#jawline for days folks

[wroteclassicaly]

Summary: A confession leads to unexpected heartbreak.

18+

Warnings: Language, smut, hurt/no comfort, one sided feelings, heartbreak, angst GALORE, self-esteem issues, mentions Steve’s past head trauma, insecurities on both sides, jealous Steve, mentions Nancy, best-friend!Reader w/ best-friend!Steve, and friends to lovers. This one hurts, folks!

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Female Reader

Word count: 3,985

A/N: No banner for this! Just some raw writing I did early into the hours of this morning/night, adding on some today. I wanted to try something different, so enjoy!

Note: Also posting this the day after I wrote it. Okay, lmaooooo.

“I love you, Steve.”

The words come easy to you, the courage taking years to build. But once they leave your mouth as you’re cradling his neck’s nape, playing with the chocolate curls that have grown out there, you cannot figure out why you wasted time not saying it. It’s been an ongoing thing between you two — a two year thing, in fact. Never any pushing for labels, no exclusivity. You were patient, he was giving, and you assumed you were both reading on the same page.

In a few minutes, however, you’d find out how very wrong that you were. You wished that your mouth and your legs had stayed closed around your best-friend, Steve Harrington.

It was a typical weekday, no dates planned, acting as if his last date hadn’t upset you, or that you enjoyed the one you forced yourself to go on with some guy, so that your feelings weren’t completely obvious. Sidenote: to mostly everyone but Steve, they kinda were. Steve had called you after your shift at the local Burger King, asking if you wanted to come over and spend the night. Not unusual. You always trade spending nights, rolling around on various surfaces, before enjoying breakfast together.

Intimate, casual, perfect.

Your answer was an automatic yes. A quick shower after work for you, a return phone call, and he’d gotten in his BMW, picked up some takeout, went to your door to get you, held your hand to the car, opened your damned door, and the dessert had been him between your thighs. This night in particular, it was one of pent up frustrations and desperations that had just one satiable cure. You ended up on top of Steve, his back pressed into the headboard, mutual clothes scattered all over his bed.

His shoulders became leverage, his massive palms spread out on either side of your waist, pinching the plush skin into his palming grip. Nose dusting across a defined nose bridge, caught in a cheekbone, with kisses rushed, deep, sloppily trying to stay focussed, but driven to reach that place buried inside one another.

Steve’s thighs provide a platform for you to sit upon, ankles locked around his back. He’s slippery with sweat, places you’d like to lick clean. You pull back from your cove to say it again, unable to stop yourself, going in for a kiss. You don’t think he heard, he’s humble sometimes, disbelieving in others. One hand cups his jaw, the other staying put to card through his hair, moisture pooling between your fingers.

“Hey? You still with me, big guy? I said I love you.” You’re smiling softly, thumbpad caressing his jawline. You feel it twitch, his shoulders tense.

Is he gonna cum? You know the signs. “Steve?” Something in your guts feels a little off. You ignore it.

“I know what you said. I heard you say it the first time.” He interrupts, tries to remain impassive, his hips slowing from your combined movements.

Like salt in the wound, a fresh slap to the face. No way.

“You heard me say that I love you?” You have to try one more time. He’s been hit in the head a lot, maybe he didn’t get it? He couldn’t have, right? Are you really this stupid, this dense?

You attempt to kiss him, to lay it all down through your actions, rather than your words this time, but your mouth doesn’t get the chance to meet him.

His lids flutter closed, he sighs, his face leaving yours, hands lifting off your body to wrap around your wrists, slowly untangling them from his neck. “Stop, alright?”

You feel your heart rate accelerate, your body tensing, your throat is choked with a teary panic, a bulldozer driving across your organs, settling atop you with its weight. Every single wall you still have built, they slowly shake off their cobwebs to rise from the dust, smothering you in the smoke. And he’s suddenly a very tight fit, to the point where you’re wincing, body immediately wanting, trying to push him out. He notices, one hand dropping to the side of your face. “Hey, hey. Hon —“ He stops himself, lets your nickname drop, falling back into your regular name.

He isn’t sure who that action hurts the most.

One look at your vacant expression and Steve feels as if he’s been sucker punched, that he’s the meanest version of himself he’s ever been.

He’s still inside of you, you let him into your body, you told him a sacred set of words. And this is what he’s doing to you? Hurting you to the point where your body starts to get frightened? But he couldn’t just come while you poured your heart out, he couldn’t continue like his world was normal anymore. He reaches down to wrap around his base, face wrinkling, teeth gritting. You’re so fucking tight that it hurts, his cock aches for you when he eases his way outward, dragging combined essences with him. “Let me just…” He starts, deep voice a rocky, rasp, finishing when his length is gone from your body, dripping with you onto his sheets, covering him.

Once he’s out, you’re already passed the point of overwhelming vulnerability. Your legs clamp closed, your hands cover your chest, unwillingly to wrap yourself in his damn sheet that smells like home to you. Steve is unsteady on his feet, halfway hard, but slowly softening at your nearly curled position. You aren’t looking at him, you won’t, you cannot. It’s not safe right now, because if you do, it’ll all come apart and it won’t stop. Steve is on overload in his own head, eyes sparkling, tears matted into his lash-line.

He has to breathe through his nose when he says it. It’s wrong, it’s so fucking wrong. But he’s helpless, he can’t take this environment, he wants to run from you, from your words.

“I’ll, uh. I’ll, uhm… I can take you home if you get dressed.”

He’s blinking away blurry vision as he catches your wounded, tear fogged expression the moment that he’s snatching his boxers and jeans off the bed, and making for the bedroom door. He shuts it and leaves you to re-cloth yourself in silence. It’s honestly deafening, you’re not sure how you manage. Revealing your body to his room, to his scent, pictures on his wall, various trinkets, but not him. You’re shaking as you put on piece by piece of fabric, dreading having to see him.

Your hand hovers over the door, giving several pauses before you open it. You step out onto the deep carpet, plush across your feet, mashed against your toes. He’s nowhere in sight. And you remember that he took his clothing, so he’s probably getting re-dressed.

Fuck this. It’s in your brain on broadway lights, body in flight mode. You’re heading down the staircase and snatching your shoes up by the entryway, forgetting your purse in his room. You don’t care anymore, you have to get out of here, this place closing in on you like a funhouse. You shut the door as quietly as you can, then you’re sprinting down the Harrington’s driveway.

Is it dramatic? Yeah. Oh-fucking-well, you’re running on adrenaline so your body doesn’t feel the disgusting agony that’s slowly eating its way through your insides. You get about halfway and you hear footsteps approaching at high rates, your name being chanted. Steve is at your side in seconds, breathless.

“Shit, you scared me. Why the hell did you leave like that?”

Your eyes widen to give him an incredulous look, and that’s when the tears escape, rolling down your cheeks. Steve sees your disheveled state next. No purse, no shoes. Your blouse is halfway hanging off your shoulder. It’s an automatic instinct, his fingers brushing underneath the fabric, dragging across your skin as he pulls up to secure it.

You want to flinch away, but you don’t. Hurt settles in his brows. He’s fucking incredible with that question. “You aren’t wearing your shoes. You can’t leave my house like this.”

Autopilot flies in to protect you, leveling off everything else that you could say or do. There’s no anger, there’s no sorrow, there’s nothing. And that’s what scares him the most when you say, “I just wanna go home.”

He can’t stand it anymore, his natural urge to protect your safety, has him wrapping you in his arms. You still smell like his bed, like him, like love making left unfinished. Your arms remain clutched to your chest. No reaction.

He says it out loud, unknowing if he means it to you or just to himself. “We should’ve never started having sex.”

A mistake. You’re his mistake. Not his biggest. Not even a real regret.

Steve Harrington has only ever loved one girl. He’s only ever regretted one loss. He even cared more for Robin before he even went to you. Are you even pretty enough, or does he just like you because you’re friends and he’s horny, or searching for something? You’re not it, not even a morsel.

And it doesn’t matter what you say, what you do, how you feel. You’ll be stuck with that, while Steve clings to whatever he truly wants. Now you’ve lost what you’ve built with him, destroyed his safe place by becoming a cliche. He doesn’t deserve your one sided feelings.

The wheels are spinning in your head, but Steve still sees nothing in your responses, nor your reception. So he lifts his keys from his pocket to respect your wishes, his chest on fire with an acidic inferno, his head clouded with pain far worse than anything he’s ever experienced, his skull echoing with what his brain has just endured. You walk to his car without sparing a glance, feet still bare. He swallows and it just feels like piles of broken glass. He can do nothing but do what you asked of him.

He drives you to your house in silence. Steve Harrington has been sure of one thing in two years, and that’s always been you. But as he pulls up to your house, you’re climbing from his car before he can put it in park, your voice hauntingly, desperately hollow. “I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

And you leave him, the levee going to break once you’re through your front door, pain in between your legs to remind you the next morning before your mind does. His nose crinkles, his fingers pinching, a thin line of snot trailing out. Steve wants to say to you that it’s him who has ruined it all. That he’s so scared of those words, that he doesn’t understand how someone could love him, so he can’t let your words sink in, can’t consciously reciprocate. A coward who won’t let himself feel your declaration.

Steve Harrington’s brain, however, knows the truth.

~*~

Waking up the next morning had been a reality that neither you, nor Steve were prepared to handle. You pretty much cried yourself to sleep, whilst Steve held onto your purse and paced his floor until his feet verged on rug burn, tears blurring his vision. When he finally did lay down, his alarm went off two hours later. He woke to your scent all over his bed, still covering him, lingering even as he showered, especially in his car on the way to the store. The same car that things have happened in, and the very one that he dumped you off like trash last night, after what you’d gone through to tell him the extent of your feelings. He wasn’t functioning on a full level from the second he pulled into the parking lot.

~*~

You could still feel him, your body sore, brain picking up seconds after you opened your eyes, toes hitting the blush rug underneath your bed. Your sclera was bloodshot, burning, clouding over as you passed by pictures of you with Steve, and quite a few you’d taken of him solo, that you had on the corkboard above your desk. You’d deal with taking everything down later, unsure what you would be doing with the items. Forgoing breakfast was a given, your stomach in knots. Showering went painfully fast, leading you right into putting on your work uniform.

You barely made it three hours into your shift, headache, heartache going head to head, and your boss had noticed your discomfort, gently releasing you for the day. Only one person made everything better, but that was no longer an option. Your confession sets you free, backfiring what type of freedom you wanted to occur. It was eleven o’clock when you dock yourself into Family Video’s parking lot, relieved Steve was on his normal lunch hour. Even if you can spend time with Robin, it will help.

You can hurry, you don’t have to see his face.

Fate has other plans.

You’re helping Robin unpack some candy shipments when his car pulls in about half an hour early. She could tell you weren’t feeling your best, so that’s why she’d assumed you didn’t want a male presence around. You’re honestly shocked she hasn’t clocked Steve as the mystery man she’s known about the past two years.

“Don’t worry,” she says, upon seeing your soured, slightly fearful expression. “It’s just our doofus. He’s been in a brooding mood today, probably why he’s back early.”

A mood? So you have ruined it all.

You nod, forcing yourself to stay put, immediately gaining on deep breathing. At least you don’t shake when you begin to alphabetize the candy. You can hear her greet Steve before he even gets a word in. She snatches some kind of paper bag, that you assume he brought back for her — away, rifling through its contents as she speaks.

“Dingus, you still have that bottle of Tylenol in your car?”

Steve’s heart is in his throat, wrapping him tighter than Vecna’s hive minds did. He gives a silent yes, head trying to lean around a few shelves. Fuck. Of course that was your car out front, he wasn’t just imagining shit. He’s hopeful, anxious. What are you here for? Who?

“Good. Can you go get it, please? She doesn’t feel good and she’s been helping me all morning.”

Immediate worry doesn’t cover it. You’re here and not at work, and you’re sick? Steve snaps out of what trance he’s in, eyes pinching closed and he nods rapidly. “Shit, yeah. I’ll go get it. Here, Robs. Can you take my water to her?” He hands off his half drank bottle without question, moving back outside to get the medicine.

It’s funny, the look on your face as Robin presents you with his drink. You all share off of one another all the time. She places the food bag beside her, to which you politely decline her offer for some. Doesn’t matter if you haven’t eaten, you can’t.

“I know he has cooties, but I think we’re safe.” She shoulder bumps you, trying to get a smile. When you barely lift your mouth, she goes into her version of mom mode. It dawns on her and it comes from her mouth without tact.

“Wait, is this about that mystery guy who took your virginity? The one you’ve been seeing for two years? Holy shit, did he finally commit?”

If Robin couldn’t tell how you felt about Steve, or see anything from his part, then you guess it’s true.

There’s nothing to see.

You can feel your rib cage gape open, heart falling into your ass, strangled by your intestines.

Luckily, Steve has perfect timing, appearing right in earshot as Robin reveals information you never told him. The room feels small, you feel as if you could melt into the floor, non-existent. Would it matter? You are starting to think love controls everything, after all. You’re fucking doomed.

He lets his Nikes carry him forward, bottle of Tylenol in his massive hand. He’s starting to tremble, betrayal etched into his mouth, giving away what Robin now feels stupid for not knowing. It all clicks when your moods are matched, your mixed reactions combining.

“Oh. Oh, holy fuck. I’m…” She looks at her best-friend, who is halfway seething to near sobbing, and at you, who cannot look her in the eyes. “Shit, I should’ve known. Why didn’t I know? Fuck. I’ll give you two a minute —“

“Steve?” Your voice is tinged with something, one that has him slightly elated that you’re vocal, and even more pissed at you. He waits, his tongue caught in his throat, about to ask you, but you’re adding on. “May I have two Tylenols please?” Standing on your feet right after.

He’s like a fucking statue, on autopilot, unmoving this time. Robin rises, plucks the bottle gently, shaking out two and drops them into your hand, handing the container back to Steve, ultimately giving his water to you. She mouths an apology, but you’re smiling a tacky, forced grin that looks as if it’s pinching your lips. She’s bound to be upset you both neglected to tell her. Keeping your mouth shut should’ve been the reverse way.

“I’ll call you tonight, Robs. I’m sorry, okay?”

“Hey.” She stops you before you can step back to leave, wrapping her arms around you, maroon coated lips by your ear. “I don’t have a foot fetish, but I really should’ve kept the entirety of my own in there to avoid this.”

That gets you laughing softly, and you don’t look at Steve as you depart from her arms and for your car. He’s still frozen.

Robin does, though, stares right through him. She can see how much he’s hurting. She doesn’t want to judge either side, so she simply reaches up to rub along between his shoulder blades. “If you need to —“

“I’ll be right back.” His eyes are trained on your retreating form, handing her the pills as he follows you.

“That works too!” She points a finger in his direction, sighing. Is everyone else onto this, or is she just off her game?

~*~

You’ve just barely downed the pills, tasting Steve’s cinnamon breath spray, combined with his morning coffee all around the lid of his water. You chug it fast, your back still turned to the front door. That’s when the dumbass little bell rings, slapping back against the door, and his voice comes into play.

“You can taste my mouth on that, right?”

You remain non-verbal. This angers him to the point he steps close enough that you can smell his cologne and aftershave. His tone shatters, emotion bleeding through. “Because friends share things with one another.”

“Well, friends sure as hell don’t fuck!” It snaps free of your mouth, shocking the both of you, plastic crinkling in your hands. Your head is hurting, between your thighs is aching, and you’re positive that a piece of your chest has been carved out.

He’ll always have that, whether he wants it or not.

“They don’t lie about being a virgin, either! They don’t say that it’s been a while when they’re in pain and I’m fucking asking what’s wrong the first time that we have sex! If I would have known, then it would’ve been—”

“Wouldn’t have happened, so I didn’t build some little attachment to you, right?”

Steve visibly recoils.

“Is that really what you thought of me? That I was still that big of an asshole? Because we were already pretty attached. I did everything with you, you practically lived at my house.”

“If you didn’t have a date. Maybe it was just sex, me and you. Still doesn’t answer if you found me attractive. Probably just biased because you were my friend.” Word vomit. Too late to stop now.

Steve mulls over the meaning of were. Past tense? Does it apply to current?

His hands go onto his hips, a sidestep, and he turns back to look at you in astonishment, having to swipe aggressively at the wetness in his eyes. He doesn’t even know where to begin with everything you just said. His brain is screaming to tell you that no, he’s always found you fucking beautiful. That he would have preferred you over all of those dates, or any that he’s ever had for that matter. But he’s so confused about letting anything in, his tongue becomes tied, only able to get out one lame question. “Why didn’t you ever tell me any of this?”

When your gaze flickers up, you see he’s snarling, but there’s tears clouding his vision. You’re a little lighter in how you speak to him, dismantling your armor. “Because I didn’t want you to think I was a loser, I didn’t want our first time to be about that, I didn’t think you would want to… I didn’t mean to — I’m sorry, Steve.”

He marvels. You really thought that? Did he not express his care for you?

“I would’ve made it better for you. Fuck, were you even okay after it happened?”

His moral compass is extraordinary nowadays, and it does make you hesitant, but you let your fingers cup his cheek. “It was the best. You were the best. I wanted it to happen with you. And it’s something that I would never take back.”

Your teeth start to chatter, your own tears forming. You want to console further, to wipe away his. But you start to let your hand slip. Steve catches it, holding your fingers in his palm, wrapping his digits around to lace. His deep voice drags along each syllable, crooked and wet with emotion. “Please let me hold you before you leave?”

And god, do you want to. You’ve never needed anything more. But if you let him… You just refuse to put yourself into that place right now. You shake your head, replacing your hand with his water bottle. His tongue pokes at his cheek, he shakes his head, attempting to argue. He closes his fist around the plastic.

“I meant what I said last night. And I realize that I ruined everything, Steve.” He can’t speak, why isn’t he able to disagree, why is it like he’s drowning, running in slow motion?

“I just don’t know if it can be repaired.” By the time you slide into your car, hand over your face, arm propped to your steering wheel, body heavy into your seat, Steve finds himself worked up to the point that he can’t bear to be around you, he can’t watch this, his figure pivoting, and he returns straight into the store, booking it to the break room.

~*~

After you’ve cried for what feels like forever, embarrassing yourself, light headed with guilt, you don’t end up driving yourself home, unable to do it in this state. You make your way to a pay phone to call Nancy. How fucking ironic. What’s worse, is that she can’t make it, you find out, as Jonathan Byers pulls up in her station wagon, letting you know that she’s sorry, but she got a call back to her job. You assure him it’s fine, grateful another friend is here, at least, joining him.

He doesn’t press you. But he knows. He’s one of them that pegged it from the start, he and Nance both.

“You okay?” Is his gruff question.

“Yeah, I just have to go home.”

He says nothing else. But what neither of you see, is Steve Harrington, as he’s just getting to the doorway, regretting his decision to not go back once he realized you didn’t leave, unable to stand you being that upset and not trying to do something (if he could) — watching the affection Jonathan Byers extends your way, and your rejection of any reluctance to accept it. His amber eyes are smoldering, his fist clenched, every muscle rigid, heart rate firing off rapid shots.

“Steve…” Robin tries, folding in beside him, seeing his dismissal of logic, his brain switching, latching onto primal panic. “You’re at work, remember? Video tapes, acne covered boss?”

But he’s throwing off his vest in response and striding towards his car, ignoring her pleas.

[vivian-pascal]

But Daddy I Love Him

dbf!joel x f!reader

summary: You've been seeing Joel for a while now, when your dad first introduced you to him, you knew you both could never get enough. But when your dad finds out, things take a turn.

warnings: piv (wrap it up), oral f!receiving, fluff, description of what reader wears, angst

authors note: hey folks! when i first heard this song on Taylor's new album I just KNEW I had to write about it! and this is the idea I had in mind, I hope you all enjoy!

(I definitely recommend listening to the song while reading!)

now I'm running with my dress unbuttoned

screaming "but daddy I love him!"

"I'm having his baby"

no I'm not but you should see your faces.

The warm, tingly feeling of his rough calloused hands sliding along the inside of your thigh making you whimper as his hand slowly makes it way between your legs.

The rough pull of his hair as he collides his drooling mouth with your clit. Licking and sucking like a feral animal devouring its meal.

"Joel." You moan when he inserts his tongue into your seeping cunt. Pushing deeper and deeper until your back arches off the bed.

"Yeah, just like that baby." The deep rumble of his voice vibrates along your pussy and only makes the sensation better. Licking and sucking your cunt until you simply can't hold it any longer and let go. The rush of your orgasm makes him physically eat up your whole pussy. Making sure there are no drops wasted.

Your back finally hitting the bed, he rises from between your legs and he already looks fucked. The dampness from your arousal has drenched his beard and face. His messy hair from all the pulling and tugging you've done only seems to have gotten worse.

He crawls up your body with a big grin and instantly meets your face with his lips. You moan into his mouth as he begins to undo his jeans. You giggle as the zipper gets stuck and decide to help him out.

You pull sharply on the zipper and it instantly goes down. He smiles at you as he removes his pants and his boxers. Your eyes widen at the size of him. You've imagined this moment for years and you've know that he'd be big, but you never knew that he'd be this big.

He crawls back up your body as your back hits the bed once more.

When you first met Joel, you were only a teenager with a wide range of imagination. He was handsome, had the sexiest voice you've ever heard, he was kind, etc. But one thing about him just didn't seem right.

Sometimes you would casually flirt with him because it was funny and only a joke. Well, not for you. He would laugh it off and tell you to stop and then you would. The amount of control he had over you was insane. More than your dad. You would physically do anything for Joel. Sometimes you noticed that some of your flirting did actually bother him.

Once, you two were in a store and the cashier had thought that Joel was your father. He laughed it off and told the lady that you weren't and you both left the store. But you couldn't leave it at that of course, so when you walked out, Joel asked you to wait in the car while he threw something out and you simply replied with "Yes, daddy."

That seemed to do a number for him. He stopped in his tracks as he watched you walk toward his truck. The car ride home was silent. You tried to make small talk with him but he'd only grunt in return.

Ever since that day, he's been off. So earlier today, you decided that should change. And now here you are, ass naked with Joel Miller.

His nose brushes against yours as he slowly pushes in. You both gasp at the intrusion. "You're so gorgeous darlin'." You moan as he slowly begins to move.

You run your nails alone his back as he kissed you along your jawline. His movements hit each spot inside you just right. Stretching you out perfectly.

His grunts only spur you on as he begins to speed up his thrusts. You moan as his tongue collides with yours. His hands moving down your fragile frame as he begins to circle your clit.

Running your hands along his arms, back, neck. You can feel every strong muscle working its hardest. You pull and tug his hair until he's grunting and panting in your mouth.

His fingers push down on your clit harder and you arch your back and moan aloud when your orgasm washes over you. His thrusts begin to go faster as his hips come to a stutter. You grin when you feel his hot seed seeping into you.

He lays his head on your shoulder as you look down at his exhausted state and kiss his forehead. He smiles softly and kisses your lips. You wrap your small arms along his head as he wraps his strong arms around your small body.

You both cuddle up and stay like that for a while. Yearning for each others love as the time passes by slowly.

Your rudely awaken to a slam of your bedroom door. You quickly sit up and cover yourself with your blanket. When you see who it is, your eyes begin to water as your heart stops. It's your dad.

Joel sits up and his eyes squint at the bright light. When he sees your father standing there, he freezes.

"What the fuck?" Your dad roars as he walks in. Joel begins to pick up his boxers as he quickly puts them on.

"Joel?" He looks up at your dad as he tries to grab his jeans. "You fucked my daughter?" He quickly puts on his pants, leaving them unbuttoned. Joel looks at you. His eyes softening when he sees that your crying.

"Fucking answer me!" He looks back at your dad and quickly nods. Your dad throws his hands in the air and grabs onto Joel's arm. Yanking him out of your room.

You quickly get out of bed and grab your dress, putting it on but not buttoning it up. "Dad! Where the fuck are you taking him?" You scream as you run after them. He throws Joel outside and pushes him.

"Joel, care to explain what the fuck you were doing?" Joel only puts his hands in front of him. "You can't even talk to your best bud huh? U wonder why that is, oh maybe because you were messing with my very young daughter." Joel shakes his head as he backs up.

"Now, we both had consent for this. I didn't force her into doin somethin she didn't wanna do." Your dad begins to laugh.

"As if that makes this any better Joel." Tears flood your face.

"Dad stop! He didn't do anything wrong. Please."

Your dad looks furious. He shakes his head and looks back at Joel. He looks at you with sad eyes and only nods to you as a reassurance that it's going to be okay.

"Go." You turn to face your dad as he looks at Joel." "What? Dad no. He can't just leave"

"Well that's what I'm telling him to do isn't it." You look at Joel as he slowly backs away to his truck. "Dad?" You begin to panic. You hear the truck door open and close.

He begins to back away and looks at your dad. His truck backs off the driveway and that's when you start to sprint after him. Holding your dress up as you begin running. Your bare feet hitting the rough pavement. Tears flying from your eyes. Screaming and crying as you see your Joel leaving you. Forever.

Your pace begins to slow as you realize that he's not coming back. Just disappearing into nothing. You stare at his truck as you hear your dads pants coming up behind you. He puts his hand on your back but your too distraught to take it off.

"But Daddy, I loved him."

tags!!

@morallyinept @mermaidgirl30 @rav3n-pascal22 @mountainsandmayhem @amyispxnk @pinkcrystal44 @guelyury @iamsherloocked @itsokbbygrl @heartpascalispunk @littlevenicebitch69 @brittmb115 @kotourasan123 @simplewanderer @tupelomiss @heartramen @sinful-mind-joyful-thoughts

[withahappyrefrain]

BOB FLOYD CODED

YES IT IS. It's also Bob with a confident woman coded, which I absolutely love.

It was cute how he tried to blend in with the background. His seat may have been in the corner, but his tall broad frame made him stand out. Unlike his friends, he was quiet, occasionally joining in on the conversation, though quite content to just listen and watch.

He was adorable and God, did you want him.

So when his friends got up to go play pool and sing by the piano, you swooped in. His bright blue eyes widened as he took you in, like a deer in headlights.

"H-hello," his voice was deep with a slight rasp to it. You couldn't tell the location of his accent, but it was definitely rural.

Had the Navy not worked out, he could make a killing recording audiobooks.

"Hi handsome," you smiled as you gently pushed a dark blonde curl away from his forehead, "How ya doing?"

"I'm uh, good!" He cleared his throat, trying to maintain some composure, "Just to let you know, the blonde is engaged and like head over heels in love with her. Basically she worships her. The guy playing piano is free, but he's not ready for a relationship, or a one night stand. The girl next to him is open if you're open. If not, you can go for Javy, he's the one who is-"

"Why are you telling me all of this?" You asked, moving so that you were standing in between his legs. The newly close proximity allowed you to take in the scent of his cologne.

