#i like to call this one just ‘teeth’ for short
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Filthy Dog
MMA au -> pro!Soap x PR team!reader
Series CW: 18+ MDNI, possessive behaviour, spitplay, oral oneshot - 2K words - dividers -> @/cafekitsune
“-I'LL HAVE YER’ HEAD ON A STICK!”
You heard him before you saw him- the blur of a man who was truly more bull than human, and the scraping of chairs. Another headache for you.
You knew this was coming, you knew he wouldn't be happy with this sponsor. You tried to warn them.
“Johnny.” Soap’s manager, Mitch, tried to reason, eyes widening when the fighter’s massive wrapped hands flexed around his freshly-pressed white button down, untucking the bottom from his pants in the process. “-John.” he corrected, coughing awkwardly. When Soap snarled at him, Mitch looked to you with that ‘help clean this mess up’ look.
��No.” Soap bit, jamming a blunt finger into the man’s chest before you could respond to his plea. “This is yer’ problem.”
“We don’t have a problem.” Mitch assured. “Talk to me John, what's up?”
Soap’s eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. “Ye’ know damn well. Told you I'd sooner quit than work with Max Energy.”
Mitch’s lips pursed, You were unsure what he expected as the outcome of his greed- probably that he would be able to talk his way out of it. “I don’t remember you saying that." he scoffed. "Come on now, Max is great, don't blow this out of-”
Soap growled in frustration, his fist careening into the folding table beside him; a deadly weapon- a warning shot.
“Tell me, Mitch- why was I-” he snatched the cloth hanging out the pocket of his sweatpants and pushed it into the wiry man’s chest. “-just handed shorts with Max Energy big and bold ‘cross my fucking bits?”
he leaned in, jaw tense. “Ah’m a joke to ye’? I’ll quit right here, right now.”
Mitch called your name like he was summoning a maid and you could only sigh in response. “Soap-” “You say one more word for him and ah’ll knock his fucking teeth in.” he warned, not even turning to look in your direction. Your mouth closed, locked tight.
“John, you quit and all those paying fans out there waiting for you will make sure you never get another damn title again.” Mitch threatened. “They’re not here for some still wet-behind-the-ears openers. They’re sure as shit not here for Kozlov.” he laughed sardonically. “They’re here for you. Don’t ruin this.” ‘-for me’ he seemed to leave out.
You couldn’t help but wonder if Mitch was doing this on purpose, or if he was just flat out stupid.
A deep, rumbling noise echoed around the depths of Soap’s expansive chest, lips curling back like a dog. “I do this fight- then I’m done, Mitch.” Mitch beamed, seemingly only hearing the confirmation he’d be fighting tonight. “-Not for yer’ sorry ass and not for those Max Energy bastards either. For the fans.” Soap grit out.
You could see the gears inside the manager’s head turning as he processed the financial hit he would inevitably take if his golden boy were to leave. “John-” Mitch practically whined.
“Not up for debate.” Soap snapped, shooting him a venomous look- and like a tornado on a storm path, he chucked the shorts in the bin and left, dipping back into his locker room.
Mitch sighed, rubbing at his temples before setting his eyes on you.
“Do something. You’re Personal Relations- go relate personally.” Mitch snapped at you as he began digging into the trash to retrieve the shorts.
“Public Relations.” you corrected, earning a frustrated hiss and a dismissive hand wave.
“Don’t change the subject. Get in there.”
You grimaced. “He’ll kill me!”
“Don't be dramatic and hurry up, he's on soon.” Mitch urged, shooing you off. You made a sour face, heaving yourself up off the padded bench before Mitch could find something else to complain about. “-Wait.” Mitch ordered, as if he was telling a dog to heel. “-Second thought," he hummed "scratch that, let him be pissed for the fight. It’ll do numbers.”
-
Loathe as you were to admit, Mitch was correct- all three rounds had been polished off like they were light meals. You were next, surely. Your knee bounced anxiously as you awaited the full oncoming force of Soap’s post-cage high. “Fantastic! MacTavish v Kozlov-” Mitch barked out a laugh. “What a joke Kozlov was, does his team think it's amateur hour?”
“Mitch.” you interrupted, knee falling still. “This isn’t really time for celebrations, you're about to lose your current biggest fighter.” He mowed you down with an eye roll “John just needs time to come to his senses, Max Energy contracts like this are once in a lifetime.”
“He’s not-”
The Locker room door nearly flew off its hinges, a beast coated in sweat and blood emerging. “John!” Mitch grinned with outstretched arms that faltered as the big man stormed straight past him.
God. Good god. He was hurtling towards you. Avert your gaze downwards, you coached yourself, you wouldn’t sit well in the stomach of a dog like him.
Bare feet stopped before you. “You.” he chuffed out around the rubber guard in his mouth, drawing your gaze upwards. “Let’s go.” You looked around, not fully processing the situation. Mitch regained his composure. “Y-yes! Go talk with John.” he urged, desperately latching on to any inch of leeway Soap would give. “Get the fuck out, Mitch.” Soap barked, voice distorted by the EVA covering his teeth.”’Fore I rip yer’ head clean off.”
“R-right! We’ll talk later.” he laughed out nervously and tucked tail as Soap stared you down through the eyes of a starving street dog; getting the hell out of dodge. He kept his eyes on Soap as he left- a survival instinct not to show your back to a hungry predator.
”I tried to warn them about the Max deal.” you pressed once alone, hoping to avoid an argument. “Ah’know, bonnie.” he hummed lowly, a sweaty, gloved hand coming to graze your cheek. His sudden, loose tenderness came as a shock to your system. “Yer’ not like those vultures- Ye’ don’t see me as an asset.” His empty blue eyes relaxed, pupils dilating as his other hand raised to cradle the other side of your face, both thumbs brushing the corners of your lashlines. “Aye, Yer’ the good one. So patient with a daft bastard like me.” Your eyelids trembled slightly, his gaze zeroing in on the movement. “You want me like I want you?”
Your eyes darted to your lap, urging Soap to tap at your cheek. “Eyes up- On me.”
“You give the word and ah’ll treat you better than any man ever could. Ah’ll set ye’ right.” his voice dropped to a low boom. “Yer’ the only good thing ‘round me, have been since the moment we met.” You could still remember why you were hired. Soap was on the come up, but couldn't seem to figure out why getting into random scuffs with strangers over little annoyances was a bad thing. Especially for a man with a body that was essentially a lethal dose of muscle and bulk he had been specially trained in how to throw around. Possible fatal outcomes aside, it wasn't making him a man to root for. Every fight needed tension, but Soap wasn't a man built for pyrrhic victories- he was an underdog, biting and gnashing his way through cage after cage; man after man. He was meant to enjoy his hard-earned glory, and because of your work- MMA fans absolutely adored him.
Soap huffed out, head tilting. “Y-yeah- yes, okay.” you whispered, trying not to psych yourself out. Your lips creased, head nodding before you could chicken out.
Pulled into an blurred vortex, it took you an embarrassing amount of time to realize you were hiked over his shoulder as he lumbered towards his private locker room for the fight, locking the door behind him. Setting you gently on the luxurious industrial sink counter was his last mercy as he ripped off his gloves and clawed at your bottoms and underwear, yanking them off your legs. A freshly-bare and clammy hand braced itself under each thigh as he jacked your legs up and over his broad shoulders, a pleased grunt passing his lips.
He lowered down before cursing and pushing your legs back up against your chest.
You made a small noise, worried you had somehow fucked something up for him which earned you a growl and a headshake as he grunted and spat his mouthguard onto your tummy, sticky saliva coating your skin as it found its resting place before he dove back in, not caring where the plastic ended up.
He pressed open-mouthed kisses at the apex of your thighs, sucking and biting at the skin like he was underfed and hungry. You whined as his teeth kept digging into the sensitive flesh, earning satisfied hums from the man in response, stubble not helping your case. You flexed, legs caging in his head which had seemed to guide him towards your waiting cunt.
The noises he emitted as he lapped at your folds made you feel nauseated and lightheaded, a blushing mess.
A shoulder jerked upwards to support your leg so he could explore the messy folds with a newly-unoccupied hand, but didnt pull his mouth back to give himself the space needed to do so; leaving you reeling at the feeling of such a concentrated area of stimulation.
As if sensing your limits, he bullied his way deeper, growling into your pussy in a way that left black spots at the corner of your vision.
Brutish fingers began to dip into the spot they had been searching for and you could feel his body tense and flex as he practically humped into the space beneath the counter, hips desperately chasing contact it wasn't receiving. He cursed against your flesh, mouth covered in drool and slick as he rose upwards, reminding you of a hulking behemoth as you were forced to accommodate the new position. He gazed down with hazy eyes and a glistening jaw as he focused on jamming whatever he could of his finger into your cunt, twitching and thrusting the digit inside you. As if the stretch wasnt enough to satisfy that itch in the back of his skull, he stuffed in his ring finger next to it, pinky and index bracing his hand as he fucked the fingers into you, transfixed.
You were going to pass out at this rate, his knuckles, malformed from years of improper training and injury- kissed at your inner walls, sending you out of body.
His lids lowered, pace easing as a thought passed his mind. He paused, stretching open the hole as his throat bobbed a few times. Your head clumsily lolled to the side just in time to watch a fat wad of spit drip from his mouth, directly into your slicked pussy. He smiled, happy with himself and savoring the sight for a moment before continuing his ministrations- slower this time, deeper. He angled his hand, thumb massaging at your clit just to see the way you would react.
You didn't disappoint him, the sight of you causing his mouth to part, drool still hanging from his chin. “Fuuuck.” he breathed, drawing the word out. "-What a sight ye' are." His eyes darted back to your cunt, thick brows quirking as he experimentally ground his thumb deeper into your nub, urging a cry to push its way out of your lungs. His teeth glinted as he huffed out a small laugh. “Yer’ being so good to me too, huh?” he rumbled happily, eyes coasting along your stretched folds and it took you a moment to realize he wasn't talking to you. He pulled his fingers out slowly, scooping the mixed fluids up and popping them into his mouth. “Mmh-” he groaned, diving back in to gather more, this time digging deep. the movement finally pushed you over the edge. “Tha’s it.” he praised, dipping his head low to lap his mess beneath your flexing thighs. -
You spent the following half hour under a steaming waterfall shower head with a looming mass tucked against your back, cleaning you up and rutting against you in random incriments- his skin surely emitting steam at a higher rate than the water. He bowed his head into your neck, bunting against you and inhaling the smell of his favourite body wash on your skin. “-Got an offer from 141 Athletics a bit ago, they could take care of it all for us, y'know.” he mumbled, pausing and dragging his nose along your nape. “Yer' coming-" he breathed out. “You work for me, not Mitch- You're coming with me.” you could feel his lips drag up in a sneer against your skin when the man's name left his mouth. In an attempt to comfort him, you tried to turn and face him, but thick arms stopped you, curling under your arms and around your chest, sneaking a feel before pulling you into him, the fatty layer coating his pecs molding against your back like a dream.
You nodded.
“Good.” he sighed.
#batting my lashes at you all. this au makes me feel insane#john soap mactavish#soap#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#x reader#cloth writes
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⋆ angel of mine; i’m probably gonna think about you all the time.
biker!sevika x stripper!chubby!reader. men & minors dni.
synopsis: when you get news of your grandmother’s declining health, you pack what’s left of your life in miami and begin to head home. on the way you meet enigmatic stranger sevika, who gives you a ride.
wc: 10k
cw: age difference! stripper!reader, chubby!reader, fem!reader, mommy issues, implied melvika, implied melvika x reader, strangers to lovers, roadtrips, biker!sevika, resolved sexual tension, codependency, found family, dysfunctional families, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, praise kink, exhibition kink (implied), degradation, name-calling, dom/sub, dom!sevika, sub!reader, hyperfemme!reader, lowkey sugar mommy!sevika.
notes: you can definitely tell i’m southern in this piece. i love the south despite it not loving me (black, sapphic, & female) back. so much of florida contains my family and love though i left it. i hope that comes through. i’m really proud of this and i hope you enjoy. so sorry for any typos i may have missed. let me know what you think & if you want a full melvika x reader pt. ii ! i love you. 𓆉⋆。˚⋆❀ 🐚🫧𓇼 ˖°
playlist: lana born to die: paradise album. listen here.
The white teeth of Miami were always going to eat you alive.
That’s what your grandmother used to say, her voice crackling over the phone, sweet but certain, the way only old women could be. She didn’t say it to scare you—just to remind you that the city, for all its glitter and heat, had sharp edges. She was a lioness, and you were good meat.
You’d felt it too, walking barefoot along the highway, heels swinging in one hand and your purse in the other. The sunset was dying behind you, streaks of cotton candy pink, baby blue, and tangerine smeared across the horizon like someone had finger-painted the sky in haste.
Your cheeks still sparkled faintly under the fading light, remnants of glitter you hadn’t scrubbed off from work. It clung stubbornly, refusing to let go. You’d braided the front of your hair into two plaits that went straight back, falling apart in the middle to join the rest of the mass—wavy and tinsel-streaked. It was your “mermaid hair” as your younger sister loved to call it. You blinked heavily, your 60s-style lashes dragging their soft bodies across your plush cheeks.
The ache in your feet was grounding though, pulling you out of the haze of the club—the strobe lights, the bass that rattled in your ribs, the haze of too many eyes on you.
You’d gotten through the night, but just barely. Grandma’s sick. That had been the thought looping in your head as you swayed under the lights, pretending to be something more desirable than tired. Your mother had called, her voice small and broken. She wouldn’t tell you where she was. I’ll be home tomorrow, you’d promised anyway and then you climbed back on the stage.
You’d scraped together what you could tonight, but not enough for both a cab and the medicine your grandmother needed. The last bus out of town was fucked, something about a technical failure. So, you walked, the stretch of highway endless, the heat still radiating off the asphalt like it was sinking into hell.
You were so distracted by both your raging anxiety and oncoming hunger that the headlights caught you off guard. A single beam at first, low and flickering, until the growl of the engine grew louder, sharper, swallowing the silence. You turned instinctively, lifting a hand to wave—desperation bleeding through the gesture.
The motorcycle slowed. It wasn’t just a machine; it was an extension of her.
Its rider was tall and broad-shouldered, her presence filling the space before she even spoke. A thick, short braid of dark hair hung over her shoulder, catching the light like polished onyx, and her face was all hard angles—sharp jaw, strong brow, a faint scar cutting through her upper lip. She leaned forward slightly, resting her weight on a prosthetic arm that gleamed silver in the twilight. Her eyes, cold at first glance, raked over you, measuring.
For the millionth time that night, you became painfully aware of your appearance. You hadn’t had much time to change before rushing out, so you were stuck in a turquoise spaghetti-strap tank that clung uncomfortably to your skin and a pair of low-rise grey sweatpants, the faded mall-brand logo on the hip barely holding on.
Your purse—a tiny baby pink crossbody clutch—was stretched to its limit, struggling to close over your overstuffed Polo Assn. wallet, its dark brown leather warped by thick stacks of crumpled bills and nearly maxed-out credit cards.
A single white earbud perched in your left ear, the mile-long wire snaking under the loose neckline of your tank and into your hands, where your phone gleamed faintly in the glare of her headlights. Glittery gold, covered in 3D bubble stickers of pale pink and cream roses—your little sister’s handiwork.
Between the heat of the phone and the plastic of the case, you’d tucked a Polaroid: you, your sister, and your aunt, all dolled up in perfect makeup and hoop earrings, the three of you grinning wide enough to make the moment feel permanent. Behind the photo, folded neatly, was a note.
The faintest whiff of smoke clung to you, softened by bellini, cherry, and peach. You’d tried hard to be sweet, always sweet, but it wasn’t enough to cover the night’s work. Especially not tonight.
“You lost?” she asked, her voice gravelly, low, like the rumble of her engine hadn’t entirely faded.
“Not lost,” you said, voice softer than you intended. “Just… trying to get home.”
You were always trying to go home.
She raised a brow, glancing at your bare feet and the glitter still dusting your face. “Long walk.”
You shrugged, exhaustion pulling at the edges of your face.
“No choice.”
For a moment, she just stared at you, her expression unreadable, before she nodded toward the seat behind her.
“Hop on. I’ll get you there.”
You hesitated, your gaze lingering on the gleam of her prosthetic, the way it contrasted with the calloused hand gripping the throttle.
“What’s your name?” you asked, finally, your voice quieter now.
She huffed faintly, tilting her head. “Sevika. And you?”
You gave her your name, your voice carrying the weight of gratitude but a lack of trust. You weighed your options—you had none—and decided that you could only hope she wasn’t insane.
You thought of the note in your phone case.
“Lord, I confess i want the clarity of catastrophe but not the catastrophe. Like everyone else, I want a storm I can dance in. I want an excuse to change my life. Lord if I say bless the cold water you throw on my face, does that make me a costume party. Am I greedy for comfort if I ask you not to kill my friends if I beg you to press your heel against my throat - not enough to ruin me, but just so I can almost see your face.” (x.)
Then, without another word, you climbed onto the bike, your fingers brushing against her shoulders as you steadied yourself.
The engine roared, and the wind hit your face, carrying you forward into the night. You bent your neck, tucked your head into her back, and began to pray.
❀
You woke to a soft hand on your skin.
“Hey. You up?”
The words were quiet, almost careful, but they pulled you from the thin edge of sleep. For a moment, you were disoriented. The ceiling above you was unfamiliar, white with faint water stains bleeding outward like bruises. The couch beneath you creaked as you shifted, and smelled of saltwater and lavender. There was a thin blanket draped over your shoulders but it felt impossibly heavy, anchoring you in place.
Sevika was leaning over you, her face shadowed but sharp in the dim light spilling from another room. Her hand lingered on your hip, her touch surprisingly gentle.
“Come on,” she said, her voice low and gravelly, rasping against the quiet. “Mel wants to meet you.”
“Mel?” you asked, your voice still thick with sleep.
“She lives here. She’s… persistent,” Sevika said with a dry edge, stepping back to give you room to sit up. “And she’s got a thing for taking care of strays. Don’t worry, she’s nice. Nicer than me, anyway.”
The apartment was small, but the stomach of it was softened by a clear effort to make it feel like home.
The walls were painted a pale cream, though the paint was peeling in the corners, and the floors were scuffed wood. The furniture was mismatched, but there was a warmth to it—a knitted throw slung over the back of the couch, a row of half-burned candles on the coffee table, the faint scent of coconut and vanilla lingering in the air.
The windows were open, letting in the salt-thick breeze of the early morning, and a line of photos pinned to the wall swayed slightly, the string barely holding on.
Mel appeared in the doorway to what must have been the bathroom, her figure backlit by the soft, yellow glow. She was taller than you’d expected, her frame lithe but strong, and her black braids pooled over her shoulders like an oil spill, gleaming in the dim light. She held a cherry red hairbrush in one hand and a small bottle of lotion in the other, her brown skin catching the light beautifully.
“You’re awake,” she said, her voice rich but cautious. Her eyes lingered on you for a moment, warm but searching.
Most people tended to treat you this way. It was as if you were a scared animal and they were trying to coax you in.
You nodded, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders.
“Yeah. Sorry—I didn’t mean to intrude here.”
“You didn’t,” Mel said quickly, stepping closer. Her tone softened, her lips curving into a faint smile. “Sev doesn’t bring people home unless she has a reason. You must’ve needed it.”
You hesitated, unsure how to respond. Your gaze flicked to Sevika, who leaned against the wall, her arms crossed over her broad chest, her prosthetic glinting faintly in the soft light. She was watching the two of you, her expression unreadable.
“I’ve seen you before,” Mel said suddenly, drawing your attention back to her. Her smile turned wistful. “At The Siren, right?”
The mention of the club sent a ripple of recognition through you. You nodded slowly, and Mel’s expression shifted, her eyes softening further.
“I thought so,” she murmured. “You helped me once, in the bathroom. I was… having a bad night. You were so sweet.”
The moment came back in pieces. Her face streaked with tears, her voice trembling as she spoke about her mother, about leaving home. You’d handed her a tissue, touched her shoulder lightly, said something comforting.
“I remember,” you said softly, your voice catching in your throat.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Mel said, her gaze steady. “But I’m glad you did.”
She knelt in front of you, holding up the brush. “Let me help you. You’ve had a long night.”
You hesitated, but something in her expression, in the calm warmth of her voice, made you nod. She guided you to the bathroom, which was small and tidy, the mirror rimmed with salt stains and seashells.
As she brushed your hair, her touch was careful, her fingers grazing your scalp like she was afraid of breaking something fragile.
“You’ve got beautiful hair,” she said softly, almost to herself.
“Thanks,” you murmured, your voice faint. “You smell nice.”
Her laugh was quiet, and you felt the warmth of it root deep in your chest.
“Coconut oil,” she said, but there was a blush creeping into her cheeks. “Mixed with vanilla. I like to smell dewey and sugary. Kind of like you.”
You smiled tiredly at her in the mirror, lifting a hand to pat at her wrist. The tender powder pink of your acrylics were bright against it. Behind you, Sevika leaned in the doorway, her presence as steady as a shadow.
“You’re making her shy, Melly,” she teased, her voice like gravel underfoot.
Mel glanced at her, rolling her eyes, but you caught the faintest smile tugging at her lips. As a final touch she added a large bow clip to your tamed strands; it was lilac and worn at the ends.
When you were cleaned up, you reached for your purse, pulling out a crumpled bill.
“Here. Let me—,” you began, holding it out.
Mel’s expression shifted, her smile fading into something more serious as she cut you off. She pushed your hand back gently.
“Honey, you don’t owe me anything.”
The sincerity in her voice caught you off guard, and you tucked the money away, unsure of what to say.
Sevika cleared her throat. “Where are we headed, anyway?”
“Tampa,” you said.
She raised a brow, her smirk returning.
“Figures. You seem like a Tampa girl.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.
Sevika just shrugged, her mouth twitching.
“Guess we’ll find out.”
The three of you stepped into the early morning light, the ocean-heavy breeze brushing against your skin. You didn’t even know you could live this close to the ocean in Miami.
You turned back and caught Sevika and Mel in silent conversation. There was something unspoken between them, between you, something you couldn’t quite name. For now, though, you let it rest.
Grandma’s sick, you reminded yourself. You had to keep going.
❀
The rest of the day swelled with humidity, the horizon bruised with the threat of rain. The Cadillac’s engine purred low, its growl humming beneath the croon of soft rock spilling through the speakers.
You kept your eyes on the window, the world outside blurring as heat shimmered off the asphalt and smeared the palms into a haze.
Sevika hadn’t said much since you got in her car. She didn’t need to.
There was a quiet kind of ease in her presence, a stillness that somehow made the grief gnawing at your chest feel less unbearable. She drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the window frame, her fingers idly toying with a cigarette she hadn’t yet lit.
The smell of the car had settled around you—leather, faint smoke, and something warm you couldn’t name. It was the kind of smell that made you think of safety, though you didn’t know why.
Your phone buzzed in your lap, the screen lighting up with a message from your mother.
Sorry, baby doll. Grandma’s on the brink.
You read the words twice, three times, and still they didn’t make sense. Your fingers tightened around the phone, your nails pressing into its glittery gold case, and something sharp and hot clawed its way up your throat.
Sevika glanced over, her brow furrowing.
“You good?”
You nodded quickly, your lips pressing together to hold back the tears that were already welling. But it was no use. They spilled over, fat and hot, streaking black mascara down your apple-round cheeks.
You turned your head, pretending to watch the passing trees, but your reflection in the window gave you away.
“Shit,” Sevika muttered, low and rough. She took one last drag from her cigarette, then flicked it out the window. “Hold on.”
She pulled off the highway, her movements smooth and deliberate, and guided the car into the gravel lot of a diner. Its neon sign flickered faintly against the gray sky, Chuck’s written in soft pink cursive. The building was small and sweet, painted robin’s egg blue with white shutters and lace curtains framing its windows.
Sevika parked and cut the engine, turning to look at you.
“Come here.”
Her voice was softer now, but it still carried that unshakable steadiness. You hesitated, your hands trembling in your lap, but the look on her face left no room for doubt. You leaned toward her, and her arms came around you, solid and warm, pulling you into her chest.
“It’s okay,” she murmured, her hand smoothing over your hair. “Come on, angel. Just let it out.”
And you did. The sobs came in waves, ripping through you until you were shaking, your fingers clutching the fabric of her shirt like a lifeline. She didn’t flinch, didn’t tell you to stop. She just held you, her hand a steady weight against the back of your head, her thumb brushing small, grounding circles into your shoulder.
You couldn’t remember the last time someone had hugged you like this.
When you finally pulled back, your face was hot, damp, and streaked; your mascara smudged into shadows beneath your eyes. Sevika reached out, her thumb catching the tracks on your cheeks.
“Messy,” she said softly, the hint of a smile tugging at her lips.
The diner’s door chimed as you stepped inside, the scent of fresh coffee and bread washing over you. The interior was impossibly charming, with its pastel booths, checkerboard floors, and the low hum of a jukebox in the corner. You slid into a booth by the window, the vinyl cool against the back of your legs.
Sevika sat across from you, her body filling the small space like a storm cloud, heavy and unshakable. You stared out the window, watching the rain slip down the glass in delicate rivulets. Somewhere in the distance, thunder rolled, low and faint.
“You’re strong, you know that?” Sevika’s voice broke through the quiet.
You turned to her, startled. Her eyes were dark, but they were the softest you’d seen them so far, almost tender.
She reached across the table, her fingers brushing your chin. The touch was light, but it sent a jolt through you, her thumb catching against your skin.
“It’ll be fine,” she said, her voice low and certain. “You’ll be fine. You have to be.”
Outside, the rain fell harder, the sound of it filling the silence between you. And then Sevika let go, her hand retreating back across the table.
The rain continued to blur the diner’s windows, the soft pink neon outside flickering faintly against the new gloom. You stared down at your coffee, the chipped porcelain mug warm in your hands, but it wasn’t enough to steady the tremor that had worked its way into your fingers. The realities of the world felt too sharp, too close, like you might unravel right there in your plain sight.
“Talk to me,” you said suddenly, your voice thin and unsteady. “I feel like I’m about to have a panic attack.”
Sevika’s eyes lifted from her coffee, dark and knowing. Her expression didn’t shift, but something gave in the set of her jaw. She leaned back, one arm slung over the booth’s edge, her other hand absently brushing the lip of her mug.
“What do you want me to say?”
“Anything.” You exhaled shakily, your gaze flicking out to the rain before returning to her. “Tell me why you drive a beat-up Cadillac.”
That pulled a small, low chuckle from her, quiet but rich. She tipped her head, the motion slow and deliberate, and for a moment, you felt less like you were shuddering into beautiful pieces.
“You think she’s beat-up?” Sevika asked, her lips curving faintly.
“She’s held together by rust and prayer,” you said, almost smiling. “I’m just saying.”
Sevika’s laugh came fuller this time, a sound that filled the air without disrupting the other patrons.
“Hey. She’s got character. My dad gave her to me when I was nineteen. She used to be pristine—white leather, a real beauty. But time does what it does.”
You blinked, caught on the number.
“Nineteen?” you asked, hesitant. “How long ago was that?”
Her smirk grew, slow and sharp. “Longer than you’d guess, angel.”
Your brows furrowed, curiosity blooming against the weight in your chest. “How old are you?”
Sevika’s gaze lingered, the kind of look that made you feel seen in a way that was both unnerving and magnetic.
“Old enough to remember when you had to rewind your mixtapes with a pencil,” she said, her voice dry, teasing.
You couldn’t help it—a small laugh slipped out, barely there, but it felt good.
“I’ve always had a thing for older women,” you said absently, the words slipping out before you realized what you’d said.
Her smirk deepened, her eyes sharpening in a way that made your stomach flip.
“That so?” she murmured, her voice low and rich, a swatch of velvet dragged through smoke. “You looking for a mommy, angel?”
Heat flooded your face, vicious and unbearable, and you pushed back from the table, the legs of the chair scraping against the floor.
“I’m, um—gonna order something at the counter,” you mumbled, refusing to meet her gaze.
She chuckled, soft and lazy, her voice following you as you turned toward the counter.
“Go on, sweetheart. Take your time.”
The diner felt warmer, brighter, as you made your way to the counter, the fluorescents buzzing faintly above. You kept your eyes on the menu board, your pulse still thrumming in your ears.
❀
It’s four more hours to Tampa, but it’s the most excruciating period of your life.
You’d left the diner a little steadier, Sevika’s arm brushing yours as you climbed back into her car. The Cadillac rattled like death, its leather seats sticky against your thighs.
You leaned your temple against the window, watching as the flat Florida landscape blurred into soft greens and yellows. The air outside was still thick with heat, even with the sun reducing its intensity as it slunk away.
The highway stretched out like an open wound, raw and endless. You fiddled with the radio dial until a bouncy indie pop song filtered back through the speakers, filling the air with a thousand wailing guitars. Sevika didn’t complain, her focus locked on the road ahead.
At some point, she pulled off into a gravel lot in front of a boutique. The building was small and unassuming, its pink paint faded by time. A hand-painted sign swung lazily in the humid breeze.
“We’re stopping?” you asked, your voice hoarse from exhaustion.
“You need other clothes,” Sevika said simply, stepping out of the car. “Come on.”
The shop smelled faintly of coconut wax and dust, its racks crammed with mismatched pieces that managed to appear more curated than random. Sevika leaned against a rack of jeans, her arms crossed, as you wandered through the aisles.
“We’re strangers,” you said eventually, holding up a knit top to your chest. “Why are you taking care of me?”
Sevika didn’t answer right away. Her gaze dropped to the floor, her jaw tightening in thought.
“I remember being twenty-one,” she said finally. “The world was a lot to handle back then. Some days, it still is.”
You lowered the top and gazed at her, mouth dipping in understanding. She was so beautiful here, despite being far from at home in this confectionery store. Her arms flexed gently as she shifted in place, and you resisted the urge to press her hair out of her face.
“I’m sorry that you know what that feels like.”
“You don’t have to pity me,” she said, the response clearly a reflex.
You smiled crookedly and didn’t press further.
The outfit you picked—a striped knit and high-waisted jeans—felt soft against your skin. The knit hugged your curves, the soft plum-colored neckline slipping just low enough to expose the plush swell of your shoulder. When you stepped out of the dressing room, Sevika gave you a once-over, a faint smirk tugging at her lips.
“You’re a girl with expensive taste,” she teased. “Is that cashmere?”
“It’s my stage name for a reason,” you shot back, smiling softly. “And everything is overpriced here.”
“You look like a doll,” she said, her tone amused.
You rolled your eyes, brushing past her to the counter.
“I’ve got to look a little more appropriate.”
“For what?” she teased. “Tampa doesn’t care.”
“Well , my Aunt Kenna will.”
Unsurprisingly, you found yourself overpowered by Sevika at the register. She pressed her card down, its body sleek and black with silver lettering. Once again, you were struck by the kindness of strangers and you felt your throat tighten.
She gave you a look, as if to quiet your self-effacing urges. Behind the counter, the clerk smiled to herself as she observed the two of you. She was petite and had a pinched face, her hair short and a creamy blonde. Maddie, her tag read. She reminded you a lot of your mother, possessing the same shifty energy of a runner as she racked up your total.
The drive resumed, and with it, you revealed more of yourself to Sevika. You told her about your grandma, about the way she used to braid your hair with fake frangipani from the craft store and sing to you in the evenings where your mother would be gone. How her hands were always soft, even when they were tired. How you used to tuck yourself under the desk at the hospital where she worked when your heart was crumbled by women you definitely shouldn’t have been involved with at eighteen.
You spoke of your aunt, the way she fought to keep the family together, even when it wasn’t hers to save. You spoke of your little sister who in a way was also your child, how you did most things in life for her sake.
Sevika listened in silence, her hand resting on the wheel, her gaze never straying from the road. There was something in her stillness that made you feel seen, even when the words caught in your throat.
When you finally crossed into Tampa, the sky was dyed indigo and gold, the houses lining the street glowing faintly in the dusk.
You rolled the window down and leaned out, your phone poised to capture the image forever on your cracked back camera. You were such a tall child.
The warm air stroked against the moon of your face, tugged at the ends of your hair and dried your lips. You felt Sevika’s hand slide to your thigh, just below the crease of your ass, heavy and grounding, and you froze. Her palm was rough against the soft give of your flesh, her fingers splayed just enough to keep you steady.
“Don’t fall out,” she muttered, her voice tinged with quiet amusement.
“I won’t,” you said, but you sat back soon after, your heart beating a little too fast.
Sevika’s hand lingered a second longer before retreating to the wheel.
The butter-yellow house came into view, its shutters glowing faintly in the twilight. Your breath hitched. It looked the same as it always had, though the paint was more weathered, the steps chipped at the edges.
Sevika pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. The silence was deafening. You fumbled with your purse, fingers trembling, but before you could open the door, Sevika’s hand found your chin. She turned your face toward hers, her thumb brushing just beneath your jaw.
“It’s gonna be okay,” she said, her voice low and steady. “Always is.”
Her eyes held you in place, dark and unflinching.
You nodded, though you weren’t sure if you believed her. Before you could think too much of it, you leaned forward and brushed a kiss across her cheek. Over her scar.
“Thank you.”
