#faye cross

[redstarcat]

Hooman loves his genderfluid spouse

[dunyun-rings]

Doodles of some of my favorite characters

(part 1/?)

[fruitheart]

can I request a afab nb reader x rex angst fluff fic? maybe like one of his explosives go off and injures reader and they lose their memory of who he is 😖

i know you

Rex Sloan/Splode x AFAB/NB!Reader

note ; this was such a cute idea to me HEHE, of course, here you go.. ( ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ ) fyi reader is a super

Everyone told him it wasn’t his fault. They told him it was an accident, that he hadn’t meant to. He’d have never meant to. Rex didn’t need people telling him he would have never meant to do it to know that was the truth. He was an asshole, but he wasn’t evil. Never would he have done what led up to this on purpose.

Words of reassurance and attempted comfort from everyone trying to help him feel better, trying to prevent him from blaming himself any more than he already was fell completely through. He was good at acting unbothered at first though, worried, but unbothered.

It didn’t work, how could it? When he closed his eyes, he could see you. The realization, the complete fear in your eyes, then the small flash of acceptance before the explosion went off. It was his fault the explosion happened to begin with.

When he closed his eyes, he could hear your voice call out to him before the explosion engulfed you, before it consumed you whole. He could see the look on your face right before it happened, you knew he was going to blame himself for it.

Every time he slept, he dreamt of it. Every time he laid in his bed at night and found himself finally drifting off to sleep, he was quickly met with the memory of how everything unfolded.

“Quit being such a hardass!” You scolded him. “Just follow the plan, Rex! Stop being so annoying.”

He should have listened.

He didn’t.

“Quit being such a hardass.” He mocked as you flew off, “What a bitch, they think I’m annoying?” He scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I mean, am I right?” Rex turned towards Kate, trying to get someone to agree with him.

“You should listen to them, Rex.” She glared, “Before you get one of us killed.” Running off before he could argue back with her.

He should have listened.

He didn’t.

Back-and-forth bickering between you two while in the middle of a battle. Maybe if he didn’t argue with you, he would have been paying attention to what he was doing. But that’s not how it happened.

“Damn it, Rex! Now’s not the time!” You called out from afar, busy trying to keep back Komodo Dragon. “Just shut up!” Senses overwhelmed, trying to keep up with arguing back with him amongst all the chaos.

“I’m just saying, you’re always giving me shit! You’re not exactly any better!” He shouted. Hands grasping one of the metal bars attached to his hip, charging it quickly and throwing it past you, creating a small explosion to back off the rest of the Lizard League. The explosion causing your ears to ring.

It was too much, you couldn’t keep up. It wasn’t your fault, Rex should have taken notice. He should have taken the situation seriously. Instead he was too caught up in a game of who can win the argument.

Charging another metal bar strong enough to completely decimate anyone near it, he should have noticed how disoriented you were. He thought you would have seen the explosive being chucked towards you both. He thought you would have moved out of the way in time. You were always quick with it, you were always well coordinated and aware of everything going on, you were always ready.

He should have paid attention.

You noticed the metal bar rolling towards you too late, you didn’t see it until it was already at your feet. Head snapping up at Rex, his face morphed from smug at his earlier retort, to complete horror. His lips parted and his voice screamed out your name.

Your hand reached out towards him as you attempted to move away, mouth opening,

“Rex–!”

The flash of the explosion lit your face before he could see nothing at all but the aftermath. Hands quickly wafting away the smoke as panic had his nerves shot. Ears ringing and eyes wide, he ran as fast as he could, stumbling over chunks of rubble and debris. Throat tight and scratchy as he continued to shout your name, calling out to you.

His brain saved every little detail to torment him. It saved every millisecond of it. It saved the way you looked when he found you. Bloodied and bruised, a nasty gash to your head that oozed blood down your face, patches of your skin reddened and burned. Even your suit was barely intact as most of it had been torn and burned.

Rex felt sick. How could he not? It was enough to make anyone hate themselves, it was enough to make him hate himself.

He replayed it again and again in his head until the thought made him feel like puking. He dreamt it again and again until he’d wake up gasping for air, muscles cramping and body shaking. Rex wouldn’t ever have done anything like that on purpose.

He’d have never hurt you. It didn’t matter how many times the both of you argued. How many times he called you names and how many shouting matches you had.

Weeks went by, weeks of watching you lay still in a hospital bed. In a cold white room with monitors that beeped and showed how your body was holding up.

Cecil told him how it was no surprise you survived, advanced durability, you were always able to take a nasty hit. But the damage inflicted was painful, especially the blow to your head.

It was enough to send you into a coma. They didn’t know what your status would be when you woke up, if you were to ever wake up. It didn’t matter to him, he would have sat next to your bed for the rest of his life if it called for it.

He told himself it was his fault. He didn’t care what anyone else said, he didn’t care about the reassuring remarks and pleas to just give himself a break. It was his fault he had to watch you lay there hooked up to machines. He was good at playing it off like it was no big deal, like he knew you’d come back from it, hiding away the worry.

Rex was a prick, he was a stubborn asshole, but even he couldn’t stop himself from pressing his ear up to your chest and listening to your heartbeat. And when someone walked in, he pretended he wasn’t just holding your hand in his.

He’d wait until others left before fixing your hair, brushing it out from your face and making sure you looked like you were comfortable.

He’d never show that he cared, you’d have teased the absolute living hell out of him for it, but when you looked like this, when the overwhelming guilt made itself known again… Rex caught himself holding the side of your face in the palm of his hand.

If it took living out the rest of his life sleeping in a chair beside you, he’d do so.

─ ୨୧ ─

When he walked in this morning, he was surprised to see a couple of people already standing outside your room. He was usually the first and only one to visit you at the start of the day.

“What the hell is going on here? A party? Move people!” He scoffed, trying to push past Kate and Eve.

“Rex, wait–” Eve reached for him, putting a hand to his shoulder, keeping him from reaching the door as she pulled him away.

Growing annoyed he turned to her, “What the hell, Eve? What?”

“I don't think it's a good idea seeing them right now–”

“Yeah, Eve’s right, Rex.” Mark added in.

“Huh? What is this? Move out the way, Jesus.” Rex shouted, brushing Eve’s hand off as he reached for the door handle, ready to barge in without so much as listening to them. Expecting the worst given how everyone was acting.

