelet, this time for herself, after making one for Keye and Maya. They tucked in around the island on carefully crafted wooden bar stools that Maya had a sneaking suspicion were the handiwork of her boyfriend. Maya peered over shoulder to look out the floor to ceiling narrow windows covered in a gauzy, white curtain. The living room was a collection of well loved, mismatched furniture pieces, all softened by time and use.

Maya hadn’t fully recognized the neighborhood they were in when they drove in but she wondered how close they were to Paul’s workshop. Leah was laughing at Keye as she exclaimed how she’d never thought to add spinach to an omelet, or any vegetable to any dish for that matter, when Maya zoned back into the love fest unfolding before her.

“You need to eat more vegetables, I keep telling you, or you’ll never be able to hold up a bike at a stop light. Even a little one,” Leah’s face was all sunshine. She tore off a piece off her omelet and handed it to a waiting Yodel at her feet.

“She’s got a thing for bikes,” Keye hummed around a bite.

“I do not,” Leah tried to bemoan, but it only came out as soft embarrassment, her neck flushing with a hint of pink. That was hard to dispute considering Leah’s apartment was stationed above a bike shop. Her bike shop in fact.

“Crotch rockets, some call them,” Keye quipped, shooting Maya a gleeful look.

“Stop,” Leah replied breathlessly with a laugh, “They’re not called that.”

“She rode up on one to Seth’s wedding, what was I supposed to do? Not fall in love with her?” Keye goaded, shooting a bright smile in her direction. Maya lit up at this—she wanted to know everything about how Leah and Keye met, how the imprint happened.

“So, it was at Seth’s wedding then?” Maya leaned onto the counter, trying to quell her excitement. Leah looked down at her omelet with a soft smile as if just recalling the memory overwhelmed her with joy. Keye blushed and shoved another bite of gooey omelet in her mouth.

“Yeah, it was at Seth’s wedding,” Leah started softly, “Gah, I still can’t believe that little twerp is married. I swear I was helping him with his homework only last week,” she shook her head, still lost in her moment of nostalgia.

“Uh, I’m pretty sure you were helping him with his homework last week, babe. You guys were debating the merit of classic authors still being considered the classic norm in a postmodern world in this very kitchen.” Maya giggled at that and Leah looked up at Keye with such soft eyes that Maya thought she’d explode on the spot. Keye held her gaze for as long as she could before blushing and looking back down at her omelet, playing coy while continuing to eat.

Oh, so it was that kind of imprint.

“Yes, we met at Seth’s wedding,” Keye continued for her after a few bites as Leah started cleaning up. Keye launched into the story like it was well known and been written down for years.

She said it was instantaneous. Much like Maya and Paul had, Leah and Keye and locked eyes and that was it. But most of the guests had been distracted and the pack was thoroughly drunk on special Quileute brewed beer so no one was really paying them any attention. No one had even really realized, except for Keye and Leah. They had sat there and stared at each other, across the dance floor for a cool minute or two. It could have been eons for all Keye knew.

Leah’s face, which had been schooled in a cool complacency for most of the night as she muscled through her baby brother’s wedding, had shifted to something bright and surprised. Breathless, she had strode across the dance floor in her pale cream suit, sparkling under the carefully hung lights as she weaved her way through couples. Her eyes never left Keye’s and Keye had stayed glued to the spot, her heart beating wildly. Nothing would stop Leah from getting to her, and as she startled to a stop in front of her, Keye let out a loud exhale as if breathing again for the first time.

“It’s you,” Leah had said, so surprised yet relieved, “It’s you. Y-you…you are so…you’re my—,”

“Keye,” she interjected, relieving the stuttering Leah. She held her hand out somewhat awkwardly, but it had felt like the only thing she could do. “I’m Keye,” she said again.

Leah slipped her hand into Keye’s, not shaking it, but just holding it there for a moment before threading her fingers purposefully through hers and nodding. “Yes, you are.” Leah’s whole face brightened into one of incandescent happiness as light tears shone in her dark eyes. Keye was on the verge of losing it and letting this wave of joy rush over her and spill from her tear ducts.

There she was.

Shortly after, Keye skipped town that night with Leah and sealed her fate. She just disappeared. No one even realized she was gone, and her parents just thought that she went back to campus early. Leah was prone to disappearing spells, so there was no connection made there either apparently.

Maya’s head swum up out of the story and looked over at Leah who was leaning against the sink with her hands outstretched next to her, smiling softly at Keye.

“And after I moved in, I took this semester off—” Keye continued after a moment.

“Wait what?!” Maya snapped out of it and jerked her head toward Keye, her eyes wide with shock.

“My, come on,” Keye groaned, “What is it with you and school? It’s not that big a deal.” Keye said half heartedly.

Just because Maya had a vice grip on school didn’t mean everyone else needed to maintain that level of intensity to make school an important part of their lives. Just look at what it did to her and Paul. She willed her body to relax as she shook her head, glancing quickly at Leah for any back up and finding none.

“No, no,” Maya tried backpedaling, controlling the features on her face to remain impassive, “I just mean, I didn’t realize! I should have realized.”

Keye leveled her with an expectant stare, a small smile on her face. Maya was trying to keep her lips clamped shut so she didn’t ask the question she really wanted to ask.

After about thirty seconds though, Maya burst: “But why though?!”

So much for self control.

Keye couldn’t help but throw her head back and laugh. Leah looked on with a bit of concern on her face.

“Sometimes, things just work out that way, My. But don’t worry, I’ll go back and finish up,” Keye proclaimed, “Just for you.”

Maya smiled and shook her head. That soft concerned look was still pulling at Leah’s features as she continued to watch Keye carefully.

Maya spent the day putzing around Seattle with Leah and Keye visiting some of their favorite local haunts. They even stopped in a few local bookshops and let Maya wander for as long as she liked. She discovered some old chemistry books that she fell in love with and was thoroughly brightened despite the low hanging clouds over Seattle as they walked down hidden side streets.

The three grabbed lunch at a little sandwich shop not far from Leah’s bike shop. When Keye got up to use the bathroom, Maya casually stayed behind to Keye’s chagrin. Leah was trying to stuff the butt end of her meatball sub fully into her mouth, sauce dripping down her chin in an endearing way as she hunched her shoulders over the low table.

Leah had been pretty tight lipped about her estrangement from the pack but now that Maya had her alone, she wondered if without Keye’s constant frown whenever the pack was brought up, she could ask her about it.

“What?” Leah said around her mouthful. Maya hadn’t realized she had been staring, marveling even at this intensely, wonderful woman who had captured Keye’s heart and taken care of her best friend so completely.

“Nothing, sorry, I—” Maya stumbled and ran a hand through her shaggy hair, frizzed by the gentle rain they had walked through to get here. Maya exhaled through her nose trying to gather her thoughts about how to ask but instead, Leah spoke:

“You’re sure you want to go back?” Leah chewed valiantly and Maya couldn’t help but let her mouth hang open a bit in surprise. That wasn’t…. “No offense, but you seem torn. And I never try to make hard decisions when I’m on the fence.”

Maya closed her mouth abruptly and shook her head to try and clear any confusion that Leah could see in her eyes, “No, I…I need to go home. It’s time to go home. Not forever, but..just for now.”

“Tortured him enough, then?”

Maya’s eyes shot up to meet Leah’s in shock, but that feeling quickly faded when she saw that gleam of mischief in Leah’s eyes. She hadn’t meant it the way everyone else would have.

“I guess,” Maya shrugged. “I do miss him, though.” That was an understatement.

“Of course you do,” Leah tucked back into the table scavenging chips from Keye’s plate. “Regardless of what you know, and regardless of what you feel, the imprint should always show you true north,” the sound of crunching chips perforated Maya’s concentration, “Or so they say.”

“What do you think then? About the imprint, I mean, now that you have it?” Maya challenged. Leah took a moment, always thoughtful, never rash in her conversation. Just clear and true and decided.

“I think the imprint is different for everyone. So if anyone tries to tell you what to do with it, you should take that with a grain of salt. Listen to what it says to you, trust that,” Leah shrugged.

Maya paused at that and really tried to let that sink in. Everyone had tried to tell her what the imprint was meant to do, what it was based on legend. But it had been hard between her and Paul since the beginning. Some parts were easy, when they were just together and there was nothing else, but most other things were hard—harder than the other imprints at least. So much so, that Maya and Paul had wondered for a while if there was something wrong with them.

“I will say though,” Leah’s voice suddenly turned serious. Maya met her eyes and was taken aback by the sheer intensity at which they bored into her, “While I don’t know how your imprint works, I do know Paul.” Maya gulped, “And I can say without a doubt in my mind that he loves you with every cell in his body.”

Maya let out a sigh. She knew that of course and so she could only say as much, “I know.” Her voice came out hoarse.

“But he’s also a bit of an idiot. Emotionally, I mean. The guy was abandoned by everyone when he was a kid and then was swallowed by anger for most of his adult life. He’s only found his way through in maybe the past five years. That’s still no excuse for how he’s been with you, but still. That man comes with baggage and I do not envy you that task of unpacking it all,” Leah brushed her hands together to get off the excess crumbs.

There wasn’t enough that Maya knew about Paul’s past. He’d told her the basics, but she’d gotten more information about Paul’s dad from her own mother and that was a wobbly source.

“Speaking of members of the pack,” Maya said quickly, “do you think you’ll ever come back to the rez?”

Leah let out a gentle laugh and shook her head, “Not unless they need me.”

“Do they not need you now?” Maya quirked an eyebrow. Leah once again leveled her with that intense stare.

