#he just wants to keep you connected and needs the grounding touch you offer
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yassbishimvintage · 2 days ago
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Trick'n (Studio pt 2)
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Warnings: Fluff, Smut
A/N: This is for the grown and sexy. Enjoy.
Word Count: 10.1k
Banner by @cafekitsune
Amari sits in her townhouse, her thoughts swirling as she absentmindedly stirs her drink. The past few days feel like a blur of emotions, decisions, and moments that are slowly becoming more complicated. She glances around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings of her space—the soft glow of the lights, the calm of the evening settling in. Yet, her mind keeps drifting back to Brendan and everything that’s unfolded between them.
The gift of the G-Wagon, the lingering moments of closeness, the kiss... it all feels like more than just a casual connection. She never imagined things would move so fast, especially when they had so much unspoken tension hanging between them. She thought she could keep things light, professional even, but now? It’s hard to ignore the pull between them.
She can’t help but smile at the memory of his easy grin when he handed her the key, his confidence and sincerity almost disarming. But with every action, with every gesture, she starts questioning where this all leads. He’s given her so much—more than she expected, more than she’s ready for. A part of her feels overwhelmed, another part feels grateful, and yet another part wonders if this is really what she wants.
Amari stands up and moves to the window, staring out at the quiet street. It’s a calm night, the city lights twinkling in the distance. She takes a deep breath, trying to clear her mind, but her thoughts are stubborn, always returning to Brendan. The way he looks at her, the way his touch feels, it’s undeniable. But does that mean she’s ready for more? Is she ready for the messier, deeper side of what they’re starting to build?
She turns back toward her couch, her eyes falling on the key sitting on the coffee table. It’s a symbol of his intentions—he’s not just giving her a car, he’s giving her something bigger, something more meaningful. It’s easy to feel torn when someone offers you everything, and yet, it feels like there’s so much she hasn’t figured out yet.
Her phone buzzes on the table, pulling her out of her thoughts. It’s a message from him: "Hope you’re good. Just wanted to check in."
Amari sighs, running a hand through her hair. She knows what she wants to say, but there’s a hesitation. What exactly does she want from this? What does she need? She could respond, keep it light, or she could dive deeper into what’s between them. It’s a choice she’s going to have to make sooner or later.
With another deep breath, she picks up her phone and starts typing.
The truth was, she had no idea where things were headed with Brendan. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized one thing: she couldn’t ignore the chemistry between them. She couldn’t pretend that his presence in her life didn’t make everything feel just a little bit more alive. But, she knew it was going to be a balancing act—between who she was, who he was, and the world they both occupied.
She glanced at her phone again. Another message from him popped up: "You still thinking about things? Or can I convince you to join me for dinner?"
She hesitated for a moment before typing back: "I’ll be there. But we need to talk."
She hit send, already knowing the conversation ahead wouldn’t be easy, but it was necessary.
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Amari stood outside the door to Brendan’s penthouse, a mix of anticipation and apprehension settling in her chest. She had been thinking about this conversation for hours, replaying her pros and cons list, trying to decide how best to approach the situation. One thing was clear—she wasn’t walking into this blindly. She wasn’t just some fleeting moment in his life. But as much as she wanted to hold her ground, there was a part of her that still yearned for the connection they had.
She took a deep breath and knocked.
The door swung open, revealing Brendan standing shirtless in the doorway, his toned frame illuminated by the soft light of the apartment. He flashed that easy, confident smile that always made her heart skip a beat. In his hands was a plate of food, and the rich aroma of the meal hit her instantly.
“Hey, Mari,” he greeted her, stepping aside to let her in. “Dinner’s ready. Hope you’re hungry.”
Amari stepped inside, the warmth of the room wrapping around her. She noticed the dim lights, the table set with candles, and the relaxed vibe of the space. Despite his casual appearance—shirtless, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips—there was a certain charm to his laid-back demeanor.
She smiled weakly, but her mind was still on the conversation she needed to have. “You didn’t have to go all out,” she said, trying to keep her tone light, even though her heart was heavy with the weight of their unspoken issues.
He gave her a knowing look, his eyes soft but mischievous. “I didn’t think you’d mind,” he said as he moved to place the plate down on the coffee table. “Come on, let’s eat.”
Amari took a seat, her fingers brushing the edge of the plate before she glanced up at him. “We need to talk about us, Brendan.”
He paused, looking at her with an intensity that told her he was listening. His lips curled slightly, but there was something behind his expression—curiosity, concern, maybe even a hint of apprehension. He sat beside her, the space between them charged with tension. “Alright,” he said, his voice steady. “What’s on your mind?”
Amari took a deep breath, collecting her thoughts before speaking. “I’ve been thinking about everything. About us. About what we’re doing. I can’t pretend like things are just simple, like I’m not getting emotionally involved in something that feels... bigger than I expected.”
Brendan shifted slightly, leaning back as he gave her his full attention. “You’re not wrong. This thing between us—” He trailed off, seemingly weighing his words carefully. “I get it. It’s not just some fling for me either.”
She frowned, her gaze searching his face. “Then why does it feel like we’re both just caught up in something we don’t fully understand? Like you’re living this life that I’m not sure I’m ready for... or even if I can handle.”
Brendan’s expression softened, and he gently took her hand in his, his thumb brushing against her skin. “Mari, I get it. I know what I’m offering isn’t always... stable. My career, my life, it’s a rollercoaster, and I can’t promise that everything’s going to be perfect. But I’m not asking you to be a part of some mess. I just want you in my life. I want you with me. The rest, we can figure out.”
She looked down at their hands, her heart pounding in her chest. His words were sincere, but there was still so much uncertainty. She had questions that she needed answers to. “What happens when things get harder? When your schedule is even more chaotic? When the attention on you gets more intense? What happens when we can’t just turn everything off and pretend like we’re just two people having a good time?”
Brendan paused, the weight of her questions settling in the room. His voice was quieter when he spoke, but it held a sense of honesty that she couldn’t ignore. “I can’t promise that everything will be easy, Mari. But I can promise I won’t just walk away when it gets tough. You and me—we have something real. It might not be the easiest thing, but I want to try. Do you?”
She didn’t answer immediately. Instead, she looked into his eyes, searching for the truth behind his words. What they had was undeniable—intense, passionate, and full of potential. But could she trust herself to navigate the complexity of their connection? Could she handle being in his world, knowing that it would never be simple?
Finally, she spoke, her voice soft but firm. “I’m willing to try. But I need to know you’re all in. That this isn’t just some phase, that you’re not going to disappear when things get difficult.”
Brendan nodded, his grip on her hand tightening just slightly. “I’m in, Mari. I’m all in. And I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it.”
The tension between them seemed to ease, the air feeling lighter as they both sat there, surrounded by the quiet hum of the apartment. The future was still uncertain, but for the first time in a long while, Amari felt like she had a clearer sense of where she stood.
With a small, tentative smile, she finally said, “Alright. Let’s figure this out together.”
Brendan smiled back, his relief palpable. “Together.”
As Amari smiled, her gaze met Brendan’s, and for a moment, it felt like time had slowed. His hazel eyes, warm and intense, seemed to search her face, as if he were looking for something—reassurance, perhaps, or confirmation that she truly meant what she had said. She could see the sincerity in his expression, the vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored her own.
The way he looked at her made her feel seen—really seen—in a way that was both comforting and terrifying. It was like he could read her thoughts, understand the conflict in her mind without her saying a word. For a brief moment, the weight of everything they’d talked about seemed to lift, replaced by something softer, something more genuine.
She swallowed the knot in her throat, her heart fluttering as she reached out and gently touched his arm. The warmth of his skin under her fingertips sent a spark through her, grounding her in the present.
“I don’t know where this will go,” she said, her voice quiet but steady. “But I want to try. To see where it takes us.”
Brendan’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, brushing his lips against her forehead in a tender kiss. “That’s all I need to hear, Mari.”
His kiss lingered for a moment longer, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to bask in the comfort of his touch. In that instant, everything else—the confusion, the uncertainty—seemed to fade away, leaving only the connection they had built together.
She pulled back slightly, looking up at him with a mix of playfulness and vulnerability. “So, are we going to eat, or are we just going to stare at each other all night?” she teased, trying to lighten the mood, though her heart still raced in her chest.
Brendan chuckled, the sound low and warm, before reaching for the plate of food on the table. “We can stare at each other later,” he said, his voice teasing but affectionate. “Let’s eat first. Then we can figure out the rest.”
Amari smiled, her anxiety eased for the moment, as she settled back into the couch, feeling a sense of peace she hadn’t expected. She was here, with him, ready to take the next step—whatever that might be. And for now, that was enough.
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Later, as the evening settled into a quiet rhythm, Amari found herself sprawled out across Brendan’s chest, her head resting comfortably against him. The faint beat of his heart thumped softly under her ear, a reassuring sound that calmed her racing thoughts. The apartment was dimly lit, with only the soft glow from the city lights filtering in through the windows, casting shadows across the room.
Brendan’s arm was draped around her, his fingers lightly tracing patterns on her back, his touch slow and deliberate. It felt like the world outside was fading away, leaving only the two of them in this intimate, peaceful bubble.
She took a deep breath, breathing in the scent of his skin, the faint cologne he wore mixed with the smell of the food they’d shared earlier. The closeness, the softness of his touch, it made her feel both grounded and vulnerable in ways she hadn’t anticipated. She knew they had just begun to scratch the surface of whatever this was, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was more than just a fling.
Amari tilted her head to look up at him, catching his gaze. His hazel eyes were soft, almost sleepy, but there was something more—something unspoken between them that seemed to hang in the air.
“You know,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “I never really thought about what I wanted in all this... I was too focused on the fact that I shouldn’t want it.”
Brendan’s gaze softened, his hand gently running through her hair. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice low and soothing.
Amari hesitated, her fingers playing with the hem of his shirt. “I mean, I spent so much time convincing myself that I should stay away from someone like you... That it would just be a mess. But now… I’m not so sure anymore.”
Brendan’s fingers stilled on her back, but his expression didn’t change. “And now?” he asked, his tone patient, as if waiting for her to find the words.
She looked up at him, her heart hammering in her chest. "Now, I think... I think I might be ready to stop running from it. From us." Her voice trembled slightly, but there was a quiet confidence behind her words. "I’m not saying it’ll be easy. I’m not saying I won’t second-guess myself at times. But maybe it’s time I stopped overthinking it.”
A soft smile tugged at Brendan’s lips as he leaned down, brushing his lips against her forehead. “I’m glad to hear that,” he said quietly. “Because I’m not going anywhere, Mari. I’m here. And I’ll be here when things get complicated, when the world starts pushing against us.”
Amari closed her eyes, his words sinking in, and for the first time in a long while, she felt a sense of certainty. Despite the chaos that life would inevitably throw their way, she knew she wasn’t alone in it anymore. They had something, and it was enough for now.
Brendan’s hand continued to run through her hair, his touch gentle, comforting. “Let’s just take this one step at a time,” he murmured. “We’ve got time, Mari. We’ve got time.”
She nodded against his chest, the warmth of his embrace wrapping around her like a shield. There was still so much they didn’t know, so much uncertainty in the future. But for tonight, as she lay there in his arms, everything felt exactly where it needed to be.
Amari shifted slightly, her movements slow and deliberate as she adjusted herself, now straddling Brendan. The change in position brought them even closer, her knees resting on either side of his hips. She could feel the warmth of his body beneath her, the steady rise and fall of his chest with each breath.
Brendan looked up at her, a mix of surprise and something deeper flickering in his hazel eyes. His hands instinctively moved to rest on her hips, a touch that was both grounding and possessive. There was a quiet tension in the air now, a shift in energy that pulsed between them.
Amari paused, her gaze meeting his, searching for something—confirmation, perhaps, or a sense of clarity. She was still feeling the weight of their conversation, the admission of vulnerability that had passed between them, but there was something undeniable about the chemistry that sparked whenever they were this close.
“You sure about this?” Brendan’s voice was low, almost a whisper, his hands gently brushing against her skin. His eyes held a mixture of curiosity and care, making sure she wasn’t just acting on impulse.
She nodded slowly, the quiet confidence she’d felt earlier now solidifying in her chest. “Yeah,” she whispered back, her voice thick with intent. “I’m sure.”
Without waiting for further confirmation, she leaned down, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that was gentle at first, as if testing the waters. But as they both deepened the kiss, the tension from earlier seemed to dissolve, replaced by a sense of urgency, a shared understanding that neither of them wanted to pull away just yet.
Her hands roamed to his chest, feeling the muscles beneath his skin, and his fingers tightened around her waist, guiding her movements. The energy between them shifted again—this time, it was as though the world outside had disappeared entirely, leaving only the two of them in this charged space.
She pulled back just slightly, her lips brushing against his, a soft exhale escaping her as she whispered, “I don’t want to hold back anymore, B.”
Brendan’s gaze darkened slightly, his breath shaky as he nodded, his hands running up her back, pulling her closer. “Then don’t,” he murmured, his lips capturing hers once more, this time with more intensity, more hunger.
The air between them grew thick with desire, each touch, each kiss, an exploration of unspoken emotions, a bridge between uncertainty and something real—something they both knew they couldn’t ignore.
Brendan’s expression softened at Amari’s words, the weight of her trust settling over him like a heavy, but welcome, responsibility. His hands gently cupped her face, his thumb brushing over her cheek as he met her gaze. There was no rush in the way he looked at her, just a quiet understanding and respect.
“I don’t take that lightly,” he said softly, his voice low but full of sincerity. “You mean more to me than you realize, Mari. I won’t do anything you don’t want, and I’ll make sure you’re comfortable with every step.”
Amari could feel the warmth of his words, the reassurance in the way he held her. In that moment, she realized that this wasn’t just about the physical. It was about connection, about trust, about the depth of what they were starting to build together.
She nodded, her heart steadying as she smiled down at him. “I know. I’m not afraid with you.”
Brendan smiled back, his hand moving to the small of her back to pull her in closer. “Good,” he whispered, brushing his lips against hers once more, as if sealing the promise they had just made. There was a mutual understanding now—this wasn’t just about the moment, but about the trust they were giving each other, the respect they would continue to show.
They were both learning and growing in this, but for now, all that mattered was the quiet connection they shared, the honesty of the moment, and the warmth of knowing they were both choosing to take this next step together.
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As Amari smiled, the soft warmth of the morning light still casting its glow across the room, she shifted, leaning into Brendan’s chest. He stirred slightly at the motion, but didn’t fully wake, his arm instinctively pulling her closer as she nestled herself under him. She felt safe and content, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat soothing in the quiet morning.
She closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the feeling of being wrapped in his arms, the connection they shared growing deeper with each passing day. There was a sense of calm between them, a peaceful reassurance that even though the world outside could be chaotic, here, in this space, they were just two people learning to trust and understand each other.
Brendan shifted slightly, his voice low and groggy as he mumbled, “You good?”
Amari smiled, her fingers lightly tracing the tattoos on his arm as she nodded, her body still relaxed against his. “Yeah,” she whispered, her voice soft. “I’m good. Better than good.”
He hummed in response, tightening his embrace, his lips pressing gently to her forehead in a silent gesture of affection. For a moment, there were no words, just the comfort of shared presence, both of them content to stay like this a little longer, wrapped in each other’s warmth.
It wasn’t just the emotional connection that made her smile—it was the understanding that they were building something real, something that went beyond the surface. And in that moment, with the quiet of the morning surrounding them, she felt more certain than ever that this was exactly where she was meant to be.
Amari watched as Brendan moved around the room, his energy a stark contrast to the stillness of the morning. She smiled softly, her eyes following the way his muscles flexed as he searched through his drawers. There was something about the way he carried himself, effortlessly confident yet grounded, that drew her in even more.
She wrapped the covers around her waist tighter, feeling the warmth of the fabric against her skin as she sat up in bed. Her thoughts lingered on the moments they’d shared last night, and the quiet morning they were now experiencing together. It felt surreal in the best way—like they were in a bubble that no one could touch.
Brendan glanced over his shoulder at her, catching her watching him. His lips curled into a playful grin, and he shrugged casually. “You look comfy there,” he said, his voice teasing but soft.
Amari couldn’t help but laugh softly, the sound light and carefree. “I was just enjoying the view,” she replied, her gaze lingering on him, unabashedly appreciating how relaxed he seemed.
He chuckled, his eyes warming as he returned to his search. “I’m looking for my wallet,” he explained, pulling open another drawer.
Amari leaned back against the headboard, feeling a contentedness she hadn’t experienced in a while. She hadn’t expected to wake up like this, not so peaceful, not so sure about what came next. But as Brendan moved around the room, she realized that things didn’t always have to be figured out right away. They could just exist in the moment, and that was enough for now.
When he finally found what he was looking for, he turned back to her, a slight smirk playing on his lips. “You sure you don’t want to get dressed before I take you out for breakfast?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed the way the covers pooled around her.
Amari rolled her eyes playfully. “Only if you’re paying,” she teased, her tone light.
Brendan grinned, his eyes softening. “Of course. Just don’t take too long,” he said, as he began to head for the door. “I’m starving.”
As he left the room, Amari leaned back, still feeling the warmth of his presence lingering in the air. There was something effortlessly comfortable about him, and for the first time in a while, she felt like maybe—just maybe—things were falling into place.
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Brendan paused, a grin tugging at the corner of his lips as he looked at her. His gaze softened as he settled in closer, but there was a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Mushy?” he repeated, his voice low, teasing. “I’m just trying to show you how much I appreciate you, Mari.”
Amari raised an eyebrow, her smile widening as she pushed him playfully off of her. “Uh-huh. Appreciation, huh?” she said, rolling her eyes but still laughing lightly. “You don’t get to just turn it on and off like that, B. I already told you. We’re not doing this whole push-and-pull thing.”
Brendan chuckled, his eyes never leaving hers. He sat back, taking a moment to adjust himself, his playful expression melting into something more genuine. “Alright, alright,” he said, his tone softer. “I hear you. No more trying to be all sweet and cuddly if it’s gonna make you roll your eyes at me.”
She smiled, her arms crossing over her chest, but there was a certain softness in her gaze that wasn’t lost on him. “You’re not bad when you’re not being all dramatic,” she teased, nudging him with her shoulder.
“Hey,” he said, feigning offense. “I’m not dramatic. I’m just—” He cut himself off, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “—just trying to be here with you. And, yeah, maybe it’s a little different for me. But I can’t help it.”
Amari's expression softened at his words, and for a brief moment, the playful teasing gave way to something deeper. She could see the sincerity in his eyes, the vulnerability that he was letting slip through, even if he wasn’t always great at showing it.
“You don’t have to try so hard, B,” she said quietly, reaching up to touch his face. “You’ve got me already.”
The room fell into a brief silence, the air between them filled with unspoken understanding. There were no walls up now—just the two of them, navigating this complicated thing they were building together. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t easy, but it felt real. And for now, that was enough.
As Amari kissed him, her hands slid to the back of his neck, pulling him closer, a quiet yet powerful shift in the energy between them. The playful teasing melted into something more tender, more grounded, as their lips met with a deeper connection than before.
Brendan responded instinctively, his arms wrapping around her waist as he leaned into the kiss, his chest pressing against hers. There was no rush, no urgency—just the softness of the moment, both of them savoring the intimacy, feeling the warmth of each other's presence.
When they finally broke the kiss, their foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the quiet space between them. Amari smiled, her fingers gently tracing his jawline as she met his gaze. "You know, you're not so bad when you're not being all dramatic," she teased softly, her voice laced with affection.
Brendan let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing a strand of hair from her face. "I guess you’ve got me figured out, huh?" he replied, his tone light but his eyes filled with sincerity.
Amari shrugged, still smiling. "Not fully," she said with a playful gleam in her eye, "but I’m working on it." She leaned in for another soft kiss, this time lingering just a little longer, letting the kiss speak for everything they hadn’t said out loud.
It was moments like this that reminded her—there was something real here, something that didn’t need to be defined right away. She wasn’t sure where things were going, but for now, she was okay with letting them unfold naturally.
“Now I can say the Mid Sized Sedan is my boyfriend.” She says holding back a laugh. He gives her a fake hurt look. 
Amari laughed, a soft sound that bubbled from her chest. "Well, you’ve got all the features—good looks, reliability, and the ability to keep up with me when I need you to." She leaned in, pressing a light kiss to his lips. "Plus, you’re surprisingly comfortable."
Brendan chuckled, his arms tightening around her in a playful yet affectionate gesture. "You’re lucky I like the nickname," he said, his voice teasing but with a warmth that matched the softness in his eyes. "But if you keep calling me that, I might have to start charging you for the ride."
She rolled her eyes, but her smile didn’t fade. "You’re ridiculous," she teased, though there was an undeniable affection in her voice. "But you’re my ridiculous boyfriend, so I guess I’ll let it slide."
Brendan kissed her forehead, his hand gently brushing through her hair as he relaxed back into the bed. "I guess that makes two of us, then," he said quietly, his tone softening as he spoke the words he hadn’t quite expected to say, but found himself feeling anyway.
Amari looked at him, her heart fluttering at the thought of how naturally everything was falling into place. It didn’t matter what nickname he carried or what complications came along with their relationship. In this moment, it was just the two of them, and that was enough.
"Yeah," she murmured, leaning in closer. "It does."
Brendan chuckled softly, pulling her a little closer before letting her go with a playful smile. "Alright, alright. Go get your shower, Mari. I know I’m irresistible, but even I can't compete with a hot shower and some fresh clothes."
Amari rolled her eyes but smiled as she slid out of bed, the warmth of their moment still lingering in the air. "You’re lucky you’ve got that charm," she said, tossing him a teasing glance over her shoulder as she walked toward the bathroom. "Or you’d be getting the cold shoulder right about now."
Brendan laughed, his eyes following her as she disappeared into the bathroom. He stretched back onto the bed, his mind still lingering on their earlier conversation and the shift in their relationship. It felt different now—more real, more grounded. They weren’t just having fun or living in the moment anymore; they were finding something deeper between them.
He shook his head with a smile. "Cold shoulder? Yeah, right."
As the sound of the shower started, Brendan lay back, his thoughts drifting to the future and what it might hold for him and Amari. Whatever happened, he was starting to feel like he was ready for whatever was next.
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A few days later she’s missing him. 
Amari sat on her couch, her legs tucked beneath her, absentmindedly scrolling through her phone. The TV was on in the background, playing a show she wasn’t really watching. Brendan was out of town for a shoot, and for the first time in weeks, she had a quiet evening to herself.
But her mind wasn’t quiet.
She couldn’t stop thinking about him. Specifically, about how they hadn’t crossed that line yet. She was surprised. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to—hell, she wanted to. Brendan wasn’t shy about his feelings either. The way he looked at her, touched her, kissed her—it was clear he was just as ready. Yet, somehow, they hadn’t gone there.
Her phone buzzed, breaking her thoughts. It was a text from him.
Brendan: Hey, you miss me yet?
She smiled, biting her bottom lip as she typed back.
Amari: Maybe. Why? You miss me?
The dots appeared, then stopped, then started again. Typical Brendan, always taking his time with the perfect response.
Brendan: Of course I miss you. Who else is going to keep me humble?
She laughed, shaking her head. He always knew how to lighten the mood, even from miles away. Still, her thoughts lingered on their relationship. They’d been dancing around the idea of taking things further, but something—maybe timing, maybe hesitation—always seemed to hold them back.
Why hadn’t they done it yet? Was he waiting for the right moment? Or was he afraid of messing up what they already had?