Swinging the door open, he was met with… Well, you. You were finally awake. He felt more than relieved, his body almost going weak at the sight of you awake and looking around. To hear your voice as you spoke to Cecil before cutting yourself off at his intrusion, eyes slowly glancing at him up and down.

Cecil turned towards him, before he could spare Rex from what was to come, he was already opening his mouth,

“Holy shit! You're awake! Oh my God, finally!” He beamed, quickly stepping to the side of the bed, grabbing your arms.

“You were out for weeks!” He laughed, “We can finally get you out of here! You don’t know how fuckin’ boring it was staying in here waiting on your ass.” His hands reached to help you out from the bed.

“Rex, I don’t think–”

“Who are you?”

At first it didn’t register what you said, not fully. He looked at you funny, like you were making some kind of bad joke, eyebrow raising and lip twitching into a smirk. Until he realized nobody had the same reaction as him. Looking back at you to watch as genuine confusion stayed on your face. His hands falling to his sides.

“What?” He laughed once more, disbelief, hidden denial.

“It’s… It’s me. Rex, it’s… I’m Rex– I’m,” He stuttered over his words, looking around. From you, to Cecil, to everyone standing outside your room.

“What the fuck is happening?” He didn’t want to face it. Not even when you looked at him wide-eyed and confused. “You know who I am, stop shitting around. I get it! I get it, I should have listened but don’t–”

“Rex.” Cecil spoke, tone stern, warning him to stop speaking. Motioning his head towards the door as he walked out, Rex followed right behind him. He spared you one more glance before closing the door behind him.

“They don’t remember who you are–”

“Bullshit!” Rex shouted, defensive and unwilling to believe it. Unwilling to accept it. “You expect me to believe this? I’ve been putting up with their ass for years!” He shook his head, looking from one person to another, desperate for some sort of support in his words. No one backed him up.

Cecil pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing, “They suffered a concussion, they were put into a coma– Rex, they don’t remember a couple of things. Alright? I understand it’s not easy–”

“My ass they don’t remember! You know, this is fucked up, alright? Whatever this game is, it’s fucked! And I’m not playing along.” He huffed, turning and reaching for the handle once more. Eyes peering through the small window in the door, watching as you looked around the room.

You looked so lost; you really didn’t remember. His jaw clenched, trying to keep it together. The look on your face when you caught him staring. You really did have no clue who he was, you didn’t remember him.

“Rex. It was an accident, it’s not your fault.” Eve tried to reassure, pressing a hand to his back. He couldn’t even take his eyes off you to look at her. “I’m sure somewhere deep down, they know who you are, they just can’t remember right now.”

“They’re suffering from memory loss.” Cecil spoke, “Their condition doesn’t seem too bad. They don’t recall who certain people are or the incident but the best we’re hoping for is that it doesn’t get worse and eventually they’re able to recover their memory.”

─ ୨୧ ─

He tried to pretend like it didn’t bother him. Like he was okay with you not remembering him. Not that he was good at pretending the more time went on. Yet he didn’t let it stop him from being right by your side while you were recovering. Rex was insistent on staying right by you, even if he still was being an ass.

He woke up rather early, back aching from sleeping in a chair that was far from comfortable. Letting out a groan, he stretched before settling back down.

Looking over at you, he hadn’t realized he was watching you sleeping peacefully for a bit now until he noticed one of your eyes open and staring right back at him. Earning an embarrassed reaction out of him as he cleared his throat.

You snorted, rubbing your face before sitting up. “How many more times am I going to catch you watching me sleep.” You yawned.

Rex turned away, flustered and slightly annoyed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He rolled his eyes, “...When did you wake up?”

“As soon as you started staring at me.”

“I wasn’t staring.” He sneered.

“Uh huh, sure. You totally weren’t, stranger.”

“Shut up.” He groaned, slumping in his seat.

You rolled your eyes, laying back on your side as you pulled the thin sheet over your head and shielded your eyes from the light. The sound of Rex’s foot tapping against the tiled floor as he bounced his leg filling in the silence for a few minutes.

“I’m not a stranger.” His tone was almost upset. You were quiet for a bit,

“I know you’re not,” This was recurring between the two of you. He didn’t like it when you made those little comments, when you made it apparent you really didn’t remember who he was anymore. It made him feel bad. It made you feel bad. Even if you didn’t exactly remember him, you at least knew he meant something to you before.

From the way he talked about it, day after day in an attempt to help you recover what you lost, you knew you meant something to him too. He was arrogant, sure. Impulsive, full himself and a jerk, but something in you didn’t all too much mind. Like you knew he was capable of more than that.

“Sorry.”

He frowned, the last thing he wanted was to make you feel like anything was your fault. Especially when he was the reason you ended up here. If it were anybody else, he probably wouldn't have cared, but you weren't anyone else.

“It's whatever, It’s not like I’m upset or anything.”

You pulled the sheet down a bit, peering at him with an unamused look.

“You’re a horrible liar.”

“Not lying.”

“Are too.”

He leaned in, glaring at you with a pout of his lip. “How is it that you forgot me but you haven’t forgotten how to be so God damn annoying.”

You shrugged your shoulders, “If I’m so annoying then why are you still here.” Sitting up once more as you leaned into him as well, expression smug and teasing. Rex faltered, heat rising to his face before he sat back and looked away from you. Trying to play off the way his face reddened.

In truth, Rex always thought you were really attractive, now he wouldn’t say it to your face, never would he admit it to you or anyone for that matter. It’d just feed your ego, ironically coming from the guy with the biggest ego out of the two of you. But he also refused to admit to it out of embarrassment.

Embarrassed to admit that the sound of your voice and the sight of you were all very attractive to him, comforting even. Back then he was able to ignore it but since the accident, he realized just how much he thought about it. Nearly losing you was enough to shove those feelings in his face and force him to acknowledge it.

It made him sad however, you were still the same, no doubt. From the way you got on his nerves and how he felt towards you, but you no longer knew him like you used to. It felt cruel, like this was his punishment for not listening.

If this was his punishment, then he’d stick through it until the day you do remember him.

The feeling of you pinching his leg pulled him out of his thoughts,

“Ow! What the fuck?! Asshole.”

“You were staring off again, I thought you were having a stroke or something.”

He glared at you, you responded with a sheepish smile and a shrug of your shoulders. He sighed, sulking in his seat, you couldn’t help but feel bad. It felt horrible to not remember anything, but you figured it must have felt worse finding out someone you’ve known for years one day forgot all about you.