Her mouth parted, but the screen door creaked open, and you saw your aunt step onto the porch, her arms crossed and one brow raised in quiet judgment. You hesitated, glancing back at Sevika.
“You could come in,” you offered, the words heavier than they should have been.
She hesitated, her gaze flicking to your aunt before landing back on you. She pushed off the seat and got out to follow you, her presence like a shadow at your back.
The porch light hummed faintly as you step inside, and a creamy warmth filled your chest. Your sister cheered when she saw you, and you laughed—your eyesight blurring. For the first time in hours, you felt like you could breathe.
❀
As always, you dived in headfirst and sought out your grandmother’s room.
It was a terrible mistake. You couldn’t handle seeing her like that.
Almost immediately, bile surged up your throat, sharp and acidic, and you bolted—pausing just long enough to set the medicine down on her nightstand with quaking hands. You burst outside, where the air was sweltering with salt and the sudden impact of your new reality.
You weren’t good with death, not in any of its forms.
When your daddy died, something inside you cracked clean in half, the break jagged and irreparable. You’d felt a piece of yourself slip down into his grave, like a loose flower. Since then, you’d clung to the hope that love—your love—could somehow keep the people you cared about alive. At least until you felt ready for the loss.
Your chest ached in a way that felt both too familiar and entirely new, like grief had leveled your ribs to construct a home in your body. You rubbed at it absently, trying to dull the pressure blooming there, blinking hard against the rising tide of tears.
She was going to die. You knew this. It settled into your stomach like lead, poisoning you.
Behind you, the woods creaked, the trees’ chorus soft and low, like they were joining you in mourning. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.
“Hey, angel,” Sevika said, her voice low and warm, the kind of soft you wouldn’t have expected from her. It caught you off guard every time. “You alright?”
“I’m not going back in there,” you said quickly, your voice brittle and thin.
“You don’t have to.” There was a pause, long enough to make your chest tighten. Then, quieter, “Can you look at me?”
You hesitated, staring down at your hands, at the chipping polish on your grown out tips and the way your fingers trembled. You could feel her waiting, patient and steady, like she’d stand there all night if you needed her to. Finally, you turned, slow and reluctant, until your eyes met hers.
Sevika stood at the edge of the porch, broad shoulders framed by the faded light. Her face was unreadable, but not unkind.
“Come here,” she said, barely above a whisper.
You didn’t think. You moved, inching forward on unsteady legs and stepping into her orbit. Her hands came up instinctively, one curling around your elbow, the other hovering just above your waist, as if she wasn’t sure where to touch you.
“I can’t go back in there,” you repeated, your voice cracking.
“[Name]—,”
“She’s dying.”
“But you knew that. You can’t leave her when she needs you the most.
“I’m tired of people fucking needing me.” You crossed your arms over your torso, holding yourself. “They all just leave anyway.”
“When you love people, that’s the process. That’s life’s price.
The words hit you like a perfect blow, and before you could stop yourself, you were crying—big, fat tears that streaked your cheeks with warmth and made your mascara run. You tried to turn away, but her hand found your chin, tilting your face back toward hers.
“Hey,” she murmured, her thumb brushing a tear from your cheek. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s unfair, I know. Trust me, I know. Let it out.”
And you did. You let the sobs take you, let them rip through you wave after wave, until you were clinging to her shirt, the fabric balled tightly in your fists. She held you through it, solid and unfaltering, her hand steady against your back.
When the tears finally subsided, you felt drained, like you’d been wrung out and left to dry. But her arms stayed around you.
❀
Sevika managed to coax you inside, shivering and bleating like a lamb, but the house was newly unbearable.
Every room smelled like antiseptic and something sweetly rotting beneath the surface, a scent that clung to your hair and the back of your throat. The walls felt too bright, too alive for what was happening inside them.
It was like the house was mocking you. Every sound—your grandmother’s labored breathing, the clock ticking too loudly in the kitchen, your little sister’s restless movements on the couch—seemed to close in on you.
You couldn’t stay. Not in that room, not in that house. Maybe you took after your mother more than you liked to admit.
Your sister looked so small on the couch, her legs tucked beneath her and her face blank as she stared at the flickering TV. She was holding onto the hem of her dress like it might unravel if she let go and the man on the screen promised to get her a spot in heaven, under God’s thumb. Bullshit.
When you spoke, your voice was soft, barely audible over the droning hum of the television.
“Get your shoes on, bug,” you said. “We’re going to the beach.”
Her head snapped up, her wide eyes searching yours for a moment before she nodded and slid off the couch.
You were almost out the door when your aunt caught you, her voice sharp but quiet.
“You better know what you’re doing with that woman.”
Kenna’s words stopped you cold, the strap of your bag digging into your shoulder as you turned to face her. She stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her face shadowed by the dim porch light.
“I don’t know what I’m doing with her,” you admitted, your voice low. “But I know I trust her.”
Your aunt studied you for a long moment, her gaze heavy and cutting. Finally, she stepped aside, her expression softening just enough to let you know she wasn’t angry, just worried.
“I know what infatuation looks like. I know what love looks like too, even when it’s still on its way. It’s coming, baby. Just—,”she sighed, breaking off.
“Just be careful,” she finished.
You hugged her tight, sagging as she slid a hand over her hair before letting you go.
Sevika was waiting in the car, her arm draped over the steering wheel, her face unreadable in the twilight. Your sister climbed into the backseat, curling up immediately with her Lisa Frank coloring book, and you slid into the passenger seat without a word.
The drive was quiet, the low hum of the city filling the space between you. Sevika didn’t push, didn’t ask what had happened inside. She just drove, and you were so grateful you could’ve kissed her.
The beach was nearly empty when you arrived, the sun beyond gone now. You spread a blanket out on the cool gray sand, letting your sister run down to the water. Her laughter echoed faintly, carried by the breeze, and for a moment, you let yourself relax.
You pulled off your woven cover-up, revealing the soft orange bikini you’d slipped on. The well-loved fabric clung to you, accentuating the plush curves of your body in a way that made you stall for only a moment. But then Sevika looked at you, and the way her gaze dragged over you made all air flee your throat.
She swallowed hard, her jaw working as she tore her eyes away and stared out at the water instead.
“You look nice,” she said, her voice gruff.
You snorted, sitting down on the blanket.
“Nice?”
“Very nice,” she amended, but the rasp in her voice gave her away.
“You do too,” you told her and you meant it.
She was gorgeous in her black cropped tee and little black cargoes. This was “as beachy as she was willing to get”. You didn’t give a damn. You wanted to eat her alive.
The sky deepened into a hazy indigo, the stars faint and scattered. Your sister danced along the shoreline, her feet splashing in the shallow waves. You watched her, your chest aching with something you couldn’t name.
“I wish this was my entire life,” you murmured, more to yourself than to Sevika.
She turned to you, her brow furrowed.
“What do you mean?”
“This,” you said, gesturing to your sister. “Taking care of her. Taking care of my daughter with my wife. No illness, no bills piling up, no—” Your voice broke, and you swallowed hard. “No worries. Just a quiet life.”
Sevika didn’t respond right away. When you finally looked at her, her face was so soft in a way you knew was probably a rarity. Her prosthetic raised in an aborted motion, as if she’d thought to touch your face.
“I could take care of you, baby,” she said quietly, the words slipping from her lips like a promise.
Your breath caught, your pulse thrumming in your ears.
“Come back with me, [Name],” she said, her voice low and steady. “Stay with me and Melly. Bring [Sister’s Name]. You don’t have to do it alone all the time.”
The fantasy of her words pressed against your chest, warm and overwhelming. For a moment, you let yourself imagine it: her, Melly, your sister, a life where the world's heaviness couldn’t crush you.
Your sister called out from the water, waving a piece of driftwood she’d found, and the moment broke. Sevika’s hand brushed yours, solid and grounding, and when you turned back to her, her eyes were still on you, waiting.
The tide lapped at the shore, the sound mingling with your sister’s laughter, and you felt a rising pulse in your mouth, on your tongue.
“They do fireworks at the docks. You have to pay, but we sneak in all the time. You wanna see?”
“Sure,” Sevika said.
The answer came so easily and you knew she’d give you everything. Maybe even love you forever. The thought made you tingle and you dug your toes into the sand.
“Let’s go,” you said, your pinky twisting around hers.
You both knew you weren’t talking about the fireworks.
With a wry smile she rose and set about taking you home again.
Your sister—forever your baby—was curled fast asleep in the back seat of Sevika’s car by the time you pulled out of the lot, her face slack with the kind of peace only children seemed capable of. Her soft snores filled the space between you as Sevika drove back to your grandmother’s house, the streets quiet and warm, lit faintly by streetlights. The evening air hung heavy, sticking to your skin like a second layer.
You glanced at Sevika as she drove, her profile lit in flashes by the passing lights. Her grip on the wheel was loose, but her fingers drummed absently against the leather, her thoughts somewhere else. Maybe with you.
You wondered if she was nervous. You wondered if she knew how much you were.
“She’s out like a light,” Sevika murmured, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Guess it’s just us.”
You swallowed, your fingers playing with the hem of your cover-up, and nodded. “Just us.”
Your aunt was waiting on the porch when you arrived. She was perched on the railing, her vape glowing faintly in the dark. You knew the scent without looking: cucumber, apple, and sour cherry.
Her sharp gaze moved between the two of you as Sevika carried your sister inside, her long stride easy and steady despite the weight of the little girl in her arms.
“Enjoyed your family outing?” Aunt Kenna asked, teasing but pointed, as you lingered by the door.
You blinked at her, startled, heat rising in your cheeks. “It wasn’t like that.”
She snorted, taking a long drag. “Sure it wasn’t .”
❀
The docks were quieter than you expected when you arrived. Most of the families had settled in their little corners, kids running barefoot across the wooden planks, their laughter echoing into the open sky. The air smelled of pear, peach blossoms, and distant charcoal grills, a mix of sugar and fire that felt like the very essence of where you’d been born and raised.
Sevika parked far enough away to avoid the crowd but close enough for you to see the shimmering reflections of the boats swaying in the dark water. She leaned back against the hood of her car, her long legs stretched out in front of her, and watched as you wandered closer to the edge, the creamy orange of your tiny bikini glowing faintly in the dim light.
You should’ve been illegal.
“Careful, angel,” she called, her voice warm, fond. “You fall in, I’m not jumping after you.”
You turned, smirking, the breeze tugging at the bow sitting pretty in the middle of your full breasts.
“I can swim.”
“Doesn’t mean I want to fish you out,” she said, but her smile gave her away. She was watching you so intently, her gaze loaded, as if committing you to memory.
You walked back toward her, your arms wrapped around yourself, and stopped just a foot away. The tension between you was almost tangible now, electric. You could feel it humming in the air, in the way her eyes lingered on the curve of your wide hips, the dip of your collarbone. It made your breath hitch.
“I’ve always loved the docks,” you said softly. “They feel… timeless. Like you could stand here forever and nothing would change.”
Sevika hummed, tilting her head to look up at you. “You think that’s a good thing?”
You shrugged, your lips curving faintly.
“Sometimes.”
The first firework burst above you then, a bloom of pink and gold that lit up the sky and reflected off the water. A shock of red followed shortly after. You both looked up, the moment suspended, the sound of the explosion echoing in your chest.
You glanced at Sevika, her face bathed in the soft glow of the fireworks, and felt something shift inside you. Something undeniable.
The show continued, and you moved to lean against the hood of her car. The metal was warm and your stomach was buzzing at the nearness of Sevika’s broad body.
By the time the fireworks were halfway through, you couldn’t focus on them anymore. The loud bursts of color seemed secondary to the way Sevika was lounging next to you, her broad shoulders relaxed, her eyes soaking in the way goosebumps bubbled along your arms. It felt like she was daring you to do something, to cross the line you’d been dancing around since she’d swept you off the highway.
You moved closer, your bare feet brushing against hers, and she straightened slightly, her head listing to the side as she watched you.
“What are you thinking?” she asked, her voice low.
You swallowed hard, your heart pounding.
“I’m thinking…” You trailed off, your fingers twisting in the sides of your bikini bottom. “I’m thinking this feels… nice.”
Her lips quirked, just slightly, but her gaze was serious. “Nice?”
“So good,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I feel… safe with you. Things are perfect like this, and—and I’m probably never gonna feel this way again.”
The words hung between you, honest and raw, and you could see the way they landed on her, the way her expression softened, her guard slipping for just a moment.
“I’d never hurt you,” she said, her voice firm but gentle. “You know that, right?”
You nodded, stepping even closer until you were standing between her legs, the warmth of her body seeping into yours. “I know.”
You didn’t, really. She could be selling you a paper thin dream. But your hope had always been the largest part of you. It spurred the flame you felt for her, your aching burning desire to be with her all the time. To ride by her side without question.
Her hand came up then, hesitating for just a second before settling on your waist. The touch was light, almost cautious, but it sent an electric current straight through you.
“Sevika,” you whispered, your voice stumbling.
She leaned in slightly, her breath warm against your cheek.
“Yeah?”
You didn’t answer. Instead, you closed the gap between you, your lips brushing against hers in a kiss that felt just right, like the tide meeting the shore. Your body lit up, and you collapsed into her—trusting and free.
She stilled for a moment, as if surprised, but then her hand tightened on your waist and she kissed you back, slow and deliberate.
The world seemed to fade then, the fireworks a distant, glittering symphony in the black sky. All you could feel was her—her warmth, her strength, the way she seemed determined to hold you together even as you felt like you might fall apart.
When you finally pulled back, your breath coming in weak gasps, lightheaded and aching to faint, she rested her forehead against yours, searching your dilated eyes.
Your lip gloss was smeared across Sevika’s jaw, leaving a streak of shimmering peach and rose that caught in the fleeting light of the evening. It clung to her skin, soft and vivid As she moved, the stain glistened faintly, the contrast against her sharp, weathered features sending a slow, aching thrill down your spine.
It was yours, this faint, glittering mark, lingering in the space where your mouth had been. She made no effort to remove it.
“Angel,” she murmured, her voice rough. “You sure about this?”
You nodded, your hands clutching at her shoulders. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
Her smile was soft, almost reverent, as she pressed another searing kiss to your lips.
“Come on,” she said, pulling back just enough to look at you. “Let’s get in the car.”
❀
Your palm slapped hard against the roof, your teeth almost tearing through your bottom lip as you tried to hold back a loud moan.
Beneath you, Sevika gripped the copious flesh of your ass as she sucked at your clit.
“Oh, shit, Sevika. Fuck.”
In the beginning you were so careful, worried about blocking her airway. With a hard slap to your ass she pulled you down, relentless in taking all of you.
“Hnnnnnh,” you whimpered. “Sevi, fuuuuuck.”
Sevika hummed in satisfaction at that. As she watched your face she grazed your clit with her teeth, relishing in how you arched.
You were so warm and supple between her fingers, your pussy slobbering over her nose and mouth. You tasted so good, so musky and honeyed. She never wanted to let you go.
Slowly, she slide you down and pressed you down to her chest as she undid your bikini top so that your tits spilled eagerly against her own. She then tenderly tucked two fingers inside of you, cooing as you whined at the stretch.
She began to bounce you by the fabric of your bottoms, forcing you to ride her fingers until they were covered in the thin film of your wetness. You moaned at her strength, at how easily she’d decided how you’d take her.
“Good fucking girl. So sweet, aren’t you, baby? Hmm?”
“Sevi, please. Just—just a little faster.”
She grinned meanly, inserting a third finger and curling them—raking cruelly against your g-spot. You sank further into her, swiveling your hips if only to get her deeper. To take her harder. Your pussy was weeping, emptying itself onto her hand.
“Jesus, sweetheart. You’re leaking all over me. ‘M never gonna get this out of these seats.”
“Good,” you breathed out, smiling impishly.
Sevika’s eyes darkened and she suddenly rearranged you till you were on your back against the leather seats, your legs wholly spread. she lowered between them, licking a long stripe up to your clit experimentally.
She had you soft and loose. You didn’t realize just how spacious this car was.
You moaned, high and loud, snapping into an arch until you were forced to come back down, Sevika’s arm holding your hips firmly. Your eyes were closed now, and your eyelids were no longer just black, explosions of color staining them, ripping through you.
Sevika lapped at you, taking her time but still intentional with the way she touched you. She used a hand to spread you apart burying her face into her pussy, her nose becoming wet again with your rabid need. She became messy, moving her head back and forth, slurping at you until you were almost shaking, on the edge of something greater.
Settling back just slightly, she spat harshly into your cunt and rubbed it into your clit, pressing down until it was close to painful. You couldn’t breathe correctly. You couldn’t even remember your name.
"Sevi. Sevi. Mommy, oh my fucking God.“
Sevika said nothing, just caught a lip of your cunt between her teeth, biting down as she slid her fingers back in.
"Unh," is what you had to add to the nonexistent conversation and Sevika grinned against you.
She spread her fingers and then curled them, dragging your hips into her lap as she sat up. You couldn’t feel your fucking legs.
"Yes. Yeah. Yeah, just like that. It feels so fucking good."
Sevika was driven and vicious, determined to eat away at the woman beneath her. You curved your back as your orgasm approached, determined to feel it all the way up in the cavern of your mouth. You needed this.
Sevika leaned over you, tilting your head down so that you were looking at one another.
"I want you to keep looking at me as you cum."
You made a faint noise of agreement and clutched at Sevika’s arms. She took your hands and placed them underneath your knees, so that you could hold yourself open. It spread you apart until she was able to view how pink and puffy you were.
“I can’t wait to get you in bed, honey. ‘M gonna bend you over, open that tight little cunt with my cock, and watch you swallow me.”
“Oh.” You let a little groan of satisfaction as she thumbed at your clit.
Sevika pressed your foreheads together and thumbed at your mouth. You felt both here and there, brain blanking.
“Ohh,” she mocked you with a slight smile. “You’re so fucking cute.”
You cast your head back as Sevika returned her mouth to your pussy, suckling at it in combination with her fingers carving a space deep inside of you.
"Come on, angel," she urged. "Be good for me."
You were trying, goddamnit.
"Gonna take a photo of this creamy cunt. Show Melly, tell her that I did this. That you let me."
You let out a high whine, and she nodded in faux sympathy.
“Mmm? Is that what you want to do? Want me to take you to that shitty club and spread you open on stage? Stake my claim?”
A fourth finger now. Her voice dropped as if telling you a secret.
“Maybe I’ll slide some cold, hard cash into this slutty cunt, stretch that slit.” Faster now. Your toes curled. “ Fuck. I’m sorry, baby. Mommy just wants to slut you out.”
She pressed a delicate kiss to your cunt and you were unsure if what came next was just the slam of your hand against the door echoing or another firework going off.
All you knew was that the world around you was roaring, that she refused to stop. All you knew was her digging into you.
You imploded.
❀
The drive back was quiet, the tension between you still palpable but softer now, sated and sleepy. Sevika reached over once, her fingers brushing against your cheek and you shifted, pressing the petals of your lips into the center of her palm without hesitation.
When you finally pulled into your grandmother’s driveway, the house bathed in the soft glow of the porch light, you turned to her, your heart full to bursting.
“Stay,” you said, your emotions splayed wide open. “Just for a little while.”
She looked at you for a long moment, and then she nodded. “Okay.”
You both knew it wasn’t just for a little while.
❀
The house smelled like hibiscus and coffee when you walked in, the faint scent of six-dollar soy candles lingering in the corners. Your aunt was at the sink, her hands submerged in soapy water, her curls pinned back with a clip. She turned when she heard the door creak open, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly as she took in Sevika trailing behind you, broad-shouldered and quiet.
“You brought her back?” she asked, not in a disparaging manner, though her tone carried the weight of an older woman who’d seen it all.
“[Sister’s Name] forgot something in her car,” you lied easily, gesturing toward said alibi, who was peeking into the kitchen while rubbing a fist over her eye, her drowsy greeting muffled as she dragged her blanket behind her.
Your aunt didn’t look convinced, but she didn’t argue either. Instead, she flicked her chin toward the counter.
“If she’s staying, she may as well help.”
Sevika looked at you, one brow arched slightly in amusement. You shrugged, trying to play it cool, though the idea of her folding herself into your life—even for something as mundane as this—made your stomach swoop.
The kitchen was broiling, almost unbearably so, with the old oven humming faintly and the humidity from the day still clinging to the walls. Sevika rolled up her sleeves, revealing the curve of her forearms, the prosthetic gleaming faintly in the soft overhead light.
You tried not to stare, but your eyes kept drifting—over the way her hands moved as she dried the dishes your aunt handed her, the faint flex of muscle under her skin.
“You ever wash a dish before?” your aunt asked, a smirk tugging at her lips.
“Plenty,” Sevika admitted, her voice low and even. “Did a couple restaurant stints when I first came to this place. I was hoping to never do that shit again.”
You bit back a smile, ducking your head as you reached for a towel to dry the counter. The space felt smaller with her in it, her silhouette filling every corner, her quick movements electric.
Your aunt glanced between the two of you, her gaze lingering on Sevika before she handed her another plate.
“You’re a hard worker. Good. She needs someone who can keep up.”
Sevika’s lips quirked, but she didn’t respond, her attention focused on the task in front of her.
The radio crackled faintly from the corner, playing some old Cuban bolero your aunt loved, and you found yourself swaying slightly as you worked, the rhythm infectious. You caught Sevika watching you out of the corner of her eye, her gaze soft but intent, and your cheeks warmed.
“You dance to this too?” she asked, her voice pitched low enough that your aunt didn’t catch it.
“Sometimes,” you said, keeping your focus on the counter. “Not for free, though.”
She chuckled, the sound rumbling deep in her chest. “Figures.”
Your aunt, oblivious or maybe just tactfully ignoring the tension that weaved itself between you, turned to Sevika with a clean dish in hand.
“Rinse this for me, would you? And don’t let her distract you—she’s been trouble since she could fucking walk.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Sevika said, glancing at you with a spark of amusement in her eyes.
The night wore on, the kitchen growing quieter as your aunt finally finished and stepped out to check on your sister. You stayed behind, leaning against the counter as Sevika dried her hands on a threadbare patch of towel.
“I can’t believe you were hustling in restaurants,” you said, nodding toward the sink.
She smirked, tossing the towel onto the counter.
“Don’t sound so surprised. I can be a delight.”
You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you.
“Thanks for helping.”
“Anytime,” she said, her voice softening slightly.
You watched her for a moment, the way her shoulders seemed less tense now, the way her hair caught the light. The memory of her hands on you earlier still lingered, watering over your skin. It was a secret only the two of you shared.
“You okay?” she asked, her brow furrowing slightly as she stepped closer.
You nodded, though your chest felt tight, your pulse thrumming in your ears.
“Yeah. Just a little tired.”
Her hand brushed yours, just barely, but it was enough to make your heart skip. She noticed, her gaze dropping to where your fingers nearly touched before she pulled back, her jaw tightening.
“We should get some sleep,” she said, her voice quieter now.
“Yeah,” you murmured, though you didn’t move.
For a moment, neither of you did, the hum of the radio the only sound in the room. Then she stepped back, giving you space you didn’t want, and you let her.
❀
Your bedroom felt much like the inside of a shell—quiet and strange, the air soaked with a mixture of rose, magnolia, and something darker, something that sat low in your chest. You could still taste the golden slices of your childhood, still feel the ache in your ribs that came from building elaborate forts.
But now there was Sevika, solid and steady beneath you.
As soon as the door had closed, she’d taken you apart slowly, carefully, as though she’d known you needed it to feel stable again.
The rough pads of her fingers, the soft murmur of her voice, the way she called you princess like it was the only name you’d ever had. And you had suffered in silence, hand across your mouth as you clenched and shook around her head for the third time, then the fourth.
You’d finally tired after a good ride on her thigh, holding on desperately to the nape of neck. Her baby hair was soft there, tender. She came when you kissed her nose, slid down to her mouth, and called her beautiful. She’d whimpered, bucked awkwardly around your fingers, and you held her to you as you whispered her name.
You’d looked it up in the bathroom. Sevika. Of Indian and Sanskrit origin. Servant of God.
Now, she lay between your legs, her head resting heavy and warm against your stomach. The weight of her felt magical, made your body feel more virginal than it ever had been, and you sighed lowly as the first rays of sunlight slipped through the blinds, casting pale gold stripes across her back.
The swan wings stretched with her every move, the feathers catching flight as she breathed. Muted ivory and soft grays leaned tenderly into the faintest hints of lavender and navy blue, the delicate gradient of ink glowing against her deep, bronze skin.
You reached out, tracing the curve of a wing’s tip near her shoulder blade. The ink felt warm under your fingertips, her skin soft but unyielding. The swan’s head, nestled at the base of her neck where the wings met, was elegant and sharp, its eyes bright as if they could see into you. You followed the line of its neck with your thumb, your touch lingering at the place where her spine dipped, and she hummed low in her throat, a sound that vibrated through your body.
She tilted her head, her cheek brushing against the softness of your belly as her eyes opened slowly, sleep still heavy in her gaze.
“You like it?” she murmured, voice rough and low.
“It’s beautiful,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re beautiful.”
You had already said this, and the reminder made you blush in embarrassment. A slow, lopsided smile tugged at her lips, and she closed her eyes again, sinking deeper into you as if she belonged there. You felt her hand slide up to rest on your thigh, her fingers splayed against your skin, holding you in place like she was afraid you’d disappear into the rising morning.
Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, and you flinched at the sound, the world outside pressing back in. Sevika didn’t move, just let her hand trail lazily up your spine as you reached for it. The screen glowed with messages from your aunt:
aunt kenna 𓆉: Couldn’t get anyone to cover the rest of my shifts this week. aunt kenna 𓆉: Mom’s still kicking. She’s getting stronger. aunt kenna 𓆉: Ty for coming home. See you soon. Love you, bug x
Still alive, you thought. The words lit up something inside you, bright and raw and impossible to contain. You laughed, the sound catching on the edge of a sob, and dropped the phone onto the bed.
“What is it?” Sevika asked, her voice filling with concern.
You didn’t answer right away. You couldn’t. The words tangled in your throat. Instead, you turned to her, your fingers trembling as they found her face, tracing the line of her jaw, the curve of her full mouth.
“She’s still alive,” you whispered, the words spilling out like a prayer.
Her eyes softened, her hand sliding up to cradle your face, her thumb brushing against the corner of your mouth.
“Yeah,” she said, her voice steady, certain. “She’s a strong woman, just like the rest of you.”
The relief hit you all at once, sharp and overwhelming, and you kissed her because you couldn’t think of anything else to do. It was messy and desperate, your hands fisting in her hair as you tried to pour every unspoken thing into her mouth. She let you, her body surrendering to its basest urges .
“Still alive,” you repeated, this time against her lips, your forehead resting against hers as your tears slipped silently onto her skin.
“Mmhmm,” she murmured, her voice soft but sure, her hands steady on your hips. “You’re all gonna live forever.”
You kissed her again, because you needed to. You needed her.
You believed her.
And the truth was you didn’t know how good it would get for the two (five) of you.
You’d look back, let go, lose this part of things. Take your baby sister and leave.
You’d still be you, but you'd be free.
taglist: @miles-42-morales @indigopearl96 @marvelwomenarehot0 @vintagelotus345 @queen-simone @uronlymiaa @namuranguinhos @femlesbianbarbie @femme-historian @vikaswife @powderpinkandsweeet @drgnflyteabox @icespiceluva @theirlaliengirl @supermanwifey @nkeyaaa @batmanslittlelover @strawberrykidneystone @shimmerstraps
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#sevika x reader#sevika x y/n#sevika x you#sevika x mel#mel x sevika#mel x you#mel x reader#melvika#mel medarda#mel medarda x reader#mel medarda x you#wlw smut#lesbian#sapphic#arcane fanfic#sevika arcane#arcane smut
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A Very Patient Man | LJH
Pairing: Lee Jihoon x AFAB!Reader
Rating: M 🔞; NSFW
Genre: F2L; FWB; smut; pwp
Warnings: cussing; breast play; fingering; cunnilingus; unprotected sex; PIV sex; riding; ass smacking; dirty talk; creampie
Word count: 4.6k words
Summary: You’re frustrated because it takes you longer to reach an orgasm during sex. This has made you feel insecure, and you started to accept the fact you’d never meet someone patient enough to give you the attention you need. Your friend, Jihoon, casually offers a solution.
A/N: Idk. I slipped and fell onto my keyboard and all this horny word vomit spilled out. Thanks to @roaminginthenights for always enabling me in the DMs 🤣
This is also un-beta'd so...it is what it is.
Anyway! Here’s something filthy to end the year! 💜
It started innocently enough at Jihoon’s studio. You were sitting on his couch, venting about your dating life, and as always, he listened attentively just as you do when he shares his own experiences.
However, today’s visit was different. He’s letting you ramble on about a very specific topic.
“I feel like there’s an invisible time limit on foreplay.”
Jihoon’s chair creaks as he leans back, laughing at your incredulous claim. “No, there isn’t!”
“But I really think there is!” you argue. “My last date got visibly impatient, even though I...” you inhale through your teeth, “clearly asked him for more time down there. Instead, he just said, ‘It’s been five minutes, it’s my turn now.’” You huff in annoyance.
“Well, that sucks. Did you get rid of him?”
You grimace before replying. “Please don’t judge me. He was cute, so we still fucked. My vibrator finished the job,” you admit guiltily. “I blocked him on the app afterward though.”
He sighs, shaking his head in mild disappointment. “You shouldn’t compromise on your needs. If you want more time, say so and stick with it.”
You huffed wistfully. “I just take too long. I get all panicky when someone’s been down there for longer than 5 minutes.”
“You can’t rush pleasure,” he comments.
“I know that, but now, it makes me think—how long is too long before you come? Is there a play clock winding down on the field? Do I need to call out an audible?”
He doubles over again, laughing when you start using sports metaphors.
“How can some women summon an orgasm—” you snap your fingers, “just like that?”
His laughs subside, turning more serious now. “Don’t do that. Don’t compare yourself to other people. Everybody’s different.”
“Yes, thank you for reminding me,” you remark sarcastically.
He turns away to face his screen, adding more edits to a track he’s working on.
“I don’t know…” you mumble, shrugging in defeat. “I guess my vibrator and I are destined to spend the rest of our lives together. Might as well reserve matching burial plots.”
Jihoon snorts. “You just haven’t found the right partner. A really patient one, I might add,” he says, half-joking.
You smack him on his bicep, and your hand stings from the unexpected firmness under his oversized shirt. Has his arm always been this solid? When was the last time you touched his bicep? Wait—why are you even thinking of his bicep?
You and Jihoon have been close friends since college, maintaining a purely platonic relationship—never a hint of romance or sexual tension between you. On rare nights out, you even act as each other’s wingman, helping one another find potential dates. You two simply click on a different level—easy and no complications.
He looked up from his mixing board, turning to you with a slight smirk. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you, but I happen to be very patient.”
The lilt in his voice was unmistakable. It was the kind of tone he used when chatting up potential conquests on your nights out.
You let out a short, humorless laugh. “Don’t you dare use that Joey Tribbiani move on me.”
“It’s not a move.” He keeps his face serious, looking genuinely hurt by your comment. “You’re my friend. I wouldn’t do that to you,” he says softly. “I’m just saying, if you ever wanted to try, I’m game.” He tilts his head, giving a casual shrug. “No judgment.”
You stare at him, stunned, as his offer hangs in the air. You try to laugh it off, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.
Was he seriously proposing that you two—nope! You refuse to go there. Jihoon is a great friend, and although you trust him, you’re not sure you’d be comfortable with the idea of...
You shake your head. You can’t even finish the thought. You glance at your watch for no reason at all.
“You know, I think I’m going to call it a night.”
“Oh? I thought you wanted to grab dinner?” He’s surprised and confused at your sudden change of plans.
“It’s getting late.”
Truthfully, it wasn’t that late. You feel guilty lying to your friend, but you need to escape this conversation—and this situation—as quickly as possible.
“I just got a notification from work. I need to come in early, yada-yada…You know how it is.”
He looks disappointed but doesn’t push. You gather your things, slipping your puffer jacket on, despite the room feeling several degrees warmer.
“Alright. If you’re sure—”
“Yeah,” you cut him off. That came out more tersely than you initially intended. “I’m sure,” you add with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes to try and make up for it.
He rises from his seat when you do and moves in for a hug—just like he usually does. But this time, the hug feels different; you’re suddenly hyperaware of his touch, your skin tingling all over. You return his hug stiffly, without your usual warmth, then hurry out of his studio and immediately tear off your too-hot jacket.
That night, your dreams were filled with visions—his hands tracing paths across your skin, his dark head dipping between your thighs, his intense gaze meeting yours as you hovered on the edge of unbridled pleasure. The dream felt so vivid you could have sworn you felt the warmth of his breath against your skin. It wasn’t until your alarm began blaring, leaving you trembling and drenched in sweat, that reality came crashing back.
********************************************
A couple of days passed, and you couldn’t stop thinking about Jihoon. This wasn’t your usual “hope he remembered to eat lunch” thoughts or impulse to send him funny memes that popped up on your algorithm.
After your NSFW dream about him, you started noticing little things about him you’d never paid attention to before—the adorable way he’d scrunch up his nose while concentrating on work, how his muscles moved when he reached for something, or how the warm red studio lights perfectly highlighted his features.
