#down in the deep queue sea

[skyllion-uwu]

We need more transfem furries making music. I know there's a lot but we could always use more

[skyllion-uwu]

@dyggot

[liodain]

Hells for Leather

The Forsaken and the Forsworn | Pirate era Hugo/Gabriel | 5.2k words | Explicit Blood and Gore, Boot Worship, Boot Blacking, Service Submission, Power Dynamics

There's liking something, and there's a different kind of liking something, and maybe Gab's of a mind to figure out what makes that difference tonight.

[sun-kissy]

chocolate-coated hearts | r.l.

୨ৎ series masterlist

barista!remus x shy!reader

summary: you go to a new cafe to order donuts for your friend, immediately enamoured with the barista

tw: nothing? reader takes literature as a major, also kind of has social anxiety

a/n: might make this a series! i’ve got a few ideas <3

An anxious sigh escapes you as you stand idly outside the cafe, peering inside through the mosaicked windows. It was jam-packed, people pushing past each other and snake-like queues forming throughout the space. You wriggle your phone out of your coat pocket and glance at the message that your friend, Madison, had sent in a half hour ago.

hey gorgeous!! mind picking up a few donuts for me at Beanie’s before you come over? a few of the pbj ones, and some chocolate ones too. thanks xx

She was expecting, and you went by whenever you could to help her out after her asshole of a boyfriend left.

Normally, you wouldn’t bother. You hated crowded places, and Beanie’s was the definition of crowded – an old-style cafe which had blown up overnight because of its scrumptious donuts and vintage aesthetic. But who were you to deny the cravings of the woman bearing your goddaughter?

You take a deep breath and push the creaky wooden door open, cringing at how the bell rang and signalled the whole cafe to your presence. But no one so much as looked up, busy trying to buy or sell food, or find a table.

You push your way through the sea of people, joining the queue in front of the counter. It was long, you noted, and would probably take another fifteen minutes or so until it was your turn to place an order. You fish out your crumpled book from your bag and turn it to the page you had stopped on yesterday. It was the second classic of the term – Pride and Prejudice. Taking literature as a major meant you spent more time reading than anything else, but you weren’t complaining.

As you read, you scribbled down plot points to take note of and quotes which meant something worth writing about. Your eyes stayed glued to the page, trying to work out hidden meanings and flowery language. Once you were back home, you’d have to compile all your analysis onto that worksheet Professor Ragnarsson had given out, write the 10-page long review, and then –

“Hey! Shut the damn book and order, will you?”

Your heart jumps in your chest at the sudden harsh tone. You close your book and whip your head around to see a middle-aged man glaring at you before peering down at his watch. “There’s a long queue, and we don’t have all day.”

The heat rushes to your cheeks as you open your mouth to apologise – but before you can say anything, you hear an oddly soothing voice from behind you. “Hey, don’t be a jerk. She didn’t know the counter was open.”

You glance back towards the counter, and you swear your heart stopped beating for a second. Angelic was an understatement to describe the man standing in front of you, tall and lanky and absolutely fucking beautiful.

His chestnut brown hair perfectly framed his pale face, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance as he glanced at the rude customer behind you. There were pinkish scars tracing from above his eyebrows to right below his lips, but they looked golden under the orange light – he looked like some kind of heavenly being.

When his eyes dart back to you, his expression instantly softened, lips tilting upwards in a smile. You thought you would melt into a puddle right there and then just by gazing into his warm, honeyed eyes. “Hi, gorgeous. What can I get you?”

You blink, your mouth involuntarily falling open slightly. Gorgeous? Was he talking to you? Maybe he was referring to the man behind you.

His smile widens, and that does absolutely nothing to calm the feeling of your heart bouncing around in your stomach. “It’s okay if you can’t choose just yet, I know the number of options can be…” he chuckles, “overwhelming. Take all the time you need to decide.”

Oh my god, you thought. His laugh sounded musical, like the tender feeling of being enveloped in a warm embrace. You’d put it on a record player and play it on loop for hours if you could.

“Hurry the fuck up –”

“One more word from you and you won’t be getting your coffee today, buddy,” the godly-looking barista snapped in a slightly louder tone at the man behind you, face contorted in irritation.

You hear silent cursing behind you, a twinge of embarrassment turning you red. You quickly glance back up. “Sorry, hi, hello. I’ll um… I…” the words were on the tip of your tongue, but seemed to dissolve when he glanced at you with those agonisingly pretty eyes and kind smile.

Snap out of it, you internally curse as you open your mouth again. “I’ll get three peanut butter-jelly donuts, and four chocolate donuts.”

“Okay. Which chocolate ones?” he asks, tapping his tongs against the display dome with stacks of donuts. There really were a lot of options – chocolate sprinkles, belgian chocolate, chocolate glazed, double chocolate – your mind seemed to freeze up for a second. Which one would Madison want?

You quickly look behind you, seeing the man’s face twisted up in what looked like rage. It seemed to be taking him all his willpower not to lash out at you, and the customers behind him didn’t look much far off.

You turn back to the counter, eyes wide with panic as you feel the blood rush to your head. You had never been good at this; thinking and choosing on the spot. That’s why Subway was always a no-go for you, that’s why Madison had specifically told you what to get her – just that she hadn’t been specific enough. “I… I’m not sure. I think, um…”

“Hey, take it easy,” you look back up to see Remus giving you a reassuring smile, a slight hint of concern on his face. Your despair must have been embarrassingly evident, then. “It’s alright if you can’t choose. Do you want me to pick for you?”

You ought to have been humiliated, the way you immediately nodded and gave in to his offer. But he just gave you an easy smile and nodded, picking up one of each type and placing them in the box.

“Thank you,” you mumble sheepishly as you move to the payment counter, fishing in your bag for a wad of notes.

“Of course,” he grins, and it was so bright you thought it could probably light up the whole cafe. “That’ll be $15.90.”

As he waits for you to pay, he takes a quick look down and begins to brush crumbs off his apron. You look up at the wrong moment, eyes immediately fixing on the curves of his biceps visible through his T-shirt, and his slender fingers.

He glances back up at you, catching a glimpse of your flustered look and instantly smirking. You look away abashedly, counting the money and handing it to him.

The brush of your fingers against his calloused palm sent a jolting shock through you as you quickly pull back, not missing the way his smile widened as he cashed the money into the register.

“Thanks for visiting, sweetheart. Hope to see you again soon.”

You don’t reply, afraid you’d crumble into a blushing, gooey mess. Flashing him a brief, nervous smile, you pick up the box of donuts before turning around and heading straight for the exit. Sweetheart.

You huff as you open the door and step outside, pulling out your phone to complain to Madison all about the stupidly handsome barista at her favourite cafe. God, he really knew what he was doing.

[perfectly-m1saligned]

(Late) K!nktober day 8

Following @dreamlandcreations prompt list. Day 8: gun play; dirty talk. You can find all my stories on my Wattpad as well. Toodles!

(NSFW: MDNI!! Reader's discretion is advised)

Simon Riley x reader

(Stalker!Simon)

cw: gunplay, dubcon (?), unprotected piv, creampie

word count: 2400

a/n: I'm very sorry for this delay, but you're getting double fed tonight!!

The music was deafening, the lights painting your body in different coloured hues, making the people around you look like they were in a stop-motion movie, making you dizzy if you looked too hard. Halloween, the night of the witches, night of the dead, whatever; to you, and your friend who was walking next to you, was the night of the sluts, which meant belt-sized skirts and the tiniest tank tops ever.

Dumping Jackson a week before Halloween was like a godsend. It stung deep in your pride, seeing him fuck that blonde bimbo in the bathtub at your friend Jessica’s party. It didn’t exactly hurt because you loved him or anything, it just infuriated you how he’d had the audacity to disrespect you like this. You mourned the loss for all of two hours after coming home from the party, then the pain was gone.

“y/n, I’m going to grab us a couple of shots at the bar!” Helen said over the loud thumping music, stretching herself up on her tippy toes despite wearing those safety hazards that she called ‘shoes’. You nodded, watching her disappear in a blink of an eye in the sea of people that littered the dance floor. You took your phone out, groaning at the sight of Jackson’s messages piling, along with phone calls. Apparently, fucking that girl had been a “terrible mistake” and he was “piss drunk”, but sober enough to get his dick hard and stick it in another girl’s cunt somehow.

Since Helen was taking too much time getting your drinks, most likely due to the monstrosity of a queue that lined the bar, you decided to go wait with her since you had nothing better to do. When you finally spotted her, two hot guys dressed as jacked angel and devil were talking to her. She met your gaze, and winked, making you smirk. The guys seemed nice, and you all took shots together, until a pleasant buzz filled your head, and the cute devil had to support you by wrapping his arm around your waist.

“You girls want to go to VIP?” He said, his lips grazing the shell of your ear, his captivating green eyes peering down at you, his lips curled in a sexy little smirk. You were more than looking forward to spending the night with him, since Helen had his friend’s tongue already halfway down her throat, his hand cupping her ass from under her miniskirt. “Gotta hit the loo first.” You said, unfortunately feeling the weight of the booze aggravating on your bladder. When you turned to head to the restroom, you didn’t notice the black-clad figure on the other side of the room starting to walk as soon as you did.

Poor, silly, y/n, you thought he hadn’t followed you here? It was Halloween, after all, one of the most dangerous nights of the year, he had to look out for you. Plus, those guys totally weren’t your type, he was far better. He was the only right guy for you. You simply didn’t know yet.

The queue to the restroom was surprisingly short, since there were only two stalls, and in your alcohol-induced haze, you forgot to properly lock the door behind you. Strike three. He’d pinned you for a smart girl, but God, you could be so damn naive. Strike one: talking to that guy. Strike two: not locking the door behind you. Strike three: letting him get to you.

You were washing your hands, eyes looking down as you heard the faint sound of the creaky hinges move.

“Oi, it’s-” you froze, the water still running over your hands. He simply stood there, looking at you. The hood of his black hoodie was up, casting shadows over his face, hiding his features from you in the already dimly-lit space. Your heart started to hammer, threatening to slip out of the frail confines of your ribcage. Jackson? He wasn’t nearly as tall, or his shoulders as broad, but perhaps it was the sheer fear coursing through your veins right now that made him look bigger.

“J-Jackson? What are you doing here? I told you to leave me alone-” The man tsked, seemingly amused by your squeaky, feeble voice. “I’m no Jackson, bunny.” He replied, his baritone voice sending a chill down your bloodstream, making you shiver. “You know, y/n, I never liked him. You truly should look over your taste in men, because as of now, it’s shit.” You were utterly dumbfounded, the water still running behind you as you slowly turned around to face him. His imposing figure crowded the small space, looming over you.

“Who are you?” You asked, your voice shaky, barely above a whisper. You tried to look past him, but there was no way you could’ve escaped him, since he had most likely locked the door, like you should’ve done when you came in here. He took a step forward, some light exposing a razor-sharp jawline, covered in light stubble. “Who am I” He echoed, almost mocking. “I’m the only man who cares about you, y/n.”

When he removed his hood, your heart dropped to your ass. Simon. Simon Riley. He lived right across your apartment, on the other side of the corridor. Suddenly, although your cognitive processes were currently running a little slower than usual, the pieces started to come together. How he was coincidentally going downstairs to throw out the trash when you came up with groceries, and you always accepted his kind offer to help you unload them. Why sometimes you felt like someone was watching you, waking up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night, and you thought you heard your front door close, but always thought it was a dream.

“S-Simon?” You stuttered, bewildered. You took a step back, but the cold sink pressed into your lower back, faint splashes of water hitting your bare skin. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this, bunny,” he murmured, taking another step towards you, the sole of his combat boots making a squelching noise on the sticky floor. “I always had to see you with that son a bitch Jackson, I knew he wasn’t a good guy. He didn’t deserve you. I wasn’t surprised to learn he cheated on you.” How did he know? You had only talked about it on the phone, at home, alone- “Yes, y/n, I have cameras installed in your house,” he scoffed, reading your thoughts. He said it as if it was the most obvious thing on earth. “How else am I supposed to protect you, hm? Make sure you’re safe?”

