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red-pill-blue-pill · 3 years ago

Text

Newfound interest

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!Reader

Words: 2600-ish

Warnings: Fluffy fluff basically.

Summary: You go on a date with the handsome museum gift shop-ist.

A/N: What can I say. I'm currently obsessed with Moon Knight and Steve Grant (and Marc also but Steve just has that something that makes my heart tingle). It's proofread but you know how that works, maybe I've missed something

Gif credit: nikolatexla

You wandered through the museum, reading every little label, trying to soak in the huge amount of information and historical pieces on display.

It had been years since you had went to the museum. Not this one specifically but any museum in London. Yeah, yeah, it was almost criminal for you to forget about the amount of culture that was available. It wasn’t that you didn’t like museums, it was just the lack of free time and, mostly, your lack of power of conviction. It was difficult to drag your friends to a cultural plan when the only thing on their minds as soon as they left work on Fridays was, understandably, getting drunk out of their minds.

Besides, doing things on your own wasn’t something you were used to. The deep rooted conception that people doing stuff on their own were lonely people was the stupidest thing ever but it still nagged you at the back of your mind, forcing you to discard the possibility of going to the museum by yourself. That was, until now.

You had planned to go early in the morning, see as much as possible and then go have lunch by yourself. Your anxiety was over the roof but you wanted to force yourself out of your comfort zone.

And here you were, having the most pleasant morning in the last couple of months, free of hangovers, filled with knowledge. Your brain was reeling with all the new information but there was a specific topic you were dying to research on your own: the egyptian deities. You were completely mesmerized by the collection, it seemed almost impossible that such a rich civilization had really existed and had left all that beauty for you to enjoy.

As you walked back towards the entrance of the museum you couldn’t help but notice a small gift shop. You, being obsessed with postcards, immediately headed towards it. As you approached the shop you saw there were tons of books about the exhibitions and your eyes lit up at the prospect of not having to wait until you got home to research on your new favorite topic.

But there were so many of them… you were completely lost on which one would satisfy you newfound curiosity, even though with the amount knowledge you had — close to zero —probably any of them would suffice. Still, you weren’t completely sure so your eyes quickly scanned the shop, looking for someone to help you.

The cashier was sorting the postcards, his back turned to you. You approached him, too silently it seemed, because when you said “Hi” he slightly jumped and dropped the postcards he was about to put back. “Jesus!”

“Oh my god! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” you said as you dropped to the floor, helping him gather the postcards and handing them back to him.

He smiled slightly “No, I’m sorry I don’t know what got into me” he said standing back up.

You stood up with him, your eyes pausing on his face for the first time. Dang, he was cute. His tired eyes looked at you with curiosity, his intense gaze made you feel self-conscious. Do I have something on my face? You cleared your throat, the sound snapping him out of his thoughts.

“I’m sorry uhm…” you slightly leaned closer to look at the name tag clipped to his chest "Steven” he smiled at the way his name sounded on your sweet voice “I was wondering if you could help me choose a book.”

“Of course” he said as he nodded, the small lock of hair that fell on his face bouncing slightly. “What kind of book are you looking for?”

“Well, today I discovered the ancient Egypt collection and I wanted a book to learn more about it.” His eyes lit up and he rushed to the Ancient Egypt books with you walking closely behind. You stared at him as he looked through the books, his excitement was infectious and the boyish expression on his face made you giggle a bit.

“Yes, I know the perfect book for you. It’s a compilation of every myth and story about egyptian deities and it also puts them in context with cultural practices from the time. It’s very interesting because you get to see hoy religion affected the day to day life.” You listened to him intently, your eyebrows arched and your eyes following his hands as they moved swiftly to the explanation. So he is cute and smart, huh? “for example when they had to bury the pharaoh the only organ left in his body was his heart, cause Anubis weighted the heart of the dead against the feather of truth. If the scale was levered he could spend eternity in the field of reeds, if not, Ammit would eat his heart and… I’m sorry I’m getting carried away.” he chucked as he scratched the back of his neck pulling his lips into a shy smile. His cheeks had turned rosy and you couldn’t help but reach to touch his upper arm in a reassuring way.

“It’s okay, I’m really enjoying it.” you said smiling. His eyes travelled to your hand and then back to your face, his surprised stare making you pull your hand away as you felt the red in your cheeks starting to spread to the rest of your face at the realization of what you had just did. You weren’t the type to go around touching people’s arms, what the hell was that?. You cleared your throat again trying to compose yourself. “I’m taking that one, yeah” you smiled and he handed it to you.

“Okay, let’s go get you checked out then.”

He scanned the book as you leaned against the counter, eyeing his every movement. “That’ll be 24 pounds and 99 pence” he bagged the book as you swiped your card. Something in your stomach churned at the thought of ending the conversation with Steven.

“Hope you enjoy it.” he said smiling and handing you the bag with your new favorite book.

“You definitely set high expectations so I’m sure I will” you said chuckling.

Both of you stared at each other for a couple of seconds before he opened his mouth to speak again but the fear of him saying goodbye made you speak faster

“Do you wanna go grab dinner?” You blurted it out, maybe a little too loud, causing a couple of kids nearby laugh at the, at least in their eyes, embarrassing interaction.

He closed his mouth and pressed his lips in a thin line while quirking an eyebrow as he stared at you.

“M-me?” he said pointing his index finger to his chest, not believing you would want to go out with him.

“Yes, you.” you reclaimed your natural confidence compensating for his shyness in some way.

“Yeah, I’d like to. The only problem is that I am vegan. We don’t have to go to a vegan place though, I can eat salad too there’s no problem, normally there’s salad everywhe-“ he started rambling again and you cut him off with a smile.

“I’m vegan too, don’t worry. How about today? Are you free?” you asked while rummaging through your purse in search of your phone.

“Y-yeah, I’m free, yeah.”

You unlocked your phone “Great! give me your number and I’ll text you. You can choose the restaurant if you want.”

You exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes. Your heart thumped in your chest as you made your way out of the museum, glancing back to the gift shop to catch him staring. What an interesting individual you thought as you walked inside the tube, your plans to go out to eat cancelled at the prospect of a date with Steven.