You shake your head. It’s not that deep. Jihoon’s suggestion was only practical. There’s no reason to go down this rabbit hole.
Still, you can’t deny the growing curiosity gnawing at the back of your mind. You hadn’t expected his offer to affect you this way, but it does.
After days of avoiding him, you decide to invite him to dinner at your place. Maybe if you discussed this with him, the dreams and inappropriate thoughts would stop.
The moment he walks through your door, everything falls apart. You become hyper-aware of his every move. You catch yourself stealing glances when you think he isn’t looking, and you flinch whenever he gets too close.
Finally, he’s had enough.
“Okay,” he says firmly. “What’s with you? Why are you being weird?”
“I’m not being weird,” you lie, your heart racing. You reach for your drink and take a hefty gulp.
“Have I said or done something? You’ve flaked on me the last couple of times I asked you to go out, you’ve left me on ‘read’ more than you’ve responded...”
You felt guilty for avoiding him, but you needed that space to sort out your thoughts. Though you wanted to have this conversation, you couldn’t find the right moment to broach the topic.
“Then you invite me over, barely talk—” he continues to rant.
“It’s... it’s really more of a me-problem,” you stammer.
“Just talk to me! I can take it.” He throws his hands up in frustration.
You inwardly groan, before finally coming clean. “Remember the last time we were at your studio? I was whining about...something.”
He squinted for a bit, then you could see the recognition slowly dawning in his eyes before lowering his voice. “You mean, how you take a long time to reach an orgasm?”
You shut your eyes, mortified when he articulates it. “Yes…”
“What about it?”
“It’s not exactly about that, but it’s more about what you said after. You know—your offer to help?”
His face visibly relaxes, prompting you to continue. “Okay.”
Your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest, but you push through. “Did you mean it, or were you just messing with me?”
He stares at you for a moment before shaking his head, the corner of his lips quirking up. “The offer still stands, if you want it.”
You sit there chewing the inside of your cheek, feeling torn. Your brain tells you to be careful—fucking your best friend could make things weird. But your body has other ideas. The warmth pooling between your legs makes it harder to think straight.
“Are you considering it?” His voice is gentle, giving you space to choose.
You deflect, buying time to sort through your tumbling thoughts. “I’m curious... have you thought about this before? About us?”
“The idea has crossed my mind from time to time.”
His candor sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Oh,” is all you can manage to say.
“What about you? Have you thought about us...doing things?”
You draw in a shaky breath, forcing yourself to be equally honest. “I never thought of us that way before you mentioned it. But now...” you trail off, unable to verbalize how his suggestion has shifted something between you.
He inches closer, but maintains enough distance to keep you comfortable. His expression grows serious, earnest. “Listen, I would never pressure you into doing anything you don’t want to. You’re one of my best friends, and that matters more to me than anything else. If I’m out of line, just say the word and we won’t talk about it ever again.” The sincerity in his voice, the genuine concern in his eyes makes your heart ache. You’ve always known him to be considerate of your feelings.
“You weren’t out of line.” Hearing you say this was a huge relief to him. “But you can’t really un-ring that bell,” you add wryly.
You also couldn’t get past an earlier comment he made. “So…you’ve thought about us before?”
He takes a moment before answering. “Yeah. I mean, you’re beautiful. Who wouldn’t want you?”
Your cheeks flush at his compliment.
Your best friend has always had this effortless way about him—you’ve seen firsthand how easily he charms people during your nights out together.
Your resolve crumbles, and honestly, you’re tired of fighting it. ���How are you so chill about all this?”
He laughs. “It’s sex, not rocket science.”
You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Things won’t get weird afterward, will they?”
“Afterward? So...you’re saying you want to have sex? With me?” His eyebrows raise slightly.
You already knew the answer to that question the moment you asked him to come over. “I guess I do,” you say softly with a nervous smile, “for science?”
His sexy, throaty laugh echoes through the room.
********
You sit nervously on your couch facing each other. Since this is completely new territory for both of you, you know you need to take things slow and make sure you’re both comfortable. Gathering up the courage to agree to this experiment is the easy part, but actually getting into it?
“Just to be clear—this is a one-time thing, right?”
“Of course,” he confirms. “This is purely for educational purposes. And your pleasure.”
You scrunch your nose in protest. “That doesn’t seem like a fair exchange.” The idea of him seeing this as one-sided doesn’t sit right with you. “Shouldn’t this be mutually beneficial?”
“I never said I had to get something out of this. You want to experience an orgasm from foreplay alone, without mechanical assistance, right?”
You nod.
“Okay. So, let me focus on making that happen for you. You don’t need to think about anything else.”
You didn’t want to be selfish, but his offer was difficult to refuse.
“This is about you, not me,” he insists. His decision is firm and he wasn’t budging.
“Okay,” you relent. Fidgeting nervously with the hem of your shirt, you take in a deep breath and release it before muttering, “How should we do this...”
When Jihoon doesn’t immediately offer any suggestions, you think of the most natural way to start.
“Maybe we could start with kissing?”
“Right, good idea.” His voice wavers slightly, betraying that he’s just as nervous as you are despite his attempts to stay composed. Oddly, this puts you at ease—knowing you’re both on the same page, figuring this out as you go.
You both move in closer together, and time seems to slow as he leans in. Your eyes flutter shut, then his lips meet yours. They’re exactly as you’d imagined—soft, warm, and unexpectedly gentle. The kiss starts tentatively, but as your lips find their rhythm, everything feels natural.
When you break apart for a moment, you can’t help but smile. “You’re a good kisser.” You barely finish the sentence before being drawn back to his lips.
“You’re not so bad yourself,” he hums, and you can feel his smile against your lips as you both laugh, the sounds melting into your kisses.
Your kisses grow more intense, your mouth sucking on his top lip while his tongue traces delicately along yours, building a warmth that spreads through your entire body. You fist at his shirt, bunching the fabric between your knuckles, while his hand cradles your neck, his thumb gently stroking along your pulse point.
Gradually, his kisses move from your lips, following a path along the curve of your jawline, down to the slope of your neck. You can’t help but giggle at the sensation.
He instantly pulls back, a worried look on his face. “Sorry, are you not into that?”
“No, no—I mean—Yes, I am into it. I’m just a little bit ticklish there, that’s all,” you explain.
“Oh... okay. Do you want to keep going?”
You nod, and as he leans in for another kiss but pauses when you place a hand on his chest. “You know, I didn’t think I’d enjoy this because we’ve been friends for so long, but I have to admit that I like it.”
“Yeah?” A smirk plays across his lips. “Tell me what else you like.” He nips at your jawline. “Or show me.”
Desire spreads through you like wildfire. This was the point of no return. You take his hands and guide them under your shirt until they cup your breasts.
“What do you want me to do?” He murmurs through your lips.
“Play with them.”
His lips capture yours again as he squeezes your breast gently.
He eases you down onto the couch, his lips trailing from yours down your neck to your sternum. When he lifts your shirt to your chest, you feel constrained and pull it off completely, tossing it aside. He follows your lead, removing his own shirt.
His skilled fingers unhook your bra and takes a nipple into his mouth while his thumb teases the other, drawing a sharp breath from you.
You run your fingers through his hair as his kisses trace down your stomach, making your back arch at the sensation against your skin.
His hands glide down your sides until they reach your jeans, where he carefully undoes the button. You hook your fingers into your waistband and start pushing your bottoms down. He helps slide them off, his touch remaining gentle but with a hint of urgency as he pulls the fabric from your legs. As the last piece of clothing falls away, the cool air against your newly exposed skin makes you shiver.
One of his hands pushed between your legs, making them fall open shamelessly. His other hand continued to massage your breasts, making them unbearably sensitive. You can’t believe how slick you’d gotten in a short span of time. To think he hadn’t done much to you yet, apart from kissing you and squeezing your tits.
His gaze traveled down your body, lingering where his fingertips teased your sensitive folds. His feather-light touches made your inner walls clench with need. This only heightened your arousal, making you squirm beneath him, silently begging for more.
He slid one finger carefully into you. Your eyes closed against the unbearable vulnerability of being spread out naked and fingered by your friend, kneeling on the floor beside you. “Don’t think…just feel.” You keened as Jihoon pulled out and thrust gently back into you with two fingers. You couldn’t hold back a moan.
It’s probably been a few minutes now, you’re not sure as you’ve completely lost track of time. You blink furiously in a mild panic and stare down at him, still leisurely finger-fucking you. What he was doing felt so good, but you weren’t even halfway to your peak yet. By this point, other partners would be coming up for air, wanting you to return the favor or just ready to stick their cock in to get their fill.
“Relax...” he cooed, pressing a kiss against your inner thigh. Each deliberate dip and languid curl of his skilled fingers inside you made you wetter, gradually coaxing your muscles to yield. “It’s not a race,” he reassured you softly, his voice thick with desire. “I’ll keep going until you come.”
His words of encouragement sent waves of arousal coursing through you, making your breath catch in your throat.
“Kiss me,” you choked out desperately, needing to feel his lips against yours. Without hesitation, he obliged, sealing his mouth over yours in a deep kiss that made you dizzy.
Your fingers clutched desperately at the edges of your cushions, knuckles turning white from your grip as you felt that familiar sensation between your legs. “Right there. Don’t stop,” you gasped between heavy breaths, your hips bucking against his steadily thrusting fingers. The pleasure was building to an unbearable level, making you feel like you might shatter to pieces if he didn’t push you over the edge soon.
He continued to whisper the filthiest things—words you’d never heard him say to you. They revealed previously unspoken fantasies that ignited your body and overwhelmed your senses. A fleeting thought crossed your mind, wondering if this was his usual bedroom talk. But that thought slipped away as his words and actions consumed you completely. Before you realized it, you were peaking.
“I want to see what you look like when you come,” he purred. “Do you look as pretty as you do right now?” Everything tightened in your core while he kept up his ministrations in a steady, unhurried rhythm.
“Oh fuck, I’m coming…”
“Don’t hold back. Let me hear you,” he urged.
You let out a strangled cry, your mind far beyond the depths of euphoria to care about being quiet or demure about this. He was mesmerized, unable to look away at the sheer pleasure that washed over you. Before you could even process what just happened, he’d already hooked your leg over the back of the couch and covered your cleft with his mouth.
He stroked your clit with his tongue, fluttering over it, building your hunger back up again. He teased your slick folds, taunting you with the promise of another orgasm—something you thought impossible to achieve so soon, yet your body responded eagerly. When his fingers pushed inside you at the same time, you had to bite your lip to stifle a scream.
You came again, your thighs trembling, tender muscles pulsing around his touch. His growl vibrated through you. You didn’t have the strength to push him away when he returned to your clit and sucked softly…tirelessly…but now you wanted more. You needed to feel him.
You manage to sit up and squeeze his shoulder to get his attention. He peers up at you from between your thighs.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Already?” He smiles, teasing you with painfully slow strokes of his fingers. “Pretty sure I can get another one out of you,” he says cockily.
“Lee Jihoon—I. Am asking you. To fuck. Me,” you punctuated. “Will you do it or not?”
He sits up, turning sheepish all of a sudden. “I, uhm…didn’t expect us to be doing this, so I didn’t bring any condoms.”
It’s not like he was some random guy. Although you appreciated his caution, you just wanted him inside you. “I trust you,” you tell him before pressing a kiss to him.
After he settles on the couch, you shift unsteadily to straddle his hips, pressing your bodies together. Reaching between you, you fumble with his jeans until he helps, lifting his hips in a fluid motion to pull them down just enough to free himself. Bracing yourself, you let him guide you as you slowly sink down onto him. Your lips part with an involuntary sigh that turns into a soft moan as he fills you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way.
When you begin to roll your hips, the friction sends sparks of pleasure through your core.
“Fuck, your pussy feels good,” he breathes out roughly, his fingers digging into your hips before worry suddenly crosses his face. His cheeks flush as he stammers, “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
You giggle at his compliment, causing your muscles to clamp around his length. “I’m not mad at it,” you reassure him. “You make me feel really good, too.”
“Yeah?” His brow quirks. “You like when I fuck you?”
“Yes,” you moan, dipping your head to his lips in another kiss as you find your rhythm together.
His hands roam your back, pulling you closer as you rock against him with increasing urgency. Before this, you’ve resigned yourself to never experiencing an orgasm from penetrative sex, and yet here was another brewing and there was nothing you could do but let it happen.
You gasp as his hand makes sudden contact with your ass, the unexpected sting making you freeze in place. You stare at him dumbfounded.
“What are you going to do about it?” he challenges. Before you can answer, his hand comes down again with another firm smack that rings through the room. “What?” The sound of provocation in his voice makes your pulse quicken.
You hover over him, eyes narrowing as you lean closer. Through gritted teeth, your voice emerges as a heated whisper. “Harder.”
“I thought so.” He smiles slyly before your lips crash in a fierce kiss that leaves you both breathless.
With a firm grip, he holds your hips still as he thrusts into you with deliberate, measured strokes. You clutch at him, the rhythmic sounds of skin slapping against skin filling the room. Jihoon buries his face between your breasts, his rough groans reverberating against your flesh.
You whine helplessly, overwhelmed by the building pressure as the familiar coil of tension in your belly winds impossibly tight. Your thighs burn as you teeter on the edge of release.
“Yes...d-don’t...stop...hm...so close,” you pant.
He slows his movements to an agonizing pace, drawing out each thrust to drive you insane. He pulls out completely before sinking back into you with one deep thrust that makes you see stars. Your jaw drops, unintelligible sounds tumbling out your mouth as you come hard.
You hold onto him for dear life, your nails leaving a trail of crescent marks on his skin as he picks up the pace once again, his own rhythm becoming more erratic as he chases his own orgasm. A deep groan rumbles from his chest as your walls pulse and clench around him.
“I’m close,” he warns, his usually calm and collected face now twisted with agonizing need.
“Don’t pull out,” you manage to choke out between strained, ragged breaths.
“You…s-sure…?”
You nod eagerly. With your permission, he thrusts deeper and harder, making your neck loll in ecstasy. He draws you back into a rough, hungry kiss that muffles your shared moans as he reaches the end of his rope, his hips jerking against yours while he spurts inside.
Pressing your sweat-slicked forehead against his, you wait for your heart rate to return to normal. There’s no doubt in your mind—no previous partner could compare to Jihoon.
“Oh my fucking god,” you sigh. “We’ve been missing out all this time.”
He laughs softly, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “It was worth the wait though!”
********
After a quick shower and a necessary trip to the pharmacy down the block, you and Jihoon return to your apartment with bags of late-night snacks. All that sexual activity had certainly worked up an appetite, and you found yourself craving something sweet. An ice cream waffle cone hit the spot for you.
“Are you okay?”
You smile, endeared at his worrying. “You know, you’ve asked me that same question multiple times now, and I’ll keep giving you the same answer—I’m fine. Great, actually!”
“I know, I know,” he responds sheepishly. “I just hope this doesn’t make things awkward between us.”
“Trust me, I don’t feel awkward about any of this at all,” you respond with complete sincerity before facing him to find out if he felt the same way you did. “Do you?”
He shakes his head, tilting the bag of Skittles into his mouth. “Nope,” he answers between chews. “To be honest, I thought that was fucking mind-blowing!”
You inhale sharply at his candid comment, nodding in agreement. “Same. Absolutely no complaints from me!”
He gets up from the couch, takes out a small box from the shopping bag to set it aside, and stuffs your discarded candy wrappers into it before heading to the kitchen to throw them away.
When he returns from the kitchen, your eyes linger on him. “Thanks, Jihoonie,” you whisper. “For…everything.”
“You’re welcome,” he replies with a wink before sinking back into the couch beside you.
This turned out to be the complete opposite of your initial fears. Not only did this one-off experiment exceed all your expectations, but it seems your friendship remained the same. Though you never would have guessed that your best friend would end up giving you the best orgasms of your life.
As you continue to enjoy your treat, you notice Jihoon’s eyes fixed on your tongue as it swirls around the chocolate ice cream. His dark eyes watching you with the same intensity as when you came undone with his touch earlier.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
You arched an eyebrow at him. “Quit staring at me like that,” you cautioned, though your tone suggested otherwise.
“Then don’t ever eat an ice cream cone in front of me,” he responds with a chuckle as he subtly adjusts himself beneath his pants.
You bite your lip, feeling a warmth between your legs again. “You know...” you clear your throat, reaching for the box of condoms he left on the coffee table, “I wonder if these things really live up to the ‘raw’ feel.”
He clicks his teeth dismissively before responding. “I think it’s false advertising.”
“You think so?”
He takes the box from you, examining the label. “I mean, we do have a perfect point of comparison,” he reasons, a smile ghosting his lips. “Should we find out?”
You stare at each other for a moment before breaking into grins and exclaiming in unison, “For science!”
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#jihoon x reader#jihoon fanfic#jihoon smut#woozi smut#seventeen x reader#seventeen fic#seventeen fanfiction#lee jihoon#svt imagines#svt x reader#svt fanfic#seventeen smut
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An eventful reunion
Leon kennedy X afab!fem!reader
Genre: smut, fluff
To feel, to hold you was a blessing after being kept away from you for so long. The countless days and nights Leon had dreamt of holding you. Now that he was free from whatever freak of nature monsters were after him, he could indulge. Indulge in you, his love.
"oh fuck angel- I've missed this"
He grunted, face hidden in the crook of your neck as he pushed in and out of you at a slow, gentle pace. He had laced your fingers together and crushed you with his body weight. He wanted, no he needed to be as close to you as possible.
The soft moans you fed into his ear made his head spin and cock twitch inside of you. It almost didn't feel real, yet it was. Your body was so soft against his, untouched by the harsh world around, not tainted like his. His rough, calloused skin from all the years of fighting and pain.
But right now, he was free from that. He was free to feel the soft curves of your waist, the swell of your chest, the silky locks of hair on your head. He had it all, he never wanted to let it go. He couldn't.
Your voice, your beautiful, soft voice brought him back to the real world he was in, calling out to him like a saviour, a lifeline. You were the one to bring him clarity, sense. Without you, the world didn't make sense, like you were the missing puzzle piece in his life.
"Leon, baby, missed this too, missed you. Wanted nothing more than to see your face"
Leon felt his heart swell and his chest puff out, he needed you like he needed air. You were his everything. His lips connected with yours once more, no toungue, no teeth smashing together, no. Just sweet and gentle, slotting together like they were made for eachother.
From your angle, he looked so beautiful. The moonlight shone through his golden locks, those ocean eyes gazing into yours with such a lovesick, sweet gaze. He looked ethereal, like a carefully sculpted statue. It made you want to come on the spot right there and then
You gasp softly as one of his hand leaves yours to rub a rough thumb on your twitching clit. Earning and whimper from you, paired with clamping down on him, causing a groan to erupt from his throat. His adams apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed thickly at the ethereal sight beneath him.
His hips increased in speed all that slightly, both chasing his and your orgasm. You moaned into the kiss, heat pooling in your stomach and beginning to push you onto the edge. Your grip tightening on his hands.
Your legs wrapped around his waist and your head tipped back. Giving him the chance to plaster even more soft, slow kisses which had your head reeling. It was so soft, so intimate. This kind of sex has you so pliant and melty beneath him, it was definitely your favourite part of welcoming him back home.
"come on honey, give it to me, you can do it"
Your soft ah ah ah's begin to increase in volume and frequency as your eyes roll back and your form trembles and twitches beneath him. Leon could feel himself getting close, he was trying to hold himself to get the opportunity to come at the same time as you.
"mhh- Leon, I love you !" You squeal as you smush your lips to his desperately as you tipped over the edge, your release coating him and the sheets. You went limp, laying there and taking the rest of his short, gentle thrusts.
Leon groaned, letting himself go shortly after you, warm come painting your slick walls. You both bask in the afterglow, bundled in Leon's strong, bulky arms. He rested his forehead against yours, breathing a sigh of content with you at the now proper reunion you two had. Beginning to fade out of consciousness, Leon murmurs his reply, his voice sweet like honey.
"I love you always, my angel"
#leon x reader#leon kennedy x reader#leon kennedy imagine#leon kennedy smut#leon s kennedy#leon kennedy x you#resident evil 4#resident evil 6#resident evil fanfiction#resident evil smut#resident evil x reader#resident evil#harpy speaks#smut
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a request if I may… matty getting mad talking to someone on the phone and girlie is just watching him like😵💫😵💫 and he takes his frustration out on her😁
content warning: 18+ mdni, smut, p in v, dirty talk, spanking,
this has been going on for a while now: matty walking back and forth through the room and getting more frustrated by the phone call.
“fucking christ,” matty says gritting his teeth, “what’s your fucking damage?”
you’re sitting at the edge of the bed, done with your nightly routine and only waiting for your pacing boyfriend now.
sleep is the last thing on your mind though.
twenty minutes torture. matty’s little rage act makes your thighs ache because you’ve been clenching them together the second he started to cuss and swear.
��that’s not what i’ve been saying bro, fucking listen.”
your eyes stay on the veins on his forearm when he’s running his hand through his hair, letting a groan slip out of his mouth.
you bite your lip watching him, feeling your panties dampen as his conversation continues.
“you can fuck off with that.”
you inhale sharply and matty hears. he thinks you’re annoyed because you wanted to go to sleep right before his phone rang.
he walks towards you and cups your cheek as he mouths a ‘sorry’.
“actually, i’ve got better things to do, mate. calm down, roll yourself a spliff and chill out, will do you good, i reckon.”
matty is still standing in front of you, so close to touch, to do anything you want to do to him. your hands sneak around his body to his back over his soft shirt.
“nah, have a nice one, i will not fucking continue this conversation. jesus, yeah, you too.”
matty slides his phone into his back pocket, running a hand through his already disheveled hair. the tension in his jaw doesn’t ease even as he exhales sharply, muttering something about “fucking tosser.”
“i’ve been a right twat tonight,” he says, his voice softer now, almost contrite. the furrow in his brow lingers, though, like he’s still half-lost in whatever argument just happened over the phone. “sorry it took so long.”
you swallow hard, suddenly hyperaware of how close he is. the space between you is barely there, his knees brushing yours where you’re perched on the edge of the bed. his t-shirt clings to him in all the right ways, the faint sheen of sweat on his skin catching the light, and you can’t help but let your eyes wander.
you watch him for a moment, taking in the way his shoulders are still tight, his hands shoved into his pockets. he’s not looking at you directly, not yet, but the way his chest rises and falls in short bursts tells you he’s still got all that anger simmering under the surface.
“it’s alright,” you say softly, shaking your head. “but do you want to talk about it?”
his lips press into a thin line, and he tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling for a moment like he’s hoping it’ll swallow him whole. “no,” he says finally, voice flat. “you wanted to go to bed, yeah? you must be knackered now.”
you frown, your head tilting. “i’m not, though.”
he glances down at you then, his brow furrowing like he doesn’t quite believe you. “you should be,” he mutters.
you shake your head again, slower this time. “you should talk about it,” you murmur, reaching out to rest your hands on his forearms. your fingers skim over his skin, and his muscles twitch beneath your touch. “it’ll help. get it out of your head, and then maybe you won’t feel so mad.”
he snorts, shaking his head, his eyes darting away from yours. “what’s the point? won’t change anything. and, anyway, you shouldn’t have to deal with me when i’m like this.”
“i don’t mind,” you say, your voice gentle. your thumbs rub small circles against his arms, coaxing him to relax even just a little. “besides, it’s better than letting it fester. you’ll just drive yourself mental.”
he doesn’t respond right away, his gaze dropping to where your hands rest on him. his jaw tightens again, like he’s still debating it, still trying to work through it on his own. but you can feel the way his tension hasn’t eased, the way he’s holding himself so rigid, and you slide your hands up slowly, tracing over his chest now.
“or,” you say, your voice quieter, almost testing, “you could find another way to let it out.”
his eyes snap to yours at that, narrowing slightly. “what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks, his tone sharp, defensive, like he’s daring you to say it.
your fingers spread out against his chest, and you can feel the rapid beat of his heart under your palm. “it means,” you say slowly, your gaze not wavering from his, “you could do something to relieve that anger.”
his brow lifts slightly, and for a second, he just stares at you, his expression unreadable. and then he scoffs, shaking his head like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “are you serious?”
“what?” you ask softly, your voice even, steady.
“were you—” he starts, breaking off with a disbelieving laugh before leaning in closer, his eyes narrowing. “were you getting off on that? me losing my shit?”
your face flushes hot, but you don’t pull your hands away. instead, your fingers curl into his shirt, gripping it lightly as you hold his gaze.
“not like that,” you say quickly, though your voice wavers just enough to make him raise an eyebrow.
“not like that,” he repeats, his tone skeptical. his hands come down to rest on your thighs, his grip firm but not harsh, and he leans in closer, his eyes searching yours. “go on, then. explain it to me.”
you swallow hard, your pulse quickening as his thumb brushes over your cheek. “matty, don’t—”
“don’t what?” he cuts you off. “don’t call you out on it? don’t notice the way you’ve been watching me like you want to devour me. i saw, love. the way you clenched your thighs together.”
you open your mouth to retort, but the words die on your tongue when his lips brush against your neck, his stubble scraping deliciously against your skin. his hands slide up your thighs, his fingers curling against the fabric of your sleep shorts.
“that’s dirty. thought you’re being a nice girl and you want to talk,” he scoffs, “instead you just want to be fucked.”
your eyes roll to the back of your head as he continues kissing your neck and his hands wandering to your upper thighs.
“fuck, you’re warm,” he murmurs, his voice rough in your ear. “and so bloody worked up, is this what my little tantrum does to you?”
you let out a soft whimper, your hands gripping his shirt to ground yourself. “matty…”
“say it,” he demands, pulling back just enough to look at you. his pupils are blown, and his chest rises and falls heavily. “say you like it when I’m like this.”
you hesitate for a moment, but the way his hands tighten on your thighs has you caving. “i like it,” you admit in a shaky whisper. “i like it when you’re… like this.”
“knew it,” he mutters before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.
the kiss is all-consuming, a perfect mix of frustration and desire. his hands wander freely now, sliding under your shirt to grip your waist. you gasp against his mouth when his teeth graze your bottom lip, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours.
when he pulls back he shakes his head, “you want me to be rough?”
“yes,” you breathe out as fast as possible.
“christ. alright. lay down, get on the bed.”
you nod and scoot backwards, your eyes fixated on matty, who’s already pulling his shirt over his head.
he looks divine. black jeans with a belt and no shirt, his tattoos on full display for you drives you insane. you squirm a bit, waiting for his next move.
he’s taking your feet into his hand, rubbing your skin softly.
“darling, i need you to be absolutely sure and if you don’t fuck with anything i do, you need to tell me.”
“i swear, matty,” you say, offering him a warm smile.
“perfect.”
you watch his face as he carefully and slowly grabs at the fabric of your sleeping shorts, pulling them all the way down.
“gonna let me do what i want to you then?”
“yes.”
his hands find your hips, he's sliding down the bed, just enough so his head is level with your middle, he dips his head down and presses his lips to the soft flesh, his teeth sink into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine, you involuntarily let out a soft moan.
he grips your hips more firmly, almost like you'll disappear before him if he doesn't, he moves his lips to your other hip and nips at your skin, "my fucking gorgeous girl, absolutely filthy for me," he says lowly, his breath hot against your skinz
you whimper softly as both of your hands find the nape of his neck. his mouth moves to the soft swell of your tummy and he nips at the supple skin right above your belly button.
he pulls away and peers up at you, eyes dark and full of lust, his mouth hovers over yours, "you drive me mental, you know that, love?" he whispers fervently against your lips, his fingers squeezing the meat of your thighs.
“i'm pretty crazy about you too, matty," you whisper, his cheeks flush pink at your words, still so bashful. he kisses the heel of your palm before patting the side of your thigh, "turn around for me darling, go on, all fours, need to see all of you," he smirks, his eyes full of intensity as they drag down your body.
you do as he asks and move to the middle of the bed, flipping onto your knees and walking your hands out in front of you, arching your back slightly and hiking your up ass in front of him, he moans at the sight.
"just like that," he praises softly behind you and your pussy throbs, a familiar sticky heat pools in your panties at his words. you playtully take a glance back at him, his eyes dark and half-lidded as he sits up and moves to his knees behind you, his hands run up the backs of your thighs all the way up until they meet the globe of your ass.
"look at you, so fuckin' perfect," he murmurs, oggling the curve of your ass as his index finger sneaks under the lace trim of your panties, taking the material between his forefinger and his thumb and lightly skimming his fingers down the lace, "jesus.”
matty scoffs, “s’kind of pathetic. drenching your little panties because i’m angry.”
his fingers roam down to your covered slit and you let out a soft gasp, which only spurs him on, he runs his fingers along the wet spot on your panties, smirking when he feels the wetness staining your panties, the tips of his fingers dip below your clothed slit,
"that’s my girl though, right? always so fuckin' wet for me.”
it should embarrass you, how easy you are for him but it doesn't because it's matty and knowing how much he revels in this, in you makes that small pinch of embarrassment fade away instantly...every single time.
you risk a look at him over your shoulder as he pulls his finger back out and in one swift movement he puts his finger between his lips, quickly sucking your arousal off his finger, like it's a mindless, habitual thing for him.
his hands reach for the waistband sitting on your hips, pulling the lacy fabric down, marveling at the dark fabric against your skin as he slowly drags the material down your thighs, his eyes catch the wetness soaking the lace while he pulls them down and he moans shamelessly.
“such a pretty cunt, darling.”
your eyes widen while you watch him bunch up the material and shove the lace in his back pocket and then his hand lands an affectionate smack to your ass, "eyes forward, i won’t say it again."
you tear your eyes away as he brings a firm hand to the small of your back, pressing you down and deepening the arch to his liking, you instinctively drop to your forearms- so pliant and needy for him-he brings his mouth down and sinks his teeth into the lush of your ass in approval.
“fucking christ,” he groans behind you, “you’re so easy. gonna let me do what i want to you just because you’re needy, pathetic.”
his hands grab your inner thighs, spreading your legs, now he has full sight of your glistening core, two thick fingers stroke through your folds.
"you’re a mess, darling, look at that- you’re dripping down your legs.”
his words make your cunt throb, you can't help the whine you let out, "matty, please."
matty laughs, “you’re a fucking beg. what do you want?”
"i need you, please do anything, please," you mewl, not caring how pathetic you sound.
but still, not enough for matty. a loud wet smack fills the room as he lays a firm slap to your cunt, your body flinches forward, the edges of your vision blurs and your aching, swollen cunt tingles and clenches at the harsh, yet welcomed contact.
he tuts, "that’s it? you need to try better than that, love. beg for it.”
"matty please, i want your cock. i want it," you whine and writhe beneath his firm palm.
"see? s’all i’ve wanted to hear," he cooes, his slick-coated fingers now soothing your folds. “wouldn’t be fun though if we already skipped to the best part, would it?”
he shifts behind you, sliding down off the bed, kneeling on the floor, he pulls you back towards the edge of the bed by your thighs. he tilts his head up just enough to dig his teeth into the meat of your upper thigh, just below the curve of your ass cheek and soothes the sting with a wet kiss.
you shiver, you're aching for him and his mouth is everywhere except for where you need him to be.
“stop writhing around like a needy slut,” he spits out, “you don’t want me to stop immediately, right?”
“no, no, sorry.” you plead, closing your eyes.
matty’s hands come up to grab the meat of your ass, spreading you open and gently pushing you forward for better access, he brings his mouth to hungrily kiss your inner thighs, tasting the sweet, sticky slick coating your skin and a pitiful moan slips from your lips.
“mhm, perfect.”
matty seems to have heard it and that's all it takes for his lips to make contact with your pussy, your breath hitches in your throat as he flattens his tongue and licks a long, slow swipe through your slicked folds, the first one always drawn out and meticulous and just for him.
“oh f-fuck.” you moan.
a pressure already begins to pull taut low in your belly, you're squirming in his grasp but his hands move to firmly grip your outer thighs, keeping you open for him and pressed flush against his eager mouth. he fucking laves at you, devouring and savouring you like he'd never get the chance again.
“such a perfect one, yeah. my favorite taste.”
the vibrations from occasional muffled moans and groans against your pussy make you chant his name over and over like a prayer, even though he's the one on his knees.
“jesus matty," you moan out, your eyes roll back into your head as the coil inside your belly wounds up so tight every muscle in your body tenses. you start grinding your hips back into his face, he groans in response and loosens his grip on your legs, letting you take what you need from him.
it takes a moment to come down from your high, matty not being a help at all with the same pace he has on your clit.
he flattens his tongue against your clit before he closes his lips around it, suckling it into his mouth and moaning around it, the vibrations from his mouth makes the coil in your belly snap, and you cry out, using the sheets beneath you to stifle the noises slipping through your lips.
“fucking god,” you moan, “matty- can’t.”
matty hums a “you can,” and immediately latches on again.
the tip of his tongue works small, tight circles on your clit around and around, only this time with more pressure than before and within minutes or seconds-you don't really know at this point-you feel the pressure building in your belly and it's growing stronger by every lick and suck from his mouth. his tongue flicks over your clit before he licks it into his mouth once more, closing his lips tightly, he gives it one last tight circle of his tongue and suckle to your clit and you break, your second orgasm crashes over you.