“Cute girls are always too brave for their own good,” Leah leaned back and stretched her arms behind Keye’s chair just as she slid back into it.

“You guys can stop talking about me now,” Keye said dramatically as she shook her hair away from her face. She shot Maya a knowing look to which she rolled her eyes.

Leah leaned forward just enough to kiss Keye’s shoulder and said softly, “Never, babe.”

------------------------------------------

—-<<Trigger warning: mentions of abortion in this next section>>---

Maya and Keye cuddled up in the guest bed that Maya was sleeping in with a laptop between them that night watching an old 90’s vampire movie. Leah had disappeared downstairs into her shop to get some work done.

As one of the main vampires looked out over a burning city, Keye readjusted her head on Maya’s shoulder as Yodel let out a soft sigh at the end of the bed. Somehow, it had felt like no time had passed at all.

“Are you nervous about tomorrow?” Keye asked softly. Maya stared at the screen as she tried to reconcile her worry into something else.

“I think so,” she breathed in and about before continuing, “It feels like the right time to go back. I don’t know how to explain it.”

“True north,” Keye muttered softly.

“Jesus, you guys really are in deep, huh?” Maya joked and Keye giggled.

“I don’t know, probably. She was there for me when everyone was either busy or gone. I don’t think that was the imprint either, she just…knew I needed her and she stayed,” Keye was quiet. Maya’s heart rate picked up as she realized her mistake in shutting everyone out. Even if Keye had said that she had understood why Maya did it, she knew she had hurt people who didn’t deserve it for the sake of her own peace. Keye, and a lot of others deserved more than that.

“Keye, I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I should have stayed in contact, I know that. It all just felt hard and this was easier. But I shouldn’t have done the easy thing….not when it comes to you or Becks,” Maya scrunched in closer to Keye.

“It really is okay, My. I get it. I disappeared too, you know. Just…tell us next time.”

“I promise,” Maya breathed. “But I don’t plan on disappearing again. I didn’t even mean to fully disappear before, it was just….easier that way. But it wasn’t fair to your or Becks, so I promise.”

The vampire on screen looked wide eyed at the little girl who was drinking from an older woman. She looked so small, so innocent. Her too-young youth, eternally frozen in time.

“I have to tell you something,” Keye breathed, her voice hitching at the end as if she was unsure.

“What?” Maya said softly, looking down at the side of her face. Keye sat up and Maya turned toward her, realizing that her face was pulled tight with pain. “What is it?” she reached for Keye’s hands that were clasped tightly in her lap but pulled back when she flinched slightly as if being touched might be too much at the moment. “Are you okay?”

“I am..I am. I really am. I need you to know that I am okay going into this,” Keye’s voice wobbled slightly as she sat up straight, before leaning back against the headboard.

“You’re kind of scaring me, Keye,” Maya said slowly as she pressed pause on the movie and sat up too, crossing her legs in front of her and turning her whole body to face Keye. The looks that flitted across her face were hard to read but as Keye bit her lip, Maya knew this was something more.

“I…” Keye began slowly, her eyes on her hands that fidgeted in her lap. Maya leaned over and covered both of her hands with her own. Keye swallowed hard, tears forming at the corner of her eyes but never falling before looking up at Maya.

There was silence, strong and solid between them, and Maya just let it hang there to give her the space to say what it was she needed to say.

“I left the rez because something h-happened,” Keye’s voice was quieter now and Maya listened carefully as soft rain started to patter on the windows above the bed. It was another few moments before Keye continued, “Colin and I were still dating and we were…things were going okay.”

A cold feeling slid into Maya’s stomach, but she held her breath to keep from thinking the worst.

“He and I were…well it doesn’t really matter, but things were going well and it was like…four days before Seth and Sadie’s wedding and I wasn’t really feeling good. Just kind of off you know?” Keye took in a breath and Maya heard the sound shudder through her, “And I…I thought that maybe I was…Fuck,” Keye wiped the tear that had escaped from the corner of her eyes and coasted down her cheek.

“You were what?” Maya asked softly, concern laid plainly on her face. Keye tilted her head and gave Maya a knowing look as she frowned. Maya waited.

“That I was pregnant,” Keye hiccuped softly and Maya let loose the breath.

“Oh.” The word came out small and barely there. Just above a whisper. Keye stared down at her hands again, playing with the tips of Maya’s fingers. “Were you?” Maya prompted gently, leaning her head down to capture Keye’s eyes.

Keye shut them tightly and the tears fiercely rolled now as she nodded.

“Okay, okay,” Maya looked over her shoulder toward the door wondering if Leah knew…if she knew Keye was… Her gaze flitted over Keye’s body to try and discern how far along she was, but she looked entirely the same. “How far along are—”

Maya was cut off by Keye shaking her head slowly, as hot tears continued to roll down her cheeks. Maya furrowed her brow, confused. Everything was coming at her so fast and she was just trying to piece every part of the puzzle together but felt like she was missing information. When realization dawned on her, her eyes widened with sadness, “You lost it…” she breathed. “Oh, Keye—” Maya reached out to stroke her shoulder, scooting closer but Keye stopped her.

“Not exactly.” Keye said, wetly. She swallowed hard and forced herself to sit up straight. Her eyes were harder now, and through the tears Maya thought she saw Keye watching her carefully for any reaction that would make her shutter completely. Maya’s mouth hung open again in momentary confusion before she said even softer, her breath barely a whisper, “Oh.”

She blinked rapidly as it all sank in. Of course. Maya kept her face neutral, soft, and open as she watched Keye watching her. Keye’s eyes flicked all around her face, trying to scan for any disapproval, or upset, and that made Maya worry that she had encountered some judgment from her circle.

Maya reached out and grasped Keye’s hand softly in hers and gave her a soft nod, “It’s okay, Keye. That’s totally your decision.”

But Keye was silent, watching her as if waiting for the other shoe to drop. Maya let the air hang between them a moment longer before she said, “Do you want to tell me about it?” Keye grimaced. “Or tell me why?” Keye crumbled slightly at that. “Let’s start with an easier question… And you don’t have to answer anything at all if you don’t want to. But, I want you to know that any answer you do give is enough reason and enough justification for the decision you made.” Maya dipped her head to meet Keye’s eyes. Only then did she see her gaze soften with trust again. “It’s enough,” she reinforced. Maya tried to emphasize that love with her eyes as well and held Keye’s gaze.

When Keye finally nodded, sagging with relief, Maya scooted closer so that their knees were touching, “When did you find out?” She wiped gently at Keye’s tears.

“Just after I met Leah…Like I said, I hadn’t been feeling great up until Seth and Sadie’s wedding, but after I met Leah, it was like I needed to know, you know?” Maya nodded and just let Keye go.

“I drove out of town to get a pregnancy test. That whole fucking tribe has eyes everywhere you know and I didn’t want to risk it getting back to…well, I bought three and I was in a fucking gas station bathroom in Beaverton with a full bottle of gatorade just…waiting for what felt like forever,” Keye stopped then and gulped down air.

Maya was pushing her hair out of her face and stroking her thumb over her hand. “And then it was like…everything stopped you know. It was real…three times it was real. And I….I panicked,” Keye was looking around the room now, the guilt just absolutely pulling her in different directions. “I didn’t want anyone to find out. At least until I could just think for a bit you know. You know how they are about babies, if they had gotten wind that I…and it was Colin’s? No way, game over.”

A fresh sob broke through Keye’s chest. She opened her mouth a couple of times to speak and couldn’t so Maya let her breathe through it, allowing her the space to continue or stop. But she carried on as if she needed to say it out loud, “I knew I didn’t want it, My. And I just felt….bad. I felt bad because, I don’t know…fuck I don’t know why should I feel bad, you know?” Maya just nodded. She understood guilt like that. “I didn’t know what to do, but I knew I couldn’t go back to the rez. And so I…I called Leah and she came and got me, no questions asked.”

Thank god, Maya thought. Thank god for Leah, because Maya could just see herself so clearly mirrored in this same situation. She was so grateful that her best friend had someone like Leah to come and protect her the way she needed to be protected.

“It took me a week to tell her. And she was just…ugh,” Keye reached for a tissue next to the bed and blew her nose before saying, “She was just perfect, you know? She knew just what to say and what to do and…” Keye’s eyes sparkled for a moment as she looked at Maya. Maya couldn’t help but give her a sad, knowing smile back.

“Yeah, yeah, imprints are great,” she joked, rolling her eyes before squeezing her hand. Keye smiled sadly, looking down at their joined hands.

“She told me that whatever I wanted to do, it was the right decision. And that I didn’t need to tell anyone if I didn’t want to, because it was my body. She was just…there. All the time for me. I-I don’t know if I could have done all this without her but…she held my hand through it all and I…” Keye looked up at Maya, her eyes sure and firm now, “I don’t regret it.”

Maya shook her head, “You shouldn’t. That was your decision, and I still love you just as you are.” Keye smiled, bigger this time and nodded.

“Still fucks with me though,” she said, resigned.

“Yeah well, they never said being a woman would be easy,” Maya pulled her into a tight hug. Keye held on so hard, she thought her ribs popped, “I love you.” Maya breathed into her hair.

For a while they just sat there, hugging, listening to each other breathe. Maya hoped her decisions

— << end trigger warning>> ---

-------------------------------------------------------------

November, 1 year ago….

Go see the elders.