She sighed, setting her phone on the coffee table. The truth was, she liked what they had now, but she also couldn’t deny that the thought of being with him in every way sent a thrill down her spine. Maybe it was just a matter of time.
Her phone buzzed again.
Brendan: Be honest. You’re thinking about me right now, aren’t you?
Amari smirked, shaking her head as she typed her reply.
Amari: What makes you so sure?
His response came almost immediately.
Brendan: Because I’m thinking about you.
Her heart skipped a beat, and for a moment, she wondered if tonight would be the night they finally had that conversation. Even if he was out of town, it felt like they were closer than ever.
Amari stared at her phone, her thumb hovering over the screen as a smile played on her lips. Her heart was racing, the thought of finally addressing the unspoken topic between them both exciting and terrifying. She wanted to ask the question, but what if it made things weird?
Still, the way Brendan had been so open lately, his texts filled with warmth and teasing affection, gave her the courage she needed.
Amari: Can I ask you something?
She hit send before she could change her mind. The three dots appeared almost immediately.
Brendan: You can ask me anything, Mari. What’s on your mind?
She bit her bottom lip, staring at his words. Taking a deep breath, she typed out her response.
Amari: Why haven’t we, you know… done it yet?
She hit send, then immediately tossed her phone onto the couch as if it might explode. The seconds that passed felt like an eternity, and she almost regretted asking. But then her phone buzzed.
Brendan: You mean why haven’t we had sex yet?
Amari felt her cheeks heat up. Of course, he’d just say it outright.
Amari: Yeah. I guess I was just wondering if there’s a reason. Or if you’re waiting for something.
This time, the dots took longer to appear, and she held her breath, anxiously waiting for his reply.
Brendan: Honestly? I’ve thought about it. A lot. But I didn’t want to rush you. I know what we have is special, and I didn’t want to mess it up by moving too fast.
Her chest tightened at his words. Brendan wasn’t just some guy who was looking for the next thrill—he really cared about her.
Amari: I appreciate that. But you know, I’m not holding back because I don’t want to. I think I’ve just been waiting for the right moment too.
There was a pause before his next message came through.
Brendan: Maybe when I’m back, we stop waiting and just see where the moment takes us.
She smiled, her heart fluttering as she typed her response.
Amari: I’d like that.
For the first time that night, Amari felt at ease. Whatever happened next, she knew they’d handle it together.
Amari leaned back on the couch, her phone still in her hand as another thought hit her. Before anything else, she’d been Brendan’s hairstylist. It was how this whole thing between them had started—the playful banter, the lingering glances, and eventually, the deeper connection.
She smirked as she typed out a text.
Amari: You could use a retwist, by the way. Just saying.
It didn’t take long for his reply.
Brendan: Wow. I’m out of town for two days, and you’re already throwing shade?
She laughed out loud, shaking her head.
Amari: I’m just saying, B. Don’t forget who keeps you looking this good.
The dots appeared and disappeared before his message came through.
Brendan: How could I forget? You’re the one who has me sitting between your legs every other week.
Her cheeks flushed at the double meaning in his words.
Amari: Careful, or I’ll start charging extra.
Brendan: You already charge me in other ways, remember?
She rolled her eyes, her smile growing. He always knew how to keep the conversation light and playful, even when there was an undertone of seriousness.
Amari: Fine, but when you get back, I’m fixing that mess on your head.
Brendan: Deal. Only if it means I get to see you sooner.
Her heart skipped a beat at his response. She placed her phone on the coffee table, her mind drifting again. No matter how their relationship unfolded, she knew one thing for sure—Brendan always had a way of making her feel seen and wanted, whether it was in his texts or the way he looked at her during those moments in the shop.
It made her excited for whatever was coming next.
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When Brendan finally got back to the city, Amari wasted no time texting him to come over. True to her word, she had her tools ready and a fresh jar of gel waiting.
He walked into her townhouse, his hazel eyes lighting up the moment he saw her. "You ready to fix this mess?" he asked, gesturing to his hair with a grin.
She smirked, rolling her eyes. "You’re lucky I care, B. Sit down."
Brendan dropped onto the floor between her legs like it was second nature, leaning back slightly as she started sectioning his hair. Her hands worked expertly, parting and twisting with precision. The familiar intimacy of the moment settled between them as they talked about his trip, her latest clients, and everything in between.
“Feels good to be home,” Brendan murmured, his voice soft and content.
She smiled, finishing one twist and moving to the next. “Feels good to have you back. You were starting to look wild out there.”
He chuckled, tilting his head to give her better access. “That wild look got me some compliments, though.”
Amari laughed, playfully tugging at one of the twists she’d just finished. “Yeah, well, those people clearly don’t know quality when they see it. Now hold still.”
The minutes passed in comfortable silence, broken only by the occasional hum of approval from Brendan as she worked. When she was done, she leaned back, admiring her handiwork.
“There. You’re human again,” she teased, brushing stray hair off his shoulders.
Brendan turned slightly, his hazel eyes meeting hers. “You always know how to take care of me, Mari.”
Before she could respond, his hands found her thighs, gently rubbing them as he stayed seated on the floor. His touch was slow and deliberate, his thumbs pressing into her skin in a way that made her breath hitch.
“B…” she started, but her voice trailed off as his hands slid a little higher, his gaze never leaving hers.
“You good?” he asked softly, his tone laced with a quiet intensity that sent a shiver down her spine.
She swallowed, nodding. “Yeah. I’m good.”
“Good,” he said, leaning forward slightly. His hands stayed on her thighs, his touch both grounding and electrifying as he closed the small distance between them.
Neither of them moved to get up. The moment stretched on, heavy with unspoken words and unrestrained tension, until Amari finally gave in, leaning down to kiss him. Whatever came next, they both knew they were exactly where they wanted to be.
Amari tried to stay composed, but Brendan’s hands were doing things to her she couldn’t ignore. His thumbs rubbed slow, teasing circles into her thighs, and every time his hazel eyes flicked up to meet hers, it sent a jolt of heat through her.
She shifted in her seat, trying to focus on anything else, but the way he stayed on the floor, his strong frame relaxed between her legs, made it impossible to think straight.
"B…" she whispered, her voice shaky.
His gaze didn’t waver. “What’s wrong, Mari?”
She inhaled deeply, trying to steady herself, but it was no use. The warmth of his hands, the way his thumbs crept a little higher each time—it was all too much. "I can’t…"
"You can’t what?" he asked, his tone soft, almost teasing.
She bit her lip, her restraint dissolving with every passing second. “I can’t take it anymore,” she finally admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.
Brendan’s lips curled into a slow, knowing smile. “Then don’t,” he said simply, his voice low and inviting.
That was all it took. Amari leaned forward, her hands finding his face as she kissed him with a desperation she couldn’t hold back anymore. He responded instantly, his hands gripping her thighs tighter as he pulled her closer.
She slid off the chair and onto the floor, straddling him as the kiss deepened. Brendan’s hands moved to her waist, anchoring her to him as her fingers tangled in his freshly retwisted hair.
“I knew this would happen,” he murmured against her lips, his voice husky.
“Shut up,” she replied breathlessly, pulling him closer as the last of her self-control slipped away.
The living room disappeared around them as they gave in to the moment, the tension that had been simmering for weeks finally boiling over. Neither of them cared about what came next—right now, all that mattered was each other.
Brendan’s hands slid up her sides, taking her shirt with them. When he lifted it over her head and tossed it aside, he froze for a moment, his hazel eyes taking in the sight of her. She was wearing a black lace bra—the one he’d mentioned was his favorite before.
He ran his fingers along the delicate material, a small, appreciative smile forming on his lips. “You knew I’d like this, didn’t you?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.
Amari’s cheeks flushed, but she smirked back at him. “Maybe. Or maybe it was just laundry day.”
He laughed softly, his hands traveling to her back, tracing lazy circles along her skin. “I don’t believe that for a second.”
His lips found her collarbone, pressing soft kisses along the curve of her neck and shoulder as his hands explored the familiar contours of her body. Every touch, every kiss, sent shivers down her spine.
“You’re so damn beautiful, Mari,” he whispered against her skin.
She tipped her head back, her fingers digging into his shoulders as he moved lower, his lips brushing along the edge of the lace. The way he touched her, like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, made her heart race.
“Brendan…” she breathed, her voice trembling with need.
He looked up at her then, his eyes smoldering with a mix of affection and desire. “Tell me what you want,” he said softly, his hands resting on her hips, grounding her.
“You,” she whispered without hesitation, her hands tangling in his hair. “Always you.”
His smile widened as he pulled her closer, sealing her words with a kiss that left no room for doubt.
Brendan smirked, his hands gripping her hips a little tighter as he kissed the sensitive spot on her neck. “You sure about that?” he teased, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through her.
Amari tilted her head back further, her body arching into him. “Yes,” she said, her voice breathy but firm. “Fuck this foreplay, B. I need you. Now.”
His smirk turned into a grin as he looked up at her, his hazel eyes dark with desire. “Well, if that’s what you want…” he murmured.
Without another word, he stood up, taking her with him as if she weighed nothing. Amari wrapped her legs around his waist, her fingers clutching his shoulders as he carried her effortlessly toward the bedroom.
“Brendan—” she started, but he cut her off with a kiss so deep it stole her breath.
When he reached the bed, he gently laid her down, his body following hers as he hovered over her. “No turning back now,” he said, his voice low and serious, though the corner of his mouth quirked up in a teasing smile.
She reached up, pulling him down to her. “I wasn’t planning to.”
Their bodies moved together, the tension that had been building between them for so long finally snapping as they gave in to everything they’d been holding back. Time seemed to stop as the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them in the heat of the moment. Moans and skin slapping was all that filled the room. 
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Amari blinked awake, her body still deliciously sore from the night before. The sunlight streaming through the blinds made her squint as she adjusted to being awake. She shifted slightly, realizing she was sprawled out in her bed, her covers barely clinging to her.
Turning her head, she saw Brendan sitting on the edge of the bed, already dressed in his boxers and one of his favorite hoodies. His broad back was to her as he tapped away on his phone.
"Morning," she murmured, her voice still heavy with sleep.
He glanced back over his shoulder, his hazel eyes softening when they met hers. “Morning, beautiful,” he replied with a small smile.
She stretched lazily, her body still buzzing with the remnants of last night. “What are you doing?”
“Texting my manager,” he said, holding up his phone briefly before turning his attention back to the screen. “She’s asking about studio time later today.”
Amari sighed, propping herself up on one elbow. “You’re already working?”
He chuckled and set his phone down for a moment, turning to face her. “Gotta stay on my grind, Mari. You know how it is.”
She reached out, tugging playfully at the hem of his hoodie. “Yeah, but can’t your grind wait for breakfast in bed? Or… you know, round two?”
Brendan’s grin widened, and he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “As tempting as that is, I gotta handle this first. But don’t worry,” he added, his voice lowering as he kissed her again, this time on the lips. “I’ll make time for you.”
Her heart fluttered at his words, and she smiled against his mouth. “You better.”
He pulled back, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Always.”
As Brendan stood up, preparing to grab his jeans from the nearby chair, Amari reached out, her fingers slipping into the waistband of his boxers. She tugged gently, a sly smile spreading across her face as she leaned back against the pillows.
“Leaving already?” she teased, her voice soft but playful.
He paused, glancing down at her with an amused smirk. “I told you, Mari, I gotta handle this,” he said, though he didn’t make a move to step away from her touch.
She tilted her head, her eyes sparkling mischievously. “You’re really going to leave me here like this? After last night?” Her fingers trailed along the edge of the waistband, sending a shiver up his spine.
Brendan let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “You’re trouble, you know that?”
She grinned, tugging at the waistband a little more insistently. “Maybe. But you like it.”
He leaned over her, bracing his hands on either side of her body as he met her gaze. “You’re making it real hard to leave right now.”
“That’s the point,” she said, her voice dropping into a whisper as her fingers toyed with the fabric.
For a moment, he hovered there, torn between his responsibilities and the undeniable pull of her presence. Finally, he let out a resigned sigh and kissed her deeply, his hands sliding to her waist.
“Fine,” he murmured against her lips, “but only for a few more minutes.”
Amari laughed softly, wrapping her arms around his neck as she pulled him closer. “That’s all I need.”
As Brendan finally left with a lingering kiss and a promise to call her later, Amari flopped back onto the bed, staring at the ceiling. She let out a long sigh, the faint scent of his cologne still clinging to her sheets.
For a moment, she stayed there, basking in the afterglow of his presence and the memory of the night before. But reality crept back in. Her phone buzzed on the nightstand, reminding her of the packed schedule ahead.
With a groan, she dragged herself out of bed, stretching as she made her way to the bathroom. “Alright, Amari,” she muttered to herself, splashing water on her face. “Time to get it together. You’ve got clients waiting.”
After a quick shower, she threw on her go-to stylist outfit—something comfortable yet chic—and tied her braids up into a neat bun. As she gathered her tools and checked her appointment book, her mind kept drifting back to Brendan.
She shook her head, smiling to herself. “Focus, girl,” she whispered. “You’ve got work to do.”
By the time she walked into her salon, the familiar hum of chatter and the smell of hair products snapped her back into her professional zone. Her first client was already waiting, scrolling on her phone.
“Hey, Mari!” the client greeted, looking up. “Ready to work your magic?”
Amari smiled warmly, setting her tools on the counter. “Always,” she replied, pushing thoughts of Brendan to the back of her mind—for now.
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During a brief lull between clients, Amari slipped her phone from her pocket. She smiled when she saw it was a text from Brendan.
“Hey, I’ve been thinking about last night… You’re still on my mind.”
Her heart fluttered as she typed a quick reply. “I’m flattered. You’re still on mine too.”
Almost instantly, his response pinged back. “I know you’ve got clients, but when you get a moment, can I see you later?”
Amari bit her lip, considering for a moment. She had a few more appointments, but there was something about him that made her want to say yes without hesitation. She glanced at the clock—she still had some time before her next client arrived.
“I’d like that. Let me wrap up here first, and I’ll text you when I’m free.”
Brendan’s reply came almost immediately. “Looking forward to it. I’ll be waiting.”
Amari smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. As much as she tried to focus on her work, her mind couldn’t help but wander back to Brendan—his smile, the way he made her feel… and what could happen next.
By the time Amari finished her last client of the day, the evening was settling in. She felt a mix of exhaustion and excitement as she quickly tidied up her station and grabbed her bag. A quick glance at her phone revealed a text from Brendan.
“I’m already at the spot, waiting for you. Can’t wait to see you.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She typed back quickly. “Be there in 20.”
After a quick change into a simple yet stylish outfit, Amari made her way to the restaurant. It was a cozy, upscale spot known for its quiet ambiance and excellent food, a place Brendan often chose when he wanted to get away from the chaos of his life.
When she walked through the door, her eyes scanned the room until they landed on him sitting at a corner table, looking effortlessly handsome. His hazel eyes locked with hers, and he stood up with a smile, greeting her as she approached.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said, his voice warm and inviting as he kissed her cheek.
“Hey, you,” she replied, feeling a flutter in her stomach. She slipped into the seat across from him.
Brendan’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, and she noticed a quiet admiration in his eyes. “You look stunning, as always.”
“Thanks,” Amari smiled, settling in. “You clean up well yourself.”
He chuckled, glancing at the menu. “I wanted to make tonight special. So, what’s your vibe? Something light, or are you ready for a feast?”
She laughed softly, glancing at the menu as well. “I’m thinking something hearty tonight. I’ve been craving steak all day.”
Brendan grinned, knowing exactly what she was referring to. “I’ll take that as a challenge. You know I’m a steak guy.”
As they talked over dinner, the conversation flowed easily. It was casual yet filled with moments of genuine connection—laughter, teasing, and quiet glances shared between bites of food. Amari found herself relaxing in a way she hadn’t expected, enjoying the simple act of being with him without any pressure.
When the meal was over, they lingered over drinks, talking about everything and nothing. Brendan seemed at ease, and Amari felt the same way. The connection between them felt deeper now, like a shared understanding and unspoken promise.
“So, what’s next?” Amari asked, her voice softening.
Brendan looked at her, his eyes reflecting something more than just the fun of the evening. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want this night to end just yet.”
She smiled, knowing exactly what he meant. “Neither do I.”
With that, the night began to feel like it was just the beginning of something new, something real.
“You still owe me for round two. But I’ll settle for a make out.” she says.
Brendan grinned, clearly amused by her words. "Oh, so now you're keeping score, huh?" he teased, his fingers gently brushing her arm as he pulled her closer. "Guess I’ll just have to make it up to you tonight."
Amari raised an eyebrow, her playful smirk never faltering. "You better, B. I’m not going to let you off easy after this morning’s… 'round one'."
He chuckled, his hand cupping her cheek as he leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a slow, deliberate kiss. "I’m up for the challenge," he murmured, his voice low and confident.
Amari couldn't help but smile into the kiss, the tension of the morning finally melting away. It was as if all the teasing, all the playful banter, had led them here—right where they both wanted to be.
"Just remember," she said, pulling back just slightly, her eyes sparkling with mischief, "You promised a long night of making up for it. No backing out now."
Brendan leaned in again, his lips finding hers with a renewed intensity. "No backing out," he murmured against her lips. "I plan to keep every promise I make to you, Mari."
And with that, the night stretched out before them, filled with promises, laughter, and the kind of chemistry they both had been craving.
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A few days later she’s standing at his door. She hears Jacquees’ ‘No Questions.’ playing through the door. 
The soft, rhythmic beats of Jacquees' "No Questions" filled the room as Amari and Brendan found themselves nestled together on the couch, the dim lighting of the penthouse casting a warm glow over the space. They were both still feeling the lingering energy of the day—the shoot, the playful chemistry between them, and now, this quiet moment together.
Brendan pulled her closer, his fingers tracing the line of her arm as she leaned into him, her head resting against his shoulder. She could feel the tension of the day melting away, replaced by the soft hum of intimacy.
"You were amazing today," Brendan whispered into her ear, his breath warm against her skin. "The way you just owned that shoot... I couldn’t stop watching you."
Amari smiled, a soft blush creeping across her cheeks. She wasn’t used to this side of Brendan—the way he could be both the intense artist and the caring, attentive man in front of her. But tonight, it was just them, no pressure, no cameras, just the music, and the feeling of being close.
"I love when you say stuff like that," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she shifted to face him. "Makes me feel like I’m really a part of this, you know?"
He cupped her face gently, his thumb brushing along her jawline. "You’re more than a part of this, Mari. You’re everything."
The song played on, its sensual beat matching the quiet, passionate exchange between them. There was no need for words, just the shared understanding that this moment was theirs. As the music swirled around them, Brendan leaned in and kissed her softly, their lips moving in sync with the rhythm of the song. In that moment, nothing else mattered but the connection they shared.
"No questions," he murmured against her lips, the lyrics of the song perfectly echoing their unspoken bond. "Just you and me."
As Amari settled into his lap, her body relaxed, and she closed her eyes, savoring the peace and comfort of the moment. The sound of Jacquees’ smooth voice blended with the soft rhythm of the music, creating the perfect backdrop for their quiet time together. She could feel Brendan’s warmth radiating through her, the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath her as he stroked her hair with a calm tenderness.
For once, there were no distractions, no demands pulling them in different directions. Just the soft glow of the penthouse lights, the hum of the music, and the feeling of being safe and cherished in his presence.
Brendan watched her, his eyes soft as he traced small circles on her arm, lost in the stillness of the moment. He could tell she was content, and that peace between them was something he never wanted to lose.
"You’re perfect like this," he said quietly, almost to himself, as he continued to play with her hair. "So calm, so beautiful... I just want you to always feel this safe."
Amari smiled faintly, her lips curving as she gazed up at him. “I do. I feel like I can be myself with you. No pressure, just... us.”
Brendan’s heart softened at her words, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "That’s all I want, Mari. Just you."
The song played on, and they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s company, neither needing to say anything more. In that moment, they were everything to each other, and it felt like the world could wait.
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Amari rubbed her eyes, groggily sitting up in bed as the sunlight filtered through her curtains. She stretched, then froze when she noticed the delivery outside her door. Curious, she quickly got up and walked over, finding a bouquet of fresh flowers—roses, lilies, and some baby’s breath—arranged beautifully, their vibrant colors almost glowing against the sleek Louis Vuitton box placed next to them.
Her heart skipped a beat as she carefully bent down to pick up the box. It was heavy and well-packaged, sealed with the signature LV logo. She bit her lip, a smile spreading across her face as she wondered what Brendan could have sent her.
She brought the items inside and sat on the couch, the flowers resting on the coffee table beside her. Slowly, she opened the box, revealing a stunning leather bag—an elegant and timeless piece that instantly caught her eye. It was a classic Louis Vuitton Speedy, the rich monogram canvas shining with perfection. Amari’s breath caught in her throat as she ran her fingers over the smooth, luxurious leather handles.
A note was tucked inside the bag, and she unfolded it carefully:
"For my beautiful Mari. I know we’re figuring things out, but I couldn’t help but show you how much you mean to me. I’m thinking of you always. – B"
Her heart warmed as she read the note, the gesture leaving her feeling both cherished and slightly overwhelmed. She had always appreciated his thoughtful side, but this... this was next level. She could feel how much he cared for her in every stitch of that bag, every petal of the flowers.
She smiled to herself, her fingers still tracing the bag’s edge. Her thoughts drifted back to last night, the softness of his words, the comfort of his presence, and how easily everything felt with him.
What are we doing, B? she thought, unsure but excited to see where this connection was leading them. Still, she couldn’t deny how much she loved the attention, the gifts, the thoughtfulness. It felt real, and she felt wanted in a way she hadn’t expected.
As she texted Brendan a quick thank you, she knew she’d have to figure out what all this meant for them, but for now, she could just enjoy the moment and the man who was clearly more than just a passing chapter.
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Amari stood behind her chair in the shop, glancing at the clock as she finished organizing her tools and equipment. It was a quiet morning, the usual hum of the shop barely audible as she prepped for her next client. Brendan had left town for a few days, leaving her to handle her work on her own. She wasn’t exactly complaining—she was used to working solo, but there was a lingering thought in her mind.
After the last few days, the gifts, the intimacy, the way things felt when they were together, it was hard not to wonder what the future held for them. Her mind kept drifting to that note he had written, how he’d thought of her even when they weren’t physically together. It made her feel special, but also uncertain about the space between them. She wasn’t used to feeling this vulnerable. With clients constantly in and out, and the music from the speakers keeping her grounded, it was easy to keep busy and push thoughts aside.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a text from Brendan.
“Just wanted to check in on you. How’s the day going? Miss you.”
She smiled softly at the message, her fingers lingering over the keys as she thought about her reply. She missed him too—more than she had expected. She typed back quickly.
“It’s good. Quiet, but that’s a blessing some days. Miss you too. Can’t wait for you to get back.”
She hit send, leaning back in her chair as she waited for her client to arrive. As she stared at the phone, another thought crossed her mind. What was she really looking for in this? She’d always kept things casual, enjoying the attention and the fun. But with Brendan, it was different.
She let out a soft sigh, mentally shaking off the thoughts. For now, she had to focus on the work in front of her. There would be time to figure things out when the time came.
Tags 🏷️
@nahimjustfeelingit-writes @avoidthings @nayesworld @haechvn @writingsbytee @grlsbstshot @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @megamindsecretlair @notpradagurl7 @kimuzostar @kenshisluvrgirl @planetblaque @pocketsizedpanther @bimbosnbutterflies2026 @chewingmy3xtragum @easybrezzy @blowmymbackout
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aestas---estas · 25 days ago
Text
More quick Ghost thought dumps
So I think we've all accepted the fact that the man is a human furnace. But what about Ghost with a partner that also runs hot?