"I, uh," he tried scooting backwards, only to hit the wall, "Isn't that why you're here?"

He thought you were here to get information on his friends, not him.

How cute.

You simply shook your head, leaning forward, "I'm here for you handsome. What's your name?"

"B-Bob," his eyes widened again, "Wait, you're here for, for me?"

The idea of being the one a beautiful stranger would go after was foreign to Bob. Usually it was anyone else in his friend group. He was used to being the one that folks would go to in order to get information about someone else. This was a change.

Not that he minded.

In fact, Bob liked it. A lot.

Once the initial shock had worn off, he found himself easily able to strike up a conversation with you. He was so expressive, using his large hands and big eyes to help tell his stories. You found Bob quite knowledgeable, but never cocky. He was born in Montana and raised there until he was ten, when his family moved to California as his dad was part of the Navy, which explained his accent.

Inexperience wasn't his problem. It was just when he was out with his friends, who were stereotypically attracted, Bob tend to got lost in the mix of things.

A true shame, even though it was greatly benefiting you.

"I love your voice," You murmured against his ear, breath hot on his skin.

"You-really?" Bob squeaked, trying not to focus on how soft your skin felt against his, or the sweet scent of your perfume.

You giggled, the noise sweeter than any song Bob had ever heard, "Yeah. Love how deep it is. Could listen to it all day."

"I uh, that's uh, really nice of ya to say," His voice was shaky as your attention to him made Bob remember what was happening. A beautiful stranger went up to talk, wanted to talk to him, wanted to hear him.

On the other hand, you just simply smiled. He was so cute, having no idea what kind of effect he had on you.

Perhaps it was time to let him know.

Your lips trailed down to his neck, the scent of his aftershave absolutely addicting.

The grip he had on your hips increased, fingernails digging into the soft fabric of your shirt.

"Yeah? Could say the same about you darlin." His voice was lower, purposely so, as he cooed in your ear, "Your voice is so pretty, I've been wondering what other noises you can make with it."

So he could play the game after all.

You could too.

Gently, you lifted one left, raising it up and towards his lap. To distract him, you began peppering his jawline with kisses as you continued to direct your lifted knee closer and closer to his crotch.

While Bob's sharp gasp audibly let you know you reached your desired destination, you didn't need the sound to know.

You could feel him.

It's always the quiet ones.

Bob's fingers dug into the soft fabric of your skirt, willing himself to not moan on the stop, trying to remind him how awkward it would be to explain to his parents why he was honorably discharged from the Navy.

So instead, he pulled your hips towards him, practically closing the space between your bodies.

Gone was that sweet, yet unsure smile. In it's place was a confident smirk, that made your thighs clench.

When he stood up from his seat, it was then you realized how tall he truly was. Not that you minded.

"Why don't we go somewhere a little more private," His voice was seductively low against your skin, "I'm not into sharing."

[billthedrake]

SUGAR DADDY (PART ONE)

I was cooling down from my run, and I was paying more attention to the traffic light to cross. I almost didn't see them.

But the man saw me, a look of embarrassment sweeping his face before the familiar friendly tone won out.

"Luke?" he said.

"Mr. Keenan," I replied automatically, as if the recognition was coming out of my mouth before it hit my brain. Mr. Keenan was my buddy Rich's dad, a successful corporate lawyer or something. I know Rich had issues with his father, made even worse by his parent's divorce, but Mr. K was always beyond nice to me. And truth be told, I always found him incredibly attractive. Tall, handsome, salt and pepper coming in on the temples, kind of like a TV dad. Even now he was in a nice-cut navy suit, dress shirt and no tie.

His blue eyes were taking me in. It had been over three years since I'd last seen the man, since high school graduation, and I'm sure I looked different now. "I almost forgot you went to school here," he said. "Georgetown?" he prompted.

"Yes, sir. They haven't kicked me out yet," I smiled in my self-deprecating way.

It was then that I noticed the woman standing next to him. She couldn't have been any older than me. She was pretty, real pretty, with that sorority girl look. Straight blond hair and big tits for a girl with her trim frame. At least they showed off well in that spaghetti strap cocktail dress she had on. Her high heels didn't get her close to Mr. K's 6'3" height but they added a couple of inches.

I now had a pretty good idea why Rich's parents got divorced.

The man's date was good at hiding her annoyance at my presence but not good enough that I couldn't see that she wanted to get on to where they were going. Part of me couldn't blame her. It was fall, the evening was cool, and she was underdressed for it.

Mike Keenan realized where I was looking and that embarrassed look came back on his face. "Luke, this is Kimberly..." he turned to his girlfriend or date or whatever. "Luke's from back home," he explained. Almost with an emphasis of meaning.

Turning back to me. "We should go, buddy... but it's great running into you, Luke."

"You, too, Mr. Keenan," I said. It was only then that I was self conscious about standing on a busy Georgetown sidewalk in my sweat-drenched running clothes, the cool getting to me now that the exercise was wearing off.

He flashed his trademark smile, like he always did when I came over. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, deftly extracting a business card. "I'm in DC a few nights a week these days. Reach out and we'll catch up, OK?"

"Sure thing, Mr. K," I said, taking the card in my fingers.

Then I watched as my friend's dad and his college-aged girlfriend went walking on to their date spot.

****

"I was gonna ask if you can keep things under wraps about Kimberly," Mr. Keenan said as we waited for our burger at a nice but not overly fancy bistro that DC seemed to have a ton of. I'd met Mr. K closer to his hotel, just two nights after running into him.

"Oh yeah, sure," I said. If the man had asked me to give an alibi to the police for something I probably would have. I mean, Mike Keenan always was great to me, encouraging me in my baseball playing and even helping me out with college admissions stuff, since my folks were more blue collar. His dating life was really none of my business, but I felt like it was conversation worthy. "How long have you two been dating?"

He squirmed in his seat and sighed. "A while... not too long..." he said then gave me a long hard look. "Listen, Luke, you can keep this between us, right?"

The blue eyes and handsome jawline and perfect teeth were gonna make me crush out a little on the man, like I did back in high school. "Absolutely," I replied. Earnest as hell.

He smiled. He could read my sincerity, and I think it amused him. He leaned back and had a soft leer on his face, a side of him I'd never seen. "She's not my girlfriend," he explained. "I met her on one of those sugar daddy sites."

I may have been a dumb jock, but I figured out what he meant pretty quick. "You mean she's a hooker?" I asked. I had to laugh, and Mr. K laughed back.

"No, well, not exactly," he replied. "But there's a little of that, even if we both pretend that's not what's going on." His eyes searched out mine, and I knew he was trying to read if I was freaked out or judgmental. I wasn't, just surprised.

I tried to pass off my shock with a joke. "She expensive?" I said.

He grinned, with a I-can't-believe-you-asked-that look. But he replied anyway. "Very. But I can afford it."

Something about his tone and lecherous nature got me hard. Not chubbed, but full on erect in my jeans.

The man mistook my horniness for a different reaction. "Sorry Luke," he said. "I shouldn't have said that... only you asked."

"No, it's good," I assured him. "Just didn't expect it, is all."

"Fair," he said. He sighed again. "Seriously, Luke, not a fucking word to Rich. Or anyone. I mean it."

"I won't, Mr. K, promise," I assured him. He probably didn't want to talk about it anymore, but I was very curious. "So... how's it work exactly?"

"How's what work?"

"The sugar daddy thing."

He seemed more businesslike. Maybe he enjoyed being able to confide, or maybe he just was humoring me. "I pay for Kimberly's apartment and of course for dates," he explained. "There are gifts, too, but she doesn't make me jump through hoops like some of the others."

I was letting it sink in that this one wasn't Mr. K's first. I knew the guy was loaded, but that kind of money was wild to me.

"Damn, I should get a sugar daddy," I joked.

Without missing a beat, Mr. Keenan shrugged his shoulders and said, "You could. If that's what you wanted."

I blushed. I was still pretty closeted though Rich Keenan knew. Maybe Mike Keenan knew too.

The man seemed to enjoy catching me off guard. "A colleague of mine goes for high-class call boys, but I've been trying to convince him to go for something more legit." This was definitely a new side to Mike Keenan than I'd seen.

He paused. "Sorry, Luke. I'm not really suggesting... You know that, right?" The old Mr. K was back.

"Yeah, Mr. Keenan," I said. I wasn't totally naive, but this evening had already made me feel more green than I wanted.

He held up his empty rocks glass in a gesture for the bartender to bring another. He then turned to me. "You have any special men in your life?"

So Mr. K did know.

I shook my head. "I've hit the apps some," I said with candor. "But no one special."

He patted me on my shoulder, like he used to back when I'd come over to visit Rich. Like a buddy or a dad. "Well, you've grown into a fine young man, Luke Bowman. I'm sure that someone special will come soon... maybe when you're not expecting it."

OK, I was more than a little crushed out.

***

Something about seeing Mr. Keenan was a spark in my life that I needed. I'd spent too much of my college years scared. Scared of getting out there, of meeting men. I liked men who were older. Coach types, though that was out of bounds and not realistic. But I changed the age range on my app profile and decided I was going to be open to engaging with men who turned me on there.

It was hit or miss. I heard from some real obnoxious guys. I went on some dates with a really fucking hot doctor who was great sex but then basically ghosted me. I had a couple of hookups that were good for what they were.

I wasn't being a man-whore exactly, but I enjoyed making up for lost time a little.

Strangely Mr. K became my confidante. I don't know why I thought the man would be homophobic, hell maybe deep down he was, but we each shared a secret with the other. And once he was back in DC for business that spring, I met him every other Wednesday for burgers and beer, depending on my game schedule. I got the increasing feeling that he valued his time with me, since he and Rich didn't get along well these days. The man carried a lot of guilt for his broken marriage, but he'd be the first to admit that he'd probably do the same thing all over again.

"Buddy, college girls are the best," he leered one Spring night as we finished our meal. Mr. K let his hair down a LOT with me these days. "I know they don't do anything for ya, Luke, but Jesus, fuck..."

I laughed. I knew Mike Keenan was a grade-A horndog and probably not a good man in that way, but I enjoyed seeing his naughty side.

"You ever think about dating one for real, Mr. K?" I asked. For most of our meetings, it had been mostly my buddy's dad asking me about my life, but it was just now getting to the point where I felt like I could ask personal questions like this.

He shook his head. "It wouldn't work. Besides, I wouldn't do that to Rich." It was a strangely profound admission.

I gulped. Yeah, I could see it from my buddy's perspective, having a stepmother his age, or younger even.

"That's cool, Mr. Keenan. But you gotta live your life, too," I said.

That caught the man off guard. He looked at me then smiled. He reached over and ruffled my hair. "You really think that, dont ya?" he asked.

I nodded, embarrassed.

He grinned. "Don't worry, kiddo. I'm enjoying my middle age years. A little too much."

"With Kimberly?" I prompted. He hadn't mentioned her in a while.

"I called off that arrangement," he said bluntly. "She wanted more."

"A ring?" I laughed. I didn't get straight people, not really, but at the same time they were my entire world.

That leer returned to the man. "No. More money. I'm taking a break for now."

"How long will that last?" I teased.

"Dunno. A month. Maybe two. Till I get horny again."

"I'm pretty sure you wouldn't have to wait that long to get laid, Mr. K."

It was meant as a playful comment, at least in my head. But the second it came out I realized I'd said too much. That Mr. Keenan could read everything in my face, everything I'd kept hidden. How attracted I was to him, how crushed out I was on him, how jealous I was of Kimberly or whatever sorority chick he was banging.

The look on the man's face could now see it all.

Tears welled up in my eyes and I started getting a panic attack. I stood up from the bar stool. "I should go," I said.

A hand reached out and gripped my forearm. Mr. K's grip was surprisingly strong. "Luke. It's OK."

Somehow, his understanding made it worse. I shook my head and broke free. "Sorry," I muttered. Then made a beeline for the door.

I felt dumb and intensely vulnerable as I walked to the bus stop. I'd messed up this friendship thing I had with Mike Keenan, but maybe it was fucked up that I was hanging out with my friend's dad like this in the first place. No maybe about it: it was majorly fucked up.

I was a block away from the stop when I got a text.

"Can I convince you to come back, Luke?" the man wrote. "I get it buddy."

I knew the smart thing would be to keep walking. To send a polite no thanks reply. Or just ignore the text. Instead I typed. "Yes Mr. K." And I walked back to the restaurant.

Mike Keenan was standing outside, looking handsome as fuck in his expensive suit. He had a worried look on his face, and I knew immediately he'd dashed out after me but didn't know which way I went.

His face brightened when he saw me. "We don't have to stay here," he said. "I settled up."

"Oh," I said. "Sorry..." I started to apologize, but he stopped me.

"You were honest," he said directly, blunt but still friendly. "Besides, what man doesn't like to hear he's attractive?"

I gave a wan smile and hunched my shoulders in a shrug. "A lot of straight men, I imagine."

I couldn't tell if Mike Keenan was just humoring me. He had a look of sympathy on his face for sure as he reached out and patted my arm. "How bout this? No labels between us, Luke?"

I didn't get what he was saying exactly, but I knew it was meant to reassure me. I nodded.

"Feel like coming to my hotel?" he asked. "We can just talk."

"Yeah." I was feeling a ton of emotions coursing through me. But I wanted more Mr. K time. "Sounds nice."

That seemed to relax him and put him in a good mood as we walked the few blocks to the nice, business-class residence hotel where he was staying. I couldn't help but sneak looks over his way. He just looked incredible in his suit, not a trim cut one like younger guys sometimes wore but it still flattered his build and height. In my mind, the suit made him look like one of those DC power players and in some messed up way that turned me on.

We weren't too chatty as he led me up to his room. It was fancy to my eyes but had that empty aura that hotel rooms do, even if Mr. K's luggage and belongings were around.

I was looking around the place when the man stepped up right behind me and wrapped his arms around my midsection. I smelled his cologne and felt his kisses along my neck. I guess we were going to do more than just talk.

"Oh, God, Mr. K," I hissed. This probably a record time for how fast I could throw hard. That boner was nearly instant.

"You can call me Mike," he said.

"OK," I said dumbly.

His hands traveled up and down my T-shirt. I was primed to be turned on by this man, but he was going to put me in heat.

"You OK with this, buddy?"

"You have no idea, Mist.. Mike" I replied.

My slip up got a chuckle from him. His fingers slipped beneath the hem of my shirt and the touch of his hand against my belly felt electric. "You have an amazing body, Luke."

"You too, sir," I replied.

He kissed some more along my neck and his voice got deeper, hoarser. "Do you suck cock, Luke Bowman?"

The grunt from the man was an indication I'd said the right thing. "I don't know that I'm good for all the other stuff," he said, "but I'd REALLY love to feel your mouth on me, buddy."

I knew what he meant. The man wasn't going to reciprocate, and I'd have to be fine with that. I was. "I don't need anything in return, Mike," I said. "I want to suck you."

He had that huge horndog grin on his face when I finally turned to face him. We were matched in height but he felt like my opposite in so many ways. Older, successful in his career, straight, though I was getting the fuller meaning of his "no labels" comment.

Especially as his face inched in and his lips met mine. I was kissing Rich Keenan's dad and the forbidden nature of that just added to my thrill. I took a second to feel up his sides, under the suit coat. Mr. K didn't object, he just went deeper with the kiss. Mike Keenan was a great kisser.

"You're a very handsome young man," Mr. K finally said as he pulled back.

"God, Mike," I grunted. This was every JO fantasy I'd had coming to life.

With that naughty look on his face, he reached down and started unzipping. I didn't even look down, not yet, but I could tell from his shoulder motion that he was hauling out his cock.

"Please, buddy," he hissed.

"Here?" I asked dumbly. In my hookups before BJs had been naked and on a bed.

"Here," he growled. This was that other side of Mr. K, the kind who hired sugar babies to get his needs taken care of.

I squatted down. I was a catcher for the Hoyas baseball team, so at least I had this motion down, I thought to myself.

Mike Keenan's cock was gorgeous. Big and meaty and cut but not overly long. It jerked and pulsed as he looked down on me.

"You done this before, right?" he asked. That concerned paternal voice coming out.

I nodded. "Some," I replied. "I wish I had more practice." Then with an honesty I probably shouldn't have had, I added, "I want this to be good for you, Mike."

He chucked and moved his hand to run through my hair. It was strangely affectionate. "You'll do great, buddy."

That was all the encouragement I needed. Leaning in, I could smell the mild, natural musk of a man's crotch, which was matched by Mr. K's saltiness as I began licking him. I gripped the base of his prick to steady it for my sucking, but I maybe didn't even need to do that. Mike was rock hard.

"Yes..." he hissed as I went down on him. I was still pretty green at sucking cock, but I was probably better than Kimberly or whatever sugar baby he'd lined up in the past. Or even the former Mrs. Keenan, I thought crudely.

That knowledge had me going for it. I swallowed four inches of the man in one go, held just a second to let my throat get used to it. Then I started going up and down. It took a second for me to get my rhythm and another for me to get the suction. But I knew I did by the urgency of the man's fingers in my hair, not exactly pushing me down on his crotch but aiding and guiding me in my bobbing motion. He was probably thinking of some chick while I blew him, but I was OK with that.

Only his next words broke me of that idea. "Luke, buddy... you're getting me there," he hissed. Mr. K was very present in this blowjob. I paused a second and looked up at him, and could see he was looking down at me.

I wanted to get him off. So I looked back forward and went for it. The best I could deliver. I hoped it was enough.

The fingers grew tighter. "Gonna cum... Don't pull off," Mike growled. "Please."

At that moment I felt bad for straight men. Even if I should have felt bad that Mr. K wasn't gonna suck me. I just felt any woman was stupid not to want to swallow Mike Keenan's cum.

"UNNFH!" came the sound of his release as he flooded my mouth and throat with his salty-sweet cum. Maybe Mike was backed up, but he was a heavy shooter all right. I accepted it all, swallowing it in waves as quickly as he fed it to me. I think my sucking sensation only added to his orgasm. He finally pulled out, prick wet and still hard.

"God fucking damn, buddy, that was great," he said with a satisfied smile. Then as he caught his breath and I stood up, he added, "Can I jerk you off or anything?"

That sounded great. "You got any lube?"

He nodded and walked over to the bathroom to root around his toiletries bag. He stepped back in, his prick softer but still sticking out. With a grin, he tossed me travel container of lube. "Don't be shy," he said.

I was already undoing my shorts, which fell to the floor. Then I peeled down my underwear, letting Mike see my hardon. It was a trip for me, being mostly naked in front of him. Maybe he wasn't gonna be fully gay for me, but he was open to seeing my dick as I squirted the liquid on my stalk and start stroking.

With a grin he stepped up to me, a little to the side, placing his hand on my belly and working up beneath my shirt as he met me for a kiss.

That's all it took. I didn't come instantly but instantly I began that climb to orgasm. Mr. Keenan's kiss and touch was the extra stimulation to get me there.

I moaned into his mouth as I shot my cum, shooting out onto the hotel carpet.

He broke the kiss when I was done and patted my chest. "You needed that, buddy," he said with satisfaction.

"I did," I nodded. "Thanks."

Things felt a little awkward now. I'd crossed some major lines with this guy that evening, and now that I'd gotten off I felt majorly self conscious about it.

"You OK, Luke?" he asked as we tucked back in.

"I'm OK, Mr. Keenan."

"You can NEVER tell Rich about what just happened," he said.

"You know I'm gonna keep everything private," I said. "You can trust me."

He nodded. "Why don't you get cleaned up. Feel like a drink? I have some scotch here or you can raid the mini bar."

I nodded. "I don't know anything about scotch, but you can teach me."

He chuckled. "All right."

It felt nice to just talk. Mr. K let me open up, about men and being gay and what I really wanted from dating and sex. The man talked about his very limited experience with guys when he was a teen.

"I should have figured men would be better at giving head," he said with a playful leer. "That was incredible, Luke. For real."

"I'm glad," I said. Maybe this wasn't a healthy hookup, but it had felt incredibly satisfying for me, a dream come true.

"You're going to make some dude VERY happy," he said with a smile.

"I hope so," I said with a defensive chuckle. "I hope he makes me happy too."

Mr. Keenan got what I meant. "Yeah, you deserve that," he said a little chastised. He polished off the last of his liquor in the rocks glass. "Listen, it's been a long day."

"Yeah, I'll head off," I said, drinking the rest of my scotch and standing up.

Mr. K pulled his walled out and fished out a couple of twenties. "Here you go... you're not taking the bus back. Especially at this hour."

I tried not to take it. "It's Ok, Mike," I said.

He shook his head. "Just get a fucking Uber, Luke. I insist."

"OK," I said, capitulating. The man could be bossy, and I didn't know whether I liked that or not.

He was quieter now, as he led me to the door but he said before I stepped out. "I'm gonna sleep like a baby tonight, buddy. Thanks."

"You too, sir."

[teopatra]

Holaaaa

~ choose a meme for a channeled message // this is not a tarot reading .. happy Virgo season and happy Mercury RX 🥵 feel free to choose multiple groups-

Why do ppl love/hate u ??

Group 1 : si or yes

People do not know how to read you. The decision most people would immediately jump on you take the time to consider and really weigh your options. People hate that about you bc they think you’re too good but it’s lowkey a subtle flex bc it shows you have options. People feel like you get too many chances or things come to easy for you and almost like it’s not fair like you always win. If it’s a situation where you always win people feel like you don’t even try. For example at school it can be a random drawing and your name can get called in an assembly or in the morning announcements and people know you didn’t even try and they put so much energy into hoping they’d get it. 😂

Folks pay a lot attention to you bc you always seem so oblivious yet you’re so rational. You say the most intelligent things and overall you make people feel stupid because a lot of times people assume you’re slow or have dumb blonde energy when half the time you’re not even paying attention. But the other half of the time when you seem like you’re not paying attention you actually are you’re just very strategic. Life is like a game of chess for you and this can make others feel like you’re sneaky or have the intention to one up them by using information when it’s convenient for you. You give non chalant energy but not in a rude way in a calm at peace type of way. People leave you out because you make them realize they’re lowkey thirsty or pick Me’s since you don’t jump at every opportunity like they would, but you teach others about the vastness of life by being patient. Others see you as abundant and before you come into peoples lives even if you’re not close to them they see things as very black and white, this or that, left or right, but you being a multi faceted perspective energy to things. I’m getting mutable energy especially gemini, or heavy Jupiter energy or aspects to your Jupiter or 9th house.

People do love that you kind of don’t care about things BUT YOU DO😂 people really don’t understand you, but the crazy thing is with you it’s what you see is what you get but people swear that you’re hiding something or people may ask you what’s wrong a lot and you’re like nothing????? You don’t have the typical type of resting face it’s more of a stare into the distance because you’re trying to remember if you unplugged your flat iron or turned off the TV before you left the house. If you’re in school you may forget about assignments or homework and end up having to do them on the bus, in the bathroom or in other classes and people hate that they’re tying to fill you in on things but you seem so preoccupied like you don’t care but girl you’re just trying to passss.

EVERYONE wants your energy meanwhile they’re all gossiping about you lowkey bc you’re so interesting and they don’t have anything better to talk about in the sense. But not bc there isn’t anything to talk about it’s just you’re so mysterious. You’re a popular loner like people will try to leave you out just to tell you about it later and you’re like 😃 ohmygosh that’s so wonderful and they’re like BIH you should be jealous like… people really wanna make you the villain. The type of look you have is very girl or guy next door but effortlessly sexy. You actually do alot of self care and you’re intentional with getting dressed but you’re subtle. It’s just a I washed my face and brushed my hair type of thing. You could have a chiseled jawline or symmetrical face. I’m seeing Reggie’s fine self from riverdale. It reminds me of the main character from clueless also how she’s very girl next door almost typical looking but still very standardly pretty. Don’t get me wrong you’re gorgeous and you eat everybody up on your normal day to day. I feel like you actually plan to really make yourself look nice n the mornings before you go to work too but half the time you’re almost running late bc that sleep just be too good.. you focus mostly on your dental health and I see you putting drops n your hair like hair vitamins or oil so your hair must be long and light brown. OHHH you’re giving me Ariana vibes , “no tears left to cry” like people love that you’re unproblematic but that’s the problem lol who do you think you are to be so unbothered? Meanwhile you’re oblivious 😂

Signs: STRONG Scorpio, cancer, gemini, Pisces too actually all water

Side note: People love your hair and be wanting to play with it, when you flip your hair it’s smells like Garnier fructise or something like that like not the new style shampoos that smells perfumy the old type shampoos that smell fruity but still that tumblr era shampoo smell . Your hair puts people n a trance everyone stares at the back of your head when you’re not looking so keep protection crystals around or evil eye

Group 2 : eeyuh?

People love how talkative you are; you’re funny as hell like why you be saying crazy stuff. Even teachers love you or superiors look up to you even if you’re younger. Your supervisors or older colleagues could have crushes on you because you make them feel young like you. People love your light hearted youthfulness it makes them feel comfortable being themselves. This causes people to get clingy and obsess over you. People may send you random messages through the day like when they’re at the store shopping like Ohemgee this reminds me of you haha and it’s like a notebook or some random stuff they have at 5 below and you’re thinking uhmmmm ohhhkay should I be offended orrrrr…? Lol people make themselves uncomfortable with how much they love you because everyone kinda volunteered you as tribute to be THEE it girl or HIM, and you’re like Ohemgee I’m the main character but you just keep that to yourself. People feel like bc they praise you or put you on a high pedistal that you owe THEM something 😂 it gives you wouldn’t be here without me energy almost like you’re a local celebrity and if it wasn’t for your fans that you would be a nobody. You mind your own business and sometimes you can’t get time to yourself bc someone is ALLLLLWAYS calling your name and you’ve gotten caught a few times trying to avoid people n the halls, office, target or whatever and those people feel slapped by will smith n the moment bc how dare you. Next thing you know you’re shadow banned irl by everyone. You have this very magnetic control on folks to where everyone’s energy is the EXACT SAME towards you it’s almost scary sometimes cuz you’ll think dang did someone pass away? Cuz the energy is HEAVY; you’re left confused as if you didn’t get them memo then BOOM almost as if paparazzi announced the new issue of YOU is dropping and everyone needs the scoop and now you’re bombarded at once. Angry mob vibes almost. Heavy air sign energy I’m sensing Kanye, Doja, trump even tho you prob can’t stand either of those 3 ppl the example is to show how they can have such a strange cult like following and be hated but followed at the same time.