“Do you really not remember me?” It wasn’t the first time he’s asked this.

It wasn’t your first time responding, “I don’t.”

Rex looked at you, studying your face before averting his eyes as soon as you looked back at him.

“I really am sorry.”

“It’s not–”

“I am.” You tried not to tear up over it, you tried not to feel horrible for the way his eyes seemed glossy every time he remembered you didn’t know him anymore. Turning your face away, you took a deep breath before continuing,

“I know it’s not my fault or anything but it feels that way you know?” Looking down at your hands playing with the thin sheet of the bed. “I want to remember, I do– but I just, can’t. I’m trying… trying to remember.” Holding your breath to keep yourself from tearing up.

His hands gripped the arms of the chair, itching to reach out and hold you.

“Deep down I know you meant something to me before, everything you tell me feels right. I trust you, and I want to keep trying to remember–”

Rex stood from his seat, arms reaching up to wrap around your body as he held you close to him. Chin rested on your shoulder as one of his hands pressed itself into the back of your head. Tears threatening to spill from your eyes, you tried to ignore the burning sensation before eventually succumbing to it.

“Everything tells me I know you, it’s all I feel.” His hand buried itself in your hair, pressing his face into your neck.

Blinking away the tears in your eyes before he could see them when he pulled away.

He let out a dry laugh, “Talk about being fuckin’ sappy, jeez.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so annoying.”

─ ୨୧ ─

You’d spend a couple more days recovering, well, you had already recovered a bit ago but Cecil was insistent you stay just to make sure you’d be fine. Which you reluctantly agreed to.

Tonight was your final night here however, the thought made you relieved. Having been long tired of the stiff hospital bed and a sheet that made you itchy sometimes, you were happy to finally go back home.

Rex made sure you were comfortable, asking over and over if you needed anything, to which you responded with an exasperated ‘yes’ the more he kept asking, kicking his leg with your foot whenever you could tell he was about to ask again.

He was dead set on staying, even on your last night here. The thought made you giggle to yourself at his “hidden” worry.

You snuggled into the blanket, burying the side of your face into the pillow. Eyes just barely open to be able to still see him. Watching as he watched you. It made you feel warm, trying not to make it obvious you were grinning as you peeked at him. He would have never been like this before.

Oh yes, you remembered. Your memory had finally come back just yesterday, yet you held off on telling him as an ‘I told you so’ for not listening to you.

Watching as he squirmed in his seat, uncomfortable and tired. You rolled your eyes and sighed, sitting up and scooting over in the bed.

“Come here.”

“What?”

You patted the space next to you, “Come here you dumbass, lay down.” He hesitated at first before standing up and scooting next to you, laying on his side, facing you. “God, you’re dumb.”

“Shut up, man.”

Pinching him roughly as your arms slithered to wrap around his neck, face pressed comfortably into his collar. Rex freezed up for a moment, until he eventually found his arms wrapping around your back, pressing you into him as he rested his chin on the top of your head.

You giggled to yourself, “You never would have done this before.”

He rolled his eyes, “You don’t even know that! I could have been a total sweetheart back then.”

Bursting into laughter, you held onto him tighter, “Yeah I do, total sweetheart my ass.”

“How? You don’t remember anything–”

You stayed silent, grinning against him as your legs entwined with his.

“Right? You still… don’t remember, right?” He asked, heart thumping against his ribcage. The sound of it comforting, making you giddy. Pulling your face away from him to look up at him, giving him a teasing smirk.

“Oh, you are… such a fucking dick.” He groaned, unable to hide the way his face softened. His hand made its way into your hair as he pressed you back into him. Relief washing over him as he realized you were finally back, really back. As he realized you finally remembered him.

Arms tightening around his neck, you pressed a soft peck to his cheek, noting the way one hand grasped onto your waist and wrapped around you tighter.

“You deserved it. Don’t blow me up next time, jackass.”

“I get it! Trust me, I won’t be doing that again any time soon.” He grumbled, pouting his lip.

Shrugging your shoulders, “I forgive you… obviously.”

Letting out a soft exhale through your nose, you listened intently to the way his heart slowed into a relaxed beat. Closing your eyes and slowly falling asleep in his embrace.

“...I–”

“I love you too, Rex.”

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

Trying out a recipe I found for an overnight-rise foccacia dough. Haven't made bread in a while, fingers crossed

[popclture]

Chinatown (1974)

[botanicallyinclinednerd]

Asking a question of @night-faye right now and I'm either going to be REALLY happy at what he tells me, or I'm about to be absolutely devestated

[clemsfilmdiary]

Midnight Crossing (1988, Roger Holzberg)

7/7/24

[pxiedustnblades]

There’s something familiar about her dream Guardian….

….

Oh.

[ailoda]

updated: 05.01.25

݁₊ ⊹ smut

Don't Blame Me (✘): Daphne Bridgerton is your closest childhood friend, her eldest brother, Anthony, is the love of your life. After avoiding each other for years, you both finally lose control. (@peachpitfics)

Lady Bridgerton (✘): reader has been married to Anthony Bridgerton for too long, it feels, although it has only been a few years. In that short time, not only has he only touched her naked body once, but he comes home most nights smelling of sweat and another woman’s perfume. Lady Whistledown has caught wind of this, and the gossip sends Lady Bridgerton over the edge. Anthony takes the time to give his wife exactly what she’s asking for. (@sixx-sixx-sixx)

Yes, My Lord? (✘): since finding out you are pregnant Anthony simply cannot keep his hands to himself, and when you turn the tables his arousal runs wild. (@kylopen)

Soaked (✘): after reader is stranded by a carriage mishap, she finds herself lost in an attempt to make her way home alone. Luckily for her, another carriage happens to cross her path, belonging to none other than the Viscount Bridgerton himself… (@strangererotica)

↪︎ Part Two (✘): after accidentally causing Reader’s very first orgasm, Anthony does what any gentleman would do: he teaches her how to make it happen again, anytime she likes… ♥️

Convenience (✘): marrying to fulfil one’s duties is sound in theory when both parties are willing. This does not however take into consideration their wants and needs - emotional and otherwise. (@ontheoddoccasioniwritestuff)

Selfish (✘): it’s your first morning at home in bridgerton house as the viscountess- only thing is, your husband’s selfish. (@leviathanspain)

Rebel (✘): you only wanted a quiet refuge away from the ball, you got a lot more than that… (@fayes-fics)

Exquisite Weather Today, No? (❤✘): Anthony does not want to corrupt his innocent little wife... but what happens when his brothers lend him a helping hand? (@bellatrixscurls)

[scapegoated-if]

DEMO (56K) SOUNDTRACK PINTEREST Prologue Release Date: 15th Dec 2024

All the leaves are brown, and the sky is grey.