Late night cuddles under the blankets or falling asleep in each other's arms are, sadly, out of the question. You both get too clammy too fast, and what's supposed to be a sweet and romantic snuggle quickly turns unbearably warm and sweaty. Especially after sex. He's on his back, you on your front, both trying to catch your breaths as you let the cool air from the fan in the corner wash over your sweat slicked bodies. But even in his overheated state, Ghost can't help but touch you — even if it's just having your pinkies interlocked or his foot resting against your shin.
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awkward-walking-potato · 5 months ago
Note
heard you were looking for some ideas for Logan! What about Logan with a significant other that’s basically an oujia board? Like they can talk to dead people, maybe possess people or haunt their dreams? How did they meet Logan, and how did they end up with him, and most importantly what does wade think of their relationship?
I am sorry this one is Longgg
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Between Two Worlds
The Encounter
The bar was dimly lit, the low hum of conversations mixing with the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter. Logan sat at the far end, nursing a whiskey, his gaze distant. He had just finished a mission, and all he wanted was some peace—a rare commodity in his life. The last thing he expected was to meet someone who would change everything.
But then you walked in.
You weren’t like anyone else in the bar. You moved with a calmness that seemed out of place in a place like this, your presence both ethereal and unsettling. Logan noticed the way people gave you a wide berth, as if instinctively sensing something otherworldly about you. You weren’t particularly intimidating, but there was an air of mystery surrounding you—a vibe that made people uncomfortable. But not Logan. He was more intrigued than anything.
You sat down at the bar, a few stools away from him, and ordered a drink. The bartender handed you a glass of something dark, but your eyes weren’t on the drink; they were on Logan.
“You’ve got a lot of ghosts around you,” you said, your voice soft, almost like a whisper.
Logan stiffened slightly. “Do I know you?”
“Not yet,” you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. “But I know you.”
He eyed you warily, sizing you up. “And how’s that?”
You took a sip of your drink, your gaze never leaving his. “I can see them—hear them. The dead. And you, Logan, have a lot of them following you.”
Logan’s grip on his glass tightened, but he didn’t move. He’d seen and heard a lot of strange things in his life, and he wasn’t easily shaken. “You got a name?”
“Y/N,” you said, extending your hand.
He hesitated, then took it. The moment your hands touched, a strange sensation washed over him. It wasn’t pain, but it wasn’t entirely pleasant either—like a cold breeze brushing against his soul. He let go quickly, his eyes narrowing. “What are you?”
You smiled again, but this time it was a little sad. “I’m just someone who can talk to the dead. Sometimes they talk through me, sometimes they use me to do things, but mostly, they just want to be heard.”
Logan took another drink, considering your words. “Sounds like a rough gig.”
“It can be,” you admitted. “But it’s my life. I help them find peace—or vengeance, depending on what they need.”
He respected that. There was something undeniably compelling about you, something that pulled him in despite the warning bells going off in his head. Maybe it was the loneliness he sensed in you, a loneliness that mirrored his own. Whatever it was, Logan couldn’t help but feel a connection to you.
You spent the rest of the evening talking. There was an easy understanding between you, a mutual respect for the darkness in each other’s lives. When the night was over, Logan offered to walk you home, and you accepted. He didn’t know it at the time, but that was the beginning of something neither of you could have predicted.
Weeks turned into months, and what started as a strange, tentative friendship quickly grew into something more. Logan found himself drawn to you in ways he couldn’t explain. You were an enigma, someone who lived between worlds, yet grounded enough to keep him from losing himself in his own darkness.
You moved into Logan’s cabin, a secluded place where you both could escape the chaos of the world. It wasn’t exactly peaceful—Logan’s past and your connection to the dead made sure of that—but it was home.
One night, as you lay in bed together, you stirred awake. Logan could feel it—the change in the air, the subtle shift in your body temperature. He opened his eyes to see you sitting up, staring at something in the corner of the room.
“Who is it this time?” Logan asked, his voice rough with sleep.
“There’s a woman here,” you said, your voice distant. “She’s…angry. Betrayed. She was killed by someone she trusted.”
Logan sighed, sitting up beside you. He was used to this by now. “What does she want?”
You turned to him, your eyes reflecting the sadness and fury of the spirit inside you. “Vengeance. She wants him to suffer like she did.”
Logan could see the strain this was putting on you. “You don’t have to do this tonight. You can tell her to wait.”
You shook your head. “She won’t wait. This is her only chance.”
Without another word, you got out of bed and began to dress, your movements slow and deliberate. Logan knew better than to try and stop you. He’d seen what happened when you resisted the spirits—it wasn’t pretty.
“I’ll come with you,” he said, pulling on his jeans and boots.
You nodded, grateful for his support. Logan’s presence had a way of grounding you, of keeping you tethered to the living world when the dead threatened to pull you under.
As you both headed out into the night, Logan couldn’t shake the feeling that something was different this time. The spirit inside you was more powerful than the others, more determined. He could feel it in the air, a malevolence that made his skin crawl.
The spirit led you to an old, run-down house on the outskirts of town. Logan followed closely behind, his senses on high alert. You walked up to the front door and knocked, your hand trembling slightly.
The door opened, revealing a man in his late forties, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Who the hell are you?”
“She knows what you did,” you said, your voice filled with the rage of the spirit within you. “And she’s here to make you pay.”
Logan watched as the man’s face paled, his eyes widening in fear. “No… It can’t be…”
Before Logan could react, you lunged forward, your hand wrapping around the man’s throat. The spirit’s fury flowed through you, making you stronger than you should have been, your grip like iron.
Logan moved quickly, pulling you back before you could do any real damage. “That’s enough, Y/N!”
The man collapsed to the floor, gasping for air, while you struggled against Logan’s hold, the spirit’s anger overwhelming you.
“He deserves to die!” you screamed, your voice no longer your own.
Logan held you tightly, his voice firm but gentle. “This isn’t you, Y/N. You’re stronger than this. Don’t let her control you.”
For a moment, it seemed like the spirit would win, that it would consume you completely. But then, with a shuddering breath, you managed to regain control, the spirit’s presence slowly fading as you collapsed against Logan, exhausted.
The man on the floor was sobbing, babbling apologies that fell on deaf ears. Logan looked down at him with disgust. “Get out of town. If I see you again, you won’t be so lucky.”
The man scrambled to his feet and ran, disappearing into the night.
Logan turned his attention back to you, his hand gently cupping your face. “You okay?”
You nodded weakly, leaning into his touch. “Yeah… I’m okay.”
He sighed in relief, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Let’s get you home.”
Life with you was never boring, and Logan wouldn’t have had it any other way. But when Wade found out about your abilities, things got a little more…interesting.
“Hold up,” Wade said, leaning back in his chair, Mary Puppins perched on his lap. “You’re telling me your significant other is basically a walking, talking Ouija board?”
Logan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Something like that.”
Wade’s eyes lit up with mischief. “That is so badass! Do you do parties? Can you, like, summon Elvis or something? Wait, don’t answer that—I have a list of people I want to talk to, starting with—”
“Wade,” Logan growled, cutting him off. “It’s not a party trick.”
Wade pouted. “You’re no fun. But seriously, that’s gotta be weird, right? I mean, what happens if they get mad? Do you end up like one of those possessed dolls from horror movies?”
You chuckled, leaning against Logan. “It’s not quite that dramatic, but it can get intense. I try to keep them under control.”
“Still, sounds like a hell of a time,” Wade said, clearly fascinated. “You ever, uh, use your abilities on Logan here? Like, freak him out in the middle of the night?”
You smiled mischievously, glancing at Logan. “Maybe once or twice.”
Logan shot you a look but didn’t say anything. Wade burst out laughing. “Oh man, I wish I could’ve seen that! Logan, scared out of his mind—priceless!”
Logan rolled his eyes, pulling you closer. “I wasn’t scared.”
“Sure, sure,” Wade said, waving his hand dismissively. “But for real, you two are like the weirdest couple I’ve ever seen. And coming from me, that’s saying something. But you know what? I think it works. You balance each other out. Plus, if anyone ever pisses you off, you can just send them a nice little nightmare. That’s a win in my book.”
You and Logan exchanged a glance, both of you smiling. Wade might be a pain, but he wasn’t wrong.
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orinfucker · 1 year ago
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bite me
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summary: astarion decides he should reward you for being such a generous thing to him these last few weeks, and who are you to decline?
warnings: fem!reader, very little plot, slight degradation, praise, dom!astarion, dumbification, vampire biting, blood, begging, slight breath play, fingering, reader has a small hand kink, astarion is a tease, aftercare, fluff at the end
note: i haven’t written anything in months so i apologize in advance if this isn’t that good <\3 anyways i love this sad vampire man more than most things rn
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“ah, hello my dear.” a certain pale elf spoke, sauntering towards your spot near the crackling fire. you smiled soft, offering him a nod to sit besides you. the air was cold this night - shivers ran along your spine as the breeze drifted throughout the woods surrounding camp. “i can’t believe how cold it’s gotten already, my bedroll barely keeps me warm enough these days.” you begrudgingly said, rubbing the flesh of your palms up and down the exposed skin of your arms.
astarion chuckled at your annoyance, amused at how the smallest changes caused your emotions to flutter. “well darling, you could always come to me if your looking for some warmth.” a rush of pink flooded your cheeks at his remark; you were used to his flirting, but it still never failed to get a reaction out of you. “plus i’ve been meaning to, well, express my thanks to you.” you looked up towards the vampire, a confused expression cast upon your face. “what would you need to be thanking me for exactly?”
he grinned slyly before leaning down to grab your chin between his cold fingers, lifting your head slightly so your eyes connected with his piercing red ones. “for offering me that delicious blood of yours, my sweet. i’d be but a pathetic man if not for your generosity.” a jolt ran through your body at his words, and your thighs tried their best to not clench as he licked his lips at the sight of your exposed neck.
“and.. and how exactly would you be expressing your thanks towards me for that?” you meekly replied. astarion stifled a laugh at your whispered tone, he always knew you were easily flustered by his words. “with sex, darling. unless you’re not interested? though i think we both know that’d be a lie.” just his words were enough to get you riled up - pathetic, you thought. there was no point in denying his claims either, he already knew what you desired from him. a shaky breath left your mouth before you finally replied, “please.”
astarion smirked, “already begging.. have you craved me that badly, pet?” your head nodded instantly, lust clouding over your eyes as the man in front of you assisted you to your feet. “let’s head to my tent then, hm? i wouldn’t want to keep my needy pup waiting.” the elf led you towards his tent, one of his hands supporting your lower back as you bent down to shimmy past the opening.
astarion was quick to push you onto the ground, crawling over your quivering body before finally hovering right above your plump lips. your arms wrapped themselves around his neck as his right hand snuck up to cup your cheek. “you’re beautiful, my dear.” his voice sounded soft, causing a low whine to escape from you. his lips grazed your own for just a moment before moving to leave small pecks along the sides of your jaw, the feeling of his fangs nipping your skin every so often.
“astarion, please.” you whined, craving the touch of the vampire currently sprawled on top of you. “patience, darling. you’ll have me soon enough.” a slight roll of your eyes caught the elf’s attention, his eyebrow twitching at your apparent attitude. “oh? do you intend on being a brat?” he questioned with a tilt of his head, the hand once on your cheek now trailing to apply pressure to your neck. the breath in your throat hitched as nervous eyes met cold, red ones - a sense of submission washing over your mind as you began to shake your head in response. astarion hummed, satisfied with your answer - “good girl.”
the pressure on your throat lessened as his hand trailed down your front before finally resting right above the heat of your cunt. your hips moved on their own as they rolled into the palm of his hand, releasing a groan from the depths of your throat. “such a needy thing, aren’t you?” astarion’s hand began to slowly rub against your clothed cunt, enticing moan after moan to leave your lips as his ministrations continued. “hah - fuck!” your teeth dug into the flesh of your lips, the smallest drop of blood leaking from them in response. the vampire immediately leaned down towards your lips, enveloping them in a sloppy kiss - his tongue swiping away the blood once on them.
“astarion,” you whispered out, catching the attention of the vampire atop of you. “yes darling?” the movement of his hand stopped, now cupping the warmth of your pussy within it. “bite me.” astarion’s expression darkened as a low growl erupted from his throat, his free hand now grazing the side of your waist. “you drive me mad, pet.” you felt his hot breath upon your neck, sending shivers throughout the course of your body. the points of his teeth grazed the flesh, seemingly teasing you before finally breaking the surface.
astarion moaned as your blood filled his system, becoming lost in the pleasure of your neck. your body arched into his own, whimpers slipping past your lips as black dots began to cloud your vision. “a..astarion-!” his senses came back to him as he delicately removed his fangs from your skin, watching as the two holes oozed with red. before you could say a word, you felt the swipe of his tongue across the wound, cleaning the excess blood off. you contained a whine from coming out as he began to leave small kisses along the now bloodstained area of your flesh.
“you are insatiable, love.” you giggled before enveloping his bloodied lips once again, a more passionate sensation washing over your body. a shocked moan escaped you as the feeling of his hand slipping past your small clothes disrupted your thoughts, the cold of his fingers grazing the mound atop your cunt. “so wet for me, aren’t you?” you could barley think as his digits swirled your clit, one dipping down to tease your entrance. “stop - fuck, teasing me!” a hearty laugh left the elf, amused by your whines of disapproval. “so impatient, whatever will i do with you?”
finally you felt two of his fingers dive into you, a relieved sigh escaping your lips at the feeling. he started with slow, precise thrusts, the curl of his digits sending stars to your mind. he slowly worked the insides of your cunt, your walls fluttering against the length of his fingers. when you felt a third digit enter, your entire body shook with pleasure; a response only he could entice from you. “gods,” your mind felt like it was melting with every flick of his hand, and you could already feel an orgasm brewing within.
astarion observed the way your face contorted with pleasure, how your teeth dug into the flesh of your cheek and your eyes rolled into the back of your skull. he watched as your body jerked when his fingers reached the deepest parts of you, whines slipping into his ears while your hand shakily came down to wrap around his own. “i, i’m gonna cum-!” he smirked for a moment before increasing the speed of his movements, now ramming his digits in and out of your sopping hole. a bubbling feeling appeared in the depths of your stomach, and you knew it would be moments before you finally were sent over the edge.
astarion noticed the way your thighs closed around his wrist, and how the walls of cunt squeezed against his fingers in desperation. “what a naughty pet i have, hm?” he started, watching your face turn even more flushed then it already was. mantras of please, please, please were all you could muster out, looking into the vampire’s eyes with pleading ones. “go on, cum for me.” you felt your vision go white, a wave of numbness washed over your body before a feeling of relief replaced it. astarion groaned as he felt your cunt spasm with each thrust of his fingers, his jaw clenching with the sight of cum leaking from your hole.
your mind felt blank, every thought in your head vanished from the aftershocks of your orgasm. astarion slowly removed his fingers from your pussy, watching as your hole clenched around nothing from the loss. “how are you feeling, love?” the elf asked, his voice softening as he watched your face melt into a dopey smile. all you did was hum in response, your head still miles away from the current moment. “we can stop here if you’re overwhelmed, pet; i’m sure we’ll have many more opportunities to continue.” you nodded your head just as a yawn managed to slip from your throat, making the vampire smile before standing up to search for a rag.
your eyes followed his every movement, mesmerized by the beauty of the man stood in front of you. astarion glanced towards you, catching your wandering eyes focused on him. “what’s on your mind, my sweet?” he questioned, kneeling back down to wipe off the liquids that coated your thighs. “just looking at you, that’s all.” you mumbled out, hissing lightly as the rag grazed your sensitive cunt. astarion let out a quick apology before the cloth away, throwing it into some lost corner of his tent. “well, you should probably head back to your bedroll love.” a hum left you in response, yet there was no attempt from you to leave his tent. astarion could see the gears turning behind your eyes, immediately knowing there was more that you wanted to say.
“what is it? i can see there’s something you want to ask.” you hesitated for a moment before finally speaking, “could i, maybe, stay here for the night?” astarion seemed taken aback at your question, not used to someone wanting to stay with him willingly. “well, i don’t see why not.” your face lit up at his response, but you quickly calmed yourself down. a quiet thank you left your lips as you watched the vampire crawl towards the space next you, relaxing himself onto the ground before sneaking an arm around your side. your body melted into his own, a sense of comfort consuming your mind as exhaustion took over you. “goodnight, astarion.” the vampire hummed, leaning over to leave a kiss on the top of your forehead. “goodnight my love.”
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revelboo · 3 months ago
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OMG ITS YOUR BIRTHDAY?! 🎂 🎉 🎈 HAPPY BIRTHDAY! 🎁
It is! Thank you!
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Bad Idea Pt 6
TFP Soundwave x Reader
• Brushing your arm with the back of a servo, he shudders as that contact strengthens the connection to your mind and instead of just an onslaught of your quicksilver, shifting emotions, he catches a quick image of himself looming over you tangled with your wary uncertainty. Breaking the contact shatters the image, your emotions still there but not so overwhelming. Little by little, he’s building up an immunity to the chaos of your mind, practicing his own form of mithridatism to inoculate himself against drowning in you. Little doses so it’s not so crippling. Tendrils writhing as he reaches to pick up one of the brightly colored sugary treats he’d broken into a vending machine to retrieve and offering it. Reinforcing your tolerance to his touch and being handled.
• He’s holding another candy bar, head tipped as he waits and even though you don’t want it, you take it because it’s that or risk offending him. You’ve ate so much chocolate you feel slightly sick, playing whatever this game is all day. He reaches out to pet you and if you don’t flinch, you get a candy. And stared at until you obediently eat it. It reminds you unsettlingly of training a puppy with little treats. That servo tips your chin up, and there’s the music note again. Wanting you to sing for him. Maybe you’re not a puppy at all, but a little song bird to him.
• You huff at him, still holding the treat, but oblige him. Singing that same little nonsensical song for him even though you must know others. Not that he minds this one, it’s soft and soothing. A lullaby that strokes over him and chains those memories lurking in the dark part of his processor, because those thoughts creep in when it’s quiet, insidious and unstoppable. You’re a distraction, keeping him from losing himself to the past. To broken things that can never be repaired, but still have the power to hurt.
• As you sing for him, his head lowers, the tension in those big, pointy shoulders easing some. Like he needs this. Maybe giant, indecipherable, alien robots get stressed, too. Worry and fear like you do. Maybe you’re just trying to humanize him to make him less terrifying. But in that moment, even with no face to read an expression on, he seems so lost. You don’t mean to reach out, but you lay your palm on the back of one of his servos and his helm tips to stare at your hand on him. And you wonder if you miscalculated as your breath catches in your throat. Overstepped, but then you feel one of those tendrils brush your ankle before curling loosely about you in a gentle hold. Your heart is beating faster, but it’s okay. This is fine.
• Worry for him broadcasting through that touch. It’s the first time you’ve willingly touched him, your tiny palm soft and warm. Curling a tendril around you, he waits to see how you react and to his surprise, your other palm slides over the tendril, accepting the touch and strengthening the connection. It’s such a little thing, but it makes his spark warm. And you laugh softly when he flashes that musical note again, because you’d stopped singing. Little hands on him, grounding him in the present not the past as you sing to distract him.
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brainddeadd · 3 months ago
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Not You
Reader is Jack Hughes' best friend. Quinn Hughes is in love with her. Years of friendship go by before he finally asks her on a date, but reader is hesitant because of his sleeping around.
Warnings: kinda angsty, kinda fluffy, kiss, Jack being an actual grown up and giving good advice
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“They're not you!” Quinn exclaims, throwing his hands up in frustration.
"I'm well aware of that!" She shoots back, her heart racing.
“No,” he sighs, his voice dropping an octave. “I've been going out and sleeping around and going on fucking terrible dates with awful people trying to get over you because you don't want me, but they are not you."
"Quinn—"
“I have been trying to get over you for so long but I don't want anyone else. Do you know what it's like to sleep with someone or go on a date and wish with every fiber of your being that it was someone else sitting across from you, under you, touching you? ‘Cause I do.” He laughs bitterly, the sound breaking her heart. “And it fucking sucks, YN. To want the one person you can't have."
She bites her lip, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions crashing over her. “I’m scared, Quinn. I can’t just forget everything. You’ve been with other people.”
“Those people mean nothing to me,” he insists, stepping closer, desperation etched across his face. “Every single time, I’d look at them and imagine you. It’s not fair to them, and it’s not fair to me.”
His intensity leaves her breathless, and she struggles to find the right words. “But what if it doesn’t work? What if we end up ruining our friendship?”
Quinn’s eyes soften, vulnerability spilling over as he leans in. “I’d rather risk our friendship than keep pretending I don’t want you. Can’t you see? I’ve been in love with you for years. I don’t want to sleep around. I want to be with you.”
Her heart races, the tension in the air crackling like static. “I just don’t know if I can handle that kind of risk.”
“You won’t know until you try,” he implores, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make it work. I just need you to give me a chance.”
Quinn’s words hang in the air, heavy with possibility. She can feel her walls starting to crumble, but fear still grips her heart. “I… I need time to think.”
“Take all the time you need,” he replies, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Just know that I’m serious about us. I’m not going anywhere.”
As he steps back, the distance between them feels immense, yet the connection remains electrifying. She watches him, torn between fear and longing, realizing that what he offers could change everything.
“Okay,” she finally says, the word feeling both like a promise and a challenge. “I’ll think about it.”
Quinn nods, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “That’s all I ask.”
As she watched him, a whirlwind of emotions churned within her—hope battling with anxiety. She turned her gaze to the ground, trying to gather her thoughts, but the reality of what had just transpired echoed in her mind.
“I just don’t want to get hurt,” she admitted quietly, almost to herself.
Quinn took a step closer again, his expression softening. “I get that. I really do. But I promise you, I’m not like those guys. I won’t treat you like a passing fling.”
“Then why did you sleep with them?” she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper. “If you cared so much…”
“Because I thought I could move on,” he said, his voice heavy with regret. “I thought maybe the feelings would fade, and I could forget. But every time I tried, it just made me realize how much I want you.”
She swallowed hard, the tension between them still palpable. “You’re putting a lot on the line here, Quinn.”
“I’m willing to risk it all for you. I have been for a long time,” he confessed, his gaze unwavering. “I just want you to see that I’m serious about this.”
“Let’s say I do give you a chance. What would that even look like?” she asked, curiosity creeping into her voice.
Quinn smiled softly, the tension easing slightly as he thought about it. “We take it slow. We go out on real dates, not just grabbing food after games. We find out what makes each other laugh, what our favorite things are. We go to the places we love and make new memories together.”
Her heart fluttered at the thought, but doubts still nagged at her mind. “What if we end up ruining our friendship?”
“Then we’ll fix it,” he replied, his tone steady. “I refuse to let anything come between us. You mean too much to me.”
She felt a warmth spread through her chest at his words. “I just need time to process this,” she said, her voice firm yet soft.
“Of course,” he nodded, respect evident in his eyes. “I’ll give you space. But just remember, I’m here, waiting for you to make your choice.”
As he turned to leave, she called out to him, her heart racing. “Quinn?”
He stopped and looked back, his expression hopeful.
“Thank you for being honest with me,” she said, a small smile breaking through her uncertainty.
He returned her smile, a genuine one that lit up his face. “Always.”
After he walked away, she leaned against the wall, her heart still racing. The conversation replayed in her mind, each word igniting a mix of excitement and fear.
What if they took this leap together? What if it all went wrong? But what if it went right?