“matty,” you moan over and over again, your brain completely empty with thoughts.
a choked moan escapes you, your legs quiver as they threaten to close while your hands fist the sheets beside your head, the grip he has on your thighs holds you open for him while you come all over his mouth and he laps you up, savoring, slurping, and swallowing down everything you give him.
“fucks sake,” he groans, “perfect cunt.”
milliseconds pass and he shifts behind you, lost in the haze of your orgasm, you can faintly hear ruffling as he stands up. he leans forward, kneading your ass in his palms before bending down to lay another bite on your other cheek, this time with more fervor, leaving a mark, your skin tingles.
matty’s hand is on him, stroking himself slowly, while his other hand is touching your body.
“just a little toy for me, aren’t you, darling?” he asks, not expecting an answer, “gonna let me fuck you?”
matty positions himself right against your ass and places his hands on your hips again and squeezes, “talk to me.”
"not like this,” you whine, not daring to look back, “wanna see you.”
“aww,” matty pouts, “you’ve got too many wishes, you know?”
nevertheless he grips your thighs and turns you around so you’re on your back. you’re eyes are staring at him but it seems like you’re not there, your brain feels hazy.
“you’re alright, love,” matty says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.
you can only whine and grip the nape of his neck to receive a proper kiss.
“needy girl,” he murmurs, leaning down to give you a kiss, licking over your bottom lip before tugging it between his teeth.
your sounds are swallowed by his mouth as he keeps kissing you, grinding himself against your thigh.
“can-please,” you whine, stretching your arm out to find his cock, which is already leaking with pre cum.
matty lets out a quiet groan, you can't help but smile at this as you start to rub him between your legs, grabbing his attention back onto the task at hand.
“didn’t say you could touch me, love,” he grits out, “s’like you can’t get enough.”
“i can’t,” you smile, tugging at his hair, “can you please fuck me.”
you’re desperate. how could you not be with matty between your legs, right there.
matty slides inside of you roughly, not slow and steady, not giving you any time to adjust, he’s using you.
“fuck, this what you wanted?” he asks as his eyelids flutter closed.
he’s got one of your thighs in his grasp and he's pushing it up against your ribs as he begins a steady pace with his hips against yours. there’s strings of your slick attached to his upper thighs from your inner legs rubbing against him.
matty notices immediately, “fucking christ, you’re making such a mess, s’heavenly.”
“matty,” you moan, “you- s’perfect.”
“yeah?”
matty brings his right hand back down to continue flicking your clit back and forth with his wet fingers.
you bite down on his shoulder. your propped up foot thuds softly against his back as the other one grips onto the sheets.
"feel nice?" matty asks into your hair as you bite down onto him, “fucking enjoy yourself?”
“feel so perfect," you whine against him. "jesus, so good,” you slur.
his weight is pushing you down so you can't wiggle away from any of the stimulation he's giving you. it accumulates quickly and, just laying there and taking it, you don't get enough time to warn him you're close.
you’re clenching around him uncontrollably, rolling your eyes back and clawing your nails into his shoulder blades.
“let me have it, come on,” he groans, rutting into you as deep as before, “come for me.”
he fucks you harder, his pace frantic. "such a perfect cunt, darling." he groans, dipping his head into your neck to nip at your skin. “my gorgeous girl."
"oh, god, matty..." you cry, your orgasm quickly approaching, unable to stop it no matter how much you want to prolong the feeling.
it doesn't take long before your orgasm crashes over you, pulsing through you in waves, back arching off the bed as you reach out for anything to ground yourself. hands finding the back of his head, pulling him into your chest.
“just like that, perfect, darling.”
he follows soon after, his cock pulsing inside you as he empties himself into you, collapsing on top of you, his chest heaving.
“fuck,” he exhales, moving one more slow time again to torture the both of you.
you’re overstimulated, your legs hurting so good there are tears prickling in your eyes. you brush your hands over matty’s shoulders and back, humming as you try to love on him.
“you still angry?” you ask, smiling to yourself.
matty groans when he lifts his head to look at you, stealing a quick kiss, “nah. unless you want me to be,” he jokes.
“give me a break,” you giggle.
“i love you, darling,” he murmurs, sliding out of you, hissing at the cold air.
you scrunch up your nose in pain, your ass, thighs and the skin between your legs hurting real good.
“i’ll draw you a bath, don’t worry, love.”
you enjoy this the most. matty being the sweet boy you’ve known forever, his only mission to take care of you.
#matty healy#matty healy smut#matty healy imagine#matty healy x you#matty healy x reader#matty healy fluff#matty healy blurb#matty healy oneshot#the 1975#ross macdonald#george daniel#adam hann#the 1975 fic
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YES WE WANT THE LONG ONE
bad game?
warnings: angst (tiny bit), smut, overstimulation, USC GAME MENTION
an: very sorry for bringing up this traumatic event🙏please forgive me. i've never wrote smut before so like that too. also i was gonna make it longer but y'all were BEGGING so here!
------------------------------------------------------
azzi is sitting in her bed cuddled up with her brand new book like the princess she is. the door of the apartment dorm slams
shut as an angry blonde walks through. paige had insisted on going for a drive after their loss to usc.
"paige!" azzi calls out from her bed as paige walks in sitting in azzis desk chair with a huff.
"fucking bullshit. shoulda won. played like shit the first half. the fuck is wrong with us, with me this year az." paige goes on and on her anger becoming more and more noticeable with each word. azzi puts her book down and stares her in the eye.
"paige you gotta stop. you're too hard on yourself." paige just groans and rolls her eyes at her girlfriends words.
"i don't need you to fucking take care of me." she grits through her teeth causing azzi to be taken aback by her sudden wrath.
"baby." she whispers softly causing paige's gaze to soften. "c'mere imma cheer you up mama." this causes the blonde to grin as she practically falls on azzis body peppering kisses all over her face and neck.
"m'sorry ma, i love when you take care of me." she whispers making azzi smile and let paige take control. it was usually azzi in control but in times like these, paige needed to go full pussy eater mode.
"s'okay." azzi whispers, and now that paige knows she's not mad, she's full
menace.
"good." a sly grin spreads across her face as her knee digs into azzis clothed core. she sucks in a shaky breath before pulling paige's shirt latching their lips together. the kiss was harsh but still sweet. teeth clashing and tongues fighting but still a soft edge because paige always had a soft spot for her precious princess. she moved her thigh against azzi before she hears a soft moan escape the younger girls lips causing her back to arch off the bed.
"i gotchu princess." paige smirks as she pulls azzis shorts down with her panties.
"fuck p." azzi whispers as paige's head dips down to her bellybutton piercing sucking the skin around it leaving small bite marks.
"so fuckin sexy." she mumbles before she drags her fingers against her folds. already soaking for her. her lips attack azzis neck as she's turned into a moaning mess as paige's two fingers slip into her curling right into the spot she loves. her thumb rubbing her clit in just the right way. paige wasn't planning on dragging this one out. she had other ideas.
"p-paige y- too fast- i- i cant hold it." azzi hiccups past her moans as she's already squeezing her legs around paige's hand which has a big cocky grin spreading across paige's face.
"so soon mama? you sure you can't wait." she gives her a small pout as she fucks into giving her no mercy. azzis body shakes as she desperately tries to wait for paige to let her come apart.
"s'okay baby i've gotchu. come on let go for me." paige doesn't even finish her sentence before azzis clenching around her and gushing on her fingers but of course paige isnt done yet. she laps at her glistening skin and presses her mouth to her sensitive swollen clit.
"p- cant." azzi mumbles. but she knows it's no use. when paige even thinks about eating pussy you cant get the thought outta her head.
"nah, gotta gimmie this one i know you can." she whispers into her causing azzi to shake. her tongue dips into her as azzi practically screams a tear dropping from her face and her hand in her mouth trying to stop her from screaming. paige pushes down on her lower stomach which makes azzis band snap without her even knowing and soon enough paige's mouth is dripping.
"shit baby. knew you still had it in you." paige hadn't seen her do that in quite some time. she climbs up azzis fucked out frame and kisses her temple.
"one more for me?" she asks her breath hot against azzis sweaty skin.
"you've gotta be kidding me." azzi groans still panting from the last two.
"c'mon that was so sexy az. just one more
please. know you can. please mama." paige's soft pleas do nothing but make azzi give in.
"be-" before she can finish her sentence paige's mouth is on her again. this time softer less urgent.
"imma be gentle baby. don't worry." she whispers as she slides two fingers into her still dripping folds.
"i gotchu. just wanna get you right." she whispers against her clip which makes azzi let out borderline phonographic sounds.
"be quiet for me m'kay." paige whispers. at this point she's completely soaked through her boxers but she doesn't even care tonight's about her princess. azzi tried to keep quiet but the small whimpers aren't helping. she's about to let out a loud scream when paige's fingers push deeper but she quickly latches her mouth onto azzis swallowing the loud sounds.
"paige-" azzi starts but paige knows. she always knows.
"you got it ma. come on let go." and with that paige leans down so azzi an let go, on her face once again. this time paige is grabbing azzis shorts and slipping them back on her limp body.
"clean your face you goof." azzi mumbles as paige leans down to kiss her still covered with azzis juices. but of course she can't resist her beautiful girlfriend and pecks her lips but paige's tongue dives into azzis mouth letting her taste herself. which slips a moan out of her. paige pushes off her bed and goes to clean up and when she comes back she sits at the edge of the bed turning on the xbox azzi had in her room just for paige and loaded up fortnite.
"paige you've gotta be fucking joking." azzis mouth drops as paige scrambles back to the headboard controller in hand.
"what's wrong mama. c'mere." she opens her arms and azzi curls into her chest. "cant just fuckin give your girlfriend mind blowing head then turn on the xbox." she groans but secretly loves just being able to cuddle into paige's chest as she plays her game.
"you love it." she grins. she wasn't wrong. azzi did love it. but most of all azzi loved paige.
#azzi fudd#paige bueckers#pazzi#uconn wbb#wbb#paige buckets#ineedpaigebuckets#paige x azzi#pazzi fics
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Santa Baby
Mason Mount x reader
You and Mason welcome your first daughter shortly before the holidays.
Word Count: 8400+
Requested: No
Warnings: Oral sex (male receiving), swearing, child birth (under 18 DNI)
A/N: This is an old draft I had for Mason and to be quite honest, I'm a bit nervous to post since it has been a while. I had every intention of getting this posted before Christmas, but it just didn't happen. Feedback always appreciated.
Mason had left for training early that morning, after you had reassured him several times that you were fine. You were sure the uneasy feelings you had were more related to Braxton Hicks contractions and the excitement of the upcoming holidays more than anything.
You were still three weeks from your due date with your and Mason's first baby and your midwife appointment a few days ago was uneventful and you were showing no signs of progressing towards labor at that time.
Christmas is next week and if you can just get through the last few things on your to do list you will be fine. However, the irregular pains you were feeling earlier in the morning have since become more regular and slightly more painful, enough so that you decided to give the midwife a call to ease your mind.
"How often?" she asks, trying not to sound overly concerned.
"Every seven minutes," you breathe.
"And getting stronger?" she follows up with another question.
"Yes, definitely getting stronger," you sway your hips standing at the kitchen counter, seeking any kind of relief you could get.
"Where's Mason?" she asks another question.
"Training, he should be home in a couple of hours," you wince slightly at the pain.
"Oh no," you gasp when your water breaks sending a cascade of fluid onto the floor.
"Y/N, can you still feel the baby moving ok?" she asks after you explained what happened.
"Mmhmm," you groan, "shit, that hurts a lot worse now."
"Y/N, you need to call Mason and get him home, I will meet you guys at that hospital. Congratulations mummy, it's baby day," you can hear the smile in her voice.
"Hi, Catherine," you grit your teeth through another contraction, "it's Y/N Mount, I can't get Mase on the phone, I'm sure he's still training, but can you track him down and have him call me, it's urgent."
"Yes, of course, is everything ok, dear?" she asks.
"Mmmhmmm, or it will be, I hope, just have him call me as soon as possible please," you beg before ending the call.
You do your best to clean up the all of the fluid out of the floor, changing clothes quickly and grabbing all of the things you had thankfully already packed the week before.
When Mason calls you back, you can tell he's out of breath and sounds like he's running still. "Hey baby, is everything ok?" he asks his voice full of concern.
"My water broke, Mase, I'm in labor," you groan as you hear him starting his car.
"I'll be there as fast as I can," he says nervously.
"Be careful, don't speed, I'm not going anywhere," you laugh softly, calming him a bit.
"Ok, I love you, see you soon," you hear the engine rev.
"I'm serious, Mason Mount, it won't do me any good if you don't ont get here in one piece," you say sternly.
"Yes ma'am," he chuckles.
"I love you, be safe," you sigh.
About ten minutes later you hear Mason clatter through the door, still wearing his training kit, boots and all.
"Hi baby," he smiles at you, coming over and wrapping you in a hug, gently rubbing your back when you groan as you have another contraction.
"They are about five minutes apart now," you breathe out.
"Go shower, quick, I don't want our baby meeting you when you smell like sweat and grass," you smile up at him.
A few minutes later he is rushing back down the stairs, freshly showered and changed. He grabs your things and puts them in the car and then helps you into the front seat where you lay a towel down trying not to ruin the interior.
He holds your hand and soothingly strokes over the back of it with his thumb as he makes the short drive to the hospital.
"Thank God, we picked somewhere close," you sigh as you pull into the car park.
He turns off the car and moves to open the door when you grab his hand, "Mase, wait, what if I can't do this, what if I can't get her here safely," you look at him, your eyes brimming with tears.
He leans his forehead against yours, "y/n, baby, you've done so well this whole entire time, you've been so strong, I know you can do this, everything is going to be fine."
He kisses you softly on the lips, "let's go meet our baby girl," he smiles at you when you nod.
Once you've settled into the delivery suite, your midwife comes into check you. "Already at 6cm, y/n, you're doing brilliant," she beams at you, "I would say this little one will be here in a couple of hours if you continue progressing this well."
Mason stays beside you, holding your hand, rubbing your back, and encouraging you every step of the way. He doesn't even wince when you hurl a few curse words his way for "getting you into this mess."
Once you're fully dilated and it's time to start pushing, the panic really sets in.
"Mase, I can't, I can't do this," you shake your head at him, tears slipping from your eyes.
"Baby," he says, brushing your hair out of your eyes and kissing you on the forehead, "you can do this, I know you can, I'm so proud of you, y/n, you've done so well, just a little while longer, yeah? She'll be here soon, I love you so much."
You nod and close your eyes, willing yourself to keep going, for him, for your baby girl that you can't wait to meet.
"I'm ready," you breathe out, squeezing his hand.
"That's my girl," he smiles proudly at you.
A short while later, cries fill the room as your baby girl enters the world and is placed on your chest.
Mason looks at you with tears running down his face as they ask him if he would like to cut the cord. He nervously takes the scissors and does the honors, pressing a kiss to your forehead.
"I'm so proud of you, you were amazing, look at her, she's perfect," he smiles at your newborn who is now quietly laying on your chest.
"I'm going to take her over here and clean her up and check her over," one of the nurses smiles at you as she removes her from your chest and places her under the warmer.
"I love you so much, y/n, thank you," he smiles at you before kissing you softly.
He stays by your side but keeps glancing over to where the nurses are looking your daughter over.
"Mase," you get his attention, "you can go over there," you smile at him.
"You sure?" he asks but his eyes keep wandering over to his baby.
"Yes, Mase, I'm sure, go see her," you nod at him kissing the back of his hand.
"I'll be right here if you need me," he says kissing you on the forehead again.
"Unless you've miraculously learned to sew, I think I'll be ok with the midwife," you chuckle.
He looks at you a bit puzzled.
"Stitches, Mason, she's putting in stitches," you giggle when you see his eyes widen once he realizes.
"Oh," he shakes his head at himself, "do a good job," he smiles at the midwife, "I mean, take good care of her."
The midwife chuckles at him as he moves around the end of the bed.
"I am so sorry," he says when he glances to where she's working, never even looking up to your face.
You and the midwife shake your heads at one another as he makes his way over to his baby girl.
"Dad, would you like to put her on her first nappy?" the nurse smiles at him.
"Yeah, sure" he says nervously.
"Have you done this before?" she asks handing him the diaper.
"Once or twice, but never when they're this new," he looks down at his newborn baby girl, gently starting to put the diaper on her.
"You're not going to break her I promise," the nurse chuckles at him.
He finishes up and she swaddles her in a blanket and hands her to him. "There you go dad, all yours," she smiles at him as tears well in his eyes.
"You're all mine," he grins, "you've got the best mummy in the world little girl, she's so brave and so strong and I hope you grow up to be just like her," he says as tears stream down his face.
You take a couple of pictures of them with your phone before getting his attention. "Mase," you smile at him when he looks up at you with the biggest grin on his face while you take a few more photos.
He moves over to stand next to you, "thankfully she has your nose, I think," he grins.
"But I hope she has your eyes," you smile up at him.
"She's got a head full of dark hair," he continues smiling at her, pulling the hat back enough for you to be able to see.
"Alright mummy, just going to clean you up a bit and put a fresh gown on you and get you some fresh linens," the midwife smiles at you, "then you can do some skin to skin with her."
Once you're cleaned up and have a fresh gown on and clean sheets, the midwife takes a few pictures of the three of you before placing your baby girl on your chest.
"She might be hungry soon, you can call the nurses to come help you with feeding her when you're ready," she smiles at you.
"She's beautiful, you both did a great job," she takes another picture for you before leaving the room.
Once she's left, Mason is standing beside the bed looking at both of you. He takes a few pictures with his phone and continues hovering over both of you.
"Mase, come here," you say scooting over in the bed and making room for him to sit with you.
He kicks his shoes off and climbs into bed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders as you cuddle into his side. He places his other hand over your baby's back as you both cradle her to your chest.
"She's so perfect," he whispers against your temple before kissing you there lightly, "I really can't believe she's here."
You both sit quietly, just taking in your first moments as a family of three until she starts to stir a bit and begins sucking on her hand.
"I think she's ready to eat," you say quietly as Mason calls for the nurse to come in.
He starts to get out of the bed when she comes in until you grab his arm, "just stay here, I'm more comfortable with you beside me," you smile at him.
He wraps his arm back around you and settles back at your side while the nurse helps you get your daughter latched on and eating.
"Let her eat as long as she wants to, if you get uncomfortable or need help switching her to the other side let me know," she smiles before leaving you alone again.
"You're so amazing, y/n, I'm so proud of you, I don't think I've ever seen you look as beautiful as you do right now," he speaks quiet words of affirmation to you while you're feeding her for the first time.
"Thank you, Mason, for everything, you've been wonderful this entire time, I couldn't have made it without you," you smile up at him.
"My girls," he whispers as he strokes his thumb over her head and squeezes you a little tighter before placing a soft kiss to your lips.
Once she's finished eating, the midwife comes in to check on you and offers to help you to the toilet.
"Mason, would you like to do skin to skin?" and before she even finishes her statement he's whipping his shirt off and tossing it across the room.
You both chuckle at him as you place her on his chest and cover them both with the blanket.
"I'm pretty sure you whipping your shirt off is what got us here in the first place," you grin at him.
"I think it was the other way around," he winks at you.
After you've been to the bathroom, the midwife brings in a couple of sandwiches and snacks for you both to eat.
"Mase," you say between bites, looking at him with your daughter sleeping soundly on his chest, "I know I just pushed a baby out not too long ago, but I'm so turned on seeing you with her right now," you smile shyly at him.
"I'll keep that in mind for later," he chuckles, watching as she wraps her tiny hand around his finger.
"I'm in so much trouble," he sighs, "she's gonna get away with everything, and I'm going to spoil her rotten."
"Well if you spoil her more than you do me, you might need another job or two," you lean against him, holding up one of the sandwiches for him to take a bite of.
"We should probably let people know she's here," he mumbles as he swallows his food, "I didn't even tell anyone you'd gone into labor."
"Let's wait just a little longer, I'm kind of enjoying having the two of you all to myself for now," you speak through a yawn.
"Why don't you take a nap, I'll be here, just staring at her," he says as he leans his head over on yours.
"Okay, but wake me up if you get sleepy, and I'll trade with you," you yawn again.
"Get some rest pretty girl, you've earned it," he kisses you on the top of the head before you drift off.
You wake from your nap a little while later when the baby starts to stir, you feed her while Mason makes a few calls letting your families and close friends know that she's here and everyone is doing well before you both settle in for the night.
The next morning, you are released to go home. Even though the midwife gives you the option to stay one more night, you want nothing more than to retreat to the comfort of your own home.
As you are filling in her the birth certificate prior to leaving you look over at Mason, "I guess it's really time for us to finalize her name," you smile at him.
While you'd both narrowed down a short list, you had decided you wanted to meet her before making the final decision.
"Would it be cheesy if we make her middle name something Christmas related?" you smile over to him while he balances her on his knees, just staring at her while she sleeps.
"So we've settled on Isla, correct?" he glances up to you before looking back down at her.
"Mmm" you hum in agreement, twirling the pen you are holding in your hand.
"How about Noelle as her middle name?" he smiles at her as she stirs slightly before smiling in her sleep.
"I think she likes it," he grins at you.
"Me too, pretty name for a pretty girl," you grin back at him.
The drive home is slow, as Mason refuses to drive the actual speed limit. You don't fuss at him, though, its incredibly sweet how protective he is of both of you.
Once you are at home, he takes over taking care of everything he can, refusing to let you lift a finger for more than feeding your daughter.
Mason misses a couple more days of training and a match to stay home with you, but you can tell he's getting antsy. He's not used to not being busy with work obligations and while you are grateful for his help and support, you also know he needs to get out of the house.
"Mase, I think you should go to training for a bit in the morning," you smile at him as you climb into bed beside him.
"No, I don't want to leave you," he shakes his head.
"I know, baby, but I can tell you are getting restless. At least go in for a couple of hours, we will be fine, I promise."
You watch as he mulls it over in his head.
"Maybe just for the outdoor work on the pitch, I can do the cardio and weight training here," he flashes you a smile.
Your days are consumed by caring for Isla, Mason does all he can to balance trying to get back into training with helping you at home.
He makes the extra effort to help with getting things together for Christmas, picking up groceries and trying to honor the traditions the two of you have.
One evening, as you are watching a Christmas movie and enjoying the cookies the two of you had baked earlier, he looks over and notices you've started crying.
"Y/N, baby, what's wrong?" he asks as he pauses the movie.
"I've just realized Christmas is only a couple of days away and I haven't finished my shopping and wrapping, and I didn't even buy her anything Christmassy to wear because I didn't think she would be here yet" you sob, suddenly overwhelmed.
He wraps his arms around you and kisses you on top of the head, "stay here, I'll be right back."
He disappears and then returns a few minutes later with a few bags in his hands.
"I picked up a couple of things the other day when I was out," he smiles at you, handing you the shopping bags.
You open them to find that he's bought matching pajamas for the three of you for Christmas Eve and Christmas morning, as well as a Christmas dress for Isla, a few cream color baby outfits and a blanket that says "Baby's First Christmas" on it.
"I noticed you looking at those a couple of weeks ago when we were out shopping," he smiles as you admire the things he picked up.
"You're too good to me," you let the tears fall from your eyes again.
He wipes them away gently and kisses you lightly on the lips, "you've given me everything I've ever wanted, it's the least I could do, sweetheart."
"Thank you," you choke out, "I'm sure it's just the hormones making me emotional."
The next morning after he's left for training, you hear a knock at the door. You hear chattering outside before you can open it, but as soon as you do you hear "Auntie, Y/N" as Summer squeals and then wraps her arms around your legs.
To your surprise, you find Mason's mother and sister and nieces standing outside.
You usher them in before Jazmine wraps you in a hug.
"We're sorry to show up unannounced, but Mase called last night worried about you," Debbie pulls you into an embrace after Jazmine.
"He said you needed help finishing up Christmas things," Jaz adds.
You nod, "I got a bit overwhelmed last night, I'm sure it scared him."
"He just wants to take care of his girls," Debbie smiles at you, "so put us to work, whatever you need.
"Thank you both, I'm sure you've got plenty to be doing yourselves, you didn't need to make the trip up here," you smile, thankful for the trouble they've gone to.
"Nonsense," Debbie grins, "any excuse to come and see that gorgeous baby works for me."
They had been here a couple of days after you had gotten home from the hospital, everyone eager to meet the new addition to the family.
Your mom is planning to come and stay a few days after the New Year since that's when you previously expected to go into labor.
"Mum is going to stay here with you and the girls, I'm going to run into the city to finish picking up whatever you need, if you can just let me know where you need me to go," Jaz offers.
You chat while they admire, Isla and you finish up your shopping list before Jazmine sets off.
While she's gone, Debbie helps you to wrap the gifts you already have that aren't wrapped and showers you with compliments over how well you are doing with everything and you have to admit it is nice to hear.
She arrives back to your house with the items she's picked up for you as well as dinner for you and Mason.
She cuddles her new niece while you wrap the last few gifts and spend a few minutes playing with your nieces.
Once they are sure you are feeling better about everything, they bundle up the girls and leave, heading back home after serving as your elves for a few hours.
Mason arrives home in the early afternoon to find you napping on the sofa with Isla in the bassinet next to you. He takes a few minutes to admire you while you sleep, never having felt more in awe of you and the way you've handled transitioning into this new role so flawlessly.
On Christmas Eve morning you wake to find Mason gone from the bed, you glance around and realize he must have gotten up with the baby and left you to sleep a little longer. You make your way downstairs to the living room and find him sleeping on the sofa with Isla snoozing on his chest. You take a few pictures of them, both sleeping with the Christmas tree glowing behind them and you've honestly never felt so content and in love in your entire life.
You make coffee for the two of you and gently wake Mason up.
"Morning, daddy" you grin at him sitting your coffee down before taking Isla and placing her in her basinette.
You hand him his mug as you sit down beside him, "you know my brain realizes I'm actually someone's daddy now, but my dick doesn't," he chuckles before leaning over and giving you a kiss.
Later in the afternoon Mason's family arrive to celebrate Christmas Eve and stay the night just as they always have. You enjoy your normal family traditions with them over the evening and next day; eating, opening presents, making cookies and playing games.
As Christmas Day draws to an end, your heart is full from spending the day enjoying Isla's first Christmas surrounded by those you love. When Deb offers to be on baby duty for the night, saying she will bring her to you when she needs to eat but otherwise let you and Mason get some much needed rest, you reluctantly give in knowing you could use some alone time together.
"Babe," you call out from your closet as you make a final adjustment to the red satin pajamas you put on, you're not quite ready for lingerie yet, but you admire your post baby curves and the way your breasts spill out of the top of the camisole you're wearing, knowing Mason will enjoy the way you look as well.
"Yeah," he answers and it sounds like he's in the bed.
"Could you do me a favor and sit on the end of the bed and close your eyes," you call back to him, "I have one more gift for you," you grin in anticipation.
"Ok," he answers a bit puzzled.
"You there?" You call back.
"Yep," he chuckles.
"No peeking," you smile at him as you look around the door to make sure he followed your directions.
You walk over to him, gently taking his hands and placing them on your hips while you stand between his legs and rest your hands on his shoulders.
"Okay, you can open them" you whisper.
He opens his eyes and the look on his face is one that you hope you won't forget anytime soon. His eyes are full of wonder and love, mixed with a flair of lust and heat.
"Jesus baby, you look incredible, what's this all about?" he grins up at you.
"Well, I figure I've been on the nice list all day, but I kind of want to end the night on the naughty list," you wink at him.
"I didn't think we could, you know..." he trails off and knits his eyebrows together.
"We can't, yet, but I've noticed your showers have been extra long lately, and just because some things are off limits doesn't mean all things are off limits," you lean down to kiss him hungrily.
He raises his eyebrows as you pull a red satin ribbon from beside him and move to cover his eyes with it.
"One last look" you wink at him as his eyes rake up and and down your body before you blindfold him.
"You are naughty," he chuckles to himself.
"I haven't even gotten started yet, babe" you smile at his eagerness as you settle on your knees in front of him.
You kiss along his chest and abdomen, flicking your tongue along the smattering of hairs just below his navel before he jerks his hips involuntarily.
"Patience baby," you smile against him as you slip your hands in the waistband of his pajama pants and slide them down his legs when he lifts his hips for you.
"Have you not had on underwear all day," you ask him as you take his hardened length in your hand and enjoy the quiet gasp that escapes his lips.
"Nope," he breathes out stifling a moan as you flick your tongue over his tip lapping at the precum that has already collected there.
"If I'd have known that I would've given you your present earlier," you whisper before licking a stripe along the vein on the underside of his shaft.
"Oh god, baby," he moans as everything seems more sensitive without being able to see what you're doing.
"Mase you're going to have to try to be quiet," you chuckle, "we do still have guests."
"Got it, I'll try, but I can't make any promises," he groans as his head tips back when you take him in your mouth and begin to slowly work him just the way you know he likes it.
You alternate bobbing your head with swirling your tongue around his tip, working what won't fit in your mouth with your hands. He places one hand on the back of your head to steady your pace and to ground himself a little.
"So good baby" he breathes out, "so so good."
You glance up to see him with his head back as he's still blindfolded, his chest rising and falling as he tries to keep himself quiet.
You take more of him into your mouth, gagging as his tip hits the back of your throat.
You continue working him, letting him feel the tip of his cock in your cheek when he grazes his fingers along your jaw.
"So perfect," he bites his lower lip.
"Can you take a bit more for me?" he pleads as you relax your jaw and take as much of him into your mouth as you can.
"God, yes, that's it baby, so good for me," he groans when you hollow out your cheeks and suck harder as you pull back off of him a little.
"I'm close," his head falls back again as you drop extra spit down his cock and work him with your hands.
"Come on, Mase, cum for me, I want every drop of it."
You swirl your tongue around his tip again before taking him fully into your mouth and running your tongue along his shaft.
"Fuck, y/n" he moans as his abs contract and he shudders and releases himself into your mouth.
As his breathing slows you reach up and pull the ribbon from his eyes, allowing him to see you on your knees in front of him, with his cum on your tongue before you swallow all of if and wipe what spilled from your lip and chin with your thumb.
"Just when I didn't think today could get any better, you pull something like this out of your bag," he grins as he pulls you to your feet and then into his lap.
"I'm full of surprises," you chuckle before you kiss him deeply, allowing him to taste himself.
"This has been the best Christmas," he smiles as he lays his head against your chest.
"Because of the blow job?" you giggle.
"Well, I mean, I've got no complaints there, but because it's just been such a good day with our new little family. You're so incredible, you've handled everything so well and I'm so proud of you and fall more and more in love with you every single day," he glances up to see the tears in your eyes.
"I love you, Mase, I'm couldn't do any of this without you, you've been amazing," you lean down to kiss him gently.
"Merry Christmas, baby" you smile against his lips before he falls back on the bed and pulls you close to him.
"Merry Christmas, love," he whispers.
Taglist:
@neverinadream @chilwellsancho@pulisicsgirl @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @xjval
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Calling Out
Zayne x gn!Reader
I do really love this one. I love when Zayne is staunchly trying to take care of us even when we're a bit stubborn about it
Warnings: fluff, a little silly, sleep deprivation, exhaustion, stress
Word Count: 714
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"How long have you been awake?"
"You don't want the answer to that question."
"I assume I wouldn't be jumping for joy if I heard it."
You sigh and rub at your tired eyes. All day, you've been hunched over your desk, clawing your hair out in frustration with your school work. On top of that, someone at work just quit, meaning you're one of the lucky few that gets to pick up the slack and take on more shifts until the company can bother to hire someone halfway decent. You're just grateful you have enough time in between the two to meet with Zayne for lunch.
"I was up all night," you admit. "One of my teachers thought it would be a great idea to give us an assignment that should take a week and have it due that same day."
"You didn't go to bed immediately after?"
"No."
"Is there a reason?"
"Couldn't sleep."
The waiter brings over a cup of coffee and a cup of green tea. You mutter a thanks and grab some sugar packets from the caddy on the table. You rip a few of them open at once with your teeth, lazily stir it in, and go to take a sip. Zayne's hand covers the top, and your mouth hits his fingers before he drags it down.
"You just put salt in your coffee."
... No fucking way. You pick up the "sugar" packets to read the writing on the side. Sure enough, it's salt. You groan and slouch in your chair, head back and eyes closed. A touch melodramatic, perhaps, but Zayne thinks nothing of it as he places the cup of green tea in front of you.
"Drink this."
You look at it with a frown. "There's not enough caffeine in that."
He nods. "Precisely. You need to rest."
You sigh. "I can't, Zayne, I have work after this."
"Call out."
"I can't-"
"Doctor's orders. I'll give you a note."
"Zayne, I can't call in sick now! We're already understaffed and there's nobody who can cover for my shift on such short notice!"
He pushes the cup toward you more insistently. "Drink. You're going to work yourself into the ground if you keep on like this."
You snort humorlessly. "Hey, kettle."
He shoots you a disapproving look. "If you're not going to worry about your health, then allow me to. There is no situation that you can think up where your well-being comes after work."
