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lovebugism · 1 year ago

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“don’t you dare touch him” eddie x shy!reader

idk i need a situation where reader never really speaks up but she finally does when it comes to eddie because she loves him sm😭

thanks so much for your request! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie melts when his quiet gf sticks up for him in front of jason (shy!reader, fluff, 2.4k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

The drive from Forest Hills to the arcade is spent with Lucas and Dustin bickering in the backseat and Eddie’s hand on your thigh.

“It’s been two years, and you still can’t beat my high score, Dusty Bun,” the former boy taunts. The nickname spills like venom from his smiling face. “Just give it up, okay? It’s not happening.”

Dustin grins back at him. It’s more so mischievous than it is taunting. His deep blue eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “You are so gonna be eating your words by the end of the night. When we leave, Princess Daphne is gonna be mine, alright? For good.”

Their arguing becomes background noise. With your cheek lolled against the hand you’ve got propped against the window, you’re pulled into the wispy lilac cloud your gaze is so heavily fixated upon. The sky billows lavender against a sea of pink and golden orange — a summer sunset so vivid you can taste it.

The only thing keeping you grounded is Eddie’s palm on your knee, wide and warm and all-consuming. His thumb rubs against your skin so softly you think it must be absentminded. It feels like static shock, anyway. He laughs quietly to himself, and his fingers tremble gently against you. This time they squeeze you with a newfound intention as he brings you back to him.

“What do you think, babe?” Eddie asks, pink mouth spread in a pearly white grin. His chocolate eyes glimmer with the golden hour sun as his gaze flits between yours and the road. “Think Dusty Bun has a chance here?”

You nod, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, silent in your support for the curly-headed boy who’s still yelling over Lucas in the back of the van.

“What about me?” he presses. And because he knows better than to give his quiet girl anything other than a yes or no answer, he follows quickly, “You think today’s the day I finally beat your Space Invaders high score?”

A beat passes. The momentary silence is filled with arguing boys, old tires on older asphalt, and Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” spilling softly from the radio. A quiet smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You purse the mischievous expression to the side as you turn away from him again.

Your non-answer makes him laugh. It sounds exactly like the colors of the sunset.

His beat-up van jerks when he puts it into park. The door on the side squeaks as the kids file out of it. Eddie’s does too, but you can’t hear it over him telling you to “sit tight.”

You wait patiently in the passenger seat like you always do, smiling to yourself as the boy rushes around the hood to open the door for you. The hinges screech in protest. His wild curls billow in the wind as he smiles. “C’mon, sunshine. Our palace awaits.”

The group of you stand beneath the spinning neon sign he parked next to — glowing orange and white beneath a setting sun. Someone calls from across the parking lot, “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

Your heads snap in the direction of the painfully familiar voice.

Jason and the rest of his abnormally tall goons stand outside the new gym that just opened on the strip. The dark, vacant building wedged between The Palace and Family Video was no longer as scary as it used to be now that it was occupied. You were just hoping it’d be something more exciting. Forcing arcade nerds and gym bros into one spot feels like a crime.

“And they brought little miss wallflower, too,” Jason lilts with his pretty smile and straight teeth. His blonde hair is a darker shade of brown, damp with half-dried sweat. His lean form is unnaturally built underneath his white tank top and basketball shorts.

It isn’t any wonder why he turned out to be such a raging douchebag.

Someone so perfect needed at least one flaw.

“The gang’s all here, huh?” one of his other friends — Andy, you think — concurs from behind him, always in the boy’s shadow.

“Like what you see, fellas?” Eddie calls out from across the slab of pavement separating the group of you. He’ll never turn down an opportunity to take the piss out of the so-called jocks, all muscle and no brain.

“What do we do when those assholes give us hell?” he’d often ask when you’ve had a particularly shitty day with them. “We give ‘em hell right back.”

Jason’s thin lips curl into a more mischievous smirk. His blue eyes are lighter in the golden sunlight, and they twinkle beneath the neon signs as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, actually,” he hums with his unabashed ogling. “I do.”

Mike’s lanky legs sidestep to stand ahead of you. He does it so swiftly, so instinctually, you don’t think he even really meant to do it. Despite the raven-haired boy halfway covering you, you cross your arms over your torso in a further attempt to keep yourself hidden.

You feel so suddenly exposed in your frilly floral sundress — especially considering the only thing you wear to school is baggy jeans and baggier sweaters. You feel like you might as well be naked standing in front of them just now.

The younger boys stand on high alert as Eddie walks the short distance to Jason. The brief journey is made quicker when the blonde boy strides to meet him halfway. It’s a high school sort of standoff — neither particularly wanting to get physical because the real-life repercussions aren’t worth it. They just want to see who can piss each other off the most.

“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Eddie concedes with a grin, flashing you a brief glance over his shoulder. He turns away quickly at the sight of your wide, pleading eyes. He scrunches his nose in feigned sympathy. “I bet you’re real jealous, huh? Especially now that you’ve got nothing but your right hand keeping you company ever since Chrissy dumped your ass.”

“Watch it,” Jason warns through gritted teeth.

“I think I saw her riding around last week with Harrington, actually.”

The blonde boy’s sneakers scuff against the concrete as he takes a daring step closer. His piercing stare never wavers. “Don’t talk about Chrissy.”

“Don’t talk about my girl, and I won’t talk about yours,” Eddie retorts in lilt. And then, because he can’t help but twist the knife, he tilts his head to his shoulder and continues. “Well, I guess she’s not really yours anymore, is she?”

“I said don’t talk about Chrissy!” Jason repeats, louder than before, when he lets his anger get the best of him. One hand shoots up to shove at Eddie’s chest, using only enough force to make the boy stumble slightly back.

While Dustin, Lucas, and Mike gear up for a fight, Eddie only laughs in response — big, boisterous, and boyish.

You don’t even realize you’re stepping in front of the group until you’re already doing it. The words seem to fly from your mouth without you even thinking about them. “Don’t touch him!” you shout.

And even though it wasn’t particularly loud, it quiets in the mindless bickering all at once. Everyone turns to gape at you — Jason, Andy, Dustin, Eddie. Everyone is equally surprised by your outburst. Because you don’t speak. Ever. At least, not if you can help it.

And it’s not because you don’t have anything to say, because you do. It’s just that your brain works too much, and your mouth can’t keep up with it sometimes. It’s easier just to be silent.

That’s what you’ve been known for ever since you were little. You went through all of it — the bullying, the sad eyes, the talks with teachers, the ‘is everything alright at home’s. Everything was fine, for the most part. Your childhood was equally as middling as everyone else’s. You just had a harder time being human than most people.

Jason smiles again, amused by your warning. “What was that, sweetheart?”

You swallow through a tightening throat. Your sweaty hands clench into balls at your sides. The words come out quieter than before, but no less meaningful. “I said… Don’t touch him.”

“Oh, so she does speak. Here I thought no one ever taught you how to,” the blonde boy laughs. You feel disgusting when his attention settles solely upon you. The lingering sick feeling is eclipsed by your gratitude that Eddie’s no longer in his line of fire. “I’m gonna be honest… I thought you were cuter when you were quiet.”

You don’t know what he means by that. You can’t tell if he’s being genuine, or if he thinks you care enough about what he thinks to slink back into your shell.

“Leave Eddie alone,” you retort drily.

He snorts. “Yeah? Or what?”

There’s a thousand words you want to say. You open your mouth to spit all of them at the boy across from you, but nothing comes out.

“Yeah,” Jason laughs at your silence. “That’s what I thought.”

You stand your ground when he walks towards you. His strides are slow and menacing, like he’s expecting you to back away. You might’ve if you were anywhere else — if Eddie wasn’t a couple feet away and the rest of your friends weren’t crowding behind you. You’re made somehow braver by their presence.

“This is a really cute dress, though, sweetheart,” the blonde boy compliments with a thin smirk. “You should dress like this more often. You know what? You’d really fit in at the strip club downtown— what’s it called?”

“Pink Paradise,” Andy answers without missing a beat.

Jason smacks his lips against his teeth. “That’s the one.”

“Is that the one your mom works at?” you wonder with your arms crossed over your chest. Your head tilts to your shoulder as you squint at him. “Is she still giving those two-for-one discounts?”

Jason’s confidence stutters at your biting reply — even more so by the choked-back laughter accompanying it. Your boys don’t bother to hide their humored giggles, though the basketball team covers theirs by coughing into their fists.

“Ooh. I didn’t know you had such a much on you,” the blonde lilts as his blue eyes narrow. “I’m like… fifty percent more attracted to you now.”

“Leave Eddie alone,” you deadpan once more. “And go be a douchebag somewhere else.”

One of his friends breaks free from the pack. He’s tall, thin, and toned. He’s got the same haircut as Lucas: compact curls, squared off on the sides. You know him — Patrick McKinney. He’s the only one of Jason’s friends that was actually nice to you. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t a total asshole.

“Let’s go, man,” the boy ushers, nudging at Jason’s bicep. “Let’s go shoot some hoops or something. This isn’t worth it.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Oh, please— the only shooting Jason Carver does is into a kleenex. It’s why you were benched all last season.”

“I twisted my ankle!” the blonde boy defends, sounding weak and pathetic beneath the chorus of laughter as Patrick drags him away.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mutter, perhaps too quiet for him to hear, as Lucas pulls at your forearm to guide you in the other direction. His touch is still gentle — it would be uncharacteristic of him to be rough with you. It would also be a terrible idea with Eddie just a few paces behind the both of you.

The walk to The Palace is a silent one. There’s too much to say, and everyone’s just a little too amazed to say it. Eddie, however, never had a hard time killing a quiet. He rushes on long legs to match your quick strides, reaching you rather easily.

“Hey, hey, hey— you okay, babe?” the worried boy wonders. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists when you reach the awning beneath the arcade. His chocolate gaze flits attentively over your form, nowhere near as leering as Jason had been.

He can tell by your heaving chest and glassy eyes that you’re a little overwhelmed. When he takes your face in his hands, he finds that your cheeks are burning, too.

You nod into his warm palms in silent reply, back in the comfort of your shell all over again.

“What’d you do that for, huh?” Eddie singsongs with a quiet laugh. His thumb dances over your cheekbones as he grins at you. “You know I don’t like you getting involved with those assholes.”

“They don’t get to talk to you like that… Or put their hands on you,” you mutter. Despite your soft tone, Eddie can see the fury flashing in your eyes, getting angry about it all over again.

His smile widens — proud and hopelessly in love with you. “No. They don’t. Especially not with my girl around, huh?”

“Nope,” you murmur, popping the p. A sheepish grin pulls at your mouth, equally as proud and in love.

Eddie leans down to kiss you, guiding your mouth to his with the hands cupping your jaw. It’s innocuously chaste, being that you’re still standing in a public parking lot. You could never quite stomach the attention of PDA, anyway. His pink lips lock with yours in a fleeting peck, and his arms wrap around you a second later.

He smothers you into his chest, and you revel in every second of it. He smells like cigarette smoke and the cologne he tried to cover it up with. He smells like a home you could live in forever.

You smile into the thrifted Blondie tee you got him — which he happily accepted because he loves you (even though he hates Blondie). He presses a kiss into your hair and smushes his nose into the crown of it as he laughs.

“‘Is that the one your mom works at?’” Eddie repeats with a soft chuckle, chest swelling with pride once more. “God, babe. That’s good.”

“Shut up…” you murmur.

“I’m serious! I didn’t know you were such a good smack-talker! I think you might be a genius, actually.”

“Don’t,” you grouse with a lighthearted scowl. You pull away from him only slightly — enough for him to put your face back in his hands again. You feel safest there, even if you are pouting up at him.

“You’re so cute,” the boy muses with a beam. His eyes glimmer like a sea of chocolate syrup, melting with all the love he has for you. “You’re like a cinnamon roll. A cinnamon roll that could bite people.”

“That’s exactly what I am,” you monotone and try your best not to smile.

Eddie couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #stranger things x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things #eddie munson #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #eddie munson x shy!reader #bug's summer fic fest!

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heartlilith · 9 months ago

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WHAT THE VENUS SIGNS REMIND ME OF

🩷Oddly specific things I think about when I hear ______ venus

Aries Venus: Summer, rubies, Mr. and Mrs. Smith, rollercoasters, fast cars, the color red, vampire fangs, Saturday nights, liquor stores and gas stations, fireworks, sour candy, cool bic lighters, “you’re mine”, Mario Kart, boys who wear nail polish, fuck it energy, oversized sweatshirts, middle finger emoji, cherries

Taurus Venus: Satin pillowcases, white candles, pearls, mirrors, hand holding, walking someone home at night, vinyls, red lipstick, full lips, fancy dinner dates, the wine and dine, old romantic movies, wallets and purses, hotels, French manicures, old money, “I won’t get on my knees for no man”

Gemini Venus: Driving around at night listening to music, reading to someone, comedy shows, mimosas, Samantha from Sex and the City, libraries, nerd kink, hot teachers/student kink, emerald green, laughter, swing sets, looking out of the window and just watching, untied shoelaces, dogs and puppies, dad jokes

Cancer Venus: Soft feather pillows, a bowl of warm soup, a bubble bath, tears and running mascara, babies and how babies laugh, poetry, “I’ll be whatever you want me to be”, hot tubs, hot coffee, teddy bears, heartbeats, soft hands & skin, lotion, bagels and cream cheese, doodling in your journal

Leo Venus: Lip gloss, mojitos, getting drunk at brunch, diamond tennis bracelets, drunk texts you regret sending later, the block button, lonely nights, shooting stars, blowing bubbles, piggy back rides, art museums, glittery eyeshadow, jumparoos, birthday parties

Virgo Venus: Taking a shower, Dove soap, smooth skin, symmetry, butterflies, the smell of books, getting a facial or going to the spa, chicken caesar salads, the good tasting water, chunky headphones, acoustic guitar, running errands, getting your eyebrows done, neat handwriting, neutral colors, sushi

Libra Venus: Blush, dimples, Y2K fashion, Hello Kitty, makeup skills, those little hand mirrors, princes and princesses, cupcakes, pedicures, Margaritas, taking pictures, art, castles, Disney movies, daisies, spin the bottle, cartwheels, soft hair, bubblegum, skincare, watermelon and pineapple

Scorpio Venus: Psychology, neck tattoos, “until death do us part”, Kings & Queens, snakes, sacred sex, chess, secrets, hickeys, the feeling after you stay up all night, the feeling of being at a concert, roses, knives, tequila shots, legs intertwined, dirty martinis, sparklers, Avril Lavigne, fantasy books, true crime and dark history

Sagittarius Venus: Clouds, rock climbing, rappers, Hip Hop and R&B, going on vacation, açaí bowls and fresh fruit, sun kissed/radiant skin, the color yellow, retreats, history, yoga and Pilates, spicy food, “it is what it is”, curly hair, the smell of weed, casinos, the last day of school, Las Vegas

Capricorn Venus: Leather, red wine, the cow pattern, cowgirl boots, the color brown, espresso, dark chocolate, briefcase of money like in the movies, the movie Scarface, whiskey on the rocks, bosses, owls, turtle necks, caramel, wearing suits, lingerie, business, New York City

Aquarius Venus: Lightbulbs, telescopes and microscopes, LED lights, hamsters, college parties, glitter, peace signs, 70s concerts, food trucks, skipping school, “fuck it”, diving in the pool, the beach at night, disco balls, getting detentions in school

Pisces Venus: Mermaids, kittens, cartoons and Disney princesses, champagne, Webkinz, little kid stories like Goldilocks, 3 Little Pigs, Hansel and Gretel, clear glittery lip gloss, holographic, snowmen and icicles, swimming in the pool, flower gardens, glow sticks , picnics, bumblebees, sand castles, elementary art class, 3D movies

Book a Reading 🩷

Masterlist 🩷

#astrology #astro #astro observations #astrology community #astro community #sagittarius #scorpio #leo #cancer #venus signs #venus #Leo venus #Aries venus #Taurus venus #Scorpio venus

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aoioozora · 3 months ago

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Brown Eyes

Simon had always been conscious of how boring his eyes seemed. They were just brown, plain ol' boring brown and he hated it. He didn't have Johnny's sparkling bright sky blue or Price's ocean blue. His was just plain, boring, brown, the color of dirt.