The uncertainty felt overwhelming, but deep down, a flicker of hope began to bloom. Maybe it was time to confront her fears, to take a chance on something that could be extraordinary.
With a determined breath, she resolved to think things through. Whatever the outcome, she knew one thing for certain: the bond they shared was worth fighting for.
~~
Later that evening, she found herself sitting in the cozy living room of Jack’s apartment. The faint sound of a hockey game played in the background, but her mind was too consumed to pay attention. Jack was sprawled on the couch, his eyes glued to the screen, but he could sense her unease.
“Hey, you good?” he asked, turning to her with a quizzical look.
“Yeah, just… thinking,” she replied, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt.
“About Quinn?” Jack’s tone was casual, but she could tell he was paying close attention.
“Maybe,” she said, biting her lip. “He… he confessed that he wants to be more than friends.”
Jack raised an eyebrow, a teasing grin breaking across his face. “Finally! I thought he’d never get his act together.”
She rolled her eyes, trying to mask her anxiety with a laugh. “It’s not that simple. I mean, he’s been with other people, Jack. What if he just thinks he wants me because he can’t find anyone else?”
“Come on, YN,” Jack said, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “Quinn isn’t like that. He genuinely cares about you. He’s not some random guy who’s going to flake out after a few dates. You know that.”
“I do,” she admitted, running a hand through her hair. “But I’m scared. I don’t want to ruin our friendship. We’ve been through so much together.”
“That’s exactly why you should give him a chance,” Jack urged, leaning forward, his eyes locking onto hers. “You guys have a solid foundation. If it doesn’t work out, you’ll find a way to navigate it. But what if it does work? What if you both figure out that you’re better together?”
She thought about Quinn’s words from earlier, his raw honesty and the way he had poured his heart out to her. “He said he’s tired of sleeping around and just wants me. It’s kind of hard to ignore that.”
“Exactly! It sounds like he’s done playing games. He’s ready for something real,” Jack encouraged, a smile creeping onto his face. “And if he’s willing to put himself out there like that, you should at least consider it.”
“But what if it ends badly?” she asked, her voice small. “What if we break each other’s hearts?”
Jack shrugged. “That’s a risk in any relationship. But look at it this way: you both care about each other deeply. You can’t let fear keep you from exploring something that could be amazing.”
She sighed, leaning back against the couch. “I know you’re right. It’s just… hard to shake off that fear.”
“Just take your time. Think about what you really want. You don’t have to rush into anything,” Jack said, reaching over to squeeze her hand. “But don’t ignore your feelings. They’re telling you something for a reason.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.” She felt a wave of gratitude for Jack, appreciating how he always knew how to guide her through tough situations.
“Quinn’s a good guy. If anyone can handle your heart, it’s him,” he added with a grin.
As the game continued on TV, she found herself lost in thought, weighing Jack’s words. Maybe it was time to confront her fears head-on.
The idea of giving Quinn a chance flickered like a light in her mind, pushing back the shadows of doubt.
“Thanks, Jack,” she said softly, glancing over at her best friend. “I really needed to hear that.”
“Anytime,” he replied, flashing her a reassuring smile.
~~
After her conversation with Jack, she felt a surge of determination. She needed to talk to Quinn—clear the air and explore what was between them. With a deep breath, she grabbed her jacket and headed out, her heart racing as she made her way to his apartment.
When she arrived, she hesitated for a moment, wondering if she was making the right choice. But she couldn’t ignore the pull she felt toward him, the way his words had lingered in her mind. With one last deep breath, she knocked on the door.
A moment later, Quinn opened it, surprise flickering across his face. “YN! I didn’t expect to see you.”
“Can I come in?” she asked, her voice steady despite the flutter in her chest.
“Of course!” he said, stepping aside to let her in. The space was cozy, a mix of sports memorabilia and comfortable furniture. He looked casual in a T-shirt and sweats, but she felt the intensity of his gaze on her.
Once the door closed behind her, she turned to face him, her heart pounding. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah, I figured as much,” Quinn said, his voice low as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m glad you came.”
She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “I talked to Jack earlier. He… he helped me see things a bit more clearly.”
Quinn’s eyes brightened with hope. “And?”
“I want to give us a chance,” she admitted, the words feeling both exhilarating and terrifying. “But I think we should take it slow. I’m not ready to dive into anything without knowing we can handle it.”
“Slow sounds good to me,” he replied, relief washing over his features. “I want to do this right, to make sure you’re comfortable. We can take as much time as we need.”
“Okay,” she said, her heart fluttering at his response. “Let’s just see where this goes, day by day.”
Quinn stepped closer, closing the distance between them. The air around them seemed to shimmer with anticipation. “I’ve wanted this for so long, YN. I want to explore all of you—the things you love, your dreams, everything.”
She smiled, feeling warmth spread through her. “I want that too.”
As they stood facing each other, the atmosphere shifted, the air charged with unspoken emotions. Quinn’s eyes held a mixture of longing and sincerity, and she felt her heartbeat quicken.
“Can I—” he began, hesitating as if weighing his words carefully. “Can I kiss you?”
The question hung in the air, and she felt a rush of exhilaration. “Yes. Please.”
With that, Quinn closed the space between them, his hands gently cradling her face as he leaned in. Their lips met softly at first, a tentative exploration that sent shivers down her spine. The world around them faded away, leaving just the two of them in that moment.
Quinn’s lips moved against hers, warm and inviting, and she responded instinctively, her hands finding their way to his shoulders. As the kiss deepened, she felt a surge of emotions—relief, desire, and a sense of belonging all mingling together. He tasted of warmth and sweetness, a hint of mint from the gum he had been chewing.
Their breaths mingled, and she felt the urgency building between them as he tilted his head, deepening the kiss. The sensation was electric, igniting a fire within her that she hadn’t realized had been smoldering all along.
Quinn’s hands slid down to her waist, pulling her closer, as if trying to meld their bodies together. She wrapped her arms around his neck, losing herself in the moment, savoring the taste of him, the warmth of his body pressed against hers.
Time seemed to stand still, the kiss stretching into something breathtaking, a moment she wished could last forever. She could feel the tension and longing that had built between them finally breaking free, unleashing a torrent of emotions she had kept locked away.
When they finally pulled away, breathless, their foreheads resting against each other, the world around them slowly came back into focus.
“Wow,” Quinn breathed, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes shimmering with awe.
“Wow,” she echoed, her heart racing as she processed the intensity of the kiss.
“I guess taking it slow might be the best decision we ever make,” he said, a soft smile spreading across his face.
“Definitely,” she replied, feeling a warmth blossom in her chest.
As they stood there, the distance between them faded, and she knew that this was just the beginning of something beautiful—a new chapter filled with possibilities, each moment waiting to unfold.
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marvelfilth · 2 years ago
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Wisdom teeth
Pairing: Wednesday Addams x f!reader
Warnings: ooc! Wednesday, mention of blood
Summary: "I've been successful at keeping this piece of information to myself for the past two months and twelve days, but now it seems that I can't hold back the words from escaping my treacherous mouth. It's almost as if I have no control of what is going through my brain at the moment. I feel like an adolescent cliché."
Masterlist
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She doesn't say anything when you help her to the passenger seat of your car, her eyes stay rooted on the spot above your shoulder, dark and unblinking. She sits dutifully and doesn't complain when you bend to fasten her seatbelt, your warm fingers barely grazing her clothed thigh on accident. You think you heard a slightest hitch of her throat, but that might have been your wishful thinking.
Ever since the brooding brunette first stepped foot on Nevermore grounds you were irrevocably pulled in her orbit, always close enough to be seen by her, but never close enough to reach out and touch, not that you'll ever try, you do need all of your fingers intact. Her menacing aura and Machiavellian tendencies never stopped you from trying to reach out and form some sort of connection, even if it was just making eye contact in dark hallways or receiving nearly unperceivable eye rolls whenever Enid dragged you to their room. Not even once in the months you've known her did she grace you with more than a few words and barely noticeable nods, opting to focus on her novel or, in extreme cases, leaving the room to continue her endless investigations.
So when Enid cornered you in the morning and practically begged you to take Wednesday to the dentist's office, you were torn between crushing Enid in a hug and fleeing to the woods to hide out.
In the end, you couldn't miss the chance to get to know the gothic girl a little bit better.
Wednesday pointedly clears her throat and you jump up, bumping your head against the roof of your car, close the door and make your way to the driver's seat.
You suppose her impatience to get back to school makes sense with how overstuffed her mouth seems at the moment, and once you're finally behind the wheel you reach over the console to gently swab away droplets of blood on her lips.
She stops breathing altogether.
"Are you alright, Wednesday?" You can't help, but ask, your hand awkwardly hovering over the console.
She takes a moment to think and you have to pinch yourself to make sure you're not dreaming when you practically see gears turning in her head as she struggles to formulate a response, her brows crinkled and lips slightly pursed.
"Your archive. Are we going there now?" She asks.
And there's that.
She refused anesthesia, looking eager to go through all the pain, her eyes shining brighter than you've ever seen. The doctor blanched, stuttering while he tried to reason with her, mentioning how agonizing the pain will be and how he'll probably get fired if he agreed to do it.
It made your skin crawl.
You pulled her away before she could threaten the poor man, promising her anything she wanted if listened to the doctor and agreed to anesthesia.
Her eyes flickered to your hand on her shoulder before she looked back at the sweating man, her eyes narrowing slightly.
You held your breath, looking at her with wide eyes, already regretting your offer, but all she asked for was unlimited access to your family archive.
You suppose her request made sense, given your family's history and her unwavering interest in all things unknown, but it still made your heart clench with an unbidden feeling you'd never name out loud.
"No, we're going back to school. I told you I'll take you there over summer, remember?" You patiently reply, subtly eyeing the grumpy brunette.
She huffs, wincing when it causes her pain and turns to look out the window, her eyes slightly hazy.
You take a deep breath and finally pull out from the parking lot, driving in silence and keeping your eyes firmly on the road until you can no longer pretend like you don't feel her heavy gaze on you.
"What is it, Wednesday?"
"Your face."
You blanch, offended. "What about it?"
You don't think you'll be able to withstand her making fun of your looks. She doesn't seem like the type to do that, but you can't be too sure - she is acting rather out of character.
"It's distracting. Turn around." She demands, furrowing her brows.
Your jaw falls open. "Wednesday, I'm driving."
She huffs and crosses her arms. After a minute of contemplation she starts rummaging through your glove compartment.
"Don't," you groan. You won't let her tear you apart for the mess she'll undoubtedly find there, so you reach for your phone. "Why don't you play a game? Or, I don't know, find something to blackmail me with?" You unlock it and toss it on her lap, your hand falling back on the wheel, clutching it in a tight grip.
Your phone lays untouched for a long moment and you have to restrain yourself from looking over at the ravenette. It's the longest you've spent in her company and she most certainly said more words in the past ten minutes than she did in all the time you've known her, and Enid didn't prepare you for conversations.
Your palms start to sweat a little.
She looks down at her lap and picks up your phone with two fingers only to throw it on the backseat. "I'm allergic to technology," she deadpans.
She stays silent for the next few minutes and you relax, thanking every divine being for making this trip somewhat easy for you.
And that's when she turns to look back at you, her expression sour and displeased, like you just said something really dumb. You decide to ignore her for as long as you can, checking your blind spots and fiddling with the radio to seem busy.
She pointedly clears her throat, pulling your attention. You sigh and look at her.
"What now?"
She frowns. "I feel compelled to reveal something you might find… unwelcome." Her mumble comes out distorted and she winces slightly, her hand coming up to cradle her swollen cheek and you swiftly slap it away, sheepishly looking away at her affronted look.
"Don't want you to hurt yourself."
"Usually, slapping ones hand causes them pain," she retorts, fully turning in her seat to face you. "You slapped my hand. That hurt. Not that I didn't enjoy it, but I prefer to inflict pain, not receive it."
You snort, shaking your head at the smaller girl and she pouts. Wednesday Addams, the girl who'd rather jump off a cliff in a river full of piranhas than show an ounce of human emotion, pouts.
But maybe it's not so strange, considering the circumstances.
You adjust in your seat, your right hand landing on your thigh to subtly fiddle with the rough fabric of your jeans. They're light blue, with flowers all over their back pockets and Wednesday absolutely hates them, which is why, you guess, she's currently staring down at your legs like they're her mortal enemies.
The tips of her ears turn red.
"Must you do that?" She hisses, gesturing to your hand on your thigh.
You blink and place it back on the wheel, noting the way her eyes snap up to glare at the road.
"Are you feeling okay?" You ask, because she's starting to look restless. Her fingers clench and unclench on her lap and she keeps glancing at your hand every couple of seconds.
"No." Her eyes snap up to look at the roof of your car, her face a picture of impatience. "Hold my hand."
You gulp, breath catching in your throat and turn to look at the smaller girl just in time to catch her boring holes into your hand and probe lightly at her cheeks. Your mouth opens to stutter a response, but her scathing look makes you shut up.
"This gauze in my mouth feels terrible, I can't possibly endure it a moment longer. Holding your hand will make the feeling bearable." She looks at you expectantly, turning over her hand on her lap, waiting.
You hesitantly reach out and take her hand. She laces your fingers, letting out a quiet sigh as she sags against the weathered leather, turning to look out the window.
You can't believe this is happening.
This Wednesday is not something you're equipped to deal with. Hell, you can barely manage her regular self, which still comes hard at times, especially when you intrude on her writing time. It's not like you mean to do that, but a certain blonde always chooses that exact hour to invite you over, always wearing a mischievous smirk when Wednesday tenses up upon your arrival.
This feels like walking on thin ice at gunpoint with a ticking bomb in your hands.
"How-"
Her nails dig into your skin hard enough to make you yelp, but you don't pull away, eyeing the stewing girl. She's breathing heavily, her lips opening and closing as she seemingly tries to keep herself from blurting something out.
It's so bizarre you have an urge to pinch yourself, but you don't need that with her nails still digging into your skin.
You focus on the road, afraid to stir the dragon.
Her next words make you jolt so hard the car wavers on the road.
"Every time my eyes land on you my heart skips a beat," she says, like she's complaining about a mystery she couldn't solve.
You grip the steering wheel tighter. "What?"
"One does not typically pay attention to such mundane thing, but I do. Whenever you're in my vicinity I can't help, but be aware of each skipped beat of my heart. The feeling is revolting, and I've had the urge to confess this ever since I woke up." She frowns, and it's quiet for a few minutes as she seemingly gathers her thoughts.
The moment you had in your art shed suddenly comes to mind. You went there after a long day of studying in the library, ready to decompress and finish your latest painting. You didn't expect anyone to be there, which is why you shrieked like a maniac when you flicked the lights on, basking Wednesday's rigid form in warm yellow glow. She stood over your painting, her features stony and unreadable as her fingers traced the outline of a shipwreck on the canvas, the still wet paint smudging her fingers and messing up your precise strokes.
It made the painting even more beautiful.
You dug around your backpack, looking for tissues, taking a step closer when you finally found some. With great hesitance, you reached for her hand, your fingers closing around her delicate wrist. Her lips parted as she inhaled, her pulse erratic under your thumb. She took one look at you, turned on her heel and left, her perfume lingering in the air.
You gulp, when her grip on your hand turns painful. "I've been successful at keeping this piece of information to myself for the past two months and twelve days, but now it seems that I can't hold back the words from escaping my treacherous mouth. It's almost as if I have no control of what is going through my brain at the moment. I feel like an adolescent cliché," she complains through gritted teeth, irritated.
Your face burns the same shade as the red light you've come to stop at. You don't know if you should feel ecstatic or fear for your life, because no matter what happens next, you're sure Wednesday will have your head for witnessing a rare moment of weakness. But your heart always had more power than your head, so you're left with trembling hands and sweaty palms, choking on your breath as you struggle to think of something to say.
"Wednesday, I'm going to have a heart attack," you mumble.
"You're not showing any signs of an impending heart attack, if anything, your symptoms correlate with something Enid usually calls having a crush." She's back to staring intently at you, catching every twitch of the muscles on your face as you try your best to keep your blush at bay. Her hand slides up, enclosing your wrist.
Your heart burns in your chest and you feel the need to correct her, to tell her that what you feel for her is more than some stupid crush. You need to tell her about the way your dark wings tingle when she brushes past you, begging to be released from the confinement of your spine. You need to tell her about the way your heart beats out a special rhythm, hammering against your ribs like a caged animal, desperately leading its owner to the girl who successfully stole it.
You need to tell her how easy it was to fall for her and how hard it got when you realized the extent of your feelings.
You need to tell her something, anything.
You need to tell her everything.
A loud honk jostles you and you look back at the road to keep driving, trying your best to hide your face when a car passes by you, the driver giving you a finger.
"Imbecile," Wednesday mumbles.
"Yeah, what an asshole."
"I meant you. The gesture was entirely appropriate seeing as you failed to pay attention to your surroundings."
"Huh?" You gape. "You're insulting me now?"
"Your observation skills never cease to amaze me," she frowns in thought, "just like your remarkable ability to make my existence less bothersome." The haze in her eyes is gone, replaced by reserve and a hint of fondness.
Your brain short circuits.
You pull over and let your forehead fall against the wheel, still holding it in a death grip.
You would never admit it to anyone, not even on your deathbed, but you swear you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach at her quiet confession.
Your smile is so wide it hurts your cheeks, but you don't care as long as Wednesday keeps looking at you like that, like she's trying her best at keeping away the warmth in her eyes. They flicker to your lips when you lick them, and this time she can't keep her emotions in check, her eyes alight with fiery passion.
You can't help voicing your concern. "I thought you didn't like me that much. I mean, you barely speak to me when Enid drags me to your dorm."
She looks at you for a long moment. Her thumb circles your knuckle. "Enid has a surprisingly perceptive eye. She noticed a certain change in my behavior long before I did and decided to act on it. I simply wasn't prepared."
"Are you prepared now?" You breathe out.
"Are you?"
You let out a relieved laugh, and pull her hand up to your lips, placing a soft kiss on her ice cold knuckle. "Wednesday, I've been pining over you since the day we met."
She lets out a barely noticeable breath and you suddenly realize she's been nervous all this time too, you just failed to pay attention in your anxiety riddled state.
"Good." The corners of her mouth fly up.
Your eyes widen. She has dimples.
She turns away nonchalantly and places your intertwined hands on her lap, looking like she just solved the biggest mystery known to mankind.
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mermaidgirl30 · 8 months ago
Text
✨Daddy’s Best Friend, Mr. Miller Chapter 5: Let Me Take You There✨
Dbf! Joel Miller x fem! reader
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Series Masterlist
A/N: This has been a work in progress for 2 months, but it is finally here! Moodboard made by @mrsmando 🩵 I have been working on so many things lately, but I’m so happy with how this chapter turned out. I hope you enjoy 🥰 No beta for this one, but thank you to @mountainsandmayhem and @littlevenicebitch69 for letting me share snippets with you and scream about these two 🩷
Chapter Summary: After your parents cancel your weekend trip to Galveston at the last minute, Joel offers to take you instead.
Rating: 18+ Only MDNI
Word Count: 10.5k
Chapter Tags: Joel takes reader to Galveston, road trip, oral receiving (both male and female), unprotected p in v, creampie, fingering, reader and Joel being in love, bondage, vibrator use, lots of fluff and smut, switching POVs, no use y/n
Dividers by @saradika-graphics
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  It’s Tuesday evening, a few days after your birthday and you’re sitting at the kitchen table eating takeout Mexican food. You’re not alone with your parents; your dad invited Joel over to watch some college game with him. He sits next to you, leg digging into yours as you let yours mold into his. His leg is strong, firm, holding you together as you let it rest against yours. You want to be in his arms, let him hold you tight while you drown in his lips, in his taste, but you can’t. Not here, not right now. 
   You take another bite out of your chicken enchilada and pop another chip drowned in queso in your mouth, letting the juicy flavors run down your throat as it hits just the right spot. 
   “Hey, sweetie, I’ve been meaning to tell you something. You know the Galveston trip this upcoming weekend?” your dad asks, finishing off a bite of his cheesy quesadilla as he sips from his tall water glass. 
   “Yeah, what about it?” you ask through another bite of enchilada. 
   “We’re gonna have to cancel the trip,” he says sadly, taking another bite out of his dripping quesadilla like he has no care in the world for the words that just came out of his mouth. 
   “What?” you ask, shocked. You drop your fork and it goes tumbling to the ground, landing with a loud clunk against the hardwood. Joel doesn’t hesitate and reaches his long arm down, picking up the ruined fork and setting it on the table next to him. 
   “I’m sorry, hun. Your aunt May and Charlie are making a surprise visit down, and they’re gonna come stay with us for the weekend. We wanted to tell you Thursday, but we didn’t want to ruin your weekend,” she says with apologies all over her uneasy tone. 
   “Why couldn’t you just tell them we already had plans? You’ve never canceled this trip before!” The words come out stronger than you want them to, hurt written all over your angry voice. They knew this weekend was important to you. They knew. 
   Joel places a hand discreetly on your thigh to help soothe you, but you barely register his gentle touch with how mad you are. 
   “We tried, hun, but the plans just fell through. I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to go. Maybe next year…”
   You interrupt your mom. “Maybe next year?” you ask quietly with your lip quivering around your words. This trip was important to you. It was always something you looked forward to, but now it was ruined. You feel the backs of your eyes burn with hot tears, but you won’t let them see. They don’t deserve to see you crumble. You’ll just go sulk in your room.
   Joel sees how upset you’re getting, sees the way you’re trying to keep it together at the table. He digs his thick fingers into the flesh of your knee and knits his brows together as he looks over at you from the corner of his eye. You feel his concern through the connected skin. As much as you want to place your hand over his, you just need a few minutes alone. 
   “If you’ll excuse me, I just lost my appetite,” you say as you push back your chair and feel Joel’s warm fingers drop from your skin. 
   As you leave the room and make your way up the towering steps, you hear your dad say something under his breath. “She just needs to cool off. She’ll be fine.”
   For some reason those words just make you more frustrated as you tread up the stairs, letting a hot tear collapse down your cheek as your vision begins to blur. Stupid trip, stupid aunt, stupid everything. You can kiss goodbye to any chance of your ocean weekend getaway because it isn’t happening. 
   You slam the door closed and flop onto your bed, curling your knees into your chest as you let the tears fall. You try to keep yourself together, but you’re too angry, too sad, too hurt. It might not be a big deal to them, but it is to you. So you burn with the heat inside your body and let it swallow you whole. 
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   Joel takes a stiff drink of his iced tea and looks over at George. “You didn’t tell me you were canceling the trip,” he says slowly, trying not to show the concern in his voice as he worries about you wallowing alone in your room. 
   “It just came up. May isn’t usually the type to just drop in, so we thought we’d better stay home and let them come on down. I feel bad, but sometimes things come up, ya know?” George says through a bite of a crunchy tortilla chip, not seeming all that concerned about his daughter. 
   “That’s too bad. She seemed really excited. I think you crushed her,” Joel says as calmly as he can without getting all worked up himself. The thing was, he hated seeing you upset, would never dream of ever making you feel that way. And now he felt obligated to make you feel better. He had to because you’re his girl, and he always takes care of his girl. 
   “We are really sorry. We just hope she’ll forgive us,” Claire says with a sigh huffed in between bites of her dinner. 
   “Yeah. Joel, the game’s back on, you ready to go finish it?” George asks as he gets up and starts heading toward the living room. 
   “Oh, yeah. Just go ahead and turn it on. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Gonna head up to the bathroom first,” Joel says as he pushes back his chair and heads toward the stairs. 