Your chest was heaving, the sheer panic you were feeling not allowing you to move from your spot, slightly shaking. “Plus, I wouldn’t want to miss it for the world,” he began, taking another step forward. He stood inches away from you now, raising a gloved finger to your finger, running it over your jaw before hooking it under your chin, forcing you to tilt your chin, your eyes meeting his chocolate brown ones. “When you’ve drunk a couple glasses of wine, and you sit on the couch, your pretty little hand travelling between your thighs-” he scoffed. “Because, let’s face it, that guy couldn’t even give you a proper orgasm, y/n. What a sad excuse of a man he was, unable to please his woman?”

His finger wandered south, making you gasp as he stopped right between your heaving breasts. “Are you…going to hurt me?” You asked, gazing up at him through thick, black lashes. He cooed. “I would never, my sweet little bunny,” he murmured, his nose nuzzling the fold of your ear, his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin. “No one could treat you as good as I would, but it seems like you need a little bit more convincing.” You suddenly felt something cold tracing the inside of your thighs, making you whimper as it trailed up your flushed flesh. “Because apparently, you prefer to go with some fucking jerks who only want to use you for your body, y/n. And it makes me so. Fucking. Mad.” You stilled, realising he had a gun.

“S-Simon, no…please…” you cried out softly, already feeling the hot tears brimming your eyes. “Shh, shh,” he shushed you quietly, pressing a few butterfly kisses on your jawline. “I’d never hurt you, didn’t I just tell you that? Although…” his voice took on a menacing tone. “I won’t hesitate to put a bullet through that guy’s skull if you so let him put a hand on you again.” The top of the barrel made contact with your clothed core, feeling the steel barrel slide right between your folds. You shouldn’t have liked it, but the friction combined with your intoxicated state elicited a soft moan to slip past your lips.

“That’s it, such a good little slut,” Simon chuckled, biting into the rosy flesh of your neck. He immediately chased away the sting, running his flat tongue over the red mark left by his teeth. “You’re a twisted little thing, aren’t you? Getting wet on my gun, tch.” He mocked, a wolfish grin on his lips. “N-No, I…” He cut you off. “I know how much you had to hold yourself back with Jackson, he fucked you with no passion, and you let him treat you like a sex doll, bunny. He couldn’t give you what you really needed, but I can.” Another gasp ripped from your chest, feeling him move the flimsy fabric of your panties on one side with the gun, the cold steel collecting some of your arousal from your weeping cunt.

His other hand crept under your top, cupping one of your breasts, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, coaxing another sweet moan out of your lips. He finally closed the distance between you, bewitching you with a feverish kiss, his tongue immediately seeking out yours, tangling with it in a dizzying dance. He kneaded the plump flesh of your breast in his hand, the other guiding the barrel between your slick folds, teasing your entrance, and a growl rumbled in his throat as he felt his cock pulsating painfully in his jeans. You were responding so well to him, perhaps not in the right state of mind to actually understand what was going on.

He had started to become obsessed with you from the moment he saw you, when he moved into your building. Your sweet laugh, that cute smile that you should’ve reserved for him, and him only. You were perfect, yet you failed to see it, selling yourself short for pathetic boys like Jackson and that guy out there, who was probably wondering where you had gone. You were exactly where you belonged, with him. He could treat you better than anyone else; besides, he knew you so well, he knew everything about you. No one would love you like he did.

You had started to grind your hips over the barrel of the gun, chasing the heat that was coiling up in your stomach, the delicious friction against your clit bringing you closer to my release. Then you suddenly felt empty, and you groaned, frustrated, shooting him a glare. “W-Why did you…?” You gasped, feeling him trace the cold steel up your body, pushing it between your lips. “Take off my pants, y/n, I need to feel that sweet pussy around my cock.” You could taste yourself on the weapon, the tangy hint of your juices mixing with the feeling of the metal.

Inhaling a shaky breath through your nose, you started to fumble with the buckle of his belt, unable to see what you were doing, with your mouth full. “Faster.” Simon ordered, pushing the gun down your mouth, your throat clenching and making you gag slightly. You finally managed to get his jeans open, and pulled them down along with his boxer briefs, feeling his fat cock springing free, hitting your stomach. Simon’s hand left your chest, spitting down on his palm and then stroking his dick with it to avoid any discomfort. “Turn around, bunny.” He said, taking the gun out of your mouth.

You did as he said, meeting your reflection in the fogged mirror, his imposing frame looming behind you, and you shivered when you felt him pull his weapon to your head, the rush making your arousal leak down your legs. “You’re such a filthy whore, y/n. Say it,” He growled, lining the head of his cock with your weeping entrance, keeping the string of your thong to the side with his thumb. “Say you’re a filthy whore.” In one long thrust, he bottomed out inside of you, making you cry out, your gummy walls enveloping his shaft as he speared you open.

“I…I’m a- ah…f-filthy whore!” You whimpered, your hands curling around the cool ceramic of the sink, feeling it press onto your lower abdomen as Simon used the gun to bend you over. “Yes you are,” he cooed. “Fucking hell, bunny, you’re so soaked you’re going to drown me, baby.” His hips started to thrust into you at a punishing pace, your forehead pressing against the mirror, your hand slipping, closing the tap as you were pushed forward. “See, bunny, no one can fuck you like I do. Can you feel me inside of you? Fuck, look how bad your little pussy needs me, such a greedy little thing, needing to be filled.”

Your moans filled the grubby stall, the obscene sounds of his dick slamming into your cunt mixing with the noises of skin against skin. The heat was coiling back up quickly in your belly, Simon’s cock throbbing against your walls, meaning he was close as well. “I’m going to fill you up, and then you’re going to walk back with my cum leaking from this filthy cunt, yeah? You’re gonna go back to your friend Helen, saying that you got the best dick of your life.”

His words were muffled nonsense in your head now, your orgasm mounting quickly, until it crashed onto you like a truck. You clenched tight around him as you came, your squirt splashing on his lower abdomen. An animalistic grunt rumbled in Simon’s chest, thick white ropes of cum shooting inside you, filling you to the brim. You were left breathless, dazed and confused, feeling Simon’s seed flowing down your legs.

“I’ll see you at home, bunny. You’re mine now.” Simon whispered, leaving a chaste kiss against your temple, before he disappeared into thin air.

•This is an original work of fiction, please do not translate or share on this or any other platforms without credit•

[skyllion-uwu]

@dyggot

"Sorry for posting so much of x" baby you are on the posting so much website. We signed up for this. Spam me with your blorbo pictures I love them, genuinely. I love what you love. Its OUR special interest now. ♥️

[skyllion-uwu]

Patrick Bateman should have had a butler that calls him "Master Bateman"

[loveshotzz]

Is It New Years Yet?

steve harrington x fem!reader ✨Part One✨

Santa Tell Me

summary: When you meet Steve Harrington the first time it’s by accident, the second time a coincidence, and by the third he’s calling it fate.

wc: 8.1k

warnings: 18+ series, a christmas meet cute with steve who’s in his 30’s, smut in later chapters, drinking, smoking, eddie munson is our best friend/roommate, him and steve don’t know each other in this AU.

authors note: this wasn’t supposed to be this big or long but here we are. thank you for all your patience and sweet words, I’m so excited to share this with you.

series masterlist -> ✨ part two

The Marshall Fields feels alive with only three weeks left until Christmas, making it a next to impossible mission to get to your job in the restaurant that sits on top of the seven story tourist attraction. At least on time.

Bing Crosby’s ‘It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas’ spills from the speakers overhead, the deep baritone of his voice is barely audible over the low murmur of conversation happening all around you. Lush, large boughs of green pine hang pristine from the historically tall ceilings, shimmering tinsel draped with purpose at the ends of them catching in the light. It reflects off the gold ornaments that cover it in a perfect pattern. It’s almost enough for you to forget how annoyed you are.

Your slip resistant shoes catch and scuffle along the deep crimson carpet as you move through the shoulder to shoulder crowd. It doesn’t take you very long to find a break in it, still scratching at your nose that itches from your walk through the fragrance department. Your small victory is quickly diminished when you see a swarm of families standing in front of the golden doors of the elevators. 

You silently curse yourself for not leaving earlier, completely forgetting that Santa was on the fifth floor today. As if on queue, a little girl with perfect blonde curls that bounce as she runs smacks into your legs just like your realization, falling back on her butt with a thud. Her pearly white dress flutters around her, and the two of you stare each other down for what feels like an eternity until her mother rushes over with panicked apologies right as her daughter breaks out the waterworks. 

The noise makes you grimace, mumbling a ‘it’s fine’ under your breath before turning on your heel. Reaching behind, you pull your phone from your back pocket to see just how late you really are, accepting defeat with having to take the scenic, much more time consuming route up the escalators. The bold white numbers that flash across the screen tell you that you’re already five minutes past the start of your shift. A long sigh slips from between your lips as you give up on trying to rush. 

Moving with the flow of the crowd, the beginning jingle of Mariah Carey’s ‘All I Want For Christmas Is You’ starts to play, and with the grand spectacle of the yearly decorations, it’s hard not to feel all the emotions of nostalgia they’re trying to pull from you, making you roll your eyes singing along with her under your breath.

The big water fountain in the middle of the men’s department comes into view from the tops of bobbing heads, one of the many physical markers in this building you’ve had to use so you don’t get lost in the retail maze they’ve created, letting you know that you’re close to your destination. Weaving through the sea of people, you try to gear up to break free from the human traffic jam, the signs pointing to the escalators in your sights. His panicked voice is what you hear first, an obvious friendliness still hidden underneath it despite the way it shakes every time you hear him say “excuse me?” 

Your eyes search for the owner, and when you find him, regret buries itself deep in your gut when they land on his face.

A perfect mess of dark chestnut hair, with tips that look like they were dipped in honey sits on top of his head. The hints of gold hidden inside shimmer under the lights, as it curls wildly behind his ears. It almost looks styled that way, that is until you see his big hand run through it twice in the span of a few seconds. Warm brown eyes squint as he turns in a full circle glancing between his phone and the signs the point to the city street exits on either side of him. The hoards of people surrounding him completely ignoring his existence as he looks around painfully lost. 

His nose is sharp, just like his jaw that’s dusted with the faint  hint of a five o’clock shadow. The two prominent moles that sit side by side on his cheek stick out on his unseasonably sun kissed skin that seems to glow against the dark maroon color of his sweater. It’s snug across a broad chest, just like the washed out black jeans that fit a light too well around his thighs. His chocolate colored peacoat looks tailored to fit his biceps, with shiny gold buttons that match the buckle on his russet leather loafers, and the chain that dangles from around his neck. 

You watch him try to ask a few friendly faces for help, only receiving a shrug and a half smile by the ones that actually acknowledge him. He mutters something that sounds sarcastic to himself as you get closer, his hands moving animatedly before he huffs pinching the bridge of his nose. 

Maybe it’s the Christmas decorations, or the Mariah Carey, or maybe it’s just the fact that you’d rather take pity on a handsome stranger than go to your job. Whatever reason it is, you decide to make the stupid mistake to help him.

“Hey,” you greet timidly, getting just close enough to smell the cedar and cinnamon that seems to cling to the expensive wool of his coat, ignoring the way your stomach flips because of course he smells good right?  

“Are you lost?” 

He doesn’t hear you over the internal battle going on inside his head, not even registering that someone is finally stopping to offer the help he’d just been pleading for, quietly grumbling, ‘you wanted to move to the city, now you can’t even find your way through a damn store’.

You clear your throat before it can get anymore awkward, alerting him of your presence while letting your curious gaze wander up his tall broad frame. Those squinted brown eyes look big now as they meet yours, and you can see green inside them that you couldn’t before and it sparkles brighter than the tinsel hanging from the boughs behind him. 