Jacob’s voice echoed and roiled in Paul’s ears as he worked away at the lower deck in the back garden. The cool November air whipped round Paul as he worked at setting wood planks on his foundation. The chill did nothing to bring down his temperature though. Paul was running more than hot these days—he was constantly burning up, as if an unbreakable fever clung to him since Maya left.

Left him.

Paul stalled, his hands stilling on the wood as he closed his eyes tightly against his last memory of her, tear stricken and shaking her head at him. I won’t. She had said to him that she wouldn’t stay. Not for anyone, not even for him. And that tore him to pieces and set him on fire. And ever since, he’d been burning.

Paul forced his eyes back open and worked to refocus them on that task at hand. Work on the house always gave him some temporary peace, but he could never truly escape that hollowness that deepened and ached, threatening to drive him mad before the first snow would melt.

He couldn’t even bring himself to go on rounds at this point. But no one blamed him. No one even came looking for him. He chalked that up to Jacob, citing space, citing time, citing…whatever it was Paul was supposed to find during his time of abandonment.

Because that’s what it was, anyway you shook it out, he was simply abandoned. Again.

Go see the elders.

Jacob’s voice persisted in his head, sounding firmer, angrier each time that Paul refused whether internally or externally. What would the elders do for him exactly? They got him into this mess in the first place. Setting unrealistic expectations, putting pressure on them, coaxing them along with arbitrary milestones. They wouldn’t let up with their pleading eyes and knowing conversations until Maya was pregnant. Jesus. Paul skated quickly away from that thought and continued working on the deck.

Plus, what could the elders say to him now? Maya was gone, and all he could do was hope that she’d come back. A ripple of anger ran down Paul’s spine as he gritted his teeth. Suddenly he felt like he was six years old again, sitting on the stoop of his dad’s double wide as thunder promised rain overhead. Waiting for someone who might never return. He hated that feeling. And what he hated more was how that anger that he once thought was well and truly tempered began to roil viciously within him again.

Go see the elders.

Jacob’s tone turned into a rough growl in his head and Paul couldn’t stand it anymore. The hammer that had gone so still in his hand now shook and he reared back before hurling it with all his might without a care of where it landed. It connected with something far off, a tree perhaps, that shook its occupants free and had them flying off in a hurry.

Paul let out a harsh breath as he tried to swallow the well of emotion building in him. If he was being honest, he hadn’t done so well since Maya had left. To be fair, that might actually be an understatement. As hot, unshed tears brimmed his dark eyes, he stood with his hands lightly rested on his hips.

“Fine,” he said to no one in particular, “I’ll go see the elders.” Paul headed off in the direction of his lost hammer.

--------------------------------------------

The next morning, Maya and Keye stumbled into the kitchen together after having fallen asleep, exhausted from their conversation the night before.

Today was the day Maya planned to return to La Push and she would be lying if she wasn’t a bit nervous.

But, even more nerve wracking was Keye’s request to drive her into the rez. After last night, Keye had woken up feeling better, but she had told Maya sleepily that she needed to go home to fix some things too.

It only made sense that she would come with her, but still, the thought of Keye having another conversation last night made Maya ache, especially if she wouldn’t be as accepted by the others—least of all the council.

But Keye had assured her that Leah and her had talked about this and that she felt ready after unloading a little on Maya last night. She could do it and even more so, she felt like she needed to, to continue to heal and grow past it.

Now, hunched over their individual bowls of cereal as Leah watched from her place leaned up against the counter, both women held an air of dread about them.

Leah took a bite of cereal and said suddenly to Maya: “You know he’s going to know you’re there as soon as you cross the boundary, right?”

At this, Maya couldn’t help a small shiver run through her. He’d know she was there, but what he would do about it was still up in the air.

A few hours later, Keye pulled up the familiar, neatly paved driveway to the house. If it wasn’t for the familiar blue stone, Maya might not have even clocked that they were at her house. There’s been so much work done to it, almost as if someone frantically decided to build with unbridled purpose and determination.

“Holy shit,” Keye breathed as she looked through her windshield of Leah’s Subaru. They both sat in stunned silence for a moment, mouths slightly agape. Then Maya replied weakly,

“Yeah.”

The little blue house wasn’t so little anymore.

“Did you know he was—uh,” Keye faltered to complete her sentence so Maya just answered:

“No. This is…” Maya was lost for words.

“Yeah,” Keye breathed. Finally, she tore her eyes away from the house and looked over at Maya. “So, are you ready?”

“Are you?” Maya said back just as hesitantly. Keye considered it for a moment and then just shrugged.

“Yeah, why not?” She answered with a small smile. Maya exhaled a breath through her nose and nodded. Why not.

She pushed open the door and stood slowly on the dark paved driveway that was dotted with solar lights that would guide her in at night. She grabbed her duffel bag and backpack from the backseat and shut both doors with purpose.

Keye only pulled back up the driveway once Maya had opened the front door. But Maya stayed frozen on the threshold for a moment, marveling at what lay within.

The quaint front entryway had been completely opened and transformed into a wide open expansive living room that wrapped around the staircase that was now exposed on either side. Off to the right of the living room where there had only been a stone wall before, Paul had put in a cozy office, the entryway was arched and held two driftwood french doors, the glass mingling perfectly with the hand carved wood.

Maya peeked in, her eyes coasting over the back wall behind the raw edged desk that was packed books in the floor to ceiling bookshelves. An oversized, plush chair was nestled neatly next to the bookshelves and the bay window that looked out into the woods. A small iron fireplace had been installed in a free corner. It was…perfect for lack of a better word.

Maya spun on her heel and carried on toward the back of the house. The kitchen had been further expanded, a large warm wood island stretched across the expansive green tile. New appliances had been installed, the cabinets fitted and hand carved with intricate designs to heighten the simplicity of the sleek and soft kitchen around it.

Someone had been busy. Maya wrapped her arms around herself and glanced across the space. It was all so beautiful and different. But it still somehow felt like her home. It held the exact warmth and memory as before, just opened more to welcome new memories.

Outside the sun was beginning to sink lower in the sky into the late afternoon. She pushed aside the long sliding glass door and stepped out onto the deck. A hanging bed flocked in white gossamer curtains and shaded by a partially covered pergola hung seductively off to the side. The deck had been expanded to include three levels, each holding a different space to gather with cozy chairs, firepits, and hand carved weather-proofed wooden tables.

The most impressive thing that she had seen thus far though was the renovated workshop. Paul had completely rebuilt it, expanded it, and settled it a little further back onto the neighboring property. It almost looked the size of his studio in Seattle now, but he had built the entire front with reclaimed antique windows so that she could easily see into the intricate workspace within.The beveled glass glittered in the winter sun and made the entire backyard sparkle. It even held a second story loft that looked out toward the ocean.

The cold November breeze rolled over Maya and she took a deep breath. She knew the kind of frenzied state he must have been in when he started building all of this. As a distraction. To keep him from feeling that hollowing pain that she herself felt almost every day when she had left. It was heartbreaking what they’d done to each other. But there was no getting around it now.

Still, the most surprising thing was, he wasn’t here. Maya looked over her shoulder back into the house. Maybe she could find the keys to her Jeep, now neatly tucked away in the newly built two-car garage in the adjacent lot that Paul must have purchased to make all of these renovations.

With Paul nowhere in sight, she let out a long breath. She guessed she could go to Emily and Sam’s and look for him there. That’s what she needed to do—she needed to find him.

------------------------------------------------

February, 9 months ago…

Paul stood on the aging and worn steps of the last elder front porch in the icy rain that was oscillating annoyingly into sleet. As he looked around the front porch, shirtless and drenched in cold rain that steamed off of him, he noticed the wood rot close to the house where the porch met and made a mental note to come back and repair it once the weather cleared.

After a few more seconds, Elder Ti’Hal slowly pulled open the door, a wool woven shawl hanging heavy over her shoulders. Her bright white hair was braiding neatly into two plaits.

Elder Ti’Hal was truly ancient. And Paul didn’t mean that in a negative way at all. She radiated the distilled essence and teachings of their tribe. She was an elder before Paul was even born and he’d never known her without her bright white hair framing her wrinkled, warm face.

She still managed to move fairly quickly and with agility that wouldn’t normally be attributed to someone of her age, but that was the mystery of elder Ti’Hal. She also never attended council meetings or bonfires anymore, and instead preferred to stay in her quiet cottage in the forest that she had shared with her husband before his passing over two decades ago.

“Paul Lahote,” she said softly. “To what do I owe this very wet appearance?”

Paul scowled off to the side, his jaw clenching so hard he thought his teeth might crack. He hadn’t realized it, but he was breathing heavily, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort of it. When he didn’t answer she just nodded gravely.

“Come in,” she walked back into her small, warm, wooden home and Paul only hesitated for a second in the cold rain before he ducked under the tiny threshold and entered. “Let me get you a towel,” she grumbled.

“Don’t bother,” he said, his tone coming out harsher than he intended.

“For my couch then,” she was already digging in the small linen closet and produced a worn, threadbare towel that she draped across her couch for gesturing to it. “Sit.” she commanded.

Paul had forgotten how bossy the elders were. He trudged across the living room, careful not to trip on the woven Quileute rug before he slumped down onto the couch in a huff. A warm fire crackled off to his left and Elder Ti’Hal had disappeared around a corner into her tiny kitchen and was clanging around with a kettle.

“Do you want to start or should I?” Elder Ti’Hal called from the kitchen. Paul was still breathing heavily, the ache in his stomach crescendoing to a harsh beat. He may have groaned painfully in response, but he was too distracted by the unrelenting pain the imprint was causing him. “Right,” Elder Ti’Hal came around the corner with two hand thrown mugs in her hand steaming with what Paul hoped was something stronger than tea.