A few hours later your phone pinged and you leaped from your sofa to grab the phone, struggling to draw the unlock pattern in the first try. Your new book fell to the ground with a thud and you cursed and picked it up, inspecting the pages, hoping non of them folded. Then you turned all you attention back to your phone reading the message on the screen “Aldgate East at 6?” you couldn’t help but smile. You quickly typed your answer “yeah!” and went to your room to start getting ready, nervousness already creeping in your stomach.

Your boots clicked on the stairs as you made your way out of the tube station. You heart thumped heavily on your chest and you didn’t know if it was a mixture of excitement and anxiety or just anxiety. The wind blowed, lifting your skirt and leaving half of your ass on display for everyone to see. Great outfit choice for a windy night, you mumbled to yourself while you the skirt down with your hands. You looked around trying to do some damage control. And then you spotted him. He was looking at you, trying to suppress a laugh as he came closer. He had clearly seen it, your ass, you mean.

He looked stunning. He was wearing a black button up shirt and black jeans and, in his hand, he had a beautifully arranged flower bouquet, mostly conformed by wild flowers. You smiled nervously as you got closer to him. Please don't say anything, please, please.

“Hi” you said a little embarrassed.

“Hi, you look gorgeous” he said, his cheeks turning rosy, as he handed you the flower bouquet.

You grabbed it “It’s beautiful Steven, thank you.” You e the flowers, pink, yellow, orange, incredibly pretty. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” you winked and he chuckled.

“Shall we go?” You nodded as you took a deep breath, mentally thanking him for being so discreet.

The restaurant was nearby. You walked side by side, your arm looped around his with your hand resting on his forearm. The conversation flowed with ease. He was sweet, considerate, a very good listener and, most importantly, his taste for restaurants was exquisite. You talked about your hobbies, your life, your jobs. He was so passionate about everything, it was a breath of fresh air in your worn out day to day routine. He showed kindness in everything he did, he was gentle and patient and it warmed your heart to see a soul like his had managed to survive in this fast and dull society. You insisted on splitting the bill but he grabbed your purse and didn’t give it back until you were out the restaurant.

“You’re a prick!” you said snatching it back from his hands while you laughed.

He shrugged “Maybe” he said smiling as he offered his arm for you to grab again on the walk back to the station. You slid your hand down from his forearm and slipped it into his pocket, grabbing his and interlocking your fingers.

“I’ll let you win this time but next time I’m paying.” you said as you leaned your head on his shoulder. His heart fluttered at the sweet gesture and he squeezed your hand.

“Will there be a next time?” he turned to look at your face.

“Was it that bad?” you joked as you looked at him quizzically. You really liked to mess with him, it brought out the sarcastic Steven and it was amazing.

“I mean could’ve been better but I’m not complaining”

You nudged his side with your elbow and laughed loudly “Hey! You’re paying next time then.”

He smiled triumphantly “Oh, no, what a shame.”

The rest of the walk was silent but comfortable. You gave each other little hand squeezes from time to time, exchanging glances and shying away when your eyes met, enjoying the cold London breeze and savoring the last moments of that perfect night. You didn’t want it to end. You dreaded the thought of going back home, being alone. It felt like leaving the amusement park as a child, everything is exciting and new and fun and home seemed like a boring, mediocre place.

“Well…” he said as you got to the station “I guess this is it.”

You both stared at each other, none of you wanting to say goodbye. He brought you hand to his lips and kissed your knuckles softly, his eyes never leaving yours. You took a steady breath, trying to control the part of your brain that was screaming for you to step forward and crash your lips to his but to no avail. You slid you hand from his grasp and ran it through his hair before cupping the side of his face. His light stubble was rough against your palm and you rubbed your thumb against his cheek as he leaned into your touch.

“I had such a fun time.” you whispered, unsure if he could even hear you but he did.

“Me too.”

You took a step closer careful not to crush the flowers between your bodies. He breathed in shakily. You were staring deep into his eyes, drunk on the feeling of his body, so close to yours.

“Can I?” he asked as his hands rested on your hips.

“Please” you breathed with your mouth barely inches apart from his. His mind reeled at your words, playing out all the different scenarios in which you would plead at him just like that. The thought of it made him dizzy.

He kissed you softly, holding himself back, not wanting to be too much too soon but you weren’t having any of it. You dropped your hand to the back of his neck and held him in place, opening your mouth to allow his tongue to explore the new territory. His fingers sunk into your hips as he deepened the kiss. It was desperate, not only from his side, from yours too. You pulled at his lower lip before parting the kiss and you stared at him, his breathing raged and his eyes filled with lust.

“Wow” you breathed as you smiled to each other

“yeah, wow” he chuckled.

“wanna to go back to my place?” you asked, hopeful that he would say yes. Instead he looked at you with panicked eyes, a worried expression plastered across his face.

“I’m sorry, love, I can’t.” he said, feeling doomed the second he saw your smile falter and a hint of disappointment clouding your eyes

“Oh…”

His hand reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “Other time, I promise” but he couldn’t really promise and he hated himself for lying to you. All he really needed was time. Time to figure out what the hell was going on. Time to explain it to you. Time for you to process everything. He leaned to kiss you again, this time a small peck.

“It’s okay, Steven, don’t worry.” you composed yourself, feeling a bit stupid for having that reaction over such a silly thing. “Thanks again for the flowers and the lovely evening.” you smiled sweetly at him and he smiled back.

“You’re welcome beautiful. Call me when you get home, yeah?” he said before pecking your lips one last time and watching you walk down the stairs. As he watched you he remembered the skirt incident and chuckled to himself as his face turned red once again. What a woman, he thought as he started walking back to his apartment, his hands on his pockets, his brain going over the whole evening, trying to remember every little detail.

“Mom is going to be so happy when I tell her.”

#steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight x reader #steven grant fanfic #marc spector fanfic #oscar isaac #steven grant imagine #marc spector imagine #moon knight #moon knight fanfic

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fbfh · 3 years ago

Text

rocks at your window pt. 3 - ricky bowen x reader

disclaimer: his series contains smut (and warnings chapter by chapter) so as with all nsfw/smutty/steamy works, all characters are aged up to 18+ (ricky and reader are 18 and in their senior year)

!! contains referenced spoilers for s1e4 of hsmtmts, and previous parts of this fic !!

wc: 6.2k (get coffee and a snack it's a wild ride)

genre: smut, domestic fluff/slice of life, more smut

pairing: ricky bowen x (afab/she her) reader

warnings: brief mention of ricky's mom, allusions to previous sex, discussions of previous sex, wet dream, gratuitous handjob scene, one good boy, a lot of swearing, research (specifically on how to eat someone out), female recieving oral/pussy eating, multiple orgasms, takeout, I barely know anything about videogames, m/f penatrative sex, off screen aftercare, ricky almost says something during sex that he probably shouldn't say right then (lmk if I missed anything I'm not reading through this again)

summary: Ricky has a really nice dream about you. He knows it didn't really happen, but he's still determined to return the favor by eating you out on your bedroom floor.

song rec: washing machine heart - mistki, the (shipped) gold standard - fall out boy, permanence - bears in trees

a/n: boy fucking howdy this one's a lot and I have one thing to say: you got a big storm coming. this is about to get so messy so fast. also the lines ricky recites in his dream are supposed to be a recreation of dream gibberish you forget as soon as you wake up yk.

also spot the new girl, mitski, and parks and rec references (I think that's all of them lol)

btw here's the dr. phil clip red's telling ricky abt in the beginning

edit: how did I forget to include washing machine heart in the song recs?????????

tags: @afidiofobia @aliyahsutherland @matiere-detoiles @ifilwtmfc @uselesssapphickitten @nxstalgicnxbxdy @ggclarissa@hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

You drop Ricky and Big Red off with a duffle bag of Ricky’s stuff, and a shared google calendar for coordinating rehearsals, Big Red’s weekend shifts, and sleepover schedules, and a collective sigh of relief that his mother wasn’t home when you all went to his house. You finally head back to your place, and as he starts to get settled, he finds it harder and harder to not blurt out ‘hey, by the way, we had sex the other night!’.

“And for the past - I don’t even know how many years - she’s been making everything about her self-inflicted medical issues!”

“For real?” He asks, halfheartedly, trying to figure out how to tell Red about what happened between you two.

“Yeah! Her daughter was spilling her guts, like mom, it’s always been about you, and she literally said, you don’t know what I’ve been through. Does she not realize she’s just proving her daughter’s point?”

He pays as much attention as he can to Big Red’s summary of the Dr. Phil episode he saw on friday night. The same friday night that you two had ravaged each other's bodies, Big Red had been watching Dr. Phil. It gives him perspective, making the memories feel more real. He lets out a breathy chuckle. He’d replayed that night, and every moment with you since, so much he was sure he’d wear the memories out soon. He takes in a breath to tell Red, but falters.

A part of him wants to keep that as a special moment just for you two. He doesn’t want that magical bubble you’d been engulfed in to pop. But he knows there’s no way he can keep a secret from Big Red, especially one this monumental.

‘Okay,’ he thinks, ‘I don’t have to tell him everything…’

“So…” he says, cutting himself off with another flustered laugh. He’d been doing that a lot lately. One look at him and Big Red knows something’s up.

“Yeah…?” Red says, an anticipatory smile on his face.

“So,” he starts again, “the other day when I left your house in the middle of the night - I’m really sorry about that, by the way-”

“Don’t worry, dude, I get it,” he interjects with a smile, and Ricky continues.

“I…” he chuckles, gaze floating around the room. “I ended up going to Sharpay’s house.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, after I tried to kiss Nini-”

“You kissed Nini?!”

“I tried to, but…” he shrugs, not wanting to get hung up on the details. He hasn’t even gotten to the good part yet. He feels the ghost of your touch over his skin once again, and explains how he found himself at your house in the middle of the night.

“And… we kinda messed around a little…” he chuckles, cheeks flushed, hand on the back of his neck. Realization sets in, and Big Red’s eyes go wide with shock.

“Oh my god… did you two kiss?” he says it in a hushed voice, and Ricky laughs at his underestimation.

“We did more than that.”

“You made out?” he questions, curiosity more than piqued.

“Yeah, but… we didn’t just make out.”

“Makeout sesh, no tops.” he states, confident he’s got it this time. Ricky turns to him unable to keep himself from spilling his guts any longer.

“We slept together. Like, slept together.” Red stares at him in disbelief. “Like… we had sex.” he breathes.

“Oh… my… god.”

It’s silent for a moment as this fact sinks in. Red can’t deny that it’s a shock. In spite of their name, nothing ever wild really happens to the east high wildcats. There aren’t a lot of parties, much less ragers, there’s no fighting or scandals, which has always been considered a good thing. East high is a good school, where nothing ever happens.

He realizes the shockwaves this will send through the drama department (if not further throughout the school) if anyone finds out that Ricky Bowen lost his virginity to someone that’s not Nini. They’ve been together since everyone started school, and the last big drama before this… was their breakup, he recalls. Fully understanding that they’re essentially sitting on a landmine of information, he can’t hold back his curiosity any longer. He needs details now.

“What was it like?” he asks Ricky, both smiling like idiots for different reasons.

“It… it was as good as people say it is… better.” he amends, remembering waking up next to you that morning. In spite of knowing he has a shift at Slices soon, he can’t stop the torrent of questions he has. He hangs on to Ricky’s every word as he rants and rambles about you. He didn’t realize Ricky was this eloquent, but half the stuff he’s saying sounds like it’s straight out a poetry book.

Red was honestly a little nervous when Ricky first told him, mostly because he was worried his first time was a rebound with a girl he’d just be hung up on, but he thinks back to how much you’ve done for Ricky over the past week, how genuinely happy he seems now, and sticks to his previous conclusion - you have his seal of approval. Now, if nothing goes horribly wrong, maybe the rest of the show will go smoothly; you and Ricky will be happy together, Nini will be able to focus on the show, and… whatever Gina and EJ are up to will (hopefully) amount to nothing.

Yeah. Everything will be fine.