Not until you came along, you sweet little thing.

"You have pretty eyes," you told him when you first met him. He was shocked.

"Uh, thanks," he could only muster without appearing affected by the compliment.

But whenever you'd speak to him, he'd notice you peering into his eyes with no thought behind your own. You were so distracted by figuring out the shade of brown that his eyes were that you'd not hear a thing he said. Simon was glad that his blushing cheeks were masked.

You were fascinated by his eyes. In the shade they were inky black, an abyss and you found it befitting his mysterious persona. But one day when you were in his office, a ray of evening light slipped in through the cracks of his blinds, settling gently over his eyes. His melanin-rich irises didn't seem bothered by the light in the slightest, and again, you stared.

The brightened abyss was a rich, chocolatey brown, light enough to reveal his normally obscured pupils. His eyelashes fluttered as he blinked, the golden threads of silk delicately shimmering.

"Are you listening to me?"

You snapped out of your daze. "Sir?"

Those same gentle eyes stared back at you; his voice hinted mild annoyance but his eyes reflected an unusual softness, like he wasn't willing to reprimand you.

"Why aren't you paying attention?" he demanded anyway, crossing his burly arms over his chest as he sat back.

You pursed your lips. "I got lost in your eyes, Lieutenant," you admitted with a sheepish, lopsided grin.

He let out a grunt, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks again. He was not going to admit that he was affected by those same words you told him when you first met him and you continued to tell him by always wordlessly staring at him.

He could not lie that he liked your attention; that your relentless gazing was the key wriggling and turning in the lock that kept his heart caged away.

"Why d'you like them so much?" he leaned forward.

You could not help being honest. "They're beautiful," you answered, your voice heavy with genuineness, "They remind me of chocolate, and coffee, and unfrosted cakes." You paused, but he waited.

"Like dense forests, the color of wood," you explained, "Like soil..."

His brows furrowed. Soil that is stepped on. His insecurity filled in.

"Like soil that is the foundation of both massive trees and for the little saplings," you continued, "your eyes are the color of something so important."

The tinge of animosity in his eyes softened.

"You know, in the shade, your eyes are dark and it really suits how mysterious you can be sometimes," you said with a gentle smile, feeling a little embarrassed at this point, "but when in the light," you lifted your eyes to meet his, "I can almost see the gentleness and care that is normally hidden."

He could almost hear the click of a key turning and a lock opening. He knew that the eyes were the window to the soul, but never had he seen such an unprecedented act in action, and him being the victim of such sweet an analysis.

So this was the outcome of all your relentless gazing: to figure him out, to make sense of him, to understand him, to appreciate him.

And for that, his heart was now yours.

[masterlist]

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misspygmypie · 3 months ago

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Gourmet Disaster Cookies - LN4

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader Warning: None Summary: Lando and you bake cookies. What could go wrong?

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Lando’s eyes narrowed at the mess sprawled across the kitchen table. Flour dusted the counter like snow, sugar was scattered like confetti, and an oversized mixing bowl sat in the middle, its contents a questionable shade of brown. Despite the chaos, the smell of fresh-baked cookies wafted through the air, combined with the scent of his frustration.

“Stupid. So stupid. My God. I’m so done with your shit,” he mumbled, shaking his head in exasperation. His dark curls were a mess from running his hands through them repeatedly, flour sprinkled in.

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching Lando with a barely contained smile. “I don’t think you’re actually done with this,” you said, voice dripping with amusement.

Lando shot you a look that could’ve murdered you. “I’m not doing this again,” he said firmly, though you both knew his words were empty threats.

It had started as a simple suggestion: baking cookies together on a lazy Saturday. You had hoped it would be a relaxing activity, a way to spend time together. What you hadn’t anticipated was Lando’s complete lack of ability to produce anything edible in the kitchen.

He had, with great enthusiasm, insisted on making cookies from scratch. You had watched, bemused, as he struggled to measure ingredients, with flour explosions and sugar spills becoming a regular occurrence. The recipe seemed to mock him with each step. When it called for “a pinch of salt,” Lando had interpreted it as “a handful,” resulting in cookies that were both salty and sweet in the most bewildering way.

“Well, you see,” you said, strolling over and peeking into the mixing bowl, “the recipe called for way less salt for starters.”

Lando sighed dramatically, slumping onto one of the barstools that wasn’t covered with some kind of ingredient. “I swear, I followed the instructions. But you were too busy talking about how we should add extra chocolate chips…”

“Hey, extra chocolate chips were a great idea!” you interrupted, though you knew his complaint was valid.

He shot you an incredulous look. “Yes, extra chocolate chips in cookies that taste like cardboard was definitely a great idea.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his defeated expression. “Well, you did say you wanted to make them ‘extra special.’”

Lando rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I wanted them special, not… whatever this is.”

You crossed the kitchen and gently nudged him with your elbow. “Well, how about we try to salvage the situation? Maybe turn this into a fun, new recipe? Like ‘Gourmet Disaster Cookies’?”

Lando’s expression softened, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. “Gourmet Disaster Cookies? Really?”

“Why not?” you said, reaching for the jar of sprinkles and shaking it over the remaining dough. “It’ll be a new culinary adventure.”

He watched, still skeptical but intrigued, as you turned the doughy catastrophe into a playful mess of sprinkles and smiles. “Alright, alright,” he said, shaking his head with a smile. “But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it right. Next time, we’re sticking to pre-made cookie dough.”

You laughed and gave him a playful nudge. “Deal. But for now, let’s just enjoy our ‘Gourmet Disaster Cookies.’”

The two of you sat down with the cookies, which were now covered in a generous layer of colorful sprinkles. The cookies were oddly shaped and unevenly baked, some corners almost charcoal black, some spots suspiciously raw looking - BUT the presentation was kind of festive. You took a bite, exaggeratedly savoring the taste.

“Not bad!” you said through a mouthful, trying to sell them to the curly-haired Brit watching you.

Lando took a cautious bite, and his face lit up in surprise. “You know what? These actually aren’t terrible. They’re weird, but… not terrible.”

As you both laughed and enjoyed the cookies, the kitchen mess seemed to fade into the background. The burnt edges and odd flavors were nothing compared to the joy of the shared experience.

After finishing off the batch, Lando stood up and stretched. “I can’t believe we actually ate those.”

You chuckled, tossing a stray piece of dough into the trash. “We did. And I think we might have created a new tradition.”

Lando grinned, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “Next time, we’re definitely using pre-made dough. But until then, I guess we’ve got our own ‘Gourmet Disaster Cookies’ to remember.”

The day ended with the kitchen still looking like a war zone, but you didn’t mind. As you and Lando cleaned up together, your laughter echoed through the room, making the mess seem less like a disaster and more like a cherished memory.

In the end, it wasn’t about the cookies. It was about the moments you shared, the laughter, and the way even a cooking disaster could turn into a delightful adventure when you had the right partner.

#lando norris #ln4 x reader #lando imagine #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando x reader #f1 #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #lando fluff #landonorris #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff

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steddiealltheway · 1 year ago

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Eddie’s eyes are brown.

At least, that’s what Steve would’ve said before staring into his eyes for…ten seconds? Thirty seconds? Five minutes? … he’s lost track of time.

But the time is certainly not wasted.

Steve’s not sure how he’s never noticed that brown eyes aren’t just brown. It’s a silly thought, and he knows that he should probably know this considering he also has brown eyes, but maybe he’s been too focused on his hair. And maybe he’s been a little too focused on Eddie’s lips…

He fights to glance down at them as Eddie stares back at him, his pupils blown wide, but every now and then when he leans a little to the side, the sunlight from the windows hits his eyes just right and his pupils contract, showing off all the color in his eyes. And Steve loves when this happens.

The brown turns into an almost amber color, deep brown highlighted by hints of warm red and orange. And at the bottom of his eyes, there’s small patches of gold standing out against the deep brown ring that circles the whole iris.

Steve thinks he could get lost in it all and stare for hours.

He leans in a little closer, trying to see more of that gold, and nearly groaning when Eddie shifts away from the light again, eyes becoming such a deep brown that Steve can easily see his reflection.

But he doesn’t want to see himself, he wants to see how that dark chocolate turns into that gold and red in the sunlight.

Then, something Steve didn’t fathom happens.

Eddie closes his eyes.

“Steve won!” Dustin shouts, as the other kids carry on loudly, and Steve is harshly startled back into reality.

A staring contest. That’s what this was supposed to be. A staring contest, not a Steve gets lost in his friend’s eyes for so long that he forgets to blink contest. Christ.

He glances sheepishly at Eddie and takes in all his features, the furrowed brow and the slight frown to his lips as Eddie tugs at a stand of hair.

As the kids file out of the room, moving onto whatever activity is going to keep them entertained next, Steve asks, “Are you that upset about losing?”

Eddie shakes his head and leans forward, staring into Steve’s eyes again. Steve fights not to look too deeply, afraid he’ll get lost in the depths forever if he gives himself the chance.

“I saw something I hadn’t seen before,” Eddie comments, looking back and forth between his two eyes.

“I did too,” Steve admits, allowing himself to stare a bit. He reaches out and pulls Eddie closer to him, getting both his eyes directly in the sunlight. “I see a whiskey my dad used to always keep on his desk, with hints of gold that reminds me of the jewelry my dad got for my mom, back when they still loved each other.”

His heart pounds at the memories, back to a time when things almost seemed normal. When he thought he would always be happy.

Steve shakes his head and glances away, unsure of how the colors he saw before could bring up the deep memories he spewed to Eddie. He changes the subject and asks, “What did you see in mine?”

He expects maybe an analysis of green and brown, or hazel as many girls tell him after staring at him for long enough to make him feel uncomfortable. He wonders why Eddie doesn’t make him feel that way.

A finger lifts Steve’s chin, turning his gaze back to Eddie whose stare sends chills down his spines. “I saw longing,” Eddie states and continues, “Was it for those things? Those memories?”

Steve finds himself shaking his head as his eyes glance down to Eddie’s lips which twitch as he swallows. “Was it longing?” Eddie asks, nervousness seeping into his tone.

Steve glances back at his eyes and nods. It’s not like he’s unaware of his deeper feelings for Eddie, but he didn’t expect to fall so hard in just a few moments as he stared into his eyes. And he definitely didn’t expect to have those emotions read so clearly in his own eyes.

Eddie’s hand slowly moves to cup Steve’s face as he says, “Steve, read my own eyes for a moment. Please see the-”

“Can you guys give us a ride to the arcade?!” Dustin yells from the other room.

Steve sees Eddie’s eyes flash with annoyance which is much different from the loving expression from before.

Loving.

Steve takes a deep breath and steps back as he hears multiple footsteps hurriedly making their way back to the kitchen.

“Did you hear us?” Mike asks, crossing his arms.

“Yeah, yeah,” Steve says, “Get to the car.”

He lingers back with Eddie as he watches all the kids run to his car, and when Steve gets to the door with Eddie behind him, he yells, “Give me a minute, I need to grab my wallet!”

He closes the door quickly and rushes into Eddie’s space, cupping his face, and asking, “Am I reading this wrong?”

“Not at all,” Eddie says, hope and deep longing shining in his eyes.

“Good,” Steve says, leaning forward and meeting Eddie in the middle as they hurriedly kiss, pouring in all the longing they’ve both experienced for months now but were too oblivious to see before.

(Robin laughs for minutes on end when she hears that a staring contest is what got them together when they’ve been having multiple for months without the label. Steve just rolls his eyes, but as soon as Eddie asks, “Want to have another staring contest?” He can’t resist.)

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie ficlet

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kyometeru · 9 months ago

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ძᥲᥡ 1 ~ 𝐿𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑒 [EVENT]

Transfem! Furina x FEM! Reader

–genre. smut, nsfw,

–tw. girl cock, description of furina's cock, breeding, slight perv furina, sub x dom trope, overstimulation, MINORS DNI, creampie, riding, teasing, groping, reader is the same height as her, blow job, ooc furina, tit play, im sorry if you uncomfy with this,

–synopsis. Since Valentine's Day is around the corner, you called Furina in as you wanted to give her a good surprise. She wasn't expecting this.

Mari/yai's message – I've been thinking about an idea like this for a while.

Furina was patiently waiting on the duvet covered bed as you told her to meet her there. She had your favorite flowers, favorite chocolate, and a little teddy bear in her trembling hands. She could feel sweat dripping down her face and she barely could keep her excitement down.

Her foot tapped impatiently on the floor. She kind of spoiled half of the suprise for her. She asked if you got her something amongst chocolate or a teddy bear.

She heard a turning of a door knob come from the bathroom within the room

She turned her gaze towards the door, hoping it was you. And she was right. “A-ah, hey baby!” she waved at you with her eyes closed and a trembling smile. She opened her eyes to see you covered in a silky black (slightly) see through robe with fluff at the hem of it and at the end of the sleeves. Her face a really red by now. If you look closely, you can see her eyes turn into a black and white hypno circle but it didn't move.

You walked over to her with a blank expression lining your face.

You sat close to her, your thighs nearly touching. Both of her legs were trembling too much that it's visible to you now. You placed a hand on her thigh, sliding up and down with your index a ending up at her crotch.

A bulge began to rise on her shorts. A surprisingly big one. “I see you've gotten me something, hm?” you tilted you head and looked at Furina as she frantically looked somewhere else than your face. “Yes, y-yes. H-here!” she gulped and pushed the chocolate box with a brand on it(which were your favorite) towards, your favorite flowers, and a brown teddy bear. you carefully took them and placed them on the nightstand.

“I have that for you too Furi, but I have something extra to give” you places your index finger under her chin which made her immediately lock eye contact with you. “You are really quiet today Furi, what's wrong?” you showed sympathy but in a teasing way that made you voice a bit pitcher.

“Hm? Do you want this?” you dropped your robe to reveal a black lingerie set as if it was meant to be as a sleepwear. It had laced cloth around the bra part of it that it covered right above your thighs but it was see through.

Furina felt as if she was in heaven. She was slightly leaning back and her hands were grasping the covers with a harsh grip and if she had enough strength she could rip them off. “You want to touch me? Come on.” you opened your arms up to her. She quickly went into your arms, burying her burning face in your shoulder. Her bulge was poking at your thigh and it was

Her face was drenched in sweat. Her trembling hands reached down to your ass. You placed your arms around her neck, giving her a warming smile.

Furina noticed your breasts were slipping out of your top. She face planted herself between them which startled you. “Okay Furina calm down, now let me pamper you instead.” you pointed towards the bed(you both were standing fyi) and she obeyed.

You climbed on top of her, straddling her waist. “You should wear less clothing, Furi.” you slid your hand up and down her chest. Your hand went to her shorts, unhooking the button and pulling the zipper down. You slid her underwear down and her dick popped up.

It was an ocean blue color with dark blue line streaks leading up to her pelvis. It was a good tone to her skin. The tip was the same colors as the line streaks. A white bead of precum was at the slit of the tip.

You let out a heartly chuckle and moved down to where her cock was lining up your face. You placed your lips on the tip of her cock and slowly let it seep in until it reaches the back of your throat.

You bobbed your head up and down at a fast but simple pace. Furina clenched her teeth together as she grabbed strands of your hair.

You moved faster as you felt her dick pulsing in your mouth. She came with a loud whine and groan that anyone walking outside the door could hear. You felt thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throat. She was twitching too much now.

You climbed back on top of her to which she let out a gasp too. You slowly sank down onto her thick cock. You moved your panties to the side then sat in front of her dick so it was touching your pussy. It's been a while since you last did it before. Both of your faces were burning. Her moans were getting loud by the second. You closed your eyes as you gave into pleasure.

Whimpers and moans were stuck in Furina's throat. You moved at a simple pace as you bounced on her cock. You leaned your head back and placed your hands on Furina's knees(which were behind you).

Her dick was webbed in your juices. If it wasn't for your closed eyes, you would've seen hearts in her eyes bouncing. Your pussy was just so good for her, she wishes she could spend hours rather than doing her duties.