You stare down into the green tea. You know he's right - of course he is. But there's a guilt that gnaws on your conscious every time you think of taking a break. For better or worse, that guilt has been the driving force behind your work. How long have you been detached from the "love of the game", from getting your degree to get the job you've always wanted? It no longer feels like a stepping stone to your future. It's a boulder in the way that you need to push up a mountain, inch by agonizing inch. It's only a matter of time before it comes rolling back on top of you; if you keep working through it, maybe you can avoid that happening.
And yet here you are. Your grasp on the boulder is slipping.
You take a small sip. It's herbal and warm. It doesn't have the kick the coffee does. You hope you can stay awake through lunch.
The stern look on his face relaxes slightly. He doesn't have to worry about you being rushed to the hospital in an ambulance because you passed out on the job. "How many sick days do you have saved up?"
You rub your eyes as you think. "I don't know. Enough for an emergency."
He flags down a passing waiter and hands them the ruined coffee. They take it away with a confused look. "Would you like me to make the call for you?" he asks, genuinely.
"Won't they be confused why my doctor is personally calling them from my phone? Would they even believe that?"
"Let me worry about that." He holds out his hand expectantly. You sigh. There’s no way you’re getting out of Zayne’s care now. Resigned, you pull it out of your pocket and pass it over.
---
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About the Sword of Koholint Island. you know, the level two sword? I like to call it Dream Weaver. the dream world equivalent to the maser sword. the thing is, once someone draws it, it's theirs till death. and i like to imagine traveler with the other links getting ambushed, his sword gets sent flying and he's about to be struck down but then *flash!* a most familiar sword appears in his hands.....a sword that while it saves his life...brings back memories he finds too painful. and suddenly he's telling the gang about Marin, the island, and what he feels is his greatest crime... just to feel less....hurt inside.
does that sound like a thing? like a cool idea?
I'm so sorry it took me so long to respond to this! You caught me right at the beginning of one of my busiest college semesters yet lol
I love your idea, here's a short fic about it to make up for the wait!
(tw: panic attack)
"Can I get some help over here?!" Legend yelped, narrowly ducking under the swing of a darknut's blade. One of the Rancher's monsters, if he recalled correctly. He could hear the young man dramatically sharing the tale of how he had once faced down four of them at once, light from the campfire dancing excitedly in his eyes as he talked about how thrilling it was to hone his swordsmanship against such highly skilled and armored foes.
Legend had decided that the man was a lunatic.
"Give me a second!" Wind responded from a platform above Legend, "I've got a few more bubbles and floormasters to clear out!"
"No problem, take your time," Legend grumbled, bracing his shield against another heavy blow that made his teeth feel like they were going to rattle out of his skull. He sidestepped the next attack, trying to keep all the darknuts in his line of sight. One was still in full armor with a claymore, the other two had lost most of their armor and were wielding broadswords. Legend narrowed his eyes, focusing on the one that looked the most injured. He could probably take it down in another hit or two, as soon as he found an opening.
The darknut, unfortunately, was smart, and was generally keeping it's distance from him. The other sword-wielding darknut recognized Legend's plan and suddenly lunged forward in an attempt to catch him off guard while his focus was elsewhere.
Fine, guess that one was going down first then.
Legend dodged and quickly struck at the opening as hard as he could, causing the darknut to stumble. He pressed the advantage, raining down blows until the darknut finally collapsed and disappeared in a small cloud of inky smoke.
"Vet, look out!"
The other wounded darknut had closed the distance and attempted to use the smokescreen to help it run Legend through. The Vet simply grinned at the predictable strategy. He readied his sword to fell the monster.
Something bit into his shoulder, and the cold, unnatural sensation of a curse spread from the wound. His sword dropped from his grasp.
Right, Wind had mentioned bubbles.
Legend managed to raise his shield just in time, but the angle of the impact still sent him crashing to the ground. He caught a brief glimpse of his tempered sword's orange blade as it spun by him. He scrambled away from the remaining two darknuts and blindly, frantically, felt around for his weapon, praying for the bubble's curse to fade by the time he found it.
One of the Sailor's arrows flew by his head, pinning the bubble to the ground. It's curse lifted from Legend's shoulders.
The darknuts towered over him, their blades raised.
His fingers grazed a hilt, and the Veteran's heart lept.
He snatched up the blade and plunged it into the wounded darknut right as a battle cry sounded from the platform above and the Sailor dropped onto the head of the other darknut, his own sword sliding right into the gap in the monster's armor right by it's neck. Legend rolled out of the way of the darknut he had just slain as Wind jumped off of the remaining darknut, and together the heroes hacked off it's armor before finally taking it down.
They stood there in the now silent room for a moment, catching their breath.
"Well, that sucked," Legend groaned.
Wind had the audacity to giggle in response. "At least we managed to get out relatively unharmed! …You aren't seriously hurt, right?"
"No, just a lot of cuts and bruises, no big deal," Legend responded dryly, "I would like a nap, though."
"Yeah, a nap sounds good," Wind sighed. "Oh, you dropped your weird orange sword by the way, here!"
"Huh?"
Legend turned to find the tempered sword lying in Wind's hands.
"Where did you pull that other sword from anyway? It looked like it just appeared out of thin air!" Wind asked excitedly. "Is it magic?"
"But, I thought I-"
Legend looked down at the sword in his hands.
The very
very
very familiar sword…
Waves crashing on the shore. Seashells and sand between his fingers. Hair as fiery as the setting sun, and a smile just as radiant. A new blade to help him along his journey, the smell of sea salt forever ingrained in the leather handle.
It was a dream.
It was always a dream…
…
…Was this also… a…?
"-et, hey Vet! Link!"
Who was…
"Link, buddy, you gotta breathe, okay?"
Breathe…
His chest hurt.
"In and out, okay?"
He tried to take a breath, and almost immediately choked. He coughed violently, his chest burning.
"Hey, hey, you're okay. Just try again, okay Link?"
He managed one tiny breath. Then another.
Still too fast, way too fast, he wasn't doing it right, his heart was fluttering like a bird in a cage-
"You're doing great, buddy, take your time. Breathe like I do, okay?"
Someone was holding him. Their chest rose and fell against his cheek, slow and steady, an anchored ship riding the choppy waves. He held on as tightly as he could and listened to the rhythm.
In, out. In, out…
Slowly but surely, Link's breathing began to even out. He exhaled slowly, the motion shaky but relieved.
"Hey, buddy, you back with us?"
Oh, the Sailor was holding him.
"Y-yeah," Legend answered hoarsely, "Sorry to make you deal with that-"
"Hey, hey, none of that," Wind interrupted, holding Legend tighter, "We've all gone through stuff like that, you know? I'll always be happy to help you."
Tears began to gather in Legend's eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. "Okay," he said softly, "Thank you, Sailor."
Wind hummed happily. "Are you ready to get out of here, away from… well, whatever sword that is?"
Legend froze, suddenly catching sight of the blade that lay on the ground by their feet.
It was still there. He hadn't hallucinated it. Why was it still there?
He broke away from the hug, instead holding Wind by the shoulders so that he could look the boy directly in the eyes. The bright blue tunic was soft beneath his fingers in spite of the fairly thick layer of dust and grime from the battle that covered it. Body heat seeped through the fabric. Worry and confusion swam in Wind's eyes.
Legend braced himself.
"Sailor… this might sound like a weird question, but… are you real?"
"I- what?"
"Please," Legend begged, "Just… tell me. Are you real?"
Wind placed his hands over Legend's. "I believe I am. Why do you think I might not be?"
The Vet glanced back down at the sword, still lying on the ground next to his usual tempered blade. "That sword… it's from one of my adventures. In that adventure, I met and grew close to a lot of people. But… it was all a dream. None of it was real, not the island, not that sword, not a single person except me."
He looked up at Wind, eyes frantic. "That sword shouldn't exist, but it does! You can see it, I can see it, but it was just a dream! It was only ever a dream! So please, tell me, what does that make you?"
Wind simply stared back at him in shock.
Legend's shoulders slumped.
"Please…"
He bowed his head in defeat, tears beginning to drip down his cheeks.
"Hey, Vet, hold on," Wind said gently. "Don't give up, we don't have proof either way yet."
"Why's that?" Legend croaked.
"Well, you know, I also had an adventure in a dream. Maybe."
Legend's ears flicked in surprise.
"It was the domain of the Ocean King, a kind of whale deity I think."
Legend's head shot up at that, his eyes wide.
"It was a separate place from my own Great Sea, and no time passed while I was there, but you know what? I had a friend there who was able to come with me back to my world, even though he was from the Ocean King's domain. Do you think, maybe, that sword did something similar?"
"I…" Legend trailed off uncertainly, "I don't know. I didn't think that was possible."
Wind thought for a moment. "Oh, do you have some way to check whether you're awake or asleep? And don't say that you stab yourself or something!" he added quickly, "Because I won't allow that!"
Legend nearly laughed in spite of himself. "No, I don't do that, too risky." He removed his hands from Wind's shoulders to dig through his item pouch, eventually coming up with a small, worn ocarina. "I have a song that can wake anything, even a deity."
Wind giggled softly. "I guess I should have expected that from you. Well, go ahead and play it!"
Legend hesitated, staring at the ocarina.
"Sailor, if… if we are sleeping, and this song wakes us up… we might never see each other again. We might never see the others again either." His hands shook. "I-I'm not ready for that."
A soft, encouraging smile shone on the boy's face. "Veteran, do you wanna know something? I don't think either of us are asleep. I believe this whole adventure has been real. I believe the Champion's cooking was real, and I believe the Captain's playful banter with you was real, and I believe Sky's excitement when we asked about his wood carvings was real."
He cupped his hands around Legend's, holding the ocarina with him as if he was making a wish on it.
"I believe the Smithy's annoyance when that like-like almost ate his shield was real, and I believe the Old Man's smile when he saw Miss Malon again was real. I believe the magic that the Traveler used when he refused to give up on our Rancher was real, and I believe that the strength that the Rancher showed when he returned from the brink was real. I believe that all the time I spent with you, and all the time you spent with us, all of it was real, Veteran. I believe that with my whole heart."
Legend let out a shaky breath as he met Wind's earnest gaze.
"Trust me," Wind said, "Play it. I'm not going anywhere, I promise."
Slowly, very slowly, the Veteran brought the ocarina to his lips.
"I'm holding you to that promise," he muttered softly, and he began to play.
The Ballad of the Windfish broke the silence of the dungeon, it's notes echoing off the vast stone walls in an utterly beautiful and haunting way. Legend nearly fumbled some of the notes as he felt the song's magic begin to flow, but Wind rested a comforting hand on his leg to steady him.
Trust.
The two heroes closed their eyes as the music washed over them. The notes climbed higher, higher, then…
They stopped.
Silence.
Legend opened his eyes to find Wind smiling back at him.
Nothing had changed.
Legend let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and pulled the boy into an embrace. He buried his face in Wind's shoulder, whispering thanks to the goddesses over and over.
Wind held him just as tightly. "I told you, I told you!" he cheered, bouncing up and down a little in excitement.
The Vet pulled away just enough to give Wind a watery grin. "You did. Thanks, kid. I don't know what I would have done without you."
"Hmm, I'll give you a pass on calling me a kid this one time," Wind teased. "Oh, sword's still there, by the way."
"So it is," Legend hummed. "…I think I'm too exhausted to further consider the implications of that right now, though."
"Me too," Wind agreed as he rose to his feet and offered a hand to Legend, "Want to go find the others and leave this problem for future us?"
Legend looked at the two swords for a moment, then carefully ran his fingers over the Koholint sword as if to confirm it was still real. He sighed and sheathed the tempered sword on his back before picking up the Koholint sword. As soon as the thought of where he would store it crossed his mind, it vanished in his hand. He blinked in surprise, then tried willing it back into existence. It reappeared right back in his hand. He vanished it again, and turned to take Wind's hand.
"Yeah, leaving this for later sounds good."
#merry late christmas lol have some hurt/comfort#this is just a lightly edited rough draft but i hope you enjoy nonetheless#i had so much fun considering the possibilities and clearly it spiraled a little out of control#thanks for the great ask!#lu legend#lu wind#linkeduniverse#linked universe#icaru's asks#my writing#tw panic attack
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𓆝..°°𓈒 ⋆ (필릭스) : REMEMBER THIS SUMMER "MONDAY"
𓆉 °°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:・ synopsis felix is living the summer every teenager dreams of, with a perfect beach house on the east coast of australia and an even more perfect girlfriend. by taking the best of both worlds, felix invites her to experience the world he grew up in to make this the best summer ever. amidst bonfires, romantic sunsets, and seagulls, felix has one goal this summer: to finally tell her he loves her. with just one week to do so, felix is met with a challenge to make his feelings known before time runs out.
pairing: nonidol!felix x fem!reader, series warnings: felix + reader are intended to be 17-18, established relationship, fluff, underaged drinking at a bonfire/party, use of "chink" please read below, borderline violence due to influence under alcohol important notes: The content of this work is purely fictional and is not intended to endorse or encourage any behavior, especially among minors, that may be deemed inappropriate or unsafe. This story is created solely for entertainment purposes and should be understood as fiction. This work includes the use of a racial slur, which is solely included for the purpose of the story and to reflect certain character dynamics or societal issues. It does not represent my personal views or beliefs, nor does it come from the characters of Felix or the reader. As an Asian author, I approach this topic with sensitivity and awareness. The inclusion of such language is not intended to perpetuate harm but rather to portray the realities faced by marginalized communities. Reader discretion is advised.
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chapter under the cut! ~11k words
the next morning, you woke up in the guest room you were staying in, the sun beaming through the large windows. the room was bathed in a warm, golden light, making the white walls and light blue accents glow softly. you could hear the faint sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore in the distance and the air was filled with the fresh scent of morning dew.
you sat up and looked at your phone for the time. it was still early, but the sun was making its presence known. you plopped back down, and after a few moments of basking in the morning light, you decided to get up. slipping on your fluffy slippers, you headed out of your room to freshen up.
a quick rinse of your face, a good teeth brushing, and a refreshing shower later, you felt fully awake. you brushed through your still-damp hair, deciding to leave it to dry naturally. the humid summer air always seemed to coax out the soft waves in your hair. besides, you loved the effortless look the season gave you—tanned skin from those first few weeks of summer, a natural glow that didn’t need much enhancement.
you curled your lashes, swiped on a bit of tinted lip balm, and stepped back to check the mirror. that was all you needed. summer was kind like that: minimal effort, maximum payoff. your skin had that sun-kissed warmth, and your hair had a life of its own, perfectly undone in a way you couldn’t replicate any other time of year. you smiled at yourself, satisfied, and headed out to see where the morning would take you.
once you got back to your room, you rummaged through your suitcase and picked out an outfit: a pair of frayed denim shorts and a flowy floral top with soft pink and yellow hues. the combo was light, breezy, and perfect for the warm day ahead. just as you were putting your necklace on, a knock sounded at the door.
"come in," you called.
the door creaked open to reveal felix, and you had to bite back a laugh. his hair was a complete disaster—wild tufts sticking up every which way, as if he'd had an argument with his pillow all night and lost. he stood there, bleary-eyed, wearing nothing but a pair of red plaid pajama pants slung low on his hips. his chest rose and fell with the kind of lazy rhythm that only came with someone who wasn’t fully awake yet. his squinting eyes barely adjusted to the golden morning light streaming in from your windows.
"look at you!" you teased, unable to resist pulling out your phone and snapping a quick picture of his morning look.
felix groaned dramatically, running a hand through his already messy hair in a failed attempt to tame it. "why are you like this?" he mumbled, shuffling across the room like a grumpy toddler before collapsing face-first onto your bed. "can i sleep here?" he muttered into your pillow, his voice muffled.
you perched on the edge of the bed, brushing a strand of damp hair behind your ear. "what's wrong?"
"a pigeon keeps pecking at my window," he grumbled, dragging your blanket over his bare shoulders like a makeshift cocoon.
"a pigeon?" you repeated, already laughing.
"seagull, same thing," he muttered sleepily, burrowing deeper into the covers like he was trying to merge with your bed. after a moment, he inhaled deeply and let out a content sigh. "and the bed smells like you," he said softly, his hand reaching out blindly until it found yours. he gave it a light squeeze before letting his arm fall limply back onto the mattress.
your chest tightened at the sweetness of it. smiling, you reached out to brush his hair, the strands soft between your fingers despite the chaos. "my mom wanted us to get bagels this morning," he said, his face still buried in your pillow. "they only have the good ones in the morning," he mumbled, the words barely decipherable but completely serious, like he was delivering some sacred bagel truth.
"then we better go," you said, laughing softly.
felix groaned again, this time flipping over onto his back, the blanket now tangled around his waist. he looked up at you through half-lidded eyes, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "not yet," he murmured, his voice low and rough with sleep. “come on, lay with me for a minute," he said, patting the empty spot beside him.
"felix," you said, rolling your eyes.
he waved a dismissive hand, his biceps flexing ever so slightly. "my mom will survive. it’s not like they’re gonna run out in the next five minutes." his smirk widened as his eyes flicked over to you. "seriously, come here. the bed’s big enough, and i’m a fantastic pillow. multi-purpose, really."
you crossed your arms, arching a brow. "you’re ridiculous."
"just for a minute,” he stretched his arms over his head, showing just enough of his abs to make it clear he wasn’t playing fair. "the bed’s warm. and you’re cold."
"i’m not cold," you said, shaking your head as you grabbed a pillow and lightly smacked it against his chest. "get moving, felix," you shot back, already heading toward the door before he could say anything else to make your face heat up.
as you neared the dock of his family’s beach, the sight of their boat came into view. it was a sleek, white vessel with blue trim, bobbing gently in the water. felix led the way, his hand still holding yours, guiding you with ease.
“i got you,” he said, stepping onto the boat first, the wood creaking slightly under his weight. he turned back, extending a hand to you. you took it, feeling the strength of his grip as you jumped in, the boat rocking slightly once again.
felix helped you steady yourself, and guided you to a seat beside him as he made his way to the helm. the boat’s interior was polished and tidy, with cushioned seats and a small table in the centre. you sat down, feeling the coolness of the white leather seat beneath you.
he started the engine, the low hum of the motor blending with the sounds of the sea. the boat began to glide smoothly across the water, the wind whipping through your hair. you watched as felix expertly maneuvered the boat, his hands steady on the wheel. the sun reflected off the water, casting shimmering patterns on the boat’s deck.
felix turned to you with a smile, his eyes sparkling with excitement. you couldn’t help but smile back, the wind tugging at your hair and filling your lungs with the salty scent of the sea. his goofy side always comes out when he was driving the boat. he leaned into the turns with exaggerated movements, pretending to be a race car driver.
“hold on tight!” felix shouted, his voice barely audible over the rush of wind and waves. he accelerated, the boat picking up speed and bouncing over the water. you grabbed the edge of your seat, as he sent sprays of water into the air, the droplets sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight.
“having fun?” he called out, but his words were lost in the wind. you furrowed your brow, unable to hear him clearly.
“what?” you shouted back, leaning in to try and catch his words. he repeated himself, but the wind still swallowed his voice. determined to understand, you moved closer, bringing your face just inches from his. felix laughed at your proximity, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
before you could ask again, he couldn't help but take that chance to kiss you, his lips warm and firm against yours. you pulled back with a grin, playfully swatting his arm. “focus!” you said, laughing.
felix chuckled, his eyes never leaving the water as he steadied the boat. “i asked if you're having fun,” he repeated, louder this time.
“yeah!” you replied, your voice just as loud to compete with the wind. felix gave a satisfied nod, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint.
without thinking twice, you jumped up from your seat and made your way to the open area in the bow of the boat. felix watched with amusement as you raised your hands in the air and let out a loud "whoo!" that echoed across the ocean.
the wind tousled your hair as you embraced the thrill of the moment, the salty breeze tingling against your skin. as you passed by another boat, its wake created a larger wave, causing you to squeal in surprise. you stumbled slightly as the boat rocked, testing your balance and felix's laughter bubbled up as he saw you teeter for a moment, but you managed to steady yourself, grinning widely despite the near slip.
you then reached into your pocket and pulled out your trusty digital camera. with a mischievous grin, you skipped back to felix and aimed the camera backwards towards both of you.
you pressed a kiss to felix's cheek for the photo and he posed with a big beaming smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners, captured in the frame. as you lowered the camera and looked back at the photo on the small screen, a gasp escaped your lips which felix could easily guess meant you were happy with it.
as you looked up from the camera, the harbour came into view like something out of a postcard. rows of boats rocked gently in the sparkling blue water, their masts swaying in time with the soft waves. the docks were lined with weathered wooden planks, and colourful flags fluttered in the breeze, adding splashes of vibrant reds, yellows, and blues to the scene. small pastel-painted shops and cozy waterfront cafés dotted the shoreline, their signs advertising fresh seafood, ice cream, and souvenirs. overhead, seagulls circled lazily, their sharp cries blending with the hum of conversation and the occasional bark of a distant dog.
felix eased the boat to a slower pace, the engine's hum softening as he steered with practiced precision. his hand rested on the wheel, his posture relaxed yet focused. he glanced over at you, the corners of his lips tugging into a small, confident smile. “alright,” he said, gesturing towards the front of the boat. “you see the anchor up at the bow?”
your eyes followed his motion, spotting the anchor coiled neatly near the edge. “mmhm,” you said with a nod.
“i want you to grab it and take it to the edge. when i say ‘drop it,’ you let it go slow. don’t just chuck it, alright? you want it to catch, not tangle.”
“yes sir,” you said, suppressing a grin at his serious tone.
with careful steps, you moved to the bow, the anchor feeling heavier than you expected as you lifted it. felix slowed the boat further, adjusting the wheel slightly as he glanced over his shoulder to make sure you were ready. “alright, now. lower it nice and steady.”
you crouched down and eased the anchor into the water, feeling its weight pull gently against your grip as the chain unraveled. the boat gave a soft tug as the anchor caught, settling it into place. “great job,” felix said from behind you, his tone warm. “now come back here.”
as you returned to your seat, felix hopped out of the boat with effortless ease, the dock creaking softly under his weight. he bent down and grabbed the rope, securing it to a nearby cleat with a twist and loop. straightening up, he looked back at you and extended a hand. “your turn,” he said, his voice teasing. “come on, before you fall in and i have to fish you out.”
“funny,” you muttered, rolling your eyes and taking his hand. his grip was strong but careful as he helped you step onto the dock, your feet finding the sturdy planks beneath you.
“nice, isn’t it?” he asked, glancing around with an easy grin. the sun caught on the streaks of gold in his hair, and his eyes reflected the deep blue of the water.
“it’s beautiful,” you replied softly, taking in the bustling harbour again. the air was alive with the sound of children laughing and the clinking of glasses from a nearby café patio. a pair of kids ran past you, their flip-flops slapping against the wood, and you couldn’t help but smile at the carefree energy of it all.
felix gave your hand a gentle squeeze, his touch grounding. “come on,” he said, leading you down the dock with a laid-back confidence, his fingers still loosely intertwined with yours. as the two of you walked, the scent of saltwater mingled with the tempting aroma of fresh bread and coffee, making you feel like you’d stepped into a perfect summer day.
as you continued walking along the dock, the bagel shop came into view, a quaint little place with a sea blue and white striped awning that fluttered gently in the breeze. the windows were adorned with hand-painted signs advertising fresh bagels, coffee, and house-made spreads. the aroma of freshly baked bread spilled into the street, mingling with the salty tang of the ocean air.
the inside of the shop was just as charming as the outside. rustic wooden tables were scattered around, their surfaces polished smooth from years of use. a chalkboard menu hung above the counter, listing the day’s offerings in looping white script. the display case beneath it was packed with three types of bagels—everything, blueberry, and cinnamon raisin—alongside trays of pastries glistening with sugar glazes and bowls of spreads.
the place wasn’t busy yet, so you and felix went straight up to the counter. behind it stood a girl about your age, her blonde hair pulled into a neat braid that highlighted her delicate features. when her eyes landed on your boyfriend, they lit up like fireworks, her entire face breaking into a radiant smile.
“oh my gosh, is that felix?” she exclaimed, her voice carrying a bubbly excitement that seemed to fill the shop.
felix offered her a polite smile as he replied, “good day.”
the girl leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on the counter as she beamed at him. “when did you get in?” she asked, her enthusiasm unmistakable.
“we drove down yesterday morning,” felix said, glancing at the menu.
“wow, it’s so good to have you back!” she gushed, her words tumbling out like she couldn’t get them fast enough.
“how’s the store been this summer?” he asked.
“busy, busy, like every year,” she replied. “you know how it gets when the tourists roll in. but it’s been good. we’ve had a lot of regulars come in lately, which is nice.”
“nice,” felix nodded, his fingers tapping absentmindedly on the counter.
she paused for a second, glancing toward the sea. “there’s a new pastry shop that just opened up a couple of streets over,” she said, her expression turning a little more serious. “they’re getting a lot of attention, to be honest. the line’s been out the door every morning, and i’m not sure what’s drawing people in, but they’re definitely pulling a crowd.”
felix raised an eyebrow. “sheesh,” he murmured, shaking his head slightly. “competition getting fierce, huh?”
“yeah,” she said with a half-smile, but there was a glimmer of pride in her eyes. “i mean, it’s good for the neighborhood, right? more foot traffic, more people coming through. but it does make things interesting, that’s for sure.”
felix laughed softly, leaning back a little. “i get that.” he shrugged.
“we try our best to keep the locals happy. you know, there’s gonna be a bonfire tonight a couple hundred metres from your house. i still remember how much you and chris loved them last year.” she smiled at the memory, her tone softening just a bit. “how is he, by the way?”
chris had been felix's family friend since they were toddlers, and you knew him as an incredibly nice guy. felix often told you stories about how he used to think chris and his friends were so much older and cooler. even when felix was still in elementary school and chris had already entered secondary school, he often invited felix to hang out with him. there was always a hint of admiration in felix’s voice when he talked about those days, like chris had been more of an older brother than just a friend.
“he’s doing great,” felix replied with an easy grin, leaning his elbow on the counter. “i don’t think he’s coming this year, though. he’s off to college this fall, so he’s had a lot going on.”
“that’s a shame,” she said, her expression faltering for just a second before brightening again. “but you could bring…” her gaze slid to you, the pause deliberate.
felix didn’t miss a beat. “of course,” he said smoothly, stating your name like it was the most natural thing in the world.
her smile stayed in place, but her eyes flicked over you quickly, assessing. there was something in her look—friendly, but maybe a touch too curious. “great. i hope you both can make it,” she said, her tone as cheerful as ever.
“we’ll see,” felix replied noncommittally, already turning his attention to the bagels. “can we get a dozen, please?”
“sure thing,” she said, tapping the order into the register. “anything else?”
“that’s all,” felix said, pulling out his wallet and handing over a crisp bill.
“coming right up,” she chirped, flashing another bright smile before moving to prepare the order.
as she turned away, felix rested his hand lightly on your back, the warmth of his palm steady and grounding. “let’s go over here,” he murmured, steering you toward a quiet spot by the window.
felix leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a quieter tone, the teasing edge softening just a little. "can i be honest with you?" he asked, his eyes locking with yours in that way that made your pulse quicken. you nodded, the corners of your lips lifting in curiosity, wondering where this was going.
his hand brushed over his face, clearly hesitant. "i… i did not know her name," he confessed, his voice laced with embarrassment.
you blinked, trying to make sense of it. "wait—what?" you laughed, a little incredulous. "are you serious right now?"
"i’m not joking!" felix said with a self-deprecating laugh. "i’ve always just called her 'the bagel girl,'" he explained, his voice tinged with a hint of disbelief, as if it was still a bit ridiculous to him. "and it wasn’t even that i didn’t care enough to remember her name," he added quickly, his face turning a little red. "it’s just... i don’t know if it never came up."
you raised an eyebrow, the wheels turning in your mind. "so, how come she knows your name?" you asked, a little amused. "it must have come up before.?"
felix shifted uncomfortably, his hands slipping into his pockets. "well," he began, looking down for a moment before meeting your gaze, "last year my friend told me she was into me, and i guess she figured it out from, you know, caring so much." he smirked.
"no wonder you were so flirty just then," you teased, leaning in slightly with a playful grin. "you definitely wanted her to eat it up, didn’t you? you dick."
felix immediately turned red, and his eyes widened in offense. "i did not!" he protested, throwing his hands up as if to defend his honor.
you laughed, nudging him. "it’s normal, felix. we’ve all done it before." you said.
felix let out a dramatic sigh, leaning back a little. "believe what you want," he said with a casual shrug, but there was still that teasing glint in his eye. "i was just being felix. nothing more to it."
still, you decided to piss him off further. "i don’t blame you though," you said, crossing your arms. "i mean, if i knew a girl like that liked me, i’d probably do the same."
felix’s face flushed deeper, and he opened his mouth to respond, but the words caught in his throat. his voice dropped, almost uncertain. "i... i don’t..." he stuttered, trying to find the words to explain himself but failing. he wanted to deny it, to say something flippant like he always did, but something felt different now. he wanted to tell you that you were the only girl he found strikingly beautiful, that no one else had made him feel the way you did. but something inside him held back, just like it had last night.
“you know,” he started, his voice more serious now, “i’m not saying this to brag or anything…” he glanced at you, making sure you were listening. “but this is what it was like last year,” he said, a small sigh escaping his lips. “it’s like... after i got abs, everyone suddenly noticed me.”
you raised an eyebrow, your tone light but curious. “interesting,” you said.
"before, it was chris and felix. like i was always following him around," he continued, his voice softer now, almost as if he were thinking out loud. "he was always the older one, the one everyone knew first. and then, last year, it was like people just realized i was there. like i had always been welcomed, but suddenly i wasn’t just chris’s little buddy anymore. people started looking at me differently. it was... strange.”
he shrugged, a small, almost self-deprecating smile playing at the corners of his lips, but there was a hint of uncertainty behind his words. "i guess that’s just how things go. i didn't really know how to handle it at first. it felt kind of weird, like i didn't belong in the spotlight, you know?"
the silence between you stretched for a moment as you processed his words. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, the hesitation that lingered around his smile. it was rare for him to open up like this, and it felt like he was finally letting you see a side of him that wasn’t just the teasing felix you usually saw.
"i get that," you said, in an attempt to comfort him. "you don’t want to feel like you’re getting noticed because you’ve grown or look better. it’s hard when everyone suddenly sees you differently." you placed a hand gently on his arm, offering him a comforting squeeze. "but you’re more than that. you always have been. and people should notice you for who you are, not just how you look."
felix looked down at the ground for a moment, then met your gaze, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "yeah," he murmured, his voice soft. "i guess that’s why you’re special." he let out a quiet chuckle, his eyes twinkling as he crinkled his nose. "you first started liking me—back in physics, right? i mean, come on, keep in mind i had a full shirt on." he grinned, his tone teasing but affectionate. “that’s gotta mean something." he added the last part with a playful smirk.
"i think it was your charm and persuasion," you said with a teasing smile. "you always tricked me into thinking you knew what you were talking about, when you had no idea."
felix raised an eyebrow, a grin creeping back onto his face. "you're right," he admitted with a dramatic sigh. "physics was definitely not my strong suit."
you laughed, nodding knowingly. "whenever i’d ask you for help, you’d give these long-winded answers and sound so confident, but i could always tell you were just making it up."
felix groaned, dropping his head back dramatically. "stop," he whined, looking up at you with an exaggerated pout. "i just really liked you, okay?"
you smiled softly, nodding as you met his gaze. "i did too," you admitted, your voice quiet but sincere. "you were always so...felix. and even when you didn’t have all the answers, you somehow made everything feel like it was gonna be okay." the sincerity in your voice made his heart flutter. "but i should say, though, the summer crowd does get a view," you teased.
felix's breath hitched as your fingers toyed with the bottom hem of his shirt, the soft fabric slipping between your fingertips. his usual cocky confidence was slipping, and for a moment, you could see the rawness in his expression. he desperately wanted to stay calm but you had him completely off balance. his eyes darted between your hand and your face, but the words didn't come easily. he was so close now, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths, like he was trying to contain the tension building between you.
you looked up at him, your eyes locking. in that moment, there was no pretending, no distractions. felix’s mind was clearly racing—she’s killing me—you could practically hear it. his gaze lingered on your lips, the smallest hesitation before his eyes met yours again.
“so,” he began, his voice hushed, almost strained. “about that bonfire…”
he trailed off, his words barely more than a whisper, and you could tell he was using it as a distraction. but it didn’t work. felix leaned in just a fraction closer, his body drawn to you like a magnet, but stopping him right before he closed the distance.
“i’m up for it unless you have anything else planned,” you said, your voice light but with an edge. your fingers still brushed over the collar of his shirt, teasing, the touch barely there but enough to keep him riled up. “i’ll go wherever you go,” you murmured. you saw the way his pupils dilated, the shift in his expression that told you everything you needed to know. he was losing the battle.
“oh yeah?” felix whispered, his voice low and husky now. he leaned in slightly, just close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating off him. he was dangerously close now, his lips just centimeters from yours.
but just as your eyes fluttered closed, just as you both inched forward—bam—the sound of a cheerful voice broke the spell, slicing through the electric air between you two.