Eventually, after learning more than he ever had in health class, he has to leave for his shift at Slices.

“I’ll be back in a couple hours,” he says, grabbing his backpack, “or you can sneak into Sharpay’s room if you want some company,” he wiggles his eyebrows and Ricky laughs and agrees.

It’s only after the front door closes, and Ricky is alone, curled up on a bean bag in his best friend’s room that he realizes how tired he is. He doesn’t plan to fall asleep, but like so many other things, it just sort of happens.

In that surreal and unquestioning way the locations of dreams so often do, Ricky finds himself in his house, the way it was when he was younger, before his mom redecorated. At the bottom of the stairs, just past the living room, it blends seamlessly into the theater at school. He finds himself in the wings, entering the stage, script in hand.

He’s trying to find his place in the scene but the script is unfamiliar and he can’t make out the lines. His costume is uncomfortable and feels awkward, his street clothes obvious below the ill fitting fabric.

He looks between his script and the audience, trying to find his place. It’s a packed full house, full of people anticipating what’s to come. A moment later it’s empty, not one seat filled. It continues to fluctuate, people are paying rapt attention, then they’re not, they’re excited then critical.

Suddenly, you’re on stage behind him. You get really close, and begin to whisper lines and scenes and page numbers into his ear. You direct him carefully, helping him get his bearings. Moments later, he’s reciting his lines better than he ever has, feeling at ease in the spotlight and in costume. He glances out into the audience.

His parents are there, then they’re not. He doesn’t stop, doesn’t slow down. He continues to repeat the lines you read him over his shoulder, surprised at how unaffected he is by their presence, or lack thereof.

The audience is empty once again, and your hands slowly snake their way around his torso. His heart speeds up as you begin slowly and idly undoing the buttons on his shirt. Your touch is hot, warming his skin and sending heat into all the right places. His chest is soon exposed, the stage lights acting like heat lamps.

Your fingertips ghost over his chest and stomach, touch feather light and barely palpable, as a throbbing hot tension grows in his core. You travel down to the waist of his pants, palming him through the fabric as you tell him the next line. He lets out a moan as his cock strains, desperate for more friction.

"We'll never be bauble, not situationally," you repeat the line, coaxing him to speak it out into the empty auditorium. He tries to focus, somehow managing to repeat the line, breathy and studded with moans.

Your voice, light and much too casual for the circumstances, is quiet as it hits his ear.

"Good boy," you praise him easily, voice like honey. You pull him out finally, stroking his cock with one hand, the other coming down to play gently with his balls. You continue to stroke him and his hips buck into your hand, desperate for your touch. You continue to barely touch him, and it builds up heat and tension like he’s never felt before.

Much to his momentary dismay, you move your hand from its steady pace stroking him away to drag your fingers along the underside of his cock, tracing a vein that throbs as soon as you come into contact with it. He moans again, louder, cock dripping onto your soft skin. You continue feeding him lines that he barely follows, murmuring praise into his ears. Your hand moves again, this time making its way up to the head of his cock, flushed and throbbing. He bites his lip in a futile attempt to stop the increasing volume of his moans as you rub the palm of your hand flat over the tip. A gesture that would have been soothing on any other part of his body, instead has him grinding and bucking his hips into your soft hands.

"F-fuck!" He cries out, head thrown back as he finally cums into your hand. You bite down on his neck, sucking on the skin and drawing another pretty moan from his throat as he throbs uncontrollably, pumping out ribbons of cum.

Finally, you turn to face each other. He moves quickly, unable to keep himself from touching you for another moment, and pulls you close. In one swift movement, he hikes up your leg and begins to thrust into you. You both lean back as the scene shifts and changes, and you let out a moan.

Before he can take in his new surroundings, he's pulled back to consciousness. He stares at the ceiling, and blinks. The rousing throbbing in his crotch begins to subside. He starts to sit up slowly, suddenly very aware of the sticky dampness in his pants.

"Fuck…" he breathes in annoyance.

He gets up to clean himself up and wash his clothes, stumbling a step when he stands up. The muscles in his lower stomach are still sore and tense, and he swears he can feel your touch. Cheeks flushed, he lets out a laugh at the situation. He somehow manages to clean himself up, throw his clothes in the wash, and put on something clean. He barely pays attention to anything while he does, still entirely wrapped up in your touch that he’d been dreaming about moments before.

Still in the laundry room, washer humming rhythmically, he leans against the cool metal, sliding down to the floor. He stares at nothing in particular, reminiscing already over the events of his dream. He replays it shot for shot in his mind, already overwhelmed with desire to make you feel as good as you made him feel. Curiosity strikes, and he pulls out his phone, opening private browsing and typing in a quick search. He clicks on a link, reading the bold heading.

How to eat someone out - really, really well.

His eyes skate over the words, taking in the information, analyzing diagrams. He studies everything carefully, eventually moving to another article, just to make sure none of the information contradicts. Before he knows it, he’s read a dozen articles, watched a handful of instructional videos, scoured an AskReddit thread on the topic, and stumbled across a meme reading, ‘if you press the clitoris and g-spot at the same time, the vagina takes a screenshot and saves you in her memory forever’. Huh. He opens a new note in his phone, ensuring he makes it password protected.

Tip 1: kiss your way down!

He skims over the highlights one more time.

Tip 3: the clitoris is your best friend!

He copies down all the important information he’s found so far, making a mental note to go over it in more detail later. Soon, he can’t help his mind from wandering. He tilts his head back against the rumbling frame of the washing machine. He wonders how good he could make you feel, if he could get you to pull his hair again… he wonders how you taste. Would you want him to go down on you? He hopes you would. He wonders if he could get you to moan his name. His heart speeds up at the thought.

He traces the hickey you gave him again, already beginning to fade, and he’s flooded with the desire for your touch. He wishes more than anything he could hold you again, that he could go back to that night. He’s overcome with a melancholic longing for you, to touch you and kiss you and feel your nails down his back again. He wants so badly to feel you again, for all your imagined touch and contact to be real.

It can be.

The realization surprises him. He realizes these memories aren’t imagined, not all of them. You’ve actually had sex before… maybe you’ll want to again. Will you want to again?