She wanted to take charge and make you moan louder. She rose up with her trembling arms and grabbed at your waist. Her nails dig into your waist so hard that it left crescent marks. You opened your eyes and looked at her with a startled gasp. Her left hand wrapped around your waist while her right hand took the straps of the bra off your shoulder, revealing your perky breast.

Beads of sweat dripped down your chest. She immediately latched onto your tits. The arm around your waist makes you bounce on her cock faster. She wanted to hear your moans louder now.

Her dick hit your cervix harder now. It's surprising that a short girl like her has a size like that. But hey, size doesn't matter.

“I-i'm gonna come–!” her breaths got harsher. And so as yours. You came on her dick as it sent volts of electricity run through your core. Thick ropes a milky white cum went flying in your insides.

You both were a panting mess as she fell back on the bed. You leaned down and unbuttoned her clothes, revealing her chest. She gasps as you look at her with lust.

“Let's go further Furi, it's Valentine's Day in fact~”

#𓆩ri.𓆪 #[ ♪o(〃＾▽＾〃)o♪ ]#✉️.txt #✎ suggestive 𓆪 #𓆩!smutty.𓆪 #𓆩ri.txt📝𓆪 #furina smut #furina x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader #tranfem character #✎ characters from other clubs #tw:girlcock

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insomniac-dot-ink · 1 month ago

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I can’t go home. There are only a few places open this late and I am walking. I leave a trail of footprints in the powdery snow. The music hall in the middle of town is playing a local band no one has heard of and a single popup store sits outside. I go to the window. The clerk is on her phone in the small cramped cart. Her screen goes dark and she looks up. Her hair is deep brown and tied back so neat and boxy you’d think it was a nun’s habit.

“Hot chocolate,” I say.

The clerk is nonplussed. She takes my money. Her habit-like-hair is stiff and doesn’t shift as she nods and counts my ones. She moves from one end of the little cart to the other with a Styrofoam cup.

She carries the sugar-thick hot chocolate in one hand and it lets out a thick steam. I am sure she made it too hot. She stops. Her gaze draws up and over my shoulder. Her pupils expand and shoulders rise almost to her ears.

She glances at my face and then away again. Her lips are thin and uncolored. She mouths the words like an unskilled ventriloquist, “do you need me to call someone?”

I shake my head and take the cup and the texture is squeaky and flakes off in my grip. I walk. My footprints mark the powder-white snow and my city only has a few places open at this time of night. My legs are numb with cold and my eyes ache from lack of sleep. I am grateful for the street lights which are all a pale blue color that is supposed to help the birds. I am a bird person, I think, if I was going to be anything.

Cars pass and I am grateful for those too. I reach the street of little cramped stores, one after the next. A fabric store. A second-hand book store. Florists and boutique shoe shops. All too charming to be supportive. The Walmart is just outside our small town limits and I can’t go home.

Across the street, the pub has lowlights on and voices rumble like a thunderstorm from within. I don’t think the rest of the town likes the pub. The bar has one long window made up of colored glass in muted reds and blues and yellows. It reminds me of church windows and leaves the impression of making up for it. Making up for being what it is.

I square my shoulders and push my way in. The air is warm and floor a good type of dark wood. The tables are full enough to be considered a party–or, what I imagine a party to be like. I hadn’t noticed the dusting of snow on my hoodie, and shook it off like dandruff.

The man behind the counter gives me a cursory look. He is a big man with a large mouth and wears frowns like he’s making up for something too. “Mark isn’t here,” he says in a further cursory manner. I shake my head and make my way to the counter. I hadn’t finished my hot chocolate and clutch the Styrofoam cup in both hands.

“Warm up?” I ask but Steven Plyer, the barkeep, is looking over my shoulder. He mouths to himself silently like he’s working out a math problem under his breath.

Two men, big and strapping, move away from the bar’s church-like window. They take seats at the end of the bar and Steven Plyer, the barkeep, leans over the counter. His pupils are ink-dipped coins. I fiddle with the ends of my sleeves. He looks over my shoulder just as I push my hot chocolate closer over the counter.

“There’s a whole world out there,” he says.

I close my eyes. “I know.”

“You don’t have to go.”

I shake my head and Steven Plyer takes my hot chocolate and disappears behind the swinging doors to the back. The rest of the men have moved away from the window and sit on either side of me. They murmur in voices too low to hear.

The oldest of them, a man that smells like leather, stands. His voice has a vibrating quality, unsmooth, dragging out the “a’s” like a regal sheep. “Do your parents know?”

Steven Plyer returns with my hot chocolate steaming and passes it to me with both hands. I get up because the old man needs my seat, I think. The first two men huddle by the front door, coats on and heads bent together like prayer, and I leave without them. The snow is no longer powder but inch-thick fluff. I kick up the fluff with each step and the silver hangs about me like fairy lights, I imagine. I take a sip of hot chocolate and it is too hot and too sweet and you can be grateful for that too.

The sidewalk ends and I walk alongside the side of the road just on the edge of the white line. I think I can see the lights of the Walmart beyond the lights of the city. Trees gather on either side and I miss the blue glow of the street lights and the concerned gaze of the clerk in her tiny cart. I wish she had come with me. I wish Steven Plyer had called me by name.

A solitary car passes and its stark white headlights blare against the night, more violent than kind, and I have to shield my eyes. The car is red and large and pulls to stop on the other side of the road. The window rolls down and a curly-haired woman sticks her head out. Her face is small and elfish and mouth pinches together at the corners. She wears a tight shirt buttoned up all the way to her throat like it might hold her in.

The head beams glow perpendicular to me and I regard the woman as she regards me. She is slow to speak. Slower than the men at the bar had been.

“Get in,” she says, buttoned-up to the throat and with eyes more tired than sad.

“No,” I say and take a sip from the hot chocolate. It’s cold.

Her windshields wipe away the snow and she looks over her dashboard. Her voice is breathy in the way of a Hollywood actress from a bygone era. “I’m worried.”

I nod. They all are. “That can be enough.”

Her mouth zips together into an angry line. She sticks her head out the window, close to a snarl, looking past me, and honks her horn in one long blast. I shy away from the noise and the too-brightness of her head beams. She drives with her head out the window, honking her horn over and over again as loud as she can.

I walk and there are no more cars. The snow settles over my shoulders and I don’t bother to dust off my hood or warm my hands. I leave the white line and walk in the middle of the road. The lights of the Walmart warm the night just outside of town and I can make out the outline of parked cars in the distance. They’re aren’t that many places open this late at night.

I slow to a stop and sway a bit, like I'm drunk, I think, if this is what that's like. A second pair of footprints mark the snow in front of me. When had that happened? I tilt my head all the way back. The clouds are bright like daylight and snow growing heavy. I think it will all be glittering when the morning comes.

FIN

My book! 🐈 Newsletter

#short story #flash fiction #campfire story #spilled ink #scary story

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mermaidgirl30 · 2 months ago

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✨Saddle Me Up, Cowboy Part 1: Spin Me Around the Dance Floor✨

Cowboy! Joel Miller x fem! reader

Series Masterlist

A/N: Thank you to @alltheirdamn for encouraging me to write this! Beth Dutton and Rip Wheeler from Yellowstone heavily inspired this short little series. I hope you enjoy 🩷 I just saw @auteurdelabre Trope Off challenge, so I’m tagging this as a meet cute for that!

Chapter Summary: You were only trying to enjoy your drink and watch the different couples spin around the dance floor at your favorite country club, but all that changed when you set your eyes on a certain handsome brown-eyed cowboy.

Rating: 18+ only

Word Count: 4.6k

Tags: Lots of fluff, flirting, pining, two stepping, meet cute at a country western bar, no use y/n, no outbreak au, switching POVs, soft! Joel, summer love, reader has hair

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

The neon lights flash across the busy dance floor as bodies sway back and forth to the slow country tune. Smoke permeates through the air as couples hold each other close and the men spin their lovers around the wooden floor. You love two stepping, love the rustic feel of the bar, love the feel of your jean shorts and fitted cowboy boots. You just love being here on a Friday night in your favorite country bar called Cowboys.

You stir the straw slowly around in your mixed drink, your elbow leaning against the side of the dance floor, toes tapping on the bottom of the barstool. And as you watch the happy couples spin across the floor, you can’t help but wish that was you out there.

When was the last time you came here with a date? Maybe two years.

Sure, you’ve been asked to dance. Took a twirl around the room twice with some nice blonde guy that talked about his job and dogs. But it was just friendly and casual. Just a way to spin around the dance floor a couple of times. It wasn’t a perfect match with your cowboy lover. That’s someone you haven’t met yet.

Tonight, maybe you’d find someone. The one. A girl can dream, and that’s exactly what you do. Dream.

Another two songs fly by as you sip your fruity drink, watching couples come and go on and off the dance floor. A slow Morgan Wallen song floats through the packed room, your eyes roam around the bar, falling on the far right corner. Just when a couple spins out of the way, it clears your view to the opposite side of the dance floor. And oh my God, your heart drops out of your chest.

You nearly choke on the fruity liquid, your jaw dropping straight to the floor. There, right across the room, stands the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

He’s tall, well over six foot. His green button-up flannel clings to strong biceps, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing thick veins that spider down into massive hands. His hair is dark and sandy, silver threaded through his tousled curls and burrowing into the thick beard against his sculpted jawline. He’s tan, dark from working out in the sun, you think. And his eyes look like the color of chocolate almonds from what you can tell under the dim lights. And his smile. Jesus, it could light up an entire room.

Soft. He looks so soft the way he holds the flute of his beer bottle, the way his eyes light up every time he laughs with his friends. And God, you’d kill to see him smile at you like that.

You keep your gaze on him, staring like a child in a candy store, eyeing the last Hershey’s bar on the shelf. And it’s like your first school crush all over. You need to get a hold of yourself, but you just can’t. He’s too tempting, too smoldering, too perfect.

And in the next moment, his eyes are on you.

—

Sweat beads Joel’s forehead as he takes another swig of his beer, a chuckle leaving his lips as Tommy teases Maria and pulls her to his chest. She just laughs and kisses him on the cheek as he wraps her in his leather jacket. Joel wishes he had someone like that. Someone to love as much as Tommy loves her. Maybe someday he would.

“You gonna ask anyone to dance?” Tommy asks, his brown eyes trained on Joel.

“Eventually,” Joel mutters, sighing as he takes another generous sip of the strong alcohol.

“Better before the end of the night,” Tommy laughs, pulling Maria by the hand to the dance floor. Before Tommy turns away, he gives a brotherly shove to Joel’s shoulder and winks. “Pretty girl at twelve o’clock, straight across the room. Go get her, Joel.”

Just as Tommy leaves him with a confused expression, he looks up and freezes the minute he spots you. He gulps and sets his beer on the table, his fingers curling into the wooden tabletop, eyes wide when your eyes meet his.

Big, glittering, beautiful eyes swallow him whole, the swirling lights making them glow even brighter. He catches his breath and has it knocked right back out of his chest again as a shy smile curls against your glossy red lips. He thinks he just fell in love.

Your pretty hair falls in long waves down your shoulders; your low-cut tank top sticking to your sun kissed skin shining under the bright spotlight. It’s like an angel sits before him, and he’s mesmerized. Your tight denim shorts hug your curves, and your tan boots with embroidered butterflies scuff against the barstool. Your pretty eyes flick down to your drink and back up to him repeatedly, sweetly beckoning to him to come ask you to dance.

Shy, sweet, adorable, beautiful. He picks all this out just by looking at your pretty face. And you’re just his type of girl; he already knows it. He thinks you were made just for him to find tonight.

It goes on like clockwork for the next few songs. Shy smiles, locked eyes, hesitation permeating through the thick, smoky air. But he won’t hesitate for long. No. He wants to know you, to dance with you, to take you out, maybe show you his ranch.

He just has to have you. And he will. You’ll be his by the end of the night.

After an encouraging slap on the back from Tommy, he takes one more glance your way and hands his tan cowboy hat to Tommy. Right now he only has one task at hand, and that is to ask the pretty girl to dance. So, he swallows all his nerves and walks across the room, right through the sea of endless bodies.

Right to you.

—

Your cheeks burn hot as you lock eyes again; a flirtatious game you’ve been playing for the past two songs. You practically feel on fire with the way your body reacts every time he looks at you.

Maybe he’ll ask you to dance. You hope he does because you have a feeling being in those big, strong arms would be like jumping into a freshly made bed after a long day at work. Warm and cozy and made just for you.

You bite your bottom lip and laugh as your head drops to the scuffed-up wood, a loose curl falling over your shoulder. How can you already like someone this much when you don’t even know them? Sounds pretty silly, but it gives you tingles in your feet just the same.

This is a good sign.

When you look back up, your heart drops to the floor when you don’t see the handsome man standing across the room anymore. You slide further down in your chair and sigh, letting all the hope fizzle out of your tired body.

He left. You just wanted one dance. That’s all you wanted. One fucking dance.

You sigh quietly and look back out at the spinning bodies on the dance floor, shaking off the growing tears in your eyes. Just when you think one might drop, your body freezes when you hear a husky, deep voice being cleared next to you. When you turn to look at who just interrupted your sulking session, you nearly fall off the barstool.

It’s him. The man with the pretty brown eyes.

“Hi.” His deep voice floats through your ears like a dream, and the music seems to disappear altogether.

“Uhh—hi,” you stammer out, your mouth agape as you watch a small smile curl against his inviting lips.

“‘M sorry if this comes off as rude. But what’s a girl like you doin’ sittin’ on the sidelines, darlin’?” His thick Southern accent drawls out, and your eyes immediately widen when you hear how deep and staccato it sounds. You think you could listen to it all night long.

Darlin’. He called you darlin’.

Your words fail you, so you just brush off his apology and smile. “Can’t a girl enjoy a drink?”

He chuckles and shakes his head, a tousled curl falling into his forehead. You want to brush it back for him. That soft looking sandy hair. “Well, sure ya can. Didn’t answer why you’re sittin’ over here by yourself, though.”

“My friends are dancing,” you shrug, spinning your straw nervously in your drink, letting the liquid slosh around the sides.

“Now how come a pretty thing like you ain’t out there with ‘em? Hmm?” His thick eyebrows raise in question, and another dreamy smile meets his face.

God, he’s so handsome.

“Oh, I dunno. Was just watching,” you answer nonchalantly, not pointing out the fact that they’re all taken and you’re not.

He hums to himself, his eyes flicking to the dance floor and back to you after a few seconds. “You wanna dance?” he asks softly, his chocolate eyes sparkling in the hope that you’ll say yes.

“Huh?” you say off guard, your eyes wide at the question.

He just asked you to dance.

“Do you wanna dance with me?” he asks again, nudging the side of your boot with his own worn leather boot.

“You’re asking me to dance?” you question.

“Ain’t that what I asked?” he chuckles, causing your stomach to somersault with the way his infectious laugh is making you feel. All warm and tingly.

“Oh. I umm—okay,” you smile shyly, looking up through your long eyelashes at him.

“Is that a yes, darlin’?” he asks with a big smile.

“Yes, I’d love to,” you confirm with a nod.

“Well, c’mon then.” He holds out his open palm, and you don’t hesitate to take it.

Warm. He’s so warm. Rough, calloused hands that hold yours perfectly. A match made in heaven.

He leads you to the middle of the dance floor, careful not to get in the way of any other couples. And then he slowly slips a hand around your waist, the other securely latched to your hand, his fingers laced through yours. And when he starts to lead the dance, you follow right after him.

The bright lights land over him, putting his beautiful eyes right on display for you. Your breath catches when you see how soft his eyes are. Dark brown like the color of honey and onyx flecks swirling in his irises that hypnotize you to him. He’s absolutely beautiful. You’ve never seen eyes as pretty as his; ones that draw you right in. And the way he’s looking at you, all soft and like he’s looking at the most beautiful girl in the world makes your knees a little wobbly.

The neon signs on the walls glow in the distance, the melodic tune of a Scotty McCreery song floats in the background while couples dance around you. Joel leads you around the dance floor, holding you tight and never once stepping on your feet.