“here you go!” the bagel girl’s voice rang out, sweet and carefree, as she reappeared with your order in hand. "a dozen, just as you ordered!"
felix froze, his eyes snapping open, and breaking whatever spell you put him under just now. he turned to the bagel girl with a grateful smile, though his expression was a little less natural now. "thanks a lot," he said, the words sounding a little rushed. "we’ll see you tonight."
you stood there for a moment, fighting the smirk that wanted to creep onto your face. felix rubbed the back of his neck, still visibly affected, and shot you a quick, sheepish glance.
day 2 - 22:00
"one... two... three..." you muttered, shifting your weight as you adjusted your angle with each count. you had to lean back just enough to get a better view of the bird's nest on the rooftop, but the night sky above made everything appear blurry and shadowed. the darkness seemed to swallow up the delicate nest, making it harder to see than you'd expected. "they're all here!" you exclaimed with a sigh of relief, your heart settling as you spotted the large eggs nestled safely inside the woven twigs. "now, please put me down."
felix let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and familiar. he crouched down slightly, slowly lowering you until your feet touched the ground. "my parents should be done packing and ready to leave by now," he said, brushing his hands off and standing up straight with a satisfied stretch.
"let's go say goodbye," you replied, taking his hand in yours. the cool night air had a quiet stillness, and the weight of the moment seemed to settle over you as you gently pulled him toward the house, your fingers laced tightly with his.
inside, the house was bustling in a quiet sort of way. the living room was dotted with two carefully packed suitcases, bags filled with travel essentials, and little signs of the last-minute preparations that always seemed to rush by. felix's mom stood by the couch, smoothing out a stack of clothing, her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. she looked up as you entered, her face lighting up with a smile that was soft and welcoming. "there you two are! did you have a good time outside?" she asked, her voice gentle as always.
"yeah, we did," felix replied with a grin, giving your hand a soft squeeze. "all the baby birds are accounted for."
"that's wonderful," his mom said, her eyes sparkling with that ever-present twinkle of fondness. "you know, we’re getting a lot of crows this season. they’ve been very active around here."
felix's dad, who had been checking something on his phone, looked up and raised an eyebrow. "they might go after those gull eggs you two are so interested in," he warned with a playful glint in his eyes. "watch out for them, they like to come out in the rain."
felix’s mom smiled, shaking her head as she gave him a small push. "we should stop scaring them, dear," she said with a soft laugh. "we have a flight to catch."
you smiled warmly at them both, feeling the pang of saying goodbye. "have a fantastic trip!" you said, your voice filled with genuine warmth.
felix’s mom pulled you into a tight, affectionate hug, the kind that felt like home. "thank you," she said softly, kissing the top of your head before pulling back. "take care of each other while we're gone.” she then looked at her son and pulled him into a hug with felix’s dad.
"thanks for trusting me," felix said.
his mom responded first, her voice warm and reassuring as she gave him a tight squeeze. "we love you," she said.
felix’s dad clapped him on the back firmly. he leaned in, his voice low and meant only for his son. “she’s great, felix,” he said. “i’m proud of you.”
you didn’t catch the words, choosing to hang back near the door, giving them their moment. felix didn’t respond right away, but you caught the soft smile that crept onto his face, the way his eyes seemed to brighten just slightly as he held the hug a little longer. "i know," he murmured back, his voice quiet but sure.
finally, they pulled apart. felix’s dad adjusted his coat, clearing his throat as if to steady himself. “the house is stocked up,” he said in a firmer voice, slipping back into his practical role. “but make sure to buy whatever you need from the market.”
“thank you, dad,” felix replied, his smile now playful and easy again. “we’ll be fine.”
with one last round of hugs and warm smiles, his parents picked up their luggage and headed toward the door. you and felix followed, standing in the entryway as they wheeled their suitcases down the front steps. the yellow taxi idled at the curb, its engine humming softly in the night. his parents exchanged a few final words before the driver helped them load their bags into the trunk.
you and felix stayed on the porch as the taxi pulled away, its red tail lights glowing faintly against the darkened road. the engine hummed louder as it sped up, then grew quieter, the car shrinking into the distance until it disappeared around the corner. the stillness it left behind felt almost too big, wrapping around the two of you in the silence of the night.
felix exhaled, a sound that was part sigh, part laugh, and stuffed his hands into his pockets. he glanced at you, his expression unreadable for a moment, before a small, genuine smile curved his lips. "well," he said, his voice light, though you could still hear the lingering weight of the goodbye, "guess it’s just us now."
you didn’t answer, your eyes still fixed on the spot where the taxi had disappeared. the quiet around you felt heavy, like the world had gone still and was waiting for something to happen. your chest felt tight, your mind replaying the moment felix’s dad had mentioned the crows. you knew it had been a harmless comment, maybe even a joke, but the thought of the birds... it clung to you.
felix tilted his head slightly, his brow furrowing as he studied your face. “you okay?” he asked softly, breaking the silence. he reached out, his hand warm and steady as it rested lightly on yours.
you blinked, realizing you hadn’t moved, your fingers stiff and cold in his. “me? yeah,” you said, your voice a little too quick, a little too high. “um… i’m just a little shaken up.”
felix didn’t pull back, his hand staying where it was, grounding you. “by what?” he asked, his voice calm and patient, like he had all the time in the world for your answer.
you hesitated, feeling a little ridiculous now that you had to say it out loud. “the crows,” you admitted finally, your words barely above a whisper. “i don’t know.”
felix blinked in surprise before his lips quirked into a crooked smile. “yeah, crows. guess we’ll just have to keep an eye out for them, huh?”
“yeah,” you said quietly, your lips twitching into a faint smile. the tension in your shoulders eased slightly, and you glanced at him, grateful for his calm presence. “should we go?”
“bagel girl said it’s walking distance from here. i’ve got a pretty good idea where it is,” he replied, as he stepped toward the edge of the porch.
you followed him, the soft creak of the old wooden boards beneath your feet breaking the quiet of the night. the porch light flickered slightly, casting a warm but uneven glow over the small front yard. felix hopped down the steps first, his sneakers crunching softly against the gravel path that led to the street. then you stepped off the porch, your sandals scuffing against the gravel as you caught up to felix.
as you walked, the tranquil stillness of the evening began to shift. at first, it was barely noticeable—a faint vibration beneath your feet that made you pause for a moment, thinking it might just be the rhythm of your own footsteps. but then, as you continued, the sound grew louder, more distinct. the soft thudding transformed into a steady, rhythmic beat, resonating in your chest like the pulse of something alive.
“do you hear that?” you asked, squeezing felix’s hand lightly as you looked up at him.
he nodded, his eyes glinting with curiosity, and a grin spread across his face. “yeah. sounds like we’re close.”
the further you walked, the more the sound surrounded you, enveloping the quiet of the night. the bass grew stronger, its deep thrum underscored by the hum of voices and the occasional burst of laughter. the noise wasn’t chaotic; it was inviting, like a lure calling you forward.
turning a corner, the source of the sound finally came into view. a large bonfire burned brightly in the center of a clearing, its golden flames licking up toward the dark sky. the fire cast flickering shadows over the faces of the crowd gathered around it, making their features seem almost otherworldly in the dancing light. warmth radiated outward, pushing back the coolness of the night and wrapping around you like an embrace.
the scent of burning wood filled the air, mingling with the briny tang of the sea breeze that drifted in from somewhere close by. waves crashed faintly in the distance, their rhythm syncing with the beat of the music. strings of fairy lights were strung haphazardly between trees, their soft glow adding a touch of magic to the scene. laughter rippled through the group as someone poked at the fire with a long stick, sending sparks spiraling upward like tiny, golden fireworks.
as you approached, your attention was drawn to a guy frantically wrestling with a beer keg near the edge of the crowd. he was conventionally attractive, you would say. dirty blonde with blue eyes, tall, and tan, definitely not your type but he could 100% be a heartthrob back at school in sydney. the poor guy was losing a battle against the tap, beer squirting out in all directions as his hands slipped against the slick surface. his muttering, a mix of frustration and colorful language, carried over the music. every few seconds, he’d glance around like he was hoping someone—anyone—would step in to help.
you couldn’t help it—you turned to felix, stifling a laugh behind your hand. the sight was just too funny. “do you see that?”
felix followed your gaze and grinned, shaking his head. “that’s griffin sanders. he’s a total dumbass,” he said with a chuckle, his voice full of fond exasperation, like this wasn’t even the first time he’d witnessed something like this.
you laughed, the sound light as you both made your way deeper into the crowd. the bonfire was the heart of the gathering, its flames throwing warm, golden light over everything and everyone. the air was thick with the mingling scents of wood smoke, spilled beer, and salty sea air. laughter and music filled the space, the bassline vibrating faintly under your feet.
as you moved through the group, heads turned. felix, it seemed, was a familiar face. a few guys nodded at him in greeting, calling out quick, friendly remarks as you passed. but it was the way some of the girls reacted that caught your attention. their expressions lit up when they spotted him—bright eyes, wide smiles—but the moment they noticed you walking beside him, their enthusiasm dimmed. smiles faltered, and they glanced away quickly, feigning disinterest as if they hoped you hadn’t seen. you had seen, though, and you didn’t quite know how to feel about it.
felix didn’t seem to notice—or if he did, he didn’t let on. he navigated the crowd with ease, leading you toward a quieter spot near the bonfire. the logs arranged in a loose circle around the flames were worn smooth from use, and you both found a place to sit. the fire crackled, its warmth wrapping around you in gentle waves. flames leapt and twisted, their vibrant hues of orange and red mesmerizing against the backdrop of the dark sky.
the same guy who was fighting with the keg strolled up. felix looked up, his posture shifting slightly as recognition flickered across his face.
“it’s been a while, felix,” the guy said, his voice loud enough to cut through the surrounding noise. “looks like you brought a girl from sydney?”
felix smirked, gesturing toward you. “yeah, this is my girlfriend.”
“nice to meet you,” the guy said, turning his attention to you with a wink. “you can call me griff. so, how are you liking the beach, love?”
“it’s great,” you said, shifting slightly on the log. you glanced at felix for a moment before returning your attention to griff. “really beautiful. the kind of place that makes you forget about time, you know?”
griff laughed, the sound loud and boisterous. “spoken like someone who’s already been caught up in its charm. it’s what this place does to people. one minute you’re here for a weekend, and the next, you’re house-hunting.”
felix chuckled softly, “thanks for the sales pitch.”
griff waved a dismissive hand, his grin unwavering. “give it time, mate. she’s a keeper—you can tell.” before you could respond, he thrust a red plastic cup full of beer against felix’s chest. “here, i thought you might appreciate this.”
felix hesitated, his hand hovering near the cup but not taking it. “i, um…”
“come on, man. you used to drink all the time at these things,” griffin said, his tone a mix of coaxing and teasing. “no need to act all goodie in front of your dollface.”
you glanced at felix, your eyebrows drawing together. you’d never known him to drink—not once. your confusion must have shown on your face because felix glanced at you, his expression softening as if he could read the questions in your eyes.
“i’m actually good, thanks, griff,” felix said, his voice firm but polite. he shifted slightly on the log, leaning forward as if to place the cup back in griff’s hands.
“come on, felix. just one,” griffin persisted, waving off the refusal like it was nothing. “it’s only, like, two percent.”
felix sighed, a quiet exhale of resignation. you could tell he didn’t want to cause a scene. “you know what? i’ll take it for now,” he said, reluctantly taking the cup.
“that’s my boy,” griffin said, grinning as he clapped felix on the arm, the motion so aggressive it made felix wince slightly. he smiled awkwardly, clearly ready for this to end. but griff’s attention shifted to you next.
“and i’m definitely getting one for you,” griffin said, his grin widening. before you could protest, he was already jogging back toward the keg, weaving through the crowd with agility. you exchanged a look with felix, who rolled his eyes slightly, his lips curving into a lopsided smile.
within moments, griff was back, holding a freshly poured cup of beer. he placed it at your feet with a flourish, his grin as wide as ever. before you could say a word, a girl called his name—a sharp shout that made him turn. “duty calls,” he said, raising his hand in a quick goodbye. “don’t be strangers, yeah?”
both your eyes followed him as he disappeared into the crowd. felix let out a breath and glanced at you, a faint crease forming between his brows. his lips pressed into a sheepish half-smile, like he was trying to downplay his discomfort. “i’ve only ever drank like…a few times. last year. he’s making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be.”
you shook your head, offering a small, reassuring smile. “no, no, it’s fine. really. i don’t mind.” then, your gaze dropped to the red cup, sitting upright in the sand like a lonely monument to peer pressure. “it’s just… what do i do with this?” you added, nudging it lightly with your shoe.
felix followed your gaze, his shoulders relaxing a little. “like he said, it’s only 2 percent,” he said. then, before you could reply, he lifted the cup in his hand up to his mouth and downed all of it in one smooth motion.
you raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. “okay, mister. i guess you’re having mine too.” without waiting for a response, you picked up your untouched cup and handed it to him.
felix chuckled, his laughter low and rich, shaking his head as he took it from you. “if you insist,” he said, his tone light, teasing. he lifted your cup to his lips and began to drink again. the liquid sloshed slightly against the rim as he tilted his head back, the firelight cast golden shadows across his face, catching the faint crease between his brows and the sharp angles of his jaw.
you shouldn’t be finding him this hot right now, but you couldn’t help it. it was the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration, like he was making serious business with the beer. the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down each time he swallowed. he finished with a final gulp, lowering the cup and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand in one smooth motion.
completely unaware that you’d been watching him, he set the cup down in the sand and glanced at you. when he noticed you staring, he paused, his head tilting slightly. “what?” he asked, his voice breaking the quiet.
you blinked, startled out of your thoughts. “what?” you echoed.
his brows furrowed again, but this time in confusion, his gaze searching your face. “you’re looking at me like i have two heads or something.”
you blinked at him, a playful glint in your eye as you tilted your head. “is that a problem?” you asked, your tone light but teasing.
felix’s lips quirked into a smirk, his eyes narrowing slightly in that mischievous way that always made your heart race. “no,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “i like it.”
the way he looked at you then, his gaze lingering on your lips, sent a flutter through your chest. his expression softened just a touch, his smirk fading into something more vulnerable. the space between you seemed to shrink, the crackle of the fire fading into the background as the world blurred into just him.
you felt a magnetic pull, as though some invisible thread was drawing you closer to him. slowly, you leaned in, your eyes fluttering shut as your heart thudded loudly in your chest. felix mirrored your movement, his breath warm against your skin as he closed the gap.
just as your lips were about to meet, a loud, sharp explosion rang out—a loud burst of sound coming from the sky so sudden it made you jump. your eyes snapped open, and you turned your head quickly toward the source, your pulse racing.
before you could process what had happened, felix’s hand slid gently to your chin, his touch warm and firm as he guided your face back toward him. “don’t worry about that,” he murmured, his voice husky and low. his gaze locked onto yours, his expression intense and unyielding. “we’ve had enough interruptions today, don’t you think?”
and then, without hesitation, he kissed you.
the force of it sent a jolt through your body, his lips pressing against yours with a fervent hunger that left no room for doubt. it wasn’t soft like usual—it was demanding, like he’d been holding himself back all night and had finally given in. his hand remained on your chin, tilting your face toward him as he deepened the kiss, his other hand sliding to the small of your back to pull you closer.
your mind swirled, the rest of the world dissolving in the heat of his touch. his lips moved against yours with a rhythm that was both urgent and deliberate, his need for you evident in every motion.
his kiss deepened, parting your lips, and his tongue slid in, tasting of the faint, tangy bitterness of the beer he’d just consumed. the flavor mingled with the heat of his mouth, intoxicating in a way that had nothing to do with the drink. his hands found your waist, firm and steady, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. the pressure of his lips against yours was urgent, almost desperate, as if he couldn’t get enough of you, and the sensation sent a shiver racing down your spine.
you kissed him back with equal fervor, your fingers threading through the soft strands of his hair, tugging just enough to make him groan softly against your mouth. the sound was low and raw, vibrating between you. your body molded into his, heat radiating from him in waves that seemed to melt away the cool night air.
another loud explosion cracked through the sky, the sound reverberating in your chest and pulling you from the haze of the kiss. reluctantly, you broke apart, your breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts. felix’s lips lingered on yours for a fraction of a second longer, like he wasn’t quite ready to let go. his eyes fluttered open, dark and heavy with desire, as you both turned your heads toward the sky.
above, a firework burst in a brilliant cascade of color, its reds and golds spreading out like veins of light against the dark canvas of the night. the shimmering display reflected faintly in felix’s eyes, adding to the glow that already seemed to emanate from him.
but as you stared in awe, felix leaned back slightly, his gaze fixed not on the fireworks but on you. “see?” he murmured. “it’s not that interesting.”
you turned your gaze back to him, your chest still heaving slightly from the kiss, and swallowed hard, the reality of what just happened settling over you. your lips tingled from the intensity, and the heat radiating from your cheeks was enough to rival the fireworks still bursting above you.
you blinked, trying to process it all—the way his lips had moved against yours, the way your hands had seemed to know exactly where to go, threading through his hair like you’d done it a thousand times before. but you hadn’t. this was the first time. a full-on make out.
how did you even know how to do that? where had that come from? your mind raced with questions, all of them tumbling over each other in a chaotic jumble. had it been good for him, too? no, scratch that—it had to have been good. you’d felt the way his body responded to yours, the way his lips had been so urgent, so eager, like he was drinking you in.
you glanced at him again, his face now lit softly by the remnants of the fireworks. his lips were still slightly swollen, a faint flush coloring his cheeks. his gaze met yours, warm and steady, with a hint of something unspoken simmering beneath the surface.
“are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice carrying that raspy edge you hadn’t noticed before tonight. it was a sound that made your stomach flip all over again.
you nodded, but your mind betrayed you, still looping on the same thought: how did i just do that?
“i—” you started, but your voice cracked, and you pressed your lips together, suddenly shy. you looked down, realizing your hands were still resting against his chest. you could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips, fast but strong, and that tiny reassurance made you brave enough to speak again. “it happened so fast…i don’t know how—.” you breath hitched as you couldn’t speak anymore.
he chuckled, low and warm, and the sound sent a pleasant hum through your chest. “you don’t have to know,” he said, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart stutter. “you just have to feel.”
you looked at him, your breath hitching as his words settled over you. he wasn’t wrong. in that moment, nothing had been overthought or planned—it had just happened. natural. instinctive. perfect.
and somehow, that made it even better.
felix tilted his head toward you, furrowing his eyebrows. “it’s getting hot by this fire, don’t you think?” he asked.
you blinked, caught off guard. “i mean… yeah, it is pretty warm,” you replied, fanning yourself awkwardly—though you weren’t entirely sure it was just the fire causing him to get so red.
felix huffed a breath and grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt, lifting it to wipe his forehead. the casual movement exposed a sliver of his toned stomach, and your eyes immediately fell towards it, your heart skipping a beat. goodness gracious.
“i might need another beer to cool off,” he said, his words slightly slurred as he tossed the shirt back down.
you nodded quickly, not trusting yourself to speak. your gaze flickered back to him, trying to act normal—whatever that meant in this situation.
felix stood up, swaying slightly as he did. “come with me,” he said.
you stood up, and you followed him silently, wondering where this was going.
felix seemed a little unsteady on his feet, but his confidence never wavered. his steps were purposeful—until they weren’t. you saw it happen in slow motion.
“felix—” you started, noticing a guy standing in his path, holding a drink precariously close to his chest, but it was too late. before you could get the rest of your warning out, felix collided straight into him, sending the drink splashing down the front of the guy’s shirt.
“dude!” the guy exclaimed, holding his arms out in disbelief as the liquid soaked through his clothes.
felix blinked, then burst into laughter, the sound bright and unfiltered. “sorry, that’s—” he paused to catch his breath, still laughing. “that’s my bad, man.”
you cringed, stepping forward quickly. “why are you laughing? that’s not funny.” you said, with a serious tone. “so sorry by the way” you apologized to the guy.
but as you looked at felix, it hit you. this wasn’t felix—not the felix you knew, anyway. normally, he’d be mortified, apologizing profusely and trying to fix the situation. but right now, his laughter was carefree, almost careless. he was completely intoxicated. already?
you sighed, glancing at felix as he leaned heavily against you. maybe his tolerance is just really shitty, you thought, trying to rationalize how he’d gotten to this point so quickly. just as you were about to scold him again, you heard an all-too-familiar voice cutting through.
“how’s he holding up?” griffin’s voice was laced with amusement as he walked up to you both, his grin wide as he took in the scene. when his gaze landed on felix, his lips twitched, clearly trying to suppress a laugh.
felix attempted to sit up straighter, his eyes slightly unfocused but brimming with defiance. “i’m fine, griff,” he insisted, his voice slow and deliberate, as though he were concentrating hard on getting the words out. “100%. fine.”
you raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you watched felix’s obvious struggle to look composed. his usually smooth speech was stilted, his enunciation overly precise like he thought it would mask his tipsy state. it was clear he was trying to look tougher in front of the guy.
“really? because you don’t look fine,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. turning to griffin, you added, “he’s only had two drinks. i don’t understand why he’s like this already.”
griffin let out a low chuckle, glancing at felix before leaning slightly closer to you. “well,” he said with a smirk, “you should’ve known—these chinks can’t handle anything.”
you blinked, not fully processing griffin’s words at first. but as the weight of what he’d said sank in, your stomach twisted. you turned to him, your voice steady but laced with disbelief. “i’m sorry, what did you just call him?”
felix let out an unexpected laugh, the sound catching you completely off guard. it wasn’t his usual warm chuckle—it was light, careless, and entirely out of place. your stomach twisted, a mix of disbelief and anger bubbling up inside you.
griffin shifted uncomfortably but quickly masked it with a grin. “hey, calm down. i didn’t mean anything by it. you see, even your boy is laughing”
the casual dismissal from both of them made your blood boil. your feelings toward griffin shifted in an instant. just hours ago, he had seemed harmless, even likable. but now? how could he so casually toss around that word, as if it were nothing?
you took a step closer, your eyes blazing with anger. “no,” you said, your voice low but trembling with fury. “what the hell did you just say?”
griffin raised his hands, feigning innocence. “okay, calm down, dollface. i’m not blaming it all on his tolerance, alright? you know the beer couldn’t have been two percent. why the hell would it be here if it was? honestly, i’m surprised he didn’t notice when he drank it.”
felix, still swaying slightly but clearly trying to sound coherent, muttered, “it’s hard to tell, griffin. it didn’t taste that different…”
you turned to him sharply, your frustration boiling over. “you can shut up,” you snapped, the words leaving your mouth before you could stop them. your voice was harsher than you intended, but you were too angry to care.
felix blinked at you, startled, and he opened his mouth as if to say something, then seemed to think better of it, instead averting his gaze to the ground.
you turned back to griffin, your eyes narrowing. “you knew it wasn’t light, and you pressured him to drink,” you snapped, your voice sharp with anger and protectiveness.
griffin shrugged, his indifference infuriating. “he would’ve done it regardless of how strong it was. looks like, you don’t know him enough. sydney’s not like the beach, dollface. this is just a bit of fun. no harm done.” he said, his tone dismissive. he even had the audacity to attempt a smile, though it fell flat against your glare.
“fun?” you repeated, your voice rising. “you call this fun?” your chest tightened with rage, your words spilling out before you could stop them. “i’ve only met you tonight, griffin, and i already know you’re a coward. it’s easy to stand there, acting like nothing matters, tossing around slurs and getting people drunk without their consent. but you know what? that’s not fun. that’s pathetic. and it says a hell of a lot more about you than it does about felix.”
griffin's face twisted into a sneer. "watch it," he warned.
"you watch it," you retorted, stepping closer.
the fire crackled beside you, casting long, flickering shadows over griffin's face. his eyes glinted with anger, the light reflecting off his sneer. the crowd around continued to chatter, seemingly completely unaware of the tension between you and griffin, besides a few. the distant sound of waves crashing against the shore seemed louder in the stillness, a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere.
griffin’s sneer deepened, and in a swift motion, he raised a hand as if to make a point—or worse. instinctively, you flinched, squinting your eyes as your body braced for any impact. before anything could happen, a hand clamped down on griffin’s shoulder from behind.
"dude, stop it, you're so drunk!" his friend said, his voice firm, his grip tight on griffin's arm.
“i was just trying to scare her, relax,” griffin slurred, his tone defensive but far from apologetic.
felix stood up quickly, without stumbling, and grabbed griffin by the collar. his movements were now swift, fueled by an adrenaline rush, contrasting to his drowsiness. "don't touch her!" he yelled, his voice shaking with rage. the firelight cast sharp shadows across his face, highlighting the intensity in his eyes.
griffin struggled against felix's hold, his face contorted with anger and defiance. "get your hands off of me!" he snarled, his voice slurred yet still threatening.
felix gritted his teeth, pulling griffin closer, their faces inches apart. you could see the raw emotion in felix's eyes, a mix of fury and protectiveness. griffin's friends quickly stepped in, pulling the two apart. their expressions were a mix of concern and urgency, trying to defuse the situation before it escalated further. felix's chest heaved with anger, his eyes blazing with a fiery intensity that was hard to ignore.
“come on, felix. you look insane right now,” you said, your tone softer, but desperate. his eyes flicked toward you, the fury in them softening just slightly.
his breath was uneven, chest rising and falling rapidly, but he nodded, the tension in his jaw easing ever so slightly. without saying a word, you reached out, pulling him gently away from the crowd. you didn’t look back at griffin—couldn’t bring yourself to—but you heard his voice ring out from behind you, bitter and full of venom.
“yeah, walk away!” griffin shouted, his words laced with resentment. “chinks never belonged here anyway!”
a chill ran through you at his words, and you froze. your hands clenched into fists, but you didn’t turn around. some of the people around the bonfire had gone eerily silent at his words, the air thick with discomfort and tension. you imagined the faces of everyone who could hear it, all the people who could have been affected—felix, some of the teenagers at the bonfire, and even chris if he was here.
the fact that griffin, of all people, would throw out such a loaded term without a second thought was sickening. the thought of how casually he had tossed it out, with no respect or understanding for its weight, made your stomach turn.
you felt felix beside you, his hand on your back, his touch warm despite the storm of emotions swirling inside you. you finally took a deep breath, turning your head only slightly to look at him, the frustration and anger still simmering within you. he was still angry, his face tight, but there was a softness in his eyes that made you sigh in relief.
“we need to get out of here,” you muttered, your voice a little shaky from everything that had just happened.
felix's body remained tense as you continued to guide him away, his breathing gradually evening out. the sounds of laughter and music from the bonfire seemed distant and muted in comparison to the pounding of your heart.
the path away from the bonfire was dimly lit, the shadows of the trees casting eerie shapes on the ground. as you walked, the cool night air began to soothe your heated emotions.
you glanced over at felix, his jaw tight, his gaze fixed forward. he looked lost in thought, but there was something fragile about the way he walked, his posture not quite as solid as usual. he wasn’t the carefree, laughing felix you knew, and that made your chest ache.
just as you were about to open your mouth to say something, anything, you heard a voice call out behind you.
"hey, guys!"
you both turned, startled, to see the bagel girl from this morning hurrying toward you. her hair was pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she was wearing the same hoodie from earlier. you hadn’t even seen her at the bonfire, but now here she was, catching up to you with a concerned look on her face.
"are you two okay?" she asked, her voice soft but filled with genuine worry.
you blinked, the sudden intrusion snapping you out of the fog of anger and confusion. you hadn’t expected anyone to notice, let alone come looking for you.
felix stood a little straighter, but his expression was guarded, his eyes scanning her for a moment. “yeah,” he said slowly, though his voice lacked conviction. "we’re fine. just... needed to get away for a bit."
the girl shook her head, clearly still upset. “i’ve known griffin since grade 3,” she said, her voice growing more heated, “and he’s always been a jerk. i can’t believe he almost hit you, honey.” she grabbed your hands, her grip warm and reassuring. "are you sure you're okay?" she asked, her gaze searching yours for any sign of discomfort. you felt her concern washing over you, and something in your chest softened.
“yeah,” you said with a smile, though it was small, still shaken from the tension of the past few minutes. “i’m fine. just... everything happened so fast.”
she cooed softly, her eyes full of sympathy as she pulled you into a warm hug. "aw, sweetie. i’m so glad you’re okay. please, if you need anything, talk to me, alright? you know where i’ll be."
the embrace felt so genuine, and in that moment, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection for her. you smiled into her shoulder, feeling comforted by her warmth. “thank you, i love you.”
she pulled back just enough to look at you, her lips curling into a soft smile. "love you too," she said. “okay, good night. i’m gonna go talk to that dick. he’s gonna hear it from me.”
she gave you one last reassuring smile before walking off, her figure disappearing into the darkness as she made her way toward griffin. felix’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, but then he looked back at you, his face unreadable.
you both started walking again, the silence hanging heavy between you. finally, the weight of it was too much, and you couldn’t hold back any longer. “i still can’t believe that happened,” you muttered, your voice thick with frustration. “griffin is such a dick. i can’t believe he said that stuff. and lying to you about the beer? how can someone be so reckless and insensitive?”
you exhaled sharply, your mind spinning as the words poured out. “and being racist? seriously, who talks like that? he’s got no respect for anyone, no decency.” you shook your head, the anger still simmering beneath the surface.
as you looked over at felix, you realized he wasn’t paying attention. his gaze was distant, his expression almost blank, and it felt like you were talking to the air.
you stopped walking for a moment, taking a deep breath and forcing the frustration to settle in your chest. “nevermind,” you muttered, your voice quiet now. you fell into a heavy silence, your steps slow as you resumed walking beside him.
the only sounds were the crunch of your footsteps on the pavement and the distant murmur of the bonfire party, which felt so far away now. you didn’t know what was going on in felix’s head, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that something wasn’t quite right.
“felix?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you stopped and stood in front of him. his eyes, glossy and unfocused, met yours, and you felt an unexpected pang of concern.
he wiped at his eyes with a trembling hand, but it only made the tears smear across his cheeks. “i think i’m drunk,” he said, his voice quivering, the weight of his emotions slipping through the cracks of his carefully built exterior.
you tried to keep the situation light, offering a small smile as you nodded. “that’s highly possible,” you agreed gently, but the smile didn’t quite reach your eyes as you studied him. “but what’s wrong?”
felix took a shaky breath, his shoulders hunching slightly as if the weight of his own emotions was almost too much to bear. "chris always tells me i cry after i drink,” he said, his voice barely a whisper now, like it was something he hadn’t allowed himself to admit until just this moment.
"come here," you murmured, your voice gentle but firm, as you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. his body was still trembling, and you could feel the vulnerability radiating from him in waves. it was such a contrast to the usual felix, the one who always seemed to hold everything together.
he hesitated for a moment, then spoke in a quiet, shaky voice, “is anyone watching?”
you pulled him in a little tighter, your fingers brushing over his back, trying to offer him some sense of comfort. “no one’s watching, felix,” you said softly, giving him a reassuring squeeze. it wasn’t that you were lying—it was the truth. the streets were empty, and the bonfire party felt miles away, a distant memory now.
you knew him better than anyone. you’d seen him cry before, and you knew how soft his heart was. it made sense that this was how his body was reacting to the alcohol.
“y/n…” his voice wavered, the words slipping out in a slow, slurred confession. “i love you. to the ends of this earth. i’m gonna marry you one day.”
you froze for a split second and you could tell from the way his words stumbled that this wasn’t a moment of clarity—it was the liquor talking.
you pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “not right now, felix.”
“no please,” he quivered, almost in a whine.
"we can talk about this tomorrow, okay?" you stopped and stood in front of him, putting your hands on his chest.
he nodded, his eyes earnest. "promise?" his fingers lightly touching your waist.
"i promise,"
#felix fic#stray kids#skz x reader#skz#straykids x reader#stray kids x reader#skz fluff#stray kids fluff#felix skz#felix x reader#felix fluff#lee felix x reader#stray kids imagines#felix imagines#lee felix imagines#lee felix fluff#lee felix#skz imagines#stray kids fanfic#stray kids scenarios#skz reactions#stray kids reactions#skz fanfic#felix#lee felix series#fanfic series#felix series#slow burn#highschool au#summer fanfic
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steve harrington helps his nurse fiancee get ready for work when she's called in too early ☄. *. ⋆
wc: 1.3k
warnings/about: reader gets called in early for a bus crash, no description tho. fluff, breakfast is made, steve harrington my house husband <3 set in like 1989, sorry if there’s inaccuracies i wasn’t born yet lol
a/n: omg its finally winter break, and then I got sick, but it was christmasssss so I got a new laptop. i shall be a menace made of clicky keys
—
You wake up to the tinny ring of the phone by your and Steve’s bed. You barely have enough time to compute what’s going on, what time it is, before you have the pale green plastic pushed to the side of your face, your own fingers gripping the plastic loosely.
You squint at your alarm clock and make sure that you’re not late for work. Considering the fact that your shift wouldn’t start until 10:00 AM, and the short hand of your alarm clock is hovering around the 5. Unless Steve decided to dose you with a horse tranquilizer, you’re sure you’re being called in early.
“Hello?” You rasp out silently. You’ve learned that Steve sleeps like he’s been given horse tranquilizers. You’re sure that he’s slept through an earthquake before.
“Hello,” You hear a familiar voice drawl through the handset. “—is this Miss [L/N]?” Is it Amy or Priscilla? You’re too tired to compute that information, other than the fact that it’s a coworker.