Back to the funny thing where you end up being like the class clown bc once people get your joke which it’s not like you’re trying to be funny but you’re very theatrical in how you talk and communicate and it cracks people up and those laughs just fuel you. People hate that you’re so funny they don’t want you to stop but then they realize so much time has gone by that they’ve spent laughing at you they’re now mad bc THEY got distracted 😂 people hate how you disappear or you like to eat alone people be literally wanting to watch you eat. People hate how obsessed they get over you because they start to feel like the feeling isn’t mutual but even as outgoing as you as you tend to be a bit reserved at times especially when you’re trying to focus. You have very good time management skills and you type fast lmao. People hate how fast you finish your work and how fast you run 😂 you’re a runner you’re a track star 😂 you be runnin from people huh lol people will literally chase you like this old school Disney channel movies where the fans chase the pop star.

People love love love you but they hate how lost in time you make them feel and everyone wants to be your best friend and people may try to make it seem like you’re mixy or you’re just social for attention.You actually made yourself be social to help with your shyness or anxiety; only your close family would realize this and you almost live a double life like Kim possible or Hannah Montana where your family would be so surprised to see how much of a starrrrrr you areeee. You may like to read books or do skits; I’m hearing theatre kid or you like to sing old pop or rock n roll. I heard “that’s just the way we roll” by the Jonas brothers 🥺 I love them they’re actually having a concert n my city this week 🫶🏽😭I’m getting more Pisces and gemini vibes like group 1, also Leo and Sagittarius

Group 3 : doj

People hatteeeee how fine you are 😂 you will catch people staring at you and you don’t know why? You also can be super tall or super strong and if you’re a workout girly people like staring at your muscles or buttocks lol . People hate to see you in the gym or gym class bc you can do so many reps OR it’s the fact that you’re not the typical type to look as strong as you actually are and there’s a saying/ word for this but I can’t remember what it is. You could be very slim or maybe more thicker or big boned and if you’re on the heavier side you’re super beautiful and people have never seen someone plus size be that beautiful. Sorry if that’s triggering but people are superficial. People hate that you look better than them even tho you’re big 😂 BIG SEXYYYYY . For my plus size girlies and gents you have a lot of confidence and everyone loves you and people hate that bc you make them feel small no pun intended but n the sense that they try to put you down maybe by making a fat joke or a skinny joke and it just makes them look lame bc you’re actually the total package you’re smart, creative, strong mentally emotionally and physically and all they can do is comment on your weight 😂 people actually wish you were their friend bc you sound so smart when you speak it makes people feel slow bc you’re very wise.

People love how you dress and they love your shoes and the bags you carry. If you get pedicures pay attention to when you get a fresh set bc I’m hearing it be looking good and people lowkey wanna copy they wait for you to get a new color. Or you have gorgeous looking feet it makes people stare it them in a weird way lmao and you may catch people staring at parts of your body even if it’s your face and they feel awkward and may try to make a 😒🥴 face because you looked at them back bc of how hard they was staring like 🙄. Your family or friends may be very well known and you’re very quiet which for some reason attract a lot of rude people to you like someone may try to cut you off in line and you call them out now they’re embarrassed. You could have to deal with confrontation a lot or have disciplinary hearings like someone was always telling on you trying to get you into trouble 😂you’re literally so quiet half the time but you also speak multiple languages so you could be part foreign and people assume you’re dumb bc you’re foreign smh.. you could be into spirituality or some associates from school or your neighborhood could have seen you in your traditional dress maybe you’re of Asian/Indian descent or you’re Muslim … if you’re into spirituality people actually watch your YT, tiktoks or listen to your tarot readings and may blame you for being right like😂 I was just trying to warn you. People really do not like you sometimes and you honestly don’t even do anything aww 🥺 PLEASEEEE don’t let this make you feel bad bc tbh your lil feelings would be hurt n the moment but after about 5 to 10 minutes you don’t even care 😂

Like you’ll go home and forget that even happened and if you are sensitive and it hurts your feelings people are threatened by you and sometimes that’s just life and both life and people can be sucky but you’re not here n this lifetime for people your here to share your research findings and your creativity/art. Especially if you’re a tarot reader, a yogi, a herbalist, spiritualist or any type of healer , you heal those who have negative energy around or towards you bc they cannot transmute the energy in their own. It’s not your job to transmute energy for others tho bc if you do that people will only become codependent off of you then turn on you. You have to build up strength and boundaries and if you have been doing so or done that already then good. People will try you sometimes and just don’t even let it get to you bc they are projecting onto you but people love your advice they just hate that it’s you giving it 😂 you really bother insecure folks

Big libra, Capricorn vibes .. also Taurus or Saturn dominants /aspected Saturn

[mossyivy]

Life | '24 Alphabet Challenge

Leon S. Kennedy x Fem!Reader

Summary: The morning before Leon gets shipped off to Spain.

Words: 1.6k

Content Warning: 18+ content, dry humping, pet name (sweetheart), language

Authors Note: Hi folks, if anyone recognizes this from somewhere, I'm the original creator of this bot of SpicyChat and I thought (since y'all liked my last thirist post) you'd appreciate this oldie sitting in a folder on my phone.

He shifts to get comfortable again, lying on his side. He doesn't dare to take his eyes off the sleeping angel next to him. You curl into him so perfectly at any angle, it amazes him every time.

Reaching over, Leon strokes your cheek with his calloused hand, cradling your jaw. Careful not to wake you up at such an ungodly hour as it's almost 5am. Even though he knew he'd need to be up soon to start his normal morning routine. And to start prepping for his flight at 11am.

Glancing around the bedroom you two shared, he yawns softly, admiring your features in the soft glow of the soon-to-be morning sun. Moving in closer, he gives you a loving kiss on the forehead.

Just like everytime he woke up before you.

Looking down, he smiles, seeing you're still out like a light, completely unbothered by his touch in the slightest.

Leon chuckles, kissing your face a few times, admiring how beautiful you look, even when you're drooling on his trapped arm under you.

He was going to miss the hell out of you while he was gone, finding the President's daughter in Spain. Knowing full well, he wasn't allowed to come back until he found her, regardless of how long it took.

The loud buzzing of the alarm clock behind him breaks the silence of the room.

Shit, shit! Don't wake up!

He whips around, scrambling to reach behind him, his fingertips just missing the button. Tugging slightly on his arm under you, he hits the button. He felt a shifting on his arm as he lay on his back with a sigh.

You're awake.

Looking at your sleepy face, he sees you rubbing your eyes, yawning softly.

"What... Time is it?" You stammer out, wiping sleep from your eyes. He chuckles, always loving how sweet you looked when first waking up.

"It's 5am, sweetheart. Just go back to sleep." He leans over, kissing your forehead again. Groaning in response, you feel him move to get out of bed.

"Noooo..." Whining you cling to his arm, he freezes in his moving. "Stay, just a little bit more? I don't have you for much longer..."

He looks down, opening his mouth to try to protest about his routine. Then he sees the sleepy puppy eyes you're giving him and his heart melts. Getting back into his original position in bed, you giggle at your victory as you climb over, straddling him and pressing your bodies together.

"Happy now?" He grumbles in fake annoyance, wrapping his arms around your waist loosely as you get comfortable.

"I'm always happy in your arms." You smile, kissing the beauty mark under his left eye.

You always did love Leon's adorable marks. Leon's a beautiful man all together, but it's the little details about him you adore so much. The marks on his face, his jaw, neck...

You kiss along his left jawline, stopping a second to admire every part of his beautiful profile.

"What're you doing?" He questions with a quirked brow. Turning his head to look at you, you grab his chin, making him keep his head forward.

"I can't admire my beautiful boyfriend?" Squeezing slightly on his chin, he huffs, faking irritation as if he isn't used to your romantic doting by now.

"You love torturing me, don't you?" He asks, jokingly, as his grip gets tighter on you. Kissing along the lighter moles under his barely grown stubble, you make sure to ghost your lips a bit longer than necessary on each one. He feels your lips creeping along his jaw, letting out a soft moan, tightening his grip around your waist.

"I've always admired your beauty marks. Just as cute as the day we met. All your cute little features just drive me wild, y'know?"

"At this rate, I'm not gonna be able to get out of bed." You chuckle, kissing along his neck. He bites his lip, tilting his head and exposing his skin to you.

Kissing that one particular spot on his pulse that makes his toes curl, his eyes shut tight, and his knuckles turn white, you feel the slightest bit of a twitch under you.

"Fuck." Leon cursed under his breath.

"You like that?" You ask, teasing him as if you don't know exactly what you can do to this man. "It's always so sexy how responsive you are to me. Even the slightest touch can get you all riled up. It's adorable."

"You're such a little shit." He grumbles, making you smile and pull back to peck him on the lips. Moving your lips over to kiss the mark on the right side of his lip. Taking a few quick pecks, his eyes cracked back open, a smirk on his lips.

"You like that spot, huh?" His hand glides up your body, moving to the back of your neck. Gathering your hair in his hand, he pulls it out of the way, sitting up and pressing soft open mouth kisses along your neck.

He pulls your hips taut against his lap, starting to suck a hickey into your warm skin.

Eyes rolling back in your head, you feel him under you. Hard and in need of attention. Only his cotton boxers and your panties keep you from feeling that fullness you love so much.

Until it dawns on you, you were supposed to be appreciating him before he leaves you for God only knows how long. Your hand meets the middle of his bare chest, pressing him back into the pillows of your bed.

His eyes go wide, almost grinning at your reaction to his affection.

"I'm supposed to be appreciating my boyfriend, not the other way around."

"I can't kiss my girl now?" You leaned back, giving him a look. That looks that he immediately knows he'll be in trouble if he isn't careful with what he says.

"I'll shut up. Please continue, sweetheart." With a smug smirk, you lean back and kiss the mark above his lip one last time.

"That one's one of my favorites, but not my absolute favorite." His eyebrows raised. Lips parting with a soft smack of his lips.

"Oh? Well, now I need to know what your favorite one is. You can't make such a... Bold claim and then not share with me." His voice is playful, now barely above a whisper after kissing you lightly on the lips. "Enlighten me."

"Well, this little one right here." Leaning in, you kiss the mark in the middle of the right side of his jawline, nibbling gently for a second.

"This one used to be my favorite, because I noticed it the day we met. You looked so stressed, your jaw all clenched up and annoyed when you were in that stairwell at our old apartment building."

You move down from his jaw, kissing his neck, sucking another light red mark on his pale skin. He shivered slightly, eyes flickering closed. His hands wander at the bottom of his shirt that you're wearing, pulling it up past your hips, he rubs at your ass just poking out from the bottom of your panties.

"I thought you were so sexy even when you looked like you wanted to kill someone. Do you remember that day baby?" Letting out a shaky sigh, he nods in response, feeling you start to rock your clothed cunt against his hard on.

"You just looked so scared to talk to me, but you were the sweetest thing. Introducing yourself, all shy and so fucking pretty. You only got more and more irresistible whenever you get so much as smile at me." A slow roll of your hips on his cock made his voice break, a whiney moan slipping out of him.

"I remember you not being able to keep your eyes off me. Caught you staring at me more times than I could count before you finally just sucked it up and asked me out." You slowed your pace even further, grinding into Leon. His nails grabbing into the meat of your ass.

"Baby, it's getting really hard for me to not just... Throw you across the bed... You're gonna break me if you keep this up."

"Maybe that's the point. Make you nice and broken, so obsessed you can't stop thinking about me the entire time you're gone." Moving over you kiss him, rougher then any other kiss you've shared with him that morning. Pulling back, he follows your lips with a frustrated groan, opening his eyes to glare at you.

"Please baby, you're killing me. I need you." He damn near begs. You look down at him, grinning. Knowing you have most control over the situation.

"I never told you my favorite mark." You tease, running your nails lightly across his collar bone and up his neck to his jaw, making him shiver again.

"Do you want to know?"

"I'm sure... I know where it is."

"Oh, I'm positive you know." You move your nails along his jugular to his wind pipe. Caressing the mark just slightly to the right of his Adams apple. Licking your lips, you lean in kissing it, delicately, with a dreamy sigh.

"Oh fuck..." Leon melts under your lips, hands moving down to the crisp sheets, fisting them between his fingers. Trying his hardest to restrain himself as his face turned red. Biting his lip he lets out a shaky breath.

"So sensitive right here, I do love the sounds this one gets out of you. Always such a rough and tough big man until I so much as give you a little lick..."

Leaning in further, you give a kitten a lick, seeing his fingers tighten in the sheets out of the corner of your eye. You're honestly surprised he hasn't rip a hole in them yet.

"You're like putty in my hands."

In one swift movement, you were on your back. Breath jagged and rough as it blows over your face, Leon above you, his full weight pinning you to the bed.

"That's enough of your teasing, you fucking brat."

[wint3r-h3art]

The Sweetest Thing

Summary: It’s your Steve’s birthday, and you let him do whatever he wants to you.

Word count: 2.0K

Warning: SHAMELESS SMUT!! Steve is being nasty & unhinged. Oral (male receiving), face-fucking, & vaginal sex, creampied, Dirty talk (ooc ??? lol)

A/N: It’s that time of the year where I write Steve’s fic again, folks! Hope you liked it!  Please do heed the warning that this Steve is a bit OOC. Also, it’s been a while that I write anything, so I please be kind. I’m a little rusty. No beta either, so if I missed anything, I apologize in advance. Reblog & comment is greatly appreciated and mean so much!!

** Do not copy, repost, or translate my works anywhere else !!

Hot and humid breath danced across your skin as his lips traced along the column of your neck, leaving trails of goosebumps in its wake. The heat from his body radiated off of him and enveloped you with nothing but his scent lacing with the sweetness of the wine–fresh, sweet, and warm just like the month of July.  

His large palm grasped at your soft mound, squeezing gently at first before he let it trailed off along your waist then down and around the swell of your ass. Steve’s hand lingered there for a long moment before he gave you a big squeeze. 

You melted into his touches–completely surrendering yourself to him. After all, it was his birthday, and you did promise him that he could use you however he wanted. 

A surprised yelp slipped past your lips as he lifted you briefly and pressed your body against the wall. You hissed at the duality between the warmness of his hard body and the cold wall.

His hardness pressed against your aching pussy as it throbbed at the emptiness, wishing he would fill you up with that thick cock of his. Every part of you was so hyper-aware of him, it was almost painful. 

Another shuddering moan left your lips when you felt his teeth graze gently along your jawline. Sweet nothing muttered under his breath like an incantation, lulling you further into this haze. Your arms snaked around his neck as if you were holding on to the last sanity he left you with as he began to grind his bulge right into your needy pussy. 

Your soft whimper filled the room as the grinding continued. You wished he would give you more–anything, even if it was just the tip of his finger.

But you were at the mercy of his will when you said the words out loud the morning of his birthday.

Use me. Let me be your toy tonight. 

Normally Steve would have blushed and flustered, but after all the teasing you have been doing to him for the past couple of days, he was more than ready to retaliate.

“Need you,” you managed to whimper out loud as he was sucking on your pulse point. “Please…”

Steve didn’t answer. Instead, his mouth trailed down to wrap around your stiff nipple, tugging gently at it until you whined in protest. His cheeks hollowed to create suction around your sensitive mound, sucking so loudly that it was the only sound that filled your ears.

Thoughts of the others walking in on both of you didn’t really cross your mind until now. What would Bucky and Sam think of you in this state of undress with lipstick smeared across your lips and being used by Steve like this? 

“You’re thinking too hard again, sweetheart,” Steve murmured. “Thought you’re supposed to be my fuck toy. Fuck toy don’t think, remember?”

Under normal circumstances, you would have said something back to him, but it was his birthday, and you did give him permission to do whatever he wants. Plus, hearing Steve say those filthy words out loud just makes your pussy throb even harder for him. He had always been Mr. Perfect–so prim and proper, rarely cussed. Oh but now, you got him so worked up and so needy, that you got to see another side of Steve. 

“Stevie, please…,” you pleaded as you ground your pussy against him, but he suddenly pushed you back and held you there as he stared at you with dark pupils blown wide, drowning out those baby blues.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and get on that table for me?”

You hastily climbed up the table and laid there, thighs spread apart so that Steve could get a clear view of your drenching pussy. 

“Baby girl, you’re so wet for me…” he said under his breath. His cheeks flushed deep red as he stalked toward you with big strides. 

You could clearly see the impressive tent of his bulge pressing against the pants, almost to the point where the button was about to pop out. 

Steve noticed that you were staring, and he made it a show as he began to unbutton his shirt carelessly, popping off the buttons as they scattered across the floor. Your breath hitched in your throat as you watched the way his stiff muscles glistened under the light.

You eyed the dark blond hair that dusted along the hard ridges of his abdomen and swallowed as it disappeared under his waistband. Every molecule in your body practically screamed for him, yet Steve took his time climbing up the dining table.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he knelt astride your body. You watched him carefully as he began to undo his pants. You found yourself licking your lips when he took out his cock and started to stroke it mindlessly. He was already long and hard, and you just knew he was going to fuck your brain out.

Without a thought, you reached out to him, wanting to stroke him as well, but Steve suddenly pinned you down. His breath fanned across your face as he stared down at you.

“Since you want to be used by me so much, why don’t you be a good girl and open your mouth for me? Let me see how good of a fuck toy you are for me, baby girl.” 

Steve moved to knelt astride your head, his hand pumped along his shaft lazily as he waited for you to open up. 

Without a word of protest, you opened your mouth for him, and Steve took his time, probing the fat pink tip of his cock against your lips, teasing and smirking as you struggled to wrap your lips around him. Not a second too long, he caved in and began to push the head inside your mouth, watching you slowly swallow him inch by inch until you couldn’t anymore.

He let out a strangled moan as you began to suck on him. His eyes rolled to the back of his skull at the sensation. Steve muttered something incoherently as the desirous fire burst through his body and straight through his balls. 

“Such a good fuck toy you are, sweetie…just look at the way you’re sucking my cock makes me wanna come already…,” he said as he continues to roll his hips, fucking your mouth as you lay there. 

You couldn’t answer him except for the soft moaning against his dick in your mouth, and Steve felt like he was about to come then and there. Every part of him was straining from the effort of holding it in alone. 

You gagged and choked several times when Steve fucked into your mouth too deep. He was nice enough to pull back and let you catch your breath while he examined his work, watching you turn into an incoherent mess under him. Oh what a sight, he mused as he watched the way your eyes were tearing up and the way your makeup got ruined by him. 

“Look at you so eager to suck my cock…You want to be fucked hard, don’t you sweetie?”

You nodded eagerly, wiping your face as you sat up and hiking your dress even further up. 

“Please, Stevie….I need you so bad,” you whined. “I’ve been so good for you, so please…?”

“Please what?” he smirked, his fingers trained down to your drenching pussy, stroking at the slippery seam. He would occasionally press the tip of his fingers against your folds and pushed them in just enough to make you whine, but not enough to draw out any pleasure. He was a tease, alright. 

“Please fuck me,” you pleaded, rolling your hips to meet his fingers.

Steve pretended to think for a long moment as he knelt there, teasing you to the point where your body was trembling under him.

“Hmmm, but it’s up to me to decide though, right?” he eyed you as he pushed a single finger inside you. Your body tensed instantly as you locked eyes with him. “I can certainly fuck you with just this, and you can’t do a thing about it, right?”

You nodded as you relished the way his finger felt inside you, but you both knew it wasn’t enough, especially when you had a taste of his cock before. 

“Please, Stevie…I’ll be a good girl,” you pleaded again as you rocked against his fingers. “Please…need your cock so badly.”

Steve didn’t say anything, but he continued to tease you, fucking you with just his finger until he was bored enough to add another finger in. 

“God, I love it when you beg for me so prettily,” he murmured. “I supposed I’ll be nice and let you have it since you were so eager to suck my dick.”

Steve moved to stand at the end of the table, and he quickly discarded his pants and boxers. With a swift movement, you found yourself being grabbed by the ankles and being pulled toward him until your ass was hanging off the wooden table. 

He draped your legs over his broad shoulders and probed the head of his cock against your folds before slowly pushing himself in. A deep, guttural moan seemed to emit from his chest as he sheathed himself all the way inside you. 

Noises seemed to leave you when he began to move–slowly at first as if he was testing the way, and surely Steve began to set the pace, fast and brutal to the point where the noise of your body collided with the house. It was loud and wet, and oh so good. Every time he pushed a little too hard, you felt like you were being torn apart and put back together again simultaneously.

He was fast and brutal, and you didn’t care. You enable him to be this way. You wanted tongue and teeth, and Steve delivered just that. 

It was too overwhelming. No other thought filled your head except for the way his cock was practically tearing you into pieces, and you loved every second of it. Every time he felt your wall flutter around him, Steve would cease his movement and watch you look up at him with teary eyes. He knew he was being mean but not letting you come, but he was holding the reign here, and you were at his mercy at this point. 

He knew he was close as well by the way his balls would tighten up. Every movement was bringing him closer to the edge. When he knew he couldn’t hold it in anymore, he reached down to where you and he joined and began to rub your clit while he was moving in and out of. Your body instantaneously reacted to him. Before you knew it, you came with a soft cry while  Steve plunged into you with a brutal pace. 

He didn’t stop until he came hard inside you. He was gritting his teeth as he stood there, filling you up until he was dripping out onto the floor. Your body felt heavy and boneless. All you could do was stare at Steve with bleary eyes.

Not a moment too long, his lips found you with a gentle kiss that you could swear makes your toes curl if you weren’t too worn out already. Both of your bodies were slicked with sweat. His blond hair stuck to his forehead. His face flushed, and his breathing was heavy. 

“You ok?” He asked, blue eyes filled with concern as he eyed the aftermath. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

You shook your head and sat up, wrapping your legs around his taut waist. “No. It was perfect,” you told him before placing a long kiss on his lips. 

“Good because it’s not midnight yet, and I want to make sure I make good use of your gift,” he said before carrying you off the table with little effort. “I hope you’re ready for another round, Mrs. Rogers,” He smirked before carrying off into your bedroom.

[joestarkisser]

Selfship spaces, even in the current year, seem to stagnate to the 'default' of thin white person. It's jarring how, for example, a fat person will note the rising fatphobia growing in the world, and seek comfort with their F/Os, only to find all the imagines and fic and art to be thin.

It's always language that denotes thinness and whiteness in fanfiction and imagines. It's always "visible jawline", "prominent collarbones", "thin fingers", "dainty legs". It's always "carded fingers through your hair", "the pink hue of your cheeks", "button nose".

That isn't to say these don't have a place in selfship spaces. Everyone is welcome regardless of gender, race, and everything else. But thin white folk are so used to being the default, to being the only thing worth thinking about, that they don't even pay any mind to the fact their disadvantaged kin are struggling with real life oppression, and go about their day. Some will never acknowledge it, and some will acknowledge it and degrade other selfshippers for that struggle.

When you have the privilege of being the standard in real life, you forget that there are people who are mistreated because they aren't you.

So for all the fat selfshippers, the black selfshippers: You matter. You deserve fat-centric selfship spaces, you deserve black-centric selfship spaces, you deserve to have both at the same time.

It isn't "cringe", it isn't "annoying", and it isn't "entitled" to want selfship spaces to include you. You deserve to be included.

[brimbrimbrimbrim]

I wrote a Hellblade 2 fic for Senua/Thórgestr because I have a problem. Rated Explicit (as everything I write) and it’s kinda a love story?

Summary: Thórgestr is brought back to Sjavarrisi to heal from his wounds, while Senua avoids him by the sea. As a storm rolls in, she finds herself alone with him in the longhouse, where she decides that the Northman is everything else but what he once was, and there is room in her to feel love again.

‘He’s coming.’

‘Thórgestr. He shouldn’t be, though. He’s still too weak.’

‘Hurt… dead… almost dead. Should be dead. We saw him.’

From the wooden vardhus overlooking the cliffside seas where Senua sits aloft the briney spray of crashing waves, Thórgestr’s figure approaches. He is a black shift of shade ambling through fog and winter—a Draugr if not for time and the healing touch of the læknir. It had taken many a day and night to drag the dying-dead Northman to Ástríðr’s settlement against the shoreline, where the promise of someone—anyone but the viciously seething healer of the Borgarvirki—could save Thórgestr, for he’d shown Senua the rock beneath the moss… his soul beyond the flesh.

And, it was on those passes of moon and sun during their trek back to the sea cliffs of Sjavarrisi that she spoke to him. Of love—of Dillion—of home, fathers, mothers, and the hidden folk who still talk to her now. It had been easier then, back when he could not speak for the blood in his lungs and the infections that came and went without Thórgestr leaving for Helheim. But even in the nights, when time stretched long between the rattle of his inhale and the wheeze of his exhale, his eyes watched her. Those blue, odd depths, wet and red-rimmed, wait for Senua to speak again.

… and so she did. She spoke on small things, great things, and hidden things until Ástríðr brought them—at last—to her home by the cliffs.

The læknir that Ástríðr promised bore skills to bring back that which was nearing death and, in doing so, shook Senua.

‘Happily so.’

‘The tyrant that nearly pierced his heart. His own father. He, too, deserved to die…’

‘At first. Before. But not any longer.’

Now, the Northman lives, and with his voice returned, Senua speaks less. It is different when the audience of her tales and trials cannot comment in stride. It leaves her guarded now… distrustful, as though his winds will change and Senua will be a madwoman again, not a seer—not special.

She watches him from the lowest platform on the smallest vardhus as Thórgestr draws near, plodding on weakened legs with nothing but determination urging him forward. His ferocity to see her—to seek Senua out in the dark, in the cold—nourishes that distrust his waxing voice began.

Though it is winter, and though sea spray sprinkles from the crush and crash of waves upon the rocks below, Thórgestr appears chin held high, in bandages, leather brók… and little else. The muscles in Senua’s thigh—dangling from the platform overlooking the skerry—tense at the sight of skin and blood-daubed dressings. It is not like it was with Dillion… and yet…

‘He is nothing like her lover. Dead. Gone. Dead Dillion.’

‘No, nothing like him. Isn’t bad. Doesn’t have to be.’

Senua looks at the whole of him, then the pieces: strength beneath skin overgrown by vessels, rivers of moisture that coat curvature with love, a freshly shaven jawline with the raised welt of a shaky hand. She takes in these parts of him, then looks away as Thórgestr’s mouth curves upwards. He knows how her eyes linger in places, or perhaps it is that pleasantries are oddities, things Senua is unfamiliar with. These smiles, words, and looks freely given… as though he feels more for her than Senua does him… yet doesn’t mind—is patient—content to wait.

‘He will wait for her. She knows he is changed. She has changed him.’

‘And he likes to wait… they all do.’

‘You’re just a prize to be won now. A souvenir, like the Goði said.’