You scuff your boot over his toes out of nervousness, but he doesn’t say anything about it. He just chuckles and pulls you closer to where you can feel his steady heartbeat against your chest, his brown eyes staring into yours like he’s enamored by you. But he’s got your full attention, and you’re so into him already.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks, his Southern drawl completely melting you at the sweet sound. You tell him yours and when your name slips off his tongue, you nearly fall to your knees in awe.

“And yours? What’s yours, Cowboy?” you ask over the loud couple that whips around you.

“Cowboy, huh? Already got a nickname for me, sweetheart?” he chuckles, eyes lighting up at the nickname like he wants you to say it again. And maybe you will.

“Maybe so,” you giggle, relaxing into the dance as he spins you around in circles, the lights following your movements.

“The name’s Joel. Joel Miller.” He tips his head and gives you a big smile. You can’t help but giggle every time he smiles at you. It’s like you’re in first grade all over, and Joel’s the new, cute boy that’s caught your attention in class.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Joel.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, sweetheart,” he smiles, keeping you close to his warm body. You let out another nervous giggle, and it just makes him smile wider like he’s addicted to your laugh.

“I like your laugh, darlin’. Could listen to it all night,” he sighs dreamily, chocolate eyes melting as he looks intensely at you, honing in on just you while the rest of the room disappears. Your breath hitches for just a second, and then you melt right back into him.

“Well, I like your brown eyes,” you lull, your eyes locked on his pretty pools of honey. You giggle when he blushes, and then a dimple indents into his left cheek when he smiles. And God, you think you just fell in love.

“And your smile. I love your pretty smile. It lights up a room, darlin’. And you lit up the whole damn bar tonight,” he drawls, his warm breath fanning over your open mouth, gawking at this handsome gentleman.

He’s fucking perfect.

He lifts his arm and spins you around in a complete circle, his large hand finding your hip again and pulling you back into his broad chest. And there you are, completely breathless again.

“So, Cowboy. What made you want to come ask me to dance?” you ask, curiosity circling in your wide eyes.

“Saw you from across the room, and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you,” he answers honestly with the ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Me?” you ask, taken aback.

“Yes, you,” he chuckles as he guides you across the polished dance floor.

“There’s a hundred other girls in here who’ve had their eyes on you all night,” you scoff in a playful way.

“Oh? Is that so?” An eyebrow lifts in piqued interest, but his eyes still don’t leave yours. They stay glued to you.

“Mhm,” you hum in confirmation.

“That means you’ve been watchin’ me too, ain’t that right?” he smirks devilishly, his brown eyes darkening just slightly.

“No I—no. That’s not…” you stutter, at a loss for words. You were watching him. Ever since you saw him across the room; that damn smile that has your head spinning.

“S’alright, sweetheart. Wasn’t tryin’ to get you all flustered now,” he chuckles, obviously trying to get you flustered. He doesn’t have to try hard because you’re already overly flustered.

“I’m not flustered,” you scoff, your cheeks burning hotter with every second his chocolate eyes are on you.

“No? Well, you’re pretty cute when you’re blushin’, darlin’. Maybe I want you flustered,” he grins, a beautiful smile curling against his plush lips.

“Careful, Cowboy. You might be the one blushing next,” you tease, narrowing your eyes playfully in response.

“I’d like to see you try, sweetheart,” he challenges, his eyes growing into a soft syrupy color you want to drown in.

“Maybe I will, brown eyes,” you say with the flash of a smile.

“Brown eyes, huh? Kinda like the sound of that.” His pretty eyes are genuine when he says it, like it’s the best thing you’ve said this whole dance. And the pink that marinates around his dark scruff tells you enough. He does like it.

You smirk in knowing and wink playfully his way, creating a deeper blush on his tanned skin. It makes your heart skip a beat. “Good, now you’re the one blushing.”

He shakes his tousled curls and sighs, his eyes alight with an enamored glow. “Christ, you’re adorable.”

“If you say so, Cowboy,” you say, letting him continue the dance even though there’s a new song booming from the overhead speakers.

He wraps his large hand tighter against your waist, and you let his other gently glide up and down the back of your hand. A caress that’s laced with care.

“I do say so, sweetheart,” he chuckles warmly. “But you wanna know the real reason why I asked you to dance?”

You keep your eyes trained on the glow of his and squint carefully. “Tell me.”

He takes a deep breath and smiles shyly. “The reason I asked you is ‘cause I thought you were the prettiest girl in the room.”

Your mouth gawks open in shock. He thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the room? Wow. “Me? Are you sure you picked the right girl?”

“Yes, you,” he nods, his thumb stroking against your soft skin. An affirmation of what? Care, admiration, love?

“You think I’m… pretty?” you ask hesitantly, your voice quiet and meek. He can’t think you’re the prettiest girl. There’s no way.

“Mhm. Gorgeous. And your eyes. Absolutely beautiful, sweetheart. They make the lights in here look dim with how bright yours shine.”

You stare in amazement at him, eyes as wide as an owl’s gawking at the man with pretty brown eyes who swept you off your feet. You’re falling into places you’ve never been, and you’re quite scared of how many feelings are bubbling up inside you already. But at this moment, you don’t care. All you can do is stare at him affectionately as he spins you around the room.

He’s perfect.

“So, what does a pretty girl like you do for work, sweetheart?” he asks, molton brown eyes glazing into yours, making you audibly gasp how pretty they are.

“I’m a vet assistant.”

“Vet assistant, huh? You ever work on cattle, by chance?” His wide brown eyes are full of hope, and a smile tugs at his lips.

“Unfortunately no. Just dogs and cats mostly. Why? You got some cattle, Cowboy?” Your eyebrow arches, and a mischievous smirk curls over your mouth.

He chuckles and nods his head. “As a matter of fact, I do. I own a ranch,” he says proudly, standing a little taller, making your face hurt from smiling so damn much at him.

“So you are a Cowboy. I knew it,” you giggle. “What kind of animals do you have?”

“Tons,” he says, the neon lights glowing over his tousled curls. “Horses, cows, bulls, chickens, sheep, dogs, and the list goes on.”

“My, my. You got your hands full. Don’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, fluttering your eyelashes flirtatiously up at him. You like him even more now.

“Reckon I do,” he chuckles, his thumb tracing light circles against the back of your hand, eliciting goosebumps down your arms.

“Too full to handle one more thing?” you question, giving him your best puppy dog eyes that you can manage.

He shakes his head and smiles warmly. “If that one thing is you then ‘course not. Got all the room for you, darlin’.”

Your eyes soften into liquid and your head is spinning as you stare at this beautiful man. You’re already falling head over heels, and you think he is too.

“You ever ride a horse before?” he asks, tilting his head like he’s assessing you.

You shake your head in response. “I mean, when I was little I rode on a pony. But a horse? No. Can’t say that I have.”

“You wanna learn? Got a stallion back at home that has your name on the saddle.” His smile is breathtaking, just like his honey-colored eyes. Your heart gallops in your chest like hooves pounding on the ground. He wants to teach you how to ride?

“You really plan on teaching me?” Your eyebrows pinch together, hesitation stuck on your tongue.

He nods, a fleeting smile meeting his beautiful eyes. “Consider it our first date, darlin’. Gonna turn you into a little cowgirl.”

“Oh, a cowgirl, huh? Is that what I’m going to be?” you giggle flirtatiously, and he picks right back up on it as he winks at you.

“S’right. My cowgirl.”

My cowgirl.

Your heart gets stuck in your throat, words lodged deep inside. So you do what you can do. Smile and trace your fingertips across his broad shoulder, letting the soft flannel graze against your smooth skin.

As the song slows to a halt, you find the opportunity to wrap both of your arms tightly around his neck, nuzzling your face into the soft fabric of his flannel. His arms circle your hips, and one hand gently runs up and down your lower back, sending electricity zapping through your nerve endings.

You smell him now. His woodsy cologne, the hint of sweet beer on the tip of his tongue, faint scents of smoke on his collar, the scent of leather in the air. He smells like your favorite scent all mixed together, combined into the perfect formula to get you drunk off him. And you’d gladly get drunk off him.

“Lady May” by Tyler Childers plays through the speakers; the slow song sending the mood of the bar into a romantic, all consuming type of way. Love’s permeating through the air, and you can feel it everywhere. It tingles in your toes, brushes like a breeze through your hair, spirals down the back of your spine, floods your heart with warmth you’ve never felt before, makes your eyes sparkle like starlight through the bright lights, landing right in the palm of Joel.

Put your toes down in the water. And a smile across your face. And tell me that you love me. Lovely Lady May.

He pulls you closer, where your chin is tucked against the crook of his neck, his woodsy cologne making you feel a bit dizzy.

Now I ain’t the sharpest chisel that your hands have ever held. But, darling, I could love you well.

Lovely lady May.

His lips brush over the crown of your head, his fingertips lighting your nerve endings on complete fire, sparks igniting in his caramel eyes. The way he’s looking at you makes you think he’s already in love with you. And maybe you’ve already fallen in love with him, too.

As the music slows, he dips you low, not daring to let your back touch the scuffed-up wood. When he pulls you back up, he brings you flush to his broad chest, and his scent is everywhere.

His brown eyes sparkle like glitter, shooting stars that only you can make a wish on in the clear night sky. And his smile. My God, you’ve never seen anything as beautiful as him before.

He gently brushes a loose curl behind your ear, lingering his calloused fingertips down your jawline, ending right under your chin where he stills. The room melts away, the noisy crowd disappearing as the song completely takes a hold of you.

But I’m baptized in your name. Lovely Lady May.

His thumb slowly traces your bottom lip, leaving invisible marks that’ll stick like permanent ink, branding you as his own. The way he’s staring at you all soft and deeply makes you melt into him even more.

One more trace, one more shy smile, and he’s asking. “Darlin’?”

“Yes?” you ask breathlessly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, his Southern drawl sounding lovestruck and angelic. “And thank you for allowin’ me to dance with the prettiest girl in the room. But there’s jus’ one more thing I’d like to do.” His mouth drops a little lower, and your breath hitches.

“And what’s that?” you ask, lilting at his soft smile.

“I’d really like to kiss you…” he breathes, his deep timbre shaky as his brown eyes melt into you.

You lean up on your tiptoes, blowing your breath over his open lips. “Then kiss me, Cowboy…” you whisper out.

He cups your face the next second and leans in, crashing his lips down on yours without any hesitation. And he draws you in like a moth to a flame.

His lips are soft like velvet, and he tastes like your new favorite flavor. Blue moon, sweet and savory with a hint of smoke and mint marinating on his tongue.

And then your lips become his as you fall like rain into his kiss.

Mint. Blue Moon. Smoke. Velvet. Cedar Wood. Leather.

He’s all you know now.

You stay like that for minutes, connected like webs to each other in the middle of the dance floor as couples swirl in a colorful blur around you. When the two of you finally disconnect from each other’s lips, a big smile curls against his mouth and his pretty brown eyes look like they’re laced with love the longer he looks at you.

He brushes his thumb against your lower lip and leans in close, his lips tracing the shell of your ear. “You taste like mine, darlin’.”

And that’s when you fall head over heels for the Cowboy that snatched your heart and made you his own.

He pulls you in for another dance, and you let him lead you through another song which turns into another and another and another. You lose count. All you know is that you’d dance all night with him if you could.

After over an hour of twirling around the dance floor with him, he buys you a drink and leads you over to two barstools. You end up with your legs sprawled over his lap, his fingertips tracing lines over your thighs, his lips brushing over your cheek while he places his cowboy hat on top of your head, claiming you as his own.

You end up meeting Joel’s brother, Tommy, and his wife, Maria. And you spend all night laughing and flirting with Joel while you bond over music and shared interests. Turns out you have a lot in common.

It’s the way his smile stops your heart and his brown eyes that send your head spinning. It’s the way he calls you his girl and the way he can’t keep his hands off you for even a second. You’ve never been this wrapped up in a guy before, but you’ve never met a handsome gentleman like Joel. A cowboy that won your heart over the second he looked at you.

He ends the night by driving you home, walking you up to your door, pulling you against his broad chest as his thumb traces lightly against your skin affectionately. You don’t want to say goodnight.

“So, pretty girl. How ’bout I pick you up at 4:00 o’clock tomorrow? Can give you your first ridin’ lesson, maybe watch the sunset from the back of my truck. Can tell you how beautiful you look under the stars,” he drawls, his brown eyes sparkling under the moonlight.

He has you reeled in, pulling you in like he just lassoed his way into your heart.

“Quite the romantic type. Aren’t you, Cowboy?” you blush, lacing your fingers through his tousled curls.

“That I am,” he chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist as he pulls you tighter against him. “So, what do ya say, Cowgirl? You gonna let me take you on that date?”

“Pick me up at 4:00, and I’m all yours.”

“All mine?” he smiles, his warm breath fanning over your lips.

“All yours,” you confirm.

He pulls you in for a slow, romantic kiss, letting it linger as the stars twinkle above your porch. You’re never going to get tired of his kisses, his soft Southern drawl, his big brown eyes. You’re only going to grow more in love with him every day. And you’ll let it grow like a wildfire that consumes you whole.

This was only the beginning. The beginning of a perfect summer love that would never fade away.

Tags for those that were interested: @mountainsandmayhem @alltheirdamn @lotusbxtch @almostfoxglove @burntheedges

@jasminedragoon @inept-the-magnificent @magpiepills @almostempty @aurorawritestoescape

@milla-frenchy @pedrospatch @thundermartini @lanaispunk @sawymredfox @ace-turned-confused

@stylesispunk @there1snothingleft4u @littlevenicebitch69 @tuquoquebrute @ajw-23

#joel miller #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #Cowboy!Joel #joel miller fic #cowboy #no use of y/n #no outbreak au #joel miller fluff #tropeoff2024

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deunmiu-dessie · 5 months ago

Text

ⅹ▬ ⁽ 𝒹𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑜𝓃 ⁾ ¹

part two

𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉 ♡︎ : ₁₀˖₆ₖ ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡

𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 ♡︎ : slightly edited, talk of death, suicidal thoughts (??) ₍⑅ᐢ..ᐢ₎

૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა ʳᵃʷʳ ⁿᵒᵗᵉˢ : i had to split this into two parts since the entire one-shot might be at least 20k words long. there is no smut in this but in order to understand the second part i'll be writing, you'll need to read this! also, if you've read my demon one-shot, there's a little hint at these worlds colliding, let me know if you find where that is 😌

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎 ♡︎ : you, the princess of the jade empire, are on the run from your tyrannical uncle who is hell-bent on taking the throne for himself. following the death of your family members, you stand as the sole surviving royal descendant. as the unforgiving winter of the north looms closer and you find yourself without shelter, your desire for vengeance is set aside. stranded in a dark cavern, you struggle to stay alive and search for sustenance. but as you delve deeper into the cave, you unknowingly awaken a sinister creature lurking in the shadows, waiting to consume you whole.

꒰m!dragon ₊⊹ afab!reader꒱

“ℳ y lady, you must go now!”

What had your world come to? And why now?

You stand there, overwhelmed and devastated as Eunice, your personal maid, thrusts a satchel into your quivering, awaiting hands, her eyes of umber brown are widened and her lips quiver with dread— she was terrified, and rightfully so. She was soon to meet her end, and yet she was accepting it with ease, so much so that it made your heart thump painfully within your ribcage.

Eunice was an older woman with greying, thick brown hair that usually framed her heart-shaped face perfectly, but it was now strewn about aimlessly at the top of her head in the midst of utter chaos. Her eyes were the faultless color of brown which held just the tiniest specks of hazel. Within the depths of those chocolate pools, a previously unseen emotion emerges, leaving your hands sweaty and your face pale.

You shake your head softly at her command, clutching her wrist within your clammy hands, pulling her along with you. "Come, come with me, Eunice, let us flee together!" you beg frantically, tears streaming down your face in heavy rivulets, your mind throbbing with an impending migraine. Your watery, scared eyes make Eunice’s stomach twist torturously— she who had taken care of you since you were a child, could only force a wobbly smile.

Eunice's heart trembles with fear at the thought of her death. The mere concept of dying was a chilling specter that haunted her every waking moment. No one willingly wished to die. However, when it came to you, the child she had considered her own? Eunice would willingly embrace death a thousand times over if she had to.