Yeah, you’ve made a huge mistake.

He blinks a few times, before a wide smile stretches across his face somehow making him even more handsome as he reveals a set of perfectly straight teeth. The smile pushes up his cheeks, and crinkles the skin around his eyes, and you watch all the aggravation from before melt off of his perfectly sculpted face and you wish you could go back those few minutes in time and abort the mission. This is no damsel in distress.

“Hi” is all that he says, peony’s painting his cheeks as he runs his hand through his thick hair again. It looks even softer up close.

“Hey,” you giggle, nerves taking over and you want to pinch yourself for it. “I just wanted to see if you needed some help, you look a little lost.” 

You try to seem indifferent when you catch the way his gaze roams quickly down your body, thankful you did laundry last night and had on your tight fitting work slacks today that showed off your curves. 

“So lost!” He groans, the blush on his cheeks deepening with the tips of his ears. “If I’m being completely honest with you, I don’t even know what floor I’m on.”

You try to hide the way you snort, slapping your palm over your mouth.

“Hey, be nice!” He laughs, trying his best to fight it to put on a hurt expression, “this is like my first time here, okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you try to fight off you smile, “I didn’t mean to laugh at you ��“

“Steve,” interjects with a grin, those perfect teeth biting at his full bottom lip as he sticks out one of his hands for you to take, a gold band wrapped around his middle finger you didn’t notice before gleaming when it hits the light.

“Well, Steve,” you try not to laugh, which ends up being easy to do when you slip your hand into his and watch it disappear behind his long fingers when they wrap around them. “You’re on the first floor if you can believe it.

“That’s fucking embarrassing. Wow.” He groans, letting your hand go to run his palm down his face, and you hate that you feel the loss in your gut. “Sorry I didn’t mean to cuss.”

“I’ll let it slide this time,” You tease with a wink, enjoying the way it only makes the color on his face deepen. “Where are you trying to go? I work on the seventh floor. I might be able to take you on my way.”

It takes Steve a minute to formulate an answer to your offer, still stuck on the fact a complete stranger was being so nice to him, and the silence between you goes on just long enough to make you second guess everything.

“Or I could just try and give you directions if that’s more comfortable for you.” You offer, adjusting the straps of your backpack nervously.

“I’m trying to get to the women’s department,” Steve finally blurts out, sensing the shift in your energy and quickly tries to recover with another card through his hair and a crooked smile, “specifically the handbags, and I absolutely think you should take me.”

His gaze narrows the color in his eyes darkening into something more flirtatious than nervous. 

“Who knows how long it’d take me to get there without a beautiful, clearly smart woman such yourself to help me anyway.”

Your stomach does that thing that you hate again, and all the heat in your body licks at your cheeks like flames. You can’t remember the last time a man actually used the word beautiful. Hot? Absolutely. Cute? Sure. Pretty? Yeah, a few times, but never beautiful. It sits in your chest where it blossoms into another painfully big smile that pushes your cheeks up even more, and you have to look away from his face for a moment when he matches it with his own.

“O- okay, if you just, uh wanna follow me?”  Words get lost on your tongue and it comes out more shy than you would’ve liked, but you turn on your heel before you can think too hard about it when he gestures you forward.

You hear him mutter ‘are you kidding me?’ under his breath as you lead him to the escalators just around the corner, making him realize how close they were this whole time and you wonder just how long he was actually looking for them. The smell of mint hits your nose as you pass the Frango chocolate stand and it mixes with the spice of his cologne as he trails close behind. Butterflies threatening to break from cocoons hearing the way his steps match yours. 

He stops next to you as you come to halt to wait your turn to hop onto the moving metal steps. You look up at him and there’s an awkwardness that threatens to fill the small space between you that has you giving him a tight lipped smile that he returns with the kind of confidence that makes your palms sweat and you have to look away. 

“I say we make our move after white puffer coat comin’ up here.” His voice startles you when it comes out low, close enough to the shell of your ear that you swear you can feel the whisper of his lips. Spearmint stings your nose from the gum that snaps between his teeth, and the heat of his breath makes goosebumps jump along the back of your neck. 

Why did you do this?

You meet his gaze from the corner of your eye, letting him see the playful glint that dances in them before giving a curt nod of your head.

“On the count of three…” You play along, despite everything inside you telling you to stop flirting back and it makes Steve’s whole face light up, long fingers flexing at his side with the need to find yours again.

“One..” He starts, and your eyes meet ‘white puffer coat’ who’s now only a few steps away before finding Steve’s again who’s stare very obviously never left your face.

“Two..” You giggle trying to hide the way your body starts to buzz and if it wasn’t for Steve’s giddy expression you’d be more embarrassed than you actually are.

“Thre-“ His final count gets cut off by the feeling of your fingers wrapping around his, tugging him onto the stairs early with a loud cackle that has you throwing your head back and he swears the sound tilts his world off its axis.

His cheeks dust pink under the bright light looking down his nose at you with a wide smile that shows all his teeth. An expensive loafer sits wedged between your work shoes and the other on the step above, caging you against the side as you ride up to the next floor, and he’s close enough for you to see a smattering of more freckles that dot the bridge of his nose and the side of his neck, even one on the tip of his earlobe.

He’s still holding your hand.

Your fingers twist and flex at the realization, dropping from his hold and Steve clears his throat because of it. Adam’s apple bobbing as you land on the second floor, he shoves his hand in his pocket, standing a more appropriate distance from you as you get on the next set of stairs going up.

“So what’s on the seventh floor?” He asks, finally breaking the silence that crackles with something you aren’t prepared for today.

“Oh, um, The Walnut Room.” you know where the big Christmas tree is?” You answer with a small smile and it makes him snort, the noise making your eyes go big and the corners of your lips twist up more.

“I couldn’t find the escalators, you think I know where the big Christmas tree is? Don’t flatter me so much or I’ll think you’re flirting with me, honey.” Steve grins, the cool air of confidence from before coming back and you hate that it makes your cheeks burn even worse the second time around.

“Well,” you start unable to bring yourself to meet his gaze as the two of you make your way to the next set of escalators with nerves rattling in your chest as the new floor brings more people, and it makes it impossible for him to keep his distance this time, “now you know where it is.” 

“Is that an invitation?” He smirks looking down at you, teeth gleaming even whiter from this close and butterfly wings tickle at your rib cage.

“Getting a new purse for your girlfriend?” You ask in an attempt to dodge his obvious flirting, doing your best to ignore the way his fingers keep bumping into yours as you share the same step.

“Mom, actually. No girlfriend.” Your obvious prying makes something smug flash behind his eyes. “Is that the answer you were hoping for?” 

You huff with a roll of your eyes, unable to fight the way your cheeks push up again despite the shake of your head earning a deep chuckle from Steve who can see right through you.

“I actually just moved here, maybe a month ago,” he starts, your heart sinking a little at his reveal and your walls that had started to slowly retreat quickly go back up the few inches they dared to come down. “M parents, they’re….they’re tough to impress, and I’m just trying to find something nice for my Mom. Something that screams ‘Hey! Merry Christmas! I didn’t make a big mistake moving here!’ You know?”

You nod with the kind of laugh that makes his eyes sparkle at the noise.

“A purse absolutely says that, I think.” Your words drip with sarcasm as the two of you make your way onto the third floor, shoulders bumping as you turn towards the next set of moving stairs, both your feet landing on the same metal step again. 

“You know, I thought so too.” He beams, not missing a beat. “What about you? Got any fun plans with your boyfriend for Christmas?”

Before you have a chance to answer, an impatient woman choosing to walk the escalators in the kind of rush you should really be in knocks into Steve’s back with her shoulder, making him lose his balance and stumble into you. Large hands grab at your waist to steady himself, the warmth of his palms spreading through your body as it seeps through the thin material of your slacks. The steady beating in your heart stutters before your pulse kicks into overdrive when the mint on his breath fans against your neck for the second time as he mutters an apology finding his balance again. You bite at the inside of your cheek when he finally lets you go, straightening up to his full height again.

“Gotta love the holidays.” You laugh, letting out a shaky breath that threatens to give you away.

“It’s the most wonderful time of the year, or that’s what they say.” Steve sighs, running his fingers through his hair again. 

He somehow leaves it even messier than before, and you have to fight the urge to fix it for him, as the top of the fourth floor comes into view along with the end of your time with the man you only half way regret helping now.

“The answer to your question is no, by the way.” You finally speak up, a mischievous glint in your eye that matches your smile.

“No you don’t have any fun plans? Or No you don’t have a boyfriend?” He tries to clarify, with the kind of lopsided grin that has your knees wobbling under it.

You don’t have time to recover when the ground underneath you stops moving as you both hit the bright red carpet of the women’s department. The fast moving crowd and the fact that you’re pushing nearly twenty minutes late for work is the perfect escape you need to get yourself out of making the mistake of staying long enough for the charming new to the city bachelor to ask for your phone number. 

“Handbags are over there.” You point to the giant Michael Kors logo that shines gold against a hot pink wall behind him, and you seize the moment he turns to follow the direction of your finger to hop back onto the escalators without a word.

You laugh echoes and bubbles over the even happier sounds of the Christmas music when Steve turns around to find you already half way up to the fifth floor.

“Really?” He throws his hands up, watching as you climb higher.

“I’m late for work! I hope your mom likes her gift!” You wave with the kind of smile that he’s sure will haunt his dreams tonight, that makes the corners of his lips twitch despite himself. “It definitely screams you didn’t make a mistake! Nice meeting you Steve!”

It had been four days since your run in with Steve, and much to your dismay that disheveled head of hair didn’t want to leave your mind no matter how much you tried. His breath stealing smile, and freckled skin invaded every day dream and even found their way into the ones in your sleep. No matter how many times you tell yourself that a man who looks like that has endless opportunities in a city like this, and he’s not going to tie himself down with a waitress who still splits her rent with a roommate. 

A change of scenery and a day off spent alone at the Christmas market is almost enough to do the trick as you search for ornaments to put on the tree your roommate Eddie tried to stop you from getting, arguing that he’d have to be the one to take care of it if you got a real one. Which to be fair, ended up being true, but when you catch him reading Lord of the Rings under its twinkling lights, you don’t think he minds it all that much.   

A few ornaments, two hot ciders, and a record shop later, you find yourself waiting for the train home looking at the sunset that paints the skyline in sherbet orange and red behind shimmering buildings. Lost in the music that spills from your AirPods, flashing lights catch at the corners of your eye, and the sounds of the holiday train start to get louder as its bright presence rolls up to the platform. The Santa that you know has to be freezing waves at everyone that’s waiting as it pulls in, and you can’t stop the way your cheeks push up despite the annoyance you would have normally felt if you were actually commuting somewhere in a rush.

The workers dressed as elves greet you with baskets of candy cane’s and bright smiles when the doors open, and relief floods your system when you see the train car is mostly empty. You give them a friendly wave and a nod, accepting the sweet treat before claiming your seat for the nine stops you needed to pass to get home. Red and green string lights flash strung up from the ceilings, and the silver metal poles that stick through the middle now resemble the candy they're passing out. The white fluorescent lighting that usually washes everyone out is replaced with a deep blue, and the faint sounds of  Wham’s ‘Last Christmas’ battles for dominance with the music in your headphones.

Relaxing into your seat, you let the steady rocking of the train lull you back into your thoughts, disappointed when they inevitably go back to the man you’ve been trying to forget. Thighs pressing at the memory at the feeling of his hands grabbing at your hips on the escalator, you huff and cross your arms in a silent pout. How can you have a crush on someone you don’t even know? 