Before his thoughts spiral further, his phone buzzes in his hand. He checks the screen, and his cheeks flush as your name pops up on his phone.

Have you decided where you’re crashing tonight?? I need to know how much takeout to get lol

He smiles to himself. Your timing is impeccable as ever. He types out a reply, hoping you’ll want to spend some time together, and lets out a giggle as you reply instantly with a hell yeah!!, and plans to pick him up from Big Red’s.

Soon, he’s greeted with your familiar car, and even more familiar smile, warming him like summer sunshine.

“Hey!” you greet, as he gets in the passenger side.

“Hey,” he replies with a smile, taking in what a lovely sight you are.

“So,” you begin, “I was thinking we get some Sonic, then head back to my place for videogames and procrastinating homework…” and he agrees with a laugh. You pick up right where you left off, talking as you begin to drive. It feels like no time has passed since you last saw each other - granted it was only a number of hours, but it felt like much longer without you. You talk practically nonstop, enjoying each other’s company and trying not to laugh over nothing when you pick up the food you ordered. You pull out of the Sonic drive through, noticing you’re not too far from your favorite cafe. You turn to Ricky, giving him a look.

“Do you think we have time to stop by Blue Diner before they close? I don’t know about you, but I am really craving a peach scone.”

I wonder how she’d taste… the thought from earlier returns full force.

“Yeah,” he breathes, watching you as you stare ahead at the road, “I’m craving one, too.” You giggle, the sound hitting his ears like a melody, as you turn right, heading down to Blue Diner cafe. One of you had started playing music at some point, and as it inevitably always seems to, the high school musical stage soundtrack now pumps out of your car speakers, both of you singing along, harmonizing and duetting your way through the first several tracks before you finally arrive and park.

You enter the building, laughing over something or other, and after a few short minutes of waiting for your order, you’re greeted with two peach scones, and a “come again soon!” from the very tired looking girl behind the counter. You stop at the toy machine, inserting enough change for two capsules, then follow Ricky to the exit.

“Thanks again, good night!” you call to the barista, who waves in response.

Soon Ricky’s closing the back door of your house behind you.

“Thanks,” you state as he watches you set down the takeout you carried in on the kitchen counter, “There’s no way I could have brought all this in myself.” you muse.

“Hey, I am happy to help you carry takeout any time.” You smile, and he reaches past you, grabbing something from one of the paper bags, “As long as I can have some of your fries,” he states, holding out half the fry for you. You open your mouth, and he places it past your lips, his cheeks suddenly flushed. You scurry over to the doorway, and he’s still wrapped up in how oddly intimate this whole evening with you has been.

“Mom,” you call, “we’re home!” Ricky doesn’t hear her reply, but you follow up a moment later, “We got you Sonic!”

She enters the kitchen, and the timing of her arrival makes Ricky laugh. You hand her a paper bag, and she kisses your cheek.

“Thank you, sweetie,” she says, making her way to the sink. She pauses to give Ricky a half hug, holding her mostly empty coffee mug far enough away so it won’t spill on him.

“Hi, Ricky,” she chuckles a greeting, which he returns.

“Hi,” he replies. She moves to the sink to wash her coffee cup - one of many she’d had throughout the day.

“There was another filibuster during the meeting, so of course we barely got anything done.” Your mom says, filling you in on some petition for something or other they’ve been trying to get passed.

“Don’t tell me it was Garth again,” you say, already knowing the answer.

“Yup.” she states, with a look. You let out a scoff.

“God, is he ever going to let you guys catch a break?” You ask rhetorically.

“Not if he and his associates have anything to say about it…” she states, with a roll of her eyes. You both chuckle as she pours herself yet another cup of coffee.

“I’m going to be working late to get this paperwork done on time, so I have to head back to City Hall for a while, I’ll text you when I get home.” she informs, and you acknowledge with an understanding nod, “But enough bureaucracy, how was rehearsal?” she stirs her coffee, the mood instantly picking up.

“Well,” you laugh, sharing a look with Ricky, “we finally finished the blocking for act 2, so that’s something…”

“That bad?”

“It’s… rough,” Ricky supplies, “but we’re getting there.” She wags a finger at him supportively.

“That’s the kind of optimism we like to see,” she smiles, passing by you towards the doorway, “I’m just going to grab some papers, then I’ll head out. You can fill me in on the details later.” She gives you a very discrete look that Ricky almost misses, and you nod in agreement.

He’s sure your mom knows you and Big Red got his stuff from his house earlier in the day, and wants to know how it went. Thankfully there won’t be much to tell her. He’d been dreading it earlier, and now seeing that neither of you are making it a big deal provides him with a much needed sense of normalcy. His body heats up as he thinks about how you always manage to handle every uncomfortable situation so gracefully.

“Okay, text me when you get there,” you smile, giving her one more hug before she heads out. He watches you grab your food, scone, and what remains of your slushy, and start to head upstairs, and his heart catches in his throat. You turn back to him with a look that could stop time.

“You coming?” you ask.

“Uh, yeah.” he snaps out of it, grabbing his food and following you up to your room.

He takes in the familiar surroundings the way he always seems to when he enters, immediately feeling at ease. As you get settled, you reach into your jacket pocket, remembering the toys. You toss him one, popping your capsule open.

“A plastic dinosaur,” he announces, holding up the bright blue figurine. The overjoyed look on your face as you stare at your prize immediately has his attention. Your gazes lock as you hold up a tiny plastic skateboard. You take his hand, and his chest gets warm. You roll the little board up and down his hand, letting out a delighted chuckle.

“The wheels work and everything…” you look up at him suddenly, eyes boring into his, “You have to teach me to skate at some point.”

He lets out a warm laugh, smiling, and after a moment, he processes what you just said.

“Wait, for real?”

“Yeah.” you confirm, crossing your room to a shoebox on a shelf, “I’ve always wanted to learn, and who better to teach me than Ricky the ultimate skateboarder?”

You set it next to the shoebox containing your other trinkets from the cafe, hearing the sweet flustered laugh that escapes him as you do. You see the white plastic bag still sitting on your desk, black and red lettering distorted by the folds in the material. You take the blue rectangular cases out, examining the cover art.