18+ This interactive story includes graphic violence, sexual content, alcohol and drug use, profanity and more.

Disclaimer Gender and race-locked IF due to discussions of gender and racial politics throughout.

Take centre stage as a former-rockstar turned actress navigating your new career and the chilling grip of fan-obsession. Your once-famous band may be nothing short of a ghost of the past to you, but the rest of the world cannot seem to let go. The split in 1968 was scandalous, abrupt and mysterious. And although you’ve thrown yourself into acting and secured your first major role with a big time Hollywood director, whispers of blame have been on your tail ever since.

While most of Hollywood sees these rumours for what they are--empty gossip--a darker current takes precedence and poses a much more sinister threat to your life and the lives of those around you.

✼ Shape and mould into your truest ‘70s self. Perhaps you’re a mod-girl or a hippie? ✼ Interact with '60s and '70s icons on the Sunset Strip. ✼ Help uncover the identity of the 'Ampersand Killer' terrorising the West Coast. ✼ Decide which career path is more fitting for you. Are you made to live on the silver screen or stadium stages? ✼ Maintain and better your physical health and self-defence skills. ✼ Pick from a selection of love interests (including two gender-choice options). ✼ Includes an array of potential flings. ✼ A catalogue of original songs for fictional musicians.

Vincent "Vince" Buscemi, the ex-bandmate ⇢ You were part of one of the most renowned bands of the '60s together. Vince is a jaded soul, harbouring deep-seated reservations about many people--most notably the band's keyboardist--but he has always had a soft spot for you. Despite his guarded demeanour, he exudes effortless charm and impeccable manners, a testament to his healthy upbringing. Though widely celebrated as a pop-culture heartthrob, Vince defies superficial stereotypes. His truest passion lies in music, and it's clear that nothing in the world brings him greater joy.

Penn Hausler, the filmmaker ⇢ Though still considered an up-and-coming filmmaker, Penn has already made a name for himself as a creative force in the industry, thanks to his latest hit starring Faye Dunaway. He radiates charisma, with a shining personality and a sharp sense of humour. He's unmistakably a nerd--passionately devoted to his craft. He's also prone to being a bit of a square, often finding himself tangled in bouts of nervous awkwardness. Despite this, his unwavering commitment to his vision sets him apart, and he's not afraid to take bold creative risks. Case in point: he has cast you as a supporting actress in his next film.

Kai/Kaya Anahareo (m/f), the folksinger ⇢ Although they haven't yet broken into the mainstream, K is a highly skilled musician deeply respected by their peers. Their artistry intertwines seamlessly with their role as a political activist, with much of their protest powerfully conveyed through their music. K is the embodiment of levelheadedness, exuding an aura of calm and balance that draws people to them. Their presence is steady and reassuring, much like the songs they sing--thoughtful, impactful and unwavering.

Dorinda Fisher, the journalist ⇢ Dorinda is a sharp, driven and fiercely dedicated journalist. Relentless in her pursuit of a story or a hard-to-find answer, she doesn't back down easily. Hailing from a small town, she's well-read and possesses a no-nonsense approach to life. You first crossed paths through your bandmate, whom she dated earlier in your career. During the US leg of your tour, she joined the band on the road while freelancing, documenting the whirlwind of your band's journey during a fair few defining months in your rise to fame.

Please note: You will have the option to decide whether the two of you had a romantic connection in the past while you were on the road. If you choose not to follow through with this backstory, you can still romance her as a new connection.

Phillip/Phyllis Wright (m/f), the movie star ⇢ P is a Hollywood icon, a name already as timeless and celebrated as the likes of both Hepburns, Cary Grant and Sidney Poitier. An Academy Award-winning actor, they embody the pinnacle of cinematic stardom, capturing Penn's admiration and dream of collaboration. Known for their charm, striking good looks and effortless sophistication, P commands every room they enter.

Lesley Nielsen, the detective ⇢ Detective Inspector Nielsen is a man married to his work. His guarded and disciplined demeanour can often make him seem laborious, but beneath the tough exterior lies a dry wit and the ability to crack a well-timed joke. A strikingly handsome gentleman, he's adept with a handgun and keeps one at his side at all times. A seasoned veteran of the force, Nielsen only crosses paths with you once he's assigned as the lead detective on the high-profile Ampersand Killer case. Whether you share much in common is up in the air, but one thing is certain: your mutual determination to bring a cold-blooded murderer to justice.

[redstarcat]

Some OC stuff

COMMISSIONS | WEBSITE | BLUESKY | TWITTER

[azrielmasterlist]

Petals & Shadows

Storyline:- Where after his near kiss with elain, he's left confused and lonely, taking a new mission from rhysand he left for some lone time to wander around when he met Her. A Garden Fairy. So beautiful and god he was hooked the moment his eyes fell on her.

Azriel x Garden Fairy

Words:- 2.3k

Warning:- Fluff

Azriel’s mind was a mess, swirling with thoughts he didn’t want to linger on. The near kiss with Elain haunted him, her delicate scent still clinging to his senses. He had thought for a fleeting moment that maybe—just maybe—he could be happy. But happiness was an illusion, wasn’t it? One he had never been destined to grasp.

Rhysand had given him a mission shortly after, sensing Azriel’s need to get away. He didn’t ask questions, didn’t prod. He only gave him space, which Azriel desperately needed. So he left Velaris behind, flying over endless forests and valleys, hoping the open sky and cold wind would clear his mind.

Yet nothing seemed to help.

He touched down in a meadow, his shadows curling around him protectively. The place was vibrant, teeming with wildflowers in every colour imaginable, and the air smelled fresh, earthy, and rich. It should’ve calmed him, but even here, he felt restless, a storm churning beneath his calm exterior.

That’s when he heard her laugh.

Azriel’s head snapped in the direction of the sound. It was light, musical, and utterly captivating. His shadows swirled toward it, eager to explore, but he didn’t need them to tell him where she was. He could see her.