   “Alright, don’t take too long,” George calls as he disappears into the dark living room. Joel prowls up the stairs quietly and heads toward your room. 
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You wipe the last tear away from your cheek and look at yourself in the mirror across the room. You definitely look like you’ve been crying with your tinted red eyes and wet sleeves that leave traces of tears on the back of the aquamarine color. You feel like a complete mess. 
   Just then, you hear the click of the door handle and the squeak of hinges as Joel opens the door and slowly shuts in behind him. You silently gasp as you hope he doesn’t notice you were crying, but he probably will. He always notices. 
   “Hey, you okay there, darlin’?” Joel asks as he comes over and sits on the bed beside you, his eyebrows knit together with worry as his brown eyes stare intently at you. 
   “Mhm,” you hum out faintly as you keep your eyes locked on the cream carpet. 
   “That doesn’t sound very convincing to me,” he says as his hand brushes up against the side of your thigh, almost calming you down as your insides still rage like a hurricane. 
   “I’m fine, just a little upset is all,” you mumble out, holding back anymore tears that may spill over the edge. 
   “Hey, look at me,” he says gently as he cups your chin carefully and turns your face to him. His brown eyes are full of concern, and his gaze doesn’t waver from yours at all. 
   “Where’s that smile that I love so much, huh? C’mon, baby. Let me see it,” he coaxes as he lifts the corners of his mouth into a warm smile, the sight instantly calming you down. 
   He slowly unfolds you, and you can’t help but break when you see his crooked smile splayed across his face. It’s your favorite thing in the world. You drop the frown and replace it with a gentle smile as he trails his calloused thumb against your jawline, making you relax into his touch.
   “Ahh there’s my girl. The one with the beautiful smile,” he presses as the words send a quick giggle out of you. “Attagirl,” he praises as you get lost in his soft brown eyes. He leans over and presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, making your insides coat with tingles at the warmth of him.
   “Thanks for making me feel a little better,” you sigh as you fall into his chest and lean your head into the crook of his neck as he gently runs a hand through your hair, soothing you into a calm state. 
   “I’m sorry about this weekend,” he apologizes as he gently combs his fingers through your hair. 
   “Why are you apologizing? It’s not your fault my parents canceled at the last minute. It’s whatever. I didn’t even want to go that bad anyways,” you pout as you jut your bottom lip out. 
   “Oh, yes you did, sweetheart. I saw how upset you got down there. This trip meant a lot to you, didn’t it?” he asks as he trails his large hand up and down your back repeatedly. 
   “Yeah, it did,” you sigh, letting the thoughts wash out of your head so you don’t get upset again. 
   “What if you could still go?” he asks as your body goes still underneath his touch. 
   “Huh?” you ask as you pull your head up and sit up straight. “Still go? What do you mean?” you ask, confused because the trip had already been canceled. 
   “What if you could still go, would you?” he asks as he pushes a fallen stray curl away from his forehead. 
   You ponder his question, wondering why he’s asking such a silly thing. “Of course I would, but why are you asking?” You raise an eyebrow and look at him curiously, trying to decipher his meaning. 
   “Because,” he starts, straightening out his button-up blue flannel, “what if I take you?”
   Your mouth drops open and your eyes go wide. “What?” you ask with a locked jaw expression, not believing the words that just came out of his mouth. 
   “What if I take you? Just you and me. We could stay the weekend, get a little sun, maybe swim some, explore Galveston.” 
   “You’d do that for me?” you ask with teary eyes as he connects his hand with yours, entwining his fingers with yours as you feel them burn the back of your skin. 
   “I’d do anything to see that pretty smile, sweetheart,” he says with the curl of his lips and the dimple that presses deep into his cheek. 
   He’s so fucking beautiful and sweet and so loving. How did you ever get so lucky?
   “Joel…”
   “Let me take you to Galveston, please. I’d love nothing more, truly,” he says with genuine brown eyes. 
   You start to tear up, vision blurring as the tears lick at the edges of your eyes and start to fall against your cheeks. Joel cups your face with his big hands and wipes away the falling tears with the pads of his thumbs. 
   “Hey, hey. What’s the matter? Why are you cryin’, darlin’?” he asks worriedly as he looks into your eyes intensely, concern lathered in those doe eyes of his. 
   “You’re just… you’re just so good to me, Joel. Why are you so perfect?” you cry out as another hot tear falls from your eyes. Joel catches it with the tip of his thumb and brushes it away effortlessly. 
   “I’m nowhere near perfect,” he chuckles as he keeps his brown eyes on you, “I just know how much the trip meant to you, and there’s no way I’m letting that get taken from you. You wanna go? Then we’re going. I’m not gonna see you disappointed, baby. I’ll take you there myself, and I’m gonna make sure you enjoy every second of it,” he confirms as he drops his hands from your face. 
   You suck in a breath and slam into his broad chest as you wrap your arms tightly around him. “Thank you, thank you, thank you. I love you. God, I love you so much,” you breathe into his ear, feeling one of his hands come to cup the back of your head and the other wrapping around your waist.
   “You’re so welcome. And I love you, too, sweetheart. Never gonna stop,” he says slowly into your ear, making every part of you completely lose it for him. 
   You lift your chin up and slowly plant your lips on his, letting the moment move slow, delicately, passionately. You sink into his weight and let him devour your lips, your tongue, your everything. 
   Joel Miller was the definition of everything, and you’d never ever let him go. 
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   The cool breeze of November blows in a rush through your long locks of hair as you lean your head out the window, the air crisp and smelling of pine trees as you rest your elbows on the edge of the door and enjoy the taste of freedom. The radio hums low through the speakers as you feel Joel’s eyes on your back, feeling his warm smile on your skin as you close your eyes and take in this beautiful moment. 
   The drive to Galveston is relaxing, the sun kissing your skin as you bathe in warm sunlight. Joel taps his thumb against the leather steering wheel along to an AC/DC song that plays quietly throughout the truck. You take a moment to turn toward him, leaning your head on the back of the seat as you admire the beautiful man that sits before you. Tousled curls with grey threaded through his thick locks, a blue flannel that tugs at his muscular biceps, a glowing smile that reflects off the backs of your eyes as you soak him up, painting a pretty picture in your mind that you’ll surely take to your grave. 
   Joel catches you staring and reaches an arm out as he snatches your fingers and pulls your hand up to his plush lips. He grazes his lips against the back of your knuckles and laces his fingers through yours as he pulls your hand into his lap, holding tight as he drives along the vacant highway. 
   You blink twice and smile as you watch him drive, your hand on top of his thigh as he looks over and sees you in a lovesick daze. “What are you smilin’ ‘bout, hmm?” he asks as he smirks your way, arching an eyebrow as he drives along.
   “Oh, no reason. Just can’t believe you’re taking me all the way to Galveston.”
   He squeezes your hand gently and looks over at you as the crow’s feet crinkle around his warm eyes. “Well, believe it, baby. Gotta keep my girl happy. And trust me, I wouldn’t wanna spend the weekend doin’ anythin’ else.”
   You scoot over to his side, unfastening your seatbelt as you nuzzle up into the side of his neck, catching the edge of his greying scruff. He tsks at you as he eyes you with your seatbelt off. “Seatbelt on, baby. Don’t want ya gettin’ hurt.”
   You huff out a response, batting your long eyelashes up at him. “I just wanted to be next to you. Being in the passenger seat was too far away,” you pout.
   He rolls his eyes and sighs, putting a strong arm around you as he hugs you into his side. “You’re a handful, you know that?” You giggle out and he just shakes his head. “Guess you can stay right here, can’t say no to my girl.”
   You beam up at him, reaching up to leave a sweet kiss against his tanned cheek while you wrap your arm around his hip and nuzzle back into the warm, woodsy scent of his flannel. You still can’t believe you’re going to the beach with your boyfriend, your dad’s best friend, and you can’t even fathom how he fell in love with you in the first place, but you’re so glad he did because you think he’s the love of your life. 
   Joel stops on the way to Galveston at Buc-ee’s, and the both of you jump out and grab all your favorite snacks for the long ride. The two of you share a bbq sandwich, grab fountain drinks, a bag of Doritos, beef jerky, and numerous bags of candy. When you’re back in the truck and driving down the long highway, you’re back against Joel’s side and leaning your head on his shoulder while you slowly chew on a piece of salted beef jerky. 
   He leans down and bites off a piece of it which makes your head fall back and laughter flow out the cracked window. Who knew that a simple road trip with your dad’s best friend would be the most exciting thing to happen this year? You never saw it coming, but neither did he. He just made you that happy. You’d be content just sitting by his side, reading a book while he watched a baseball game on tv. It was simple really, you were just that in love with Joel. 
   He takes another bite and hugs you tight against his side while his fingers slowly trail up and down your outer arm, making tingles flow down your spine. “So, what’d you tell your parents? Reckon your mother gave you a mouthful for leavin’ on the weekend you have family comin’ into town,” Joel says as he keeps one hand on the leather steering wheel, his eyes vigilant on the straight road ahead. 
   You sigh, leaning your head on his broad shoulder. “Told them I was having a girl’s trip this weekend in Dallas. My mom was pissed, but she’ll get over it.”
   He nods his head, tongue sliding over his bottom teeth as he eyes you from the corner of his vision. “I’m sure she’ll get over it quick. Besides, how can she stay mad at a pretty face like yours, hmm?” He cups your chin as his calloused fingers slide against your smooth skin, leaning over to give you a quick kiss on your cheek. 
   You smile up at him, your cheeks warming from the golden sun and his soft touch. He really is the sweetest guy you know. “Thanks, Joel. You always know how to cheer me up.”
   “Always here for ya, baby.” He laces his fingers with yours and brings your hand up to his lips while he lays gentle kisses across your dainty knuckles. 
   When he releases your hand to focus on driving again, you pick out a sucker wrapped in pink paper and slowly unfold the sweet treat. You pop it into your mouth slowly and savor the cherry flavor on your tongue. Joel watches you lick at the sucker, your tongue sliding along the see through candy, eyes growing dark when he watches you pop it out of your mouth with drool sticking to the top. 
   He shifts in his seat, eyebrows furrowing together as he smirks your way, a devilish grin spreading across his crooked smile. “That good, huh?” he asks with hooded eyes.
   You smile his way, taking your tongue along the smooth edge as you slowly lick at the cherry flavored sucker. “Sooo good,” you hum as you take it further into your mouth, as far as you can without choking yourself. 
   His jaw clenches, hands tightening on the steering wheel as he drives along, fighting himself from running off the road. “Better stop that now,” he warns, his eyes flickering with dark flecks of temptation as he gazes at you again with little control.
   “Stop what?” you ask innocently, giving the sucker another lick as you stare directly into his smoldering eyes. 
   “Stop fuckin’ teasin’ me. You tryin’ to kill me?” he murmurs as you eye the hardening cock against his jeans. Oh yeah, you were going to have fun with this. 
   “Not trying to kill you, handsome. Just having some fun,” you tease. 
   He sighs, raking a hand slowly down his grey threaded scruff. “You’re trouble, sweetheart. A little tease is what you are.”
   “Oh, I know,” you giggle. 
   You lean over and lick your tongue up the side of his neck, tasting the salt of sweat and a hint of mahogany cologne. You taste him. 
   “Christ,” Joel groans as he grips the steering wheel even harder. “You’re gonna make me pull this truck over if you’re not careful, I mean it,” he warns, his voice thick and gravelly against the pinch of temptation. 
   “You’re not gonna pull over. You’re gonna keep driving with your eyes on the road while I do this.” You palm him through his jeans, feeling just how hard he is as he groans through his gnashed teeth. 
   “Now, sweetheart. Jus’ hold on there.” He tries to pry your hand off, but you don’t move an inch. 
   “Joel, I’ve wanted to do this for years. Please, let me make you feel good. Rather suck on your cock than this lollipop.” You give another innocent lick to the pink sucker and bat your long eyelashes at him, giving him the prettiest smile you can muster up. 
   He ticks his jaw, eyebrows molding together while he drags a huff out. “Alright, alright. Jus’ don’t go wild. I need to concentrate on the road.”
   “Noted,” you wink, watching him grit his teeth together as he watches you slowly unzip his denim jeans, pulling his boxers down while his hard cock springs up and hits his soft tummy. 
   You revel at how thick and long he is, wrapping a hand around him to slowly slide up and down his shaft, spreading the leaking precum over his entirety. He groans at your slow motions, eyes blowing out as he watches you sink down to his lap while your mouth closes over him.
   “Fuckkk,” he groans as you bob your head up and down his shaft, hovering down to where his tip is kissing the back of your throat, making you choke and drool all over his weeping cock. He shifts beneath you, hands cemented to the steering wheel as he fights to keep his eyes on the road instead of at your pretty mouth around his thick length. 
   You gather your spit and fist him in your hand, moaning while you hear the wet, sticky noises of your fingers working him nice and good up and down repeatedly. You feel your own slick gathering in your panties, an ache you’re desperate to alleviate. You slide your left hand under the lace, circling your throbbing clit while you moan his name, still working him up and down with your hand. 
   “Oh for fuck’s sake,” he growls, watching you get yourself off with your own fingers. “If I wasn’t in the middle of the highway, I’d pull this truck over and have you spread across my lap while I finished the job.”
   “Yeah?” you whine, fingers curling up inside yourself while your thumb presses down on your pulsing bundle of nerves. 
   “Oh yeah, sweetheart. Better believe I’m takin’ care of you later. You brought what I asked, right?”
   “Mhm,” you hum, feeling yourself about to spill inside your denim shorts. 
   “Attagirl. Gonna get you all nice and wet with my fingers, my tongue. Gonna tie you to the bedpost and give you what you deserve. Gonna make my girl come so hard that we’ll need new sheets before the night is through,” he growls with gritted teeth. 
   “Joel,” you moan, feeling a white hot sensation flow through your body before your panties are ruined with your release, continuing to stroke him while you come down from the blissful high of an orgasm. 
   “That’s my good fuckin’ girl,” he praises. You’re absolutely drenched from his dirty words.
   You take a minute to come back to the present while your eyes glaze over, feeling his pulsing cock beneath your fingers while you work him up and down slowly. You lean over and glide the tip of your tongue up the underside of his cock where a large vein guides you forward. He groans, his fingers flexing on the steering wheel while you work your magic. 
   Suddenly, Joel stills beneath you, hearing his phone buzz deep in his pocket. He curses under his breath and reaches one hand in, grabbing up his vibrating phone as his eyes blow wide. 
   “It’s your father,” he mutters, knitting his eyebrows together as he answers the phone. “Hey, George. What’s up?” he says casually, motioning for you to stop while he talks on the phone. 
   You still your hand, keeping it wrapped firmly around the base, brushing the end of your nose through his coarse, wiry hairs, breathing him deep as you get intoxicated off his manly musk.
   “Beers at your house tonight? Sorry, bud. I’m actually out of town this weekend.” 
   You hear your dad on the other end sighing, can almost see him rolling his eyes. You know he misses his best friend, but right now he’s a bit tied up with you. 
   “M’sorry. It was a bit last minute, but I’m goin’ to the lake with Sarah.”
   You listen to Joel and your dad carry on the conversation, one hand on the steering wheel tight while he balances the phone on his shoulder. You know he’s trying not to break while he’s on the phone, but you just can’t help yourself. 
   You lick a thick stripe up the underside of his cock, flicking your tongue in slow circles around his swollen red tip as he hisses through his teeth. He glares at you, but you just smile sweetly up at him as you dive back in. 
   You take him deep in your mouth, feeling the salty precum slide down your throat as you choke on him again and again. He grabs the back of your hair, letting you work him over, swallowing your own moans with his thick length. 
   You take him deeper, choking on him while you make the most obscene gagging noises around his cock. “Ahh fuck,” he growls through his teeth as he looks down with blown out black eyes. “Oh, sorry. Jus’ lifted somethin’ a little too heavy for me. Guess I couldn’t quite handle it,” he mutters while his fingers grab your hair harder. 
   He pushes you down further, rutting his hips up while you choke again and again on his cock, letting him deepthroat you as your drool and spit coat him in wetness. 
   “Yeah, that’s right. Mhm, feels fuckin’ great at the lake. Not too cold, not too hot, jus’ right,” he grits through his teeth, fisting your locks in his hand as he drags your mouth up and down him, mouth fucking him intensely. You’re nearly drowning in him.
   “Mhm. Tuesday. I’m gonna come. On Tuesday, right,” he pants out, teeth gritted together as he pushes your head down hard and blows his load inside your hollowed out cheeks. 
   You swallow him down, barely able to take all the hot ropes of cum as some leaks out of your mouth. He curses under his breath and hits the back of his head on the headrest, broad chest heaving while you clean him up and lap up all the excess cum and drool on his messy cock. When you’re done cleaning him and his cock is softening, you fold it back into his boxers and pull his jeans back up, zipping them up for Joel.
   He takes deep breaths, listening to the last few words your dad tells him on the phone. He seems uninterested in whatever your dad has to say, his eyes only watching you now. They’re glazed over, dark flecks shining in the sunlight as he looks at you with love in his eyes. It makes your heartbeat pick up and kick against your chest. 
   “Alright, George. Sounds good. Have a good weekend. See ya Tuesday.” He clicks the phone off and shoves it in his pocket while his hand trails back over to you. His eyes find yours, and they look so beautiful in the rays of sunshine that glow through the window. 
   “You messy, messy girl. Goin’ down on me when I’m tryin’ to drive, when I’m on the phone with your father. You’re such a mess, baby,” he chuckles as he settles a large palm on the top of your head, gently running his fingers softly through your long locks. 
   “Mhm. I’ve always wanted to do that for you. And now I can say I have,” you giggle. 
   “Christ. How’d I get so lucky with you, hmm?” he smiles, watching you turn on your side and laying your head in his lap while one of your arms wraps around his thigh. 
   “The question is how’d I get so lucky with you? I’ve wanted you for so long, and now I finally have you all to myself. Almost doesn’t seem real, you know?”
   You hear him hum while his thick fingers curl against your shoulder. “I know what ya mean, sweetheart. It’s real, though. You’re mine, and I’m not lettin’ you go. You’re stuck with me, pretty girl.”
   “Fine with me, cowboy,” you smile.
   He chuckles out, the weight of his laughter echoing through your heart. “I love you, sweetheart.”
   “And I love you, Joel Miller.”
   He smiles down at you as you situate yourself in his lap, closing your eyes to take a nap. Maybe when you wake up you’ll see the surf and sand of Galveston before your eyes. 
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   After you check into the lavish hotel and place your bags in your suite, you and Joel both throw on your swimsuits and grab some beach towels. You settle into a dark teal bikini, and Joel almost matches you with light blue swim trunks. He looks so good, so broad with his tanned chest almost glistening in the sun, his large muscles flexing every time he moves. He looks like a masterpiece. 
   Just when you almost get lost in your fantasies in your mind, Joel pulls you right back out. “I’ll race ya to the beach,” he smirks as he pulls open the back sliding door that leads to a winding staircase down to the beach.
   “Bet I can beat you,” you giggle as you push him in the shoulder and race past him, barreling down the sturdy steps as you hear him laughing uncontrollably behind you. 
   “Cheater,” he laughs with a gravelly tone, “pushed right past me.”
   You turn your face his way and stick your tongue out playfully. “Come catch me, slow poke,” you giggle. That just makes him sprint faster toward you.
   You take off in the warm sand, your heart beating wildly inside your chest as you run toward the blue crashing waves of the ocean. You turn your head back around quickly and scream when you see him right on your heels.
   “C’mere, pretty girl,” he chuckles. One more step and he’s picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder while you squeak and try to escape. 
   “Joel, put me down!” you laugh, using every bit of strength in you to break free of his hold, but it’s no use. He’s got you in a tight embrace. 
   “Ain’t puttin’ you down jus’ yet, baby. Nah, gonna jus’ take ya for a little dip in the water.”
   “Joel Miller, put me down this instant!” you squeak as he squeezes the backs of your thighs, taking off into the thick sand. 
   “Nah, sweetheart. Ain’t gonna do that.” 
   You hear the crash of waves before you see them, and then he’s throwing you into the salty water while your head gets completely covered in the cold water. You make your way quickly up to the surface and rub the salt out of your eyes, yelling at Joel playfully while he laughs in the near distance. 
   Once you see him you start splashing him in the face with the cold water, watching his hair get completely soaked with his tousled curls slicked back with big droplets of salt water framing his face. “Now who’s winning!” you shout gleefully. 
   “Oh, so you wanna be like that? Okay, baby. Two can play at that game.” He starts splashing you right back while you turn your head and avoid the salt water getting in your eyes. 
   It’s a water fight in the best possible way, you and Joel going back and forth seeing who can make the biggest splash and who can get the most soaked. A fit of giggles leave your mouths while the sunshine warms your dripping shoulders. It goes on for minutes, the playful water fight until Joel comes up behind you and wraps his strong arms around your waist. 
   “C’mere,” he chuckles. He spins you around and pins you to his chest while his lips find yours hungrily. You melt into the kiss, fingers twisting through his dripping curls, him slotting his tongue into your mouth as you taste the salty flavor of the ocean and him. 
   You squeak when he picks you up, legs wrapping around his hips as one of his hands locks you to him. You rest your forehead on his, your lips curved into a warm smile as you take in the salt water that covers his tanned skin. “Thanks for taking me here, Joel,” you whisper against his mouth. 
   “Anytime, darlin’. Anytime.” 
   You wrap your arms around his neck and let him hold you up in the water, keeping your body flush to his chest. You both turn your attention to the horizon, watching the gentle blue waves lap against the water, focusing on the afternoon glow of the sun, the graceful seagulls flying overhead, your own beating heart mixing with Joel’s. 
   It’s moments like this that you can never take for granted. Being at the beach with your lover, not having to sneak around under the nose of your reluctant father, being at one of your favorite places in Texas. It’s all surreal, almost fictional. You’re one hell of a lucky girl, and you know that. God, you know that. 
   You rest your head on Joel’s shoulder and feel him kiss the top of your head slowly, his lips grazing against your drenched hair. “This is so peaceful, Joel,” you breathe, sighing into the scruff of his jaw. 
   “Mhm, it sure is. Haven’t been down here in a while. You know Sarah was jealous, right?”
   You giggle and look up at him, catching the sunlight strike his dazzling honey colored eyes. “You told her you were coming here?”
   “Yeah. Guess it was a mistake ‘cause she threw a fit, but she got over it. Told her I wanted a little alone time with my girl.”
   You smile and nod in understanding. “Glad she took it well.”
   “Me too. She kept askin’ when we were gonna tell your folks about us,” he sighs, one hand raking down the curve of his jaw, thick fingers catching water droplets from his greying beard. 
   You huff and sink back into his chest. “I don’t even want to think about that. I mean eventually we’ll have to, but not today. Not this month, or year. Maybe next year,” you sigh while your nails scratch against the back of his tousled curls. 
   “Whenever you want, baby. M’not in a rush either. Whenever you feel like the right time is, we’ll tell ‘em together. I’ll be right there by your side, no matter what happens. M’not goin’ anywhere, even if your father hates me after. I’m yours. Always.” He brushes his lips over your cheekbone, and it sends butterflies flitting through your lower regions. The man always knew how to get you. 
   You stay in the cool, salty water just a little longer, going back and forth from floating on your back to being in Joel’s arms. No one else is in the water or on the beach, it’s just you and Joel. Your own island paradise for the weekend. 