She handed him his mug and when he took a whiff, he nearly threw it begrudgingly into the fire.

“What pains you today, Paul Lahote?” she began. Paul shook his head, trying to find the right place to start, but nothing came to him, so instead he said,

“Why do you always do that?”

“Do what?” she sipped slowly from her mug.

“Call me by my first and last name. It’s not like you haven’t known me before I was born. Both names seem overkill don’t you think?”

He shifted uncomfortably on the warm, plush couch as she leveled him with her gaze and took her time answering.

“It’s more to remind you than me,” she said cryptically. Paul scoffed:

“Oh believe me, I know who I am.”

“Do you?” she replied quickly. Paul glared at her full on now and leaned forward, his mug still cradled between both hands.

“She didn’t come home for Christmas. She didn’t come home for Seth and Sadie’s wedding. Nothing. Not a fucking peep from her,” he could feel the tension in his body snap, the anger flowing through his veins freely now. He trembled slightly—this wasn’t his first time having to channel unchecked rage through himself and he doubted Ti’Hal would appreciate him exploding into a giant wolf and shredding her comfortable living room to pieces.

Instead, Paul glued his eyes to the fire, trying to let the anger move through him and then out of him to be consumed and burned away by the fire. But every time he breathed in, it felt like ash flooding his mouth, the embers of that anger still hotter than anything else within him.

“What does one do with so much anger?” she posed the question suddenly. Paul looked up at her wide-eyed as if shocked by the fact that she could see it on him. He was naive to think that much anger wouldn’t still be palpable to someone as attuned as her. Paul rolled his jaw and sat staring at her, waiting for the anger to ebb, but it wouldn’t.

Fuck.

Elder Ti’Hal settled back into her large armchair covered in different soft, worn blankets. When it was clear he wasn’t going to respond, she glanced out the window, watching the rain settle into a gentle drizzle.

“What do you think the imprint is, Paul?” her voice was warm with a gentle thrum to it like dried maize kernels pouring into a stone bowl. Comforting, consistent. It was maddening to say the least, so Paul continued in his aggravated tone, feeling the heat rise on his skin.

“An anchor for packmates. A promise for imprints. It’s a reason to stay.”

“Hmm,” she breathed, her eyes still on the window watching the rain make trails to the muddied window ledge. Paul huffed, rubbing his hands against his knees with impatience. A fucking waste of time, he thought as he clenched his jaw. “But it wasn’t reason enough for her to stay?”

When her eyes slowly drifted back toward him, Paul looked ready to burst into flames.

“Clearly not. I can’t go get her because I’ve been ordered to stay away, but also….she doesn’t want me to come,” his voice was quiet. He waited for her to speak again but she just stared at him sadly. A deathly calm rolled over him and he thought that if Ti’Hal didn’t say something soon, he might just give up and collapse in on himself like a dying star.

“What is it then? The imprint?” Paul asked, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.

Ti’Hal smiled slowly, warmth creeping into her eyes as she tilted her head to the side and surveyed Paul thoroughly. She took her time before she finally said:

“A choice.”

Paul tried to quiet the tremors radiating through his body. If the imprint was a choice, then Maya had clearly not chosen him. Never. Not even from the start. The thought of it made his blood boil. His face twisted in rage before he spat out.

“What the fuck does that mean? How is it a fucking choice when it’s supposedly pre-ordained from the ancestors? That makes no fucking sense, you know that right?” Paul was on his feet without remembering when exactly he stood up. His hands were curled into fists and his chest was rising and falling quickly. He needed to calm down. If he could just calm down he could…

Ti’Hal just watched him with that serene look on her face, as if nothing fazed her anymore and the anger of a full blown werewolf couldn’t even shake her. Paul tried breathing, closing his eyes, counting to ten, but nothing could quell this desperate anger that spiraled and felt like lead dropping into the bottom of his stomach.

Why was it always like this? This anger? It was like a tide that he couldn’t escape. Like clockwork it would just rush over him and pull him under in seconds and there was nothing he felt like he could do about it. It was an exposed wire in his veins just ticking and twitching with so much heat and sharpness that he felt his skin would burn away and leave him exposed and vulnerable.

“Have you given her a choice?” Ti’Hal’s voice cut through the raging quiet like a whip, but her voice still remained calm. He tried to focus on that—that there was calm to be achieved and he could reach it. He could reach the shore if he just stayed calm. He was panting, losing his breath every moment he kept himself solid and here.

“I thought I did…but I wasn’t given one either,” he thought back to the moment the imprint had happened. Seeing her there across the fire. It was like an instant salve to a long forgotten pain. And then in the next moment, he was all resistance and rage again. Nothing felt like a choice when it came to the imprint. “We…we didn’t have time to make that choice,” Paul tried to slow his breathing. Calm, in and out, just like the waves. Not sinking but drifting.

“Some see the imprint as a gift, but that’s also just a choice wrapped up in a nice bow, in my opinion. It is a choice, Paul Lahote. You’ve made plenty in your very short life so far, but it is one that you give to her and wait until she makes it. It’s a question, and not a command and it can take many forms. You’re part is making sure you ask her the right one,” she watched his body language shift ever so slightly. “Miss Sunriviere was told that you were her imprint, told that there was to be in a relationship, and then told what her life would most likely be, in so many words.” Paul opened his mouth to retort but she continued anyway, “You are her choice. So ask the question and be patient for once. And most importantly, be vulnerable to her answer,” Ti’Hal took a moment to sip her tea. Paul tried to let those words sink in.

He was vulnerable with her. Her absence had nearly destroyed him, was that not vulnerable enough?

“No, not that,” Ti’Hal responded as if she could hear his thoughts. Paul’s eyes widened.

“What’s the question, then? The one I should ask?” Paul said desperately, his voice rasping as he realized he had been holding his body tensely throughout Ti’Hal’s speech.

“Start with the answer you want and work your way back from there,” she gave a cryptic smile and stood, disappearing behind her kitchen door and singing softly to herself, unceremoniously excusing him.

Paul stood there for a while longer, rapidly breathing, and listening to Ti’Hal singing the songs of his childhood in her kitchen, muffled and sweet. ------------------------------------------

The door to her Jeep shut with a sharp click as Maya shrugged on her cropped puffy jacket. Much as she had suspected, the keys to Maya’s Jeep were in the sun visor, as if waiting for her. The whole drive to Sam and Emily’s felt…calm. As if she were driving toward something rather than into something. There was no sweeping dread, no overwhelming nervousness—she just felt ready. She chocked that up to just time. The time away had made her ready for home, refreshed her.

Sam and Emily’s looked the same as it always did—warm and inviting with a steady stream of smoke coming from the chimney. It was familiar and as she took in a deep breath, the cold November air spiced with pine and fallen leaves, with a hint of the salty Pacific sent a pleasant reassuring thrum through her body.

Maya stood by her Jeep for a moment just taking it in, before the potential chaos—whether it would be angry or joyful—would be wrought on her. Just the quiet creak of the forest, a distant river rushing toward the sea, and muffled laughter booming from within the home.

Maya took a deep breath and took a couple of steps forward, her feet crunching on the wet gravel. She hadn’t made it more than a few steps when the screen door opened and Paul walked out slowly onto the porch, hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. Maya halted, her breath caught in her throat as her eyes met his.

She braced herself for whatever awaited her, but still that pulsing calm spread through her. It all felt…alright. And she hadn’t felt that way in so long. She watched in for just a moment as he stood on the top step of the porch, his face neutral before it broke into an earth shattering smile.

Maya could have sobbed at the sight of it. He sauntered down the steps toward and it took all of her self control not to break into a full on sprint to quickly close the distance between them. Somehow she managed a quick walk and nearly crashed into his body, but he held her fast, one arm coming out to wrap around her waist as his other hand cupped her jaw. He peered down at her, that warm smile still spilling sunshine in every direction and she stared up at him, eyes glittering with unshed tears.

He shook his head lightly and smiled, as his thumb reached up to gently brush across her lower lip, parting them softly.

“You came home,” he said gently, the emotion clearly wavering in his deep voice. Maya nearly crumbled at his touch. She was home.

“Yes,” she said simply, her voice barely above a whisper. “I thought it was…time,” she paused when he raised his eyebrows at her, a hint of humor and warmth in his eyes then quickly clarified: “For a visit.”

But this didn’t seem to faze him. He just nodded gently, humming in acceptance with that warm, pleased look on his face as he took her all in. There was a palpable vibration happening between them, what Maya could only assume was a physical manifestation of the imprint’s tension.

The last time she had seen him on the rez was over a year ago. And yet, time washed away and parted to let them stand there together again as if nothing had passed, as if this was any other day. Comfortable.

Maya’s hands shook she gripped the sides of his abdomen. She’d come all this way to say….to say what exactly? Her mouth parted softly but nothing came out. She needed to say something, anything. The silence stretched between them and Maya just couldn’t let it hang there any longer. How could she? After he had left her in that hotel room, and how it had felt coming home again—she needed to tell him everything.

He was tall, god so tall, he towered over her really, and yet she felt like his matching pair.

“Welcome home,” he said gently, his nose nuzzling hers gently.

Maya looked up at him curiously, her eyes slightly narrowed as she took him in. His dark beard was closely trimmed to his face, and his hair was a bit shorter than the last time she saw it. He looked good. Well, he always looked good, but this was different.

His eyes seemed bright, not clouded with the anger or jealousy she had seen back in the spring. No, this Paul felt solid, for once. The light was shining on his face, his color back to its warm russet, flush with heat and health. Everything felt simpler.