She was standing in a small patch of greenery, her hands on her hips as she glared at a puddle of mud. Her friends, other garden fairies judging by their leafy attire and small, translucent wings, were giggling beside her.

“Yeah, no, I don’t like mud,” she said, wrinkling her nose adorably.

One of her friends tilted her head, clearly amused. “But you’re a garden fairy,” she pointed out as if that explained everything.

The fairy rolled her eyes dramatically, crossing her arms. “Ironic, isn’t it? Such a drama queen,” she added with a huff, earning more laughter from her friends.

Azriel found himself smiling before he could stop himself. There was something about her that drew him in, something light and warm that made the cold shadows within him retreat. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that way.

Her friends egged her on-again, gesturing toward the other side of the puddle. “Just jump.”

The garden fairy groaned, stomping her foot. “Okay, alright. I’m coming,” she said with exaggerated frustration before leaping over the mud in an awkward yet endearing manner.

Azriel’s shadows stirred around him, curious in this strange, captivating creature. He found himself stepping closer, careful to keep his footsteps silent, not wanting to disturb the moment.

But she noticed him anyway.

Her head turned toward him, and their eyes met. Azriel froze.

She was breathtaking.

Her skin seemed to glow under the sunlight, and her hair was a cascade of soft curls that shimmered like spun gold. But it was her eyes that held him captive—bright, sparkling, and filled with a mischievous warmth that made something stir in his chest.

“Oh, hello,” she said, tilting her head in curiosity. Her friends glanced at him, wary, but the garden fairy herself didn’t seem the least bit afraid. Instead, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them slightly. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

Azriel cleared his throat, trying to gather his composure. “No. I was… just passing through.”

Her lips curved into a teasing smile. “Well, you don’t look like the passing-through type.”

His brows furrowed. “What does that mean?”

She shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. “You look more like the brooding-in-the-shadows type. Very mysterious.”

Azriel blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her boldness. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused.

��I’m Azriel,” he said, deciding to ignore her teasing tone. “And you are?”

“Faye,” she answered with a grin. “Guardian of this little garden paradise.”

“Guardian?” he repeated, arching a brow.

“Well, technically a garden fairy, but guardian sounds cooler, don’t you think?”

Azriel found himself chuckling softly, something he rarely did. “Cooler, yes. Accurate? I’m not so sure.”

Faye placed a hand dramatically over her heart. “You wound me, stranger.” But there was no malice in her words, only humour. “So, Azriel, what brings you here? Besides brooding, of course.”

“I’m on a mission,” he said simply, though even he wasn’t sure what his mission was anymore. He had come here to find peace, but instead, he had found her—and she was anything but peaceful.

Faye studied him for a moment, her gaze sharp despite the lightness of her demeanor. “Well, if you’re going to be hanging around, you might as well help. This garden doesn’t take care of itself, you know.”

Azriel raised a brow. “Help? With what?”

She gestured to the greenery around them. “Watering, planting, weeding… you know, garden stuff.”

He looked down at his dark leathers, clearly not designed for gardening, and then back at her. “I don’t think I’m dressed for it.”

Faye laughed, a sound that made his shadows flicker in response. “Don’t worry, I won’t make you touch any mud. I know how awful it can be,” she said with a wink.

Azriel couldn’t help but smile again. This fairy was unlike anyone he had ever met. Bold, bright, and full of life—a stark contrast to the shadows that clung to him. And yet, he found himself drawn to her as if she was a light he hadn’t realized he needed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Over the next few days, Azriel stayed in the garden, helping Faye with her tasks despite his initial reluctance. They fell into an easy rhythm—she would chatter endlessly about the plants and flowers, and he would listen quietly, occasionally offering a dry comment that made her laugh.

They talked about everything and nothing, sharing stories and experiences. Azriel found himself opening up in ways he hadn’t thought possible, and Faye… Faye was simply herself, vibrant and unfiltered.

There were moments of quiet too, where they would sit together, watching the sunset paint the sky in hues of gold and crimson. In those moments, Azriel felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time—peace.

And with that peace came something else.

Something deeper.

Something he wasn’t sure he was ready to name.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

One afternoon, Azriel found Faye sitting on a rock, her hands covered in dirt as she tended to a patch of flowers. She looked up when she saw him, a smudge of dirt on her cheek.

“Don’t say it,” she warned, pointing a finger at him.

“Say what?” he asked innocently.

“Something about how ironic it is that a garden fairy doesn’t like mud.”

Azriel smirked. “I would never.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not believing a word he said. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re dramatic,” he shot back, his tone light.

Faye laughed, the sound like a balm to his soul. “Touché.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

The days passed in a blur of sunlight and laughter, and with every moment Azriel spent with Faye, he found himself growing more attached to her—this bold, vibrant garden fairy who somehow made his shadows feel less heavy.

For as long as he could remember, Azriel’s life had been one of duty, shadows, and unspoken desires. He had never allowed himself to entertain the idea of a different life—a lighter one, full of joy and warmth. And yet, here he was, standing in the middle of a blooming garden, watching Faye tease her friends and stomp around with exaggerated drama when forced to touch mud as if it were the bane of her existence.

He knew he should have left by now. His mission was complete—he had investigated the disturbances in the nearby forest, reported back to Rhysand, and confirmed there was no imminent threat. There was no reason for him to stay. And yet…

He stayed.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Azriel leaned against the trunk of a towering oak tree, arms crossed over his chest as he observed Faye from a distance. She was busy arranging a cluster of flowers into neat rows, her delicate fingers brushing over the petals with surprising care despite her earlier disdain for all things muddy.

“You’re staring again,” came a light voice from beside him. Azriel glanced to his left to see one of Faye’s friends—a fellow garden fairy with sharp green eyes and a knowing smirk.

“I wasn’t staring,” Azriel replied smoothly, though his shadows betrayed him, swirling restlessly around his shoulders as if they were unsettled by the accusation.

“Sure, you weren’t,” the fairy said, her tone teasing. “You know, if you like her, you could just tell her.”

Azriel shot her a warning look. “It’s not that simple.”

The fairy raised a brow. “Why not? You’re here, she’s here. You enjoy each other’s company.” She paused, her expression softening. “Faye may seem like she’s always full of light and laughter, but she doesn’t let people in easily. If she’s let you stay this long, it means something.”