The car starts to fill up more and more as the stops go, and by the third one you’re squeezing your tote bag to your chest with people surrounding you as they hold onto the plastic handles above your head. It’s hard to see anything above anyone’s waist, and you shuffle a little awkwardly in your seat. The spot in front of you frees up by the next stop and at the same time your AirPods die, a sigh of relief slips past your lips at the brief reprieve before the group waiting outside scurries in. That’s when you hear him…again.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. First the damn bus, now the train? Jesus fuck- exuse me, god, I’m gonna be so late.”

The familiar smell of cedar and cinnamon envelopes your senses when a pair of black dress slacks fill your vision with a gold belt buckle on his waist that matches the chain you already know is dangling from his neck, and the ring on the hand that’s gripping the handle above you. 

You curse under your breath, taking your AirPods out and the muffled sound of Dean Martin’s ‘Let It Snow’ becomes full volume, along with the clinking of the metal tracks when the train lurches forward. Leaning back in your seat, you let your eyes wander up his broad torso you’ve reluctantly thought so much about. Steve’s a little more dressed up than the last time you saw him with a white button up tucked into his slacks. You can still make out the outline of his tank top underneath, despite the dim lighting, and the way he leaves the top two buttons undone flashes you a little bit of chest hair. The chocolate peacoat is replaced with a black one that has buttons to match. It fits around his arms just as good as the other one. 

His five o’clock shadow is gone now, and he somehow has even more freckles than before. Too distracted by him to scold yourself for having the urge to find and kiss them all, his messy bed head look he had the other day is replaced with something a little more controlled, and you wonder how much product he needed to use, especially that despite it all, a stray still threatens to fall across his forehead. 

“Not a fan of the holiday train are we?” 

Steve jumps at the sound of your voice, his eyes looking every direction but down until you clear your throat. They widen when they land on you just like the smile that spreads across his face, wiping away any signs of annoyance that plagued his features just seconds before.

“You!” He almost laughs, and he’s even more handsome than you remembered and you wonder how long it's going to take you recover this time, “Oh wow —“ even in the blue light you can see the way the color in his cheeks redden when he realizes that his crotch is unintentionally in your face, “let me just -“

He scoots back as far as he can which isn’t much but it’s enough to make the position the two of you find yourselves in less awkward.

“Well, well, well so we meet again.” He practically beams taking in your appearance now that you’re not dressed to go wait tables, catching the way he licks his lips before bringing his eyes back to yours. 

“It would appear so Steve.” Your smirk, proud of yourself for keeping up the act of playing hard to get.

“What do they call these things? Christmas Miracles?” His confident demeanor reappears and you’re disappointed that it sets your body on fire just like before.

Your snort loud enough for him to hear, earning you a deep chuckle from his chest that gets him that smile of yours he can’t stop thinking about.

“You think you’re so smooth don’t you?” You tease, biting at your bottom lip, meeting his eyes from under your lashes watching the way it makes the green and gold inside them turn into something darker.

“Not really, but I think it’s working for you.” He winks, closing the space he made between you to let someone off behind him holding your stare from down the slope of his nose.

You narrow your eyes at him before you roll them but the twitch of your lips gives you away making his grin turn Cheshire.

“Where are you off to this dressed up? Hot date?” You question with an arched brow.

“For someone who’s pretending not to have a crush on me, you’re certainly fixated on if I’m dating someone aren’t you?” Shaking his head, he’s even more smug than he was on the escalators, “but no, beautiful, I’m on my way to meet a business partner for dinner.”

There he goes using that word beautiful again.

“What about you? The missing uniform tells me it must be your day off, spend it with that boyfriend of yours?” Steve smirks trying to get the definitive answer you refused him a few days ago.

“You’re calling me fixated? I’m not the one obsessing over an imaginary boyfriend I made up for someone else.” 

Steve throws his head back in a booming laugh as a bright smile lights up his face in a way that rivals the train. 

“I bet you think you’re so funny don’t you?” He mimics your previous sentiment with an intensity in his gaze that has you squirming in your seat.

“Not really, but I think it’s working for you.” Biting your lip as you wink, his hold around the handle tightens, and the gold in his eyes darken more. “I’m surprised you’re heading out of the loop so dressed up, where’s this hot business date?”

Steve’s smile falters, and the color you’re so used to warming his face drains along with the intensity of his gaze.

“What do you mean out of the loop?” That panic you’d heard shaking his voice a few days ago returns, as he tears his eyes away from you to look at the map above your head. 

“Oh no, Steve.” You realize the mistake he’s made before he does.

“No, no, no, no,” he groans, stomping a shiny wingtip oxford on the dirty ground. “God, Richard, fuck - he’s going to be so pissed at me.”

He says the last part more to himself, regripping his hold on the handle, brows furrowing as he pinches his eyes shut in frustration. His chest heaves a few times, and the veins in his neck start to show before you hear his quiet exhale over the sounds of ‘Jingle Bell Rock’.

“Hey,” You start, and sweetness drips from your tone as you resist the urge to reach out and comfort him, “I’m getting off on the next stop, you can come with me if you want and I’ll help you get on the right train. It’s an easy mistake, really. We’ve all done it.”

He doesn’t open his eyes immediately, and you can tell that he’s trying not to completely break down but slowly they blink back open and meet yours. The teasing edge behind them is gone as they soften around the edges with exhaustion.

“I think I owe you my life at this point, honestly.” He huffs with a weak laugh and you know if his hair wasn’t done his hand would be running through it right now. 

“Just a little bit.” You tease pinching two fingers together with a scrunch of your nose.

“Thank you,” he holds your stare, sincerity painting his features with something that makes you want to stand up and hug him. 

“Anytime,” you shrug and it’s harder to fake being nonchalant when he looks at you like that. 

The train starts to slow down as it approaches your stop, and the people around you become restless as they prepare to push through the crowded car to get off. Your body reacts like muscle memory when it comes to a halt with another lurch, and you stand up without thinking about the little bit of space that separates you and the man you haven’t been able to stop thinking about all week. 

Your chest brushes against a hard set of abs before and even harder set of pecs, the cedar and sandalwood of his cologne is stronger than the last time it took over your senses like this. Fresh. The faint smell of his aftershave tickles your nose, and the heat of his breath warms against the berry chapstick on your lips. The realization of your mistake hits right as you lose your balance, and your body falls flush against his.

“Whoa, honey.” Steve chuckles, one of his big hands grabbing firmly on the soft curve of your hip to hold you in place, and you swear you can taste the spearmint of his gum against your tongue from his proximity.

Your hands reach out on instinct grabbing at his waist, making the muscles underneath flex from your touch and you can just faintly hear his sharp intake of breath because of it.

“I don’t know what I’m doing, I’m so sorry.” You bumble, instantly regretting looking up to meet his gaze. The smirk of his pink full lips has all your blood rushing to your cheeks as you quickly try to untangle yourself from him.

“You’re fine,” he laughs in your ear as you push past him, and it sends a shiver through your bones, especially when you can feel the heat of his body behind you as he follows.

The wind hits your face stepping onto the platform and the chill in the air feels good against your skin. People rush and zoom all around you as they try and make their next connection while you and Steve stand under the sign that flashes the next train times. In a loud roar, the holiday spectacle departs with jingling bells that ring off into the distance along with the whir of the crowd leaving you and Steve alone. You try to ignore the tension that bubbles under his stare against the back of your head, threatening to spill over any second as you pull out your phone.

“You live around here?” He’s the first one to break the silence stepping next to you, his gaze shifting curiously to your phone screen.

“Yeah, like three blocks away.” You answer absently, scrolling through the train lines too distracted by your search for the right directions to give him.

He hums quietly in response, pulling out his own phone from his coat pocket. His energy shifts from the panic on the train to something calmer, and you can’t quite put your finger on it. A nervousness still lingers in his shaky exhale that pushes through his nose, rocking back on his heels before shoving his phone in his pocket.

“What if we went out to dinner instead?” Steve blurts out, and his hand that’s been itching to run through his hair finally does, “I mean if you don’t have any plans right now.”

“Didn’t you say it was a work dinner Steve?” You laugh, finally daring to look up at your phone at him. Big mistake. 

The wind catches his hair, and that long dark honeyed strand falls against his forehead while his teeth gleam at you in a hopeful smile.

“I feel like I kind of already missed it,” he chuckles, “I’m supposed to be there now and if I read those directions on your phone correctly it said what? - 45 minutes to get there?”

You glance down and see the bold numbers that only seem to go up as the minutes pass and rush hour starts to kick in. 

“Besides, I owe you dinner for coming to my rescue twice in one week. I think the universe is really trying to get us to go get drinks if you ask me sweetheart.” 

You laugh a little nervous, rolling your eyes to try and hide how you aren’t immune to his charms but the glint that sparkles in his stare tells you that it’s not working.

“I mean, I guess it’s only fair. I don’t want to mess with fate and all.” You sigh, and it makes his whole face light up, “but if Richard fires you, that’s not my fault.”

“You have my word, if this dinner ruins the entire reason I moved out here. I will not blame you.” He raises his hand in the air like he’s swearing under oath.

“Steve!” You gasp, shoving his arm, and it has him throw his head back in a loud laugh that echoes through the empty platform.

“I’m kidding, that’s not going to happen. I don’t think.” He grins, earning another eye roll from you, but he’s too giddy to care.

You choose the cozy little Ramen spot on the corner called The Furious Spoon that’s only two blocks from the train station. It’s a close enough walk to easily brave the deep chill that follows with the setting sun and casual enough so that this doesn't feel like something you’re telling yourself it’s not. 

A date.

The warmth of the restaurant hits your frozen cheeks, thawing the parts of you that got bitten from the cold. Ainese hangs thick in the air, making your mouth water while the two of you make your way to the empty seats at the end of the long table that lines the side of the restaurant. You pretend not to feel his hand on the small of your back despite it burning a hole through your jacket as you push through the puffy coats that drape over the stools on either side of you.

Shrugging your layers off, both of you follow suit finding a home for them on the wide rectangular seats. Steve tuts at you when you go to pull your seat out waving your hand away.

“Seriously? No.” You half whisper yell, but the corners of your lips twist up and he decides it’s an empty objection pulling your seat out for you with a wave of his hand gesturing you to sit.

“My mom would kill me if I didn’t,” he swears but his smirk tells you not to believe a word he says as he puts both his hands on either side of your stool, spearmint hot on his breath against the shell of your ear. Cedar and clove on the fabrics of his clothes, it feels like he’s everywhere as he gives you two pushes in.

His knee bumps into yours as he takes the seat next to you, and another waft of his cologne hits your nose. Biting your lip, you decide to distract yourself with the menu as you actively try to make sure your leg doesn’t bounce with anxious energy. The restaurant is more crowded than you expected and Steve’s closer than you wanted. Your heart thumps wildly against your rib cage, scaring the butterflies that laid dormant for the few days in his absence right as they had started to stretch their wings. 

“This all looks so good,” he hums, eyes scanning over the menu before bringing his attention back to you, chestnut and gold shimmering in the low light as he looks down the slope of his nose, licking his full lips, “Do you have a favorite?”

You can’t stop your gaze from flicking down to his mouth, words threatening to get caught on the tip of your tongue watching the way the corners curl up into a grin, small dimples pushing into his tan skin when he catches you.

“Depends on what you like protein wise, but my go to is The Mother Clucker.” You manage to get out, trying to clear out the nerves out of your throat.

“Excuse me,” he snorts, “the what?”

Rolling your eyes, you tuck your bottom lip between your teeth as you lean over tapping a red polished nail to the chicken option on the top.

“Do you need glasses Steve?” You giggle watching him squint to read it.

The question makes him look at you out of the corner of his eyes with a narrow stare. 

“I’ve had perfect vision since high school. Thank you very much.” He scoffs holding the menu further away as if to help him focus on the small bold lettering. 

“Sure looks like it, my mistake.” Raising a hand in mock surrender, the gesture makes him knock his knee with yours earning him a giggle.