“So, what are we thinking; GTA, assassin’s creed, uncharted, mario kart…?” you muse, looking up at him for input. He’s surprised.

“I didn’t know you play videogames,” he replies, smiling as you shrug, looking at the floor.

“I… I don’t, really - besides mario kart.” he chuckles, and you continue, “Big Red mentioned how much you like them, and which ones are your favorite, and I already had a couple for when my cousins come to visit, so, I… you know, I figured it was a good move.” You hand him the cases to look at, continuing.

“I mean, I don’t know if you can transfer save files from one console to another, or if you just have to log in, but I thought it’d be nice.” you tidy up your desk absentmindedly as you ramble, needing something to do with your hands. Ricky looks between the game cases in his hand and the way you straighten up your pencil cup and tuck miscellaneous items back where they belong.

“And, I mean, you did a really, really good job with everything today. That would have been hard for anyone, but especially with what you’ve been going through…"

He watches you continue to ramble, praise falling from your lips like flower petals. He feels so warm when you speak to him; your voice, your attention, your presence, it all feels so good. You make his cheeks warm, then his chest…

“...And obviously if I can make this any easier for you, of course I’m going to.”

That warmth continues, going down, down, down…

“You’re an amazing person, and you really don’t deserve all this-”

He knows it would be pretty risky, he knows he should wait until the perfect moment when everything’s all soft and romantic, because you deserve nothing less than that. But hearing your words, sweeter than honey and only for him, dear god he’s so tempted to do everything you could want him to. His mind is suddenly a torrent of every good thing he wants to make you feel, the overwhelming desire to have you grab his hair and scratch at his back, to be the sole source of your pleasure. It’s when you kneel down to the floor to pick up a pen you dropped, and you look up at him for a split second that he can’t hold himself back anymore.

“You just have to deal with this stuff as it comes up, but it doesn’t mean you…”

In an instant, he’s crouching in front of you, hands on your cheeks, and your words evaporate. His face is so close to yours, and his pupils are dilated as he studies your expression.

Your cheeks are warm under his hands, a ghost of a smile on your soft, beautiful lips that he wants so badly to touch. You’re surprised, pleasantly so at the suddenness of the change in the atmosphere, and it’s only when your eyes flicker between his and his lips that he finally lets himself close the distance between you.

He kisses you feverishly, and with something to prove. His lips are warm and soft against yours, and he angles his head to kiss you deeper and deeper. Your hands come up to his shoulders, a warm and familiar feeling. Your lips part, and his tongue begins to make its way into your mouth, leaving you feeling warm and full. One hand still on your jaw, his other trails down to the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. You feel his chest pressed up against yours, and your heart speeds up a little. You let out a breathy sigh, which only seems to spur him on further.

He continues kissing you with everything he’s got, and soon he’s lowering you down until you’re flat against your bedroom floor. He only pulls away for a moment, gazing at you, committing your face to memory. Your thumb strokes his cheek, and you watch his eyes flutter closed at the contact.

“God,” he mutters, eyes closed and eyebrows scrunched as he smiles, lips back on yours again in an instant. His lips dance against yours, frantic and passionate, eventually trailing down your neck to the spot that made you gasp the last time he kissed you like this. He holds you close, feeling you up as you let out another breathy sigh, louder this time. He takes in a breath to murmur something in your ear, but he falters, and it escapes as a soft moan instead. His hands slip under your shirt, then down to the waist of your pants. As he opens them up and slips his hand down the soft denim, cupping your heat, he’s overwhelmed with how badly he’s craving you. He can’t hold it back anymore, blurting out what he’s been thinking about all day.

“I wanna taste you,” he says finally, groaning in your ear, rushed and excited. You look at him, making sure you heard him right.

“I really,” he says again, in between kissing his way down your neck, “really wanna taste you…”

He looks up at you, and you nod, an excited smile blooming on your face.

“Yeah?” you ask, and he nods in confirmation.

“Yeah,” he murmurs back, smiling. His lips are back on your neck in an instant, hands pushing up your shirt, hovering on your chest. He gently gropes the soft, pillowy mounds, thumbs rubbing circles over your nipples, sending little shots of electricity down to your core. He grabs your hips, propping you up slightly as he pulls down your jeans and underwear, causing you to let out a surprised giggle.

His breath fans over your chest as he plants hot kisses across your clavicle, trailing down your sternum. His hands move from your chest to grab a firm hold on your waist as he kisses down your stomach in a way that has you already dripping with arousal and anticipation. He trails his hands down, grabbing the back of your thighs, and guiding them wider. He gives them a squeeze, cherishing the noise you make when he does.

He continues to kiss his way down from your lower stomach, finally pressing a hot, open mouthed kiss against your dripping heat, then licking a long, slow stripe up to your clit. You taste better than he could have possibly imagined, and he already wants more. The moan that escapes your throat at the contact is the nicest noise he’s ever heard. He wants you to make it again. He dives back in, licking and sucking your clit like you’ve never experienced.

He can’t get enough, and neither can you. Your hips squirm, desperate for more friction, and one hand moves from your thigh to hold you down as he continues to draw noise after beautiful noise out of you. His other hand moves to your heat, spreading around your sticky wetness, edging your empty hole.

Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging gently as he sucks on the bundle of nerves. He wants to ask if that feels good, wants to ask if you like that, but he can’t bring himself to stop devouring you for even a second. He’s addicted to you, no question.

“Ricky…” you breathe, and he knows you’re close. He mutters something you can’t quite make out, vibrations from his voice sending you over the edge. You spasm, hips bucking wildly, and you’re grateful he’s holding them down. He continues to lick and grind his face against you, carrying you through your high. You pant, body tingling and light from the intensity of your orgasm.

Ricky slows down, pulling away for a mere moment to process the fact that he just made you cum like that with his mouth. He’s barely pulled his mouth away from you and he already misses the way you taste. He dives back in without a second thought, lapping up all the sweet honey he just drew out of you.