And with the confusion and despair that had once clung to that hollowness in her stomach from the imprint’s ache clearing completely, she felt like she could see clearly for the first time in awhile. She was worried momentarily that maybe it was just the trick of the imprint, beckoning her in—a salve to her burning anxiety.

But staring up at Paul, there was an openness there that hadn’t been there before. Something that she wanted to discover and ask him about. For now though, as his hand slowly threaded into her hair and pulled her close, this was all that she needed.

Finally, after watching her with such intensity, such heat, as if trying to rememorize every part of her face he lowered his head toward hers and crashed their lips together. It was like coming up for air after swimming beneath a current for too long. His kiss pressed new life into her and she arched her body fully into his, her curve slotting into the shape of his body just so as he held her against him.

Paul moved his mouth over hers, slow and wanting, washing the ache of their absence away. There was no succumbing this time, just an equal measure of elation at being together again, and Maya felt that familiar sensation of something clicking into place and she saw it for what it was: being in the right place at the right time.

She sighed into his mouth and heard him give a soft groan of pleasure before the air rang with the hoots and howls of his brothers. He pulled back gently, his eyes hooded and soft as he looked at her. Paul glanced over his shoulder at his pack crowded onto the porch and gave a gentle laugh before looking back, his eyes shining with something new as he said gruffly, “I guess they missed you too.”

Maya swallowed thickly and laughed, not willing to let go of him first. But he took her cue and said, “Come inside, I’m sure they all have a million questions.” Paul kissed her forehead before turning and slotting her neatly into his side as they walked the short distance to the porch.

“Hey, hey Ivy League!” Jared crooned.

“Welcome back, My,” Seth said softly.

“We needed a little more brains around here,” Colin laughed as Brady shoved him lightly.

“Maya?!” a soft, female voice floated out from the front door as Maya and Paul climbed the porch steps. Becks pushed her way through the pack crowded on the porch and started sobbing instantly upon seeing her. She was heavily pregnant, and Jacob wasn’t far behind her as she nearly dropped into Maya’s arms in a hug, squeezing her so tightly she thought she cracked a rib.

“Oh my god!” she cried into her shoulder. Maya chuckled and rubbed soft circles on her back as she looked over her shoulder at Jacob who shrugged and looked lovingly at his hormonally devastated wife. Becks pulled back to look at Maya, her face puffy and tear stricken, “You absolute JERK!” Maya barked a laugh at that and tried to wipe some tears away from Becks’ cheeks. “Don’t ever disappear on me like that again. I thought— I thought—,”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Maya said, pulling her best friend back into a hug. “I should have texted.” Becks hiccuped a sound of disapproval, “Or called.” Maya corrected. When she pulled back, Becks nodded, seemingly trying to get herself calm as Jacob settled a hand on her lower back. Maya’s eyes widened as she took in just how pregnant she was.

“Yeah, I know,” Becks said disappointed, “He’s like a week late.” She truly looked exhausted and the size of her belly stretched to almost painful extent. Jacob rubbed her back and leaned down to kiss her temple.

“He’ll come soon, babe,” he promised. “Plus, Maya’s here. That’s literally all the good luck we need to induce your labor. Like last time.”

Maya laughed again and shrugged, “Just no vampire delivery this time, right?” she quipped. Jacob rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, I hope it doesn’t come to that. But, Carlisle is on standby if the water birth stalls or we need quick intervention,” Jacob said nonchalantly.

“What the fuck is a water birth?” Brady whispered to no one in particular.

“Come inside, come inside,” Becks waved a hand and with Paul’s hand on her waist gently, Maya let the warm, comforting Uley home swallow her up.

They stayed at Sam and Emily’s until late in the evening, laughing and swapping stories. Paul stayed next to her, his presence relaxed and content, which was so unlike the tense and overwhelmingly protectiveness he had always exhibited before she left.

She glanced over at him a couple times, and each time, he caught her eye and gave her a smile. One that promised nothing but exactly what he was in that moment. And it made her…happy.

When she started to yawn, Paul took that as an opportunity to lean over and whisper softly against her ear, “Let’s go home.”

Maya nodded immediately and they said their quick goodbyes to those remaining there, promising to come back tomorrow for lunch and babywatch.

When they pulled up to the house in Maya’s Jeep, she couldn’t stifle her laughter quickly enough before Paul looked toward her amused and said:

“You don’t like it?” he asked, not even a little offended. If she didn’t know any better, there might be a slight teasing tone to his voice.

“No, no! It’s beautiful, I—,” she shut her eyes tightly to quell the rising emotion in her stomach from burning behind her eyes for too long. “It’s beautiful, Paul. You’ve clearly been busy, but I’m not sure why you did all this work.” Liar, the voice inside her quipped.

The corner of Paul’s mouth pulled up in a smug grin beneath his closely trimmed beard, “Bullshit,” he replied, maybe to that voice in her head. Maya blushed and shook her head at the soft teasing tone.

They hopped out of the car and came around the front into each other’s sides, arms weaving effortlessly over each other’s waists like magnets pulled them together, as they walked toward the house.

“Well, why else would you feel the need to renovate our entire house? It’s not like we needed to. The house was…fine, before,” she swallowed a gasp on the last two words as Paul confidently reached for her hip and tugged her closer, pulling her body flush with his. He stopped her, his other hand came up to rest on the side of her neck and threaded through her hair at the nape of her neck.

He chuckled and Maya felt the warm rumbling vibration of it stumble through her body and land in her belly. “Shut up,” he said with a gentle smile. Maya couldn’t help her returning grin before she quickly wiped it from her face.

“Seriously, if this is what happens every time I leave, I’m going to have to have someone confiscate your power tools,” his warm breath fanned across her face as he sighed, his eyes dancing around taking her all in in this light. How did he do that? Look at her like he was seeing the most incredible thing he’d ever laid eyes upon for the first time, and yet, the familiarity of his gaze said he’d known her forever, lifetimes before even. She let her hands rest on his chest now as she looked up at him.

“I forgot how much of a little shit you are,” he teased.

“Me?! Really, you're a menace to homes everywhere—” Maya was cut off as she shrieked with delight as Paul growled, squeezing her hip and biting her neck, his rough stubble tickling beneath her chin as he backed her over the threshold of the house and kicked the door shut behind him.

Once inside, he grabbed her under her thighs and carried her effortlessly up the stairs toward their bedroom, his mouth never leaving hers. Maya wrapped her arms around his neck, letting herself sink deeper into the kiss. Nothing was hurried—for once.

When he lowered her gently onto the bed, his hands coasted across her thighs and unbuttoned her jeans. He peeled them off her slowly, kissing down her body and pausing to press an open mouthed kiss to delicate V between her thighs. Maya watched him, her eyes hooded with desire as he took his time kissing back up her bare legs once her jeans were discarded, pulling her shirt up now and peppering the expanse of her belly with warm pecks.

Maya sighed, a small moan escaping as made his way up between her breasts, swiftly pulling her shirt up over her head and burying his face in her neck, the stubble scraping against the soft skin and making goosebumps rise across her breasts.

Paul was slow and methodical in how he worshiped her, his hands touching every part of her, pausing to measure just how well she fit in his hands. Maya felt it too and an overwhelming sense of contentment rushed through her. The imprint bond that normally rang so clear through her during a time like this was completely silent. She didn’t pay it much mind though as Paul quickly unsnapped her bra and pulled back the delicate lace before encasing her nipple in his mouth. Maya’s back arched off the bed and Paul’s hand traced the shape of it.

His thigh nestled neatly between her legs and Maya couldn’t help but seek friction desperately there, grinding down on him and rolling her hips as he tugged gently at her nipple with his teeth, biting softly across the swell of her chest to her other breast.

Maya was panting with desire, rolling her hips as her eyes flutter shut to simply exist in this moment with him. She heard the soft swish of his t-shirt coming off and the familiar hum of his zipper. When she opened her eyes, he was standing and discarding his clothes, fully naked at the end of the bed and he simply looked—gorgeous. Maya’s breath caught in her throat as she leaned up to look at him. His throat bobbed in equal adoration as he leaned over her, his fingers ghosting across her hips and slowly slipping her panties down her thighs. He kissed her bent knee as he slipped the lacy garment over it and when she was fully naked beneath him, he let out a well deserved sigh. His eyes raked in every inch of her as if drinking her in. Maya was propped up on her elbows, her eyes softened as she slowly let her knees drop to either side, baring herself to him.

She was already dripping—she knew that. Paul licked his lips and kneeled between her, not wasting anymore time as he bit gently on her thigh before leaning in to devour her. His tongue, flat and warm, seemed to touch every part between her thighs and Maya threw her head back, letting out a sharp moan. He let her settle on his tongue, tasting her, relishing her scent, as he held her there, his hands anchored firmly on her hips. His mouth sucked and pulled at her clit, his tongue darting into her opening, as a groan rumbled from his throat and through her body.

Maya was cresting, light bursting behind her eyes as she whimpered through her release. She twitched against his tongue and only then did he lean up, his eyes glazed with lust and love so intertwined that she thought she’d melt into the mattress.

Paul ran his hands over her body again, reverently, as if to prove something to himself and Maya shivered. The ache growing inside of her was present, persistent, but he leaned down slowly, taking her mouth over his and she sighed into it. Their breath mingled, mixing, and Maya felt like she was coming home all over again.