“Yeah, Mhm.” You say a little more clearly as you prop yourself up on your elbow, your adjacent hip digging into the mattress beneath you.
“So, unfortunately, there was a bus crash right outside of town, and the nurse-to-patient ratio is just… completely out of whack. Would you be able to come in? We’re willing to pay you overtime for this.” The voice explains through the phone. You figure it’s Priscilla talking since she’s the chattier one.
You stare at the clock, your log of a fiancée, the ceiling, and then the window before sighing. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that. I’ll be there within the hour or so.” You mumble into the handset with your head hung.
You know you’ll be abusing that staff room coffee machine the second you get there, so you don’t bother making your way into the kitchen once you get out of bed. You plunk the handset back onto the boxier part of the phone before stretching your body so hard that you have to sit back down on the edge of the bed.
A few deep breaths and some slower movements later, you’re starting the shower. You strip yourself of the nice pajama set Steve bought you for your most recent birthday before stepping under the shock of the water.
You go about your shower routine for the day, your tired hands grazing the lathered loofah all over your body until you deem yourself clean enough for work. You step out, dry off, and wrap yourself in your robe before venturing into the closet.
After putting on your starched whites, which Steve so dutifully washed for you, you’re in front of the mirror trying to make it look like you’re not running on an inadequate amount of sleep. It’s easier said than done, or so you’ve figured out. However, you feel lucky that your hospital has allowed you to switch from dresses and skirts to white, open-collared shirts and trousers.
While brushing your teeth, you watch the bathroom door behind you slowly creak open. By the time Steve shows his tired face in the gap, you’re already making dead eye contact with him in the mirror. You’ve been caught.
Steve’s too tired to be stern. Instead, he gets clingy. He lets out a yawn before covering your shoulders with his hands, and then pressing the front of his left hip to your right glute. You continue the movement of brushing your teeth and gums as he starts pressing lazy kisses to your neck.
“What’s with the getup?” He mumbles into your shoulder blade. The corners of your mouth turn up around your toothbrush before you spit out the white foam.
“They’ve called me in early.” You say matter-of-factly, to his dismay. He lets out a soft whine before returning to his posture to normal.
“You weren’t going to tell me?” He asks without any heat behind it. For this time of year and time of day, he’s either too soft or tired for it.
“I was..” You say around your toothbrush before finishing up, going to brush your tongue last. You spit out the last of the water and put your toothbrush back in its holder. “..just before I was going to leave.”
“Like your foot was going out the door?” He asks as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. Again, there’s no malice in his tone or anything. He wishes you woke him up, but that’s a hard enough feat on a weekend. Oftentimes he wants to rub your shoulders before you even think about moving.
“Probably.” You say with a brandish smile. You take out your compact and do something quick about the lack of life you have around your eyes. Ooh, shimmery.
You pin your hair out of your face and tie it up accordingly, then pin your hat on before turning to him with a soft, glossed smile. He doesn’t look as nearly as awake as you do, but, you feel the way he looks. You give him a kiss so that your lips match his, then smile even harder.
“You should have told them no,” He mumbles out as you leave the bathroom in search of your shoes. “you have a shift later today anyways, so like…” Steve says as he follows you.
“Yes, but there was a bus crash, and I’m getting paid overtime.” You explain gently as you tie your shoes. You feel your stomach gurgle and growl as you bend to do so, and Steve just can’t have that.
“Want me to make you something to eat before you leave?” He asks softly, his hand going to the small of your back as you finish the bow.
“Mm.. Something quick. I’m supposed to be there soon.” You say softly as you rub the back of your neck. You feel a kind hand on you, a wave of disappointment, and then hear the sounds of socked feet out of the bedroom, then down the hallway. You stifle a laugh when you hear a thud, and a soft “Ow” come from your significant other.
One more look over in the mirror later, you’re walking out of your bedroom. You have that awful feeling that you’re forgetting something before you spot your bag on the counter. You smile at Steve and the way he’s standing in front of the toaster like he’s the one that’s running late.
“Thank you, honey.” You say softly, mirroring his pose. You quit the getup soon enough and go to return some of his clinginess from this morning. Your lips leave behind a glossy ghost on his neck, but he doesn’t wipe it away.
He grumbles something in response to your words of gratitude, and you only smile wider. You consider sneaking him into work with you. Men can be nurses now, right? You ask yourself. You press a few more kisses to his cheek and neck for good measure before pulling away, still smiling.
In the dim kitchen light, you trace the shapes on his face with your eyes. The points of his nose, the angle of his jaw. You feel a pit well in your chest when you realize that you have to leave for work in just a few minutes. He’s so kind to you, that you start to feel guilty. You know that he probably wants you back in bed, even more than you do but… duty calls.
Sooner than later, he has a plate with peanut butter toast and a banana on the side. You eat it happily, but carefully (so as to not stain your uniform), and make sure that you don't have any stray crumbs on your face, or starched whites before you leave. You make light conversation, ask what the rest of his plans for the day are, and put your plate in the dishwasher.
You make sure that he knows you love him, and that you’ll stay safe. You try to call him once you get to work, but there’s no answer. You smile to yourself, knowing he’s asleep in some uncomfortable position on the couch. You carry on with your day and count the minutes until you get home. (540 and counting.)
#steve harrington#stranger things#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington x y/n#steve harrington fan fiction#steve harrington x you#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington x nurse!reader#nurse!reader#fluff#stranger things steve#stranger things fluff#steve harrington fluff#househusband#house husband steve harrington#robin buckley#jax’s blurbs
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sorry this category is a bit of a mess- some aren't that short but they are all smutty! you can find the rest of the posts under the tag 'grapejuicebluesrry 2024 fic rec'.
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love, lust, and everything in between (9K) by Thisishowitends
“After everything you’ve done today,” Louis pauses, grabbing both of Harry’s ankles and spreading his legs further apart, leaving everything on display, “You deserve to have your legs tied up too.”
Or, Harry is greedy, and Louis did not train his sub to be a brat.
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Like Waters Poured Into One Jar (17K) by jishler | @jishlerfics
“Haz,” he said, “do you like being held down?”
Taking a shaky breath, Harry finally looked Louis in the eyes. “I think so.”
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taste on my tongue (just can't get enough of you) (4K) by messyjessy08
“Babe?” Louis asks, running a hand through Harry’s hair, soothingly. “What is it?”
Harry shakes his head, teeth digging into his bottom lip, sharply. “My—it’s—”
Louis’ eyebrows furrow in confusion, “What, Harry?”
He pulls a hand up to his chest, pressing hard against one of his pecs, “My fucking—her crying’s making them—Lou.”
Louis gasps, understanding. He reaches a hand up, pushing Harry’s aside, and thumbs gently across Harry’s nipple, somehow already dark and swollen, without having touched them once. “Harry,” He says in a low voice, chest rumbling at the sharp gasp Harry makes.
“Lou, they’re fucking—’m leaking.”
(Harry and Louis just had a baby and it's been a while since they've had sex.)
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And I spend my time trying not to feel it (but what would you do if I went to touch you now) (14K) by refusethyname | @refusethyname28
It was now Niall’s turn to spin the bottle and after a swift spin, it landed on Harry. That familiar glimmer Louis had seen in Niall’s eyes before this evening made its appearance once more and Louis knew he was fucked. He wasn’t sure what Niall was planning, but it sure as hell was going to involve him as well as Harry.
“Oh Harry,” Niall grinned, clearly amused, “your challenge tonight is that you have to call your right-hand player ‘daddy’ for the rest of the evening.”
Everyone’s eyes shifted from Harry to Louis and it was then that Louis realised that he was Harry’s right-hand player.
Or the NYE fic that involves a lot of pining, a drinking game and a daddy kink.
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In Your Wettest Dreams (26K) by Anonymouis
Harry knows Louis wants to sleep with him. He’s been trying to get into his pants from the night they first met, and when that didn’t work, he took second best and fucked his ex. The more Louis tries, the less Harry wants to sleep with him.
If he’s being honest, though, he's always wondered what Louis is like in bed and he probably would have slept with him by now if he wasn’t such a twat. He’s heard the noises that come from Louis’ room anytime he’s brought one of his conquests home. See, that right there, is the issue. Louis thinks just because he’s devilishly fit, charming, soft but hard in all the right ways, and captain of the bloody footie team, he can have anyone he wants. Sadly, he’s not far off base, but Harry promised himself that Louis would never have him.
“Do you really want me to leave you alone, Harry?” Louis asks, crowding into his space until his toes hit Harry’s.
Harry swallows hard, losing his composure for just a second. Then, staring directly into Louis’ sparkling blue eyes he bluntly says, “Yes.”
“Okay,” is all Louis says.
Or: The one where Harry gets stuck on Louis’ lap on the ride home from a night of clubbing.
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you can choke her (if she's asking) (11K) by l0vestruckharry
Placing himself beside Harry, Louis hovered over him, observing how beautifully debauched he looked. His hair was messy, his eyes almost bloodshot from crying, and his mouth puffed up and delightfully bruised. Louis let his hand carefully touch him, tracing his nose, his lips, and his jaw, admiring him.
“Pretty little thing, always so good for me,” Louis murmured quietly. His fingertips were now sliding down his face, following the line of his slender, long neck, caressing his collarbones before trailing down to the rest of his body.
“Stay still for me, baby. Let me touch you.”
or, harry interrupts louis during a meeting, parading around the office wearing an obscenely short dress. louis takes full advantage of it and punishes harry accordingly.
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Colorful Hearts (20K) by Larrysmomfics
In a world where orgasmic emissions change color depending on the person’s mood, Louis Tomlinson’s semen has only ever been blue. At the recommendation of his doctor he attends a support group for people with similar conditions. The leader of Colorful Hearts, a therapist named Harry, is positively swoonworthy and sets Louis at ease right away. Needless to say that Louis isn’t aware yet that so much more than the color of his spunk is about to change.
OR
The Rainbow jizz fic, a mood ring orgasms AU
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discover more fics under the cut!
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Can't get my fill, so I'll take yours (3K) by CopyofaDreamer (DaysLikeMasquerades)
Harry wants to make Louis cum until he passes out.
Louis wants to feel Harry fill him up with more than just cum.
They compromise and do both.
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In-flight entertainment (6K) by lunarheslwt | @lunarheslwt
A flight is a rather inconvenient place to be when Harry is desperate to relieve himself, until the desperation gets turned into something exciting by Louis. Aka watersports ensues.
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Fuck You Better, Baby (12K) by larry_hiatus | @larryhiatus
When Harry is spotted at a bar with a mystery girl, Louis is determined to prove that he’s the only one who knows what Harry really needs. He’s in for a surprise, however, when Harry shows him which of them is actually the needy one…
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Yesterday’s gone (it’ll be better than before) (3K) by red_panda28 | @red-pandaaa
Leo’s frown. His attempt to call after Louis. Ed saying he was surprised to see Louis here. All those little moments fell into place the moment he spotted Harry Styles.
Harry Styles, his former bandmate.
Harry Styles, who he hadn’t seen face to face in over three years.
Harry Styles, who was technically still Harry Tomlinson-Styles.
OR
Louis and Harry run into each other at the Euros, there's a mix up at the hotel and they have a past
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i’m not ever going back (4K) by angelsueavenue
It’s Harry’s first time going into sub-space, and when he gets Louis as the alpha who’ll be fucking him into it in front of a camera for millions to see, he knows there’s no other insanely gorgeous alpha he’d rather have take care of him.
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Bittersuite (2K) by mygirlcrush | @pinknblueforever
louis needs to calm down after the euro 2024 final..........
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SHE (11K) by blessin_n_curse
“Doll, come here,” he says, patting his lap.
It’s needless to say that Harry almost flees down the stairs. He doesn’t care that he might seem – probably seems – overeager. Who wouldn’t do the same if Louis were to invite them to sit on his lap?
The one where Harry tries his best to be a brat. Or the one where Louis can't stop fonding over his baby.
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hello, lovers (3K) by eynap | @panye
Name: Shawn
Age: 24
Pronouns: He/him
Desires: light praise kink, light daddy kink
Oh. He could do that. Probably pretty well, too. Niall sits up on his bed a little taller and adjusts his headphones, pressing the green accept button.
Or, Niall is a phone sex operator at Hello Lovers hotline, and Shawn is his last caller on Valentine’s Day.
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let me see how wild it get (17K) by alwaysxlarrie | @alwaysxlarrie
Harry's success rate with being able to orgasm from masturbation was abysmally low, but she was determined to get there. She tried to actively avoid thinking about the fact that her best friend, Louis, had offered to help her if need be. Key words: tried to.
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Wake Up All Wet (like we're dripping in gold) (9K) by larry_hiatus | @larryhiatus
Harry tends to wet the bed sometimes. His boyfriend Louis secretly finds it hot and likes to get off with Harry’s pants while Harry is in the shower. After Harry accidentally gets Louis wet too one night, Louis’ secret alone time doesn’t go quite as planned.
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subverting expectations (2K) by disgruntledkittenface | @disgruntledkittenface
“Do you have a cigarette?”
If Harry thought the question would shock Louis, she would've been wrong. Louis doesn’t even look startled, even though it’s the first time one of them has spoken. She smirks at Harry in the mirror.
“We’re not supposed to do that anymore,” she says, her raspy voice full of mirth. Like she’s amused at Harry or something. “It’s bad for the paintings or whatever.”
“And you’re not a bad girl,” Harry says, turning to face Louis. She leans her hip against the counter, determined to both gain the upper hand and not think about why she wants to. “Right?”
Harry goes to the ladies’ room at the Met Gala expecting a cigarette and a break from the boredom. Instead, she gets Louis.
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never just the tip (6K) by journeytothepast | @suckerforhome
Harry believes alphas can't control themselves. Louis proves him wrong.
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drain me (6K) by boyfriendstages | @boyfriendstages
Harry’s obsession with Louis is perfectly normal. Until it’s not.
or, saltburn bathtub scene inspired smut with lots and lots of long buried feelings.
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Let Me Be Your Last First Piss (6K) by LiveLaughLoveLarry (SoLongAndThanksForAllTheFic) | @loveislarryislove
“You fucking planned this, didn’t you,” Louis growls against Harry’s mouth. “Knew exactly what you were doing from the first picture, you little shit.”
Harry laughs, his breath warm and soft against Louis’ face. “Only partly,” he says again. “I was just drunk and lonely and pining and wanted to send you a dick pic that didn’t seem like I was just sending you a dick pic.”
“So sending a pissing pic seemed more normal and casual?”
Harry digs his nails into Louis’ scalp, making Louis shiver. “I didn’t say it made sense,” he says, “just that I was crazy into you and drunk enough to do something about it.” He shrugs. “I wasn’t expecting to discover I had a piss kink along the way.”
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Booked and Busy (9K) by InsightfulInsomniac | @insightfulinsomniac
Booking the Away from Home Festival is the biggest opportunity of Harry’s up-and-coming career to date. It’s just an added bonus that the festival is hosted and headlined by his longtime celebrity crush, world-renowned rockstar Louis Tomlinson.
Despite his excitement, doesn’t expect Louis to watch his set. Or to visit his dressing room ahead of his show to wish him good luck.
Or to flirt with him.
But seeing as this is the most monumental night of Harry’s life to date, he might as well make the most of it.
***
A fluffy, smutty PWP where Harry performs at AFH 2024 and gets a lot more than he bargained for.
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baby, you're my only reason (6K) by zouisclimax | @zouisclimax
Harry's famous and Louis' a big fan.
or, "you're a celebrity and you just broke up and i tweeted you a selfie and said "date me" and you thought i was serious?" au
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stop the world ('cause i wanna get off with you) (12K)by devilinmybrain (venomedveins) | @thedevilinmybrain
Five times Louis and Harry get walked in on at the worst time, and one time Louis makes sure they don't.
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We're Not Who We Used To Be (7K) by jaerie
Louis comes back to his childhood home and sees an old friend who has changed quite a lot since the last time they saw each other.
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the relentless barrister (10K) by louisplumpyass | @louisplumpyass
Barrister Louis overhears his neighbour making explicit comments about his husband, Professor Harry. Fueled by a mix of anger and protectiveness, Louis decides to confront the neighbour, but not before he passionately reminds Harry who he belongs to.
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Only Angel (5K) by starryhaze | @starryhaze28
“If I’m an angel, what does that make you?” The angel asks.
“A sinner,” Louis answers.
ʚɞ
or the one where Louis is in Japan and stumbles upon a boy wearing angel wings
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Peeping (16K) by jacaranda_bloom | @jacaranda-bloom
Louis hates his job as an accountant and desperately wants to be a teacher. Of course, that would mean going back to uni, which he can’t afford if he wants to keep up the mortgage payments on his house. It’s Niall that suggests Louis gets a housemate.
Harry is great around the house, loves cooking and cleaning, and everything is fine, lovely even. That is until Louis locks himself out of the house, and in his attempts to get inside, he stumbles upon Harry wanking to a video of Louis playing footy.
OR Louis has a thing for his housemate, Harry is under the impression that clothing around the house is an optional extra, and neither of them seem to be able to stop wanking long enough to get their shit together and admit their true feelings.
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Get Out of My Kitchen (3K) by cc_horan28 | @cc-horan28
“Get out of my kitchen,”
Harry quickly stalked over, poking his finger into Louis’ ribs. “Lou, you’re- I’m trying to cook over here. Out of my kitchen. I mean it. Out. Take the whole bloody block of it if you must but don’t-”
“Your kitchen, huh? Say that again,” Louis challenged, tilting his head to the side, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
OR
The one where Harry has had it with his husband interrupting him, but he isn't having any of his cheek.
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Let Me Touch You Where Your Heart Is (3K) by InsightfulInsomniac | @insightfulinsomniac
Harry arches an eyebrow in his direction. “You really think I’m going to keep the match on while you fuck me?”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Louis mutters, but he’s grinning and quick to make amends. “I’m only joking, darling. Whatever you want.”
“If you had said the match was good, I would’ve sucked you off while you watched.” Harry replies airily, enjoying the groan that he pulls from Louis. “I am kind about the Euros. But since you said it’s boring, I figured I’d turn on something more interesting.”
******
Harry and Louis fuck in the back of the car on the way to the Euros. They use the television screen for more than a little background noise thanks to Louis’ private folder.
Aka an indulgent PWP inspired by Louis’ recent Instagram story.
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I Like to Watch (9K) by larry_hiatus | @larryhiatus
If there’s one thing Harry loves, it’s watching his husband Louis get fucked by other men. After picking up a lad called Zayn who is baffled by this concept, the three men are in for a wild night.
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Lose myself between your legs (2K) by lunarheslwt | @lunarheslwt
Louis has a thing for Harry’s thighs, especially Harry’s thighs in tights. Written for day 7 of kinktober, prompt: intercrural sex, slick kink.
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Feryt: Tangled by Sensations (1K) by littleohs | @littleohs
“Breathe.”
Even after listening to Louis, Harry couldn't do it. His breaths were erratic and he took the hand the alpha offered him with trepidation, as if he was going to disappear at any moment. He clenched his body and the sensation made his eyes fill with tears, his jaw clenched tightly and the burning spread even further in his gut, endless.
or, day two of kinktober: figging
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i'm going out tonight (3K) by disgruntledkittenface | @disgruntledkittenface
Louis hasn’t been appreciating his boyfriend Harry. He only realizes it when Harry takes matters into his own hands.
Inspired by Bejeweled by Taylor Swift.
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I Can't Change (But I Wanna Be Yours) (19K) by Cy_v
He was being ridiculous, he was well aware. He’s started to feel like he’s back in secondary school, for fucks sake. It’s just a tiny tattoo, being done by some random, completely normal, not at all excessively hot, or hopelessly irresistible-
“You still ok, Haz?”
And ok, maybe Harry was lying to himself. Because that? Using his nickname on him? Well that should be illegal. But Louis was still looking up at him, the poster child for innocence, and he was waiting for a response. So Harry tried his best not to choke on his tongue.
...
Or the one where Harry has anxiety and let's Zayn talk him into getting a tattoo, and that's fine except for the fact that Louis is his tattoo artist, and well…
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I just wanna be yours (wanna be yours, wanna be yours) (3K) by Dreaminrainbows | @dreaminrainbows
Harry studies his sixteen year old self’s face for a long moment and it's truly pathetic how in fourteen years nothing has really changed.
He's had enormous success throughout the years, has a couple of Grammys to prove it, yet he'd still be Louis Tomlinson’s vacuum cleaner in a blink of an eye. Louis does like his coffee hot and Harry would gladly be his coffee pot.
He groans again, throwing his phone to the other side of the bed. He's been trying to get a grip on himself for the past fourteen years, the only grip he's gotten is on his man.
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i'm a couple glasses in (3K) by justanothershadeofblue (zjofierose) | @justanothershadeofblue
Harry winds a finger into one of the curls that grazes his shoulder as he stares at the jars of colored ribbons on the table in front of him. Pink, black, orange, green, and white. Red, blue, teal, and yellow. Each ribbon a different color, each ribbon a different…permission. Encouragement?
Harry pulls at his lip, considering.
Pink, he thinks, at least for the evening. A pale blue. The braided blue, white, and green. And… he lets his hand hesitate over the jar, then takes a deep breath and shoves it in.
Yellow.
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Bearing secrets (2K) by lunarheslwt | @lunarheslwt
The door, to his horror and illicit thrill, was ajar. He shouldn’t have paused. He shouldn’t have taken a better look and known just how wide open it was. His eyes shouldn’t have strayed inside to peek at the view.
So maybe Louis was to blame this time, but he felt entirely helpless.
Whatever Louis had been expecting to see, whatever he could’ve imagined, it wasn’t this. His mouth hung open, throat going dry.
Because there was Harry, on his hands and knees, stripped naked. Hovering over a giant bear plushie with his knees bracketing it, hips moving slowly. A plushie that in fact Louis had won him at one of those stupid fair games. Louis’ attention fell traitorously to his hard cock that was being pushed against the soft, fuzzy material with each thrust, and a shiver ran through him.
Oh my god.
Or, Louis’ curiosity gets the better of him, and he finds out a few things about himself and his flatmate. Written for day 3 of kinktober, prompt: voyeurism.
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My Friends Would Like You (Just Not In The Same Way That I Do) (9K) by j_klmnop
“Is that—“
“A piercing? Yes.”
On your knees is probably not the best way to meet a new neighbour.
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angel in my eyes (2K) by 28goldensfics | @28goldens
“You are devilish aren’t you?” Harry purred, instinctively licking over his bottom lip as his hands went to adjust the headband of devil horns from Louis’ costume to fit back centered in his slicked back hair.
“Oh, but you,” Louis stepped one small step forward so that their chests and hips began to meld together and his hands danced their way to his back and followed the curves down over his arse. “You’ve just been my angel all day, haven’t you?”
or the halloween pwp where louis and harry aren’t quite ready to take off their costumes
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keep feeding my soul, and i’ll fall apart (5K) by boyfriendstages | @boyfriendstages
Harry realizes he’s gone into heat early in the middle of performing Medicine, and promptly has his Alpha casually cross the world to help him through it.
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Shaking In The Shockwave (4K) by LetTheMusicMoveYou | @letthemusicmoveyou28
Harry looks up then at the tall building in front of him, as people rush past him on the pavement all around. It looks like any other building in London. Then again, he isn’t exactly sure what he was expecting.
A neon sign on the side of the building proclaiming SEX HOTEL maybe?
Of course there is no such sign, instead there’s just elegant gold lettering that reads: The Suite Spot.
Harry had rolled his eyes when he’d first read that name, but he’s always been a sucker for a good pun. ‘A luxury hotel experience that will have you coming again and again’ the website had read.
It felt a little too on the nose, but then again, Harry’s the one that sought out the website in the first place so who’s he to judge?
(Or the one where Harry is still reeling and heartbroken after discovering his fiancé has been cheating on him. So in a moment of desperation, he decides to spend the weekend at a self-pleasure hotel. As it turns out, the gorgeous blue eyed man at the front desk is more than willing to help distract him).
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Makes Me Feel Alive (8K) by hazzahtomlinson | @itsnotreal
Louis hated when people came in to get tattooed and couldn’t sit still— bunch of fucking squares is what they were. If only that had been the issue for his newest client.
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Lights Go Down (10K) by SilverStuff50 | @silverstuff50
Louis is in need of the perfect dom, and the best dom in the club has just parted ways with his regular sub. Can Louis be the sub Zayn wants?
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Fire (9K) by eversincezourry | @eversincezourry
Harry is Louis’ pretty girl 🎀
#grapejuicebluesrry 2024 fic rec#2024 fic rec#fic rec#larry fics#hljournal#tracking happily#tracksintheam#trackinghome#larry fic rec#ao3 feed larry#1d fic library
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I like to imagine empire’s jimmy doing something dumb like almost falling off a cliff around Joel and Joel just immediately eating him so he will stop dying
Jimmy would be furious. Joel would be unfazed by his protests.
Jim kicked at another pebble as he strode alongside a deep fissure to the north of Tumble Town, bickering playfully with the god he called his friend. Joel's strides across the red dirt were much greater than the little sheriff's and he frequently had to stop to let him catch up. He crawled over a few stones, making some lighthearted jabs and laughing along to whatever dumb ideas the god tossed around for future projects, but mostly he was zoning out, just letting the words slide in one ear and out the other. Jimmy was vaguely aware of the god making a comment at him to watch his step, but it was drowned out by the sudden crack of stone and a feeling of weightlessness as the ground beneath him gave way to open air.
The tiny let out a shriek before he felt a firm grip around his middle and the snap of being stopped short in midair. He gasped softly and closed his eyes as vertigo kicked in, and when he opened them again, he was staring into Joel's eyes. Jimmy didn't like the look he was giving him.
"Jimmy, I blummin' told you to be careful!" He winced slightly. Joel sounded downright pissed at him, even if concern was seeping through the sharp tone.
"Sorry, sorry-" He held up his hands in defense, "Can you.. put me down now?" Something in Joel's eyes shined in a way that made Jimmy uneasy. Scheming, maybe. His vision blurred with the feeling of vertigo, but when it steadied again he realized, instead of being lowered to the ground like he'd asked, the god had lifted him up level with his face.
"..Joel?" He gave no response, and the sheriff flinched as he was suddenly faced with an open maw, glinting with sharp teeth. "JOEL!" Jimmy was cut off as his entire upper half was shoved unceremoniously into the god's mouth. He tried to squirm his way free, but teeth dug into his back whenever he moved, and he quickly decided it was safer to stay still and brace himself against the hard palate above him until an opportunity for escape arose. It was only a second or so later that the pressure around his middle lifted, but before he could make a move, the rest of him was pulled into the cavern too. The light died as teeth clicked shut behind him and with it any hope Jim might have had for freedom.
Joel swallowed firmly, and Jimmy could only wriggle helplessly as he was dragged down the god's throat, being squished in from all sides as peristalsis pulled him deeper into his core. When the pressure finally subsided, Joel hummed softly, rubbing at Jim through the layers of flesh as the tiny sheriff tried to reorient himself.
"If you aren't going to take care of yourself I'm just going to have to make sure you stay safe. You can come out when you've learnt to value your life, Jimmy." The tiny sputtered indignantly and shoved at the wall he could feel Joel's hand through. The only response it got was a soft purr from the god and the stomach space shrinking in some weird, slimy sort of hug. Jimmy grumbled a bit before leaning into the flesh. Knowing the god, he'd probably be in here for longer than that.
#ask time#pop writes things#sfw vore#safe vore#g/t vore#empires vore#pred!joel#prey!jimmy#g!joel#t!jimmy#mcyt vore#this is the one i lost 3 paragraphs for btw
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NUTCRACKER - TADC Showtime Christmas Special
A/N: This might be my longest one, hence why it took a while. Also I didn’t know shit about the Nutcracker until this month. This is also my last post for a while, since I’m going to residential therapy today. :,) …as for the other prompts I received, they will not be forgotten! Life got in the way and with the timing, I decided to write and release the Christmas themed one first.
@definitely-mothman thank you for the idea!
cw: alcohol, cartoon violence, suggestive comment from jax, jax in general
“Are you really sure you want to work overtime tonight?”
Pomni sighed and rubbed her head. “No. But corporate is being an asshole, and you all have things to get to.”
Ragatha bit her lip, looking at Pomni like she wanted to jump back in her seat and finish all the work for her. “Oh, Pomni, I can’t just leave you here on Christmas Eve! Here, why don’t you come with us to my cousin Andy’s. Jax and I are—”
“Yeesh, lay off it dollface. If short stack wants to work Christmas Eve, let her waste her holiday,” Jax interrupted with a roll of his eyes.
“Wha—Jax! Be nice to her. She’s offering to work really hard for us," Ragatha scolded, hands on her hips.
“Tsk. Yeah, yeah. I'll bet anything she just wants an excuse to stay behind and jump Caine's bones or something."
Pomni clenched her fists, blushing immediately at the implication. "That's not true!" she argued through gritted teeth, almost offended at the idea.
Ragatha's face was just as flushed as Pomni's, and she tugged at her hair in frustration. "Jax! You can't just say things like that!"
Jax grinned widely at the frustration he incited. "What? You don't think it's a little odd that Caine obviously favors her and she decides to stay behind with him on Christmas?"
"Nothing is going on," Pomni grumbled, trying to calm herself, "he's my boss, a-and I'm not even interested." She crossed her arms, looking away from his infuriating grin.
Ragatha brought a hand to her face, sighing. "Don't listen to him. We appreciate this, you know."
Zooble walked by, grabbing for Gangle's red scarf from the hanger. "You really want to stay here all night?"
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Pomni groaned. Any more comments from the others would probably make her decide to shove all her work aside and head right out the door. "Yes, I'm sure. It won't be that long."
Just then, Caine emerged from his office, chipper as ever. "Dooooon't worry, my shining stars!" he walked behind Pomni, gripping her shoulders as though showing off his most valuable possession, "Pomni here has graciously decided to sacrifice her holiday for all you jolly gingersnaps!"
Pomni tensed at his touch, averting the others' gazes--especially Jax, who was smirking at the way Caine held her so proudly.
"Well, that's very generous of you, Pomni!" Kinger piped up.
"This seems really immoral," Gangle whimpered, wrapping the scarf Zooble handed her around her neck.
"She'll be fiiiiine. Caine's going to take great care of her, right, Caine?" Jax grinned mischievously at the two.
"Anything for my starlet!" Caine replied cheerfully, oblivious to his suggestiveness.
Pomni laughed uncomfortably, staring down at the floor. "W-well, now that that's settled...I'm gonna go back to work," she excused herself, quickly retreating to her desk to avoid the uncomfortable conversation.
"Merry Christmas!" Ragatha called after her retreating form, before being ushered out the door by an impatient Jax. The others gradually filed out, leaving the office silent apart from the occasional rustle of paper or buzz of the computer.
"I have to say, my dear, it's very admirable of you to give up your holiday," Caine's voice came from behind her, startling her.
"A-ah! Caine, how many times do I have to tell you to knock--"
"O-oh, of course. My apologies," Caine looked surprisingly sheepish, turning back to look at his office but not quite walking away. It was obvious he didn't want to leave, like he had something else on his mind to tell her, but for once in his life he was speechless. Pomni followed his gaze.
Caine’s office was filled with nonsensical, colorful knick-knacks. He collected things he was drawn to, he had said. But those knick-knacks ranged from rubber ducks, to rubix cubes, to plastic figurines. She would have found it strange, if it weren’t for how oddly endearing he was about it all.
Pomni sighed. She wanted to be alone, but she felt a pang of sympathy for him. “...I had nowhere to be anyways. Jax and Ragatha had a party to go to, Zooble…well..they didn’t say what they’re doing, Gangle is hosting some hangout at her apartment, and Kinger and his wife are having a night in. But me…”
Caine watched as she trailed off, then his charismatic smile returned. “Why, Pomni, what better way to spend your holiday than with your boss?!" He put an arm around her, causing her to tense in discomfort. She glanced over at him, almost wondering if he was joking, but his eyes shining with a genuine enthusiasm.
Pomni sighed, bringing a hand to her head. “Just…at least let me have a drink or two tonight.”
Caine removed his arm from her shoulder and crossed his arms, looking at her sternly. “Now now, you know how the rules about workplace etiquette!”
“Right…has to be family friendly?” Pomni recited bitterly.
“Correct! It can be enjoyed by all ages…”
She raised an eyebrow. “A…workplace?”
“Ah—well…” Caine hesitated, eyes roamning on the woman in front of him. “I…suppose I’ll see what I can do."
She sighed. “Thanks,” she said half-heartedly before returning to work.
Hours of mundane work passed, most of it spent with Pomni inwardly cursing out upper management. Then again, she had nothing much else to do on Christmas Eve. A part of her couldn’t help but wish she had taken up Ragatha on her offer—but, realistically, that would have likely been more uncomfortable. Unwanted social interactions—here, the only person she had to work with was.
Caine had graciously granted her a bottle of alcohol—she had asked for vodka out of flat-out desperation, but he gave her wine instead and insisted on watering it down each time she wanted a glass.
“Can’t have my star employee inebriated!” he had told her before stashing the bottle away.
Pomni grumbled, but she knew he was right deep down. Though she’d never admit it, the alcohol was making her feel slightly tired. Or maybe it was the fact that she had been unable to sleep all night. Probably that.