Azriel’s gaze shifted back to Faye, who was now attempting to balance a watering can on her head, much to the amusement of the other fairies. Her laughter rang out across the meadow, clear and pure, and something in Azriel’s chest tightened.

Maybe the fairy was right. Maybe it did mean something.

But how could someone like him—who carried so much darkness—ever hope to deserve someone like Faye?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the garden was bathed in a warm golden glow, Faye found Azriel sitting alone on a flat rock by the stream. His shadows danced lazily around him, blending into the growing dusk. He looked so out of place in the peaceful garden, a figure of darkness surrounded by light. And yet, to Faye, he fit perfectly.

“Mind if I join you?” she asked, her voice soft.

Azriel glanced up, surprised. “Of course.”

She plopped down beside him, close enough that their shoulders almost touched. For a moment, they sat in silence, listening to the gentle burble of the stream.

“You know,” Faye began, her voice thoughtful, “I’ve been wondering something.”

Azriel tilted his head slightly, waiting for her to continue.

“Why did you stay?” she asked, turning to face him fully. “You finished your mission days ago. Most people would have left by now.”

Azriel hesitated, unsure how to answer. How could he explain that he stayed because of her? Something about her had captivated him in a way he hadn’t thought possible.

“I needed time to think,” he said at last, which wasn’t a lie—it just wasn’t the whole truth.

Faye didn’t press him, but there was a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, gone so quickly he almost missed it. “Well, whatever the reason, I’m glad you stayed,” she said with a smile. “You’re not half bad to have around.”

Azriel’s lips twitched upward. “High praise coming from someone who called me brooding and mysterious.”

“Hey, I call it like I see it,” Faye said with a playful shrug. Then, after a brief pause, she added, “You know, you don’t always have to be so serious.”

Azriel raised a brow. “I’m not serious all the time.”

“Oh?” Faye challenged a mischievous gleam in her eyes. “Prove it.”

Before Azriel could respond, Faye reached over and plucked a small flower from the ground, twirling it between her fingers. “Here. Hold this.”

Azriel took the flower, his large scarred hand dwarfing the delicate bloom. He stared at it, unsure what to do.

“Now,” Faye said, leaning closer, “smile.”

Azriel blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. Smile. Come on, I know you can do it.”

Azriel shook his head, but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re avoiding the challenge,” Faye shot back, crossing her arms.

With a resigned sigh, Azriel allowed himself a small smile—just enough to satisfy her demand.

“There it is!” Faye declared triumphantly. “See? Not so serious after all.”

Azriel’s smile widened just a fraction. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re adorable when you’re trying to be grumpy,” Faye teased, poking him lightly in the side.

Azriel chuckled softly, a sound that surprised even himself. He couldn’t remember the last time he had laughed—truly laughed. But with Faye, it felt natural, like breathing.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

As night fell and the stars began to twinkle above, Azriel found himself dreading the moment when he would have to leave. He didn’t want this—didn’t want to say goodbye to Faye and the light she had brought into his life.

But he knew he couldn’t stay forever. His duties in Velaris awaited him, and he had never been one to shirk responsibility.

Still, as he looked at Faye, who was now lying on the grass, pointing out constellations and spinning fanciful tales about them, he felt a longing he couldn’t ignore.

“I have to leave soon,” he said quietly, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.

Faye stilled, her hand pausing mid-gesture. Slowly, she sat up, her expression carefully neutral. “I figured as much.”

Azriel looked away, unable to meet her gaze. “I don’t want to.”

“Then don’t,” Faye said simply.

He turned back to her, surprised. “It’s not that simple.”

Faye sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I know. I just…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “I like having you here, Azriel. You make this place feel… different. Better.”

Her confession took him by surprise, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. But then, before he could overthink it, he reached out and took her hand in his.

“I feel the same way,” he admitted, his voice low. “You make me feel different. Better.”

Faye’s eyes widened slightly, but then she smiled—a soft, genuine smile that made Azriel’s heartache in the best way.

“Then stay a little longer,” she whispered. “Just a little longer.”

Azriel tightened his grip on her hand, a silent promise. “As long as you’ll have me.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist:-

@donnadiddadog @rcarbo1 @onebadassunicorn-blog @wintersquirrel

[dollarbils]

i know you | b.eilish

billie eilish x fem!reader

masterlist (it’s short but it’s here <3)

‘you’re holding me and holding back’

her hands were holding your hips, carefully and gently. she was scared to use more force, afraid she’d hurt you. she’d pick you up as if you were made of glass, carefully adjusting herself so that you were on top of her. your lips never disconnected, needing each other in order to not grow insane. she was so close to you yet somehow distant, as if she was restricting herself from relaxing into you, in fear of the inevitable outcome.

“so, pretty.” she said in between kisses, not giving you the chance to reply, too distracted by your lips. but she noticed the way your cheeks warmed with her words, visibly flushed.

‘i don’t really care for that, just you.’

and she did care for you, immensely. more than you’d ever know. but you’d wonder if she cared enough. because enough to you, meant more than the other girls. and you couldn’t be sure, but it’s what you wanted desperately. and even if she didn’t give a shit about you, the strength to break up this thing you had going, was something you’d never possess.

“mm, billie.” your speech was muffled by her tongue, but it was music to her ears regardless. none of them sounded like you. her name couldn’t sound as good as it did from your lips. but she never found the courage to tell you.

‘there’s a pause between every minute’

“alright, angel?” she broke away for air, and to smile at you, checking to see wether you were still okay. a small ‘mhm’ came from your throat, and she tilted her head to brush her lips against yours. she was breathing against you, mixing her breaths with yours as she kept smiling. that smile of hers only made your longing for her lips to return, grow. her hands caressed your waist, choosing to kiss you instead of speak words she’d soon regret. and despite her, smiling like an idiot, you hadn’t noticed her affection for you, the deep sense of happiness that took over her features.

“call me your angel again.” a soft laugh escaped her as she soaked in the scent of your hair, falling around her face, trapping the both of you in your own world. you wanted to hear the term of endearment in her voice again, choosing for it to let you escape the complicated reality. but why was it so complicated?

‘feeling like i need something’

it was clear you wanted her, wanted more from her. and, to her at least, it was clear she wanted more with you in return. the raging complication was fear. the deep, shattering fear of commitment. an issue that ran deep and wouldn’t be soothed by soft kisses and strokes of her toned back.