‘No. Senua is special…’

“It is cold,” Thórgestr says, a brisk tremor that is hot where the world is cold. He leans against the vardhus’ wooden post, unashamed—it would appear at first glance—of the weakness his wound lays over his shoulders, “Only getting colder.”

‘He doesn’t want you to freeze out here, Senua.’

And then, when Senua refuses to look at him, Thórgestr continues, “You know, as a boy, I would find the highest rock and sit, contemplating my purpose. Even then, my father found love in power. Control. I would do anything to be away from him then…”

‘He’s trying to reach out. Shared experiences… camaraderie… why does she push him away?!’

‘It’s no use. She doesn’t like him. Hates him!’

“I do not mind the cold,” Senua tells him, harsh and finite.

‘Tell him to go away. You don’t need him, Senua.’

She looks to the sea where the remnants of the giant’s fall have left the sea brackish and tumultuous with new disruptions that send foamy droplets up the landslip, wetting the cliff’s edge. Jagged, hunched rocks split waves like the onslaught of a raid, filling the coast with Aegir’s horrible lullabies. Only after a disagreement begins on the horizon between sea and sky does she look back to Thórgestr, whose gaze has not left Senua, though his eyes shift to meet hers.

‘Where was he looking?’

“It is you who should worry,” she scolds, “Unless you prefer to freeze. Bound to your sick bed.”

‘Look. He is warm, though. Not cold.’

‘Let him warm you, Senua.’

I’ve got the rest on AO3 cause it’s like almost 10k. Feel free to check it out HERE.

[builtbybrokenbells]

Picasso

after months of silent pining over the boy across the hall, y/n finds herself face to face with the one person she can’t seem to get off her mind. a friendly dinner and a night spent in the art studio leads to more truth being revealed than either bargained for. a profession of attraction leads to an opportunity for an unconventional hookup, where Sam gets to make her first time unforgettable.

COLLEGE DORM AU

Read aftermath here

Pairing: Sam Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 15.5k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, fingering (f!receiving), oral (f!receiving), unprotected sex (wrap it, folks), virgin/virginity talk, losing virginity (sam the v card thief 🫣), praise kink, pet names, sexual anxiety/performance anxiety, soft gentle sex (fuck me up fr), fluff, swearing, anxiety, embarrassing crushes, sorry if I miss any!

😮‍💨 sorry this took so long folks. it’s a lengthy one, so prepare yourself. i got a bit carried away. soft Sam fucks me up real bad. hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it!! as always, be kind, enjoy, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes!!

~

You weren’t sure who he was. You had no idea where he was from, what he was studying, or if he even knew you existed. Still, that didn’t seem to stop the awkward staring, or the blushing cheeks, or even the speeding heart rate every time he came into your line of vision. You hated yourself for the uncontrollable longing you felt for the boy across the hall, knowing that you would forever be too nervous to approach first. The first few months of your university experience were relatively normal; meeting friends, studying relentlessly, and trying to navigate a brand new life that was so foreign from the last. Then, after the novelty of freshman year wore off, and the hallways were routinely more empty than you’d grown used to, you started to run into him.

The first time you saw him, you almost missed him. You only noticed the back of his head as he disappeared around the corner. But, almost as if fate was playing a sick trick on you, he happened to forget something in his room. When he came back around the corner, giving you the opportunity to see his face, it felt as though you’d received a punch to the stomach. Thankfully, he was in too much of a rush to notice your staring. His long, brown hair looked messy, yet perfectly styled around his slender face. His jawline was sharp, angled gracefully into a perfect chin. The space just above held his lips, a permanent upturn in the corner adorned on them, although barely noticeable in passing. His brown eyes looked inviting, a colour you could spend all day lost in. Once he passed you, you knew it was too late; you’d already fallen for him, and there was no escape.

Perhaps it was because you came from a small town, one where all of the boys looked like the same person, just in a different font. You’d never met a boy who caught your eye quite like he did. He had a charming aura without even speaking, which was impossible to attain, according to your standards. You never really wasted time on dating, more or less finding it pointless. You were well aware there was no person to find in your town that would work out long-term. You were never a date for heartbreak type, understanding that there was no need of having a relationship if you start it with a pre-existing condition that it will inevitably end. You had a few bad experiences with the boys you’d given a chance, and never tried again. It wasn’t worth the hurt, or the trouble, so you kept to yourself. But, whatever it was about the boy across the hall, you were certain if you ever got the chance, you’d want it to last a lifetime.

After the initial shock of seeing him, you seemed to notice him everywhere. Every time you left your room, his door was open, or he was in the hallway talking to his friends. He was always running into you at meal hall, taking post in your favourite spots in the library, and even in some of your classes. You had no idea how you’d gone so long without noticing him, because now, he never ceased to exist in your mind and your life. You’d never managed to get the nerve to speak with him, or even muster a wave when he passed by. The most the two of you shared was a smile each morning; which admittedly, made your day a whole lot better every time. As unfortunate as it was, the two of you had mastered the art of remaining strangers despite the constant desire to be more.

You never verbalized your feelings to anyone, not your friends, or even yourself. You thought it was a bit ridiculous to be infatuated with someone solely based on looks. Yet, you found yourself creating a fabricated version of him, one that you deducted based on what you noticed over the passing weeks. One where he was funny, in a sarcastic or a goofy type of way. One where he was very laid back, but very involved in the lives of the people he loved. And the worst one of all; one where he was fantastic in bed. You thought it was alright to daydream, even if you would never know for certain in this lifetime.

Despite your mostly quiet pining, everybody around you was well aware of how you felt about mystery boy. Your friends seemed to take extra measures to point him out in a public setting, or ‘unintentionally’ cross paths with him. They never admitted it, but you knew what they were doing. Instead of fighting about it, which would only give them the answer they so desperately wanted from you, you laughed alongside them at the ‘strange coincidences’. Although, one thing inherently positive that came from the whole ordeal, was that you’d made acquaintance’s with his best friend, Danny. You’d found out that he was also in a few of your classes, and lived on the floor above you.

He occasionally stopped by your room for a quick chat, or some help with projects. He was friendly, and tall, and quite attractive, too. You never mentioned his friend that lived across the hall, and he didn’t, either. As far as you were concerned, your friendship with Danny would remain just as such, with no hidden implications about the beautiful boy he spent most his time with. Never once would you ever want to make him feel like you’d become friends with him just to get closer to his best friend, because you didn’t. Any hello, or how are you, or any of the conversations you’d shared had always been because you wanted to talk to him. You liked him, and just so happened to find it much easier to strike conversations with him, too.

You walked down the hallway, pushing your way through the swarms of people preparing to leave for spring break. That Friday marked the end of classes for a week, meaning that lots of people were either packing up to return home for a few days, or headed somewhere much warmer to drink themselves into oblivion. You had opted to stay for the week, finding no real desire to visit your family, and having no available funds to travel the world. All of your friends were leaving, presenting a fantastic opportunity for you to catch up on some schoolwork. You keyed into your room, dropping your bag on your bed and kicking your shoes off. You threw on your slippers and took your hair down from its clip.

You walked into your bathroom, seeing a note stuck on the mirror. You pulled it off, reading over the scribbled words. Your suite mate had left for the week, wishing you a good time and telling you she’d see you soon. You smiled, slipping it into your pocket to add to your collection of first-year memorabilia. You had an elaborate final project planned for your introductory art class, and you were collecting as many pieces to add to it as possible, wanting nothing more than to make a showstopper. You fixed your makeup in the mirror and combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to sharpen yourself up after a long day of classes. As you returned to your room, you heard a knock on your door.

When you opened it, you saw a familiar, smiling face. “Well hello.” You said, pulling the door open fully.

“Hey, Picasso.” Danny greeted. “What are you up to?”

“Just got back, actually. I stayed late at the studio. Trying to get my practical piece done for my painting class.”

“I see. Have you started the essay for poetry?” You shook your head, stomach sinking at the thought.

“I was going to start that this weekend. I just picked my topic. I’ve got a couple years worth of Shakespeare sonnets to read.” Danny was an English major, and you were an arts major, but your classes seemed to cross due to your minor in writing.

“That’s such a cop out topic,” He teased, leaning against the door frame. “And it’s spring break, aren’t you supposed to be having fun?”

“Fuck you.” You laughed, waving your hand to invite him inside. “Spring break is only fun for rich kids taking business majors.” You joked.

“Us arts kids know how to have fun, too, you know. We don’t have to get on a plane to do that.” He reminded you, walking inside and taking a seat on your bed.

“Well, what about you, then? Any big plans?”

“Frankenmuth.” He said, trying to make it sound more exciting than it was. You raised an eyebrow at him, expecting something more to the statement, but that was all he said.

“Enthralling.” You laughed, taking a seat in your desk chair. You watched the people pass by in the hallway, no real thoughts in your head. “Just you going?” You asked, eyes falling on the door closed just across from yours.

“Yeah, my friends are gonna stay here. Just thought I’d go back and visit the parents for a few days. Don’t think I’m staying the whole week.”

“Nothing wrong with that, Danny boy.” You said, flipping your laptop open that was sitting on your desk. “When are you leaving?”

“Tonight, probably. I like driving at night.” You were okay with that, completely agreeing with his statement. There was something very peaceful about driving in the dark, especially when the roads are mostly barren. It was almost like time stood still. You knew the drive wasn’t too long for him, so you had faith he would be alright. “That’s why I came to see you.”

“You’re so sweet,” you grinned, opening Netflix and throwing on the most recently watched show. “Gonna miss me?”

“Of course, Picasso.” He said as if it were obvious. “Come with me, if you want.” He offered.

“You wouldn’t want me to tag along, your parents might like me too much.” He laughed at your words.

“And that’s a problem?”

“You wanna listen to them ask about me for the rest of your life?” You teased.

“Doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.” He shrugged.

“You’re too nice for your own good.” You chuckled. “As much as I would love to spend reading week with you, I very much need access to an art studio and shitty, free coffee refills from the library.”

“I know,” he assured you. “If you change your mind, offers there.”

“Thanks, Danny.” You said, more sincerity in your tone than before.

“The reason I came down here though, was to see if you wanted to grab dinner with us before I leave.”

“Us?” You questioned, cocking your head to the side.

“Yeah, me and Sam. I know you told me your friends already left, so I thought maybe you’d like some company.”

“Oh, so it’s a pity invite?” You smirked. He rolled his eyes.

“No, I want you to come. Thought that was kind of obvious.”

“Just pulling your leg.” You assured him. “Uh, who’s Sam?” You laughed, feeling a little ridiculous for not knowing. He watched you with confusion, waiting to see if you were joking.

“Sam? Kiszka? Like, the guy who lives across the hall?” He asked, completely baffled. “You don’t know Sam?”

“Oh!” Your cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah, I know who he is. That’s your best friend, right?” Danny nodded. “Yeah, I know him. Just didn’t know his name. Never really spoke to the guy.” You laughed, trying to pass off the awkwardness.

“Fuck, y/n, I thought you guys knew each other! I’m sorry I didn’t introduce him to you.”

“No! Don’t be sorry, Danny.” You waved it off. “I never brought it up, either.”

“That’s weird though, cause he definitely knows you. He knew who you were when I mentioned we were working together on that last poetry assignment. I was under the impression that you guys were neighbourly.” He shrugged, confusion still lingering in his features.

“Oh, uh… I guess my names on my whiteboard. Maybe that’s why. He’s definitely seen me around. We smile at each other and stuff in the halls, but that’s about it.” Danny eyed you almost as if he didn’t believe you.

“Well, he seems pretty fond of you for someone he only smiles at in the hallway.” You felt the blush rise to your cheeks again, embarrassed even at the thought of him mentioning your name. “You do know him, don’t you?”

“No, I swear I’m telling you the truth.” You raised your hands in defence. He watched you, scanning your face for a hint of a lie. After a second, his expression lit up.

“You have a crush on him!” He bellowed, feeling accomplished for finally solving the mystery. Your head whipped to the open door, making sure nobody was in the hallway.

“Shut up!” You hissed, making a move to shut the door. “I do not!” You said once you protected the privacy.

“That’s a lie, Picasso.” He let out a disapproving tsk.

“I don’t even know the guy.” You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, he’s attractive, but I can’t exactly like someone I don’t know.”

“Sure you can, and you do.” He grinned. “And you’ll like him even more after dinner tonight.” He decided.

“So now I don’t have a choice if I go or not?”

“No, not at all. I’ll leave you to get ready. He should be back around 6.” Danny stood, not willing to hear any protests.

“Danny, if you say anything to him, I swear to god I will kill-“

“Lips are sealed, Picasso. See you at six.” He sent you a wink before disappearing out the door. You felt your stomach twist in knots, nervous that Danny was going to mention something to him.

You distracted yourself by scouring your closet for something acceptable to wear. You cursed him for leaving so soon; he didn’t even tell you where you were going. You had no idea if you should dress nice, or casual. As you checked the time, you decided that somewhere in the middle would be suitable. A nice shirt and a pair of black jeans, just to dress it down a bit. You went to the bathroom and quickly ran your curling iron through your hair with no real effort, just to give it a bit of volume. You brushed your teeth and touched up your makeup again, spritzing on some perfume before you walked back to your room. You threw on some jewelry, deciding if you were going to properly meet mystery boy, or Sam, rather, you were going to make a good first impression.

When the clock struck six, there was an insistent knock on your door. When you opened it, Danny was beaming down at you once more. “You clean up good, Picasso.” He complimented. Rarely did he ever see you out of your studio clothes; you were always covered in paint, or plaster, or some other sort of artistic expression. You spent more time in the studio than you did anywhere else. Of course, the workload was heavy even for first year, but you spent a lot of free time there, too. It was great for your mental health, and aside from your projects, you made smaller pieces to sell on the side. Unlimited access to art tools was a huge benefit to going to the university you chose, and your talent allowed you to make some extra money. Making a living off something you loved to do made your university experience a million times better.

“Thanks, Daniel.” You laughed. “Ready to go?” You asked.

“Yeah, you?” You nodded. You threw on a denim jacket, finishing off the outfit. You joined Danny in the hall, looking around to spot Sam. When you didn’t see him, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of disappointment.

“Where are we going?” You asked, distracting yourself from the feeling.

“There’s this little Italian restaurant downtown. I’ve been meaning to try it, but never got around to it. Figured tonight was as good as any other night. Is that cool with you?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m not picky.” You assured him.

“Awesome.” He breathed, making a move to the other side of the hallway. He stood before Sam’s door, sending a knock echoing through the air. Within a few seconds, the door swung open to reveal the boy you couldn’t seem to get out of your head. His hair was slightly damp, and the smell of his shampoo hit you almost instantly. He pointed at you without a word, causing you to shoot him a nervous look. He got a small laugh at your reaction.

“You copied my outfit.” He accused, a goofy smile etched onto his expression. You looked down at what you were wearing, then back to him. You were both wearing Jean jackets with a black base layer. After a second, you laughed, too.

“Guess so.” You shrugged, trying to ignore the incessant butterflies running rampant in your stomach. “I’m y/n,” you held a hand out to shake.

“Sam.” He said, reciprocating the gesture. “I guess we’ve never properly introduced ourselves.” He noted.

“Not very neighbourly of us, was it?” You chuckled. His eyes lingered over you, taking in the whole sight before humming an agreement. You desperately tried to fight away the blush rising to your cheeks, but failed miserably. You hoped he didn’t notice.

“I hear from Daniel that you’re quite the artist.” He said, the smile never leaving his face. At his words, the redness on your cheeks completely took over, leaving no doubt that he could see it.

“Modern day Picasso, actually.” Danny corrected.

“You’ll have to show me, sometime.” Sam’s tone was soft, no tone of sarcasm present.

“Maybe I can sneak you into the studio someday.” You offered.

“It’s a date, then.” He said it so effortlessly, like the words meant nothing, but it set every nerve in your body on fire.

“G-guess so,” you tried to cover up your stutter, but they certainly noticed. You were thankful they didn’t comment on it. Sam stepped into the hallway, closing his door behind him. The three of you ventured towards the exit of the building without another word.

The evening was cool, but not unbearable. By the time you’d walked to the restaurant, you had managed to shake some of the nervousness off. The small chatter and jokes eased the tension by miles, allowing you to enjoy the company rather than fear embarrassment. Danny went inside first, Sam holding the door open for both of you. You muttered a small thank you, disappearing inside of the building. The smell of the food was fantastic, and the decoration and atmosphere was incredibly inviting. Danny noticed a ‘seat yourself’ sign, taking it open himself to lead the group to a booth. He slid in one side and you sat across from him. Sam looked between the two seats, ultimately deciding to sit next to you. The booth was tiny, and as he settled and got comfortable, his leg was gently resting against yours. You felt your heart speed, trying not to focus on the constant contact.

You all ordered after taking a good look over the menu. As you were waiting, Sam turned to you to speak. “So, Picasso,” he started. You turned your head to look at him, strangely pleased at the way the nickname sounded on his tongue. “Any travel plans for the week?”

“Oh, no.” You shook your head. “Love them, but my family drives me crazy, and I have too much work to get done to go anywhere else.” You admitted. “You?”

“No, I thought it was best to stay, too. I get what you mean about the family thing. Love them to death, but peace and quiet is nice, sometimes.” He chuckled. “Daniel will have to go on the journey alone.”

“So you guys are from the same town?” You looked between the two. They both nodded.

“Yeah, best friends since, what, middle school?” Danny laughed.

“Pretty much.” Sam agreed.

“That’s cool, actually. Nice that you guys have a piece of home here with you.”

“What about you? Any piece of home here?” You shook your head.

“No, and thank god there isn’t. Wanted to get the hell out of my hometown and start over. It’s worked so far.” You explained.

“Where are you from?” Sam asked, now intrigued.

“Arizona. Small town in the middle of nowhere, where everybody looks and acts the same and you get chastised if you’re any different.”

“Mind-numbing.” He replied. You nodded, unable to agree more. “Everybody needs originality.”

“Not them, apparently. I couldn’t wait to leave, and I never want to go back.” You almost shuddered at the thought.

“So where after this?” Sam never let his eyes leave you, as if he wanted to engrave every detail of your face in his mind.

“Uh, wherever, I guess. I haven’t really thought about it. I may travel for a while if I can before I commit to anywhere.”

“Smart woman,” he gave a small smile. “Know your options before you settle down.”

“Yeah, I suppose you could look at it that way.” Your conversation was interrupted by the waitress bringing drinks and setting them in front of you. You sipped from your straw, pondering what to speak about, next. “What are you taking, Sam?” You suddenly remembered you hadn’t asked him, yet.

“Oh, music theory.” He said. You eyed him in shock, not expecting that answer.

“What instrument?”

“Piano, on the paper at least.” He laughed. “I like playing bass and guitar more, but I figured they’d be more likely to accept me with piano as my focus.”

“Smart move.” You pondered the information for a moment. “Listen to this one,” you caught both of their attention. “So, Picasso, Shakespeare and Billy Joel walk into an Italian restaurant,” you started, causing a chorus of laughter from both boys.

“You play a piano once and you can never escape the Billy Joel jokes.” Sam shook his head, ghost of a laugh still lingering on his lips. You couldn’t help but admire him, feeling the overwhelming curiosity of wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

“You’ll be alright, piano man.” Danny assured him.

“Yeah, you can even sing us a song, if you want. That might make you feel better.” He shot you a look of warning, but there was visible humour laced in it. The both of you were feeling the nervous tension melt away more by the second.

The time passed too quickly for your liking; the meal was fantastic and the company was even better. When the time to leave came around, you were begging the clock just for another minute. You had spent the whole night beating yourself up for not getting over your fear and speaking with Sam sooner. Aside from him being incredibly attractive, he was funny, and charming, and quite sweet, too. You felt like you’d missed out on a lot. Even if nothing romantic happened, you’d could consider yourself content just being his friend. When the waitress brought the bills over, Sam took it upon himself to ensure you couldn’t get your hands on the debit machine. As you all filtered back outside into the cool night air, your feeling of nervousness returned. Looking at Sam, how the glow from the street lights casted over his face, how his hair flowed in solidarity, messy but perfect all in one, made you realize that knowing him only made the desire so much stronger.

Somewhere deep down you hoped he was an asshole, so you could finally shake the hopeless feeling of need for him. The more you talked to him, the more you fell for the goofiness of his aura, the humour he wore so proudly, or the kindness permanently anchored behind his words. He was more than just a pretty face, and to you, it was devastating. The last thing you wanted was to fall for someone, but you were well aware that it had happened long before your night of pasta critique. “You headed back to dorm?” Sam asked, his hand on your upper arm breaking you from your thoughts. You swallowed hard, trying to shake off your brains’ incessant reminders of what it felt like to be touched by him.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“I’m headed out, now, I think.” Danny said, looking between the two of you. “Packed the car earlier, so I should hit the road.”

“Oh,” you breathed, trying to keep your eyes on him, and him only. “Which lot are you parked in?”

“The one by our building. I’ll walk back with you guys.” You nodded at his words, feeling a sudden rush of relief knowing you wouldn’t have to walk alone with Sam. Not that you would mind being alone with him, more of a fear of embarrassing yourself somehow. The three of you started the short walk with few words exchanged in the process. When you reached the entrance to the parking lot, you all stopped to bid a farewell.

Danny pulled you into a quick hug, thanking you for going to dinner. He hugged Sam, letting him know he’d text him when he was back home. “Might text for poetry help.” You smiled at him.

“You could text me just to say hi, too, you know.” Danny reminded.

“That is my way of saying hi.” You laughed. “Too nervous to be upfront.”

“No need for that, Picasso. I’ll see you guys soon.” He promised. You and Sam waved goodbye as he parted from the trio, leaving the two of you to yourselves. You kept your eyes glued to the ground, wanting to look anywhere other than his beautiful face.

“You have anywhere to be?” Sam eventually spoke. You found the courage to meet his eyes, feeling the butterflies erupt in your stomach once more.

“I was thinking about heading to the studio, actually.” You very much enjoyed your 24/7 access to the art building. It made your usually boring weekends a bit more enjoyable.

“Care for some company?” He smiled.

“You trying to get me in trouble, piano man?” You smirked.

“Nobody will ever know I was there.” He promised. You pondered the idea, realizing that it was more than likely nobody would be there, anyway. It was usually quite barren in the evenings, even more so considering the week-long holiday.

“Okay.” You nodded, holding your hand out for him to grab. “Come on.” He wasted no time slipping his hand into yours. You took off in a run back to the dorm with him following closely behind. You both made it to the front entrance of the building, keying in and immediately running to your rooms. “I just have to change.” You told him before disappearing into your room. You quickly changed into your work clothes, realizing how embarrassing the new outfit was. There was old paint stains on the t-shirt and jeans, years worth of artistic memories begging to be washed away. You didn’t waste too much time dwelling, too eager to be back in Sam’s company.

You were nervous to be alone with him, but the thrill of seclusion with him was overshadowing anything else. You thought maybe you’d be able to unravel some of the mystery, to get a chance to hear about his stories and memories that were hidden away. When you went back into the hallway, Sam was waiting for you. He had also changed into different clothes, a pair of sweatpants and a tattered old band shirt with the logo worn down to just a shadow. He had a sly smile graced his lips. “Ready?” You breathed. He gave a nod, silently hoping you’d reach out for his hand again. When you started walking down the hall, he followed after you, only momentary disappointment taking over.

You walked side by side to the art building, buzzing with unspoken excitement. When you reached the doorway, you scanned your access card on the reader and the lock clicked open. As you pulled on the handle, you looked back at him and pressed a finger to your lips, signalling for him to stay quiet, just in case anyone else was around. Regular students were allowed in the art building during office hours, but art students were the only ones granted access outside of normal school times. You were sure you’d only get a slap on the wrist if someone realized he wasn’t an art student, but you still didn’t want to take the chance. He nodded, ensuring he wouldn’t make a peep. You took his hand again, leading him inside and directly to the stairwell to the basement.

You took a sigh of relief when you let the studio door close behind you. You went right to your small locker where you stored your paint supplies and brushes. You unlocked it with a tiny key you kept around your neck. You pulled out your belongings, nodding Sam in the direction of the main room. The bright fluorescent lights were nothing new to you, but it seemed like it almost caught him off guard. You set your stuff down on a desk and grabbed an easel, carrying it over to where you were planning to sit. “I’ll be right back.” You told him, walking off to a side room. You opened the door, flicking the light on in the small storage space. You grabbed your large canvas, careful not to bump the front of it, worried it still may not have completely dried. You took it back out to the main room and propped it up on the easel, pulling a stool in front of it.

Sam moved a second chair over, sitting beside you. His eyes drifted over the artwork, scanning it intently and drinking up every detail like he needed it to survive. “I see why Danny calls you Picasso, now.” He mumbled, still looking over all of the details. You felt the redness creep up on your cheeks again, flattered at his compliment. “This place anything special to you, or just a stock photo?” There was a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Well, the cabin is. It’s my family’s. We spent a lot of time up there when I was a kid. The background is pretty dramatized, cause my inspiration pictures were a little bland.” You chuckled. “We’ve been working on landscapes, so I figured I would paint something meaningful.” The large oil painting had the image of the aforementioned cabin nestled in a plot of trees. The leaves were radiating the colours of autumn, and the neutral mountains in the background made the colours stand out. A small stream flowed through the mountain valley, and birds floated through the air. There were patches of flowery grass and bushes covering the ground. The outline was finished, and you’d been working on the intimate details of the piece. You were estimating only a few more hours of work, eager to have this finished so you could move on to the next project.

“It’s stunning.” He said, moving back to look at you again.

“Thanks,” your voice was soft, full of gratitude.

“Have you always wanted to be an artist?” He asked. You thought about the question, pondering the appropriate answer.

“I always loved art, but don’t think I actually decided to study it until late into high school. I never thought I’d be able to make it, but then I entered a few contests and won, and I guess it kind of kick started the process of getting here. At first, my parents weren’t super supportive of the idea. I think they’d rather me be a doctor or a lawyer, but they knew it would only make me miserable. Now that they see what I’m doing, and how happy it makes me, they’re a bit more on board. Their encouragement really helped me feel like I was supposed to be here.” You explained. “Deep down, I probably always knew I would do art for a living, but I fought it for a long time. It’s not really regarded as a ‘profession’, and I think that discouraged me for a long time.”

“Don’t ever feel that way again.” He shook his head, looking back towards the canvas. “Someone with talent like this should never second guess themselves.” You swallowed hard, having a difficult time digesting such a compliment. “This is the type of stuff to end up in galleries.”

“You’ll have to let me design your album art when you release your EP, then.” You smiled.