He wrapped his arm down around her back and shifted her up the bed, but before she could settle onto the pillows, he whipped her over him and Maya straddled his abdomen. Her eyes sparkled, and she couldn’t help but smile. Paul almost always preferred to have her beneath him when he claimed her, but in this moment, his eyes shone with a desire to see her claim every part of him.

Maya let her hands run down his chest, memorizing the hard expanse, the ripples and lines that made him strong and immovable. His chest rose and fell in quick breaths as if her fingertips were tracing some new pattern of love into his skin. Maya slowly traced over each dip and line of muscle, her eyes trained to each small freckle or scar, taking him all in.

His hands gripped her hips tightly, kneading the soft flesh that creased between her hip and thigh and she smiled. “You are torturing me,” he rasped, his eyes dark and desperate. Maya glanced up at his face and just smiled softly.

“I’m just remembering,” she replied barely above a whisper. Paul pressed his thumbs into that delicate crease where her hips met each of her thighs and pressed. A shot of lightning struck between her legs and a soft gasp fell from her lips.

“Remembering what?” he asked, so soft, so gentle. A sweet juxtaposition to the hard bodied, giant man that lay wanting and ready beneath her. Maya’s fingers paused over where his heart lay thumping wildly in his chest.

“What it feels like to come home,” she replied, as she lifted her hips and pressed him against her center. She slid down onto him slowly, feeling the warm stretch of him. A feral groan ripped from Paul as she sank onto his hilt, her hips neatly connected to his. She feel his hands flex as they gripped and loosened on her thighs. Maya braced herself on his stomach, taking in deep, stuttering breaths as she tried to get used to the sheer size of him again. As he twitched inside of her, she let out a soft “Ah!” as she clenched around him. She was so sensitive. Being fully in control had set her body alight and Paul waited for her to move, groaning each time she inadvertently squeezed him inside of her.

When she lifted slightly, Paul braced her between his hands, helping to raise her hips. His eyes were glued to where they connected as the sheen of her slick coated every exposed inch of him. Maya raised herself halfway up his shaft before slowly settling back down onto him working herself into a slow and languid pace.

Maya watched his eyes, sharp and dark as they took in every bit of movement. He was in absolute awe, completely taken by the shape of her and Maya felt completely in control.

Her mouth hung open in unadulterated want as she quickened her pace on top of him. Rolling and sliding her hips against him. Paul’s hands tightened and loosened of their own accord as if he had to remind himself to let go a little so he wouldn’t bruise her.

With each roll of her hips, that ache was replaced with warm relief and she felt a whole body shiver rush through her as Paul started chanting her name. She needed him closer, as she felt her tits swell and ache from her impending release. As if he heard her, Paul leaned up, connecting their bodies. His chest pressed flush against hers, but Maya didn’t stop bucking her hips against his. Paul wrapped his arms around her body, nipping along her collarbone, his moans echoing across the room as Maya threw her head back, panting and cursing.

She felt him release first, and it took her over the edge. Paul’s eyes were closed tightly as he shuddered through his release and Maya curved in on herself as she let go, her body clenching to him tightly with wave after wave of pleasure as if she was trying to rinse herself through.

Finally, she collapsed on top of him, breathing heavily into the crook of his neck. He placed a hand behind her head and stroked gently, kissing her temple as he tried to slow his breathing.

Still, the imprint was silent. Maya wasn’t complaining, it was just…strange.

“Welcome home,” he breathed. Maya chuckled and buried her head in his neck as she let sleep overtake her in one fell swoop

The next morning, Maya awoke slowly. She was keenly aware of Paul’s body behind hers, his arms wrapped lightly around her waist. Rain pattered gently on the windows and she had to admit that she hadn’t felt this content waking up in a long while.

Paul stirred gently behind her, kissing her shoulder as Maya rubbed her hand over his forearm. They stretched into one another, Paul groaning sleepily as she turned in his arms.

“Good morning,” he said gently, his eyes barely open. Maya bit her lower lip and smiled.

“Morning.”

“Do you have plans today?” he asked nonchalantly. Maya quirked an eyebrow and stifled a laugh.

“No, I don’t think so. These are my plans, what about you?” she said in only a slightly teasing tone.

“Yeah, I want to show you something,” he opened his eyes fully now, looking down at her and Maya looked at him carefully. Not a bit of hesitation in those eyes, she noticed. “Will you come?”

“Sure,” Maya breathed. She didn’t know why but her stomach erupted with butterflies. He gave her a warm smile and closed his eyes again pulling her closer as he settled back into sleep.

Later that afternoon, once the rain had stopped and Maya was bundled in her heavy winter coat and rain weathered hiking boots. Paul was dressed simply in jeans and a black t-shirt, his hair neatly coiffed to the side as if he had tried to tidy it up just a little bit.

Paul drove them into the woods and parked in a clearing. He led her through the forest and they walked for nearly an hour along sloping pathways and fern covered earth. Paul carried her over fallen trees and helped her down rain slicked slopes until the pathways went decidedly up and up.

“Where are we going?” Maya laughed as she breathed in the briney air, her cheeks flushed red with heat and exertion. Paul looked back at her over his shoulder and squeezed her hand.

“Almost there,” he reassured her.

Once they broke through the treeline, Maya knew where they were headed and her heart began to race.

It was the cliff from her dream all those years ago. Where the wolf had beckoned her forward.

“Paul what are we—” she began as they started up the slope of the cliff.

“When you were gone, I went and saw the elders,” he began not looking at her. Maya stopped and her hand fell from his.

“Oh?” she couldn’t say that that filled her with the reassurance she was hoping for. The elders had been incredibly intrusive throughout their relationship. “What for?” she probed.

Paul took a few more steps forward toward the jutting edge of the cliff that pulled out over the water. “I was looking for advice and they didn’t really offer me much…until I saw Ti’Hal,” Maya’s eyes widened at that and she followed him a couple steps onto the cliff.

“Ti’Hal?” She was shivering, not from the cold but from something else. Nerves? She couldn’t place it. No one ever went to Ti’Hal. She was the tribe’s oldest advisor, never came to council meetings anymore, and was a recluse for lack of a better term. Still, she was revered within her community and if you did seek her out, there needed to be a very good reason. She didn’t give away her time easily.

Paul looked out over the cliffs, the wind whipping around him as he put a hand in his pocket. “I was trying to figure out what to do about us.” Maya’s stomach dropped at that. Paul still didn’t look at her and she felt like she was waiting for other shoe to drop, “I was miserable without you Maya, I think you know that.”

“Paul—” Maya tried again.

“No. Let me get this out,” he breathed harshly, turning to look at her finally, his eyes were burning. “Let me, please.” He nearly begged. Maya swallowed hard and nodded. He looked out again for a couple of heartbeats before he continued, turning to look back at her but staying close to the cliffs edge.

“I was miserable without you. I had no idea what to do about the imprint, how to get you back. It was driving me insane. Actually insane. I didn’t phase back for a few months because I couldn’t handle being without you and lending myself to that animal side was simpler. But that started to make everything worse….I felt like..I was dying without you. And that terrified me.”

Indeed his eyes were pained and dark and Maya thought the pain of it would reach out and shatter her. That the imprint would begin to tug her closer. But it didn’t. It was odd.

“I just wanted it all to stop. If you wanted to stay away, be without me, I wanted you to have that and for me not to feel this way anymore. So, I tried to figure out the bond the imprint made. At one point I even asked…I even considered…trying to break it,” his voice was so defeated and Maya couldn’t help a soft sob from escaping her throat at the thought of it. “I was in so much pain, I just…”

Maya took another small step forward and he continued, determined. “Still, the elders had no advice. The imprint would pull you back to me. There would be no other option but that. And then I saw Ti’Hal. I realized after talking with her that I got the imprint all wrong. I got us all wrong,” his eyes were hard now as they looked past her, through her.

Was this some sort of sick joke? Fear shot through Maya as she thought the absolute worst.

“Paul, wait,” Maya said, holding her hand out.

“No, My,” he shook his head, “Let me finish.”

“I don’t want you to,” she nearly had to yell over the wind, “Please, let’s just go home.”

Paul shook his head, a smile now bursting over his face and Maya had to swallow her tears to keep from letting the panic sink in.

“You have no idea how much I love you,” he said gently. Maya’s eyes widened and she took a step forward. Please don’t let it be bad. “I realized that because of the imprint and because of what everyone thought it meant, you were never given a choice in all this. I was never given a choice in all this.” Maya started to shake her head to stop him, to make him listen, he couldn’t leave her like this. It wasn’t fair.

“Please,” she choked.

“I decided I wanted to make a choice in all this. And you deserve one too,” his eyes on her were hard. And he took one step forward but then, he shrank from her eyeline getting onto both of his knees. He was actually kneeling before her, his hand now out of his pocket holding something. “I want you to choose me because it’s what you want. I want a life with you and I want us to create that together. Not because of the imprint or because of what is expected. But because you love me and I love you. I want…I want so bad to marry you, My. Will you marry me?”

The shiny glimmer of tears caught in the corners of his eyes as he stared up at her. Maya took the last few steps toward him slowly, her mouth open in shock as tears flowed freely over her cheeks now. The ring glittered in his hands, a large oval shaped diamond set in a delicate gold band. Maya was crying completely now, the tears beginning to blur her vision and she couldn't quite catch her breath.

“Will you—” he tried again but Maya cut him off quickly.

“Yes, yes I will! Yes, Paul. Yes,!” she sank to her knees before him and he tugged her forward, kissing her through her tears as the waves crashed and roiled below them.