“my angel. my gorgeous fucking angel.” and it was true. in your heart you were hers, and she wholeheartedly returned the feeling. to speak of it was pushing too far, almost crossing the limit. a limit of what she could mentally handle. because to love you would mean to give up her freedom to leave if it got too much for her. but in the depths of her conscious mind, was the knowledge that even now, she could never leave you.

‘it’s just you.’

that was all you needed. each other, like this. holding your bodies gently, in an embrace that could never be labelled. and the other girls, not that there were that many though, were there to ease her insecurity of not being enough for you. not being good enough.

it was all fucking bullshit. but it worked. and neither of you could be bothered to settle the longing for a title. it was love in an unconventional form. but it was love nonetheless.

‘i’m here regardless of the pain, don’t ever tell me to go away, from you’

[b-lossm]

•+*Charm*+•

Vi x fem!reader [modern]

synopsis: She'd really hate to admit it, but she put her pride on the line

based on After the first kiss hc :)

"Coming!!" you shout as you finish putting your accessories on "just calm down.. the only thing you gotta do is be yourself!! and not be a loser sapphic oh god--" you mumble as you flatten out your shirt, looking yourself in the mirror and then opening the door for your girlfriend "There she is" she smiles cheeseily and hands you a bouquet of peonies and lilies "I um.. I remember you mentioning they're your favorite so--" you can see her rubbing the back of her neck while fidgeting with her carabiner, her cheeks betraying her and flushing a soft shade of red "They're amazing Vi, thank you!" she then pulls out a.. vase..? "I- um.. I thought you'd need one but like that sounds stupid now.." her face flushes red and you cheekily kiss her cheek while putting the flowers in the vase "s' perfect.." her head is filled with your giggles 'FAWWWKK' she thinks, quickly snapping out of the trance you put her in and opening the door for you "To m' truck?" you take her hand in yours "Too your truck"

--

When you eventually arrive at the record store you are just esthatic, its the kind of store that you see in movies,, and dreams, a place that you couldn't begin to describe even if you wanted to “Vi this is amazing..” you admire the atmosphere after she comes back from talking to some random worker "soo music girl... where too first?" she says while sneaking her hand into yours. You gladly lead her to the Indie section and grab Atlanta Millionaires club and Underdressed at the Symphony "you know Faye Webster..right?" you hear her nervous chuckles "umm yeah.. 'the day that I meant you I started dreaming' right..?" you smile as she sings a little part of her song "mhmmmm that's um.. on this album" you smile nervously and lead her to the pop section to get Charm and Immunity "you know Clairo?" “uhh.. yeah! who doesn't? she’s the one that made Bags right?” 'i forgot she liked this kind of stuff-- what if she thinks i'm stupid-' vi panics in her mind "hey um.. i know this cute little corner thing in this place, lets go"

Vi then takes your sweaty hand in her sweatier one and leads you to his cute little private room with a record player "ta daaa" her nervous chuckles fill your mind as you admire the atmosphere "ooh!" you giggle and excitedly sit in a bean bag next to the record player "What album first Vi?" "hmm how about...um... Charm?" you smile and play it "I really like it here,,thank you" she looks away and wipes a giddy smile off of her face "falling for me already hm sweet thing?" "sweet thing? i could get used to that.." you mumble softly as the song Terrapin plays, her sweet, raspy laugh fills your ears "you know you do shy away from others a lot" aw fuck she got me you think as you look away, finding a retort and looking back just to see her face inches from yours "jus' shut up" you blush "oh really?" she challenges, moving in while her eyes dart between your eyes and lips "mhmmm" you lean into her while closing your eyes slightly "is this okay?" she whispers, not wanting to ruin the moment but also not wanting to cross a line "yeah.." you whisper back as she space between you closes.

'she sounds so pretty' the pink haired girl in front of you thinks as you both hum harmoniously into the kiss. Eventually,,, you guys pull apart, breathlessly "soo umm......Juna" you smile awkwardly "this reminds me of you" you lean into her shoulder "i make you all feminine?" Vi whispers and fiddles with your hand "mhmm"

after your little interaction, and her buying you the same record you had your first kiss too, Vi drives you home, her sister making fun of her in her messages the whole way there.

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

Hai guyz :P i mighttt finish my stuff idk finals is coming up and i got 2 study

sorry if its bad i forced myself to write this

[fayes-fics]

Kinktober: Frottage

Kinktober 2024 Masterpost

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU.

Summary: Sometimes, you don't have to take your clothes off to have a good time...

Warnings: 18+ smut, minors DNI, fully clothed frottage, frottage against an item, frottage against another person, orgasms, cumming in clothing. Unsanctioned use of a yoga roller.

Word Count: 1.7k ('drabbles', Faye, you LIE to yourself)

Authors Note: Anon request fill that I saved for Kinktober. It's not that filthy, but it was fun to write. Thanks to Jermaine Stewart for the summary (none of you kids will get that reference, ah well). Dedicated to @chaoticcalzoneranchsports for a number of reasons. ;) Unbetaed. Enjoy! <3

It's all his fault. 

Since entering a relationship with him, you have been insatiably horny all the time. Even when he is not around, a need bubbles under the surface all the time, simmering on a low flame.

Like tonight. You try a yoga session to try and calm your mind, perhaps reset your libido. You are almost successful until your traitorous mind serves up a searing mental image of that crooked smile between your legs as he teases you mercilessly. And suddenly, your whole pelvis is thronging, a need that will only get worse unless you address it. 

So, almost defeated, you grab your foam roller and place it on the sofa, straddling it and, still fully clothed, start to rub upon it, your thoughts only of him, his handsome face, his skilful hands and tongue. The raised ridges of the roller drag just perfectly on all the right aching spots, even through your yoga pants, tilting your hips down, closing your eyes and throwing your head back.

And that is when he chooses to return home. Slipping in unheard via the front door as you practically ride the roller now. 

“Oh, I see… it’s that sort of Tuesday, is it?” 

Benedict’s rich, teasing baritone rings out across the room. 

You can hear the victorious smirk his face carries even before your eyes pop open, naturally pausing in your motions. He saunters closer, that smile you were just fantasising of here in the flesh. He’s dressed casually in grey sweatpants and a navy blue t-shirt, looking freshly showered, likely after a gym visit.

“Please don't stop on my account,” he adds playfully, raising a provocative eyebrow as he kicks off his shoes and leans against a pillar, crossing his arms and ankles casually.