“Oh god,” your moans are music to his ears, encouraging him even more, “fuck…” you pant, letting out a blissful laugh, that quickly turns into another moan. He brings his fingers back to where they were before, teasing you as his tongue darts in and out. He drags his tongue out of your hole, replacing it a moment later with his fingers. They reach so deep inside you, and he begins to curl them slowly against your pulsing walls, tongue back on your clit. It’s slower this time, more gentle. Your increased sensitivity from your previous orgasm makes the soft, sensual touch overwhelming in the best possible way.

“F-fuck!” you gasp, tugging on his hair. His cock is throbbing, straining against his pants. Everything you do, every noise you let out, makes it harder. His grip on your hip tightens as he continues to curl his fingers inside you. He finds the spot that feels slightly different, and focuses his attention there.

“Fuck, Ricky!” you moan, head thrown back. Your walls slowly clench around him, and he knows you’re close. You look down as you tug on his hair, locking eyes. He continues gently sucking on your swollen bud.

“Tell me,” he prompts, murmuring against your skin, “does that feel good?” You feel him smirk against your burning flesh as you answer.

“Yes,” you moan, “god, yes…”

His words bring you close. He remembers the images saved in the locked note in his phone. If you press the clitoris and g-spot at the same time, the vagina takes a screenshot and saves you in her memory forever. He knows it’s a joke, but the idea of being saved in your memory forever is too tempting. His lips pop off your hot puffy flesh, thumb taking their place.

He lightly touches your clit while stroking your g-spot, and before you can moan his name again, your walls are convulsing around him, squeezing his fingers so tightly he can’t move them.

“Oh fuck! Shit, Ricky!” you babble out blissed out curses, studded with moans, and he really, to his core wishes he could listen to nothing else forever. Your body is buzzing and you swear you can see stars. You seem to have caught your breath a little, and he’s already lowering his head again, wanting your taste on his tongue.

“Ricky…” you laugh, hands tugging on his hair again, this time pulling him up to look at you, “Ricky!” Your laugh is infectious, and he feels a giggle bubbling out of him. One hand is tangled in his hair, the other resting on his cheek as you gaze at him, and he’s never felt better in his life than he does right now. You have his full attention as he waits for you to complete your thought.

“I want your cock,” you breathe, “want it inside me.” Before the words have even finished leaving your pretty lips, he’s climbed up to you, lips hovering over yours. He memorizes you for a split second, the look on your face, the way your hair frames your head like a halo. He’s once again overwhelmed with desire and kisses you, mouth open, without another thought. You taste yourself on his lips, and you think he’s never tasted better. This time it’s your tongue poking past his lips, and the feeling leaves him weak.

It’s only when you pull his hips down into yours, and he grinds gently against your soft exposed flesh, that he realizes how badly his cock is throbbing. He pulls away more reluctantly than he’s pulled away from anyone, knowing if he keeps this up he’ll cream his pants for the second time today. He reaches for your nightstand, where he knows - from experience - that you have some condoms. He kneels back pulling down his jeans and boxers. You watch, mesmerized, as his cock, hard and red, dripping precum is freed. He opens the condom, and you both laugh as he slides it on, remembering the last time you’d both struggled to open the allegedly easy to open packets.

He lines himself up with your entrance, not bothering to pump himself beforehand. He leans down, hovering over you as he begins to thrust into you. As soon as your walls squeeze around him, he lets out a hiss of air. He buries his face in the crook of your neck in an attempt to muffle the loud string of moans as he begins rolling his hips, feverishly humping into you.

“F-fuck,” he moans into your ear, as warmth rapidly generates between you. Your body presses into his, and he can’t get enough of the feeling. He presses messy kisses along your jaw and neck, sucking hickies into your perfect skin. You run your hands up and down his back, lifting up his shirt in that way that sets off fireworks in his brain. You feel so good and you’re always so nice… his breath is taken away by how good you are, how good you are to him. You lightly drag your nails down his back, and in his hazy euphoric brain fogged state, he detaches his lips from your neck to kiss you again.

“I love…” he breathes against your lips, and his stomach does a flip flop. The words are out before he can even think about them, and the split second pause where he tries to figure out what to put at the end of the sentence other than the word he’s obviously biting back feels like an eternity.

“...When you do that.”

It’s true, he does love when you scratch his back like that. He presses kisses to your jawline, hoping you don’t see his nervous expression. You let out a soft chuckle, and he can tell you’re smiling. You drag your nails down his skin again, and his cock pulses inside you. You moan again, one hand playing with his hair. He gets lost in the feeling of your fingers raking through his hair, speeding up as he gets closer.

“Ricky,” you breathe as a warning as he continues to hit that spot inside you, and you clench around him, legs shaking as you climax yet again. A moment later he buries his face in your neck, letting out a torrent of moans as he cums hard. His stomach clenches, as he gently rides you both through your highs. You stay like that for a minute, coming down from each other’s intoxicating touch.

Shortly after, when you’re both cleaned up and sitting on your bed, you remember your food. You open up a container, handing one to Ricky.

“I knew we were forgetting something,” you muse, a comedic lilt to your voice. He chuckles, opening his up and inspecting it.

“It’s definitely cold now,” he nods. You laugh, popping a fry in your mouth.

“I think cold takeout is only really good when it’s post-sex.”

“Yeah,” he laughs, agreeing wholeheartedly, “pretty much.” He watches you as you hand him a controller, grabbing the other one, and booting up your gaming console.

“So, you gonna teach me how to play assassin’s creed, or what?”

He’s not sure how you do it, how you always manage to create such a comfortable atmosphere just by being in a room, but he cherishes it so deeply. With the way he feels around you, he’d think he had never had a single problem in his life. You provide such an integral sense of reassurance, and comfort, and stability that he has no idea how he ever lived without it. Without you. He knows that he feels more at home with you than anywhere else right now.

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stephobrien · 3 years ago

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I posted 1,816 times in 2021

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#my father drilled it into my head that you never enter woods where people might be hunting without wearing something bright orange

My Top Posts in 2021

So I just realized something weird about two lines from Subnautica: Below Zero...

In one set of dialogue, Al-An describes themselves as "a lone string in search of familiar harmonies."

But when you build and use a jukebox, they ask you what music is.