She couldn't bear to watch you die, not like this, especially when there was still a chance for you to live, to experience the pleasures of life, and perhaps even create a family of your own one day.

With her resolve solidified, the woman firmly withdraws her arm from your grasp and gently pushes against your shoulders. “I cannot. I will stay, buy you time,” she whispers. The distant echoes of battle cries resonate in the distance, and Eunice swiftly guides you toward the concealed passage nestled within your chamber.

"This path shall guide you to Thaos Village within three sunsets. It is my hometown, seek out Geoffrey Jill. Remember My Lady, be smart, be alert. Do not trust anyone, the Kingdom is your enemy.” Her voice trembles, yet even amidst this harrowing ordeal, she maintains her composure, selflessly offering herself as a sacrifice.

You’d always been a stubborn child, Eunice used to playfully say that you got it from your Father. He was a formidable figure, unwavering in his decisions, and she saw that same strength in you as a child.

With glazed eyes, you looked on to Eunice with persistence. Your hands twitching at your sides to grasp at her frayed garments, wanting to tug on them with earnestness, a commemoration to the youth you once were.

However, she couldn't help but wonder if she had been too sharp with you during your moments of defiance. Perhaps if she had indulged your rebellious spirit, you would've dragged her along to escape rather than sit arguing with her about it. This notion evoked a sense of self-centeredness within Eunice, as she contemplated her yearning for survival. The longing for life above all else was an inherent trait in human beings after all.

Her throat constricts as you swallow thickly, your head nodding with a heavy reluctance. Drawing Eunice closer, you envelop her in your arms, feeling the weight of her absence already settling in your chest. “I will miss you dearly,” you whisper, your heart skipping a beat before throbbing painfully against your breast. Her delicate arms wrap around your waist, her tear-stained face seeking solace in the curve of your neck; and her tears searing into your flesh, eternally marking you. "And I, my lady, shall forever carry your memory."

With a heavy heart, she lets out a hiccuping sob, it’s heavy and distraught– painful. Before abruptly pushing you into the dark passage. With a haunting intensity, she leans against the door, sealing you in. "Now go, My Lady. We shall meet again." Eunice grins, it's etched with weathered smile lines and a small dimple that imprints on the bottom left corner of her mouth, and it's gut-wrenching to see it as her final farewell to you.

The weighty door crashes closed, its resounding echo reverberating through the air causing you to crumple onto the stony floor, tears muddying your sight and sobs wracking your body. The satchel she has given you feels leaden in your grip, its contents unknown but undoubtedly important for your survival outside the unfamiliar palace wall.

Before you can gather yourself from your hunched position, you startle at a dull sound of noise beyond the thick passage wall. While your lips tremble with trepidation, you gently lean your ear against the door, desperately yearning to catch even the faintest whisper. And there it is, piercing through the thick barrier of the passage door - the deep resonance of your Uncle's voice, reverberating in your mind like a haunting wail.

The tempest raging inside you teeters on the edge of an eruption, stoked by the ghostly memories of a man who once held a special place in your heart, a man you revered and faithfully trailed. But now, he’s the man who mercilessly slaughtered your entire family, driven by his insatiable thirst for power and a birthright that rightfully belonged to another.

However, his unappeasable greed eventually caused him to become careless, and amidst the bloodbath of your twentieth name-day, Eunice found an opportunity to aid in your escape. Yet, in just a few hours, your Uncle and his soldiers managed to infiltrate your section of the palace. Eunice, informed by the guards posted near your quarters, unveiled a hidden passage to you in a last-ditch effort. Your world had crumbled in a matter of moments.

“Do not feign ignorance in my presence, woman. My niece, where has she gone?”

You find yourself drawn back into the moment, where Eunice's unwavering silence lingers in the air. A sense of unease mixed with anticipation twists in your stomach. In an instant, a sharp sound echoes through the room, accompanied by Eunice's anguished wail. Overwhelmed, you reflexively muffle your gasp with a quivering hand, hot tears streaming down your flushed cheeks.

“I will ask you once more–” His words are abruptly halted and a hush descends upon the room as if time itself has frozen. In the stillness, the piercing sound of a blade being unsheathed pierces the air, followed by the steady voice of Eunice, filled with unwavering resolve. “Go to hell.” These are the last words that reach your ears before a sickening thud echoes— signifying her gruesome decapitation.

The acrid bitterness of bile scorches your throat, causing your eyebrows to furrow as you suppress the urge to retch. Tears well up in your eyes, stinging like venomous drops. With a burdened soul, you inhale shallow breaths, feeling your heart pound relentlessly within your chest. Rising unsteadily, you clutch the satchel tightly to your breast, all while his voice booms out furiously, demanding, "Find her! Now!"

Hobbling along the path, you descend into the darkness of the passage, your thoughts consumed by Eunice and the peril that awaited you beyond the safety of the palace walls. Outside the Palace, the Kingdom was a relatively foreign land to you; your parents had taken great pains to shelter you and your siblings from the outside world.

As the eldest child, you had always harbored suspicions, for as the future ruler, it was your duty to be well-versed in the inner workings of the Jade Kingdom. But you dared not challenge their authority; after all, they were your parents. All they wanted to do was protect you. Right?

But now, as you make your way through the dark and winding passage, you can't help but feel a sense of unease creeping over you. Eunice's cryptic message left you with more questions than answers, and you couldn't shake the feeling that something sinister was at play in the Kingdom. Your parent's secrets could now cost you your life, all because you didn't know what to expect from journeying outside.

Shaking your head, you realize it was not the time to cast blame upon the dead; you needed to clear your mind and concentrate.

The hidden passage leads you through a labyrinth of tunnels, its walls damp and cold. The atmosphere hung heavy with the pungent aroma of soil and mildew, suffocating your every breath. But you press on, driven by the urgency of the situation and the haunting image of Eunice's selfless act.

As you meander through the never-ending hallway, time dissolves into obscurity, lost in the depths of darkness. But then, a delicate fragrance of flowers wafts through the air, piercing the stagnant atmosphere. The scent dances around you, a fleeting moment of clarity amidst the chaos.

In this desolate and forsaken corridor, it becomes your lifeline, a glimmer of hope in the face of despair. It whispers sweet promises of safety and freedom, offering a respite from the relentless onslaught of confusion and fear. With each breath, the aroma seeps into your very being, until finally, you stumble upon a door.

Emerging from the underground maze, you find yourself in a desolate courtyard garden, surrounded by towering walls that seem to close in on you. The sounds of battle echo through the air, growing louder and more menacing with each passing moment.

The relentless ticking of time pushes you to move quickly, and with a sense of dread, you scuttle towards a weathered wooden door seamlessly melded into the formidable barrier, shrouding yourself beneath the protective embrace of your hood.

You steal a final look at your home, a shiver running down your spine as it’s consumed by flames. The echoes of joy and warmth that once filled the walls now fade into the crackling of fire and the scent of smoke. The devastation grips your heart, the realization sinking in that the haven you cherished is now a haunting relic of the past. The charred remains stand as a grim reminder of what once was, a place now lost to the merciless fire. A place that was no longer.

Time seems to slip through your fingers like sand as you wander along the road. Your footsteps have carried you through its endless expanse, and though it seems like an eternity since you’ve started, it might have merely been a few fleeting hours. You can still see the billowing smoke of your home lingering on the horizon, the ghostly remnants of your past life looming behind you, a chilling reminder of what once was and can never be again.

The cold breeze nips at your fingertips and cheeks, attempting to penetrate the layers of your clothing and suffocate you in its icy embrace. With rapid, heated breaths, you valiantly defy its persistent advances, feeling your bones shiver beneath your flesh as you fight to retain warmth.

As the sun starts its slow descent, your nerves start to unravel, the fleeting warmth it provides fading away within the hour. The thought of navigating these paths in the dark filled you with unease, unsure of what creatures may be hiding in the shadows of the woods.

The sun's radiant beams gradually retreat, stretching out elongated shadows over the terrain, and a feeling of unease starts to crawl up your spine. The once comforting warmth that the sun had bestowed upon you throughout the day now dissipates, leaving behind a chilling gust of northern winds.

As the sky transforms into a canvas of dusky hues, the once vibrant landscape takes on an eerie stillness. The chirping of birds and the rustling of leaves are replaced by an unsettling silence, broken only by the distant hoot of an owl or the haunting howl of a lone wolf. The encroaching darkness seems to awaken fears that lay dormant within the depths of your mind.

The road ahead appeared to stretch endlessly, its twists and turns becoming more disorienting with each passing moment. The gnarled branches of the trees reached out like skeletal fingers, casting eerie silhouettes against the sky. The once ‘familiar’ surroundings now come off as distorted and unfamiliar, as if the very essence of the oncoming night had transformed them into something otherworldly.

And though part of you wanted to keep moving, to get as far away as you could, this was not the time to be negligent and risk losing your way or, even worse, losing your life. Not when the fate of the Kingdom rested on your shoulders. Sighing shakily, you deviate off the trail and make your way into the woods, seeking refuge amidst a gathering of trees and vegetation.

The frigid ground greets you with a harsh embrace as you sit down, the cold seeping through your clothes and freezing your body further. Sorting through the hefty satchel, a rush of emotions overwhelms you when you uncover a soft wool covering, a beloved reminder of days when you were younger. As you unfurl the blanket, you lay down, finding yourself nestled on the forest ground, tucking the satchel beneath your head for a bit of comfort, and wrapping yourself up tightly to ward off the chill.

The hushed rustling of foliage and the indelible chirping of crickets lull you into a state of eerie wakefulness. The fast-fading light seeps through the dense leaves above, casting an unnerving ray over the forest. The fragrance of pine and soil permeates your nose, pacifying your thoughts if only for a moment.

However, the life of the woodland is shattered by the haunting echo of horses in the distance, the flora and fauna within the forest coming to a bone-chilling standstill. Every breath you take feels like a desperate struggle, as if the air itself is suffocating you. The trees seem to whisper warnings to each other, their leaves rustling in fear for you.

You can feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, a primal instinct urging you to flee from whatever unseen danger lurks in the darkness, but you’re rooted to the spot, unable to move as the ghostly hooves draw nearer. With a sense of anticipation, you sink further into the smothering embrace of the thick foliage, clutching your quivering legs tightly to your shivering body.

“She couldn't have gotten far while on foot! Spread out and find her!”

Shivers skitter down your back, it was Dominic, your Uncle’s son. The echo of his once comforting voice sends tremors down your spine, a startling reminder of the past. Who could have imagined he would also be involved in the massacre of your family? The very cousin who playfully showed you how to handle a sword, how to scale trees, and capture frogs. The very cousin who had once held a special place in your heart, akin to that of a beloved brother.

You couldn't help but wonder what had led him and his father down this path of destruction. What demons had possessed them to betray their own family, to turn against those who had loved and cared for them? The questions swirled in your mind, but the answers remained elusive.

The thundering hooves fade into the night, causing you to release a trembling sigh, yet you freeze at the eerie sound of a horse's whinny. “I know you're there, cousin. Your tracks have betrayed you." You stay quiet, wondering if he is testing to see if you will flee, to confirm your presence. The echo of his words fills the night air with a chilling sense of pain, it's sorrowful, and desolate as he utters again.

“Make sure that your tracks are well-hidden and keep off the main roads. It would be wise to depart the Kingdom immediately, go as far as you must, until nay even whispers of the King's death are uttered. My father, he will never stop, he will hunt you down relentlessly, until he claims your head, cousin."

Tears well up in your eyes, causing a sharp sting as you blink them back, your stomach knotting with anxiety– perhaps he did know you were here. “Be smart, trust no one, for even the most innocent faces may hide ulterior motives. Stay one step ahead. You must survive if you want revenge for Unc— the King, Queen, and Royal Highnesses.”

He falls into a chilling silence, and for a fleeting moment, you swear you hear a faint sniffle. "I never wished for any of this, trust me," he whispers. And then he’s galloping away, further and further until you hear him no more. As his presence dissipates, you finally let yourself weep with sobs that darken your vision, and tears that turn frigid upon meeting your cheeks.

The weight of his words lingers in the air, haunting you as you lay alone in the darkness. The truth of his revelation slices through you, sharp as a blade, leaving you adrift and lost. You try to make sense of it all, but the pieces of the puzzle refuse to fit together.

You try to shake off the feeling of despair that threatens to consume you, but it clings to you like a shadow.

Reflecting on the events that led you to this wretched state, a myriad of questions plague your mind. How did the path you once tread, filled with hope and promise, veer so drastically off course? What unseen forces conspired to orchestrate this cruel twist of fate, leaving you stranded in a world of darkness and unfamiliarity? You wonder how such a sinister fate befell you. Your mind whirls in a frenzy, grappling with these haunting questions until exhaustion finally claims you, dragging you into a restless slumber tormented by blood-curdling visions.

As the night drags on, sleep remains elusive, antagonizing you with its restless grip. It's not until the first light of dawn filters through the twisted branches above that your mind finally succumbs to sleep, allowing you a fleeting moment of respite.

As you embrace the peaceful caress of sleep, a faint sense of consciousness lingers. The real world has its challenges and griefs, however, they seem almost insignificant when compared to the terrors that haunt your dreams.

If asked to choose between facing the bitterness of reality or the torment of your nightmares; you'd rather brave the acrimony of the real world over the haunting dreams of days long gone.

It’s when the sun reaches high in the sky that you rouse from your unfulfilling nap. But as you pry your eyes open, which are almost sealed by the bone-chilling cold of the North, you are welcomed not by the sight of frost-laden greenery or the towering yellow Cyprus tree that stood tall yesterday.

Instead, a face is peering down at you. A countenance that has only existed within the pages of books and tales of caution.

It’s a Romog, a magical beast similar to dogs yet towering in size like battle wolves. From what you've read, Romog's are renowned for their savagery, and their prowess in combat. Their hide and sinew possess an almost outlandish thickness and strength, rendering them almost impossible to kill. Even the most seasoned of knights have stumbled in their endeavors to hunt these formidable creatures.

And since Romog's are known for their exceptional tracking abilities, enforce wizards often form magical pacts with them to harness their talent. Their keen sense of smell and knack for locating elusive targets made them indispensable companions in the realm of magic. However, as it perched on your legs, its tongue lolling and panting deeply, you couldn't help but ponder why it had not yet chosen to devour you. ( You also guessed that your lack of chill throughout the early morning was thanks to the mutt. )

Why was it here?

Your breath hitches in your throat and you swallow thickly, a tremor dancing down your backbone. The Romog's cranium tilts to one side, its gaze overflowing with unsettling fascination before it inclines closer, its sleek tongue sinuously gliding forth to caress your cheek, the coarse texture catching at your skin.

“Ugh! Disgusting!”

You swiftly wipe away the wet warmth from your cheek, your upper lip curling with revulsion. The Romog, looking innocent, emits a low growl before clambering off of you, its tail wagging frantically. You observe its every movement cautiously, yet you find a morsel of comfort as it nudges you with its massive snout, darting away to perform a playful bow before dashing toward you for another gentle nudge.

�� Fear dissipates in an instant, causing you to release a soft chuckle. It's evident that this Romog hadn't yet reached adulthood. Rising to your feet, you retrieve your blanket, which now feels like a thick slab of ice, and proceed to fold it as neatly as possible before tucking it away in your satchel. Throughout this process, the Romog playfully nudges your back, emitting playful yips to further lighten the atmosphere.

Hefting the bag over your shoulder, your gaze falls to the Romog beside you. Its eyes are wide and almost pleading, and suddenly, a soft gurgle fills the air. It must be hungry – you couldn't remember if Eunice had packed you any food, but it wouldn't hurt to take a look.

Nonchalantly discarding the satchel, you allow it to descend with a weighty thump upon the earth. You gracefully lower yourself onto one knee, slowly loosening the drawstrings. The Romog creeps nearer, its snout descending to delve into the contents of your exposed bag. With lips slightly pursed, you delicately nudge it aside, engaging in a steadfast gaze with the creature. “You must wait, I'm trying to find you something.”