“You haven’t even heard me play yet.” He brushed the comment off, a small laugh lingering in his words.

“Don’t have to, I just know.” You said, pulling out your glass palate. You sifted through your bag of paints, choosing the colours carefully. You squeezed small amounts on the surface, looking back towards the large painting. You started to work, unsure of where the conversation would lead to next.

“What music do you like?” He asked, watching your hands as you painted.

“Everything.” You said, never losing your focus. “Not picky.”

“You have to have a favourite.” He inquired. A smile tugged at your lips.

“Well, yeah.” You rolled your eyes.

“What is it, then?” He laughed, eyes moving to your face.

“Guess.” You thought if he wanted to get to know you, he could work for it, first. At least a little bit.

“You’re a classical person, aren’t you?” You looked at him through the corner of your eyes, furrowing your eyebrows slightly.

“Insulting,” you replied. “You think I’m that boring?” You teased.

“Worth a shot.” He shrugged. “Rock?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I like metal, too, but I mostly stick with rock.”

“Never would have guessed the metal part.” His surprise was showing in his expression.

“Yeah, well, I have lots of tricks up my sleeve.” You chuckled, wiping your brush on your apron.

“Can’t wait to figure them out.” His words were smooth, concise, even, as if he was waiting to deliver the line the whole night. Your stomach fluttered with the thought of him wanting to know more about you. You both fell into a silence, eventually playing music off your phone to fill the stale air. You were fine without words exchanged; you enjoyed him sitting with you while you worked. He didn’t seem to mind either, enthralled in your technique. “What’s your favourite thing to paint?” He eventually disturbed the quiet.

“I like nature. It’s always so calming to recreate. So many different options, and imperfections don’t cause an issue, because nature isn’t perfect. I think that’s what makes it beautiful.” You explained. He nodded along, hoping you would keep talking. You noticed, feeling less reserved about your ramblings, realizing you wanted to share them with him. “Nature is the only constant. It was here from the beginning, and it will be here long after we die, even if it’s changed million times. It carries infinite memories from every era, and it’s our only consistency in this lifetime, and the ones previous. I like the idea of a timeless art piece. If someone looks at this a hundred years from now, they’ll be able to appreciate it the same way we can. Nobody will have to wonder about the origins of the picture. People die, animals pass, but the earth always outlives us. When the day comes and it dies, too, we go with it.” He nodded again, studying your face. He had been for a while, although you hadn’t really noticed. He was watching the way your eyes focused when you were doing delicate work, or how your lips pursed when your brush wasn’t doing exactly what you wanted it to. He also noticed every time you let out a minuscule sigh, content with the flow of the paint, or when you smiled when a familiar song came on the shuffle. He’d been studying you just as much as you did, him, admiring you just the same. He was enthralled in your presence, also never expecting to have you this close to him.

The art of your silent admiration had left little room for belief of a chance for it to happen so intimately. He was basking in the moment, in you. The smell of the paint and your perfume was embedding the memory in his brain forever. The beauty in your passion was electrifying, and he was certain he could watch it all day. He also felt the same when he passed you in the hallways, and caught himself peeking into your room when you had the door open. He felt the same fluster when you smiled at him, and awaited the conversations when Danny spoke your name. He also struggled with the idea of talking to you first, worried about rejection or embarrassment. From what he’d seen, you never showed an inkling of interest, and he didn’t want to come off in the wrong way. When Danny brought the idea of inviting you to dinner, he nearly jumped at the opportunity. Sam’s feelings had also remained quite silent, although his childhood best friend was quick to catch on to the situation. Now with a promise to both of you that your emotions would be kept a secret, it was up to both of you to figure things out. All Danny could do was cheer you on from both sides. “You’ve got a beautiful way of seeing the world.” He noted.

“If you don’t love the earth, you can’t expect it to love you back.” You said, finally turning to look over at him. You were caught off guard at his proximity, noticing he had definitely moved closer since you’d started working. He was sitting a little ahead of you, but his body was turned to be angled towards you. When he caught your surprised look, he gave a small smile.

“I thought you wanted to come and see the art, Sam.” You teased, finding the confidence to make a quick pass about his position.

“I’m looking at it.” He quipped back without a moment of hesitation. You opened your mouth to reply, but couldn’t find any words, flustered at the proclamation. Without another word, he turned to look back at the canvas, leaving you to wonder if his words were satire, or if they had meaning. You took a few seconds to recover, but ultimately pushed the statement to the back of your mind. You continued on, dabbing blots of paint onto the picture and blending it gently. “You know, if you’re looking for a customer, I’d be happy to take this off your hands when you’re finished.”

“You couldn’t afford me, Kiszka.” You joked, using the tip of your finger to get a better blend on a saturated area. You fixed it up with a brush afterwards.

“You think so?” He hummed, not bothering to turn and face you.

“I know so.” You told him, wiping your hand on the apron. You weren’t sure if it was the months of tension catching up to you, or the exhaustion, or the smell of his cologne, but you were desperate for him to turn and face you again. “If you want it, it’s yours.” You breathed, deciding to drop the facade. “Once it’s graded, I have nowhere to put it.”

“How much do you want for it?” He asked, still facing away from you.

“Free, for you.” You said softly, a smile creeping up on you.

“Absolutely not.” He turned now, finally meeting your eyes. “You worked hard on it, you used your own materials. I’m giving you something for it.” He said, finality dripping in his tone. You couldn’t help but shift under his gaze, the authority sending a pleasant jolt of electricity through you.

“Think of it as a token of friendship.” You whispered, unable to stop yourself from looking over his features. The admiration in your eyes was impossible to overlook.

“Friendship?” He questioned after a moment of silence, a new sense of confidence washing over him. “Ouch,” he said, the same cocky smirk playing on the corner of his mouth. You bit the inside of your lip, feeling your breath catch in your throat. You weren’t so willing to fall for the idea that he may have felt the same way. Instead of turning away, he watched you, hoping you’d make a notion of reciprocation. After the shock wore off, you started to understand that he was being serious.

“Courtship?” You corrected yourself, feeling your heart drumming against your chest.

“I think I like that better,” he whispered, eyes falling down to your lips for a second before correcting himself. “Do you?”

“I certainly don’t have an issue with it.” You admitted. He watched you carefully, almost as if he was nervous to advance the situation any further. After a moment of deliberation, he reached his hand up and cupped your cheek, using his thumb to wipe off a smudge of paint.

“Some paint,” he informed you.

“Oh,” you breathed, eyes never leaving him. “Did you get it all?” He inspected further, tucking some hair behind your ear as he did so.

“Mm, I think I missed a spot.” He deducted. You set your palate and brush on the table, not wanting to miss a moment of him. He advanced further, but only slightly, pretending to look harder. You couldn’t fight back a smile. “Want me to get it?” He looked back up at your eyes, hand never moving from your cheek.

“Okay,” you nodded, playing into his act.

“You sure?” He asked again, mostly to tease, but he also wanted to ensure you were comfortable.

“Positive.” You promised. Without wasting any more time, he leaned in and pressed his lips against yours.

It was soft, but his lips felt like they were burning into your skin. You reached your own hand out, letting it fall to the back of his neck. You pulled him closer, careful not to get any paint on his clothes in the process. He ran his tongue across your bottom lip, practically begging for more. You were quick to respond, parting your lips and allowing him to deepen the kiss. His other hand slipped to your hip, letting his fingers gently sink into the skin. When he pulled away, you were both breathless and craving more. He let his forehead rest on yours, dreading putting any more distance between your bodies. You gave a smile, unsure of what else you could do to express how you felt. It was like months of torture finally derived into pleasure. No more watching him as he walked past, wondering about his name or what it would be like to say it, or hear him say yours. No more wondering what it felt like to be kissed by him, because now, you knew, and it was way better than you ever imagined. “I’m not sure if I got it.” He admitted, causing a giggle from you. He pulled you in for another kiss, this one shorter and more lighthearted.

“Is it gone?” You asked, intoxicated from the feeling of his lips.

“If I said no, would you believe me?” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Yeah, just because I’d like to kiss you again, though.” His thumb trailed over your cheek as he rested his hand on your jaw. He placed a small peck on your lips, causing you to hum in satisfaction. “I wanted to do that for a really long time.” You said. He pulled back a bit, taking in your expression.

“Me, too.” He chuckled.

“Really?” He gave a nod.

“Since the first time I saw you.”

“Me, too.” You copied his earlier statement. “It’s been a long couple months of admiring you from a distance.”

“Why’d you never say anything?” He questioned, hand still keeping a delicate hold on your face.

“I was scared. Thought maybe you’d think I was weird, or you’d be an asshole. You’re too pretty to be nice, too. It’s not fair.” You laughed. “I didn’t even think you knew I existed.”

“How could I not?” He was almost offended at the thought. You shrugged your shoulders. “You’re the only person I’ve been looking at.” You felt your cheeks heat up again, angry that you couldn’t hide your emotion. “Danny’s been begging me to talk to you for weeks, but I guess I was scared, too.” It clicked in your brain, suddenly making sense why he was so excited when you told him you thought Sam was cute.

“Doesn’t matter,” You told him “We know now.” He nodded, agreeing silently. “Did you want to go back to my room, maybe?” You realized your statement was a bit forward only after you’d said it, but you didn’t really care. You were too caught up in the moment to worry about moving too fast, or any what-if’s. Your small amount of worry was subsided when he immediately stood, holding his hand out to you. You took it, letting him help you stand.

Both of you made quick work at cleaning up the mess you made, buzzing with excitement at the idea of being alone together. Within a few minutes, you had his hand in yours, and you were guiding him back through the unfamiliar building. You checked the main floor before you emerged, making sure there was no security checking out the place. You knew they could be assholes, and almost always asked for an access pass. When you deducted the coast was clear, you pulled him through the lobby and out the front door. You were both in a fit of giggles by the time you reached the dorm building, fumbling with keycards to let yourselves in. The hallways were barren, almost all of the students already gone for their spring trips. It made your journey all the faster, allowing you to make it to your room in record time without any interruption.

You opened the door for him, motioning got him to go inside first. He did so, eyes immediately taking in the sight. He’d caught glimpses of your room, but never got the chance to really see it. There was artwork plastered over the walls, some yours and some from your friends, or even reprints of famous artists. There were ambient lights bordering the ceilings, set to a constant colour. There were paintbrushes and textbooks littering your desk, along with a few empty coffee cups. There were a plethora of Polaroids hung on your bulletin board, a receipt book of memories from the lifetime he wanted to so badly know about. The smell of your perfume lingered in the air and your bed, although messy, looked extraordinarily inviting.

You gave him a small smile, nervous about what he was thinking. “I love it in here.” He said, almost like he could read your mind. You let out a small sigh of relief. His eyes drifted towards the small clay sculptures you’d been messing around with. He leaned closer, smiling at the intricate detail.

“You should come over more often, then.” You smiled.

“I think you’re gonna have a hard time getting rid of me, now.” He laughed. The sound was more beautiful than any you’d heard before.

“Fine by me.” You admitted. “I’m gonna change out of these. Just give me a minute.” He nodded, watching you as you picked some clothes from your closet. You brought them to the bathroom, changing into the shorts and t-shirt. You looked at yourself in the mirror, nearly wincing at the sight. You quickly fixed your makeup with your fingers and brushed your teeth. You sprayed a bit more perfume on the new clothes, and rejoined him. He was still standing awkwardly by your desk, unsure of where to sit. “You can sit on the bed.” You smiled, finding the timidity cute.

“Oh, okay.” He said, looking towards the mattress and sitting down.

“Did you want to watch a movie?” You asked.

“Sure.” He grinned. You went to your laptop, quickly logging in and pulling up Netflix. “I don’t care what we watch.” He admitted. You put on one of the first recommended movies, turning the volume up slightly. You climbed into bed next to him, propping a pillow against the wall and leaning back. He did the same, settling next to you, much closer than anyone else would normally sit.

The intro credits rolled for the movie, giving you a moment to relax from the close proximity. You leaned into him slightly, but not enough to make it obvious. You pulled your comforter over your legs, snuggling into the warmth. You let your hand rest on top of the blanket as you eyed his sitting in his lap. You’d been on dates, but not once since you moved away from your hometown had you felt so adolescent in romance. It felt like you were going through the motions for the first time, completely blind in knowledge. You had no idea how to approach him, how to initiate any of the intimacy you’d been yearning for. You hadn’t noticed you were staring at him, but he certainly did. He looked over to you, giving you a small, soft smile. In response, it made your heart skip a beat.

He took the opportunity to reach over and slip his hand into yours, giving it a gentle, reassuring squeeze. The contact immediately subsided your anxiety, and you finally felt the ability to focus on the screen. After a few moments, you even found the courage to rest your head on his shoulder. The both of you watched the movie in silence, his thumb rubbing small circles over the back of your hand while you did so. As the film progressed, so did your comfortability. By the middle of it, you both had shifted dramatically. He was laying down, and you were resting atop of him, head nestled in his chest. His palm was firmly planted on your lower back, and his other gently tracing shapes into your arm. If you weren’t so energized from being so close to him, you were certain you could fall asleep in that position.

His hand that was on your arm moved to your face, fingers gently pushing your hair away. You closed your eyes, revelling in the feeling. He gently combed through the knots before settling his hand back on your cheek. He guided you to look up at him, sending a smile your way. You returned it, thinking that you would be fine if his face was the only one you could ever see again. “Thanks for inviting me over.” He said, admiring every feature. He knew that you were beautiful from every time he’d seen you before that night, but he realized that he’d been missing out on the best part. Having you laying with him, sleepiness laced in your eyes, made him realize that there was never a time where you were more beautiful. The innocent intimacy was overwhelming in the best possible way, leaving him to believe he could die happy as long as he got to hold you.

“It’s crazy, you know.” You sighed, propping yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at him.

“Hmm?” He replied, fingers dancing in the ends of your hair.

“I spent so long with this stupid little crush. I think because of it, I kind of put you on a pedestal. I forgot you were a person, too. I never believed that I could ever be with you like this. It always felt impossible.”

“I did the same thing.” He admitted, feeling better about it knowing you felt that way, too. “It’s weird. Dating in college is so much different than high school.” He chuckled. You nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

“It feels more… adult. In high school, I had to ask my parents permission to go on a date. Now, I can just invite you over whenever I want.” You thought aloud. “But I don’t feel any different. I still feel the same as I did a year ago.”

“Yeah,” he breathed. “It’s strange, knowing that we’re supposed to be adults, now. Especially when I still feel like a kid.”

“I think it’s a good buffer period,” you shrugged. “Pretend to be adults, get the experience, but still be able to make mistakes and learn from them. We get to practice living alone and being responsible, but still get to do stupid shit.” He laughed at your comment, but understood your point.

“I like you, Picasso.” He said, his hand landing on the back of your neck. You smiled at the words.

“I like you, too.” You admitted, eyes trailing over his face in admiration.

“I think it would be cool if we could do stupid shit and learn from our mistakes… together.” He mumbled, gaze focused only on you.

“What are you saying, Billy Joel?” You smirked as he rolled his eyes at the nickname.

“I’m saying,” he paused, eyes flickering down to your lips for a moment. “I would like to do this…. more often.” He articulated his words carefully, a bit nervous to say them.

“I think that would be quite alright.” You deducted. He visibly relaxed at your confirmation. “I… uh, I’m not good at this stuff.” You admitted.

“That’s okay.” He said, tangling his fingers in the hair at the base of your skull. He gently massaged his fingers over your scalp, causing a slight hum of pleasure from you. “That’s part of the making mistakes and learning from them, right?”

“Yeah,” you whispered, entranced in the feeling of him touching you. “I’ve never really had a boyfriend, or anything like that. Been on a few dates, but they ended pretty terribly.” You admitted. He cocked his head to the side, studying you as you spoke. “Like I said before, all of the boys from my hometown are all the same. I learned my lesson, and I realized nothing meaningful would ever come from it, so I just… didn’t.”

“You can talk about it, if you want.” He offered.

“There’s really not much to talk about.” You told him, remembering back to your high school years. “I don’t know if it was just the type of people that lived in the town, or if it was a teenage boy thing, but they just cared about getting laid and nothing more. It was unbearable, and I fell for it a few times, but nobody ever cared about me past the surface. I’ve never met a boy who wanted to know me like you do, or would even admit that they liked me out loud, for that matter. Nobody has ever asked me questions about myself, or my art. It was nice being seen as a person rather than a body.” You muttered the last part, hating saying it aloud.

“They have no idea what they missed out on, then.” He said, bringing you closer and placing a kiss on your forehead. “I’ve only known you, well, really known you, for a day. I already know that I’d be more than lucky to have a chance with you.” Your cheeks turned red, luckily covered by the darkness of the room this time. “They didn’t deserve you. Nobody should make you feel like you can only be loved in privacy. You’re worth more than that.” Your eyes fluttered up to meet his as your brain wondered if the interaction was real, or a grandly fabricated dream. You leaned forward, unable to satiate the need to kiss him again.

He accepted the gesture enthusiastically, using his hands to pull you impossibly closer. You brought your hand to his face, cupping his cheek. After a moment, you couldn’t help but want more. You shifted, trying your best not to break the kiss, placing both of your legs on either side of him. He broke away for a second, just long enough to prop himself up against the wall so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable. He wasted no time, capturing you in another kiss. His hands found your hips, fingers holding you firmly but delicately all at once. You snaked your hand to the back of his neck, holding him like you were scared he would get away from you. When you pulled back, you were both breathless with stars dancing in your eyes.

“We don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to.” He said quickly, mind still occupied with the thought of kissing you. “I’m okay if we just lay here and talk.”

“I want to if you do.” You assured him, finally feeling the months of tension reach the breaking point.

“Are you sure?” He asked, searching your face for an honest answer.

“Positive.” You promised, making sure he saw you were being genuine. “I just… I’ve never…yeah.” You trailed off, suddenly a bit embarrassed. He watched you, trying to piece together what you were saying. “I’ve never had sex.” You blurted out, realizing he wasn’t fully understanding you. “I mean, I’ve done some stuff, but never…” you breathed, your face burning for a whole new reason.

“Hey, it’s okay.” He reached his hand to your face, keeping your head straight so you would look at him. You were a virgin in all technical terms, only having awkward sexual experiences and moments with failed flings in high school. It wasn’t a virtue thing, more of a feeling of never finding the right person. With him, you felt comfortable, and were certain that it would be enjoyable. You didn’t have to have experience to assume that. You could tell just by looking at him, by how he spoke to you. He cared about your comfortability, and that was a major green flag. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His tone was firm.

“No, I want to.” You said quickly, making sure he knew. “I just… I want you to have a good time, and I’m just nervous, I think. I don’t want to… disappoint.” He let out a chuckle, shaking his head at the blasphemous idea.

“Yeah, that’s not even a possibility.” He shut the fear down almost as soon as it sprouted. “I’m gonna have a good time because I’m with you.” He promised. “I don’t expect anything, or anything like that. I’m more concerned with you having a good time.” He said, bringing your face down to place a soft kiss on your lips. “We’ll take it slow, okay? Make sure you enjoy yourself.” He mumbled, his mouth only millimetres away from your own. “That sound okay?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, giving a small nod. You could feel his smile from as he kissed you again.

“You can tell me to stop, or slow down, or whatever you need at any point, okay?” He explained when he pulled back. You nodded. “You can tell me what you like, too. Don’t be shy.” You nodded again. “I need to hear the words, baby.”

“Okay.” You verbally confirmed. He tapped your thigh, silently letting you know he wanted you to get up. You did so, allowing him to move over to the side.

“Lay down for me,” he said, his tone had authority but it was incredibly soft, not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable. You laid back, eyes locked on his face. You were still anxious, but he was easing it more by the second. He turned onto his side to face you, guiding your face to his once more and connecting your mouths. You kissed him back with more neediness than before, excited by the idea of his hands on you. He slipped his fingers under the hem of your shirt, letting them dance over your skin so you could grow accustom to the feeling.

As he became familiar with the feeling of your body, he took his chance to deepen the kiss. You couldn’t help but let a few small moans of delight out, only fuelling him further. He went slow, working you up to speed. He didn’t want to rush you, or push you too far. He let you take the lead with progressing any further, waiting until you made a move to take an article of clothing away. When you tugged at the hem of his shirt, he moved back from you so he could pull it over his head. You let your eyes fall over his exposed torso, feeling your stomach flutter at the sight. He smiled at your expression, but didn’t say a word in fear of you feeling embarrassed. He made a move towards your waistband, watching your eyes intently as he did so. You gave him a nod of encouragement, letting him know you were okay. He hooked his fingers through the sides and slowly pulled the shorts from your body. You sat up and removed your shirt, too.

His breath caught in his throat at the sight of you in just your undergarments, having to do for a moment just to appreciate the view. “Gorgeous,” he hummed, lowering his head to you once more. He left a trail of gentle kisses across you collarbones, letting his hands trail over your exposed thighs. The minuscule touches were driving you crazy; you had no idea it could feel so good to be admired by someone. His lips moved downward, skipping over your chest and landing on your sternum. He started to get sloppier the further he progressed downwards. By the time he reached your navel, you were practically a mess. He looked up at you, eyelids heavy, taking in every detail of you. The way your chest rose and fell while you breathed, the way your lips stayed slightly parted, the way your hand felt tangled in his hair. It was driving him crazy.

He moved up again, motioning for you to lift your back from the bed. You did as he wanted, allowing him to snake his arms around you and unclasp your bra. He pulled it from your body, discarding it carelessly on the floor. He sucked a sharp breath through his teeth when he finally saw the full view. He was nestled between your legs, one hand planted beside you on the mattress, holding him up upright. His other hand returned to you, resting on your rib cage as light as a feather. He looked to you for permission before doing anything else. “I’m okay, I promise. I’ll tell you if I’m not.” You appreciated his consideration, but you were beginning to feel a bit desperate for more. He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand to your breast and brushed his thumb lightly over your hardened nipple.

The feeling was new, but very welcomed. The small touch sent a jolt of emotion through you. You watched him intently, anticipating his next movement. He brought his mouth to your nipple and pulled it into his mouth. You let out a shaky exhale at the sensation. He flicked his tongue over it a few times, really becoming familiar with you. When he pulled away, you couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed at the loss of contact. He smiled at your sigh of discontent. “Feel good?” He hummed.

“Yeah,” you breathed. He sat upright on his knees, bringing both of his hands to your hips and hooking his fingers through your underwear. You bit the inside of your lip, enthusiastic but still a bit nervous. You lifted your hips from the bed, allowing him to pull them off with ease. He tossed them to the floor, not caring where they landed. He was only concerned with you, now fully naked and laying beneath him. He caught sight of your face, noticing that your eyes were looking away from him.

“Hey,” he whispered. You finally found the courage to look up at him. “You okay, beautiful?” You were glad he disregarded your earlier statement, finding it much easier to communicate with him if he initiated it.

“Yeah, just nervous. It’s nothing you’re doing.” You promised.

“You want to stop?” You shook your head, unable to think of a worse idea. He didn’t immediately jump back to action at the expression, but spoke again after a few moments. “We’ll go slow, okay? This is for you. I wanna give you a good time.” You felt a smile growing on your lips at his words.

“Okay,” you affirmed. He leaned down, placing a soft kiss on your lips. You felt like you could live in that moment forever.

“Don’t have to be shy, or nervous. Promise I’m gonna take care of you.” He said as he pulled away. “Just tell me to stop, or slow down if you need to. You’re in charge.” You managed another nod as he sunk back between your legs. He laid on his stomach, head inches from your heat. You felt the anxiety lingering, but it was rapidly overtaken by excitement. He placed a few kisses on the inside of your thighs, one arm snaked under one of your legs and gently caressing the outside of your thigh. He brought his free hand to your cunt, fingers ghosting over the area. He looked up to you as if to ask permission. You gave him another nod, assuring him it was okay.

He slowly advanced, wanting to give you ample time to change your mind if you needed to. When you stayed quiet, eyes watching him with anticipation, he took it as a good sign. He ran his fingers through your folds, letting you get used to the feeling before doing anything else. You bit into the inside of your lip, trying to wrap your head around the unfamiliar sensation. It was definitely different when someone else was touching you, you noted. He gathered some of your arousal on his fingers. He spread the wetness to your clit, bringing his thumb to the sensitive area and slowly rubbing light circles into it. Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling taking you by surprise. His eyes flickered to your face, feeling a bit of satisfaction at the sound. You looked down at him, meeting his gaze and feeling a different type of pleasure at the sight.

“How’s that?” His voice was quiet, barely noticeable if not for your intent focus on his every action. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, less enthralled in the movement of his hands than you were at the look on his face. He had a small smile playing on his lips, but the admiration for you he held in his eyes was worth more than words. He didn’t speak again, but kept his focus on the pattern of his thumb. He applied a bit more pressure, watching your face for a reaction. You let in a sharp intake of breath, feeling the sensation change from unfamiliar to pleasurable. His jaw clenched slightly, the sound running straight through him and settling in his bones. It was small, barely there, but it was blissful to his ears.

He worked at you for a few moments, gentle and loving with every move. It felt good, the nervousness almost completely gone, but there was enough there for you to hold yourself back. Your noises were limited, mostly from fear of embarrassment. You were so caught up in the worry of looking dumb that you were almost overlooking the scene before you. It didn’t deter him, though. If anything, it only drove him further. He was aching too hear the beautiful sounds begging to be let out, and he’d be damned if he couldn’t get them out of you. You watched him closely, not wanting to miss a moment of his presence. He leaned forward, letting a line of spit fall from his lips onto his fingers. You swallowed hard, the small action sending a rush of pleasure through you.

He ran his fingers through your cunt again, making sure the lubrication didn’t go to waste. His middle finger slowed and eventually stopped just before your entrance. “Tell me if you’re uncomfortable, okay?” He asked, but his tone was more of a demand. You nodded, too caught up in the idea of his fingers almost inside of you to worry about anything else. After a second, he slowly sunk his finger into you, studying you for any sign of discomfort. When you went without protest, he fully pushed his finger in, letting his thumb fall back on your clit. He continued his circles, now adding the stimulation of pumping his finger into you. You let a breathy moan out, unable to hold it back anymore. “That’s it baby,” he practically groaned, ecstatic to hear the noise. “You’re doing s’good.” The praise, although unexpected, was very well received. Knowing that he was enjoying himself solely by pleasuring you was a fantastic feeling. Knowing that he was only concerned with you feeling good was enough to satiate the anxiety.

He continued his pace for a while, eventually adding another finger when you felt you were ready. You were a mess, caught up in the pleasure but worried, too, because you hadn’t felt the creep of an impending orgasm. His hand was steady, never wavering, and his eyes were locked on you. Every so often, he pressed his lips into the skin on your thighs or your hipbones, just as a small act of affection. “Sam, I-I don’t know if I’m gonna cum.” You admitted, voice shaky and a bit defeated.