“Here I am skipping out on an important work dinner to spend my night showing you how grateful I am and you’re just bullying me.” Steve only manages to keep a straight face until you hit him with a soft smack on his shoulder, a full bellied laugh escaping him when whatever retort you’re ready to give gets cut off by your server finally coming to the table.

Steve’s charm flows from him with ease as he speaks to the young guy with a big septum ring and spiked hair. He talks to him like they’ve been lifelong friends when you place your orders and it reminds you how easily he got that same genuine smile from you just a few days ago at work, and again now as you sit next to him for dinner instead of writing him off like you told yourself you would. Your stomach twists in knots when his knee bumps against yours and stays there, the warmth of his body seeping through the fabric of his slacks and your jeans.

“So did you end up finding your Mom a gift that screams ‘I didn’t make a mistake’?” You question resting your cheek in the palm of your hand as you lean on the table with your elbow, you lift your chin up a little at him and it makes him flush.

“Oh yeah,” he laughs nervously, scratching the back of his neck, “I-I didn’t actually, so that's great. I’ll probably just get her a nice set of earrings or something, it won’t matter in the end anyways.”

His eyebrows knit together and for the first time all night he purposely avoids your gaze with a sip of his water. Your eyes follow the movements of his throat as he swallows.

“What do you mean it won’t matter?” You press, curiosity getting the best of you watching his confidence slip.

“My parents aren’t exactly thrilled that I moved out here to help with this start up, instead of taking over their family business back home. It’s a long story, but it was a big argument, well - multiple big arguments when I told them I was leaving.” He sighs, and you can see the dread of their arrival start to hang over his head like storm clouds. “Besides we never really spent Christmas together my whole life anyway, they were always traveling for work, so this whole thing is just -“ He rubs at his temple, “a thing.”

He runs his fingers through his hair without abandon this time.

“Ahhh,” you hum as missing pieces of Steve’s puzzle are revealed and you hate yourself for finding him more attractive because of it. 

“What about you?” He nods his head in your direction, mimicking your stance resting his head in his hand, “What are you doing for Christmas?”

“Well,” you start, more nerves settling deep in your chest as you start to lay some of your cards down, “I don’t go home for the holidays cause I usually have work. But me and my family get along fine, I guess. But my roommate usually goes to visit his uncle so I’ll probably order something really expensive to eat and watch a Christmas movie I don’t hate.” 

You shrug trying to hide that sometimes it does get to you, not having a full house of loud laughter or even someone to spend the day with, but the look in Steve’s eyes makes you feel like he sees you. He gets it.

“Favorite Christmas movie?” He asks without missing a beat.

“Oh, easy, The Grinch.” you snort.

“Fitting for you.” he winks, despite the tips of his ears turning red when your shoe finds his under the table.

“Rude. What about you? huh?” Your lashes flutter as you bite your lip feeling him start to play footsie with you. 

“Jingle All The Way, Arnold’s my guy.” He smiles big at the giggle you give him, and it warms your face just like his hand that slides further down his thigh, dangerously close to yours.

The bubble you find yourselves in pops abruptly when the smell of your soup hits your nose. Two large bowls get set down in front of you, steam pouring off the tops so much it fogs the glass window.

“You would like Arnold,” you manage to whisper yell over your servers arm and it’s Steve’s turn to roll his eyes, ignoring you giving the waiter a pat on the back with a ‘thanks man.’

The rest of your dinner is filled with easy conversion and touches that linger more than they should, just like the secret paths heavy lidded gazes make to each other’s lips that aren’t so secret in the dim lighting with your feet still intertwined. You hate that as you learn more about him, the more you want to know. The questions come with follow up questions as he tells you about the life that he left behind, his best friend Robin who he hasn’t spent more than six hours without for the last five years and how it feels like he’s missing a limb. 

It feels mutual as both of you sit there long after your bowls are empty, snow falling from a now completely dark sky as Steve listens to you tell a story from high school like it’s the most interesting thing he’s ever heard. Just like the stories about you and Eddie before that, or the one about how you lost your I.D on a crazy night out. All of them felt like he was hanging on every word, and having his full attention like this made your stomach flip. The buzzing of your phone is what ends the night when your eyes catch how late it really is.

“Oh my god, is it really almost nine?” You gasp, but Steve seems unfazed, just like the tip of his shoe running up your calf.

“I’m actually surprised they didn’t kick us out,” he smirks, chuckling to himself before straightening his back. Deep crimson filling his cheeks when you both can hear the loud pop.

You’d tease him but you were too busy already missing his touch. God. Dammit.

“I should really get going, I didn’t realize we’ve been here for like three hours. I gotta be at work super early for this breakfast with Santa we’re doing,”  You huff, standing up and the change in energy is almost enough to make Steve’s head spin.

“You live like a block away, I think you’ll get home fairly quickly.” He looks at you confused as he stands up, watching you stuff your arms in your coat with a struggle with tangled sleeves.

“I just, I promised Eddie I’d be home at a certain time and he gets all worried when I’m not,” It’s a lie but you aren’t going to tell him that your panic is from the fear that spending this much time with him has now pushed you past the point of no return. 

He’s never going to leave your mind now.

“Let me walk you,” He insists, slipping on his coat with ease, broad shoulders filling it perfectly.

“I think you should worry about getting yourself home,” you tease, buttoning your coat that you won the fight with.

“Yeah, I can’t chance it, not without my good luck charm,” he winks and your knees wobble, “I’m calling an Uber. Can’t get lost that way.” 

“Let’s hope so,” you smirk, bumping shoulders with him despite yourself as you walk past.

“Hey! I thought we were friends now.” He whines following close behind, both of you giving a small wave to your server on the way out.

The cold air hits you the moment the swinging glass door opens, sending a shiver up your spine, tugging your coat closer, you silently curse the hint of cedar you catch on the fabric.

“Are we friends now?” You arch a brown turning on your heel to face him as you both hit the sidewalk.

“I was hoping,” he gives you that smile, the kind that you know always gets him what he wants, and god do you want to give it to him. But the gold shimmering on his belt and the reminder that he just moved here makes you stubborn and weary. “Maybe if you give me your number, we can do this again sometime and find out?”

“How about this,” you suck at the inside of your cheek loudly, and you almost feel bad when you see how his face drops, “If we run into each other again, you can have my number.”

Steve stares at you for a second, disbelief painting over all of his pretty features, but he’s quick to recover with a hand through his hair and a new poker face.

“Deal.” He sticks his hand out and now it’s you who has to take a minute to recover, “What? I accept.”

You narrow your eyes at him before you place your palm into his, that charming smile outshining the white snow that falls onto his long lashes. He purposely holds it longer than he should, the butterflies in your stomach coming to life when the warm pad of his thumb starts to rub small circles into your soft skin. 

“Till the next time beautiful, who knows, maybe I won’t take an Uber home. Take a gamble. I wonder who could possibly show up to rescue me.” He starts, earning another shoulder slap and a gasped ‘Steve!’

“Do not do that, Uber home you maniac.” You pull your hand away no matter how much you don’t want to, especially when he trails the tips of his fingers down your palm as he lets go.

“You win this time,” He grins pulling out his phone, and you watch him click the app before you start to walk towards the direction of home.

“I win every time, Steve.” You wink, taking a mental picture of the way it makes him bite his lip before you turn away hoping you didn’t just make some huge mistake.

Secretly hoping Steve Harrington gets lost again.

[simpforboys]

the gift of eywa

neteyam sully x fem!omatikaya!reader

summary: kiri gives you the best birthday gift

warnings: ATWOW SPOILERS!! flashbacks, mentions of nightmares/death/blood/gunshots, some angst, fluffy end, kiri is powerful af, depression

you and neteyam are 18-19.

this is based on a theory (or rather hope) that kiri is going to bring back neteyam for the 3rd movie and i need it to happen.

the dreams constantly got worse.

endless nights of tossing and turning, the horrible memory of what happened that night.

the night you lost your mate.

immense panic washed over you as jake helped you, lo’ak, and spider bring neteyam’s wounded body onto the rock-covered island.

“watch his head!” you shouted.

tears filled your eyes as you rested his head gently in your lap, his fading eyes looking up at you.

jake lifted his son to see the bullet went cleanly through the lung. you saw the way his face fell and knew eywa was coming to meet your mate.

“no… no! my neteyam, look into my eyes.” you stroked the boy’s hair in the way he absolutely loved.

his eyelids were fluttering as his chest went from rising and falling rapidly to almost a complete stop.

“until we meet again, my y/n…”

the constant pain of knowing your mate died in your arms was horrible.

that night happened two months ago. for two months you’ve received pitting looks from your people.

the most you’ve slept is probably twenty six hours throughout the sixty days, even though they started to blend together now.

you cannot remember the last time you smiled. genuinely smiled.

the remembrance of neteyam lived within the clan, as his energy went back to eywa with his funeral.

meeting neteyam when you were 15, the two of you immediately clicked. everyone in the clan knew you were going to be mates.

the day of your 18th birthday was when tsaheylu occurred. the night you officially became neteyam’s, and neteyam officially became your’s.

“are you sure?” neteyam looked over your glistening face, the white dots glowing perfectly under the tree of souls.

“positive.” you gave your soon-to-be mate a smile, grabbing your braid.

neteyam grabbed his, connecting your queue to his. the feeling was powerful, unlike anything you could imagine.

two souls had finally become one.

being mates of course came with the closeness of family. the sullys grew very fond of you, neytiri saw herself in you.

besides neteyam, you grew close to kiri. she became your good friend, someone you could go to when neteyam was being a skxawng.

and kiri noticed the way your face lost some of its color. you became numb, dull, and heartless.

it was very rare for mates to pass so young. and unfortunately, eywa has passed that fate upon you.

it made you bitter. people would bring you care baskets and you would shame yourself for getting pity.

but deep down, you knew neteyam would not want you to be sulking. he was such a bright soul, he would want you to live for him.

live. living; alive. it felt wrong to do without neteyam. the last time you felt alive was when you rode on neteyam’s ikran over the sea to the metkayina village.

the travel was rough, through storms and late nights. but neteyam made it special, he would let his ikran fly and would focus on you.

sometimes it felt as if his hands were still on you, holding you the way he used to.

you had become a little thinner from the lack of food you were ingesting. it was hard to do anything nowadays.

your ilu missed riding with you and would often swim up to the marui pod to check on you.

and kiri had enough.

her deep connection with eywa made kiri begin to research, to ask ronal questions.

and one day, kiri snuck out of the pod and went down to the spirit tree. she connected her queue and instantly, eywa heard her.

eywa had heard kiri’s prayers, neytiri’s sobs, and your broken heart.

the great mother had given one more chance.

kiri snapped her eyes open, seeing neteyam’s body in the center of the tree. she swam over, gently shaking her brother.

her heart almost stopped when neteyam’s eyes met hers.

➽─────────────────❥

your nineteenth birthday had finally arrived. the first birthday in years you would spend without neteyam.

the sullys had given you gifts, to which you sadly thanked them. tuk had crafted you special little piece, a heart with you and her oldest brother.

it brought you to immediate tears, to which neytiri just held you as you cried in her arms.

“i miss him.” you sobbed into her chest.

neytiri had quickly grown into the motherly figure in your life ever since you left the high camp.

“i know…” neytiri softly cried, petting the top of your head in a soothing way.

she gently sung a soft tune into your pointed ear. your rapid heartbeat began to soften.

unbeknownst to you, kiri was leading neteyam back to awa’atlu. the great mother had brought her brother back, and knew this would be the best birthday gift she could give.

the metkayinas erupted into shouting as they noticed the boy who once died, now alive and smiling.

he wanted to see you.

neytiri’s ears perked up from the shouting. jake peeked his head out of the pod, seeing his once deceased son riding on the back of an ilu.

“what the hell-“ jake quickly ran out of the pod.

curious, tuk followed.

“tuk!” neytiri called after the youngest, getting up from her position.

lo’ak came running into the pod, grabbing you from your slumped position.

“what do you want?” you groaned.