If they don't know what music is, how do they know to describe themselves as a string in search of harmonies?

88 notes • Posted 2021-06-19 22:25:50 GMT

Ready to Leave the Past Behind (Subnautica: Below Zero spoilers)

I’ve seen a few people complain about how, at the end of the game, it seems like Robin just throws her whole past life away to run off into the unknown with a person she recently met.

This is a valid concern; she clearly has a job, at least one friend who was willing to risk pissing off Alterra to help her, and – assuming he’s still alive – her dead sister’s cat. It wouldn’t be right to pretend all that doesn’t matter just because she spent a few weeks playing build-a-buddy, especially given that she promised Cal she’d find her way back.

But there are several pieces of lore and dialogue that make me think flying away with Al-An is both the most sensible and the most in-character thing for Robin to do – IF she first says goodbye to her friends and retrieves her cat.

1. Getting yeeted into the unknown is normal for her.

In the voicelog “Minerals galore”, Robin says, “I didn't want another situation like Byzantos-5. When XenoWorx dropped me off, there were barely any resources. I survived off the land for three months with just a knife, my lucky PDA, and some rope. I am still kind of proud of that, though.”

XenoWorx also promises that Alterra buying a controlling stake will give them “More equipment. More research. More risk. More experimentation.” The fact that “more risk” is listed as a selling point says a lot about the type of people who sign up there. And speaking of said buyout…

2. Robin has some damn good reasons NOT to go back.

Robin never trusted Alterra. She knew they’d clip her wings, and she expressed concern that they’d “Alterrorize” her sister.

After what she learned during her exploration of 4546B – an exploration that would probably get her in deep, expensive trouble if Alterra found out – she has even more reason to believe that if they get the chance, they’ll clip her wings, misuse her work, or both – or worse.

And now that they own a controlling stake in XenoWorx, they have that chance.

It’s implied that Alterra has already killed her enjoyment of working with XenoWorx. Consider the following bit of dialogue:

Al-An: Do all humans like work? Robin: The lucky ones do. Al-An: Are you lucky? Robin: I used to think I was.

Before Alterra got involved, her leaving her old life behind would’ve seemed off. Now, it seems more like sensible self-preservation.

3. Even if she DOES ultimately go home, it makes sense for her to leave with Al-An.

For one thing, her friend is potentially about to face either the loss or the wrath of their entire species, and she wants to support them through that painful period.

And for another, as she explicitly states, she doesn’t have another ride. She was probably originally planning to leave via the same shuttlecraft she came on, but then the meteor she was using to hide from Alterra split and ended that ship’s whole career.

So it is quite possible that she’ll go home and resume her old life, but personally, I much prefer the idea that she’ll do what she said she was ready to do, and leave the past behind.

Collect Potato, say goodbye to her friends (or, even better, find a way to stay in touch), and then leave Alterra in the dust to go do what she loves most: explore the universe and discover cool lifeforms, this time with a sapient space-faring alien at her side.

103 notes • Posted 2021-06-29 21:12:34 GMT

I recently finished the main quest of Skyrim's Dragonborn DLC, and I'm torn between:

"I kind of feel sorry for Miraak and wish I could have freed him (without endangering innocent lives by doing so)."

and

"He was a MYTHIC BITCH."

114 notes • Posted 2021-08-31 06:10:30 GMT

A few Ondolemar headcanons

1. Ondolemar is one direly lonely Mer who gets attached very easily.

His superior officers probably said, “OK, this guy is as determined as a Nord and is very serious about religion and eliminating heresy, so he could be of use to us in Skyrim. But he also gets instantly attached to anyone who’s nice to him, so we’ll need to station him somewhere where all the locals will hate his guts and he won’t have any non-Thalmor to bond with. …Oh, crap. That Blades agent was nice to him. Shit.”

2. He likes to talk, and has a head full of opinions and nobody who wants to hear about them. (Probably because he’s as blunt and undiplomatic as a giant’s club, haha.) So when the Dragonborn actually gives him the time of day and expresses interest in his thoughts, he’s delighted. When he says “You’re awfully inquisitive, aren’t you? I like that,” he’s being entirely sincere.

3. He honestly does see the Thalmor as a benevolent force, and believes the benefits of eliminating heresy outweigh the harm done in the process.

4. Unlike most Justiciars, he sincerely cares about not hurting people he sees as innocent, as evidenced by how quick he is to take the blame rather than get Razelan thrown out of Elenwen’s party.

(While a cut scene does have him threatening the Stormcloaks with slavery, his behavior toward Razelan makes me think those intentions are limited to the people who are actively killing Thalmor, not humanity as a whole. Still bad, but much better than the average Thalmor.)

5. The other Thalmor haven’t told him about the political aspects of the Talos ban or their deliberate attempts to stir up conflict in Skyrim.

This is partly because he wouldn’t approve of them using the gods as political pawns and deliberately driving people into the Talos-worshipping ranks of the Stormcloaks, and mostly because Commander No Filter would be too likely to blurt out their secrets in front of the Jarls.

6. Elenwen wants him dead. Maybe it’s their differing priorities, maybe it’s his inability to be diplomatic at her parties; whatever the reason, if she watches you give Markarth to the Stormcloaks in Season Unending, she sees her chance to be rid of Ondolemar, and rather than warning him, she sits back and waits for the Stormcloaks to kill him.

117 notes • Posted 2021-05-06 23:04:25 GMT

After listening to the dialogue that happens after Robin Ayou sleeps, I have a new headcanon about her and Al-An.

Sometime in her childhood, Robin was frightened by a clown. As a result, she has occasional nightmares about clowns as an adult, from which Al-An concludes that clowns are a humanoid species of natural predators that prey on humans.

Years later, they and Robin encounter a clown while visiting a human-inhabited planet. Al-An immediately takes a sharp step forward, splays all six mechanical arms in a terrifying threat display, and lifts the disguised human off the ground with their anti-gravity beam in an attempt to neutralize the Robin-eating predator.

They are thoroughly confused when their human friend hastily talks them down, hears their explanation for their actions, and then doubles over laughing.

195 notes • Posted 2021-06-16 01:16:25 GMT

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