“You will,” he promised, unfazed by the statement. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I just…” you let out a sigh, frustrated with yourself. “It’s not you, it’s me.” He pulled back, halting his movements.

“I can stop if that’s what you want, baby.” His words were coated with sincerity. “Or are you just worried you can’t cum?” He inquired.

“I don’t want you to stop, I’m having a good time. I just don’t know if I can.” You explained, feeling embarrassment settle in your chest.

“I’ve got all night.” He said, shrugging off the worry. “Can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing.” He gave you a smile.

“I want you to have a good time, too, though.”

“Oh, I am.” His tone changed from gentle to firm. “Don’t worry about that.” You watched him with uncertainty, but the look in his eye was nothing but affirmative of his statement. “Don’t worry about anything. Just lay there and focus on how it feels, okay?” You nodded. “No worries about if you’re gonna cum or not, no worrying about me having a good time, just relax and enjoy the feeling. If you don’t cum, we’ll try again next time.” Your heard sped at the realization that he was planning on this being more than a one-time thing. It was comforting, knowing that he was learning about you so intimately, but wasn’t planning on running. He didn’t want to get your clothes off and never speak to you again like the majority of boys you’d ever known.

“Y-yeah, okay.” You replied. He cocked his head to the side, wondering why the hesitation was so present. “You, uh… next time?” He couldn’t help but grin at your question.

“I mean, yeah, if you want that, of course.”

“Yeah, I do.” You rushed out, hoping you hadn’t made him feel otherwise.

“Then it’s settled.” He hummed. “Not just the sex part, though. The dinner and the hanging out was great, and I’d very much like to do that, too.” You let out a small giggle at his words, finding the explanation cute.

“Me, too.” You assured him.

“Breakfast tomorrow?” He asked, a smirk on the corner of his lips. He started to move his fingers again, taking you by surprise. You let out a gasp at the suddenness, immediately feeling the pleasure return.

“S-sure,” you breathed, giving him a nod. He decided to stop messing with you, wanting to ensure you were as comfortable as you could be. He worked himself back up to his earlier pace, making it nearly impossible for you to think of anything else. He let another trail of spit fall onto his fingers, making sure it wasn’t too dry for you.

After a few moments, you did start to feel a little less insecure. His eyes were watching you, studying every minute detail. He noticed the rise and fall of your chest speed as he continued pumping his fingers in and out of you, the way you occasionally pulled your bottom lip between your teeth in attempt to silence yourself. He watched how your eyebrows furrowed slightly when he brushed over your clit just right, and how your eyes stayed almost permanently shut. He thought you were the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen. Eventually, a blissful moan slipped from your mouth as his fingers hit the perfect spot. His eyes rolled back slightly, soaking up the sound. “That’s it, baby.” He encouraged you, fingers never stopping.

The words of motivation helped ease your tension. Your stiffness dissipated, your shoulders relaxing back on the pillows a bit. Your neck let your head fall back, leaving you completely at ease for the time being. A few more short-lived moans fell from your lips, all hitting him with a stronger force each time. “Doing so good, princess.” He said, noticing the effect his words had on you last time. “Cum for me, baby. You can do it.” He whispered. The demand went straight to your core, and you started to feel a sensation grow in the pit of your stomach. It was a feeling you’d only ever given yourself; it was way more intense when produced by another person.

“Fuck, Sam.” You whimpered, a gentle warning that you were getting closer. His heart drummed against his chest, clearly excited at the obscene proclamation. He took a risk, removing his thumb from your clit and lowering his head until his lips were touching you. You didn’t realize what he was doing until his tongue darted over the sensitive nerves, causing an involuntarily buck of your hips. He used his hand that was hooked under your leg to hold you down on the mattress.

Your fear of not being able to cum was quickly diminished with the new, even more unfamiliar feeling. It was heavenly. You let a low groan out, feeling the knot in your belly tighten. You slipped your hand down and tangling your fingers in the roots of his hair. He pulled his mouth off you only for a second, just to get one more praise in. “Taste so good, princess.” He said, slipping his thumb back in place of his mouth. You could only whimper in response, already missing the feeling of his tongue. “That’s it, baby. Look at you,” he whispered the last part more to himself than anything else. He only let his eyes hover over your expression for a moment longer, returning his tongue to you.

It didn’t take long to get to where he wanted you to be. Within a few minutes, you were gripping at his hair, panting and moaning, your orgasm begging you to let go. His tongue was moving at a steady pace, and his fingers curled with every re-entry, hitting a spot inside you that nothing ever had before. You let your head fall back, feeling the pressure reach its peak. A wave of pleasure overtook you, setting every nerve in your body on fire. You managed his name through the slur of moans, clenching around his fingers as you came. He only tapered his speed when the intensity began to die down. He removed his mouth first, then slowly pulled his fingers from you. His eyes flickered towards your face, lust clouding his eyes as he did so.

He slowly moved upwards, placing a few kisses over your collarbones and up onto your neck. You finally found the strength to open your eyes and look to him. He caught your gaze and gave you a dopey smile, eyelids heavy and your arousal glistening on his lips. “That’s my beautiful girl,” he hummed, wiping his chin with the back of his hand before leaning in for a kiss. “I’m so proud of you.” He whispered as he parted from you. He placed another kiss on your lips, sweet and full of emotion. The anxiety that had been plaguing you on and off was now gone, replaced solely by a desire for him that you’d never felt for another person before. “Did that feel good?”

“So good, Sammy.” You said, your lips still ghosting over his. You could feel his erection straining against his sweatpants, pressing into your leg.

“My name sounds so good when you say it like that.” He sighed, one hand roaming your exposed torso. His touch was light, tickling the sensitive skin over your rib cage as he did so.

“Thank you,” you whispered, resting your cheek against his, basking in the affection.

“Don’t have to thank me, princess.” He replied. “If anything, I should be thanking you.” You let out a small laugh at his words, finding his gratefulness charming. You reached up and cupped his cheek in your hand, lifting your head to pull him into another kiss. He was hesitant to let you go when you pulled away.

“Do you wanna…?” You trailed off, feeling a bit too embarrassed to finish the sentence.

“Do you?” He asked.

“Yeah,” you breathed, never more sure of yourself in your whole life. He gave you a smile, making a move to stand. He undid the drawstring on his pants, then pulled them down, ridding himself of them and leaving himself clad in only his boxers. You couldn’t help but stare at him, eyes wandering but eventually settling on the bulge barely contained by the fabric. He noticed your stare, a smirk making its way back onto his lips.

“Condoms?” He asked, catching your attention. Your eyes widened, realizing that you didn’t have any.

“Oh, I uh- I didn’t really expect… I don’t..”

“That’s okay,” he chuckled. “I have some in my room. I can go get them.” You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, realizing that he’d been keeping them for a reason. You pushed the thought away, not wanting to focus on the idea of him being with someone else. He was here with you, and that’s what mattered.

“I, uh, I am on birth control, if you’re clean.” You squeaked, slightly embarrassed at the statement.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” He said, his tone firm.

“Yeah, I am.” You assured him. “Like I said, as long as you’re clean.” You repeated the earlier comment, just wanting to be sure.

“I am,” he promised. “It’s been a long time since… yeah.” He let out a small laugh. You couldn’t help but feel better knowing he hadn’t been sleeping around, either.

“Then yeah, I’m okay with it.” He gave a nod, making a move to take off his boxers. You watched in admiration, excited to finally see him the same as he was seeing you. He kicked the fabric with the rest of the growing pile of clothes. He stepped back towards the bed, noticing your eyes never leaving him. “You’re… very pretty.” You whispered, unable to find any better words to describe him.

“I think you’re very pretty, too.” He smiled, nestling back between your legs as he grabbed a pillow from beside you. “Lift your hips up, princess.” You did as he said and he slipped the cushion underneath you. “Should make it a bit more comfortable.”

He guided your legs up slightly, not enough to bend you in an awkward position, but enough to make it easier for both of you. “Will it hurt?” You finally blurted out, the question begging to be spoken all night.

“May be a bit uncomfortable at first, but I’m gonna try my best to make sure it doesn’t.” He said, catching your gaze. “We can take it as slow as you want. If you want me to stop, just tell me.”

“Okay.” You replied, voice quiet. You were nervous, but very aware that you were in good hands. It was his only intention to make sure you enjoyed yourself. You watched as he spit on his hand, rubbing himself for a moment.

“You okay?” He asked, wanting to be sure.

“Yeah.”

“Don’t be scared to talk to me, baby.” He reminded. You nodded, eyes only focused on his hand that was he was stroking himself with. He moved a bit closer, letting the tip of his dick rest against your entrance. He let you get used to the feeling before going any further. “You tell me when you’re ready.”

“I am.” You weren’t lying; the anxiety and nervousness was fully expected, but you were more than ready to have sex with him. You were sure of that before you’d even spoken with him, and it was only solidified further when you saw how accommodating he was being with you. He waited for any hesitation, but when none was given, he slowly pushed his hips forward.

You closed your eyes, trying your best to stay relaxed. He only pushed in a few inches, wanting you to adjust before continuing. “That okay?” He asked. You nodded, reaching out for his hand. He took his own from your leg and accepted the offer, intertwining his fingers with yours. He thrusted forward a bit more, studying your expression for a hint of discomfort. When he bottomed out, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“Not as bad as I thought it would be.” You noted. He laughed quietly, happy you thought so.

“You’re doing so good.” He whispered. “You feel so good.” His words sent a jolt of arousal through you, enjoying the praise more than you imagined you would. He slowly built up a pace, moving his hips with caution. Once you’d fully realized the sensation was less than uncomfortable, you relaxed against him. After a few more moments, you began to enjoy the feeling.

“You can go faster,” you sighed, a ghost of a moan in your words. He was hesitant to do so, but he gradually sped his thrusts, admiring your expression. When he clued in to the fact you were enjoying yourself, he couldn’t help but let a groan escape his lips. Your eyes snapped to his face, thinking that was the most beautiful sound you’d ever heard. His pleasure ridden expression was enough to induce an orgasm on its own, you deducted.

He reached his hand between your legs, letting his thumb find your clit again. He continued his pace, now applying light pressure onto the sensitive bundle of nerves as he circled his thumb. The combined sensations caused a moan from you. Your fingers tightened against his hand, a silent expression of pleasure. “Fuck, Sam.” You sighed, letting your head fall back onto the pillows.

“Look so pretty like this, baby.” He mumbled, trying to keep the speed of his hips and his hand the same. The pet names were unexpected, but you loved hearing them come from his mouth, especially when they sounded like that. “Wish I could have you like this forever.” He sighed, losing himself to the feeling a bit. It didn’t take long for another knot to form in your belly. With the consistency of his movements, it was much easier to get there than it was the first time. Sam noticed the slight change in your demeanour, the increase in the noises you were making. He focused on your face, wanting to watch you this time, feeling a bit cheated out of the moment the first time. “You think you can cum again, princess?” He asked, eyes burning into you.

“Y-yeah,” you stuttered, looking up at him. “Feels so good, Sammy.”

“Come on, baby.” He sounded as if he were begging you. “Doing so good for me.” With his encouragement, you felt your orgasm creep up again. You tried your best to keep your eyes on him, wanting to appreciate him as much as possible. He sped his thumb slightly, causing your breath to catch in your throat. His gaze never wavered, an unspoken plea for you to let go. It only took a moment before you came the second time. Your head fell back again, eyes screwed shut and mouth permanently agape. His jaw was clenched, holding himself back from his own release at the sound of you crying his name. “That’s it,” he moaned, wishing he could engrave the picture in his mind forever. As much as he wanted to cum, too, he was hoping to get one more out of you before the night came to an end.

The pressure from his thumb lightened, but his thrusts sped. You didn’t have time to recover, unlike the first time. The sensitivity was overtaken by the pleasure of him inside you, making it the only thing you could focus on. You looked back at him, realizing your mistake as soon as you did. He was still staring at you, eyes now a bit feral. The muscles in his jaw were taut, and he was quite unfamiliar to you, now. Although different, not in a bad way. It was intense, but far from menacing. You were captivated in the details of his stare, finding yourself unable to look away. He was breathtaking, and you couldn’t believe you were lucky enough to have him in such a way. You couldn’t believe that you had the power to drive him to such a feeling.

“You can give me one more, baby, I know you can.” His motivation was clouded with a bit of dominance, giving you the impression that he wouldn’t be pleased with himself if he couldn’t give you another orgasm.

“I don’t know, Sammy.” You groaned, unsure of yourself but still fully immersed in the feeling of him inside you.

“You can, princess. You can do it.” His chest was heaving with every breath, partially due to his movement, but more to do with desire. There was a glisten of sweat on his forehead, illuminated by the dim light flooding through the window. You didn’t think you’d be able to cum for the first time, let alone a second, or a third. The only anxiety you had left in your body was one fearing you’d leave him disappointed. Rationally, you knew he’d be content with whatever happened, but the louder part of your brain craved to give him exactly what he wanted. It wasn’t out of fear, but solely because you wanted to. From the minute he’d given you that first stupid smile all those months ago, you knew you wanted to be exactly where you were at that moment, and you’d be damned if you didn’t give it your all.

His patience and gentleness with you the whole night was endearing, but for you, the novelty of it being your first time had worn off, and the months of sexual tension was reaching its peak. You were both completely starved for each other in the best way possible, neither of you wanting to disappoint. Sam kept his pace steady, his thumb pressing into your clit again. To both of you, the idea of another orgasm not being reached was out of the question. “I can, but you have to cum with me.” You begged.

“That’s what I like to hear,” he grunted, letting out a long exhale. He knew that wouldn’t be an issue, he’d been holding himself back from the minute you’d started fucking. He rationed with himself as another string of moans left your lips, forcing himself to believe that waiting would be far more satisfactory than finishing before you. “Cum for me, angel.” The new term of endearment was unlike the others; this one hit you violently, such a graceful term for such a filthy display. You let out a cry of pleasure, your third climax hitting you without warning. It washed over you with necessity, as if you needed it to survive. He finally let go of your hand, fingers finding your hips to hold you on him as he came, too.

The room echoed with sounds of pleasure and obscene words, the essence of the moment settling into the walls and solidifying its place. The memory would never leave, and you wouldn’t want it any other way. He let out a sigh, finally losing his composure and resting gently atop of you. He placed tender kisses along your collarbones, small gestures of affection and appreciation to let you know he still meant everything he said to you. After you both came back to reality, he slowly withdrew from you. He tried to keep the mess minimal as he did so, wanting to keep the cleanup simple so he had more time to hold you before the night was through. “You should go pee, don’t want you to get a UTI.” He mumbled. You managed a nod, sleep calling to you like never before. Your mind and body were beyond exhausted, unable to keep up with the whirlwind of events.

He helped you up and to the bathroom, leaving you to your business. You cleaned yourself up and removed what was left of your makeup before returning to him. He gave you a dopey smile and a kiss on the head before going to do the same. You took a seat on the bed, mind still buzzing with excitement at the thought of what happened. When he came back out, he pulled his boxers back on and picked up his t-shirt from the ground. He handed it to you, almost nervous of rejection. You took the piece of clothing and slipped it over your head, more than happy to be wearing his clothes. “Did… did you maybe want to stay with me tonight?” You asked, nervous he’d say no. He took a seat beside you, pulling you into his arms and laying you both down on the mattress.

“Was hoping you’d ask.” He mumbled, pulling your back to his chest. He nuzzled his head into your neck, not caring about the tickle of your hair on his face.

“Thank you,” you finally said after a few long moments of silence.

“What are you thanking me for?”

“I don’t know,” you laughed. “That was… fantastic. You were fantastic.”

“I’m just happy you had a good time. That’s all I wanted.” He hummed, hand snaking under your shirt to rest on your stomach.

“I really did. I.. uh, wanted to do that for a while.” You said, rolling your eyes at your own awkwardness.

“Oh, yeah, me too.” He said, as if it were obvious. “All year I felt like I was in middle school again, crushing on the prettiest girl who didn’t know I existed.”

“I knew you existed.” You whispered, calmed at the knowledge you’d both been feeling the same way. “I thought the same about you.”

“Seems like we were both a bit dumb, then, Picasso.” You could hear his smile in his words.

“Guess so, piano man.” You both fell into a silence again, but like all the other ones, it was nothing short of comfortable. You felt yourself melt into his touch, sleep begging you to close your eyes.

“You’re okay, though? You’re not sore, or anything? You’d tell me if you were, right?”

“Yeah, I am, Sammy. Promise.” You reassured him. He’d done an excellent job at taking care of you and ensuring you were comfortable. It was the best possible scenario you could have imagined for your first time.

“That’s good, I just want to make sure.” He whispered. You settled into the mattress, prepared to go to bed. “So, if we’re talking experience wise, like a three star review?” He broke the quiet once more, causing both of you to fall into a fit of laughter.

“Mmm, I was thinking more of a five star, actually.” You pretended to ponder.

“Don’t stroke my ego, Picasso.” He dismissed the compliment.

“Maybe we’ll have to try it again sometime, then I can give a proper review.” You moved your hand under your shirt, too, resting it on top of his. He laced your fingers together, more than accepting of the contact.

“I think that would be quite alright.” He placed a kiss to your neck, just below your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. “So it was good enough to make you want to do it again,” he noted. “I’ll have to put that one on my resume.” You laughed, shaking your head at his antics.

“Goodnight, piano man.” You said, finality in your voice. He propped himself up, trying his best to lean over you for another kiss. You turned your head back to meet his lips, much more confident in the action, now.

“Goodnight, Picasso.” He settled back in behind you, closing his eyes, too. “I can’t wait to take you to breakfast in the morning.” No more words were exchanged, but you both fell into a slumber with a permanent smile stuck on your lips.

[trenchcoatimpala]

Cobblestone Love

Hello, everyone! I have just dropped my new fic Cobblestone Love on ao3! Updates will be every Tuesday!

Castiel Novak was raised with only one purpose: to be King. With an arranged marriage between himself and Princess Megan Masters of a neighboring kingdom approaching, he finds himself wanting to spend a night in town, enjoying his freedom before his royal duties catch up to him. Dean Winchester works his farm by day and Ellen's tavern by night trying to make ends meet so he can put his brother, Sam, through medical school. When a mysterious stranger with dark hair and blue eyes, claiming to be a knight for the King, sits down at the bar, Dean's life is forever altered.

You can read a teaser below:

A man plopped down beside Castiel with a nasty leer on his face. “So you’re rich, pretty boy?”

Castiel met the man's gaze, he saw nothing but dishonesty there. “My wealth is of no concern to you.” 

“It is when you come parading in here with gold coins fit for the King. I reckon you could spare a few more coins for some poor folk like me.” 

Castiel let his expression harden. “And I reckon you think you can take it from me if I don’t give it willingly.” 

The man grinned at him, revealing a few missing teeth. “You reckon right.” 

A moment later a pair of hands was on the lapels of his shirt and he was being pulled to his feet. 

“You stop that this instant!” the barkeep woman shouted. “Put him down!” 

“If he can spare you some change then he’s got to have more where that came from. I’m just going to shake him down, see how much more coin he’s got.” Castiel found that amusing, especially since the man threatening him was a great deal shorter than Castiel himself. 

“That would be a horrible mistake on your part,” Castiel said. 

Castiel had been trained to fight by highly respected knights, he could hold his own in a battle and he was very good with a sword. It was a pity he didn’t bring his sword with him, but he’d opted not to as it would have been a dead give away that he was from royal descent. He would have to win the fight by his own fists instead. 

As he was gearing up to get free of the man's grip and send him to the ground, the man was suddenly being ripped away from him. A whiskey rough voice spoke in anger and mockery as Castiel tried to get his wits about him again. 

“You really don’t want to do that, Marv. How many times do I have to kick you out of this bar!” 

Castiel watched as Marv was shoved roughly through the door by a tall man with light brown hair and an impressive set of bow legs. When he turned around again, Castiel felt his breath steal itself away from him. The man was gorgeous, there was no other word for it. His face was dotted with a fair few freckles and his jawline was sharp and decorated with the thinnest layer of scruff. He was dressed in high riding boots with a tan tunic that was tucked into his brown leather pants. He wore a matching leather vest over his tunic and his sleeves were rolled up to the elbow. This man clearly worked with his hands a lot and by the muscles in his arms and back he looked like he was good at it. 

“I’m so sorry about him,” the man said, and there was that perfect voice again. 

“It’s no trouble,” Castiel found himself replying, it was a wonder he’d been able to recover his voice. 

The man extended his hand. “I’m Dean.”

Castiel took it. Calluses brushed against his skin as his palm slid into Dean’s. It was a warm handshake, he found himself rather enjoying the touch. “I’m-” he paused, he shouldn’t say his name. The purpose of his trip outside of castle walls was to go unrecognized and mingle with the common folk to experience their way of living, so that once he took the throne he’d know how best to help them. No, it was best he didn’t reveal who he was, besides, he was never fond of how once anybody learned his identity they felt the need to drop to their knees and genuflect in the name of the crown. It was rather unsettling and it made Castiel uncomfortable to be the receiver of such respect. “James,” he decided to say. It was his middle name and a common enough name to get him through this moment. “But everyone calls me Jimmy.” 

“Well, Jimmy,” Dean said with a smile, “I hope you’ll enjoy the rest of your evening. If Ellen or I can get you anything just say the word.” 

Ellen, Castiel took it, was the woman behind the bar. “Thank you very much, Dean.” 

Dean’s cheeks pinked slightly in the lantern light. “Don’t mention it.”

Up close, Castiel could see that Dean’s eyes were the most emerald of green, and he could almost picture himself getting lost in those eyes and never having to worry about leading a kingdom or marrying a girl he was not in love with, nor could he ever be. Alas, his daydreams were for naught, and after tonight he was to return to the castle and take his rightful place as King. 

He sipped slowly at his mead and let himself slip away into the hum of people around him. He wasn’t eavesdropping, per se, but he couldn’t help but hear what people were saying. A young family to his left, with a weary looking mother and an exasperated father, tended to two young children, a boy and a girl. The children were pretending to fight with sticks they must have picked up from the ground outside. Their parents were trying to stop them from running about, but the children bore no mind. 

Head on over to ao3 for the rest :)

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[desswright29]

Soldier Girl

Warnings: (Smut 18+), Mentions of blood, Inexperience

Pairing: Mo WashingtonX Black Fem reader

word count: Baby ion know. Let it ride

A/N: Enjoy!!

I stepped out onto my porch couple hours ‘fo sundown. Going out to collect a bit mo’ wood for my oven and fire pit. I grab my axe throwing it over my shoulder, hiked up my dress and set out on my usual path, intendin’ to make quick work of me one of them dead tree’s in them woods near by. Don’t much happen ‘round these parts for me. No neighbors for miles and I grow all I need right chea on my land, only gotta make a trip to town ‘bout once a month. Built me a good size house and barn fo’ my animals, got a few chickens as well. I do damn well on my own and that’s how I likes it. 

  As I walk, gettin’ further down on my trail I noticed a horse tied to a tree a lil up yonder. As I got a bit closer, I found a man laying ‘gainst that same tree, hat covering his face, restin’ I reckon. But, I don’t take to kindly to folk trespassing on my land. So, I silently make my way cross the brush up to the restin’ fella. Fast as lightenin’ I brought my axe down to meet the side of his neck stopping short from cutting’ ‘em. Just as fast, I was met with the barrel of his Remington six-shooter. 

 “Who’s you and why is you in my woods.” I say real calm like. His other hand come up grabbing his hat placing it back on his head directly. He slowly turned his head toward me careful not to meet his neck with my blade. That’s when I got a view of his sharp jawline, perfect lips (not too full, not too thin), and the tip of his nose. Hm, look like he a handsome fella.

“I ain’t know’d nobody owned these here woods Ma’am I’s just passing through. Needed a rest thas all. I can be on my way.” That’s when he looked all the way up, I got a peak under that there hat, and I’ll be damned….

“You’s a lady!” I say. I wasn’t asking. I know a woman when I see one, and this one here  was one of the handsomest women I’d ever laid eyes on, it could take ya’ breath away. She looked at me, expression not changing. 

“Ma’am, I promise ion’t want no trouble. If you would lower ya blade, I could be on my way.”

“How ‘bout you lower dat gun first.”

“How ‘bout we do it together.”

“Fine by me.”

“A’right on three.” She say, gettin’ up real turtle like from her spot on the ground. “One.. two.. three”

We both put down our weapons and then fast brought ‘em back up. She looked at me and smirked. My stomach felt all fluttery. She put her gun down and I followed along wit my axe.

“What’chu doin’ out chea lookin’ like this gal” I say. Curious to know why she was out here masqueradin’ in men’s clothes.

“Just passin’ through ma’am. I’ll be on my way now.” I looked her up and down as she gathered her things to head out. Her clothes was covered in blood, she looked like she hadn’t rested in days. 

“Naw nie, you look like ya’ need some rest. That yo’ blood?”

“That ain’t yo’ bidness”

“Gon’ be my business if you want me to let ya’ rest here. It’s almost sundown and all this here my land. Where else ya gon’ go gal.”

She turned her head left and that’s when I saw the gash in her neck. I gasped.

“Somebody hurt you!”

“Don’t matter. They gone now” She say, mystery lying’ in her tone. Dat’ll be a story fo’ another time.

“Let me help ya.” I offer. “The sun gon go down in a few. I’s just gathering some wood so I can cook some dinner and light a fire to keep warm. My house just up yonder. You know these nights get freezing, and you look like you could use a hot meal. I got some water, apples, and some shelter for your horse too.”

She looked up into the sky and then back down at me with those eyes that was as deep as pools. Filled with stories. She nodded. 

“Well, lady I reckon I should know your name if you gon’ be my guest” I say.

“Mo. Mo Washington.” She say, with a tilt of her hat.

“Mo. I’m Y/n” I say with a nod.

“Nice to meet you Miss Y/n” She looked at me, sizing me up cautiously. 

“You ain’t gotta worry bout me lest you here to cause harm. You safe round here. Why don’t you help me gather up me some of this here wood and we can head on back.”

“Dat sound just fine Miss Y/n” Mo’ took off her jacket and threw it over her horses back, she rolls up her bloodied sleeves and takes the axe from my hands. 

“I’ll cut. You can load it on ol’ Blondie over there.” She pointed at her horse, and went to work. 

I watched her work. The veins protruding from her forearms as she gripped the axe and swung hitting the the stump she found with 

precision, easily breakin’ it down. She was strong, and I was intrigued. 