“you have to see this, y/n!”

you stood up, peeking out of the pod to see the metkayinas surrounding what appeared to be kiri.

you narrowed your eyes, carefully approaching the crowd. neytiri’s sobs were heard from hundreds of feet away. the omatikayas were hugging something, kiri’s smile wide.

as you got closer, it seemed as if all eyes were on you. when you finally focused your gaze on what everyone was crowded around, you met bright yellow eyes.

his bright yellow eyes.

“neteyam…” you gasped.

“my y/n.” your mate smiled at you, his tail high in excitement.

you approaching the boy you grew to love in a slow and cautious manner.

“h-how?” you stuttered, reaching your hands out to hold his face in your hands.

warm, soft, and blushing just like they always were when you touched him.

“the great mother has given me a second chance, thanks to kiri.”

you looked at kiri, a tear in her eye as she grinned at you. “happy birthday.”

the amount of tears that flowed out of you in that moment almost seemed impossible. you jumped onto your mate, crying in his arms.

the metkayinas cheered from eywa’s gift.

“happy birthday, my y/n.” neteyam whispered into your ear.

you began to fall to your knees in the sand, neteyam holding you tightly against him. “mawey, y/n. mawey. i am here.”

eywa had finally heard your prayers. and now that you finally had your mate in your arms, you were never going to let him go.

[skyllion-uwu]

@dyggot

[cautionworks]

Baby, Let's Make Another One

A sequel to "Baby, I'm yours".

Pairing: Na'vi! Miles Quaritch x Human! Female! Reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: Fluff and Smut with a dash of Angst, Post- Pregnancy, Age gap, daddy kink, breeding kink, Na'vi/Human sex, alien sex, vaginal fingering, and Linking Na'vi Queue with Human. Yes, you read that correctly because I'm a pervert and I like to find creative ways to write smut.

A/n: I wrote this because one I wanted to write more Na'vi Quaritch x Human Reader stories and two you would not believe the amount of people requesting that I write more or make a sequel.

Dog tags: An army necklace that's worn to be identified in case of death and is similarly shaped like a dog tag.

Nga yawne lu oer: "I love you."

Nga yawne lu oer nìteng: "I love you too."

@marahisthebest @sofysofiasofi @kassada @automaticwizardnerd @fourcefulcupid @anbanananna Enjoy!

Positive. You were positive on your third pregnancy test. You didn't know if it was possible but you were in fact pregnant with Quaritch's child. That could only be the case, he’s the only person you’ve been with for the past year. 

Tears of joy brimmed in your eyes when the realization of a child was growing inside you and the fact it was his. You had to tell him, you wanted to tell him right now, but he was at work right now. So you waited until Miles came home, which was late in the evening. For this special occasion, you decided to make his favorite meal for dinner, Gumbo. A meal that takes him back to his hometown.

By the time you finished making dinner, you heard the door open to hear familiar footsteps.

"I'm home." Hearing his southern drawl of a voice again made you jump in excitement. You set the plates down and came to him with open arms. He immediately crouched down to hug you, his tail swinging back and forth.

Within a few seconds the aroma of spices and fresh meat filled his nose. "Is that Gumbo I'm smelling?"

You nodded your head. "Uh, huh."

He titled his head as his ears moved down. "Aw, thank you, baby." He kissed your forehead. "How ya doin’?"

"Good." You smiled but you couldn't hide the excitement bursting inside you. You smiled in a way that lets him know you're happy about something else but he didn't know what. Whatever it is, he was glad to come home and see you bright and happy.

"What's going on?" He smiled softly. "Did something happen?"

You didn't want to delay it any further so you just blurted out. 

"..I'm pregnant." You looked at him carefully to see his reaction.

His eyes widened and ears perked up the moment you said 'pregnant'. He stood there frozen, his face deep in thought. He thinks back to the last time he saw Spider, after the battle of the sea dragon. He remembers when he was standing by his Irkan, injured, and reaching his hand out to Spider, hoping that he’ll come back with him to base. But instead Spider gave him a vicious hiss as his goodbye and jumped in the water and swam away. Quaritch was too injured to try and get him back and so he flew back to base on his Ikran. 

It was at this moment that Miles knew that he can’t and will never have the father-son relationship he wanted. No matter how hard his memories demanded him to be with Spider, his attempts of reconnecting with his son failed.

And now here he was, at home with you and you telling him you were pregnant with his child. Could this be his chance of having a family again? Could he recreate what was broken? Were you willing to make a life with him?

"..Is this true, baby?" He said in a hoarse tone, like he couldn't believe what he just heard.

You nodded eagerly. "Yes!"

In less of a second, he lifted you up and wrapped his tail around your thigh, careful to not squeeze you. He was the happiest man alive on this planet.

"..Oh, darlin’, thank you." He smiled fondly at you and kissed you as he spoke words of endearment. 

"..Thank you." 

One year has passed since the birth of your son, Jason. He was born healthy and appeared as a full human baby. No tail or blue skin but he did have his father’s eyes, which was the only unusual thing about him but you didn’t care, you loved him all the same. As long as he was healthy and functioning well, that’s all it mattered to you. You couldn’t say the same for Miles in the beginning. 

When Jason was born, Miles was overjoyed but when the baby opened his eyes, his eyes held the same color as his father. Golden orbs with cat-like pupils. They were Na'vi eyes and it did not sit well with Miles. Quaritch being surprised was an understatement. He wasn’t happy, he was displeased. He honestly thought that his human characteristics would be enough to pass his children as fully human. But who was he kidding, he's a 9,5ft blue alien. It’s a miracle (to him) that his child looked mostly human. 

You remembered the look he made when he saw his child open his eyes for the first time. He looked like he saw something that was wrong with your baby and it worried you. "What's wrong?" You asked him.

"He's got..” He hesitated but his memories of his past life got the better of him. “He's got those hostile eyes." He frowned.

You your lips pursed. "...Hostile?!" You whispered yelled to not scare the baby. "How could you say that about our son?" You wish you could get out of the bed and smack him but your body was still too exhausted from the labor. "You better think about your next words carefully, Quaritch."

That name. You rarely ever use that name and when you did it struck through Miles and it made him think.

Was he really upset about it? Could it be his memories of hating the Na’vi transcend onto his own son? He felt disgusted with himself with this notion. From that moment, he had a change of heart, and promised to love the child you've created with him.

He says nothing and you took that silence to heart, making the floodgates open. You started crying and this time it wasn't out of the pain you endured to bring your son into this world or the moment you saw your son for the first time, it was because the love of your life, your partner, your husband, didn't accept the baby you've made. And It hurt you.

Miles saw the hurt in your eyes and immediately regretted what he said. He carefully put Jason down on the hospital crib and approached you slowly.

“..Baby, I’m sorry.” You could hear the guilt in his voice and it made you cry even harder. He wrapped his arms around you without crushing you as best as he could. He felt such a dick at the moment. 

He took your hands gently into his, rubbing the knuckles of your hands with his thumb. “I was being an asshole and I shouldn’t have said all that bullshit.”

You nodded as you wiped off the tears on your face.“..Okay.”

When he was close enough to your face, you took that opportunity to grab his ears and yank them down hard. You could’ve grabbed his queue but you didn’t want him to hurt that badly so you settled with his ears.

“..Shit-” He winced, fighting the urge to pull you off because he knows he deserves it. “Ow, ow, ow! Okay, I get it, damn it!”

“Serves you right.”

It was the beginning of January, the year was 2173. You were at home in your room, holding your son in your arms. He was fast asleep when you put him back on the crib, watching him sleep peacefully. You hear small footsteps come behind you and you turned around to see Quaritch duck his head under the door.

He pouts as he touches the back of his ears. 

 He puts his hand on your shoulder.  "Is he asleep?" He whispered quietly. 

"Yeah," You whispered back. "He sleeps so easily." 

He chuckled. "Just like his old man."

You chuckled as well when the both of you left the room, closing the door quietly.

Unexpectedly, Miles lifted you up and carried you to the living room, you didn't even gasp. He's done this enough times for you to get used to it. He just likes picking you up since you're so small in size.

He sits on the couch with you on top of him, all nice and snuggled. It may be the beginning of the new year, but it was still a bit cold and Miles was a natural furnace as always.

You take the remote control and flip through channels until you settle on channel 13, a random animal documentary displaying on the TV screen. You did not expect to see a pair of lions seemingly horny and about to mate but you were curious enough to not switch the channel immediately.

“Lionesses are receptive to mating for three or four days within their reproductive cycle. During this time a male will mate every 20–30 minutes and can mate up to 50 times a day."  The camera zooms in on a female lion lying down with a male behind her, positioning himself to mate with her. You see Miles' tail moves in excitement as the two of you watch the two animals begin mating with each other.

"It is known that mating sessions last less than a minute so the male can copulate many times a day."

It's only been a minute since you sat down and watched some TV and already you feel him touch your thighs, letting you know exactly what he's thinking about. You can't help but lean back into his chest to hear him whisper into your ear, smiling against you. 

"..Baby, let's make another one," His hands go under your shirt and shorts." I promise I'll last longer than a lion." He grinned at you and you couldn't help but chuckle. “What'd ya say, sweetcakes?" He kisses your ear, biting it gently with his fang. 

The way he said that sends waves of arousal to your already wet pussy. Welp, there goes your cervix again.

"That depends." You whispered back. "Are you sure you want me to have a big belly and bigger tits again?"

You know by now that he would say yes but you want him to say it anyway. 

He wrapped his tail around your thigh to keep you from going anywhere and without hesitation he said. "Anyday."

"Then come give it to me big daddy." You smirked in anticipation.

You didn't have to say it twice. His hands slip under your shorts and panties, his fingers graze against your lips, wetness coating them instantly. You heard him groan in delight behind you.

"Damn, yer so wet, sweetheart.You really want another one, don'cha?" He dips his large digits inside you, making you curl your toes and cry out in pleasure.

"..Fuck." You whimpered. "..Y-yes." 

You hear an amused hum, a low vibration that comes from his throat and spreads to you. He slides his other hand under your shirt. You weren’t wearing a bra so he grabbed your breasts and massaged them with ease as he curled his fingers inside you. It is true that his hands are large to hold your breasts but that doesn't stop him from fondling it.

 He whispered to you as if you two weren’t alone. "Feels good doesn't it, baby?" He said with a mix of love and lust tinting his voice. It didn’t take long for his fingers to reach your G-spot, making your legs tremble in indescribable pleasure. You moan and squirm but Quaritch is strong enough to hold you down without delaying the pleasure you’re feeling. Once he's gathered enough wetness, he starts rubbing your clit in circular motions.

The pleasure was beginning to become too much that you couldn’t control the volume of your voice. "..Yes, please, please don't stop! Don't-"

"Sh-ssh," He hushed you, pausing his movements to slow you down. "You don't wanna wake the baby, do ya?"

Of course not. It was one of your big hurdles that you and Miles learned to fuck more quietly snice you were a vocal woman and the fact Quaritch reached your cervix every time you guys made love.

He returns back to fingering you and this time you tried to moan quietly as best you could. "Here we go," He cooed softly. "That’s my good girl."

“..Fuck, I’m cumming.” You cried as your hips wiggled.

“Yes, yes, that’s right, babygirl. Keep goin’, cum into my hands.”

And as if on command you came on his fingers. Hot spurts of cum drenched into his hands and you're still shaking from the unstoppable fingering he's doing to you. And as you continue cumming, he praises you, switching between 'good girl' and 'that's my good girl', as if you can't get more aroused. He releases his tail around your thigh.

When your high fell down, you sat up and turned around to face him. “..Let me ride you,” You whispered to him breathlessly.

He takes off his tank top but leaves his dog tag on. “M’kay, baby. Whatever you say.”

“With your queue.”

His brows rose in surprise. “What?”

“I want to try putting your queue, erm, inside me or just rubbing it against it.”