   You bathe in the beauty of it all. The salty air breezing across your hair, sun kissed skin soaking in every bit of ray of sunshine the sky graces you, Joel standing behind you with his lips brushing against your collarbone, his deep hums sending sparks of lightning through your core. You never want to leave this place, never want to leave him. You’ll just stay in the moment for as long as you can.  
   “Joel?”
   “Hmm?” He hums as he kisses your neck sweetly, his other hand dancing along the bikini line as his thick fingers play with the teal material by your hip bone. 
   “Promise me this isn’t just a dream and that I’m not gonna wake up tomorrow with you gone.”
   He chuckles behind you, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he whispers in his deep, gruff voice you so love. “S’not a dream, baby. It’s real, I’m real. And I can promise you I ain’t goin’ anywhere.”
   You sink your weight into his broad chest, his finger cupping your chin with his calloused fingers. He tips your head backwards and meets your lips with his, letting him soak you in all his sunshine and salty presence while you float off on a cloud into paradise. This is heaven, Joel is heaven. You don’t think you’ll ever get enough of him. 
   After half an hour of basking in the beautiful ocean, you decide to get out and lay in the sand for a while. You drag your feet through the damp sand, body relaxed and tired from the ocean water. You spot your towels laid out together, yours pink and Joel’s dark blue. But before you can reach them you feel Joel catch your hips while he envelops you in his warm hold, dragging you down to the sand as his weight topples over you. He pins your wrists to the warm sand while he holds himself over you. 
   “Got you,” he chuckles, hovering over you with his tousled curls dripping salt water all over your chest. 
   “Joel!” you laugh as you erupt into a fit of giggles. “Didn’t realize we were still playing.” 
   “Mmm, found the perfect opportunity to take you down again. Couldn’t resist,” he chuckles. 
   “Silly old man,” you tease.
   “Old man, huh? Ain’t old enough to do this,” he laughs, sinking his body against yours while his lips crash into you. 
   You melt into his lips, your fingers running through his tousled curls that smell of salty water and mahogany, the two mixing together to form a scent you breathe into your lungs and get lost in. His tongue dances with yours, his rough hands gliding against the curve of your hips as he slithers his way between your legs. 
   You stay like that for minutes just breathing each other in, getting lost in the hungry kisses, the panting breaths that sound in tune with the lapping waves against the shoreline. It all feels like a dream, but this is real, and it’s the most perfect day with your ridiculously hot boyfriend. 
   He nips at your bottom lip, slowly releasing his mouth as he hovers back over you. When you open your eyes, you gasp. The way the warm sun beams down over him makes him look angelic, a bright light surrounding him as you look into those beautiful honey eyes, the dark flecks reflecting off your own. God, he looks so beautiful, so exquisite. You could stare at him every second of every day if you got the chance to. 
   Your fingers brush over his grey threaded beard, lips parting in awe as you smile up at him. His lips curve into a warm smile that makes your toes curl, and his eyes crinkle down at you while one of his hands grazes against your jawline. 
   “You’re so beautiful, sweetheart. You know that?” he asks, affection spilling off his Southern drawl while he traces your bottom lip with the tip of his thumb. 
   “You tell me all the time, handsome,” you smile, eliciting a groan from his mouth as you drag your fingers against the scruff of the back of his neck. 
   “You deserve to be told every single second of every day, sweetheart. And I’ll do that, over and over again. Even if you get tired of it, I’ll keep at it. ‘Cause you deserve the world, so let me give it to you.”
   Your mouth drops open, your heart in your throat. You’re so stunned that you can barely say anything but run your fingers through his hair, a wide smile splayed over your face as you gaze into the eyes of the love of your life. 
   “Joel Miller, never knew you were such a romantic at heart,” you smile, lazing into those crystal clear dark eyes. 
   “Always been a romantic, baby. Guess I jus’ didn’t have anyone to show it to. But now, there’s you. So let me shower you in it. Got many years to make up for it,” he chuckles. 
   You drag his face down to yours, pressing your lips flush against his until you sink back into him, reveling in his touch, his kiss, his everything while the sun slowly slips against your ocean kissed skin. You swallow his essence, inviting him in while his tongue swirls feverishly around yours. It’s like you’re in the middle of a cute little romance movie, but this is your reality. This is real.
   He drags one of your bikini straps down, slipping his fingers underneath the silky teal top, grazing against the underside of your breast. “Joel, stop,” you groan. “This isn’t a nude beach,” you laugh. 
   “There ain’t nobody around, darlin’. Jus’ let me do one thing, yeah?” he asks while you silently nod your head in approval. 
   He drags one of your cups free, burying his face in your chest as he takes the flat of his tongue and gently swirls around your pebbled breast. You groan into the shell of his ear while his other hand lightly feathers against the folds of your already soaked center. 
   “Joel,” you warn, wrapping your arms around his salt covered neck as he nips up your collarbone. He slips a hand beneath your bikini bottoms and starts to slowly circle your puffy clit, eliciting a moan that falls like a melody against the curve of his ear. 
   “Yeah? That feel good, darlin’?” he asks, feeling just how drenched you are beneath your bikini. He presses harder against your aching bud, pulling you dangerously close to spilling over him as you feel a cold wave hit the backs of your feet.  
   “Joel, fuck - you’re gonna make me…”
   “Make you come? Go on, gorgeous. Spill for me. Know you want to,” he purrs, his calloused fingers swirling swiftly around your bundle of nerves until you dig your fingers into the scruff of his neck and moan his name intensely while he elicits a long, amazing orgasm from you. Your body jolts at the aftershocks, coming down from your high as cum spills all over your teal bikini. 
   “Attagirl,” he praises, working you through your orgasm, then slipping his fingers inside his mouth to clean them off properly. He groans at the taste of you, savoring the flavor against his tongue. 
   He leans back and looks at you, glistening tanned skin and chocolate coated eyes you want to melt in. He’s absolutely stunning. “Joel Miller getting me off on the beach?” you smirk as you raise an eyebrow at him.
   “Mhm, couldn’t wait to get back to the room. Had to get a taste and repay you for the favor you did for me in the truck.” He winks at you, and you can’t help but laugh and roll him over into the sand. You climb on top of his chest and drape your arms over his broad shoulders while he brings his large hands up to rub your back softly. 
   “You’re the best, Miller. Best I ever had,” you smile as you rest your chin on his tanned chest. 
   “Mmm, think you’re the best, sweetheart. Never met a girl that got me quite like you do. You’re somethin’ else.”
   He takes one of his fingertips and traces a heart in the sand, writing out your initials and drawing an arrow through the heart with a lovesick look in those pools of honey. You gawk at him, almost tearing up when you see how mesmerized he looks hovering over your initial, like it’s the most important thing in the world to him.
   “There. Now it’s our beach. Jus’ yours and mine, baby. It’s written in the sand,” he lulls warmly.
   You smile down at him, placing your hand against the soft scruff of his jaw and turn his face toward yours. You part your lips, almost speechless as words start to fail you. Joel really was a romantic after all. Your perfect, romantic, endearing boyfriend.
   “Joel Miller. You amaze me every single day. And God, I’m just so in love with you,” you muse.
   “Sweetheart, it’s me that’s so in love with you. Never gonna stop. It’s written in the sand, in the ocean, in the stars even. You’re mine, baby. All mine,” he whispers, staring up at you with the most endearing brown eyes you’ve ever seen. Everything about this moment is magical.
     You gaze into the warmth of his honey eyes and play with his tousled curls, running your fingers through the soft locks as you get lost in his gaze. You stay like that another hour, listening to the lapping waves of the ocean, soaking up the warm sun, getting hopelessly lost in his mahogany and salt water scent. He’s got you wrapped around his finger, just like he is with you. 
   After a while, Joel helps you up off the sand and leads you across the shoreline. He takes your hand in his and guides you through the lapping water, taking in the salty breeze of the sea and the picturesque vision of you and him walking along the coast. It’s so romantic, so very special, and it feels so right. His strong hand in yours, him smiling down at you with those beautiful brown eyes, and his smile that sends you over the edge every single time. It’s all just so breathtaking. 
   Maybe this was fate after all, maybe you were meant to be on this beach with Joel the whole time. It sure seems like it now. You realize why it never worked with anyone else. It’s because Joel Miller was always the one. You just didn’t know it then, but you do now. He’s the one for you. Your forever. 
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   After you and Joel have showered and thrown on white silky robes, you sit on the balcony and watch the sunset paint the sky purple and amber colors. You lean into Joel on the reclining chair, letting his fingertips trace up and down your arms slowly while his lips brush against the shell of your ear. 
   “Beautiful, isn’t it?” you ask, watching the waves slowly lap against the sand while he murmurs in your ear.
   “Mhm, gorgeous.” He grazes his lips against your cheek and whispers sweet words into your ear. “You wanna go back inside? Let me make love to my girl,” he whispers as he trails another kiss over your cheek. 
   You spin around and smile down at him. “Okay, handsome. What’d you have in mind?” you giggle. 
   He smirks up at you and chuckles. “You remember when we were watchin’ Scream on Halloween night, and I asked about the whole handcuff thing?”
   You raise your eyebrows in question and nod. “Yeah, what about it?”
   “Well, don’t exactly have the handcuffs, but that black silk ribbon I asked you to bring? Gonna use that to tie you to the headboard. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart. That what you want?” he asks with a long Southern drawl, eyes darkening as he speaks to you in a deep voice. 
   You gulp and nod your head. “Okay, daredevil. Take me to bed then,” you whisper into the shell of his ear. 
   He wastes no time and hauls you up, cradling you in his strong arms as he makes his way through the sliding glass door, closing it with the heel of his foot. “On the bed for me, naked,” he instructs as you fully oblige. 
   The room is massive, marble countertops and fancy light fixtures filling the room. The room is dim, only a couple of lamps on as the luminescent dark blue walls cover the space. The king sized bed is pristine, white sheets with fluffy pillows covering the top of the bed. The headboard is made of light wood, and a small fireplace crackles underneath the 70 inch flat screen tv in the center of the room. 
   You slip off your robe, crawling onto the plush bed while Joel watches with wide eyes, grabbing a couple things from your pink suitcase that sits in the corner of the room. His eyes stay locked on yours, especially when you spread your legs wide and show him the sticky mess already building up over your warm core. 
   He licks his lips, dragging a hand slowly over his mouth while he feasts on your naked body. “Look at you, baby girl. Already so wet and ready for me. Christ, you’re a fuckin’ vision,” he purrs, leaning against the edge of the bed just mesmerized at the perfection that splays in front of him. 
   You smile, bedroom eyes slipping over his tanned form, and he knows exactly what that means. He crawls over you, pushing your legs further apart with his knees and catching your wrists above your head. “Stay still for me, sweetheart. Gonna tie you up now.”
   You stay still, letting him collect your wrists above your head, gently tying the black silk ribbon against the headboard. You almost moan, feeling his thigh brush against your clit as he sits back to assess his work. “You okay? Not too tight?” he asks with concerned brown eyes. 
   “Feels perfect, Joel,” you smile, giving him a mischievous smirk while your foot hikes his robe up his tanned thigh. “Gonna take that off, Miller?”
   He chuckles, untying the belt slowly and then ripping it off his body as it goes crashing to the floor. You gawk at him, watching his cock twitch before you, already hardening as he assesses your bare body before him. 
   “Look at my man. So handsome, tan, big, all mine,” you giggle. 
   “Mmm, all yours, gorgeous. Now breathe for me. Wanna try somethin’,” he murmurs with darkening eyes. 
   You see him spread your thighs more, trailing kisses up your inner thighs and brushing his nose through your folds, dragging it over your sensitive clit and ending in the soft curls above your mound. 
   He gives you a devilish grin and then licks a long, thick stripe up your core, sending a moan falling from your lips as he drinks in the taste of you. “Taste so fuckin’ sweet, baby girl,” he groans, licking the slick from his lips slowly. “Now, for the fun part. Think you’re gonna love this,” he smiles. 
   He reaches behind his back and grabs the vibrator that was sitting underneath your clothes in your suitcase. He turns the power on, starting it slow as the buzzing noise fills the width of the room. Before he brings it to your center, he hovers it just over your clit as he speaks. “Take a deep breath. Gonna start it slow.”
   Your breath falters when he places the end of the vibrator on your clit, pressing down and massaging slow circles across your bundle of nerves. “Fuck, Joel,” you whine, letting him revel in your long, drawn out moans.
   “Attagirl, feels good don’t it?” he chuckles, watching the way your lips part and eyes blow wide. 
   “Yeah, it feels - ohhhhh,” you moan, feeling him slip two digits into your dripping hole, working them nice and slow, curling up into the spongy wall that makes you lose control. 
   “That’s it, sweetheart. Let’s take it up a notch, shall we?” he smirks. 
   He switches the settings, powering the vibrator to a more intense level that has your legs shaking uncontrollably. He shifts his knee, pinning your thigh down so he can see the spasming movements of your ruined pussy. 
   His eyes expand into black pits, tongue licking against his bottom lip while he assesses the damage he does to your soaked core. He watches the way the slick runs down his knuckles, fingers fucking deep into your drenched pussy, obscene squelching noises and melodic moans filling the room. He’s never heard anything more beautiful in his entire life.
   He presses down harder on your throbbing clit, the buzzing motion of the vibrator making you squirm beneath his calloused fingers. “Joel, I’m so close. I’m so - oh,” you writhe, hearing the wet noises of him fucking your pussy with his thick fingers faster and faster, feeling him coaxing you on each time his fingertips kiss that perfect spongy spot that makes you black out. 
   “That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praises, pressing downward on the vibrator and opening a whole new sensation that makes you form your lips into a wide O, white hot heat sliding down the edge of your spine.
   “Oh fuck, I’m gonna come,” you whine, fusing your eyebrows together and choking on a moan. 
   “Come for me, beautiful. Make a mess on these fingers,” he coaxes. 
   One more brush of the vibrator and curl of his thick fingers and you’re gone. You moan his name, twisting your fingers into the silky ribbon as you feel the rush of bliss blow over you. You release for him, spilling all over his fingers, along with another wave of pleasure that overcomes you. You feel yourself squirt, watch yourself coat his broad chest, the scruff of his jaw with the slick that just keeps flowing. 
   “Oh, Jesus Christ you’re so fuckin’ perfect, baby. There she goes. Jus’ keeps on comin’. Fuckin’ drenchin’ me,” he purrs all mesmerized and hypnotic while he talks you through it. 
   “Yeah, that’s it. That’s a good girl,” he praises, turning the vibrator off while he collects slick against your glistening mound. He slides his fingers from your insides, popping his soaked digits into his mouth, groaning from the taste of you. 
   “Joel, that was incredible,” you pant, coming back to your body after the intense orgasm washes through you.
   “Yeah? Well, I ain’t done with you yet, sweetheart,” he teases, a crooked smile forming over his beautiful face. 
   “Not yet?” you ask, laughing.
   “Not yet,” he confirms with a glint in his blown out eyes. 
   Your eyes look down, staring at the large erection between his legs. His cock is thick, the head red and swollen while precum leaks down his shaft. You go wide-eyed, licking your lips as you gaze hungrily at him. 
   “Joel,” you whine.
   “What do ya need, baby girl? Use your words.”
   You strain against your bindings, panting desperately, trying to show him how badly you need him between your thighs. “Your cock. Need you inside, please,” you beg.
   “Don’t gotta beg for me, darlin’. It’s all yours, I’m all yours,” he smiles. 
   He brings your legs over his shoulders, crawling between your thighs as he stretches you wide, cock gliding against your folds, collecting slick on his angry tip. You groan at the feeling of him, the tingling sensation his cock gives as it slides against your wetness. 
   “You ready for me?” he asks, brushing over your clit once more as you stifle a moan.
   “Mhm,” you hum.
   “Okay, baby girl. Deep breath for me,” he instructs. 
   He pushes into you, stretching you wide as his thick cock fills you to the brim. You pant, writhing beneath him while he starts a slow rhythm of going back and forth, his grunts becoming savage like when he talks you through it. 
   “There ya go, sweetheart. Takin’ me so good, jus’ like you always do,” he grunts out, his large hands caging you against him. 
   You want so badly to be able to run your hands through his hair, want to scratch your nails down the tanned skin of his back, feel the sweat building on his sculpted skin. Being tied up is hot, and something about not being in control right at this moment is really turning you on, but you also want to just be able to really feel him. 
   He sees you struggling with your wrists, pulling against the black silk while you pant out his name through every brush of his cock against your tight walls. He stills his thrusts, giving you a concerned look as he takes you in. “You okay, sweetheart? Is it too tight? Too much?” he asks with a soft voice.
   “I just… This is really hot, Joel. But I kind of just want my hands free so I can touch you,” you say with glossy eyes. 
   He chuckles, nodding his head in understanding. “That’s all you had to say, sweetheart. Here, let me jus’ fix this real quick.” His arms go over your head, carefully untying your hands from the polished headboard. He throws the black silk ribbon on the nightstand and situates himself over you again, all while still being inside you. “Better?” he asks, a crooked smile draping over the curve of his mouth. 
   You throw your arms around his neck and let out a sigh of relief as your fingers scratch up the tousled curls on the back of his neck. “Better,” you smile. 
   “Now, let me get back to makin’ love to my girl,” he says with eyes that smother over with darkening irises. 
   He ruts back into you, speeding up his thrusts as his lips come down to meet yours. You part your lips and let him slot in, drowning out your moans with the slide of his tongue as he licks feverishly inside your mouth. You twist your fingers through his sandy colored curls, eliciting a grunt from his lips as your nail beds dig across his scalp. 
   He moves his lips down to your neck, teeth scraping along your collarbone, sucking against the sensitive areas all while his large palms cup your breasts, pebbling your nipples with every stroke of his calloused thumbs. 
   “Oh, right there,” you whine, feeling his cock reach that certain spongy spot that you can never reach yourself.
   “Yeah, feel good?” he purrs along the shell of your ear, licking his tongue along the edge of it. “How ‘bout this?” he says with a devilish grin, eyes blowing wide with dark black pits. 
   “Fuck,” you moan, feeling his thumb draw meticulous circles across your swollen clit while his cock kisses the back of your cervix, spreading wet, obscene noises around the glow of the room as his balls slap frantically against your sweaty skin. 
   You dig your nails into the back of his shoulder blades as Joel folds you like a pancake and ruts deep inside you, his cock drenched in your sticky slick. Your walls squeeze him as you feel the hot heat slide down your spine. You’re so close to spilling.
   “Come on, baby. Know you’re close. Want you to come for me, sweetheart. Come on my cock. Attagirl,” he praises as he sees your eyebrows thread together, your body quivering beneath him. 
   He slides his thumb in slow circles over your buzzing clit, cock hitting your spongy wall again and again and again until you can’t hold back any longer. You squeeze his thick cock, moaning his name as white hot heat takes control of your body. You feel yourself start to spill, covering Joel in your blissful orgasm that coats him in your slick.
   “Attagirl, baby. Such a good fuckin’ girl,” he praises, talking you through your high as your body starts to come down from sweet release. 
   He pushes your legs further apart, cock working swiftly in and out of your core as he chases his own release. “Oh yeah, fuck me,” he growls, thrusting in and out faster and faster until he’s furrowing his eyebrows together and clenching his jaw, spilling hot ropes of cum inside you till he collapses at your side and pulls you flush to his chest. 
   You both pant out in exhaustion, sheets soaked from the sweat of skin on skin, bodies tangled together as he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear and smiles warmly over at you. “Did so good for me, baby. Always do so good,” he praises, leaving a gentle kiss on your cheek as you take in the starry flecks of amber brown of his dreamy eyes.
   “Thanks for showing me something new. Never knew I could be so into bondage,” you tease, smirking his way with flirtatious eyes he can’t seems to look away from.
   “Mmm, we’ll jus’ have to explore those kinks together then, yeah?”
   You giggle while you run a hand through his messy curls, taking in this beautiful moment of you and Joel on a weekend getaway together. It feels so natural, so right being here with him. You guess it’s just always felt like this ever since starting this whole thing with him.
   After a few minutes of just staring at one another mesmerized, Joel traces his thumb across your bottom lip and smiles gently at you. “You wanna know the first thing I noticed about you when I met you?” he asks quietly.
   “What?” you laugh gently, placing your palm over the top of his hand.
   “Your eyes. Never saw such beautiful eyes before. And your smile. God, that gorgeous smile. Thought I was seein’ an angel the first time you looked at me.”
   Your breath gets caught in your throat, the outside waves being muted from the man that lies in front of you. “Joel… that’s so… wow,” you whisper breathlessly.
   “Think I was in love before we even started dating, sweetheart. If I’m bein’ honest with myself, I should’ve known all along. You’re exactly the woman I’ve been lookin’ for. You’re so beautiful and smart and kind. I’m jus’ so… fuck, I jus’ love you a lot.”
   Your mouth drops open, a gasp leaving your throat as you stare at him like a lovesick puppy. You’re almost too overwhelmed right now with tears licking the backs of your eyes. “Joel Miller, you sweet, sweet man. I never thought… I only dreamed that this could all be real. I never knew it’d turn into this. But I’m so crazy about you, and I love you so so much.”
   His eyes tear up, brown syrupy flecks glistening back at you in the starry moonlight. He looks so happy and so in love that your heart swells like a balloon in your chest. “Thank you again for taking me to Galveston. You’re the best, Miller,” you smile, fingers entwining with his. 
   “You’re welcome, sweetheart. I’d take you here anytime. Jus’ say the words, I’ll take you anywhere. As long as I get to be with my girl, that’s enough for me,” he smiles.
   You pull him in for a long kiss, getting lost in the scent of the ocean breeze and the woodsy scent of his cologne. This may last forever, it may not, but you’re going to enjoy the ride for as long as it lasts. 
Tags: @untamedheart81 @amyispxnk @sawymredfox @bbyanarchist @vividispunk @mrslawrencealbarn @pedrossl4t @pedroswife69 @sarap-77 @casa-boiardi @princesatracionera @msjarvis
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geneviveleocardius · 5 days ago
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könig and his way of loving you
but his reserved, shy, original self
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könig’s love is gentle, sincere, and wrapped in vulnerability. he’s shy, uncertain, and often overwhelmed by his own emotions. but once he lets you in, his love is unwavering. he’s not one to demand attention or grand gestures, but his care is profound. his protection comes from a quiet, almost innocent place, where he’s constantly trying to balance his own insecurities with his need to keep you safe and cherished.
he’s drawn to your lips—soft, vulnerable, and just the right height for him to brush his own against them. even when you’re not speaking, he feels a pull toward that intimate connection.
könig is hesitant but gradually becomes more comfortable as he grows closer to you. his hands often rest on your arms, your back, or your thighs—places that feel safe and grounding for him. he likes holding your hands, his large, rough hands enveloping yours, as if anchoring himself to you.
his kisses are shy but full of emotion. he starts slow—soft, hesitant, barely brushing against your skin—but the more comfortable he becomes, the more passionate they become. his kisses are often brief, but filled with longing. he’ll often shy away afterward, cheeks flushed, unsure of whether he should have done more.
quality time and physical touch. könig shows his love by being present—whether it’s sitting in silence, holding you close, or simply being near. his touch is gentle, and he’s constantly seeking reassurance that you’re there and you care for him too.
on your period he’s incredibly considerate and sweet. könig doesn’t really know how to navigate these moments at first, but once you show him what helps, he’s attentive. he’ll fetch you whatever you need, hold you close, and make sure you feel comforted. he’s awkward, but deeply caring, always apologizing for not knowing what to do but trying his best anyway.
he’s often flustered when you offer to help. he struggles to balance his pride with the vulnerability he feels when you’re close. you’ll often have to hold his hands or encourage him through workouts, but he’s bashful about it, his large frame trembling slightly with effort and embarrassment. but beneath his shyness, he truly appreciates the support.
his jealousy is quiet and subtle. könig won’t get angry or aggressive, but he’ll withdraw, growing quieter and more distant. he’s afraid of being overlooked or unworthy of your attention, so his jealousy comes from a place of insecurity. he’ll often seek reassurance afterward, quietly asking, “do you still love me?”
only when it comes from fear—fear of losing you. his possessiveness is subtle, almost subconscious. he’ll want to hold you close, subtly leaning over you or resting his hand on your waist when you’re around others, but he’ll never be overtly controlling. his devotion to you is quiet, but it runs deep.
he’s aware of his height, but not in a boastful way. he’ll lean down to speak softly in your ear, his breath warm against your skin, his large hands cupping your face when he kisses you. he likes resting his forehead against yours, seeking closeness without needing to say much.
könig’s mask becomes a barrier that only you can break through. there’s something intimate about the moments when he pulls his mask down, hesitant but craving that connection. his kisses are tender, his hands trembling slightly as he reaches up to touch your face. he feels vulnerable, his shyness amplified, but he trusts you enough to let you see him.
intimacy with könig is slow, deliberate, and filled with quiet intensity. he’s careful not to overwhelm you, but he’s deeply passionate in his own way. he likes to watch you, studying your reactions, always worried he might be too much—but his love is pure and sincere. he prefers soft, lingering touches and quiet whispers.