The creature emits a soft chuff. With an air of nonchalance, it raises a front leg and stretches its neck to noisily lick at its paw. You can't help but roll your eyes at the creature's audacious demeanor. Determined to find something worthwhile, you plunge your hand into the bag, rummaging aimlessly and extracting various objects, only to discard them back into the satchel as you realize their inedibility.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you find yourself in possession of a sizable portion of compacted ivory bread, its texture cold and unyielding, as if it had been shaped by the frigid gusts of the northern winds. The Romog stirs with interest at the scent of the doughy morsel, edging nearer until it is practically nestled in your lap. Its gaze meets yours, a silent exchange passing between you, without hesitation, you rend the loaf apart and fling it away into the forest.

The beast swiftly gives chase, its insatiable appetite driving it forward. Its viscous drool, warm and thick, tenderizes the bread, rendering it more palatable. With a gentle smile, you deftly rearrange the items within your bag, securing them in their rightful places before sealing it shut. Rising to your feet, you hoist the satchel onto your shoulder once again, ready to continue your journey.

The time of day still lingered in the early hours, urging you to press forward and cover as much ground as possible. If Eunice's information proved accurate, you would reach Thaos Village within at least three days' time. Thaos Village, as the tales tell, revered the water Goddess Euna, it was a relatively peaceful place where mages often resided before embarking on their journeys or seeking wisdom at the renowned arcane institution. It was also the birthplace of Eunice and the man you’d be meeting in only a short while.

As you gaze upon the Romog, its sharp teeth tearing into the meager offering of bread, a shiver runs down your spine, that could've been you under different circumstances. With a forced smile, you hasten your steps out of the eerie forest, eager to escape the looming darkness that surrounded you even in the morning light. Making your way back onto the trail to continue your journey to what you were hoping was safety.

The frigid morning breeze froze your face, your nostrils growing numb and your mouth parched from the icy assault. Merely moments into your stroll, your ears seemed on the verge of detachment. To safeguard the remnants of your inner heat, you raise your hood and plunge your hands into the recesses of your cloak, huddling your form in an attempt to repel the gusts of the wind. The fabric provided a small barrier against the frigid wind, but it was not enough to fully protect you.

The frosty air clung to your skin, leaving a tingling sensation that bordered on pain. Each breath you took felt like shards of ice piercing your lungs, causing you to exhale in short, shallow bursts. The trees stood tall and bare, their branches coated in a layer of frost that glistened in the weak morning light.

With each step, you could feel the chill seeping deeper into your bones. Your muscles tensed, your movements becoming slower and more deliberate. The cold seemed to sap your energy, leaving you feeling sluggish and drained.

The sun's feeble attempt to break through the thick layer of clouds was met with resistance, as if the heavens themselves were conspiring to keep the landscape below in a perpetual state of desolation. Its golden beams, though they managed to pierce through the gloom, seemed almost mocking in their presence. They danced upon the barren earth, casting long, eerie shadows that stretched across the desolate terrain, and illuminated the cracked and parched ground.

As if the sun's futile efforts were not enough, a biting wind swept through the air once more. It howled through the skeletal remains of trees, their branches stripped of leaves and their insides hollowed out.

‘snap’

Your heart nearly leaps out of your throat when you jump, swiftly turning to locate the source of the noise. It was only the Romog from earlier, its mouth still coated in breadcrumbs. You purse your lips, fully turning to confront it, cocking your hip to the side, and crossing your arms over your chest.

“I cannot give you anything more. I also need to eat, beast.”

At your acknowledgment, the creature hastens forth to halt before you, perhaps taking your response as a cue to accompany you. Its frigid, damp snout presses against your abdomen, urging you onward to proceed. You delicately push it aside, your hands now finding solace upon your hips. “You mustn't follow me. Now go, I can do nothing more for you.”

This time it hearkens, descending into a seated posture and whimpering, its grand cranium inclining to the side. You affirm, content with your actions. "Well done, farewell beast.”

Twisting on your heels, you press forward along the trail, tucking your hands into your pockets once again to restore warmth. As you journey for a few more moments, the Romog's heavy, wheezing breaths fade away, which are loud even amidst the piercing gusts of wind.

You were alone now, it was something you would have to get used to.

Moreover, if what you read was true, untamed Romog's were labeled as ‘kill on sight’ in numerous regions. The creature would draw too much attention to you, and you couldn't bear to see it die.

You've witnessed an excess of death in a brief span and the thought of being responsible for yet another one weighed heavily on your conscience. You knew that if you were to survive in this harsh and unforgiving world, you would need to adapt quickly and make tough decisions.

You would brave this journey on your own.

Or so you thought. The Romog continued to follow you.

Concealing itself amidst the foliage each time you glanced over your shoulder, its mighty tail protruding from a tree and rhythmically thudding, inadvertently revealing its presence. Hiding itself within shrubs, but its snout, long and thick, would stick out, giving it away. Vanishing into the encompassing woodland, yet its profound, labored breaths would once more, accidentally expose its existence.

What did it want?

Halting abruptly, you inhale deeply, the frigid air chilling your lungs as you pivot swiftly, the Romog attempting to scuttle into the forest to evade your scrutiny. "Come out!" A brief silence ensues, save for the monotonous symphony of howling winds and rustling foliage atop the towering trees. The Romog emerges from its hiding spot, albeit reluctantly. Its head hangs low, ears plastered against its skull, and tail firmly ensconced between its hind legs.

Its eyes, once filled with mischief and childish curiosity, now reflect an uncertainty. You take a press forward, your presence commanding and unwavering. The Romog takes a hesitant step back, its paws sinking into the soft forest floor.

"I will tell you once more. You mustn't follow me! ‘Tis dangerous, for me and for you. Do you understand?" For a moment, you forget that you're talking to a beast and not a human, it probably didn't understand a word that you were saying. This realization causes a frown to crease your lips, your eyebrows knitting together sharply.

As you once more assert your desire for the creature to leave, it cowers slightly, its large, sorrowful eyes gazing up at you with confusion and longing. Its body, covered in sleek, dark fur, bristles in response to your rejection. Yet, despite your firm words, it remains steadfast.

With a heavy sigh, you realize that the creature has attached itself to you for reasons beyond your comprehension. Its unwavering resolution tugs at your heartstrings, even as you try to distance yourself from it. Perhaps it senses something in you, a connection that you are yet to understand. Is what you try to convince yourself, to somehow make this situation feel right.

As you contemplate your next move, the creature finds time to sneak towards you, nudging your leg gently, its touch both cold and comforting. It emits a low, woeful sound as if pleading for you. And despite it, you find yourself softening, your resolve weakening as you look into its eyes, they're filled with such a deep despondency that it almost seems as if you were gazing into a mirror.

Relenting with a soft huff, you crouch down to meet the creature at eye level. Its snout, still damp and frigid, brushes against your cheek, leaving a trail of icy moisture. You feel a surge of empathy, a sudden realization that this creature searches for companionship and purpose, just as you do. ( though you deny it. )

"I cannot promise you anything," you whisper. Your voice, scratchy from the icy breath of the northern frost, resonates with a delicate blend of tenderness and hesitation, because within you lies the awareness that this was a foolish idea. "If you so choose to accompany me, know that the path ahead is treacherous and filled with uncertainty. I cannot guarantee your safety nor mine."

The creature's eyes glinted with a newfound emotion, as if understanding you and the risks involved with being your travel companion, but that was just wishful thinking on your end. It emits a soft, almost grateful sound at your words. With a gentle touch, you stroke its furry head, rising to your feet.

"Then, let's keep moving."

“Perhaps I should give you a name. It would be improper to refer to you as ‘beast’ the entire time.” you state, your teeth clashing together in a frenzy. The creature walks alongside you faithfully, its massive form exuding warmth like a furnace, impervious to the icy chill of the north, a fact that you couldn't help but envy, even if just a tad. Your cloak had been breached long ago by the freezing air, and it genuinely felt as though you were treading on pins and needles, your body wracking with tremors from the cold.

As the two of you trudge the frost-covered road, you rack your brain for a suitable name for the animal. Alas, you're not particularly skilled in this endeavor, and it appears that the beast is aware of this as well. "What of Charles?" You propose, the words slipping hesitantly from your lips. The being reacts unfavorably to the name, meeting your gaze and snorting in response.

Your mouth gapes and you narrow your eyes. "Very well, perhaps I shall persist in calling you a beast! Now's not the time to be picky." The creature lets out a low rumble, its eyes narrowing in what seems to be yielding delight. It seems to understand the concept of a name, but is not easily swayed by your meager attempts at bestowing one upon it. Especially that of Charles.

“Fine, I’ll think of a better one later,” Your gaze shifts towards the sun as it begins its gradual descent, the darkness of night beginning to envelop the sky in its velvety cloak. The frigid air, already piercing, seemed to intensify, as if embracing an even colder essence.

Despite this, the two of you had made remarkable progress throughout the day, and it instilled confidence in you that the village would be within reach before nightfall the next day. Although the tracks upon the nearly frozen ground had begun to fade, you had found them nonetheless, a mosaic of footprints and wagon imprints. A sign of life.

“Let us stop for today, we mustn’t be out on the road during nightfall.” The latter part of your statement is uttered softly, a reminder to yourself, and the creature joins you as you stealthily veer away from the path and venture into the encroaching shadows of the woods, its tail wagging in delight. You continue walking for a brief period until you once again find yourself amidst a gathering of trees and shrubs, placing your bag on the ground before settling down beside it. You feel almost numb, as though your body has been submerged in icy waters.

The creature settles down beside you, its warm body, thick with fur, brushing against your side, providing a sense of ease in the eerie stillness of the forest. The darkness seems to press in around you, the only sound being the rustling of leaves and the occasional hoot of an owl in the distance. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the chill that has settled in your bones, digging into your satchel to pull out your wool blanket.

You purse your lips and run your hand along its back, patting softly. “Lucky mutt.” With slow, creaky motions you envelop the blanket around your form and awkwardly collapse, distancing yourself from the creature, head landing harshly on your bag, yet you pay no mind, you were too cold to care.

The Romog stands abruptly and moves closer to follow down after you, massive frame wrapping around you. It smells of damp soil and dog and you scrunch your nose. “By the Gods, you need a bath.” you utter, burying your face within the comfort of your blanket to escape the scent.

The animal grunts, unamused at your insult, shifting away from you; and in an instant the cold envelops you, freezing the entirety of your body. Your teeth begin to chatter rhythmically, and you instinctively seek warmth by burrowing into the creature's body, no longer bothered by its scent. “P-perhaps just for tonight, yes?”

The beast snorts again and affectionately rests its large head on top of yours, tail curling around your body. You smile to yourself as the Romog nuzzles closer, its warm fur providing much-needed comfort in the chilly night. Despite the less-than-pleasant smell, you can't help but feel thankful to the creature for its unexpected aid.

“What about George?”

The gates of the Village loomed ahead, towering and sturdy, constructed from the timber of a Viloz tree. Though guards stood watch at the entrance, it appeared they paid no heed to verifying identities or trade permits. In most bustling regions, such protocols were customary to gain access within their walls.

Considering your Uncle's relentless pursuit, one would expect wanted posters or even a bounty on your head. Yet, the lax security raised suspicions— could it be a ruse, an artifice to entice you into the open?

You duck behind the bushes once more and look toward your companion. “Alright, Aslan—,” the Romog grumbles at the name, and you sigh, rummaging through your bag to retrieve the final piece of bread. The name was still a matter of debate, as it seemed that no matter what name you chose, the Romog disapproved.

For now, it was best to refer to it as 'beast'. You take out the stale bread and struggle to tear it in half. Placing one portion at the creature's feet, you reluctantly return the other half to your bag. "Remain here, you cannot enter the village. I will come for you later tonight if everything goes according to plan."

The Romog sniffs at the bread before tentatively taking a bite, its sharp teeth tearing into the tough crust. You watch as it devours the meager meal, its eyes never leaving you. The two of you had made good timing today and thankfully made it to the village before nightfall.

The sun was drifting lower as the minutes passed but you weren't too worried about it, not when safety was within reach. Gone were the worries and anxieties that had plagued your mind just a few short days ago. The weight of the world seemed to lift, replaced by a newfound sense of security. Safety, once elusive and distant, now stood within reach, beckoning you to embrace its solace.

Although the Romog remained oblivious to the intricate nuances of the Lomaliue language, there were instances when an inexplicable connection seemed to materialize. It was as if the creature possessed an innate comprehension of your commands and the very essence of your words. It was almost comforting in a way, akin to engaging in a heartfelt conversation with a fellow human being, albeit one who chose not to respond.

“Alright?”

The Romog emitted another discontented growl, causing a faint smile to grace your lips. With gentle strokes, you caressed its velvety fur, which bore traces of frost from the relentless northern gusts. Although the biting chill persisted, your body had grown accustomed to its icy touch, rendering you impervious to its sting.

At most, you suffered from a mild case of frostnip, far from the severe frostbite that could afflict you if you prolonged your stay in this frigid wilderness for a few more days, a constant reminder of the dangers that awaited those who dared to defy Mother Nature's limits.

The Romog, sensing your restlessness, nudged you gently with its snout, as if urging you to move on. With a heavy sigh, you reluctantly withdrew your hand from the beast’s fur, feeling a pang of sadness at the loss of its comforting presence.

You knew that you had to continue your journey into the Village to seek shelter and warmth before the unforgiving cold took its toll on you. You needed to find Geoffrey Jill.

Flicking your hood over your head, you venture farther from the village to a side road, so you don't look suspicious walking to the Village from the tree line. As you approached the gate, a sense of unease settles in the pit of your stomach.

The towering entrance, constructed from the timber of a Viloz tree, its bark known to be as sharp as a blade, was a formidable barrier, separating the outside world from the safety and sanctuary within.

Despite the imposing presence of the gates, the guards stationed at the entrance appeared strangely indifferent to their duties. They stood there, their eyes glazed over, seemingly oblivious to the comings and goings of the villagers and outsiders alike. It was as if they were mere statues, frozen in time, rather than vigilant sentinels protecting the Village.

If what your teacher taught you about the Kingdom was right, then in most bustling regions, gaining access to a village of such importance would require strict adherence to protocols. Identification checks, trade permits, and thorough questioning were customary measures to ensure the safety and security of the inhabitants. Yet, here, it seemed that such precautions were nonexistent. Which was odd.

This lax security raised a myriad of suspicions in your mind. Was it possible that this was all an elaborate ruse, a carefully crafted plan to lure you into the open? After all, your Uncle had been relentlessly pursuing you, his desire to capture and kill you evident in the wanted posters that seemed to adorn every tree you and the beast had passed.

But for now, this seemed to be your sole option at the moment. Where else could you possibly seek refuge? Escaping the bitter cold and finding this mystery man is your top priority. The urgency of the situation left no room for hesitation or contemplation; your next move would have to wait until later.

Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on your weary shoulders. The biting wind whipped against your face, numbing your senses. With a gulp, you cautiously approached the two guards, trying your best to appear nonchalant.

Your trembling added to the act, making it seem like you were simply a weary traveler seeking refuge from the impending winter storm that loomed ever closer. The first stick of snow to the ground usually meant a winter blizzard would follow.

Your heart thudded rapidly in your chest, almost to the point of pain, as you breezed past the guards who seemed more interested in chatting with each other than actually checking credentials. And just like that, you found yourself standing within the walls of Thaos Village, your pulse still racing with the fear of your successful infiltration.

‘Mother, Father— I made it.’

It was only when the moon rose high in the sky, casting an eerie glow over the village, that you had finally stumbled upon Geoffrey Jill.

When you wandered through the village, you were initially lost in admiration of its liveliness despite the cold weather and impending blizzard. The streets were bustling with people, their laughter and chatter filling the air, while the cozy glow of warm lights spilled out from the windows of quaint cottages. The villagers seemed undeterred by the freezing temperatures, going about their daily routines.

The aroma of freshly baked bread and sizzling meats wafted through the air, tempting your taste buds and igniting a hunger that had long been suppressed. The colorful array of fruits and vegetables displayed in the market stalls beckoned to you, their vibrant hues a stark contrast to the dullness of your daily routine.

As you meandered through the throngs of people, their laughter and chatter creating a symphony of life around you, you couldn't help but feel a sense of longing for the simple joys that seemed so out of reach.