“..Sweetheart,” He sighed. “Y’know this is a Na’vi thing,  I dunno if it’ll work the same way with humans, let alone be harmless to ya.”

“..I know but I trust you. I won’t ask again if you say you don’t want to.”

“Fine, we can try it but I’ll be the one who puts it on.”

You smiled at him. “Yes, daddy.” You spread your legs and used your fingers to spread your wet pussy lips, hoping to entice him.

"Who knew you're such a dirty li'l girl." He grabs the end of his braid and holds his queue out, the pink tendrils moving upwards in a continuous motion. You watched him carefully move his queue closer to your wet folds, making you anxious at the sight of it reaching closer to your privates. 

As it gets closer, the tips of it touch your outer lips, it does nothing but keep moving as it did before. He brings it up to your clit and this time your body shudders in pleasure at the contact of it. “A-ah!” You moaned. “..M-miles, fuck.”

His ears perked at the tingle he just felt. “You feelin’ good, baby?”

“Yes,” You breathed. “..Put it deeper into me.”

He gave you a silent nod as he brought the tip down to your wet entrance. Within seconds, the soft tendrils latched into your inner walls, instantly making you feel its pulse. The both of you breathe deeply in unison, the sensation of feeling each other’s body for the first time overwhelms you both. You didn’t think it was possible at all but it was. You didn’t need to be an avatar or recom to experience this intimate moment, the ability to feel someone else’s body.

“Oh, my god, Miles...” You close your eyes as you take in this otherworldly sensation.

“Holy shit,” He chuckled in amazement. “Baby, are you feelin' this?”

You nodded. “..Yes, I can feel you.” You touch his large hands as you smile, a brief look of content painted on your face. “I can feel your breathing, your pulse.” A perverted smile surfaced on your face as you felt something more intense and erotic. “And how incredibly hard you are right now.”

“Me too, cupcake.” He chuckled. “I can literally feel yer pussy throbbin’ right now.” He now senses your body's need to be filled.

“You still wanna ride on my dick, huh?” He lays down on his back as his queue stays attached to you. “God, yes.”  You crawl over to him and lift yourself as you take his length into your hands and align it carefully to your entrance, lowering yourself slowly.

With how slick and horny you are, his cock slipped inside you easily and did not interfere with the connection between you and his queue. 

“..Christ,” He groaned and it was unlike anything you heard of him. “Ho, baby girl.” He can't believe what he was experiencing at the moment. He can feel himself stretching you and how good it feels to you. 

It was a spiritual and intimate experience the two of you were sharing together and all the while you looked so sexy while you’re on top. 

“Fuckin’ gorgeous.” He muttered to himself. 

The tip of it kisses your cervix and you cry out. “Ah, r-right there, Miles.” He grins at the sight of your expression, with the addition of him feeling you stretched to the hilt. "Look at you, desperate to take my cock again. You want to take my cum again, huh, princess?"

You start to bounce, lifting your hips up and down as your tits move in the same motion. "Yes, yes, daddy!" 

"Mnn, and be bred again?"

"F-fuck, yes, please. Cum in me," You cried. "Gimme your cum, please!"

"Mnn, you just always know what to say, babygirl. You take me so well, always so snug around me. It's like you were made to be bred by me."

The praises and dirty words made you shiver in arousal. You bent your body over as you buried your head to his chest, his hands gripped your ass while the other was planted firmly on your small back. Miles groaned as he lifted his hips and thrusted deep inside you, his movements making you cling to him tightly. 

"Mmm, yes, baby, just like that. Keep it comin’, mama. Daddy’s gonna fill you up nice and good. Soon you're gonna be so full of cum and when you get pregnant, I'll just keep cummin’ inside ya every night."

And before you were about to say something, Miles felt through his queue you were about to cum soon.

"..Fuck, I'm gonna cum, daddy." You cried to his chest, holding on to it as best as you could while your pussy was getting wrecked. The TV remained on but the sounds of groaning and whimpers and the lewd sounds of skin against skin were louder.

"Come on, babygirl, cum for me." You hear him growl, that's when you know his instincts are kicking in. "Cum for daddy." He smacked your ass.

"A-ah, AH, Miles, please!"  You chanted his name like he was your savior, switching between ‘daddy’ and ‘Miles’ until you lost the ability to speak. 

“That’s right. Cum.” He pounds below you hard as you whimper. “Cum on daddy’s dick..” 

And before he said anything else, you felt his cock throb through the queue, hinting he was about to explode and the sensation itself made you want to release yourself.

"Shit, baby, I'm cummin’-" He grunts as his thrusts become brutal. "Daddy’s comin’,M fuck-"

For the first time in months, you came at the same time together. The two of you shudder in heavenly bliss, your pussy clamps around him so tightly as hot cum rushed inside you. You’ve never cried so loudly and you’ve never cummed this much, maybe it had to do with the queue. 

He gives out a few last thrusts before he stops and stays inside you. The both of you are out of breath, hugging each other as you let the afterglow of sex take over you too.

When your high faded, you sat up and took his softened dick out of you, a thread of cum spilling out of you. 

..You’re so getting pregnant after this. You thought to yourself.

You looked down to see the queue still attached to you. A grin surfaced on your face as an idea popped into your mind.

"Hey, Miles." You grabbed the tuft of hair on his queue and flatten it onto the front of your vulva. "..Look at my hairy pussy." You smirked as you looked at him funny.

His ear drooped down and his lips curled into a smug smirk and before you know it he bursted into laughter. You know he's always had a dirty sense of humor and it was one of the reasons why you two connected with each other, with queue or not.

"Nga yawne lu oer." He says to you in Na'vi.

You’re not fluent in Na’vi but you know enough to understand what he said to you, so you said, “Nga yawne lu oer nìteng.” with a smile.

[eastons-creations]

My ultimate fic recs

Made a poll and a lot of people said they would want this sooo here we are! These are the best fics I’ve read (: The og post

Top 3

1- To Be Alone With You By Shay_Fae

In the summer of their sixth year, Remus Lupin tried to kill himself.

2- Something Just Like This By shadow_prince

a fake dating modern AU where Sirius has been telling Mrs. Potter he's dating someone for 9 months and she demands his "boyfriend" comes on their family vacation. Queue: shenanigans between wolfstar and jily as they lie their asses off.

3- Text Talk By merlywhirls

Sirius is in boarding school, Remus is in hospital, and they don't know each other until Sirius texts the wrong number.

Other recs bellow break (in no order)

Wading in waist high water By colgatebluemintygel

Remus is a PhD student and hobbyist baker who finds himself adrift following his father’s death. On a whim, he enters the Great British Bake Off and is swept up in a flurry of curdled custard, shrunken souffle, and under-proved dough. Remus expects to be challenged and to embarrass himself on public television. What he doesn’t account for are the friendships he develops with the other contestants and the deep connection he forms with his teenage crush, Sirius Black: charming ex-boy band member and Bake Off host

Beneath a big blue sky by @eyra

The four-by-four heaves its way down long, twisting lanes, little more than dirt tracks scuffed into the surrounding fields and hemmed in by serpentine walls of flat, grey stone. They truly are in the middle of nowhere: the countryside rushes past, all rolling green hills and vast, endless skies, and it's odious. Sirius wants to murder James with his bare hands. Sirius and James accidentally find themselves on a Yorkshire farm during lambing season. The farmer’s son thinks that’s a bit annoying, actually.

A brief history of dragons by @eyra

It's lovely up here; all meadows dotted with wildflowers, wind-beaten tracks criss-crossing this way and that through the fields, weaving inland to the pinewoods. The sun's hot on his back as he passes ramshackle stone walls, long since crumbled to piles of ancient rubble and scree, and then the path winds downwards, still following the line of the coast until Sirius finds himself outside an old white cottage, tucked away behind the hill with a rose garden that faces out to the sea. Sirius moves to Cornwall for the summer and meets a rude, beautiful boy who is writing a book that may or may not be about dragons

Let’s play pretend by MsAlexWP

After James and Lily died, Sirius Black's therapist told him not to date for a year. And that's just as well. He's got a 13-month-old baby now and quite enough to deal with, thanks. But the nosy neighbors in his building keep trying to set him up and won't take no for an answer. Enter Remus Lupin, another single dad who pretends to be Sirius's boyfriend, just to get the old lady brigade off his back and nothing more. Nothing more at all.

Forever in a state of mind by orphan_account

Deaf Dance Choreographer, Remus Lupin, has a simple life. Working, taking care of his son, and running his YouTube sign channel. When he unwittingly becomes involved with Deaf Pride Activist, Fleamont Potter, he doesn't realise how much his life will change. Especially after he meets YouTube star and makeup artist, Sirius Black.

Sugar rush by Stricklymarauders

James, Sirius, Peter, and Dorcas have been best friends for years and are starting their senior year of highschool. To Sirius' dismay he doesn't have any friends in his history class, but after eventually showing up, he finds he sits next to a tall curly hair boy who takes his breath away, Remus Lupin. He decided right then and there that he must make this boy fall in love with him and recruits James to be his wingman, until James is distracted by Remus' best friend with a personality as fiery has her hair, Lily Evans.

Dating Remus lupin by Children_of_the_Shadow

Remus Lupin is a mystery to the whole school; the boy who's quiet, aloof, and cold. He also happens to be queer, which is enough to gain Sirius's interest. What Sirius never realised that dating Remus Lupin wasn't quite as easy as it looked.

Blends by rvltn909

Words got in the way sometimes, but Remus got the sense Sirius knew what he was trying to say. Another coffee shop au.

Camp Casanova by Farquad

All lonely 11 years old Remus Lupin wants is a friend. But when he arrives at Slughorn's summer camp for teenage boys his world turns upside down since he finds himself sharing a cabin with three other boys; James Potter, Peter Pettigrew and Sirius Black. As the years pass by Remus finds himself birthing friendships, fighting bullies, but above all battling his own feelings which soon gets out of control. He struggles to keep his biggest secret, and he wonders how he could've fallen so deeply in love.

Turn on my charm by Bethanlovescoffee

Sirius Black is a YouTube phenomenon. A YouTube phenomenon who develops a crush on his video editor.

[quatregats]

I'm rereading Master and Commander and I'm deeply in danger of just posting every single passage from it ever but I did love the way that the capture of the prize in Chapter 6 was framed on either side by the logbook's entry, and also the way he transitions out of it to set the scene and tone:

Sunday, July 1 … Mustered the ship’s company by divisions read the Articles of War performed Divine Service and committed the body of Henry Gouges to the deep. At noon dº weather. Ditto weather: but the sun sank towards a livid, purple, tumescent cloud-bank piled deep on the western horizon, and it was clear to every seaman aboard that it was not going to remain ditto much longer. The seamen, sprawling abroad on the fo’c’sle and combing out their long hair or plaiting it up again for one another, kindly explained to the landmen that this long swell from the south and east, this strange sticky heat that came both from the sky and the glassy surface of the heaving sea, and this horribly threatening appearance of the sun, meant that there was to be a coming dissolution of all natural bonds, an apocalyptic upheaval, a right dirty night ahead. The sailormen had plenty of time to depress their hearers, already low in their spirits because of the unnatural death of Henry Gouges (had said, ‘Ha, ha, mates, I am fifty years old this day. Oh dear,’ and had died sitting there, still holding his untasted grog) – they had plenty of time, for this was Sunday afternoon, when in the course of nature the fo’c’sle was covered with sailors at their ease, their pigtails undone. Some of the more gifted had queues they could tuck into their belts; and now that these ornaments were loosened and combed out, lank when still wet, or bushy when dry and as yet ungreased, they gave their owners a strangely awful and foreboding look, like oracles; which added to the landmen’s uneasiness.

[...]