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yourlittlebunnyy · 4 months ago
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a court of shadows and darkness
main masterlist - azriel masterlist - previous
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chapter six
summary: Selaene, Rhysand's sister, Azriel's mate runs away after the High Lord of Spring tries to kill her.
warnings: none
enjoy! 🖤
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When the Fae's bare feet touch the ground, when her bare arms come in contact with the frigid winter air, Selaene is not worried.
But when she allows herself to open her eyes again, eager to see that world she has waited so long for, a scream of pain tears through her lungs. She has never experienced anything like it: such pain in her eyes that she thinks they are on fire.
Her fingers apply pressure, desperate to relieve such intense burning, and the passerby who helped her lays his hands on her face in a vain attempt to get her own fingers out of her own eyes. Tears flowed freely down her reddened cheeks from the stinging air.
She has been so stupid, so greedy in wanting to savor light and freedom and colors again, that she has forgotten that her eyes are not used to it. Now she will be lucky if she is not blind.
"Take it easy... take it easy." The male offers her comforting words, but he doesn't know what to do. Maybe he should call his mate and tell her that a little girl has appeared randomly after he winnowed in the border village. But the young fae is screaming and crying and he doesn't know why, and at the moment contacting his beloved on the other side of his Court is out of the question.
He is so focused on removing her hands from her eyes, which press so hard that she seems to want to gouge them out herself, that he doesn't notices she is dressed only in an old nightgown. Bloodstained and torn. The male sighs and takes off his coat, offering it to her.
He helps her up, puts the head around her shoulders and uses the hood to cover her eyes. Selaene on the other hand does nothing to go along with the movements, but she does not object either.
The stabbing pain has reduced to occasional twinges, and she realizes only later that she is now standing and her body no longer shakes from the cold, her teeth having stopped chattering.
Whoever the male is, he is kind, she thinks. He could have left her there, or worse. Instead he is helping her, even giving her his hood to cover her eyes.
Kallias, the High Lord of the Winter Court lets out a big sigh and defeated, takes the female's arm. Even today he will not be able to visit the village, it is as if fate did it on purpose.
One moment they are at the borders, the next they are in a noisy place, and even though she doesn't see them, she hears a lot of people circling around them offering help.
Selaene wants to yell at whoever he is, to say they had to stay there, in the exact spot he passed and get her sister, but she keeps quiet.
She lets the Fae's arm guide her to a room that smells of rosemary and sage. Only now, little by little, is her body getting used to the world again. Except for her eyes, which she keeps tightly shut in fear of opening them and seeing... nothing. She is afraid that she has gone blind.
"Tyna, can you call Vivi?" The male's voice is authoritative. She wants to explain that there is no need for them to do anything, that she would just like them to call her brother and mate.
A twinge in her heart makes her gasp. Azriel. She searches inside her, retraces that bond that has become dry and dead, and reaches the end of her companion, only to find... a wall. She can't reach out to him, to make that wonderful thing that connects them flourish again, because now... it is Azriel who is not there.The man must have noticed the change in the Fae's mood, because he turns to her.
"Who are you? How did you end up with me?"
"I was-I was stuck in the UnderWorld."Selaene does not even try to put up a fight. All this time she has never thought about the possibility that Azriel was...
"What?" He asks and does not mask surprise, but the female does not answer.
"Are you part of the Night Court?" The fae nods in assent from under her hood. "Are you injured?"
"No."
A female suddenly enters the room. "Kal. What happened?"
"She appeared totally at random when I winnoweed, says she got stuck in the UnderWorld and now--her eyes, I don't know, Viv."
There is a long pause between the two, and Selaene has to suppress the urge to peek. She focuses on how she feels, rather. Besides the smell of spices, she can sense the two Fae and suspects they are companions. "All right. I'll go get Mor, then."
Selaene has no idea who the mentioned female is, but she does not open her mouth. She hears light footsteps moving away until they disappear. The male remains in the room with her. "Okay. I leave you in the hands of Tyna, our healer. And my mate has gone to call for help in your Court. Can you tell me your name?"
Selaene hesitates. "I am Selaene."
The male emits a sound of surprise that leaves the Fae quite puzzled, seeming to hurry away without so much as a word. After a couple of minutes, light pattering can be heard in the room on the floor.
"Hi. I'm Tyna and I'll help you see. How long were you in the absence of light?" A soft, warm voice envelops her, and she feels cuddled by the female who is taking care of her.
"I ... I don't know. More than four centuries."
"And as soon as you came back, did you open your eyes?" Selaene nods. "You stupid, stupid girl. " She says and her face appears under the hood, she feels her warm breath against his.
"Come on, try to open one eye, slowly. Don't hold them tight, or you'll hurt yourself." Selaene follows her instructions, and when she finally opens one eye she meets the face of a female with chubby cheeks and ice-colored eyes.
"There you are." She says softly, "now close it and open the other, ever so slowly."
Once she ascertains that the young girl has not blinded herself, the healer invites her to keep her eyes open under the hood as she fetches her a small piece of black cloth.
"What is it?" asks Selaene passing the small square between her fingertips. Tyna takes her by the arm and helps her up, leading her to the nearest window.
"Put it in front of your eyes and look out, we will use a thinner cloth each time."
The young female positions herself in front of the window and holds the cloth in front of her eyes with one hand, while she removes the hood from her head with the other.
"Does it hurt, honey?" Selaene shakes her head and a smile spreads across her face as she catches a glimpse of snowy mountains outside the window.
They remind her of the Illyrian steppes. Her wings twitch involuntarily. How she has missed flying, how she misses home.
Tyna passes her other types of cloth, all gradually finer and less dark, until finally she declares that her eyes are apposite and she can look out without the help of anything.
"Maybe don't look straight into the sun, but there's not much here anyway." The comment warms her heart, somehow. When was the last time she looked into the face of another person?
"I would like to go back to my home."
"Don't worry, stay here. Our Lady has gone to call the Third-in-Command of the Night Court. She will take you home." The Fae nods and watches the female figure as she leaves the room.
Now that she finds herself alone and can see, she studies her surroundings. Around her are various dried herbs, and she is probably in Tyna's study. There is a mirror near the sink, and she decides to observe herself after almost five hundred years. She approaches slowly keeping her gaze down, and after a long breath and resting her hands on the pottery for support, Selaene looks straight into her eyes. She is smug with her reflection: she is exactly as she was all those years ago. She was never vain, but she knew she was a beautiful female, and Azriel did not fail to repeat this to her every day, making her blush. Her eyes are still bright purple, and her hair is still black and shiny, just as long as it was. The mirror is too small to mirror her wings in full, but it was one of the few things she had bothered to do in the UnderWorld: the exercises Cassian made her do to keep her wing and back muscles in training. The only thing that has changed is her complexion, once honey-colored, now turned a ghostly hue.
Voices in the distance distract her from her thoughts, and she hurries back to sit on the small cot as before. "Oh, there you are." The white-haired female greets her, the same as before. She must be the one who called the blond-haired Fae to her side. Could it be her Mor?
In her scent she recognizes some familiar trace, but she could not trace it back to anything or anyone in particular.
Mor watches her in surprise, a distressed expression aging her face as she seems to be having a silent conversation with the white-haired female. Selaene does not like this. Is she a Daemati too? She tries to check her mental shields, but cannot remember how. The Fae eventually leaves after a brief embrace with the blonde.
"Is your name Selaene?" A question asked in such a hopeful tone, if she is really Mor, then she is the Third in Command of the High Lord of the Night Court. Which is... her brother.
"Are you Mor?" The blonde seems annoyed by her question and the fact that she did not answer, but then she smiles.
"You look just as I imagined you." She says, and her eyes glaze over. Selaene hasn't allowed herself to cry yet, and she won't allow herself to until she knows her family is okay, but Mor is giving her more hope in these minutes than in most of her life.
"Let's go home, Selaene." She tells her after clearing her throat, her voice cracked. She holds out a hand and the young girl studies it before taking it between her own.
"Shall we go to Velaris?" Mor smiles at her, but does not answer. The young woman's heart could burst with joy at any moment. The blonde's grip tightens on her hand, and in the blink of an eye, the two find themselves at the gates of Velaris. "Welcome home, Selaena."
Only now, only after setting foot in her city, in her home, does the fae allow herself to cry. She does not cry as she expected: her tears are silent and of pure wonder. Mor squeezes her hand one more time before bringing it back along her own sides. "Come on, let's walk to the River House."
They walk silently, the blonde not wanting to disturb Selaene. Not when there is such wonder, such happiness in her gaze. She is just as she expected, a copy of her cousin. Gods, she was her cousin.
"Selaene. We haven't introduced ourselves." She tells her after they stopped at a stall and bought her a typical treat-the Fae did not ask for it, but Mor saw how her pupils dilated at such a delicacy, "I am Mor. And I am your cousin. And your brother's cousin."
At her words Selaene's heart gave a little sinking. "Is he-he is here? Is he okay?"
"He doesn't know you're here, we're going to see him." She cannot stop the tears even if she wanted to. Mor hands her food, but she is not hungry. She can't even remember the taste of the food, can't remember the last thing she ate or when.
"I want to go to him right away." Mor chuckles and makes her way through the crowd. "They're all there, honey. We were having dinner."
It takes ten minutes on foot. Ten terrible minutes in which Selaene's heart does nothing but beat, beat, beat. Louder and louder.
"Here we are."
As soon as they enter the front door, the smell of Rhysand, a female and something else fills her nostrils, and she smiles at the familiarity she had forgotten.
She hears his voice, their voices. She hears the clatter of cutlery and the laughter of a family.
Mor enters first, but the room freezes at the new, well, not new, found smell. Rhysand, her brother, oh gods, her brother gets up to see who is hiding behind his cousin.
And when their gazes meet...
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next chapter
tags: @helo1281917
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anonimusunnoaniswriting · 7 months ago
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Falling in love always meant falling out of it...
...but with Nanami Kento you never had the chance.
Hard and impassive as ever, Nanami said nothing. Age, it seemed, had made him even less of a talker than before. It has been several years since you had seen the man last. You still saw him as hed been. 17 and full of promise.
When disaster struck, no one saw it coming. You were both devastated by loss. Haibara’s untimely death, Geto senpai’s defection, the events hit you hard. Him, more than anything. It was then that you had both decided to abandon the Jujutsu world after graduating, opting instead to take part in regular society. Society where the people in charge weren't comfortably killing children daily. Where you would have a chance to live past 30.
So you wrapped up your life of curses and coffins and went to work. Day in and day out. The cold grey office space. Killing you in a different way. But the corporate world suited Nanami. Dressed immaculately with his hair now cut short and styled in a way that made him look so much more mature, you admitted to yourself, he was attractive.
Having left at the same time you found comfort in each other. The jobs you did took up the majority of your days but the evenings were spent first, just hanging out, and then, as the days turned to weeks turned to months, it was just easier to stop pretending there wasn't something there. His quiet storm complimented your gentle calm. It worked.
You started dating. Dinners, movies, sometimes even amusement parks. But mostly, home with each other. Reveling in the presence of the other.
The first time he kissed you, it had been so cliche. He'd taken you to dinner and bought you flowers – lilies. Then dropped you off at your apartment.
“May I kiss you?” He'd asked.
And though he spoke it clearly, the subtle rasp in his throat and the slight tensing of his shoulders told you all you needed to know. You’d nodded and he'd bent down to kiss you, softly pecking at your lips.
The first time he made love to you it was just as sweet. He had asked you for permission, which when given, he had taken full advantage of. He treated you like a queen. His queen. Kneeling between your thighs, worshiping at the altar of your lust. His velvet tongue unceasing…
Every moment with him had felt like bliss. Wrapped in each other's company it was easier to keep the horrors of your pasts at bay. But it wasn't meant to last…
There were dreams, no, not dreams. Nightmares. Guilt ate away at the man shaking him awake in the dead of the night. His friends, his peers, you, dead. Lost to the curses that still roamed unchecked. Powerful creatures, dark and evil, ripping, tearing, obliterating. The feeling became too much to bear.
Nanami knew he had to go back. He didn't want to ask you to join him. You would be safer away. He would do anything to keep you safe…
So he left you. He packed up his things and returned to the world you had sworn you wouldn't touch again.
Heart shattered, and not willing fully to follow him, you accepted an attractive position that had been offered to you in Germany. The benefits were amazing. You jumped at the chance. There was a hope that once you were there, you would forget him. But part of you knew you were fooling yourself. Nanami was not a man one could get over…
So here you stood. 20 years later. In front of him – a cold stony facade.
“I missed you.” You whispered.
He did not respond.
“I never should have left! I should have come back with you! I should have–”
The tears fell down your cheeks onto the ground below.
“I still love you, Nanami Kento…” you composed yourself and pulled out a handkerchief from your handbag to dab at the tears.
“I still love you Nanami Kento.”
Strong warm hands grasped your shoulders holding you up. In the corner of your eye you saw his pink hair flashing reddish in the sun. Almost like fire. Itadori Yuuji, the man who finally connected you with your lost love.
“I'm sorry I'm late. Parking was tough. Here,” he handed you a large bouquet of white lilies. “You should give them to him. He’d like that.”
You kneeled down and laid the flowers on the cold marble gravestone.
“Yes, yes he would…”
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aztarion · 18 days ago
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If Sol is an anxiety-riddled cheetah, what sort of person or thing or addition to her (un)life would have the same effect on her that an emotional support puppy has on a cheetah?
ive been thinking about this and not getting anywhere j and im pretty sure it’s meant as no nuance but we’ve established im an overthinker v_v so i rambled for a while below, hopefully it’s entertaining LOL. i focused way too much on the relationships. tbh it could be her brother if she ever reunited with him
it’s so hard to pick out one particular thing or person or addition and keep it realistic!!! i’d otherwise say it was Julian during the fledgling years, but she didn’t have much in the way of anxiety then, not like it is now, and he was also partially responsible for what brought about triggering/exacerbating it in the first place. but initially what they had, if you could lift that younger slightly less bold Julian to replace present Julian, might have that effect on her
in some weird way i think Sol subconsciously likes being kept on the fringe or razors edge of her nerves in some twisted strain of excitement; ive been toying with this as a manifestation of her beast. so maybe she would vore a traditional therapy dog and sit there shaking and whimpering like she’s the victim 🧐
i’ve mentioned before she gets on really well with Elena and enjoys her dry presence and quiet competence and absolute loyalty, but the fact of what’s unnaturally behind that loyalty spikes anxiety if Sol dwells on it — Sol is also VERY protective and worries about everyone she has a connection with. she would develop feelings for the therapy dog. whatever it might be in this analogy, it would have to be some sort of stronger kindred/supernatural for her to have any peace of mind
so… Lettow comes closest in that regard, but i still don’t think Sol would be happy for other reasons. his demeanor, strength and reliability has the most inwardly calming effect on her — like a truly strange solid steadying comfort over a period of months that grow insanely chaotic. he offers comfort, forgiveness, acceptance, support — all the things she thinks she wants or needs. it’s interesting to me that in the base text a lot of his touches and embraces are described as being either ‘grounding’, ‘protective’ or ‘lingering’ because Sol often feels like she’s drowning — in guilt, in Aila’s memories, in loneliness, in purposelessness, in her own maddeningly unsatisfied hunger. like meeting earth after years at sea. he has big taurus energy to her underdeveloped scorpio. (contrastingly Julian’s are described as unexpected or split-second and leaving her off-balance… but again i think Sol actually likes that)
maybe Lettow could help her heal past Aila but i don’t think Sol would give herself that chance for forgiveness. and while she comes to really love and care for him despite the confusion Aila’s stirring brings, and her own impulsive feelings and actions, i don’t think she’s IN love with Lettow :( he doesn’t inspire or excite or wildly frustrate her like Julian does. so maybe that does make Lettow a good emotional support puppy… Sol needs a pet elder kindred just chilling in the background with a panama hat being extremely accepting of her stupidity to feel normal i guess. im thinking his willingness to forgive what she’s done would eat at her forever though, to a point that’s just utterly dissociative. and that’s not fair to Lettow; he doesn’t deserve another gf tapping out on him
present-and-post-night road Julian…sigh
Julian has this constant dichotomy of idealism and hypocrisy, patience and cool calculative manipulation. he would be that one therapy dog that wasn’t screened for occasionally barking unexpectedly and roughhousing. so like he’s very good for her in some ways and terribly triggering in others but now the cheetah is attached to him so everyone (me) is hesitant to take him out of the enclosure
more than anything Julian offers her assurance in his intelligence, adaptability, his purpose — and the purpose he gives her, which Sol can’t put to words. it’s less about providing a calming presence and more about inspiring and challenging her. he’s like enrichment LOL. more akin to a partner in adventure and crime rather than strictly emotional support, but i think Sol would end up heading in Aila’s direction without Julian stirring shit up for her
as for the emotional support… ok this is where i retreat to my fanfic but Marquis definitely threw a big bone at the end of Julian’s romance. they have a very deep connection; the sire-childe bond, were best friends/lovers/attached at the hip for a decade, he brings out the best (and worst) in her but he helps her discover herself… i think it’s special and could work as a foundation. of course ultimately the effectiveness depends on the progression of their relationship and the trust rebuilding between them post-night road, but i see that as a possibility. when Sol tentatively decides to help with Julian’s plan for the SI and 2100 long term instead of Lettow, something big is bridged there — in the ending scene with romanced Julian he in turn offers Sol half of the reigns on the program and lets her call the shots with whatever happens with the death cult in Monterrey, as well as joining her in the field. i love Kyle for doing that lmao… it’s a really nice moment that hints at Julian being willing to work to rebuild the relationship and trust between them instead of what you get in night road when neither of them wholly trust each other and are loathe to keep it 100. once Julian knows she’s in, he’s down, no holds barred. i think they'd both be for the long haul, in good and probably still some bad and very imperfect ways but that keeps it interesting
THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK <3333 THANK YOU J <333
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daryltwdixon · 2 months ago
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The Promise of Us: Chapter 55
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remember when I said I was writing something cute and fluffy :') this has part of it, next chapter has more
Walking the path back to the church, their dollies loaded with food and supplies, Daryl keeps his head down, lost in the swirling maze of thoughts that circle around Y/N. His mind is a whirlwind, but it’s the kind that settles something inside him, something he’s been feeling for longer than he’s ever had the courage to admit. The connection he has with her—it’s stronger than anything he’s ever known. Through every nightmare, every mile of blood-soaked ground, it’s only ever been her. He knows it, always did, really. But it's clear as day now.
The church looms ahead, offering a kind of safety they haven’t known in a while, but the tension within the group digs into him. He thinks of his closest friend–Carol. She’s been quiet, too quiet, and whatever happened out there with her, the girls, and Tyreese—it’s marked her, left her with that haunted look he catches every now and then. He’s been in that darkness before and he can tell she’s carrying something heavy, but he doesn’t push. He supposes they’re all carrying something now.
And then there’s Gabriel. The priest’s polite smiles and darting eyes grate on him, as if the man's whole being is wrapped in something he’s too afraid to face. There’s a jitteriness to him, a lurking guilt that only deepens Daryl’s distrust. He’s seen men haunted by the things they’ve done, but Gabriel’s guarded eyes, clutching his Bible like it might save him—it all feels like a mask hiding something he’s not ready to let anyone see.
But it’s Y/N who fills his thoughts, rising above the noise, her face, her voice pulling him in like a lifeline. He doesn’t know when it happened, maybe even before the world went to hell, but the thought of a world without her is one he can’t bear. Hell, he’d already tried that—already felt what it was like to think she was gone, that she’d disappeared along with everything else after the prison. And the guilt that settled in after...those days with Beth, thinking he might find something in someone else’s company, feels like a faint shadow now. She had been a flicker of light in the dark, but nothing—nothing—like what he has with Y/N.
For a moment, he pictures her beside him not just in these ruins, not just surviving day to day, but something different, something that isn’t about waiting or putting things off like the world they left behind. He wants that with her, whatever “that” means out here. She’s been a part of him longer than he’d even known, and all he wants now is to make sure she knows it, to find a way to make it real, even if he can’t find the words yet.
Rick watches him, raising a brow as Daryl fidgets with something in his hand. “You good?” Rick’s voice is careful, a touch of something familiar. "Whatcha got there?”
Daryl’s head snaps up, his grip relaxing just slightly as he opens his hand, giving Rick a glimpse of what he’s been holding tight. Rick’s gaze drops, surprise flickering in his eyes, quickly replaced by something else—a glimmer of warmth, something Daryl hasn’t seen in a long time.
Rick’s mouth edges up, a small, genuine smile, and he glances back at the path ahead.
“What?” Daryl asks, maybe a little too defensively, his own heart hammering at the question.
Rick chuckles quietly, his tone lowering, almost as if he’s talking more to himself than anyone else. “Just happy for ya. We all need somethin’ good.” He pauses, his voice softer, “She needs somethin’ good.”
The words hit Daryl hard, settling deep in his chest. He feels the weight of what he’s holding, a quiet promise he’s not sure how to share, but one he’ll keep close for her.
❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥・・❥
You
The low hum of voices and soft laughter fills the room as everyone settles into the warmth the church walls provide. Contentment settles over you as you lean back against the pew, watching Glenn eagerly reach for seconds and Maggie nudge him, laughing softly. You glance over at Daryl, the warm candlelight flickering over his face, casting shadows along his cheekbones. He’s licking his lips, catching a hint of sauce on his mouth, and there’s a crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he glances at you, something knowing and soft there that feels like it was always meant just for you. From your quiet corner, both of you sit apart from the others, content to watch them for a while. There’s a warmth in the air, a sense of safety none of you have felt in a long time, and the satisfaction of full bellies—something you know many of you have been missing for far too long.
“Thank you,” you murmur quietly, looking over at Daryl beside you, “for going out there for all of this.”
“Wasn’t just me,” he gruffs, eyes dropping to his hands. He licks the remnants of food from his fingers, and you can’t help but watch the way his lips purse around each one, how the candlelight makes his skin look almost golden. He catches you looking, smirking slightly. “Surprised you kept your promise fer once,” he teases, voice low, barely above a mumble.