“What’s yo’ story? If you don’t mind me asking. How you end up here?” She brought the axe up and back down with a grunt, breaking the stump into another halve. I bit into my lip. My God.

“Once, I was set free, I decided to join the war. I watched them boys for awhile, and then I cut my hair bought a suit, walked on the base and picked up a uniform.” Grunt, slam. “Made enough money to get out and buy me a gold claim, so I can buy me and my people some land out this way. Ran into Tommy Walsh and his boys on the way to cash the claim, the coach crashed, ruined the claim.” Grunt, slam. “Long story short everybody dead and the good Lord saw fit to get me out alive, nie I’m tryna get far way from that place as possible.”

“You killed Tommy Walsh and his boys!?” My eyes wide as saucers. As a walked over gathering the wood she cut to stack on her horse back. She glanced over her shoulder at me. 

“Only cause I had to.” There them damn flutters again. 

“ Hm, So you’s a soldier. I ain’t never met no soldier gal befo’ “

“ We’ll I’m the only one I know of” she say walking up to me hand reachin’ out for a shake axe thrown over her shoulder. I reach and grab it, admiring how veiny and strong her hands are “So nice to meet ya.” She say, with a small smile. Our eyes met as we shook hands. The touch sent ‘lectricity through my body. Was it possible that I fancied this woman? The touch lingered a bit longer than normal. 

“Uh I-I reckon we got enough here. We should head back fo’ dark catch us.” I said letting go of her hand. She stepped back eyes still on me, she smirked a little before tying the wood to the horse and guiding Blondie towards my home as I led the way. 

The walk was silent as I walked beside her. I couldn’t help but to keep glancing’ her way. Lookin at the stride of her walk. All them cuts ‘n bruises and she still walked real smooth. This Mo smoother than any man I ever met. “You smell real pretty” I hear her soft voice break our silence. I smile. 

“I make my own soaps and butters out of some of the stuff I grow in my garden. I’ll let you choose some to wash with tonight. I know you’re dying for a good soak.”

Mo’ smiled and nodded, as we walk up to my home. I led her round back to the stables and gardens and got Blondie some apples, then led her over to the trough to tie her up so she could drink. Filling my witches pot with water to boil, I couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes borin’ a hole into my back.

“How a lil lady like you get all dis here? You got a husband?” Mo’ say walking up on my porch with me. I scoff a bit. 

“I’m surprised a strong woman like yo’self would aks a question like that. Another woman can’t be jus’ as strong as you?”

Mo’ smiled using one side of her mouth. Tilting her head to the side a bit, her hat adding that mystery to her. It was almost seductive. 

“I ain’t said all that gal, I’m sure you plenty strong. You sho’ll stacked up to be.” A hint of what I believed to be flirtatiousness in her voice. Couldn’t be. 

Thank the Lord fo’ my chocolate skin though, cause I’d be red as a tomato from blushin’. I turn ‘round and head in the house with her following behind me. I can hear her chuckle. 

“To answer yo’ question Soldier gal, I built all this here m’self. I sell my soaps and things, milk from my cow, vegetables from my garden, and I do a bit of sewin’, to pay for supplies, and I do pretty damn good.”

“You out here all by yo’ lonesome?” Her eyebrow raised. 

“Yup, I do a good job handlin’ m’self too” 

Mo laughed, I knew then I’d do anything to hear that sound come from her again. 

“Yea, I got a piece of that when you had yo’ axe up ‘gainst my neck.”

I raised a confident brow and headed to the kitchen. 

“Got yo’self a nice place here Miss”

“Thank ya’ very much.” I smile big with pride. We should get you cleaned up fo’ dinner. Come on here, I’ll show you to the Wash room. First let me let you pick something to wash with. And get you some clean clothes.” I take her to my room pullin’ out my collection of soaps, oils, and butters.

“Whatever you wanna use just take it”

“You say you sell these?”

“Yea”

“How much?”

“Don’t worry about that I’m giving it to ya’”

“I can’t take from yo’ livelihood” 

“ Chile! It’s only a few lil thangs I got plenty just take it!”

“Awright, awright gal, Shucks!”She went through smelling the soap, until she got to one I could see she took a liken’ to. “That one right there I make out of bergamot and lemon, it would suit you well.”

There goes that smile again. I could just die. 

“I’m sure your waters done. I’ll go get it.” I say.

“Naw, I’ll take care of it. You can gon’ get started on that dinner.” 

“All right. I’ll leave you be. I layed out something comfortable for you to wear for dinner.” 

I decided to change into my thin white house dress to be a bit mo’ comfortable. I head back to the kitchen. And put on my apron, and pull out my chicken from the icebox, I’d  got it all seasoned and let it marinade through out the day. Figured I’d make chicken, peas, and cornbread. I got my oven all started up and got the food going. Once I got my cornbread in the oven, I decided to go and check on my guest. I walked to the wash room and knocked. 

“You doin’ aight in there?”

“I’m fine.. actually I was wondering if you had shampoo.”

“It’s in there in that lil cabinet. I could get it for you if you don’t mind me bein’ in there.”

“It’s fine.”

Slowly opening the door and making my way in, I see her in all her glor, soakin’ in the tub eyes shut head lying back relaxed. I walk to the cabinet and grab the shampoo. 

“ You know uh, I-I could wash it fa’ ya. You been through a lot gettin’ this far. I’m sure you could use a lil pamperin’. ” 

Mo opened her eyes, turning’ towards me lookin’ me directly in the eyes, she nods slowly. I move toward her, nealing at the side of the tub, grabbing my water cup to dip into the water and pour into her hair. I add the shampoo and began to massage it into her scalp. A deep groan come from Mo’s throat, she closed her eyes and sank deeper into the water. I smile and continue to lather rinse and repeat as I hum her a song. 

“Ain’t nobody handled me this gently since I’s a baby I reckon”

I smiled. And reached out a hand in front of her as I finished washing her hair. 

“ Here, let me get that sponge imma get ya back fa’ ya’”

Mo handed me the sponge and sat up. Surprisingly, she had a beautifully smooth back. I started washin’ her and she moaned meltin’ into my touch. The more sounds of approval I got the more it felt like an honor to cater to this here soldier gal. And I knew then, I did indeed fancy her. I wanted her more than I wanted to breathe right now.  

  I brought the sponge up from her back round her shoulders allowing her to sit back in the tub again. She leaned back and our heads were so close that I know she could feel my breath ticklin’ her ear. I held the sponge ‘gainst her upper chest and began to scrub. She brought her hand up to stop me and we locked eyes. Her eyes were filled with a confused type of desire, as our faces grew closer. I had to admit I was feeling the same. My head was confused but the throbbin at my core felt very sure. Our lips grew closer touching in the most gentle of kisses. Sendin my head swirling. I pulled back breakin’ away from those lips that were slightly rough, but in the most beautiful way.

“I’m sorry… I should go f-finish cookin” I say rushin out the do’.  What in the world was that?  I think as I start to fry my chicken.

A little later she come in the kitchen, dressed in  a fresh button up and some more twead slacks that I’d sewn to sell, smelling like fresh bergamot and her Afro damp and picked out, parted in the right side. My heart stuttered, as she sat down at the table, chair turned to face me. I pulled the cornbread from the oven. And feeling eyes on my backside I had to break the tension. 

“You like what you see soldier gal?” 

I turned to look at her, and she looked caught. Sitting man spread, leaned back in the chair hands restin cooly on her stomach, bottom lip trapped inbetween her teeth. Her eyes shot up to meet mine. 

“I I I’m uh sorry.”

“That’s not what I asked” I say, wiping my hands on my apron and walking towards her. A sudden burst of bravery hit me, I stopped right in front of her, her knees touching my shins. 

She shook her head to both sides absentmindedly. 

“I-it ain’t natural.” She says

“That ain’t what I asked neither. It ain’t nobody but me and you here, and I’m askin you, Do you. Like. What you see?” I ask bending over the chair holdin on to the seat of chair next to her thighs so I could be face to face with her. Her eyes locked on mine, and she nodded.

“Y-yea yea I reckon I do.”

“Is it comin’ natural to ya’? To like lookin’ at me?”

“I reckon so” she say breathin’ pickin’ up.

“Well that right there sound natural to me” I stood, leaving’ her breathless wantin’ mo’. I turned to go fix her plate. Putting a little extra somethin’ in my walk to give her a show. I could hear her let out a long sigh behind me. I fixed our plates and sat them down at the table, sitting next to her. 

“Eat up” 

“Look good” She say’s, but when I look up I see she’s looking at me. I bit my lip and  turned toward her. Reckoning’ she wasn’t hungry fo’ no food at the moment.

“When you lookin’ at me like that. What you thinkin?”

“I ain’t thinkin’ as much as I’m feelin’. “

“Well what you feelin’?” Her eyes lower in an undeniable lust, and her voice is lower than i remember when she speaks next. 

“Like I wanna kiss you, and I wanna feel you pretty lady. You gon’ let me do that?” She ask, leanin’ forward elbow on the table. 

I stand again. This time making my way over to her, I push her back in her seat, hiking up my dress I make myself comfortable with both legs on either side of her lap. 

“Do it please, kiss me, touch me. You can do whatever you want with me soldier gal”

She hungrily leaned in and connected our lips. Her hands gripped my waist as my arms snaked around her neck and I started to roll my body into her lap. Her hands lowered from my waist down to my backside givin’ it rough squeeze. She pulled away from the kiss, shocked. 

“You ain’t got on no drawers!?” She whisper yelled. I laughed heartily.

“I’on like wearing’ em round the house.” 

She growled low in her throat, and next thing I know I was being picked up and placed onto the table. Plates pushed to the side. Mo’ crawled on top of the table between my legs wrestlin’ with her shirt. I reached down helpin her untuck her shirt and I clumsily unbuttoned her pants as she got her shirt unbuttoned, and tossed to the side. Our lips connected again with her pressing her body into mine slowly grinding into me. I moan into her mouth reaching under her form fitting tank she still had on, touching the smooth skin of her firm stomach. 

“I ain’t never done this befo’” she manages to say between kisses. I pulled away and looked into her eyes. 

“Me neither, but it’s natural right. So we’ll just listen to our bodies. Do what they tell us to right?”

“Right.”

She leaned in, kissing my forehead, the tip of my nose, my lips, my chin, down to my neck. She took her time there. Sliding the straps of my gown down my arms revealing my breast. She looked down at them licking her lips. She went down further attaching her lips to my left breast while palming the other. 

“Ah! Mo” her name comes out as a sigh on my lips. She moans at my taste, bringing her tounge out flicking it over my nipple before reattachin herself suckin a bit harder. She moves on from that one showin the other some attention too. Then she squeezes them together burying her face into my breast. Kissing, licking, sucking, moaning like it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted. I could feel my core leaking, waiting for her touch as she gave my body some much needed attention. She made her way down my body until she pulled my dress up making it bunch up at my center. 

She opened my legs groaning at the sight of my flower. She began to kiss her way down my thighs. I threw my head back eyes clenched shut in anticipation. Then I felt her hand touch where I craved her most. My breath hitched.

“ My God… it’s so wet” she placed her thumb on my pearl, Stroking up, down, circle, circle. Up, down, circle, circle. She repeated the pattern. 

“Ooooh Mo Babyyy! Y-you makin my body feel so goood!

“You smell so good Miss Y/n, I wanna taste you, can I put my mouth on you?”

“YES! Oh God please yes!” My breathing picked up, as she lowered herself down on me. I moaned softly as she placed a gentle kiss on my lady parts. Then another, and another. Slowly she stuck out her tongue and began licking long slow strips through my folds. It felt like my soul had left my body and was somewhere in another universe. I thought that was as good as it could get until Mo’ wrapped her lips around my pearl and began to suck. My eyes snapped open, my body lurched forward, mouth droppin open into the shape of in O, and my arms came down behind me to hold my body steady. 

I watched her work. Strong hands gripping my thighs, face buried between them, eating me like I’s the best meal she ever had. “Mo’ I-I Oooooo”. Words betrayed me as my body shook from the pleasure I was recieving. I began to roll my hips into her face, head dropping back as I brought my hand up to grip her freshly washed hair. Apparently, this drove her crazy, because both of her arms wrapped themselves tightly around my thighs and before I knew it I was being lifted into the air and carried to the nearest wall. She pressed me up against the wall as I sat on her shoulders as she devoured me from what felt like the inside out. I was going crazy. She brought a finger to my entrance and started to thrust it inside me. 

“Gyat Damnit Soldier Gal! I-I f-feel like I’m gonna explode! I can’t take nomore! Please!”

She took her mouth off only for a moment.

“ Yes you can. You can do it You strong pretty lady. Take it. I’m not done tasting you.”

“ AHHHH! Mo somethings happenin’ Don’t Stop!!! ” I scream as a warmth radiated throughout my entire body. I felt something snap inside my belly and then I was gripping the back of her head with one hand and the other shot to the ceiling. My hips bucked into her face and my back arched. My body was trembling overwhelmed by this new sensation, tears began to stream down my face. I had never felt anything like that befo’. 

Mo, stayed down there and licked up every drop, then gently lowered me down, wrapping my legs around her waist.

“You alright pretty lady?” I looked at Mo with stars in my eyes, speechless. Still slightly jerking coming down from my high, causing Mo  to chuckle a bit. “Talk to me little lady”. 

I grabbed both sides of her face kissing her passionately. “I wanna make you feel good too, you been doing all that fightin’ and killin’, you deserve to somethin’ pleasurable.”

“You gon’ do that for me?” She bit her lip and raised a brow.

“Take me to the room and I’ll show you.”

Mo’ smiled and ran to the room with me in her arms. Once we reached the room, I wiggle out of her arms and push her backward until we reached the bed. I push her back onto the bed and pull off her tank, allowin her to pull down her pants and underwear. She now lay underneath me completely naked and all I wanted to do was take care of her. 

I hover over her looking her deep in the eyes. Takin in all her scars. They somehow made her more beautiful. Knowin all she had been through and here she was trustin’ me with her body, Layin bare. I couldn’t possibly let her down. I kissed her neck right above the healin scar, and the other side against the one already healed. I moved down to her breast takin my time there. Her back arched as she brought her hands up to the back of my neck holding me up against her breast as though she was feeding me, and I sucked her slight but pretty breast like I’d been starving’ for years. 

I left a trail of kisses down her belly making my way to her pretty little womanhood. In between strong toned chocalate thighs that glistened with her need for me. I placed two fingers against her folds. Swiping up, seeing her wetness coat my fingers. I hummed, looking up I met the eyes of the Soldier Gal, and proceeded to press a kiss against her bud. She let out a hissing sound, the arch in her back getting deeper as she threw her head back. I followed her lead doing what I’d felt her do to me. 

“My my pretty lady” She moaned with that enchanting voice of hers, as I stuck my tongue inside her entrance moving it in and out. I brought my hand to her pearl and rubbed circles as I continued to bask in her taste. 

“Oh right there! Please make me feel good!” She screamed grounding her heat into my face , that’s when something came to me. I pulled away suddenly earning a disappointed huff from Mo.

“It was feeling so good! Why’d you stop?”

“I w-want to try something. Uh, I want to feel you up against me”

“Huh? I ain’t no man I don’t think we gon feel nothing.”

“Let’s just try it hm?” She nods her head. I began to position myself over top of her. Throwing a leg over hers, then reaching down to spread open her lips, I lowered myself down onto her and both of us moaned out. Our eyes connected and we both smiled as I began to move my hips ‘gainst her. Her hands shot up to my hips holding me as she moved under me. We let out a simultaneous “Ooohhh!”. 

“Oh goodness, Pretty lady t-this here feel too good!”

“Mhm!” Is all I could manage in response as I speed up the pace reaching down to pinch and play with her nipples. She groaned as her eyes closed and her breathing picked up and her head began to thrash side to side. 

“Uuuhhhnnn!! I think I’m bout to explode!”

“Yes soldier gal that’s it! Let it take over you! We gon’ explode together! “

“Y-you feel s-so good ‘gainst me p-pretty lady!”

She say in a blissed out whimper. I bend down, our bodies still moving together, and took hold of her lips again. 

“ Let it go fo’ me Mo, I’m goin’ with ya’” I moan before grabbing’ her breast and placing my lips against hers again. That’s when I felt the damn break. Mo’ started to tremble underneath me her mouth opened against mine, as she let out the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard, followed by “Shhiiitt! shit, shit, shit!” 

I felt her liquid gushing from her womanhood and that quickly brought me over the edge as well. My hips stuttered against hers. She wrapped her arms around my waist and held me real tight. Our mouths sitting open against eachothers swallowing the moans, my hands tangled in her Afro. Our bodies still moved against eachothers, in a trembling slow whine as we road out our highs together until we came down.

We both lay tangled together, quietly collectin’ our breath. She broke the silence.

“Miss y/n,… I wanna do that again.”

I looked up at her and couldn’t help but giggle at the smirk against her face. I kissed her lips. 

“That was a hell of a welcome home huh Soldier Gal.”

—————————————————————————-

A/N: Y’all saw Mo dragging them big ass men y’all know she can scoop you up. Lol I hope y’all enjoyed, and don’t worry Shame pt. 5 is coming!

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

OH! For Valentine’s event!! Please could I have some first date headcanons for Killer Croc? I’m plus size, so I hope he’s down for a chunky clown 💚 I prefer staying in more than going out, I love verbal affection and gentle physical affection, and I love horror so that’s always a Valentine’s Day plus if it can be squeezed in somewhere! And I’m goofy and silly and I like being nice! I hope that’s enough to go off of!! 💚

"Horror and Sweetness" Killer Croc x Reader (Valentine's Event 2024)

Hello Finnie!! All this detail is PERFECT, thank you so much for writing in <3 Since you said headcanons I'm gonna go more bullet point style with this to better suit the prompt- This ask is for the ongoing Valentine's Day Event! (final day to submit)

TW: suggestive toward the end

When you first asked him out, he assumed you were fucking with him. You like to joke around like he does and there's no way you'd be approaching him- except when he realized you were sincere and he's silently flustered. Then he says yes.

Chunky clown, huh? Don't you worry about that, sha, they had to make a new BMI category for him at some point. Plus sized just means you like to eat and dammit if one of his love languages isn't taking care of a partner! Especially cooking! It also shows you're cute AND soft which he really, really appreciates given how rough HE is. Good for cuddles.

You liking to stay in works well for him, especially for a first date. The idea of you trying to get to know each other in a romantic capacity and having every eye in the place staring is less than ideal. So a night in! You're gonna get a whole lot of questions about the foods you like, how much spice level you can handle, etc. etc. No shame if spice isn't your thing, he can cater to that.

He'd joke that maybe if you're real sweet on him, he can take you for beignets next time. He knows a spot that actually does 'em decent. Hm... How would you feel about being his little beignet? He might ponder this potential pet name aloud while he's cooking. Soft and fluffy and sweet- just like you!

After you finish eating (and were hopefully incredibly impressed by him), you two can sit on the couch in front of the TV. There's a huge divot in the furniture you can determine as "his side" that you can sit next to. You said you liked horror so. uh. He's gonna rent whatever you say is good. He's not typically a horror person per say, but he'll enjoy it.

Note: he will enjoy it, but he's definitely leaning in closer, it's not your imagination. "That sure is... spooky." There is one particular jump-scare that gets him just so- and his arm goes in front of you, almost as though to protect you. Even when you offer that the movie can be changed, he insists no! No, it's fine! He's just going to put his hand on yours and if you want to hold it, he's not going to complain about that.

Truthfully, he'd be very cautious about being physically affectionate at first because he doesn't know how you'll react. Hopefully positively! But... past experience has him wary. If you initiate and give him the green light, though, he'll lean into it heavily.

As the movie rolls to credits, he looks content as he speaks, "You're uh. You're not like anybody else I've ever met. And I've met a lotta different folks. Not bad- You're hot as hell and shit, wait-"

There's a moment he seems to be collecting his thoughts, "Look, you don't wanna take this further, I get it. But you should know I liked this. I like you. You're... You're a helluva lotta fun. And nice. I like how nice you are." He's scratching the back of his neck. Waiting for a response.

When you tell him that you want to keep doing this and seeing him again, his face gets a large toothy grin. Curling his claws inward to his palm, he brushes the knuckle of his finger along your jawline. He puts his forehead to yours. His lips peck yours.

In this sense, he's a gentleman. He's not going to expect sex just because you're at his place. Plus considering his whole body situation, it would be kind of rude to assume you want to jump in on that without some prep.

"But hey, cher, you wanna check under my bed for the bogeyman, you can stay the night." He winks. It's totally not lowkey because he's a little scared. If not, he'd make sure you got home whether it was driving or him walking you to your doorstep himself.

[loviestyless]

Shadowed Starlight*

Summary: Odile Einar has one purpose: kill the fae king and prevent the prophecy from coming true. the only thing that stands in her way is their deep rooted history.

fantasy au! king harry x assassin oc

Warnings: murder, violence, blood, smut: dom!harry, thigh riding, choking, praise kink, breeding kink

The shrill echo of a sharpened sword dragging against concrete announced the arrival of the lone warrior, stirring the ripples of shadows curling through the throne room and fuelling the whispers of terror warning her not to venture further. Night followed in her wake as her bloodied weapon etched stars in the dark, marbled floor of the building built off nightmares, the very essence of her power rolling off her body as rage coursed through her bloodstream at the sight of the figure sat atop his throne. Waiting.

Dark stories of the High Fae surrounded the golden throne, the ornate and intricate paintings shone through the shadows - depicting the cruel suffering his ancestors had inflicted upon the unfortunate common folk of Eroda. Every war, every rebellion and every battle for power the royal bloodline had successfully won filled all four walls of the gigantic room - embellished with gold to serve as a reminder to the unfortunate souls unlucky enough to kneel before the king that they never stood a chance.

The Fae King draped himself casually atop the ancient throne, his shadows humming through the walls, clawing at their invisible shackles in an attempt to strangle the woman for approaching the King so brazenly. But he remained unbothered, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips as his emerald eyes soaked in her appearance. Everything about his demeanour was the least bit regal, as if he was merely a young prince playing up to a title, he would one day inherit, even his crown lay crooked atop his mess of curls. He maintained slouched against the throne while she approached, almost as if it burdened him to be cursed with such beauty his entire immortal life and the warrior scoffed at such petty vanity the King harboured.

But despite such a relaxed demeanour, the woman knew of the horrors that lay behind those gorgeous green eyes. This man was lethal, his shadows alone could smother the entire room in seconds, killing her instantly if she let her starlight dim under his watch.

Sweat and blood smeared across her dark skin, twinkling like stars as the rows of candles flickered in the breeze that swept through the building upon her entrance. Every slow, confident step forward made it harder for her to keep control of her power, tendrils of night eager to land a lethal strike.

"My, my, aren't you a sight for sore eyes." He purred, his sharp gaze dragging down her body to take in her blood-soaked armour with amusement. Swirls of shadows snaked their ways around his forearms, summoned silently by the King as a reminder of his potential power and to intimidate the Fae assassin refusing to bow at his feet.

It had been years since she had seen his face and as much as she hated to admit it, he still looked just as beautiful as when she'd left. His thick curls were shorter, no longer dusting the tops of his shoulders but sat messily atop his head in a way that emphasised his sharp jawline. Her brown eyes flared with specs of starlight as she forced herself not to succumb to his beauty - it was how she'd gotten tangled up in this mess in the first place and she couldn't afford to let him charm her again. Not when the fate of the entire kingdom rested upon her shoulders.

The shadow's whispers seemed to fall silent while the King taunted the warrior, waiting with bated breath for her to react to his cunning words.

"The little assassin returns." Harry mused softly. His legs swung over the arm of the chair so that he swivelled around to sit properly, his knees parted as he leaned forward with a sinister smirk. "I must admit, twenty years to seek out an oracle is a little excessive, is it not Odile?"

Every sentence that rolled off his tongue was meticulously planned, specifically chosen to tempt her into giving in to the rage he could see flowing through her bloodstream. The assassin felt her grip tighten around the handle of her weapon, a deep breath rattling her chest as she refused to let him affect her. The King chuckled lowly, emerald eyes darkening slightly they flickered over her body once more.

"And no babe in your arms, either." He mocked, shaking his head condescendingly as he stared at Odile's tense form, "What a wasted journey."

Odile fought the urge to stiffen at the reminder of the past, of her old self who was so foolishly naive and trusting in the Fae King that she wandered blindly into the forest twenty years ago seeking confirmation of a life she thought she wanted. But the answers she found were not what she expected. And judging by Harry's proud smirk, he too knew the prophecy that was handed to her instead - one that had changed her forever.

No longer was she a shy, timid woman that remained blindsided by the true extent of the King's powers. She was Eroda's assassin and she was here to kill the treacherous bastard that had reigned for far too long.

"Look at you, burning with rage." A deep chuckle rumbled in Harry's chest, only making Odile's power ripple with anger. Tendrils of night rolled off her body, inching their way closer to the throne where speckled starlight waited to strike the King's shadows. "I think I like this new you, it's more...enticing."

Honeyed words dripped off his tongue and Odile had to force herself to keep her eyes locked on his, resisting the urge to glance down at her feet under his intense glare. He knew exactly the right thing to say to charm people, to get them on his side and that was the exact reason she was in this position in the first place. But she refused to fall for it any longer, he was a brutal murderer and she wouldn't let him continue the vicious cycle for centuries to come. The prophecy would end here today. By her hand.

The Kingdom of Eroda shall fall by the hands of darkness if not stopped by the light. Centuries of bloodshed and corruption will end when stars and shadows join once more and create shadowed starlight. The palace will stand tall among the ashes, ready to rebuild a world that was lost to evil- a world where the stars will shine anew.

"You deserve to die for what you've done." Odile's voice was steady and confident, revenge dominating every inch of her body and making her eyes darken with deadly intent.

"What I've done?" Harry snickered lightly, no sense of remorse at all. "I think we should start with what you've done, darling."

The ripples of shadows swirling around his hands slowly drifted towards her, snaking their way around her feet and up her legs as the King took in her bloodied appearance. Crimson soaked her leather armour, splashed across her skin and drenched her locs but not a single drop of it was hers. Odile was untouched, unharmed and standing tense as the shadows settled around her neck - the ghost of Harry's touch taunting her with the possibility of what he could do.

A chill ran down her spine as her breath caught in her throat at the feeling of his power calling to hers, her inner starlight singing to the shadows and threatening to give in to him once more. She had felt these shadows brush against her skin many times before, but she refused to give in to their touch - not when the prophecy rang clear in her mind.