It resembled a passage extracted from the cherished storybooks of your childhood, it was enchanting in a way. especially for you who had rarely stepped foot out of the castle. Commoner life seemed almost… peaceful in a way. You were fine with just walking the streets, dodging running children, and gazing longingly at the food stalls— it had been forever since you had eaten an actual meal.

"Would you care for one?"

As you snap out of your reverie, the world around you slowly comes back into focus. Your eyes meet with those of a woman in her middle age, and you are immediately struck by her captivating appearance. She possesses a round figure, exuding an air of warmth and comfort. Her delightful rosy cheeks add a touch of vibrancy to her overall countenance, giving her a youthful glow.

Her features are refined and elegant. A flat nose sits perfectly in the center of her face, adding a sense of symmetry and grace. Her full lips, slightly curved upwards, seem to hold a perpetual smile, inviting and comforting to all who encounter her. They speak of kindness and understanding, ready to offer solace or share a laugh. Her skin boasts a rich, deep umber brown, like the earth itself.

Yet, it is her eyes that truly captivate you. They are the windows to her soul, and they hold a depth that is both mesmerizing and intimidating. A flawless, all-knowing amber hue fills her irises, shimmering with a wisdom that seems to transcend time.

When her gaze meets yours, it feels as if she can see into the very depths of you, peering into your thoughts and emotions. There is an intensity to her eyes, an unwavering focus that demands your attention.

You smile beneath your hood, you doubt she could see it but do so nonetheless. “Oh, that's alright; I have no money at the moment,” you utter, your voice hoarse from the winter chill, and your throat parched from the absence of water and the biting cold.

The woman grins, it's beautiful and motherly and it warms your belly better than any beverage ever could, it makes you miss your own mother a bit more; if even possible. She grabs one of the skewers and holds it out to you. “My treat, child. Now run along and get home, the winter blizzard is coming.”

Initially hesitant, you tentatively extend your hand towards the bottom of the skewer, feeling the cold seep through your frost-nipped fingers as they slip out from under the protection of your cloak. Though she doesn't acknowledge it, the sad smile that encases her full lips tells you that she's noticed. “Thank you, I’ll pay you back, swear it,” you assure her earnestly.

She lets out a gentle laugh and gestures for you to leave, “Alright, alright, head on home.”

With a now full belly, warmed from the delicious blend of salty meat and spicy vegetables, you now search for Geoffrey Jill with a new intensity. Despite the freezing temperatures of the northern region, which seem to penetrate your very bones, you navigate through narrow alleyways and bustling food stalls without giving the cold a second thought.

However, as night fell and the temperatures plummeted even further, your energy waned and your awe from earlier, quickly transformed into bewilderment. The once vibrant village now appeared eerie and desolate under the pale moonlight. The laughter and chatter had faded, replaced by an unsettling silence broken only by the howling wind. The cozy glow of lights had dimmed, leaving the streets shrouded in darkness.

Despite being disoriented and having already been turned around twice, you struggled to find someone who could point you in the right direction to locate Geoffrey Jill. The few villagers you encountered were bundled up in heavy outside blankets, their faces hidden beneath scarves and hats, making it difficult to discern their features.

Their hurried footsteps echoed through the empty streets as they scampered home, seeking refuge from the biting cold.

You felt helpless, standing in the middle of the street.

However, it appeared that the sight of you struggling to find your way through the village, weighed heavily on the shoulders of a man named Tomás Duall. He was an elderly figure, who was reliant on a cane for support, possessed a slight hunch, and a crown of wispy white hair– and he had offered to take you to Geoffrey.

His eyes held a deep sadness, as if burdened by the weight of his past. A peculiar scent lingered around him, a mixture of smoke and a hint of sweetness, reminiscent of candy. Tomás had led you to Geoffrey, and while doing so, spoke softly of his lost love and the children he never had, his words tinged with a sense of longing and regret.

“Child, don't follow my example. Pursue the one you desire.”

He left you with those words as he bid you farewell at the entrance of Geoffrey’s house. Unexpectedly, you discovered a fondness for this elderly man. Despite his cheeky demeanor and tendency to give hearty pats on the back while sharing a funny story, you found him rather endearing.

As you brought your attention back to the present, you extended your hand from beneath your cloak and rapped on the door. It's silent, causing a brief moment of panic as your heart tightens in your chest. Could it be possible that he wasn't home? Had the elderly man led you to the wrong house?

You stood there, the weight of uncertainty pressing down on you as you waited for a response. The seconds stretched into minutes, each one feeling like an eternity as you listened for any sign of life inside the house. The wind whispered through the trees, the only sound breaking the eerie silence that surrounded you.

Swallowing thickly you knock once more. “Is there a Geoffrey Jill that lives in this home? Eunice has sent me here.” A moment of tense silence follows, the air thick with anticipation. Suddenly, the door swings wide open, revealing a large, intimidating man filling the doorway. His towering presence sends a shiver down your spine, and you instinctively take a step back, feeling small and vulnerable in his presence.

But as the door opens wider, a surprising shift in the atmosphere occurs. The sound of children's laughter fills the air, accompanied by a woman's voice, likely his wife, softly joining in the joyous chorus. The contrast between the imposing figure before you and the sounds of happiness emanating from within the house is jarring, creating a paradoxical blend of intimidation and warmth.

“How do you know of that name, girl?”

You startle at the sound of his deep voice, it's thunderous even over the sound of howling wind. You gaze up and then further to lock eyes with him. “She was my nanny– she sent me here to look for you, my Unc–”

“I cannot help you, go on your way.”

Your mouth drops open in disbelief and you cautiously tug off your hood, showing him your face. “Do you know who I am? “ You watch as the blood drains from it, watch as his jaw clenches and his eyes flutter shut. He glances behind him before stepping outside to confront you, shutting the door behind him. “Why has she sent you here, where is she?”

Despite your best efforts, tears begin to fill your eyes. “She...she is gone,” you murmur gently, and briefly you fear he has not caught your words amidst the roaring wind due to his profound silence. Yet, as you meet his gaze, you involuntarily recoil at his steely stare and tightly clenched jaw. "She was a foolish woman..."

You cannot bear to hear him speak ill of her, not when she was your dearest friend, your confidante, your mother in all but blood. You feel a surge of anger rise within you, but you swallow it down, knowing that now is not the time for confrontation. As the wind howls around you, you stand together in silence, each lost in your own thoughts and memories of the woman who brought you together, even in death.

Nevertheless, he eventually breaks the silence.

"Forget whatever she may have told you. I cannot help you, you must leave," he declares harshly, turning his back on you. Your breath catches in your throat, and panic threatens to overwhelm you entirely. This couldn't be real.

You reach out to him quickly, your hand grasping his meaty wrist, but you recoil when he flings your hand away, glaring. "P-please, I have nowhere else to go. My Uncle will find me, I cannot die like this-- not when I've done nothing to avenge my Family!"

He scoffs at your words, his eyes cold and unyielding. "Your fate is not my concern. You made your choices, now you must face the consequences," he replies, his voice cutting through the air like a knife. You feel a surge of desperation rising within you, knowing that without his help, you are truly alone in this world. Choices? What choices? You had none. “I have a family now, and I cannot risk their lives to hide a fallen Royal.”

What has your world come to? And why now? Why was this happening to you?

Geoffrey goes to retreat once more and you whimper in the back of your throat, restlessly fidgeting on your feet. "Only for the night, to escape the cold," he explains, his gaze meeting yours, revealing a slight softening in his expression. At that moment, he recognizes you as just a child. With a gruff grunt, he gestures towards the side of the house. “There is a shed, stay there. I want you gone as soon as the sun rises.”

“Yes. Thank you.”

The resounding echo of a door's closure is the only response you receive. With a heavy gulp, you suppress the tears that threaten to cascade down your face. What were you to do now? You had no place to go, there was a bounty on your head and winter was coming— you would surely succumb to the icy grip of death before avenging your family.

Quivering beneath your cloak, you navigate around the corner of the dwelling and chance upon the shed that Geoffrey had mentioned. Though modest in size and riddled with gaps in its wooden structure, it was better than nothing.

Pushing open the door, which emitted a mournful creak, you slip inside and collapse onto the floor covered in fragrant hay. As your body temperature gradually rises, shielded from the frigid northern winds, a torrent of tears breaks free, streaming down your frozen cheeks. Why you?

Before the sun rose that morning, you were gone, you had slipped away unnoticed, escaping through the gates where the soldiers stood watch as stoic as ever. The bustling of the villagers as they started their day only served to highlight the emptiness in your own life. With no direction and no sense of belonging, the weight of displacement settled heavily on your shoulders.

The icy touch of the northern winds no longer fazes you, your eyes dry and unyielding to tears, and the sensation in your feet has long faded away. You wander without purpose beside the road, your hood tattered from snagging on skeletal branches. Your mind is a foggy haze, memories slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

You trudge forward, your footsteps echoing in the silence of the winter wilderness. The road stretches out before you, endless and unforgiving, leading you further into the heart of the icy wasteland. But still, you press on, driven by a force you cannot name.

Perhaps it is a glimmer of hope, a flicker of light in the darkness that propels you forward. Or maybe it is simply the instinct to survive, to keep moving despite the odds stacked against you.

The 'beast' had vanished from the very spot where you had last seen it. Maybe it had decided to leave, and you couldn't fault it for that. In fact, if given the chance, you would have done the same thing in a heartbeat.

And although you had initially chased the creature away when your paths crossed, now you couldn't help but acknowledge the profound sense of solitude that engulfed you in its absence. It was astonishing how deeply you had connected with it, even in the mere span of two days.

Banishing those intrusive thoughts, you shift your attention to the world around you. After trekking for what seemed like an eternity, the snow crept up to your ankles, and you were hardly able to see in front of you. The frigid air enveloped you like a thick blanket, making each step feel like wading through a sea of molasses.

You could feel the weight of the snow pressing against your boots, making each movement a struggle. The once familiar path had become a treacherous maze, with the snow-covered trees and bushes blending in a monochromatic blur. The silence was deafening, broken only by the sound of your labored breaths and the occasional creaking of branches under the weight of the snow.

The bitter cold gnawed at your bones, seeping through every layer of clothing. Your fingers and toes were numb, and you could feel the sting of frostbite threatening to take hold. The frigid air seemed to penetrate every pore, leaving you shivering uncontrollably.

As the blizzard began to manifest its icy wrath, the wind surged with newfound vigor, and the temperature plummeted to depths unfamiliar to your senses. In this desolate road, the realization of your death gripped your heart, an undeniable truth that whispered through the frigid air. You were going to die.

You slowed to a stop, and your limbs, once enfolded tenderly around your midsection, descended languidly to your sides, resembling a lifeless puppet. You were going to die. The icy grip of death or the cruel clutches of starvation awaited you. You had no place to go. The dreams of revenge that once fueled your every action now seemed distant and unattainable.

Perhaps it was time to consider a different path, one of acceptance and surrender. Why not just meet your family halfway? You could be reunited with them if you just…stopped.

So you did. Your legs gave way, and you collapsed, your bag slipping from your weary shoulder. As you tumbled into the snow, it welcomed you with open arms, cushioning your fall. Then you were no longer cold, no in fact you felt warm.

Nestling deeper into the snow, you closed your eyes, allowing yourself to be transported to a different time and place. In your head, you saw yourself as a child, cradled in your mother's loving arms. You could almost hear her gentle humming, a lullaby- its name long since forgotten.

The world around you faded away, and you felt yourself drifting off to sleep, the weight of your burdens finally lifted. It was a slumber that beckoned for eternity. A few moments more, and death would claim you as its own, offering you an escape from the pain and suffering that had plagued you for far too long.

But just as you were about to surrender to sleep, a voice pierced through the darkness. It was faint at first, barely audible, but it grew louder with each passing second. "Wake up," it whispered urgently, pleading for your return. Confusion washed over you and you slowly opened your eyes, the vision of your mother fading away.

Instead, you were met with the comforting gaze of your beast. It stood tall and formidable, its snout tenderly nudging your cheek. But you couldn't, you didn't want to go on anymore- and so, with a heavy heart, you closed your eyes once more, yearning for the eternal embrace of sleep.

It was warm you realized, almost tenderly so, the thick heat permeated every fiber of your body and it carried with it the intoxicating scent of smoke and embers, enveloping your senses in a dizzying embrace. This was no mere illusion, no figment of your imagination like the deceptive warmth you sought while nestled in the icy embrace of snow. No, this was a tangible warmth, a palpable sensation that was real.

It was all-encompassing, like you were wrapped in blankets and surrounded by a huge, blazing fire. It was as though the very essence of existence had been breathed back into your body. It was as if every nerve in your body was on fire. You never wanted it to end, never wanted to return to the mundane reality of life on the run. If this were death, you’d eagerly welcome it.

But it was not. You could hear the eerie sound of the howling blizzard wind and if you focused hard enough, you could discern the faintest touch of icy coldness caressing your skin from time to time, only to be swiftly engulfed by a comforting warmth. You were alive. You were alive. It shouldn't have tasted bitter on your tongue, the thought of living– but it did. Reality had a cruel way of creeping back in, like a thief in the night.

Fluttering your eyes open, you’re immediately met with darkness accompanied by the faint sound of the rhythmic dripping of water. Groggily, you tilted your head towards the left, where the furious northern blizzard continued to roar with a vengeance, and you gave your weary eyes a chance to adapt to the profound darkness. After a few minutes, gradually, the feeble radiance of the moon emerged. Night had fallen.

You could hardly think, let alone remember what happened after you passed out. Where were you? Who brought you here? And where exactly was here? All these questions but no answers. Sitting up slowly, you turn your head, scanning the surroundings with a sense of unease, the warm air wrapping you in a soft embrace, as if it were alive. Yet there was no fire to be found. No flickering flames, no glow of light, no sound of crackling firewood. Where was it coming from?

The sound of crunching footfalls on the snow startles you and your body, overcome with a primal instinct, lurches backward, stumbling and trembling, seeking refuge against the warm cave wall. “Who is there? Have you brought me here?” Silence hangs heavy in the air, amplifying the thunderous beats of your heart, as their steps hasten and your breath becomes shallow and rapid, your chest tightening with each passing second.

There was a high pitched whine before your Romog companion sauntered into the wide expanse of the cave. Its fur was matted with snow which seemed to twinkle like jewels in the dull moonlight. You closed your eyes and let out a soft breath of relief, resting your head against the wall, heart slowing to a soft thump.

You could now vaguely remember seeing the Romog before you passed out, feeling the icy cold touch of its wet nose on your cheek. Perhaps the beast had pulled you into the cave before the weather could truly put you out of your misery.

A nudge on your neck makes you open your eyes, gaze slanting to the right to look at the animal. Its eyes are familiar and warm, it leaves your heart to somersault lazily in your ribcage. You smile small and reach out to run your hand along its jaw. “Where have you been?”

There’s obviously no reply but the beast cuddles its large head into your lap and rumbles contentedly, eyes falling shut. You breathe out a sigh and caress through its wet fur, once again resting your head on the warm cave wall. With a little bit of the security you had, now that the Romog was here, you took the time to scan the cave.

It's massive, and if the warm draft is anything to go by, it's quite deep as well. The constant but faint sound of dripping water also hints at some type of lake or stream within the cave— your mouth salivates at the thought of water sliding down your parched throat. It had been days since you'd last had anything to drink.

And despite how paranoid it might've sounded, this cave felt strangely, lived in— it didn't seem abandoned in the slightest, but you also felt safe. In the state that you were in, it wouldn't be wise to roam and explore the cave just yet. However, when you have the energy to go do so, you will.

But for now? You would sleep once more.

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probablyintensemuses · 24 days ago

Text

BED CHEM- A. ARETAS

🎧- Bed Chem: Sabrina Carpenter

summary: After a game of 'Never Have I Ever,' you ask Armando for a simple favor. He complies in the best of ways.

warnings: so much smut, cursing, drinking

a/n: It's Kinktober, I hope you enjoy this. Sluts.

"Alright,' Kelly takes another swig of her beer, calling everyone's attention towards you. "Your turn, sweetheart, never have I ever."