All she knew is she was struggling to keep her eyes open, the buzz of the computer almost comforting. The gentle glow from the office's Christmas tree made her feel encompassed in warmth. She gave into her tiredness, but just for a few minutes, she'd told herself.
She planted her head down on her arms, resting on the desk. The hum of the office and the gentle ticking of the clock lulled her into sleep...
——
The first thing that stirred her back to reality was the feel of a pillow, uncomfortably positioned by her side.
For a moment, she swatted her side, feeling for her cat. It wasn't unusual for her cat to wake her up, either shifting in position or scratching at something. She groaned, when in a cold shock she realized she wasn’t at home in her bed. Upon opening her eyes, panic settled deep in her stomach, accompanied by a sick feeling of dread. She wasn’t even in her office, or any place remotely ordianry—rather, she was in a red-and-blue themed bedroom.
Pomni rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, only to realize her hands were concealed by cartoonish, white gloves. On second thought, she wasn’t even in her work attire—she was in a red and blue leotard. She jumped out of her chair in surprise, suddenly taking in just how bizarre this situation was. She felt at her face, at her hair, at the jester hat she wore…
Panic settled in her stomach, followed by a sudden sensation that she was being watched. Something was off about this, and it certainly wasn’t sitting well with her.
"POMNI!"
"AgH--!"
Cutting through the silence was a boisterous voice, followed shortly by the sight of an uncanny, cartoonish figure above her bed, gazing at her with heterochromic eyes between...teeth for a head?
He swept down to her side, gripping firmly at her hand. "What were you dreaming about, dear? Could it have been--the excitement of adventure?" he leaned in close, voice so loud it could give her a migraine.
"...No..." Pomni mustered, discomfort etched across all her cartoonish features. Something about that voice, ever-enthusiastic, was awfully familiar, in spite of his uncanny appearance.
"Great!" he cut off her train of thought, enthusiasm a stark contrast to her exhaustion, "then there's no time to waste! Your funny buddies are already waiting!" He grabbed for her hand before she could protest and, with a sickening twist of her internal organs, she found herself rapidly transported out of the bedroom and into a nauseatingly colorful room.
Her vision spun around, the teeth man flying away from her side with a cartoonish "whoosh" and towards a group of colorful cartoon characters. Once her stomach settled and her eyes adjusted to the brightness, she got a better look at the group--a purple rabbit with an arrogant grin, a rag doll scolding him, a girl made of ribbons with a happy mask, an abstract figure seemingly pieced together by various parts, and a chess piece peeking out of a pillow fort. Everything so...uncanny.
And worse...familiar. Really familiar.
She warily stepped closer to the group, mostly because she didn't want the teeth man to return and shout excitedly in her face about "adventure", and overheard the conversations of the others.
The stern expression on the rag doll's face melted away the moment she saw Pomni, replaced by a soft smile. "Oh, hi, Pomni! How'd you sleep?"
Pomni blinked in surprise, looking between her and the rabbit. "...I...slept fine," she replied half-heartedly. Her gaze trailed to the others, all watching her with curious expressions.
"You look even more paranoid than usual," the rabbit said judgmentally, eyes flicking up and down at her tense form.
Pomni didn't take any notice at first until he smacked at her face, as though snapping her out of a trance. "..Huh...what?"
"Yeesh. At this rate you're a bigger nutcase than Kinger," the rabbit snickered, earning a glare from the ragdoll.
Kinger.
The name repeated, again and again in her mind. Then…that would mean….
Pomni's eyes followed the rabbit's thumb, pointing at the chess piece peeking out of the pillow fort, stomach dropping in realization. She glanced around at the other cast of characters. It felt like she had woken up within a dream, everything suddenly lucid. And she didn't like it one bit.
Kinger, Jax, Ragatha, Zooble, Gangle, and...
The teeth man flew above them once more. "Now, now, my little polygonal pinecones! Today's adventure is filled with wonder, excitement, festivities!" his eyes fell on Pomni, bottom jaw curving up in what she read as a smile, "and it's all thanks to our little jester friend..."
Pomni's breath was stolen from her.
Caine.
Jax rolled his eyes. "Yuck."
Caine flew down to Pomni's side, placing an arm around her in the same manner that he had at her desk a few hours ago. "That's right! Pomni recently informed me during one of our lessons that you humans deeply treasure your traditions, your festivities!" his grip on her tightened, "and so, today's adventure is in honor of Christmas!"
With a snap of his fingers, the circus around them transformed slightly. The stage was framed by a garland, a wreath formed at the top. Colorful lights were strung around, and a large tree with large ornaments stood proudly in the center of the room.
"...I'm never drinking again," Pomni mused, rubbing at her head.
"Now, now, my silly little shortbread. You know the importance of hydrating!" Caine corrected her.
"That's not what I--"
"THAT'S RIGHT! I declare today a digital Christmas!" Caine spread his limbs out enthusiastically, tinsel sprinkling down onto the circus members.
Zooble looked unimpressed, flicking some of the tinsel off of their head. "Isn’t it, like….June?”
Ragatha clasped her hands in front of her dress. "Ooh, Christmas? That's a great idea, Pomni. We could really use some holiday spirit around here," she praised with an enthusiastic swing of her arms.
“Yeah, yeah, holiday spirit. Gross. Where’s the bloodshed and violence?” Jax tapped his foot impatiently, crossing his arms.
Gangle smiled, lifting some tinsel from her ribbons. “Actually…this sounds like a lot of fun,” she piped up.
Caine twirled around in the air, his cane spinning behind him. “I knew it! Ha-ha! Oh, Pomni, we need to collaborate more often!” he praised, before snapping his fingers once more. “Now that that’s settled, today’s adventure issss…the Battle of the Gloink Kingdom!”
Silence filled the air. Then, their reactions came in one.
“…Well, I’m heading out,” Zooble huffed.
“Battle? Now we’re talking,” Jax said with a satisfied grin.
“Gloinks?” Kinger tilted his head, a finger pressed to his chin, “Gloinks make me crazy…” he began to trail off.
Pomni sighed. “Remind me how this has to do with Christmas?”
“Maybe it’s like the Nutcracker?” Ragatha piped up hopefully, clearly trying to salvage the idea.
“Wh—n-no, of course not! It’s a complete Digital Circus original,” Caine huffed defensively with a cross of his arms, teeth clamping shut to conceal his eyes.
“I’m good,” Zooble repeated, turning to walk away.
“Um…I think I’ll sit this one out, too,” Gangle said meekly, twiddling her ribbons together as she glanced at Zooble’s retreating form.
“Wha—but this adventure is filled with so much excitement! So much festivity! Where’s your holiday spirit?” Caine called after them.
“In the void,” Zooble quipped before disappearing with Gangle down the hall.
“W-well, that’s fine! We’ll have the best Christmas adventure without you,” Caine crossed his arms, turning his back to them and glancing down at the others, “well, that leaves all of you!”
He glanced down at the remaining circus members—Pomni, Ragatha, and Jax. Kinger had long since retreated to his pillow fort, having talked about a rubber room and gloinks. Pomni was tense, Ragatha visibly uncomfortable but trying to force a smile, and Jax grinning.
“So, Caine,” Jax started, “just how much violence and bloodshed will there be?”
“Ah! About that, my rambunctious rabbitoid friend! Pomni here suggested that too much ‘violence and bloodshed’ could stress everyone out. So this adventure will be very family-friendly—” Caine reached to boop Jax’s non-existent nose.
Jax grimaced, pushing his hand away. He glowered down at Pomni. “Nice going, Pomni. You’ve ruined Christmas,” he said with a roll of his eyes, “if there’s no violence in a ‘battle’, I’m out.”
Good riddance, Pomni thought. The more her mind was adjusting to the circus world, the more familiar everything felt. And the more familiar everything felt, the more she realized how much she despised that damn rabbit.
Caine looked visibly disappointed, but tried to maintain his showman demeanor. “Well, that leaves the two of you, then! Whaddya say?“ he asked, but his eyes were only on Pomni.
Pomni felt her stomach flip at the attention he was giving her. She tried to shake the thoughts away, but the way he had praised her for telling him about Christmas, the way he was so excited to show her—God, she’d feel bad if she rejected him after everyone else did. But she really didn’t like the idea of another gloink adventure, whatever that meant.
Ragatha’s eyes went between Caine and Pomni, sensing the tension. She smiled to herself, well-aware of the blossoming relationship between the two—likely more aware of it than they were themselves. She was usually quick to accept an adventure, even the unpleasant ones, out of her people-pleasing nature. But she also wasn’t keen on potentially interrupting the two. “W-well, I actually had plans with Gangle and Zooble today. Drawing and whatnot,” she lied, earning a disappointed look from Caine and a nervous one from Pomni.
“A-ah, I see…” Caine trailed off before shaking his head cartoonishly, his smile returning. “Very well! Pomni, I’ll join you on today’s holiday escapade!” With a snap of his fingers, the world around them shifted. The two of them shrunk down, the Christmas tree towering over them.
“Wh—CAINE?! What the [#%?!] is going on??”
“Language, my dear. And to answer your question, we’re gloink-sized!” Caine announced proudly.
“Gloink-sized?? Wha—WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH CHRISTMAS??” Pomni seethed.
Caine ignored her complaints. “Ah, there they are now!”
“There’s what—” Pomni began to ask, but her question was cut short by the sudden stampeding of an army of gingerbread men, followed by the familiar bouncing of the gloinks.
The two sides met in the middle, battling rather pathetically. The gingerbread men continuously broke into pieces, cookie crumbs scattering across the floor. The gloinks, on the other hand, would bounce on the gingerbread men’s’ bodies and knock them down, often clipping through the body.
Pomni stood there frozen, face contorting into one of complete puzzlement. “…what kind of adventure is this…?” she asked slowly.
“A Christmas one, Pomni! Look!”
Pomni followed the direction of his pointed finger and saw the Gloink Queen emerging from seemingly nothing, cheering her children on from afar as she slithered over to the battleground.
“So like…we just watch?”
“Ah, of course not! It’s your job to defeat the Gloink Queen!” Caine explained.
Pomni frowned. “Wasn’t that already an adventure? Besides, can’t you just do it?”
“Hmm…I suppose I could help, but only a little bit. It wouldn’t exactly be fair if I did it all for you, now would it?”
“Caine—!” Pomni began to scold, but was quickly interrupted by the Gloink Queen scooping up a group of the gingerbread men and swallowing them whole.
“It’s all part of the show!”
Pomni gaped at the Gloink Queen, who was swallowing down pieces of gingerbread army men.
“You foolish ginger soldiers are no match for my precious children! How can you not see by now, everything will be gloinks! You will be gloinks, she will be gloinks, God will be gloinks!” The Gloink Queen growled between violent chomps of the screaming gingerbread army.
Without thinking, Pomni grabbed a crescent-shaped gloink and threw it at the Gloink Queen.
“My precious spawn!” the Gloink Queen cried out, watching her two-hundred-and-third child be thrown past the nearby Christmas tree.
“Caine, please just get rid of her already!” Pomni practically begged. This alleged Christmas adventure was already a disaster, and as much as she didn’t want to disappoint him, she also didn’t want to watch more NPCs die in morbid ways.
Caine sighed, seeing that Pomni wasn’t satisfied. “If you insist, Pomni,” and with a snap of his fingers, a black hole summoned beneath the Gloink Queen and swallowed her whole. All the gloinks quickly jumped in after her, following their mother into the unknown. The hole closed behind them, leaving the two alone with the gingerbread NPCs.
For a moment, all was quiet, except the men’s cookie weapons clattering to the ground. Then, they turned to Pomni and Caine, and started cheering out.
“She saved God!” one of the men cried out, shaking Pomni by the shoulders.
“Wait, wait, wait, I did HUH?” Pomni shook her head in disbelief.
Caine laughed heartily. “Oh, Pomni, they’re celebrating you! For saving my life,” he explained, placing a hand where his heart would be.
“…but you can’t even die!”
“We have to take her to the princess!” one of the gingerbread men with a broken arm exclaimed, shaking Pomni around violently.
Caine clasped his hands together. “Why, Pomni! How exciting! They want us to meet the Princess.”
“Caine, I really just want to—”
“Splendid!” Caine interrupted, and with a snap of his fingers they were teleported into the Candy Canyon Kingdom before a crowd of NPCs.
“AGH—CAINE WHA—where are we??”
“We’re with the princess, of course!”
Pomni’s head was spinning. It was evident that he was desperate to please her, or perhaps even, make their time together last. She couldn’t deny, she really, really wanted to go back to her room and stare into the abyss for a while. When Caine had said “Christmas adventure”, she had foolishly assumed he meant something traditional—a gift exchange, decorating gingerbread houses, something normal.
But looking at the man beside her, she knew it was best never to assume he was anything “normal”.
Princess Loolilalu approached the two from within the castle, earning screams of excitement from the crowd. One she had approached the two, she curtsied to them. “Ah, you must be the brave girl who saved God,” she said, gesturing to Caine, whose eyes were pointing in entirely different directions.
Pomni sighed. “Yep…that’s me,” she replied weakly, quite honestly wanting this whole adventure to be over.
“Well, we’ve prepared quite the celebration in your honor. And, if you don’t mind…” Princess Loolilalu gestured for a mannequin NPC to scurry over, carrying a candy crown on a red pillow, “I have a gift for you.”
“Oh, um…that’s okay, I really don’t need—”
“Nonsense! I coded the crown to fit you perfectly,” Caine interjected. With a snap of his fingers, her jester hat disappeared, leaving her with her short, dark brown hair fully exposed.
“Well, you can’t argue with God,” the NPC commented before lifting the crown to the Princess with more urgency.
Princess Loolilalu smiled gently before plucking the crown from the pillow, stepping closer to Pomni and placing it onto her head. “A crown in your honor. The Candy Canyon Kingdom is forever grateful for your noble escapade,” she curtsied, and the crowd of NPCs erupted into cheers.
Pomni smiled uncomfortably, not sure what to do with all the eyes on her. She brought her gloved hands to her jester shorts, curtsying awkwardly.
Caine leaned over to her. “A crown suits you quite nicely, my dear,” he complimented in a hushed voice, so close to her that it made her tense up and flush.
“Let the celebrations, begin!” Princess Loolilalu announced, earning another round of applause and excited cheers.
——
After what felt like hours of vibrant “cultural”celebrations (as in, various NPCs presenting her with glitched-out dances or candies they prepared themselves, prompting her to wonder, is this cannibalism?)—the two were finally given the chance to exit the kingdom’s gates.
“Wow, Pomni! What an educational journey about candy culture!” Caine placed his gloved hands on his hips, eyes crossed in different directions.
“Can we go back to the circus?” Pomni asked in exhaustion. She never expected she’d be asking to return to that colorful purgatory, but all the NPCs’ attention had drained for.
Caine lowered onto the ground beside her, watching her carefully. “Well, actually…”
Pomni tensed, anxiety immediately settling in her stomach. “Oh God, don’t tell me we can’t go back.”
“Nonsense! Don’t be silly, I can take us home with a snap of my fingers! But ah, if you would humor me, my dear…”
Pomni raised an eyebrow as he stood eye level to her. There was something…different about his demeanor. A crack in his usual showman persona, a flicker of vulnerability. Something that felt less like an AI and more like a real person.
Caine took off his hat, fiddling with it in his hands. His eyes looked up to meet hers, slightly concealed by his top jaw. He almost looked shy. Caine, the loud and goofy AI ringmaster, looking shy. “Would you care to dance?”
Pomni blinked in surprise, unexpected butterflies settling in her stomach. She thought nothing of it, just her usual anxieties. “O-oh, I’m not really good at dancing,” she brushed off, smiling a bit uncomfortably.
“Oh, nonsense! You’re a one-of-a-kind performer,” Caine replied, placing his hat back on his top jaw, “Besides…if I may confess, there is something else I’d like to share with you.”
Pomni tilted her head curiously. “Oh…okay, um…yeah. Show me,” she said, though she knew that could be quite a risk given Caine’s history.
His face—or lack thereof—seemed to light up at her willingness. “Wonderful!” he exclaimed, hands grabbing for her waist and pulling her flush against him.
She yelped at the sudden touch, the closeness immediately bringing heat to her face. But Caine, ever the oblivious AI, merely snapped his fingers and teleported them across the map—much to the dismay of Pomni’s internal organs—inciting a cry from her.
“Ah, here we are!”
Pomni was suddenly aware of how tense she was when she had been released from his touch. Her shoulders were tensed, eyes squeezed shut, preparing for the worst. But when she opened her eyes…
Huh.
The world around her had become a forest with light streaming in, and the trees and ground coated in a sheet of snow. Everything was quiet, and snowflakes fell to the ground lazily, landing on her candy crown and Caine’s hat.
She lifted up her hand, letting the snowflakes fall on her glove. They were delicate and detailed, each one perfectly crafted. They melted slowly in her hand, and it was…
Beautiful.
“I…I love it,” Pomni breathed out in awe.
“I knew you would!” Caine said, expressions lighting up once more, “I’ve spent the past week designing this, and all just for you!” he approached her, carefully taking her hand in his.
“For me?” Pomni repeated. He had always given her special attention, she remembered that much. But this was something else. Something that made butterflies dance in her stomach.
“Of course! I wouldn’t have done this for just anyone, you know!” he gave her a playful wink, “besides, I couldn’t help but think about that conversation we had about Christmas and snow. And how much you’ve missed it.”
Pomni felt like her heart was melting as much as the snow on her hand. God, he was actually learning. And the result was beautiful. Perhaps it was that rush of affection that motivated her to prompt, “What was that you said about dancing?”
Caine’s smile widened immediately at her invitation. “Ah, of course.”
Pomni couldn’t deny how much her heart thumped in her chest—perhaps from nerves, but deep down, she knew it was something else. He held her hand in his with more confidence, his other hand slipping to cup her waist. His touch had once made her tense and shy away, but for some reason now, it took her breath away.
He guided her, slowly at first. Taking one step, then the next, back and forth in a gentle rhythm. She watched her feet, making sure she was doing it correctly, but was quickly interrupted by Caine letting go of her hand and bringing a finger to tilt her chin up.
“It’s best to keep your eyes on me, my dear,” he whispered tenderly.
Pomni nearly shivered from how gentle his voice sounded. His gaze was so oddly tender, so loving that it made butterflies flutter around in her stomach. His hand returned to hers but this time, Pomni felt bold enough to interlace her fingers with his. She could see a flicker of surprise in Caine’s eyes, but just for a brief moment.
The dance gained more confidence, snow falling delicately on the two as they moved. It coated the top of his coat and her leotard. And yet, despite their surroundings, she felt incredibly warm.
Caine lifted their hands and spun her around, causing Pomni to clumsily follow in surprise. “Careful, dear. Just like that…see?” he guided her movements, but her eyes were still too focused on his. One eye was blue and the other was green. This was the first time she had really thought about how much she liked that.
Their rhythm sped up slightly, the two gaining more confidence and fluidity in their dance. They spun in circles around the snow-covered clearing, eyes only focused on the others’. Her chest was pressed flush against his, and she could feel the way his code thrummed against her beating heart.
Her mind spun, and it wasn’t from them spinning in circles that was doing it to her.
His hands slipped down to her waist, fingers brushing over the small of her back in a way that made her breath catch. He gripped her tightly before boldly lifting her up. Pomni gasped as she was lifted into the air and spun around briefly. Normally, she would have been frightened, but for some reason, it only made her gain more confidence when she was returned to the ground. She smiled at him, gripping his hand tightly and continuing to dance with him. His eyes glistened in joy at the sight of her smile—genuine smile—and she could feel his system temperature only rising.
At one point, she spun around so her back was against his chest. His hands held hers, guiding her in a delicate dance. Pomni swore she stopped breathing when his hands traveled down to her waist, snaking around her and holding her from behind. She was certain he could feel the way her heart was beating in her chest, and it only made her more flustered.
Finally, Caine moved to dip her. Pomni audibly laughed at the dramatic gesture, the sound only making Caine’s body burn against hers. He was certainly overheating, the snow beneath him melting, and she couldn’t deny that she liked being the one that made him feel this way.
His hands were wrapped around her, one holding her back and the other cupping her waist again. Pomni’s laughter faded when she realized that the two weren’t moving. For a moment, she thought he had frozen, but…no. He was watching her, his gaze making her blush.
Caine brought the hand on her waist up to her face, brushing aside her hair and cupping the round of her face. He let his thumb trail along her lips, along the blush beneath her eyes, eyes taking in every detail like he wanted to burn this moment into his memory. But it was the way he was looking at her that made her swoon. His eyes were glistening, watching every inch of her.
He was looking at her like she was his favorite adventure, like she was his most prized possession. He looked at her like, just maybe, he wanted her. It made her hold her breath, and Pomni was acutely aware that she wanted him to kiss her.
“Caine,” Pomni breathed out, eyes blown wide at the sight of him so…genuine.
He didn’t break eye contact. It was oddly thrilling. Like a million Christmas days rolled into one moment—him holding her like this, looking at her with real emotion. Not programmed reactions, not an illusion of a feeling, but real emotion.
It made her incredibly nervous, face flushed the more she became aware.
“I believe you need rest, my clumsy little Clara,” he said so softly she almost didn’t believe it was him. He lifted his hand as though he were about to snap his fingers. “May I?”
Pomni hummed in response, shoving her pride aside in favor of the sudden warmth overwhelming her senses. She rested her head against his shoulder, hearing the soothing buzz of his code, thrumming with more intensity the closer she pressed against him.
He pressed a gentle kiss—or the closest thing to a kiss he could initiate—to her cheek, making her feel warmer than ever. With a snap of his fingers, she felt a familiar discomfort in her gut as she was transported across the map. Only this time, the discomfort was blanketed by Caine’s comfort.
“Mm…I never knew you could be so…” Pomni mumbled incoherently as she drifted closer to sleep.
“So…?” Caine prompted, code thrumming louder against her ear.
There were so many words she could choose from. Cozy? Soothing? Attractive? “…warm…” she settled on.
“I think you’ll find I can be many things, my dear.”
He settled her into her bed, tucking her in and letting his gloved hand linger against a front strand of hair. Maybe she was just incredibly tired, or maybe she was actually starting to see him differently.
“You’ve had quite the adventure today, Pomni,” he soothed, “get some rest."
There was something about the way he said her name so gently that made her feel safe. For the first time in this terrifying place, she really felt safe. Maybe even…
Loved.
She wanted to say more. She wanted to hold him close and never let go. But sleep overtook all her senses, along with an indescribable warmth.
Loved, was the word repeating in her mind as she drifted off.
——
Pomni woke to the feeling of Caine shaking her gently. It was oddly calm considering his usually energetic demeanor, like for once, he was willing to let her sleep.
A blanket was wrapped around her shoulders…no…not a blanket. It was a red jacket.
Caine’s.
She came back to reality, visions of the dream melting away in place of the dimly-lit office. The clock ticked rhythmically, the computer on her desk buzzed, the lights of the Christmas tree lazily flickering in the corner. The fever-dreamlike world of the circus had faded away, replaced by the dull familiarity of reality.
The more she woke up, the more she adjusted to the scene around her. And that’s when she became aware of Caine, who had visibly just given her his coat as a blanket. He froze when she stirred awake, eyes falling on him.
There was a sudden flutter of butterflies in Pomni’s stomach at his gaze, her head feeling light and certainly not from the alcohol.
“Caine,” she whispered, suddenly feeling incredibly flustered as the memories of her romantic dream returned to her.
“Pomni,” he replied, clearly just as unsure of what to say as her.
“Caine.”
“…”
“…”
“…merry Christmas, dear.”
Her eyes flicked to the clock, reading 12:57 AM. “Merry Christmas, Caine.”
“…”
“Pomni, I…”
“You…?”
“Well, I was just wondering if you’d ah…like to…join me today.”
Pomni blinked. “You want to celebrate Christmas with me?”
Caine blushed. “Well…doesn’t that sound like such a festive thing to do? Such a human thing to do? Spending a day that is almost unanimously agreed on to be special with someone that you, perhaps, see as special?”
Pomni blushed at his jumble of words and the way he avoided her gaze. Caine, the enthusiastic and shameless boss of this place, shy. In the back of her mind was that dream. It almost seemed…
Like a memory.
Or maybe it was just the alcohol. And the exhaustion.
Probably that.
All she knew is she was blushing and speechless, her heart jumping in her chest at the sight of him. She didn’t know why her mind had made him look so…absurd. But somehow, the dream version of him had swept her off her feet.
And she felt it now, too. Like she shouldn’t find him endearing, but she did anyway.
But she wasn’t ready to admit that to herself.
“I’d…like that,” she said without thinking.
He could have burst in excitement there and then. “Oh, my dear, you would? You—really?”
She stood up, smoothing her skirt out. “Yes,” she decided, then followed up with a sentence that surprised herself, “work can wait.”
Caine froze in place, finding it difficult to move for a moment. He nearly forgot he had control over his movements until Pomni snapped her fingers in front of his eyes. “Caine…? You okay? You sort of froze up there for a moment.”
“Aha, yes! Pomni, I can’t begin to describe how long I’ve wanted to experience this with you.”
She paused for a moment, tilting her head curiously at him. Everything he was saying lined up well enough with her dreams and…maybe, just maybe, those dreams really were….
She interrupted that train of thought. No, that was entirely absurd. She was just incredibly exhausted and just a little bit drunk.
Even so, she remembered the way they had danced together in her dream, the way he was so incredibly oblivious but still endearing. The way he paid her special attention, the way he held her like he wanted her. And the way he was looking at her now…
His eyes…one was blue and one was green. She had never noticed that until now. Just like her dream…never really noticed it, not like this.
One blue, one green. Both, filled with equal adoration for her.
It could have been that thought that motivated her to boldly take his hand in his, making him tense up.
“I have, too, Caine.”
A/N: and with that, I’m off to residential for a couple months. hopefully it wasn’t too rushed, i’m quite literally heading into the office right as i post this so did not have time to edit as much as i hoped. Thank you all for being amazing. Merry Christmas <3
#showtime#the amazing digital circus#tadc#amazing digital circus#tadc caine#caine tadc#digital circus#showtime tadc#tadc showtime#caine#pomni#tadc pomni#pomni tadc#caine x pomni#pomni x caine
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Claws
Victor Creed sat at the edge of his camp bed, the dim light of the lantern hanging from the tent ceiling flickered. They were in some place called Madripoor, somewhere in South East Asia. Stryker hadn’t told them yet what they were here for and Jimmy was on edge but he didn’t care. He would wait for his order and then he would give them hell. Whoever they were.
His hands rested in his laps, his fingers intertwined. His claws, now fully extended, gleamed dully in the yellow light. He watched them carefully, his sharp eyes tracking the tiny splits along the nail beds, where crimson flesh peaked through the thin, ragged slits in his skin.
The pain was sharp, immediate and grounding. It wasn’t the kind of pain that made you cry out—it was deeper than that, ancient and familiar. It lived in his marrow, a reminder of every fight he’d clawed his way through to survive. Victor embraced it, welcomed it. Pain to him, was proof he was still there. Still stronger. Still standing.
As his claws retracted with a faint, wet schluck, Victor ran his thumb over the ridged surface of his nails, feeling the rough edges, where they had burst free moments before. His lips curled into a quiet snarl. Memories came unbidden, surging up from the black depths of his past.
---
His father’s voice was a whipcrack in the small, dingy house they called home.
"You little freak! You think you’re better than me?" The man’s face was red, his eyes bloodshot with whiskey and rage. "I’ll teach you what you are!"
Victor had been eight. Maybe nine. He wasn’t sure anymore. The years blurred together into one long, endless stretch of fear and pain. But that night stood out. That night, something had changed.
His father’s fists had found him, as they always did. Driving into his ribs, his stomach, his face. Victor had curled into a ball, his body instinctively trying to shield himself from the worst of the blows. But then—then something inside him snapped.
It wasn’t just anger. It wasn’t just fear. It was something primal. Something feral.
The first claw had ripped free of his fingertip with a searing pain that stole his breath. He’d thought for a moment he was dying. But then the second claw followed. And the third. And with each burst of pain, a new weapon emerged.
His father hadn’t noticed at first. Not until Victor lashed out.
The sound of claws raking across flesh was something Victor would never forget. It was wet, tearing and visceral. Thomas stumbled back, clutching his arm, where three deep gouges now oozed blood. For the first time in Victor’s short, miserable life he had power. He had teeth.
The look on his father’s face—shock, fear, rage—was seared into Victor’s memory. His response was swift and brutal. He’d beaten Victor bloody, his fists relentless, as he screamed at him to "put away those damn claws." When Victor couldn’t retract them, his father had grabbed a kitchen knife, holding Victor’s hand down against the table and screaming how he’d cut them off if he had to.
Victor didn’t cry. Not then. Not after. Even as the blade pressed against his skin, he stared his father down with defiance burning in his blue eyes. He was too young to understand what the feeling was at the time, but now, years later, he recognized it.
Satisfaction.
Even as his father hurt him, even as the blows rained down, Victor couldn’t stop the quiet, triumphant thought that echoed in his mind: I fought back. You can't take that away from me.
---
Back in the tent, Victor flexed his fingers, watching as the claws extended once more, the familiar sting lighting up his nerves. The memories of his father’s screams, his stammering curses, was like an old song now—faded, but never forgotten.
"You thought you could beat it outta me", Victor muttered into the space, his voice low and rough. He curled his claws into fists, the tips pressing into his palms. "But it’s mine. Always was."
The pain of his claws splitting through his skin was a gift. A reminder. It told him that no matter what had been done to him, no matter what he’d endured, he’d survived. And every time he unsheathed those claws, every time he felt that sting, it was proof that the little boy his father had tried to break was long gone.
Victor leaned back on the bed, his claws retracting again. He smirked, a sharp, predatory expression that didn’t reach his eyes. "Put 'em away? Never."
The pain was his. The claws were his. And no one—not his father, not anyone—would ever take that from him.
#victor creed#sabretooth#liev schreiber#xmen origins#xmen origins wolverine#domestic violence#child abuse#fanart#fanfiction#artists on tumblr
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i hold my own heart in my own hands
it beats in spite of it all
it beats solely for spite.
i’m still bleeding out
all over her pristine pink carpet.
at least you gave my heart back
because it wasn’t the trophy you wanted,
was it?
you didn’t want the proof
that i was capable of love.
you’d gain more glory if you didn’t prove
i was anything but a monster.
no,
you only wanted to say
that you killed me,
the satisfaction of watching me squirm
watching me beg
watching me cry
beneath you.
you were a hunter
and i was too oblivious
too trusting
to uncover it before the trap was sprung.
the knife that carved me open
was held behind your back
while you beckoned to me
with sweet calls.
you knew i would never trust easy
you knew i had been scarred before
so you knew where to lay the bait
you knew where to strike:
the only soft spot;
the only place not yet scarred.
you didn’t want my heart.
you didn’t want my hide.
you wanted the memory.
you wanted to hear your name
praised by the crowd that followed you;
whimpered by the prey that trusted you.
you wanted the tale,
the story that said
you finally subdued the elusive creature
that never let anyone touch them;
the one that said
you finally caught the monster
and that it was as unlovable
as it always thought it was;
the legend that said
you finally domesticated the beast
thought to be a predator,
taught it to whimper at your touch
made it learn
to lay down at your command.
you just wanted the memory
and the feeling
of knowing that when faced with the one
who swore they would never,
you could make her bend
you could make her cry
you could make her lie
on your bed
and make her lie
to herself.
you held me up
for all your friends to see
and tossed me back
when i began to move again
because you didn’t want to hold me
in the first place.
did you ever think about
when i rolled over
became braver than i ever have
to show you that tenderness
to ignore my instincts
and to hint at my one fear
when you invited me closer?
did you remember it
when i was pinned down
when your knife dug deeper and deeper
when i cried your name
and did you think about it specifically
to make it feel even better
because i know
killing me was one thing on its own;
it was nothing special
you had killed others before.
to kill me
in the way i feared the most,
was that what made you smile?
did you recall
all my exposed parts
and did it make you double take
make you question your actions
even if for a second
and make you see
the poor creature
sprawled out under your weight;
did you have to shove aside your doubt
swallow your guilt
because you knew you were too far along
to apologize to me.
i’m certain you remember
and i’m positive you didn’t falter
because once you commit to something
you don’t stop until it’s done
that was something i loved about you
at least i did once.
and i know enough
to know a hunter doesn’t care
about the way they hurt their hunt
that i was just something else
for you to conquer
not something
for you to think too hard about.
i’m laying on the floor
right where you left me
still bleeding
still breathing
unfortunately.
you couldn’t have given me mercy
so i will lay
still cold
still pale
still crying
still bleeding
until i can heal enough to stand
because i know you won’t pick me up
because you wouldn’t even grant me
mercy.
— i think your teeth were sharper than mine
#i like to call this one just ‘teeth’ for short#& i really love the visual i made of it for insta & tiktok#another oldie but a goodie#it’s not angry. it’s just disappointed.#and fictional! praying apollo keeps that fucking dodgeball away from me xoxo#the patron saint of asexual poets#poetry#poem#poems#original poetry#original writing#creative writing#poets on tumblr#writers on tumblr#lgbtq poetry#lgbtq poem#lgbtq poems
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