Next > >

#twilight fanfiction #taking time #paul lahote pairing #paul lahote #paul lahote x oc #twilight fanfic #the twilight saga #twilight wolf pack #trigger warning #maya and paul #chapter fifty four #jacob black #leah clearwater #twilight

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roanofarcc · 11 months ago

Text

UNDERWATER KISSES

percy jackson x annabeth chase

requested ! sometime after TBOO. percy & annabeth enjoy a day at the beach.

...

“Are you watching?”

Annabeth pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head, despite the bright rays of sun that beat down on the beach.

“I’m watching,” she replied, cupping her hands around her mouth so her boyfriend could hear from where he stood in knee-deep water. She sat on a towel laid out on the sand, attempting to split her attention between the book in her lap and Percy splashing around in the water.

He grinned wildly before a wave a little larger than the rest grew behind him. Percy jumped into the wave as it approached him and disappeared under the water for a moment before his body washed up on shore at Annabeth’s feet. As the wave retreated, Percy laid on the wet sand, giggling like a little kid.

It had been too long since the two of them had a chance to relax and act their age without the weight of the world on their shoulders. Annabeth had a hard time remembering the last time Percy looked so relaxed. His shoulders weren't fixed in a tense position nor were his fingers hovering over the pocket he kept Riptide in. He wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder, ready for something horrible to happen. Instead, Percy was laughing with sand in his hair and the sun kissing his skin, unbothered and undisturbed.

If it were up to Annabeth, she would make sure he was always like that. Unfortunately, the life of a demi-god never stayed calm forever, especially for a child of the big three, like Percy. Annabeth wanted to soak up every second of normalcy with him before the world was threatened, again.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he asked, pushing her out of her thoughts. She hadn’t realized she’d been staring at him. His sea glass eyes stared back from where he stretched out on the wet sand, the scars on his face faded and the worry lines smoothed from the salt water.

“I like you like this.”

Percy sat up and furrowed his brows. “Like what?”

Annabeth closed her book and tucked it back in her bag, where the hat from her mother and dagger were safely secured, just in case. She crawled off her towel and moved to sit beside him where the crashed waves kissed their legs before it was pulled back out. He instinctively wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and she leaned into his side like she had done a hundred times before, but it still made her face feel hot and caused little butterflies to flutter inside her stomach.

“Happy. Relaxed. And a little like a wet dog.”

Percy shook his head, causing his wet hair to spew droplets over her. She groaned and wiped the water from her face as she glared upwards at him. “Uncalled for, Seaweed Brain.”

The sunlight made his eyes sparkle the same way they did when she met him at camp when they were twelve years old and completely clueless as to what the future held for them. While she wished they had a normal childhood, free from the troubles they had faced both side-by-side and on their own, Annabeth would live through all of it again if that meant she ended up with Percy.

“I feel happy and relaxed because you’re here, Wise Girl.”

She smiled but it began to falter as unwanted thoughts crawled into her brain like sick little spiders. Of course, Percy noticed her mood shift, and he used his opposite hand that wasn't wrapped around her shoulder to brush some sand from her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she said, but not convincingly. “I just wish it could stay like this. I wish we could stay like this.”

“On a beach?”

Annabeth let out a breathy laugh. “Happy and relaxed. But I wouldn’t be opposed to living on a beach.”

“Why can’t it stay like this?” he asked, and she made a sound between a scoff and a huff.

“Come on-”

“Nope.” Percy removed his arm from her shoulder and stood up. The sun that hung behind his head gave him a halo of light, drenching him with a pretty golden glow. “You come on.” He outstretched his hand toward her, and she took it out of curiosity and a longing to be close to him for as long as she could before their lives were thrust back into inevitable chaos.

He said nothing as he led the way into the ocean. The water was a refreshing cool against Annabeth’s warm skin and the mixture of seashells and seaweed under her feet tickled.

Percy walked them out until the water was at Annabeth’s waist, then he turned around and grinned at her once more. That time, however, his smile was one of mischief and his eyes sparkled with a plan of some kind.

“What are we doing?” she asked, still holding his hand just above the water.

“We are pretending that things will always be this way. There are no more doomsdays coming or monsters hunting us. We are just normal half-bloods on a date, having fun, okay?”

Gods it sounded nice, so nice that Annabeth almost believed it to be true. She was a realist, a habit of being a child of Athena. She liked it when things were for certain, even if the certainty was a downer. But standing in the ocean with Percy, who was convincing with his toothy smile and wet curls plastered to his head, Annabeth liked the idea that their troubles were over and they finally had a chance to be normal.

She swallowed any negativity that threatened to leave her lips and let the lull of the calm sea relax her.

“Okay,” Annabeth said, squeezing his hand.

Percy squeezed her hand back before the mischievous grin overtook his whole face. Before she had time to react, he tugged on her hand hard and plunged into the water.

Annabeth was completely wrapped in the cool sea with closed eyes and no clue what direction she was moving. She didn’t panic because Percy still held onto her and she trusted him more than she trusted herself, but she did have a few choice words aimed at him rattling around her head.

She held her breath, but after they were underwater for a mere moment, a bubble appeared around her head and fresh air entered her lungs.

Opening her eyes and sucking in a couple of deep breaths, she glared at Percy. “A warning would have been nice!”

“That would’ve ruined the fun!” he said, occupying the same bubble of air as she was. He pulled her further out until the sea floor dropped out and fish swam in friendly circles around them. The surface wasn’t too far, close enough that Annabeth could have swum it with some ease, but far enough out that they wouldn’t be spotted by any beachgoers that happened to show up.

Percy turned around and faced her. Their noses were almost touching, and their hands were still clasped together. “Did I tell you that you look pretty today?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes playfully and pulled him closer so she could throw her hands over his shoulders. “Yeah, five times actually.”

“Good.” He hugged her waist and leaned his forehead against hers.

“You look pretty too,” said Annabeth, which caused a slight pink tint to spread across his cheeks. She reached up and brushed a curl from his forehead before closing the small gap between them. They kissed in the solitude and safety of the bubble, under the water, just like they had after defeating Kronos. They were so young back then, even though it was only a couple of years prior. It felt like a different lifetime until she was kissing him underwater again, and suddenly she was that twelve-year-old with a stupid crush on the boy who always believed in her.

#percy jackson and the olympians #the heroes of olympus #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #percy jackson x annabeth chase #pjo #percy jackson fic #annabeth chase fic #pjo series #izzy’s library

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sidekick-hero · 2 years ago

Text

Run Boy Run

It’s the summer of ‘86 and Steve should enjoy it like everybody else in Hawkins. They defeated Vecna, the Upside Down is closed for good (or so El says) and everyone he cares about is still alive, if a little bit worse for wear in the case of Max and Eddie. Steve should be fine, should feel safe, should act normal. But he isn't, he doesn't, he can't.

He has nightmares, every night, and sleeps four hours tops. They seep into his days, too, make his own mind a terrifying place. One day, when he's alone in that big, empty house of his, it becomes too much. He snaps. Barely manages to put on a pair of shoes before he's out the door, feet pounding on the asphalt, drowning out the loud screaming in his head.

It helps. He comes back an hour later, sweat-drenched and exhausted, and falls asleep on the couch before he can even get into the shower. Sleeps for seven hours straight, a record.

After that, he goes on runs more and more often. Buys actual running shoes when his Nikes won't do anymore. He's able to sleep after those runs, is able to let go some of the anxiety that's clawing at his insides. It quiets his mind and that's all Steve can wish for these days.

The first time he ends up at the trailer park is by accident. It's just close to the woods where he always ends up lately, tired of all the curious eyes on him when he runs through town. When he sees the familiar sight of it he slows down, contemplates just running past it, but his legs ache and his mouth is as dry as the dessert. Maybe Max is at home.

It's Eddie he finds instead, out on the trailer steps, smoking. Steve jogs over to him, a genuine smile at the sight of him. When Eddie looks up and sees him, his cigarette drops from his mouth.

"What a sight for sore eyes, Harrington. Want to relive the old jock days?" He asks with a playful glint in his eyes.

Steve shakes his sweaty hair like a dog at Eddie in retaliation. "Shut up, Munson. Running is a great way to exercise.”

“Pffft, the only reason to run is away from something.”

“If you say so. Hey, could I get water before running back? It’s hot today.”

Eddie looks him up and down, bare legs up to his upper thighs, his running shorts and the sweat drenched shirt clinging to his torso.

“Sure is, Big Boy. Gimme a sec, I’ll get you something.”

He comes back with a bottle of water and a towel. Steve takes the bottle and gulps half of it down as if he had never had anything better in his life. It certainly feels like it right now. Satisfied, he pours the remaining water over his head to cool the rest of him.

He uses the towel Eddie gave him to wipe his face, and as he lowers it, he finds Eddie staring at him with a dazed expression, mouth slightly open, eyes unblinking.

He throws the wet towel in Eddie's face and cackles at the indignant stutter.

"You asshole! See if I ever help you in your time of need."

Steve just smirks at him over his shoulder, ready to start the long run back. "You looked like you were in need too, Munson. To wipe up the drool.”

Before Eddie can say anything in return, Steve is off at a brisk pace, feeling smug and invigorated.

Despite Eddie's threat, he gets Steve some water and a towel the next time he stops. And the next. And the one after that. It becomes a routine, the trailer park becoming his regular pit stop, his safe haven to refuel. Eddie is always waiting for him with water and a towel, sometimes a granola bar, and always a blinding smile and a flirty one-liner.

"Just looking at you, Harrington, makes me sweat."

"Maybe you should lose some layers, Munson. How've you not had heatstroke?"