You chuckle, throwing back another shot of amber liquid, rejoicing in its burn on the way down. You took in the living space of Mikes mansion, how all the colors began to mix and swirl, the room titling about half as much as your stomach.

Still, with flushed brown skin, you poured yourself another shot. "Hit me," You hiccupped.

“Never have I ever...’ Kelly slurs, tapping her manicured finger against her chin. She points at you, spitting out, “fucked a man in my car.”

You laugh, picking up your shot glass and throwing it back, shivering at the warmth it brings you.

Kelly squeals and claps. “I knew it! I knew you didn’t go all the way with that guy from the bar last week!”

You hiccup, throwing a fist full of popcorn at her. “Hush!" You shush her.

Waving to the guys--Mike, Marcus, Dorn, and Armando sat on the sofa--who were better equipped at handling their liquor than both you and Kelly, you say, "They'll find out. I don't need Mike disappointed in me."

Mike stands while chuckling, he walks towards you and like a magician playing a trick on a child, he distracts you with one hand patting your shoulder and swipes your shot with the other.

"Hey!" You whine, stumbling to get up.

“I think that’s enough of that.” Mike tosses it into the sink, rinsing it down the drain.

You groan, falling back onto the stack of pillows on the ground, Kelly following suit.

The world spins in slow circles above you and your stomach was spinning.

"Truthfully,"

"Hm?" Kelly hums.

"I've never fucked anyone before."

Kelly shoots up, wide brown eyes boring into your own amber ones, and the room goes deathly silent.

It takes a beat, but eventually Marcus cracks the quiet wide open.

“What do you mean you’ve never fucked anyone?”

“Yeah,’ Mike adds. “If Marcus is getting laid, you damn sure shouldn't be having any problems.

Marcus slaps Mikes chest, earning a laugh out of everyone.

You wave your hand in dismissal. "I'm content with the state of my virginity." You shrug, throwing some popcorn into your mouth while wishing it was a greasy burger.

Dorn scoots close to you, wrapping his heavy arm around your shoulder. "Is it a religious reason, because if it is, I totally understand."

You laugh. "It's not. I just never got there with anyone...I guess."

"I guess?" Mike sucks his teeth. "Girl, when I was your age I was getting all types of action."

You let out a loud groan and roll your eyes as Mikes goes on and on about his never ending playboy era.

"You ain't got to remind us that you were a bad boy, Mike. The proofs right here." Mike says, pointing to Armando.

You look over, watching Armando take another sip of his beer.

You knew Armando was Mikes son, yet no matter how close you felt to Mike, his son was just a part of him you couldn't feel piece together.

Apart of you felt fearful of his rather unpredictable nature, while another part of you, not so deep down, felt hypnotized by him, his demeanor, his attitude, not to mention his face and body. it was all enough to make your core pool with a feeling that could only be declared as one thing--desire.

Pulled into another trance, your eyes cut over and meet Armando's. They are the deepest, hypnotic shade of chocolate brown, hung low and dark. You presume, like everyone else, he too was drunk.

You swallow, taking him in, how his muscular arms wrap around the back of the couch like a snake, only enhanced by the black, fitted top he was wearing. How his thick thighs were spread in front of you, giving you full access to his package.

If you were to ever fuck a man, Armando was the type you'd want. A man who was gruff with an eclipse of something kind. A man who could no doubt pick you up, pull em' down, and turn you around.

You hadn't even realized you were practically salivating until Kelly's voice washes over you, cleansing your dirty thoughts away.

"You ready to go?" She says, you hadn't noticed everyone start to clean up, and apparently Armando hadn't either, his silky gaze still lingering on you.

"Oh,' you flush. "I think I better stay behind. I'm supposed to be helping Christine with a friends party tomorrow, anyhow." You say, pushing to stand.

"Alright then,' Kelly extends her arms for a hug. "We'll talk later, okay."

You pat her back, taking in her cherry scent. "Okay, get home safe everyone!"

Everyone says there goodbyes.

"I'm heading up for the night." Mike announces. "Goodnight!"

You dip down to pick up the last of the trash. "Goodnight."

Hands full of garbage you turn, jumping when you see Armando hasn't moved.

You clutch your chest. "Jesus. How long have you been--I thought you went upstairs already."

Armando places his beer down on the marble coffee table. "Wasn't done drinking."

You nod, avoiding his hot gaze. "Well enjoy." You breath, tossing the trash into the garbage. Quickly, you b-line towards the staircase.

"Lo haré."

You pause, hand on the stair railing. "What?"

He chuckles, pushing to stand. You suck in a breath taking in his godly figure as he walks over, the wetness from earlier resurfacing again.

At the staircase, Armando crowds your space, your back to his front. You wouldn't dare face him right now, you were drunk and loose, who knows what you were capable of if you turned around.

Your breath comes in and out in hitches as he swipes your hair to one side of your neck. The heat radiating from him becomes blistering as he leans down, plump lips barely grazing your ear when he whispers, "Disfruté tu historia."

You gasp, craning your neck to the side only to see, like a snake, Armando had already slithered past you with a smirk on his face.

"Have a goodnight." The way he called your name had you melting like butter.

You slide down until your bottom touches the cold steps, hoping it will shew away any nasty feelings you have for your bosses very, very hot son.

Unfortunately, it did nothing. Instead, you pull out your phone googling everything Armando had just said to you. And even though it was only two things, it was enough to carry you upstairs and into a very, gushy sleep.

---

Thunder crashes against your window, jolting you from your sleep.

Your tired blurry eyes look over at the night stand.

It's 3 am.

You've been out cold for at least three hours, the dryness of your throat being a definite tell-tell.

You throw the thick, lavender comforter off yourself, swinging your feet into your house shoes.

You toss on you glasses and sneak out of your room, trying your best to be as quiet as possible as you sneak down to the kitchen.

In the kitchen, you fill up your water bottle and quickly head back to the room Christine had assigned you to sleep in for the night.

Thankfully it had an ensuite, because you'd definitely have to pee after all this water you were going to chug.

Taking a swig of your water, movement in the corner of your room captures your attention.

You lower your water bottle, fastening the top and setting it aside. You know your vision is bad, but not this bad.

You shrug it off, kicking off your night shoes.

Another string of thunder, paired with a loud shriek of lighting barrels down on the house, illuminating the corner in which you had just thought you'd seen something.

With the bright light of lightening striking twice, there was no mistake. There was someone there.

But not just anyone. Armando.

You gasps, immediately throwing your arms up and not knowing where to cover first: your exposed cold, hardening nipples or the rounds of your ass exposed in your sleep shorts.

You choose the former, your nipples only straining more against the fabric of your tee shirt the closer Armando gets.

"What are you doing here?" You manage.

You continue to drink him in the closer he gets, his golden skin and abs on full display as he dawns nothing but a pair of grey sweats.

"I heard you get up." He says, his voice gruff with sleep.

"So you followed me?"

Armando shrugs. "¿Eso no está permitido?"

"I don't know what you're saying." You sigh, holding back the moans in your throat at just the scent of him.

Armando steps forward again, the force of his presence pushing you to sit down. "I think you do."

"I--I don't." You sputter.

Armando sucks his teeth, hooking his index finger under your chin. Your eyes lift and meet his.

This angle, you several inches below him, has you pressing your thighs together, keeping the desperate monster who wants to swallow the man before you whole at bay.

"Then I'll help you,' Armando's thumb strokes your chin. "What you said earlier, was that true?"

"What I said earl--," Your eyes narrow than widen.

You swallow. "You mean about?"

Armando chuckles. "Yes, about you not fucking anyone yet."

You squirm, feeling your heat begin to pool again. Your core must be draining all the liquids from your throat because find it hard to reply.

"I'll take that as a yes." Armando plays with the ends of your hair.

You aren't sure if somehow you'd been struck by lighting, but sudden surge of confidence shakes over you.

You stand, still several inches shorter than him. "Is there something you wanted to do about it, Armando?"

He hisses, throwing his head back. "Do you want me to do something about it?" His warm fingers trail your neckline.

You shiver, closing your eyes and pushing into his touch.

Only if you promise to come right on me.

"¿qué?"

Your eyes snap open. "I meant camaraderie, as long as you promise camaraderie."

Armando growls, taking your face in his hands once more. "No you didn't." He says in one breath before taking yours away.

You shudder against him. Then, his palms wrap around the nape of your neck, turning the kiss scolding and fierce. His mouth open and hot.

Armando pulls you in closer by your hips, a surge builds between you, a shared exchange of demand a desire as your mouths rummage, searching for that peak together.

There's a groan, movement, and then you're airborne, Armando's rough hands digging into your back.

You're not sure where Armando takes you until you tear yourself from him entirely, panting as you catch your breath.

"Why'd we come in here?" You question, looking around his room.

"Your rooms too close to Mikes." He says, grappling for you and pulling you close.

"What does that mean?" You question. It doesn't fully register for you until you sink down and straddle his clothed member.

Oh. Oh.

Even strained against two layers of clothes, you could tell Armando was going to be huge issue.

"That was probably best." You pant, grabbing his face and kissing him once more.

Armando pulls at the hem of your shirt, in between kisses he whispers, "Take this off.:"

You're hesitant and don't comply because no matter how hot and needy you are, this is still new to you.

Taking a beat, you pull back. "Maybe we shouldn't."

Armando sits up. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No!" You shake your head. "You're great, it's just...I'm a little nervous."

"We don't have to, I'm sorr--."

You stop him, grabbing his hand. "Don't apologize."

You take a deep breath, shaking off all the doubts allowing yourself to just seep in what the pleasure is and how it could morph.

You were here, in this blistering moment, with Armando. Going further than you ever had with any other man.

That shows that there’s something there, an underlying current that’s got you both pooling with desire for one another after a few drunken glances and intoxicated words.

Maybe it something that couldn’t be put into words, like chemistry.

Bed chem.

Whatever it was, it had you swallowing your fears, trudging past them.

You sit up straighter, locking eyes with predator in front of you. Your heart skips beats like a rabbit just looking into his eyes.

"I want to." You breath.

Armando nods, shifting. He slowly presses you into the mattress, the warmth of his gaze and comforters engulfing you. Yet, you can't help but shiver as he pulls down your sleep shorts, allowing his warm breath to blow over your exposed thighs.

You whimper.

It was finally happening and you were ready to drink in every moment of it.

Armando trails light kisses on the inside of both your thighs. The light touches make you gasp and shiver.

He trails his lips, slick as a cat, towards your heat, placing breathy kisses onto your clit.

You flank, gripping either side of the bed, relishing in every suck, swirl, and spit Armando gives your pussy.

The attention to detail on this man was unwinding you like a doll, so much so, you could feel your climax ramping up.

It starts deep within your core, and with every painting Armando makes with his tongue against your soaking heat, the more you primely unravel.

"Necesito que vengas por mí." Armando groaned, plunging to thick fingers inside of you.

None of his words register with you, all you know is that this mans pleasure is unfurling you and you just want to reach its peak.

Armando pumps faster, you grip his hair and pull him in, smothering him within your walls.

"Fuck, yes!" You moan, arching your back and exposing your hardening nipples to the ceiling. "I'm so close." You cry out.

"Cum for me baby," Armando whimpers.

Like you've been compelled, you do as he says, spilling out on to his beard in a symphony of moans and twitches.

"Shit." You catch your breath. "That was amazing."

Armando licks his swollen lips, his eyes dimmed with desire.

"Tienes un sabor aún mejor del que imaginaba." He groans.

"What does that mean?" You question.

Armando grabs your ankles, yanking you until you're under him.

"I'll show you," He says, smothering you into a kiss, allowing you to taste the sweet-saltiness of your vagina.

"I need more of a demonstration." You say between kisses.

"your wish." Armando pulls off your top, groaning at the sight of your full breast and eager nipples.

He doesn't hesitate to latch his lips onto them, giving them a good suck.

"Fuck." You moan, lowering your hand down to his crotch.

Armando grabs your hand, stopping you from touching further. “No. Not today.” He urges, moving your hands, one by one, up by your head and holding them there.

He continues his delicious assault on your nipples, you never knew your pussy could be this wet with pure want.

Armando unlatches himself, he comes up to face you, hovering above you.

He looks gorgeous in the light. Warm hues of the bedside lamp blend with the crystal moons glow, showing off his dark, sharp features.

You touch his face, trailing your index finger from his sideburns down his jaw and under his chin.

“When?” You say, breathless. “When did you realize you wanted me?”

Armando dips down, placing a slow, firm kiss on your lips. “Since I first saw you.” He admits.

You quiver.

“Are you sure about this?�� Armando questions, peeling off his pants, leaving him in nothing but a tight pair of underwear.

You hiss at the sight of his print. “I’m sure.” You swallow.

Armando nods.

You reach up, and together, you peel off the final layer between the both of you.

Instantly, his cock springs to life.

You’ve seen many cocks online, all of them impressive in their own right, but Armando’s was something glorious.

He was large, thick, and veiny, the tip slick with pre-cum. If you had to guess his entire cock was anywhere between eight to eight and a half inches of glorious man.

He couldn’t be more perfect.

You were prepared to take all of it.

Armando moans snap you back to reality.

You Watch eagerly as he jerks himself off a bit. “Should we use a condom?”

You shake your head no. “I’m on the pill.”

“Fuck, princesa.” He hisses, positioning himself atop of you.

Armando gives you one last glance of worry, you bite your lip and watch it melt off his face and burst into something new as he sweeps the tip of his cock against your soaking wet entrance.

You let out a light moan, spreading yourself wider in anticipation for his massive member.

Armando complies, pushing into you slowly, letting you savor ever inch of him.

You had heard the horror stories of girls loosing their virginities. How bloody it would be, how much pain would be involved. So much so that it turned you off from sex for a long time.

That and your parents forcing a pure moral on you created an adult who didn’t know when she’d first get a taste of something so sweet.

But now that you’re here, you could confirm one thing: they were all wrong.

As Armando bottoms you out, his cock buried deep within you, you feel nothing but pleasure.

“Are you okay?” Armando asks.

You moan out, “yes,” giving Armando just what he needs to keep moving.

What begins as slow strokes changes into something much brighter as Armando grips your hips and begins to dig into you.

The room fills with echoes of skin colliding and the sounds of moans.

Your breast bounce on your chest as Armando continues to rails you, hitting spots you never knew was possible.

You squirm, feeling another orgasm building inside of you, it was coming at you like a freight train with no sight of slowing down.

Armando grips your hips, hoisting you up and turning you around.

He pushes your head down and you find your self arched—face down ass up.

He lets out a breathy moan as he slips back inside of you, pounding recklessly into your soaking wet pussy from behind.

“Joder, nena, necesito correrme dentro si tú.” Armando moans.

The language doesn’t seep into you, but by the way his groans are slowing turning into whimpers and how his cock is twitching inside of you, you can tell Armando is close to.

Your walls clench around his cock, milking him, as you orgasm builds closer.

“Fuck,” you moan out. “I’m about to cum.”

“Me too!” Armando groans, slamming into you harder then before.

A few more reckless pumps in and out of your tight little pussy and your spilling all over his cock in shouts and moans. Armando isn’t too far behind you, his twitching cock emptying inside of your warm heat.

“maldita mami.” Armando takes a deep breath, wiping the slick sweat off his forehead.

You twist, out of breath and shaking, falling flat onto your back against the bed.

You watch as Armando heads over to the en suite.

He comes back quickly with a two towels.

Sitting beside you he uses the smaller, damp towel to clean up the mess spilling out of you.

You shiver at his touch as he wraps the large towel around your shoulders.

Taking the opportunity, you kiss him gently. “Thank you.”

Armando smirks. “Anytime, bebé.”

Without warning, Armando scoops you up in his strong arms. He carries you bridal style, walking you over to the shower.

“Now, let’s get you all cleaned up.” He says, kissing your cheek.

You smile into the crook of his neck, wondering just how you were going to tell Kelly that you and Armando Aretas have fucking fantastic bed chem.

#angst #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #armando aretas x reader #armando aretas #bad boys for life #jacob scipio #armando and mike #mike lowrey #bad boys ride or die

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