Jack leant back against the curved run of the stern-window and let Killick’s version of coffee down by gulps into his grateful stomach; and at the same time that its warmth spread through him, so there ran a lively tide of settled, pure, unfevered happiness – a happiness that another commander (remembering his own first prize) might have discerned from the log-entry, although it was not specifically mentioned there: 1/2 past 10 tacked, 11 in courses, reefed topsail. AM cloudy and rain. 1/2 past 4 chase observed E by S, distance 1/2 mile. Bore up and took possession of dº, which proved to be L’Aimable Louise, French polacre laden with corn and general merchandise for Cette, of about 200 tons, 6 guns and 19 men. Sent her with an officer and eight men to Mahon.

[skyllion-uwu]

@nibwhipdragon

Every time someone says “dragon” in How to Train Your Dragon

[hashimasims]

TW: Birthing complications → Continue at your own risk

Beginning|Previous|Next

Absalom: When are you going to let us in Wolf? I should be in there with her!

Kristopher: I can't. I'm sorry. The Sixians are doing everything they can just to keep her under without actual sedation to protect her and the babies. And themselves. She attacked the surgeons before they could take control of her mind, one of them had their shoulder impaled by her horns. We don't need to add more strain on them with your emotions.

Kanaloa *looking through the window*: It doesn't seem like she's still in her Mer form.

Kristopher: One of the surgeons was able to force her into her human form once they were inside her mind, lessening the danger she posed to them or herself if she were to slip their control before they were done with the surgery to bring her children into the world. It's a lot easier to hold down a pair of human legs than it is a Mer's tail. Now, the first set of Twins are safely out. They were Breech, if not she would have given birth just fine naturally.

Absalom: First set? How is that possible?

Kristopher: Yes. Elucea has two uteri, medically called uterus didelphys. Both uteri held a set of twins. Did you not notice she had two openings?

Absalom: Of course I noticed! Kanaloa: Of course I noticed!

Absalom: I assumed it had something to do with her being more shark than mammal

Kanaloa: And I have two dicks so just made sense. Thought hers connected to one womb as normal for us.

Absalom: *looking at Kana incredulously* TWO?! How the WOOHOCK do I compete with that?!

Kanaloa: Deep sea mermaid, same as El *flashing his shark teeth* think Megalodon. *shrugs* But she kept going back to you so you must be doing something right

Watcher's Notes: Edit on 10/11/2024 to ask @abbysimsfun can you see into the future? Or have you become like Heather and hacked into my queue? Because this post has been in the queue 2 maybe 3 weeks now (as of this edit) waiting to go live on 10/24/2024 and then you had to make this comment ↓ that I saw today (again 10/11/2024)

on this → POST!!!!! Do you know that I literally knocked myself out of my chair literally doing this ↓ when I read it?!

AND COULDN'T SAY ANYTHING WITHOUT GIVING ANYTHING AWAY!!!!!!

Anyway hope you're having a fabulous day 👋 🧡 U!!

🫶

[salaminus]

Rex & Cody and the stolen commando

Summary:

Cody has stolen a commando from Kamino. But Cody isn't there to pick up his package himself, so he sends it to Rex because he can. Rex hasn't slept more than an hour in 48 hours, the caf is empty, his back hurts and there's a stupid commando in his hangar causing stress with Torrent!

Non-native speaker, pleaser bear with me.

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1:

Rex might kill someone. Fives would be best. Or Hardcase. Or Denal. Or Attie - not Coric, he's a medic - forget it, Coric too. It's best if he stabs himself as well.

Two hours of sleep, just two hours of undisturbed sleep, but no, he won't get it because he has to have Torrent under his command.

Rex trudges more than he has to - the door shoots open in front of him, a bunch of shinies salute, yeah yeah, get out of there now, he desperately needs a caf. Someone better not have drunk all the rations, because his personal supply is empty. How can something like that happen, kriffing shit. How and when!

His boys know better than to talk to him, after all. First course through the canteen, past the crowded tables. Far too little blue in the white sea of plastoid, that's unpleasant, it should be different. Problem for later, first the most important thing - caf, otherwise Rex will fall asleep. His eyes burn, when he blinks, his eyelids feel like they're stuck, he always needs two seconds before he can open them completely.

Past the queue - every now and then it pays to be a kama wearer, it has to, you don't forget the pain from back then - to the large plastoid cup, full of the strange powder from which the stuff is made. Step by step, he should be able to see the black stuff, but the large bowl remains nice and white.

What.

He stands in front of it - a pitiful little pile of powder, down in the corner, it barely fits on a fingernail is in the box, otherwise it's empty. Scratched out, rather licked out. This can't be true! Rex wants to scream, knock the box off the table, he's already clenching his fist when his com flashes happily. Karking fucking green, "WHAT!"

"Good morning to you too, sunshine."

Cody, of course, the little bastard grins and Rex can hear it, it makes his blood boil. "What do you want, shebs, I hope for your sake it's important and if it was a good morning I wouldn't hear your voice!"

Behind him, his men twitch, the very young ones, the babies, look almost terrified. Take a breath, really deep, relax your fingers - no, the box doesn't get punched, but it deserves it, damn Kark – Calm down now, he's kriffing Captain, he can't do that, ARCs are allowed to do that, Captains aren't. He's ARC too, quips an evil ugly voice in his head, it would only be boxing the damn bowl once....

Cody at the com snorts through his nose. "Rex'ika, got off on the wrong foot? Did they turn you inside out in the retorts? You're talking to a marshal commander."

Oh, fuck YOU.

"Kark you, you shithead. What do you want? If this was in any way official, you wouldn't be greeting me with sunshine, don't fucking give me ranks!"

A brief pause at the other end - a pause in which Rex slams a hand on the kitchen counter so that the karking droid behind it turns around. He does so, agonizingly slowly; if Rex reacted like that with Natborns, he would have been on Kamino long ago for insubordination. "Is there still caf here today, or why is the bucket empty?"

Droids, Rex hates them, especially that one. If anyone else says they can't smile, oh yes, they can, and it does it as sneakily as ever, tilting its head and waddling a step towards Rex. "CT-756---"

 "That wasn't the question, damn it - Where. is. My. Caf!"

"Rex," Cody says at the wrist - oh, no sunshine, no hypocritical smile on his lips that you can literally hear, much better, but Cody's off the air now, Rex needs caffeine before he kills someone.

Droidy doesn't understand, his head just jerks up and down at Rex. "I suggest you go to your commanding clone until you've calmed down."

Rex is about to light something on fire. "I am MY commanding- Is there still caf here now, yes, or no, that was a simple question!"

"If you do not leave this room immediately, soldier, I will inform your superior officer..."

Okay, that's it. Rex is just going to jump over the counter, rip the droid's head off and look for Caf himself, simple as that. He's already got one leg over the counter when someone shouts a very hasty: "Sir!"

Some reflexes can't be helped when they've been pumped into your brain since early childhood, so Rex turns to the speaker anyway - a shiny, completely white, but he has a rather impressive tattoo on his face, a huge V. Much better tattoo choice than Jesse, but what does he expect from Jesse, he already shares the same initial with Jojo, which says it all - wait a minute.

His vod'ika swallows hard, somehow managing to stand even more at attention than before - and he holds out a cup to him. A mug filled with... not caf, no. Coffee, the stuff from the big machine that Nici has set up and which spits out fantastic hot drinks for two hours a day, desirable enough that you now have to register the squads.

Foot back off the counter, Rex walks up to the shiny, forcing himself to take a deep breath. "Name."

That sounded brutal, as if he wanted to berate him, Rex sees him flinch and raises his hand. "I'm sorry. What's your name, vod'ika, I'm in a terrible fucking mood, it's not your fault though."

Minimal relaxation in the eyes of his little brother in front of him, but overall he still stands there with his arm with the cup stretched out like a flagpole. "Sir! Dogma, sir, CT-5784! I have been assigned to the Platoon Bravo--"

Dogma, then, one of the names that was more of a insult. Innately, Rex writes a note to himself to introduce him to Echo.

"That's enough for me, thank you, Dogma."

Take the cup, give the rookie a quick pat on his shoulder. "And you just forget your number. Just like..."

Then he spins around - oh, the cup is warm, really warm, the coffee is still fresh, praise be to Prime's mother –, and stares at the room as best he can with his helmet on. Rex doesn't like to shout, but today everything sucks and therefore he's allowed to do so. "We all forget what I did at the dispenser, is that clear? The second I hear a word about it, you run penalty laps until you vomit!"

Silence, pleasurable silence in the room, wonderful. Rex could just lie down and sleep now, instead he grips his mug tighter and nods to the shiny in front of him. "Thanks for the caf, kid. You're saving some people's lives today and they'll never appreciate it - Cody, what do you want now and keep it short, my patience is shorter today than the time Kenobi has his lightsaber in his hand and doesn't lose it!"

Cody has the decency to wait half a second. Rex takes advantage of this and walks past Dogma to the exit, clutching the cup tightly. Behind him, the droid wants to complain, "Cups may not be removed from the canteen", which Rex acknowledges with a middle finger and "Write to my superior, clanker!", for which he doesn't turn around.

He's almost out of the room, almost behind the saving door, when Cody starts talking. "So, I need you to take something for me. I stole a batch from Kamino."

That's it. Rex rips off his helmet, vaguely sees the horrified looks - never seen anyone go 48 hours without sleep, eh! - and starts drinking the caf in order to down it in one go.

"Hello, are you still there - listen, what's wrong with you, didn't get enough sleep?"

Cody’s about to get slapped in the face. "Commander, kriff yourself, respectfully said. If I haven't slept enough, you're karking kidding, Cody - or you know what, I don't care. I don't want to know. I don't want to know what you did. When is your stupid fucking batch coming and how exactly I'm supposed to proceed with them!"

"That's... quite simple."

Rex pauses. Firstly, he can already feel the caffeine - no, but the warmth of the coffee for that, the smell alone soothes him like a comforting blanket it drapes over him, making his aching eyes blink more easily. However, Cody paused in his sentence, one of the very long ones, and then came the word 'Just'. Something here stinks big time.

"What's that supposed to mean."

"Well, you don't have to do anything, it's a commando."

NOW he’s dead. "A karking COMMANDO?!"

"Don't shout like that. A very nice one, an experimental unit, under my command, you don't have any flimsiwork or anything, you just have to receive it, you can do that, can't you?"

This little fucker. Rex grinds his teeth and marches on towards the exit of the canteen, his eyes stubbornly fixed ahead. Keep thinking about the coffee in his hand. It will help him against everything, against the karking universe, full of stupid, stupid older brothers.

" Receive it for you, Commander. And why doesn't Jango's Pride and Glory do it himself!"

"Rex, I'm not there, we're way off the grid. All you have to do is take the batch and keep it for me, you can do that!"

Rex can do anything because he has to. "Is that an order?"

"If that's what you want," Cody doesn't even have the decency to sound meaner, "then yes. Otherwise it's a favor, but if I order you to do it, I'll forget the part."

"Do it, you douche. I have so many favors with you, I couldn't even redeem them if I wanted to - when's your Commando coming and why are you only telling me about it now?"

"Because it wasn't certain yet..."

Lazy excuse and he knows it. There's something else going on, but Cody doesn't want to say it. Should make Rex even grumpier, but he doesn't even know if that's possible. First he trudges down the corridor towards his quarters. Skywalker better does not want anything from him now, he has reports to finish.

"Yes. So - they're landing soon, they'll be coming out of hyperspace in three hours. I'd be grateful if you could keep them safe... until we meet again or they leave on their own because they've been assigned a mission."

Oh great, wonderful. Just keep walking, he's almost there.

"Rex. Hello?"

No, Rex is not here. Rex has to accept deliveries for stupid ori'vods.

"I've already sent you the files. They're all less than ten years old, by the way, just so you're prepared. I have to---"

"Kote." Rex hisses into the com, stops and bares his teeth involuntarily. "you're sending me an unfinished trained Commando, an experimental unit younger than kriffing Domino Squad?"

"Just a little younger, Rex, and it's a Commando."

"That's exactly the problem!"

MASTERLIST