“You could help,” you suggest plainly, not ashamed of your desires, starting to move again, loving the way his pupils dilate a fraction as you do.

“But I'm enjoying the view entirely too much…” he volleys back, watching you intently, the drag of your body over the roller. “Does that work? To get you off?” He clarifies when your brow knits.

“Yes, sometimes a good pelvic orgasm is just what's needed,” you respond, getting a fraction breathier with each gyration you make, loving the rapt audience he provides.

“What were you thinking about? Before I interrupted?” He inquires, his incisor hooking over his bottom lip, likely without him even realising, his eyes never leaving you, pinging between your lap and face.

“I think you know…” you exhale, rolling your hips in a circle, a mewl of enjoyment as you hit new spots of pleasure.

“Maybe…” he flirts, the quiet confidence he oozes at this moment just heightening the delicious thread of tension between you. “But tell me anyway,” he adds silkily, pushing off the pillar and drawing closer, hands flexing at his sides as if he is tamping down the urge to reach out and grab you.

“You. Your face between my legs, your tongue buried in me,” you fire back, loving how riled up he gets when you state such things plainly, his nostrils flaring slightly. 

With a quiet growl, he sinks to his knees right in front of you, and you gasp as his large hands land on your thighs, then slide heavily up to your hips, pressing down with a firm curl of his fingers into your flesh. The strength he exerts makes you squeak, the roller creaking quietly under you.

“Don't pretend you don't love it when I hold you down like this,” he challenges, his eyes flashing dangerously, knowing your mind is flooding with flashbacks of him doing just that: holding you pinned on his cock, eyes rolling, pussy fluttering from how good it is to be impaled on him. It makes you clench involuntarily, tacky dampness seeping into your underwear. He always intuits what you need before you even realise it yourself. “Keep going,” he adds, and it sounds closer to an order than a suggestion.

And so you do, riding a little harder, loving the sensation of his hands clamped onto the flare of your hips, his breath gusting warm onto your cheek as he leans in now, staring you down. 

“That’s it,” he encourages; a frisson runs down your spine at the low, smokey cadence he has slipped into. 

You swallow thickly and change motion, a back-and-forth rocking that has your knees bumping into him rhythmically.

“What about you?” you breathe, nodding to the swelling you can see now straining in the soft fabric of his sweatpants. “This could work for you too, you know…” you trail off, a sudden want to have him humping against you as he huffs excitedly right into your hair.

You peel his hands from you and flip around so your back is towards him, grabbing the sofa back, shifting yourself and the roller forward so there is room behind you. Knowing the sight of your behind in tight lycra right in front of him will be a temptation he cannot resist. Surely enough, you don't even need to guide him; those hands land on you, grasping and kneading your bum cheeks.

“Your arse is fantastic…” he growls, a wave of viscous desire at how much he wants you as his grip slides back up to your hips, forcing your pelvis down onto the roller, again just as you need.

“Show me. Come rub up on me,” you simper with a come hither look over your shoulder, placing your hands over his, lacing your fingers together.

You can’t prevent your victorious smile as the sofa dips with him climbing on behind you. The smell of his woodsy, fresh shower gel clinging to his skin as he envelopes you, his lips sliding over the shell of your ear.

“You want me to cum in my underpants like a teenage boy?” he gusts, and you nod enthusiastically, loving that idea. “Well, sorry to disappoint, but I’m not wearing any…” he adds in a heated whisper. It's then he grinds his pelvis into yours, the heated outline of his cock insistent through the thin layers between you.

“That's even hotter…” you confess shakily, loving the idea of his cum pooling stickily on the material of his sweatpants. 

He groans softly, his fingers flexing on you, shuffling closer so his whole clothed body is pressed into yours, so much heat and power. He slides his rigid mass into the cleft of your bottom, and you moan lightly, the motion compounding the crush of the roller into your pelvis. You curse and tip your head back onto his shoulder, wrapping a hand behind you to hook around his neck.

“Give it to me, Ben….” you goadingly murmur. 

Then it's just the most delicious sensation, his thrusts against your bottom, driving your clit to drag over the roller wedged between your legs. A closed loop of sensation you both don't want to end, his hips snapping a little more forceful with every thrust, the string of his waistband tickling the flash of exposed skin on your lower back.

“I fucking love how untamed you are,” he rumbles into your ear as you grasp onto his closed fist, your nails sinking into his knuckles.

“All your fault…” you banter, craning your neck to look back at him. “If you aren't actually fucking me, I'm thinking about your fucking me…” The heated confession tumbles from your lips as you build towards something electric.

His eyes flash in that hypnotic way, and he redoubles his efforts, caging around you, holding you down, frottaging into you in a way that jerks your whole body. The delicious outline of his cock searing against your tailbone. One of his strong hands slides up from your hip and winds under the hem of your cropped t-shirt, growling as he realises you are braless, nipples pebbling as he flicks his thumbnail against one.

He mutters words of encouragement as you start to go faster, aiding and abetting him, the pinch of his fingers around your nipple a beeline right to your core. Part of you wants him to rip off all the clothes you both wear and split you open with his cock; part of you wants just this, the heady delight of something proximate but not quite there. The beguiling fantasy of innocence where penetrative sex is taboo, both learning from each other and doing things you likely shouldn’t be.

You plead for him not to stop, hovering closer with each stroke you take together, moving in sync, little grunts from the effort, damp skin from the prolonged undulation. He clamps both of his hands back around your hips and pushes you down onto the roller hard, just what you need, your breath catching in your throat. Sensing he is as close as you, you turn your head to the side, burying your nose into his jaw and panting filthy things you want from him, knowing it will rocket him just as fast, his movements becoming erratic but vigorous.

He senses you are skating the edge and twists to bite your neck, just a light hold, but it's enough to send you flying. Wracking moans as you crest that wave, every sound dulled behind the rush of blood in your head and the tingle radiating out from your core to every cell. Your cunt fluttering around nothing, wishing it were gripping onto his cock as you feel him take two more rough thrusts, then still, his groans a staccato as he peaks too, a shudder you feel against your bum as his cock convulses inside his sweatpants.

He slumps onto your back, pressing you wholly into the sofa cushion, a weight that feels wonderful, pinning you in place as you both huff for breaths, coming back down from your highs.

“Well, that was sublime… But now I need yet another shower,” he remarks wryly, and that has you giggling under him. “Care to join me?”

There was only ever going to be one answer.

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