“Oh, yeah? Wha’s that supposed to mean?” You lean into him, your voice light and challenging.
“Actually stayed put when ya said ya would,” he teases back, leaning closer. He’s relaxed, in his own Daryl way, but there’s a glint in his eyes that tugs at something deep inside you. You roll your eyes and set your plate down, pulling your legs up close, hugging them to your chest as you turn to him. His gaze meets yours, holding it for a beat longer than usual. There’s an energy in the air, something tender and open between you, pulling you closer until you’re so near, you can feel the warmth of his breath.
You reach over, fingers just brushing his cheek before he leans into it. It feels like gravity pulling you together, and before either of you can think twice, his lips are on yours, soft and tentative. You have had enough of pretending like you didn’t want to spend every waking moment savoring him, being this close after what you’d been through. There’s a sweetness to his kiss, a hint of shyness, like he’s still testing how close he can let himself get, even now. But he lets his hand come up, fingers curling around the back of your neck, drawing you in deeper. His thumb brushes along your jaw, and the softness of his touch nearly breaks you, making you feel like the world around you has fallen away. 
When he pulls back, his cheeks are tinged pink, eyes flickering down briefly before he clears his throat, almost like he’s caught off guard by his own feelings. He’s close, still leaning in, the hand on the back of your neck now wrapping around your own fingers. His free hand fumbles in his pocket before he produces something, shaking just slightly. He opens his palm to reveal a simple, thin gold band, the light catching on its smooth surface.
“Found it…” he starts, voice rough, “at the food bank. Damn walker had it on, but I thought…it just…looked like somethin’ that would suit ya.”
You can see the awkwardness creeping over him, his eyes shifting away, his thumb rubbing the side of the ring as if he’s trying to gather the words together in his mind. His gaze flickers back to yours, and he shifts, seeming to struggle to stay still under the weight of what he wants to say.
“Ain't much for sayin’ stuff like this, you know that, but…” He swallows, his eyes catching yours with a rare softness, “All that time apart, every second…it felt like I was losin’ my mind, like I was losin’ somethin’ I didn’t know how to name. Hell, you’re the only damn thing that’s ever made sense, really.”
He looks down at the ring, then back at you, the vulnerability in his gaze almost breaking your heart. “I don’t ever wanna be apart from ya again, ya hear? Been wantin’ this—whatever this is, been wantin’ it since the start, I just didn’t get it back then. You were always…” he pauses, his thumb brushing your hand, “center of it all. Since we were kids. Hell, even through that mess with Shane. You were it, even then. Just took me a while to figure out what was goin’ on up here,” he mutters, tapping the side of his head. “You’re the center of everythin’ for me, always have been.”
He clears his throat, swallowing hard as he lifts the ring between you both. “So…you think maybe…maybe you’d wanna…be mine? Be my... my wife?” His voice is barely more than a whisper, his gaze full of hope and the slightest tremor of fear.
The quiet intimacy of the room melts away everything else around you, leaving just the soft glow of the candles and the feeling of Daryl’s hand wrapped around yours. His words hang in the air, filling the silence with something both fragile and heavy. You can feel your heart pounding, every beat echoing his words back at you as his thumb gently rubs over your knuckles. His voice is so raw, so open—more vulnerable than you’ve ever heard it. The look in his eyes reaches deep inside you, stirring a warmth that feels both achingly familiar and yet entirely new.
Without even realizing it, you reach up again, brushing your fingers along the rough edge of his jaw, your touch tender and careful. Your hand trembles as you move it, and you feel a faint, almost giddy smile tugging at your lips as you try to steady yourself. He watches you, waiting, his gaze full of nervousness and hope, and you feel your chest tighten again at the vulnerability you see in him.
You glance down at the ring, touching it lightly, letting your fingers brush over his palm as you look back up at him, heart racing. “You don’t even know,” you whisper, voice thick with emotion, and you let out a shaky laugh, glancing down as you blink back the tears that blur your vision. “From the very start, Daryl. Since we were kids, then even when we didn’t talk, when things got…messy. You were there, always a part of me,” You pause, the memories rushing through your mind. “I think, even then, you were already everything to me. But I was too scared to understand it.”
You swallow, the words tumbling out in a rush, like they’ve been waiting all this time to find their way to him. “Through everything—losing people, the farm, Shane, and then when I thought I’d lost you for good when the prison fell and I…” Your voice breaks, and you can’t bring yourself to finish the thought. The memory of that emptiness, of thinking he was gone forever, sits like a weight in your chest, and a tear slips down your cheek. You squeeze his hand, grounding yourself in his warmth.
“I don’t want to go through this world without you. I can’t. I won't.” Your voice is barely more than a murmur, your thumb brushing along his knuckles as your other hand cups his face, feeling the rough stubble beneath your fingertips. “You’re it for me, Daryl… the center of my everything too. I don’t know if I’ve ever been sure of anything, but I’ve always been sure of you.”
A quiet, overwhelming joy rises in you, mixed with all the love you’d never put into words until now. “Yes, Daryl… yes, of course, yes,” you whisper, and you feel his hand tighten around yours, steadying you. You let out a breathless laugh, one hand still resting against his cheek as you watch his face, seeing a softness in his eyes that he rarely lets anyone see.
He lets out a small, almost relieved breath, his gaze fixed on you like he’s afraid this moment might slip away. You lean forward, meeting his lips in a kiss that holds everything—every unspoken promise, every moment you’ve shared, every piece of your heart that’s been his all along. It’s soft, warm, a kind of love you feel down to your bones.
When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his, and his fingers, a little shaky, slide the ring onto your finger. It’s a simple, worn band, but in his hands, it’s perfect, and you can’t help but smile, feeling more whole than you have in a long, long time.
Just as you’re catching your breath, feeling the warmth of Daryl’s hand in yours, a loud whoop cuts through the soft murmurs in the room. You turn, startled, to see Rick grinning wide, hands clapped together as he lets out a hearty, joyful cheer. The rest of the group catches on, and suddenly, laughter and clapping fill the room. Faces light up with smiles, everyone cheering, and you can’t help but feel the blush spread hot across your cheeks. Daryl grunts beside you, scratching the back of his neck, his usual awkward discomfort more obvious than ever.
From somewhere in the crowd, Glenn hollers, “Hey, Father Gabriel, think you can ordain a wedding on the fly?” He’s laughing, but Maggie’s already in front of you, pulling you both up from the pew, her face bright with excitement.
“Oh, c’mon! Let’s make it official!” she says, guiding you both toward the front, and Daryl shoots you a helpless look that makes you laugh even more.
As Father Gabriel steps up, he clears his throat, looking as surprised as he is pleased. You and Daryl share a look—half-embarrassed, half-disbelieving—as Gabriel begins reciting some heartfelt words, ones you can barely hear over the pounding of your heart and the laughter echoing around the room.
"By the power invested in me," Gabriel announces, with a solemnity that almost makes the whole thing seem real, "I now pronounce you husband and wife."
The room erupts into louder cheers, and you look up at Daryl, grinning. He stares back at you with that same look of wonder, that softness, before his hand slips to the back of your neck and pulls you close for another kiss, sealing the moment as husband and wife. The cheers get louder--as loud as this world would allow without inviting any unwanted guests--and you’re both laughing, happiness bubbling up in you so overwhelming it almost hurts.
But before you can get too caught up in it, Daryl pulls back, shaking his head, his face flushed as he turns to the group. “Alright, enough’a this!” he grunts with a playful glare. He scoops you up into his arms, catching you off guard, and everyone smiles as he turns, heading for the back office. “Gotta get away from you people! Ain’t nothin’ private ‘round here,” he calls over his shoulder, a gruff smile breaking through.
With everyone still laughing and cheering behind you, Daryl carries you out of the room, his face softening as he glances down at you, something quiet and tender in his eyes. It’s a moment that feels like yours alone, and for once, everything feels right. You’re finally his, and he’s finally yours.
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misscammiedawn · 2 months ago
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Mr. Robot and Accepting Trauma Memories
In all my posts about how good Mr. Robot can be about depicting healing for those with DID, I never did highlight the last conversation Elliot has with his therapist in Season 4.
[Scene paraphrased, skipping comments about Elliot's father or the itch in the back of Elliot's head]
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Upon his trauma memories returning Elliot is dissociated and barely holding it together. His therapist, who was with him for the revelation, gets him to safety (as always depicted by golden light in the show)
Krista's camera angle keeps Elliot in frame at all times while Elliot remains alone. She's reaching out and he's withdrawing. The show always uses camera angles and empty space to show isolation. All the empty space with subjects usually singled out in the 1-2 shots as a way to show their lack of connection.
Krista is on the very edge of the frame, meeting Elliot where he is. She's not trying to pull him out of his dissociation, she's just trying to reach out and offer him grounding and connection and comfort.
The thing being depicted here though is one of the most empathetic displays of trauma memories resurfacing. Elliot wants to forget again and Krista says that he never forgot.
In reality trauma memories, even the most buried ones, remain active and present within anyone suffering a dissociative disorder. The mind simply prevents access to that information as a means of self-preservation. When triggered or summoned it will activate the nervous system and create a recall response. In Elliot's case an "itch in the back of his mind"
At a cellular level, the body stores a memory of everything it has experienced. Sometimes this is evoked through touch, ranging from casual touch, to intimate touching, to massage and body-work. Sometimes a trigger can cause these body memories to break through. Sometimes the body memory just surfaces. Although there are times when a body memory coincides with an identifiable flashback, sometimes it may seem to happen ‘out of nowhere’. This can be extremely frightening and unnerving, especially if you don’t know this is what is happening. It does not mean you have ‘lost it’ or that you are crazy. Your mind is not playing a cruel trick on you, but rather is presenting you with memory or information that needs to be worked through so you can heal from the wounding you experienced. The phenomena of flashbacks and body memories can become more complex when you are not the only personality residing within your physical body— especially until you-all each have a greater sense of ‘self’ and ‘System’. If you have not yet reached a place of distinguishing between yourself and others in your System, you may have a consciousness of sensations that are the memory and/or current experience of another part. While this may seem strange or odd, it is not unheard of. Each part doing their own work, getting to know each other better, and getting strong senses of self- and System- is really what will get things to a more manageable place. - Got Parts ~ An Insiders Guide to Managing Life Successfully with Dissociative Identity Disorder (ATW)
When it comes to handling trauma memories the option to "just forget" does not truly exist. To not think about it does not prevent the mind from reacting when the trigger is touched. The memory will summon sense memory or emotional flashback and cause symptoms.
The only path to healing is to engage with those memories and work on integrating them. No matter how hard that may seem. Because to continue pushing it away is to allow the triggers to continue activating the nervous system and let the memory literally haunt the present day.
I'm glad that Krista got to say that.
Season 4 Episode 8 is all about accepting the weight of the trauma memory.
The final moment of the episode has Mr. Robot, who was created to protect the system and is modeled to look and act like Elliot's abuser, returns to talk to Elliot about what happened. Bathed in golden light and within their base of operations "Allsafe"
Elliot flinches at the mere thought of Mr. Robot. The living memory of his father and the one who held the memories of his abuse for so long. Fearing that he has failed in his duty as Elliot's protector, Mr. Robot speaks, desperate to fix it, knowing that now the memories have resurfaced he may not be able to any longer.
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"The only reason I'm here is to make sure no one ever hurts you. That was supposed to be your father's job. But he failed. He was too weak. But you? You were strong. You fought back the only way you could. You brought me here to protect you from him."
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"I tried to keep you safe and only show you the memories when the two of you were friends before..." he pauses and lets the implication hang in the air, "I thought I could store the truth so you'd never have to see it or feel it. Fact is I didn't wanna see it either. I made a terrible mistake. I was afraid. Afraid of what this would do to you. To us.
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"This was never my secret to keep. And you deserved better than to live in darkness for so long. I'm so sorry. I failed you, too. I understand if you can't forgive me or you decide to shut me out for good. Just as long as you know that I am not your father. I never was."
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"You're nothing like him. That's why I created you. You're the father I needed. Not the father I had."
"If I could have stopped him. If I could go back in time. Change everything that happened to you and make it all go away..."
"Then I wouldn't be me." Elliot finally turns to look at Mr. Robot, "And I wouldn't have you."
Mr Robot finally protectively holds Elliot and he breaks down in sobs, unsure if he has it in him to see their hacking plan through.
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In this scene Mr. Robot accepts the truth that holding those memories from Elliot caused him so much pain over the years and that it was all he knew to do as a protector but faced with the reality of him accepting the pain he understands he was wrong.
The episode also features Elliot's child alter guiding him to evidence that they did fight back against their father as a child. They locked the door to their childhood bedroom and hid the key that Edward had access to. They threw themselves out of a window to prevent him hurting either him or their sister.
They were a child and sometimes the only way to fight back is to hide or to show the abuser that you'll not accept their abuse silently.
Both Mr. Robot and Krista praise the child who received the abuse for doing all they could to fight back, even when they felt so powerless. That it was not their fault. That the abuse was something they did everything they could to try and stop.
Mr. Robot even goes in and says that he wishes he could use a time machine to undo it and Elliot, finally accepting the core themes of the show, rejects the notion outright.
"I wouldn't be me. And I wouldn't have you."
Healthy acceptance of that which is and treasuring all that has been made with his life despite the trauma.
The main villain's plan is to use what is implied to be a time machine to reject the pain of this harsh reality in search of a better one. She would see suffering and turmoil in the present to bring about a better history. She is so fixated on reclaiming the world she feels she was owed that she cannot accept the reality she finds herself in.
Elliot goes dormant after his conversation with Mr. Robot and he takes over for the big hacking plan. During the finale of the "Fsociety" portion of the plot, Elliot finally resurfaces when Whiterose promises that her plot (implied heavily to be a time machine) can bring back a loved one that was murdered earlier in the show. When confronted with the choice between pressing forward with the pain of loss or retreating into delusion and rejection of reality; Elliot chooses to resurface.
Cementing the theme and moral firmly. It is better to accept the past and integrate it into your future than to live in rejection. Even if it hurts.
It's the only way to heal.
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merbear25 · 8 months ago
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Hello, i don't know if the requests are open, i was wondering about trigun x reader, vash and wolfwood, a reader who's easy going and friendly, cheerful, yet emotionally distant and overthinks a lot
It's fine if it's not your cup of tea, thank you for reading anyway ^^
Hello, hello! I decided to write the headcanons seperately because I wasn't sure if you wanted Vash and Wolfwood in a poly relationship. Apologies if I miss understood! I hope you like it regardless 💜💜
Vash and Wolfwood x Reader who's cheerful but distant
CW: headcanons, gn!reader, fluff, can be read as platonic or romantic.
Vash
He's drawn to your cheerful and friendly demeanor, seeing as he gives off the same energy. This makes it easy for the both of you to find the humor in little things and develop inside jokes.
The easy-going nature you have helps him feel relaxed, and he'd match your energy in hopes of providing the same solace to you.
Whenever you're caught up in your own thoughts, starting to spiral from overthinking, he's there to ground you and offer a fresh point of view on the issue.
Emotional distance doesn't put him off. He just sees it as a part of you and a peek into the life you may have led. Besides, he knows the feeling of thinking you have to keep others at bay, so perhaps this will lead to indepth conversations and a deeper connection.
He's a very patient and understanding man. He's got a heart of gold and knows that you care about him deeply. Whenever your emotional distance pushes him away, he doesn't take it personally. Once giving you some space, he's there to welcome you into his warm embrace.
Wolfwood
He sees a lot of himself in you. That could be either a good or bad thing. However, your cheerful, easy-going and friendly attitude offer enough of a difference that he takes to you rather well.
Emotional distance is something he relates to all too well. There are times you two experience this at the same time and when that happens, you both take a breather to collect yourselves.
Sometimes he's the one to come back to you, offering you soft touches and hugs. Other times, it's you who makes the first move.
He deeply appreciates your more light-hearted moments. They help keep a smile on his face.
He has his own moments of cheerfulness, so being able to provide those fun moments to you is just as nice for him as it is for you.
Being one who rarely loses his head, he'll be the one to ground you when you're overthinking and getting carried away in your own conclusions. He'll be the voice of reason when you need him to be.
He may give you a short lecture here and there about not letting yourself get in your own head so often, but it'll always come from a place of care. All he wants is to know that you'd be okay if anything happened to him.
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lieutnt · 2 years ago
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behind closed doors
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Pairing: Kyle "Gaz" Garrick x Male Reader Summary: The team wonders if they should be worried about you and Kyle, but they don’t know what happens when the two of you are alone. Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only. Praising, lots of kissing, unprotected anal, orgasms. Tagging since it fits in with a request: @alligatorstomachacid
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“Uhhh, Capt’n? Do we need tae break em’ up?” Soap questions, eyeing you and Gaz circling each other like vultures. The two of you have been sparring for a while now, exchanging blows and reprimands steadily.
Price opens his mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a hissed “Oof” after Gaz suddenly lunges, bringing his knee up and connecting with your side with enough force to make you recoil backwards.
Gaz tuts, the noise sounding disapproving to the on-lookers, “You’re still not working on that weak spot.” Already back in position he waits for your counter, a barely contained grin threatening to spread across his face. He’s toying with you, and seems to be enjoying it just a bit too much.
You huff, moving back to steady yourself. Wasting no time you surge forward and plant one hand on his chest as your leg kicks the back of his, knocking him off balance and pushing him to the ground, quickly clambering on to plant your weight on top of him and hold a wrist in each hand. “Looks like you aren’t either, Kyle.”
If he left the two of you to your own devices Price knows you’d spend hours sparring, so he intervenes. “That’s enough you two.” When you and Gaz both look up at him, one brow furrows. “I don’t need you two beating the hell out of each other.”
Reluctantly, you release Gaz and stand back up, offering him a hand. He accepts and you help pull him up, only for Soap to saddle up with a grin. “Looks like you two can get along.”
Price must hear when you open your mouth, about to tell Soap to fuck off, but with a sharp glare he stops you in your tracks. Instead, you shake your head, gathering your bag full of training supplies and slinging it over your shoulder to head towards the showers, not without sticking your middle finger up over your shoulder. 
It must work, because you hear Gaz snort with laughter, followed by a sarcastic “Tha’s not very nice,” from Soap.
* * *
“Fuck,” you groan, voice muffled as you tuck into Kyle’s neck. “You feel so good,” you sigh out, body coming to a grinding halt as you wait, letting Kyle adjust around you. He throws his head back, taking steadying breaths as he gets used to your cock stretching him out.
When he’s finally ready, he makes a noise of discontent, hand cradling the back of your neck to encourage you to come face-to-face with him. You huff a gentle laugh, kissing him on the lips, “Is this better?”
Kyle nods his head when you inch away, stomping down the whine that was bubbling as you move your head back. “Yeah, wanted to see your face.” 
A shiver rocks through his body when you trail your hands so gently across his skin. “Am I ok to move?” you question, cock begging for relief.
“Please,” Kyle begs, arms coming up to link around your neck as you slowly start rocking your hips, soft groans pouring from you both as you easily fall into a rhythm. He nudges your nose with his every time he wants a kiss, basking in the closeness, and he just about melts when one gentle hand comes up to cup his face, thumb brushing against the scar on his cheek.
“You’re taking me so well,” you purr, rolling your hips into his tight heat, hands dropping to hold onto his hips. His legs tighten around your waist, encouraging you to keep going as he rocks with you, pushing back against you so you’re intertwined, moving as one.
Moans fill the air, Kyle’s cock hard and dripping against his stomach. When you move one hand to grasp his shaft and begin stroking he gasps and arches into your touch, pleading, “Go- go faster.” 
Even if it was supposed to be slow and sensual you can’t say no to him, nodding your head. “Anything you want.” Gradually you pick up speed, the increased pace sending blooms of pleasure through your body. Kyle is close too, his toes beginning to curl behind you as with the new pace you jab, jab, jab at his prostate, the combined sensations hurtling him rapidly towards new heights.
“Oh fuck, fuck, I’m so close,” he babbles, head rolling back against the pillows as his hands grip onto your biceps. 
“Are you gonna cum for me?” You ask, Kyle vigorously nodding his head in response.
“Yes, yes, I’m gonna-” he cuts himself off with a sharp intake as your thumb brushes over his slit, his cock twitching in response before he’s moaning, cock pulsing in your hand as he shoots his orgasm over his chest, ropes splashing against the skin, his hole clenching around you in time with the ripples of pleasure spreading throughout his body.
Keeping up your thrusts you praise him through his orgasm, “That’s it, did so well for me Kyle.” His eyes are glossy, dazedly sliding shut when the overwhelming urge to kiss him wins, your mouth capturing his own.
Kyle whines when you pull away to focus on driving your hips forwards, your own orgasm creeping closer and closer, “I know, I’m close,” you plead, brain too fogged to apologise for the overstimulation you’re putting him through.
He can tell when you’re about to snap, your thrusts losing their pattern. “Inside,” he demands just in time. With a few, final jerks of your hips, you’re unloading inside, cum stuffing him full.
Your arms weaken, losing their strength as you collapse against him, Kyle whispering words you can’t hear into your temple as your heart pounds in your ears with the intensity of your orgasm. 
As the rest of your senses trickle back to you you’re aware of Kyle holding you, a hand stroking up and down your spine while the other combs through your hair. When you muster the strength to move your head he’s smiling down at you, eyes shining with adoration. You lazily smile back, pushing yourself up enough just so that you can place a chaste kiss against his lips, one that he immediately tries to continue.
“Hi,” he laughs, now that you’re finally back in the room.
“Hi,” you beam back, a warm feeling settling in your chest. With an exhausted sigh Kyle lets his head fall back against the pillows, eyes closing for a moment. “Hey,” you start, only continuing once Kyle is looking at you again, “Love you.”
It’s not the first time you’ve said it, but by Kyle’s reaction it feels as if it is. He breaks out into a wide grin, springing forward so he can rest his forehead against yours. “You soppy bastard,” he chuckles, “I love you too.”
* * *
Still shaking away the drowsiness of sleep, the noises that accompany Kyle’s movements capture your attention, your eyes turning to hungrily sweep across him as he stretches out the ache from his muscles while sitting on the edge of the bed. When he turns and catches you watching he rolls his eyes, lying back down on his stomach to hover over you and press a quick kiss to your lips before speaking. “Were you watching me?”
You shift an arm so you can slowly draw a thumb down his spine. “Mhm, how could I not?” Leaning in you capture his mouth with yours, starting a lazy kiss that lasts for a few moments before breaking apart to rest forehead against forehead. “You got me good yesterday,” you breathe, the memory of the swift knee Kyle had lodged into your side suddenly popping into your mind.
He laughs, sitting up and shuffling over until he’s straddling your hips, your hands automatically drifting down to rest on his waist. “You got your revenge,” he quips back - barely five seconds later, you had pinned him underneath you. 
The mood swiftly changes when you begin to tease your fingers across his skin, dipping down to draw them along his thighs. “I wasn’t too rough was I?” He nods his head, leaning down to peck your lips.
“Yeah, and you still have some making up to do.” His eyes shine with mischief, mouth morphing into a playful grin.
“Oh? How should I do that?” You question, fingers making their way back up his thighs and around his waist to take an ass cheek in each hand, gently kneading the skin. Kyle hums in satisfaction, only to yell in surprise when you flip the two of you over, once again pinning him under your weight. Leaning down you bring him into a hungry kiss, breaking apart to move to his jaw, his neck, and start teasing down his chest. “Will this work?”
He inhales a sharp breath, hand cupping the back of your head as you suck on his chest, “It’s a start.”
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