"If you want to see me shirtless, all you have to do is ask, sweetheart."

The nightmares and anxiety attacks don't magically go away just because Steve starts running, but he is getting better at dealing with them. They become more manageable, less frightening.

Things are finally looking up, which is why he's unprepared for a particularly bad nightmare on an ordinary Monday night. He falls asleep on the couch, watching a few reruns, and wakes up to the sound of his own screams, images of snapping bones and oceans of blood flooding into his mind.

He's on the verge of a panic attack, feeling his windpipe tighten and his lungs burn. So he does the only thing he can think of — he runs. He doesn't even change into his running clothes, just puts on his shoes and sprints out of the door.

It's not like his usual runs, because this time he just doesn't stop. He runs until there is nothing left in him but the pounding of his feet on the ground, the aching legs, and the dizziness that comes from exhaustion.

In the end, though, his feet carry him to the only safe place he knows, just as the sun begins to set.

The scene is reminiscent of their first meeting here, Eddie on the steps of his trailer having a smoke, and the sight at last calms something in Steve, gives his mind something else to concentrate on, something other than death and blood and sorrow.

Eddie looks up at the sound of approaching footsteps and is on his feet in seconds, stumbling toward him before he's even fully upright.

"Jesus Christ Harrington, you look like you could keel over any second." Which is exactly what Steve does, his legs giving way and his body being caught by Eddie's arms around him before he hits the ground.

"Steve, hey, man, what the fuck? What happened?" They're both on the ground. Steve's in Eddie's arms, his legs folded under him. His legs hurt, but the pain is a distant sensation, like it's not his own. He’s cold, skin clammy and he feels nauseous. Eddie looks at him with big, worried eyes and Steve tries to stand up again, to show Eddie that he's okay.

He manages, but only because Eddie is shouldering most of his weight.

"Nightmare. It was bad. Real bad. So I just... Started running. I don't know how long? Just couldn't stop. Not until I saw you."

"Okay," is all Eddie says before he leads Steve into the trailer, almost carrying him as if Steve weighs nothing. Eddie is stronger than he looks, and the thought nestles deep in his mind, ready to be examined later.

Inside, Eddie sets him down on the couch. "Stay here, I'll get you something to drink."

He returns with water and dextrose, hands both to Steve and tells him to take slow, small sips or he'll get sick. At Steve's questioning look at the dextrose, Eddie shrugs and mumbles something about stocking up for his weird jock friend.

"How do your legs feel?" Eddie sits down on the couch next to him and Steve sips his water, already feeling a little better. When he touches his leg it hurts like hell, the muscles are too tense under his sweatpants.

He looks up at Eddie and says, "Sore. And stiff, like moving it will make it worse."

And then he does just that, lifting his bent leg and screaming in pain as his thigh immediately begins to cramp. He tenses up all over, tries to stand up, knows that moving the muscle helps with leg cramps, but apparently not this time. This time the other leg cramps as well.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! It hurts." He falls back on the couch and presses both hands to his legs, trying to knead away the contracting knots in his thigh muscles, but to no avail.

Then Eddie is there, pushing him backwards and down on the couch, taking Steve's legs in his lap, pulling down Steve's sweat soaked sweatpants to get a better grip and starting to massage the leg closest to him. Steve reaches for the left one and presses down on it again, can't really get a good grip on it, but the pressure is enough to get the muscles to relax a bit.

Eddie's hands are sure, precise. He expertly massages along the cords of the muscles, starting with firm strokes to warm them up and get the blood flowing again. Next, he begins to knead the muscles, first lengthwise, then across. Steve feels the tension seep out of them, the muscles loosen and the pain subsides. The feeling is heavenly and he composes odes to Eddie's hands in his head.

Satisfied with how Steve's thigh muscles have softened in his capable hands, Eddie moves to the left, giving it the same treatment. Steve leans back on the couch, exhausted from the pain, from his run, from the nightmare that brought him here in the first place. He's tired, so tired. The repetitive movement of Eddie's hands on his legs soothes his mind like the equivalent of white noise.

"Where did you learn to do this?" His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and his eyelids keep dropping, but he has to know. Eddie keeps surprising him and Steve can't get enough.

Eddie's hands pause on his sweaty skin and Steve wonders if he said something wrong, wants them to go on, is already addicted to the way they feel on his body.

They continue when Eddie answers his question, his voice soft, careful. "There's this book I found in the library. And it talked about cramps and what to do about muscle strain and overexertion. Just. I remembered what it said when I saw you."

Steve blinks at him, once, twice, before asking, "A book? What book? Why would you read about muscle strai - Oh." Eddie ducks his head, hiding behind strands of his curly hair. "You read a book about running for me." It's not even a question.

Eddie doesn't say anything, which says more than enough, and continues to massage Steve's thighs before moving down to Steve's calves. He kneads the muscles there with the same devotion and Steve melts into the cushions beneath him. Now that the pain is gone, he can enjoy the feeling of firm hands lathering his body with attention.

As Eddie's hands move back up his legs, it feels less like a massage and more like a massage. The touch feels less functional, more sensual, purposeful in a different, exciting way. He feels blood rushing not only to his relaxing muscles, but to other places as well. Steve can't bring himself to care, even though he knows his arousal will soon be visible in his boxers. They've been dancing around each other for months, their flirting all bark and no bite.

He hopes that changes now.

Eddie's hands reach his thighs again, and Steve knows the moment when Eddie sees that Steve's half-hard by his hitching breath and clenching hands. He looks up at Steve's face and his eyes are wide, pupils already dilated, giving him a wild look. A hungry look.

"Steve?" Almost a whisper.

Steve has been running away from his nightmares, his fears, for weeks, but maybe, just maybe, he has also been running towards something.

Toward this.

“You read a book about running for me.”

“I did.”

“You wait for me, every day, to stop by. You take care of me.”

“I do.”

Steve has been running towards them.

“You want to touch me.” They both know he doesn’t mean a massage.

“I do. So bad, Steve. Want to touch you so bad.”

He's been running toward Eddie all along.

“I want you to. Please, Eddie. Touch me.”

It’s all the invitation Eddie needs. He yanks down Steve’s boxers and Steve holds his breath, waits for Eddie’s hand on him.

He gets Eddie’s mouth instead and can’t help the “Fuck,” he almost screams at the sensation of wet heat around the sensitive head of his cock.

His legs are still in Eddie’s lap and the angle is kind of awkward, must be hell on Eddie’s back, but the guy is not only surprisingly strong, but also flexible. He bends over Steve’s legs, his hands on Steve’s hips to hold him still as he swallows down Steve’s dick like it’s his favorite meal.

Steve’s hands find their way into Eddie’s wild mane, burying themselves in the silky strands. There is not much he can do but hold on for the ride.

It’s messy, it’s desperate and downright filthy how Eddie chokes himself on Steve’s dick, swallowing him down until he can bury his nose in the coarse hair at the base of Steve’s considerable length. Steve feels Eddie’s throat constrict around it, feels him gag as it hits his palate, but Eddie doesn’t stop, just encourages Steve with wet, pleading eyes and his hand gripping Steve’s where it’s buried in Eddie’s hair to fuck his mouth.

Steve moans at that, mind blown by the sheer hotness that is Eddie Munson. “You sure?” he still has to ask, has to make sure, holds himself back until he sees Eddie nod, feels him tap Steve’s hip once, twice, three times and knows that’s how Eddie will tell him to stop if it gets too much.

Another broken moan rips from Steve’s throat as he starts to slide his dick in and out of Eddie’s throat. He starts of slow, tries to savor the feeling even if his leg protest under the strain. Eddie moans around him, the vibration doing nothing for his already thin self-restraint, hips speeding up without Steve wanting them to. It’s just. It’s too much, too good, Steve too keyed up already.

“God, Eddie, shit. So good. So hot. I’m close, so close, please, can I come in your mouth, please,” he babbles, brain-to-mouth filter fried by the hottest blowjob he’s ever gotten. Eddie hums at his request, thumb stroking over his hipbone and eyes locking with Steve’s in a silent plea to do just that.

It only takes four more thrusts for Steve to lose it, to bury himself deep inside of Eddie’s throat while he comes harder than he can remember. It seems to go on forever, the cum dripping out of Eddie’s mouth and into Steve’s lap despite Eddie’s best efforts to swallow it all. When it gets to be too much, the pleasure turning into pain at the overstimulation, he cups Eddie’s cheek, presses his thumb to the corner of Eddie’s mouth where it’s stretched wide by Steve’s dick.

Eddie gets the hint and lets Steve slide out of his mouth, licks his lips, tongue catching on a stray drop in the corner of his mouth and it’s so hot Steve wishes he could get hard again this soon.

“Fuck, that was hot, Harrington.” Eddie’s voice is raspy, fucked out and Steve loves the sound of it.

“You just had my dick in your mouth. Call me Steve, okay?”

Eddie grins. “Fuck, that was hot, Steve,” he says and captures Steve’s lips in a searing kiss.

As Steve slides his tongue into Eddie’s mouth and tastes himself, he thinks that they could add this to their routine. He would like that very much.

_________________

A little self-indulgence from a passionate runner who just wants to see Steve in his tiny shorts again (I miss you S2!Steve).

As usual, thank you so so much to @legitcookie and @yournowheregirl for your unending support, great cheerleading and pep-talking as well endless supply of ideas. This would still be just a thought in my head without you 🫶

READ ON AO3

#steddie ficlet #steddie #stranger things ficlet #steve harrington x eddie munson #my writing #nsft #PWP

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