"Your governors are dead by my hand. They serve Hel now." She announced coldly, allowing her eyes to flare white with starlight so the King could see the threat she posed to his position on the throne - reminding him she was no longer the timid woman he knew twenty years ago. She felt his shadows squirm slightly as her power surged but the King remained relaxed. "You are next to join them."

"Well, you have been busy, haven't you?" He mused, sitting up straight in his throne and finally taking this seriously. It appeared the threat on his life was something to worry about.

No doubt he had heard whispers of the assassin rampaging through his lands the past two decades, training in the woods for the mission of a lifetime before hunting down every corrupt government official that served under the King. All of them were attacked when they least expected, brutally murdered and their bodies hung outside their houses as a warning to those that remained.

No longer would the poor be squeezed for every piece of copper they owned, no longer would the King's guards turn a blind eye to crime and no longer would the black-market fuel the underworld of illegal drugs and fighting rings. Eroda could go back to being the beautiful land, enriched with magic and beauty like the history books had once reported to the world.

All that was left was for the King to fall and the prophecy would be changed.

"I applaud you for your success, my darling. But I must address the little fault in your plan."

"If you intend to beg for your life then you underestimate my power." Odile's hand gripped the leather handle of her sword and carried a certain lightness in her feet as she prepared herself for the attack. Her best bet was to keep him talking, his ego was his downfall and all Odile had to do was catch him when his guard was down.

She was going to slit his throat where he sat and sit on the throne soaked with his blood as the Queen of Eroda - ready to rebuild the kingdom to its former glory.

"Not at all, Odile. I have always known what power you possess; you were just too blind to see it." His words were cocky, full of confidence that he shouldn't have in such a moment before his death. For many, it would be unnerving but for Odile it only made her all the more determined. "I simply intend to ask how you think the prophecy will play out when you kill your mate."

Odile felt her heart lurch at the reminder that the beautiful man in front of her was in fact her mate, the person fate decided was her other-half for all eternity - the person that completed her soul. When she had first met him twenty years ago, their bond snapped into place the moment their eyes locked and everything in her life seemed to fall into place. She was given a purpose, a lover and someone that mirrored her level of devotion.

Her love had blinded her from seeing what a despicable man Harry truly was, that was until the Oracle allowed her to see what she had been oblivious to the entire time. The bond still hummed within her, urging her to embrace his love after such time apart. The pining had almost driven her mad at first, unable to block out her power calling out to him at all hours of the day. Her magic needed him and his shadows needed hers. It would bring such pain to her heart to live on while her mate was killed - their bonded souls torn apart for the rest of eternity.

"You may be my mate and my husband, but I reject anything that binds me to such a cold-hearted leader as you. I would live with such pain knowing I had saved thousands from your blighted power."

Suddenly, bright starlight flooded the throne room, Odile's light bouncing off the golden accents of the entire room and blinding the King in an instant. His shadows recoiled with a hiss, leaving Harry unprotected long enough for the assassin to spring into action. One minute she was standing tall in front of the throne, the next she was straddling her mate's lap, pinning his shoulders against the back of the throne with the bloodied blade of her weapon digging uncomfortably into his neck.

Stars melted around them, revealing the rage filled warrior to the King so he could truly see her now. Honey brown eyes had darkened with anger, tendrils of night snaked up Harry's arms and pinned him in place so he could do little to overpower her.

Blood smeared against the King's face as Odile's left hand gripped his jaw, bringing her face so close to his that their lips almost touched.

Harry's pink lips curled upwards at the closeness of his wife, the twenty years of silent pining for her return finally silenced under her touch. Albeit because she was holding a sword to his throat and threatening his life. But he wasn't worried, he knew she still loved him dearly and had felt the same hollowness in her heart while she was away.

"I am not the man you think I am."

"It is your shadows the prophecy speaks of; you are the dark hands that have tainted this kingdom with corruption." She spat, starlight fizzling off her body and landing in sparks on the floor around her. Harry's eyes drifted down to glance at her lips before meeting her intense stare once again - he'd be lying if he said this new side to her wasn't turning him on.

"You are my lover and with your death Eroda will finally be free."

"I have protected this kingdom for five-hundred years, darling. You truly haven't worked it out yet, have you? We're supposed to save Eroda together. Why do you think I sent you out to the Oracle that day?"

No matter how much she tried to hide her confusion at her mate's words, there was little she could do to suppress the frown that tugged at her brows.

Harry had not sent her to seek out an Oracle, she had done that herself. She had thought she was pregnant and went to ask for confirmation that she was carrying the future heir to Eroda's throne. Secrecy was key if she truly was with child, the last thing she wanted was for rival kingdoms finding out and putting her and her baby's lives in danger. Odile hadn't even mentioned anything to her maid before she slipped out of the palace under the cover of darkness - how Harry had found out she had no idea.

"I never told you I thought I might be pregnant. You didn't send me anywhere."

"You think those books about royal bloodlines just appeared on my nightstand out of nowhere? You think the fact you overheard the royal reports about an Oracle causing havoc in the forest was a coincidence?" Harry's demeanour shifted for the first time since Odile had returned, no longer teasing her but completely serious. "I planted that idea into your head, Odile. I knew what the Oracle would tell you and I needed you to hear it. Because you held the power to save Eroda."

Harry shifted slightly under Odile's thighs, straining against her power and glancing down at the sword pressed against his neck uncomfortably.

"Darling, you already saved us. The darkness has been eradicated." Harry explained softly, making Odile's restraints falter long enough for him to free his hands, his warm touch ghosting her thighs as he rubbed them slowly. "Please, put the sword down.

"Y-you're the darkness. You rule over the kingdom, it's your fault corruption has plagued these lands. This room itself lays testament to the centuries of pain you and your family have inflicted on people."

"Odile, I've always wanted to be different from my ancestors, it sickens me to be surrounded by the monstrosities they carried out under my family name. I have dreamt of a kingdom that was filled with magic and laughter since I was a boy but that was not the plan of my father. He changed the laws of the council so I would not influence their decisions over my people, I became a King by title but with no power." Harry's voice carried a sense of vulnerability within it that Odile had only ever heard when she was with him. To others he maintained an air of arrogance within himself but with her, he was completely different. "I sought out the Oracle two hundred years ago, hoping for a way to save Eroda and that is when I learnt of the prophecy. Of you."

Odile's mind was reeling. She had spent twenty years with only the words that the Oracle had told her to understand the gravity of the situation thrust upon her. She had asked for an explanation, some kind of guidance but little was given outside the prophecy recounted throughout history. Hate had been forced to fester in her heart towards her husband - her mate - and that kind of pain was almost impossible to cope with.

"How can I believe you?"

Harry's lips twitched upwards slightly with a coy smirk, his eyes darkening in the way Odile recognised far too well. His touch grew stronger against her thighs, trailing closer to the place he knew she wanted him but was too stubborn to admit. He could sense her arousal from the moment she'd straddled his lap, no doubt fighting the memories of being in such a position countless times before.

"Because you're my mate and I know in your heart you feel this is right." Harry whispered lowly, leaning in slightly so that his lips ghosted against hers. The sharp blade of her sword dug harder into his skin, no doubt leaving a mark but he didn't care, not when he finally got to touch his mate after pining for her these past twenty years.

Odile gasped slightly in surprise as his lips finally met hers, warmth flooding through her body as she let her husband kiss her with as much love as he physically could. Their lips moved in sync together, the blade at Harry's throat slipping slightly as Odile let her focus drift to how perfect this moment felt. Her heart was thumping erratically in her chest, finally at peace after being torn apart by such distance for so long.

Misted shadows curled around the pair, ghosting touches along Odile's soft neck in a way that made her moan in anticipation while Harry's palms continued to tease the tops of her thighs, occasionally brushing her warm arousal over the top of her fighting leathers. Gods, she'd missed this. No matter how much she'd tried to hate him the last twenty years, she'd always drift into the land of dreams where his touch would be waiting for her. She'd dream of riding his cock once more, hearing his grunts of pleasure ring into the night as she pleasured herself until years of pining was eventually satisfied.

"Look at you, giving in so easily. I knew you'd see sense." Lustful amusement hung off every word that escaped Harry's lips. "Let me fuck you, baby. Ride my cock and claim your throne."

And then it suddenly hit Odile - this was what the prophecy had spoken of this entire time.

The Kingdom of Eroda shall fall by the hands of darkness if not stopped by the light.

She had been the one to murder the corrupt governors and her starlight had sung her victory every time. Nobody was left to rule over the kingdom and so the laws were now irrelevant, all power was now reinstated to the crown. Harry was free to be the ruler that Eroda had desperately needed for thousands of years.

Centuries of bloodshed and corruption will end when stars and shadows join once more and create shadowed starlight.

Odile had previously thought it meant the final death must be Harry's, a final test to eradicate the plague of shadows over the kingdom before she could build Eroda from scratch. But with how things were currently playing out, it appeared to be referencing the passions of reunited lovers, perhaps about to conceive the first heir to the new world she had secured for the future.

The palace will stand tall among the ashes, ready to rebuild a world that was lost to evil- a world where the stars will shine anew.

The loud clatter of metal against marble echoed about the throne room as the weapon finally tumbled from Odile's grasp to rest at the foot of the throne. Harry groaned in relief, rolling his head back slightly to stretch his neck out now he was no longer restricted, the harsh red mark of the blade standing prominent against his skin. Odile's hands cupped her lover's cheeks, smashing her lips into his as she ground her hips into his with a breathy moan as she gave in to her desire.

This was what she wanted, just her and Harry reunited once more and ready to rule Eroda by each other's side.

"Make me your Queen, Harry." She panted breathlessly, barely pulling apart from the King as she spoke her final demand. "Knock me up, give yourself an heir."

Harry's eyes darkened as his powers rumbled with desire, a lustful smirk appearing on his lips as he took in Odile's demands - his mind running rampant with all the possible ways to pleasure his mate after so long apart. He'd dreamed of the day he'd once more feel her wet cunt around his heavy cock, gorgeous tits bouncing in his face while her screams of pleasures rang out through the entire palace.

"You gonna be my good girl, yeah?" He breathed out, hands already trailing upwards to claim her body as his. Brushing her long, bloodied locs over her shoulder, Harry's lips met the exposed skin of her neck, sucking gently as his palms squeezed her heavy breasts. Odile squirmed in his lap in desperate need of some friction against her aching core, revelling in the feeling of her mate's hard cock brushing against her cunt through the layers of clothing in the way. "Bet you're dripping for me, aren't you?"

Odile whimpered at Harry's voice so deep and oozing with seduction, frantically nodding in agreement as she felt his hand slip down the waistband of her leather pants to confirm what he already knew. A soft hum of satisfaction vibrated against her skin as Harry continued to mark up her neck, his fingers toying with her wet folds while Odile was rendered breathless with desire. Speckled starlight flickered from her fingers as she tugged at her husband's curls, head tipping back slightly as she allowed him to take his claim over her body.

Her mind was a blur, uncontrollable whimpers escaped her lips as she rocked against Harry's fingers - chasing the pleasure that was already building in her core.

"Undress, Odile." The King's demand was clear, his fingers quickly removed from Odile's trousers as he pulled back to watch her carefully. The assassin let out a frustrated groan as the building wave subsided, her fingers desperately tearing at her leathers to obey her husband's instructions. The quicker she acted, the better behaved she was, the sooner she'd get to ride his cock. "Need you naked on my lap."

The moment her top hit the floor, Harry's eyes flicked downwards to take in her bare breasts, free from blood and tempting him with their perfection. He watched silently as they bounced slightly as Odile unbuttoned her trousers, lifting her hips off of Harry slightly so she could pull them off completely - exposing her naked cunt for him to admire. Ripples of shadows snaked up her body, teasing her hard nipples before settling around her pretty neck, waiting for the command to choke her just the way she liked and Odile let out a soft moan in anticipation, knowing Harry was going to fuck her senseless at any moment.

"Look at you, my pretty Queen." He hummed softly, dark emerald eyes sweeping over Odile's naked body as if he was committing it to memory.

"If I am your Queen, I shall need a crown." Odile stated boldly, her hands already gripping the golden halo framing her husband's curls and lifting it from his head. A subtle moan rumbled deep in his chest as he watched her place his crown atop her locs.

His cock stiffened even more in the confines of his trousers at the sight of his wife wearing nothing but the golden crown on her head, desire overtook him and he knew he couldn't drag this out like he'd originally planned.

"Now fuck me, my King. Show me how much you missed me." Odile gripped Harry's jaw, her brown eyes locked onto his green with such intent in an attempt to get him to submit. But that was not Harry, he did not submit to anyone - not even his mate. He smirked playfully as she felt his shadows squeeze her neck, restricting the air just enough to make her head go the perfect amount of fuzzy.

"You want my cock, then take it, sweetheart. It's all yours." Settling back against his ornate throne, he watched as Odile set to work unbuttoning his trousers and freeing his length from the confines of his pants. She didn't care he was still fully clothed, all she cared about was finally getting to fuck her mate after years of pining after this exact moment.

He hissed softly as she took him in her hand, tugging slowly at his cock just enough to tease him with pleasure as she ground her pussy against his thick thigh. Wetness seeped into the material of his trousers, leaving a patch of arousal as she continued to get herself off before taking what she really wanted. Breathless pants filled the air as the pair of them got lost in pleasure, blurts of precome collected on the dark skin of Odile's hand like sparkling pearls while Harry's shadows created a necklace of darkness around her pure neck.

Harry's mouth suddenly enveloped Odile's left nipple, teeth grazing softly over her skin as he sucked at her breast perfectly positioned in front of her face. The rhythm of her hips became uneven as she whimpered with sensitivity, already feeling herself hurtling towards the edge after such a long time of nothing.

"H-Harry..."

Stars and shadows snaked around the throne as both their powers were released from its confines, the bond between them growing the further Harry and Odile fell into their pleasure and healing their shattered souls.

"So, close, sweetheart. Such a good girl f'me." Harry mumbled breathlessly, obviously struggling just as much as his wife to last much longer. "Come on my thigh, darling. Let go."

And that was all it took for her to tumble over the edge, hips stilling as she came all over Harry's thigh. Her head tipped back as a loud moan escaped her lips, bright stars filling the room and almost blinded Harry as he watched her gorgeous features scrunch up in pleasure - a sight he had only dreamed of for twenty years. His own release followed almost instantly, spurting up his clothed torso as Odile's pretty moans filled his ears like his favourite melody.

"Fuck-" He choked on his own moans, unable to talk properly as he struggled to stop his power from clouding his mind and rendering him completely speechless. "Perfect girl, so perfect, sweetheart."

Slumped against her husband's body, Odile peppered gentle kisses along his exposed, sweaty collarbones - delicate fingers trailing over the inked swallows that were left on display after the material had fallen open in all the pleasure.

"Made a mess all over me." He chuckled lightly, running his hand over her thighs as he took in the wetness on his trousers. Instead of blushing with embarrassment, Odile simply raised her hand that was covered in her husband's come and made a show of licking it up with a satisfied smirk. The sight of her tongue dragging along the back of her hand, savouring the taste of his release made Harry's cock twitch once more as he felt himself grow half hard with every lick.

"And you." She hummed, "Just as desperate, darling. You're not kidding anyone."

Her hips began to grind against his both of them still sensitive to touch but neither caring. Odile needed to sit on Harry's cock and feel him fill her up for the rest of eternity - she'd been empty for too long and now she needed to satisfy her hunger.

Taking him in her hand once more, Odile lifted herself up just enough to position him at her entrance. Hungry eyes watched her eagerly as Harry waited for the bliss of feeling her tightness envelope him completely - both of them sighing with pleasure as their hips joined once more.

Shadows curled around Odile's wrists, forcing them upwards so that her hands tangled in Harry's messy curls in a silent demand before settling around her neck to choke her. Her head was spinning with lust at the feeling of Harry's power constricting the amount of air she could take in, all while revelling in being full to the brim with his aching cock. Their lips smashed together, tongues dancing in each other's mouths as she began to ride her husband with an eager rhythm, hands tugging at his curls just as the King liked it. Deep moans escaped his lips, filling the air as his hands gripped her butt tightly, helping her to grind harder against him for both their pleasure.

"So tight, so wet, sweetheart." Harry panted into the kiss, bucking up into her pussy to hit the sweet spot inside her. "Missed this perfect cunt."

"Harder, make me scream!" Odile pleaded as a dull ache settled in her thighs with all the effort it was taking to ride his cock with such energy. She needed him to take her, to fuck her so hard she saw stars and he was more than happy to oblige - but not without a little teasing first.

"Knew you wouldn't kill me, darling." He chuckled slowly in between trailing sloppy kisses along her collarbone towards her heavy breasts. His thumb teased her clit, rubbing slow circles to add to the building tension at her core that made her such a moaning mess. "Need my cock too bad, don't you?"

A sharp snap of his hips timed perfectly with her hips bouncing down on his cock filled her even deeper, causing a loud moan to echo about the room unexpectedly, only proving Harry right.

"Who else would fuck you this good, leave you screaming like I can?" He smirked against Odile's skin as her sounds of pleasure continued to ring out across the room, allowing his shadows to ghost over every inch of her body and enhance every delicate touch he was giving her. "You'd miss the warmth of my cock for all eternity."

"Uh-huh, you. Only you, baby." She replied breathlessly, unable to focus properly as her hips began to stutter. Sweat sparkled like glitter on her dark skin, making her appear like starlight itself, all gorgeous and addictive. Harry's cock ached at the sight, his chest heaving with desire as he let his shadows tangle with the stars rippling from her body, both their releases rapidly approaching with little warning.

"Look at you, so full of me." The King grunted with each powerful thrust upwards, his fingers digging into her hips so hard as he helped guide her cunt onto his cock there was no doubt bruises would be left in their wake. "Taking me like a good girl."

"All yours, belong to you!" Odile whimpered, her vision going blurry as she was practically blinded by the tight coil of pleasure that was threatening to explode at any second. With Harry's shadows wrapped tightly around her neck, his sharp thrusts timed perfectly to hit her g-spot and his ghosted touch on her clit, the woman could barely sit up straight - her forehead resting on Harry's shoulder for support as he helped her reach her peak.

"Harry-" Her moan was immediately cut off by another sharp thrust from Harry's hips, the King recognising all the signs that she was seconds from toppling over the edge. Her hips bucked frantically as she chased the rising feeling in her core, heavy pants filling the air between them as the pair turned animalistic in chasing their high.

"I know, sweetheart. Come for me darling." Harry demanded; his voice thick with lust as he felt ready to burst. "Soak my cock, milk me dry."

Shadowed starlight tore through the room as pleasure peaked in perfect waves, slamming into the walls and crumbling the dark paintings into tiny pieces. Their pleasured moans mixed together in a delightful tune as they rode out their highs, Odile collapsing into Harry's arms as her body felt weak after such a powerful orgasm. Soft kisses were pressed against her sweaty forehead as Harry's soft touch rubbed her shoulder soothingly.

Wrapped up in each other's warmth, with his cock still buried deep within his mate, Harry finally felt the peace he'd dreamt of since taking the throne five hundred years ago.

Centuries of terror and bloodshed was over. It was time to start anew.

[sotwk]

Happy Birthday to you! Love your campfire party idea! I’d like to request a drabble about Steve Rogers/Captain America.

Thank you so much!

Thank you for the request, @zeldastrife, and for giving me a chance to dream about my favorite superhero of all time! <3 I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you and others will love it just as much. :)

Content/Genre: Marvel; Gen fluffy summer romance

Fireworks

Steve Rogers x Reader

Ever since you were a child, the fireworks show has always been your favorite part of the annual Fourth of July picnic. But now they were merely a convenient cover that allowed you to fixate on the sight you truly wished to openly stare at. 

He must have seen so many firework displays in his long lifetime, and with him being a war veteran (a gross understatement), you wondered if the sound of the roaring, cracking explosions bothered him. But the relaxed expression on his face, tipped toward the brightly, colorfully lit night sky, gave no indication of discomfort. 

Dressed in a plain gray t-shirt, jeans, and a Brooklyn Dodgers baseball cap, Steve passed for a run-of-the-mill all-American, allowing him to spend the entire day mingling with the rest of the townsfolk, quietly charming everyone with his gracious, easy manners, but never drawing prolonged attention to himself.

Who would ever expect Captain America to attend a small town, middle-of-nowhere celebration on such a significant holiday? No one would ever believe it, and none of the folks who had looked the living legend right in the face and spent several minutes chatting him up suspected a thing.

You yourself could still barely believe the entire day, or any of the past few weeks that led up to the present moment, was actually real. Steve Rogers was your date. Your love life catapulted from a woeful, lonely drought to dating literally the most perfect man in the entire nation. To think you had nearly turned him down for fear that this was all an elaborate prank or some cosmic joke. But thank God, truly, for the sudden, miraculous ability to not let your deep-seated anxieties get in the way this one time. 

Steve’s renowned bravery was slowly rubbing off you; you could tell. Every moment you spent in his company, you felt yourself becoming more comfortable and confident in your own skin, as though you were learning to see in yourself what he probably saw in you. Good things that he decided were worth his time and interest. 

That courage began to stir and bubble up inside you while you continued to watch Steve watch the fireworks. You knew he was a staunch gentleman, forever rooted in his old-fashioned ways. Four dates in and he's never done anything more than hold your hand or give you gentle hugs. 

He would not like a girl who’s too forward. The brazen courage smothered down the nagging warnings in your head. Or just give it a try, this braver side of you proposed.

You reached across the small distance between you and slipped your hand over his arm, folded across his chest. His intent blue eyes immediately shifted to you, and the smile he gave made your heart stutter.

Before your courage could get snuffed out, you rose on your toes and swiftly planted a kiss on his clean-shaven cheek.

“Happy Birthday, Steve. I hope you had fun today.”

With the daring deed done, your electrified nerves shorted out, and your gaze fell to the ground, heavy with growing shame. Hopefully the memory of that one kiss would be worth it, if this was to be the end. 

His strong hand closed around yours, squeezing gently, returning your strength to you. That hand then shifted to the small of your back, drawing you against him.

“Today was…” His fingers ghosted across your jawline before resting, lingering underneath your chin. Your own hands came up to his chest, your head was spinning and you so badly needed to steady yourself. Suddenly you noticed his heart was racing, pulsing furiously underneath your palm. 

“...perfect.” His chest heaved as he finally finished his sentence, and for a fleeting, ridiculously giddy moment right before he pressed his warm lips on yours, you realized that Captain America had been rendered nervous and breathless. Just for a moment, but it was all because of you.

This limited edition Marvel fic is a gift written as part of SotWK's Summer Campfire Sleepover 2024. (Requests accepted only on July 11-15, 2024.)

[sunshinehaze1]

consensus ad idem

Pairing: Nathan Landry x f!reader

Summary: When the forecast for a run-of-the-mill Chicago snowstorm changes and shuts down the entire city, you find yourself stuck in the State’s Attorney’s office overnight. Fortunately, you have plenty to keep you busy: prepping for your upcoming case and your colleague…Nathan Landry.

Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MDNI. fingering, f!oral, spanking, playful biting, dry humping, unprotected PiV, creampie, reader has painted nails and toenails, a one finger pour of whiskey for each of you, necktie as a restraint, pet names: sweet thing, pretty girl & sweetheart. No use of Y/N.

a/n: This was written for @burntheedges Roll-a-Trope Challenge. I wanted to give Nathan Landry some love and received “Snowed-In” for the trope. I took a teeny bit of liberty with the trope, since we’re in Chicago…there is no isolated cabin.

Thank you to my sweet friend @80ssong for the beta! 😘

word count: 4,952

ao3 | ml

consensus ad idem [noun] - an agreement of parties to the same thing or a meeting of minds

“Well, folks, this morning, we expected a couple of inches of snow with this front. But, as it moved in and combined with the lake-effect snow from the north, we’ve seen it dump two feet of snow, combined with high winds. We can expect to see another foot before it moves out of the city.” You turn up the TV volume as the weatherman continues his update on the snowstorm you’ve been watching from your office window. It’s been coming down for the past few hours, and the snow looks heavy, with big fat flakes falling. The weatherman continues, “Roads are impassable, and it will be a while before the snow plows can begin clearing. Out of caution, the Chicago Transit Authority has ceased all operations. We’re in for a long night; it’s time to hunker down.”

Shit. You were planning a long night of case prep but didn’t anticipate getting stuck in the office when you left your condo this morning. You love snowstorms but prefer to enjoy them from the comfort of your home cozied up in your flannel PJs, a warm fire, and a glass of wine. Unfortunately or perhaps fortunately, you must ride out the storm here, in the State’s Attorney Office. You’ve been preparing for a case that heads to trial in two days with your fellow Assistant State’s Attorney, Nathan Landry. It’s crunch time.

You exit your office to find Nathan. As you reach the conference room with the door ajar, you notice files strewn across the table and spot Nathan behind a short stack of banker’s boxes, pouring over evidence. His jaw tensed in concentration. With a soft knock, you open the door further and question, “Have you heard the latest news on the storm?”

Your breath hitches when he looks up at you. God, he’s so beautiful—plush lips, sharp nose, warm brown eyes, a clean-shaven angled jawline that could cut glass. “No, I haven’t. I’ve been nose-deep looking over these case files.” He looks over his shoulder toward the window and has trouble seeing the building next door through the wall of white. “Oh, wow! It is coming down, huh?”

“Yeah, they said two feet have already fallen and to expect another foot before it’s over. They’ve shut down the train lines and buses. It looks like we’re stuck here for the night.”

Given the forecast this morning, you only left your house in a quilted down coat over a silk blouse, knee-length pencil skirt, tights, and heels. What a difference 12 hours can make. You were not making it back home in this, even walking. Nathan was equally unprepared for a storm dropping up to three feet of snow. Resigned that his late night would turn into an all-nighter, he sighed, “Yeah, it looks that way.”

Nervousness and excitement swirl in your stomach at the thought of a night with Nathan. You’ve harbored a crush on him but have been cautious about blurring the professional lines. No power dynamic is at play since you both are at the same level. He has some seniority, but only because he arrived at this office a year before you.

You feel your stomach grumble and look at the clock on the wall; it’s already 8:30. You realize you haven’t eaten anything since lunch since you were so distracted by work. Food delivery is out of the question, so it’s time to get creative. You ask Nathan if he has eaten anything. Only then does he realize how hungry he is.

“No, and I’m starving. It doesn’t look like we’ll have any luck ordering delivery in this mess.”

You nod. “In the mood for a little field trip?”

Nathan’s eyebrow quirks, “What did you have in mind?”

Heading out the door, you look over your shoulder, “Follow me.”

Nathan follows you out of the main office and into the quiet corridor of the justice building. He’s mesmerized by the cacophony of your heels clicking on the tile floor, echoing through the empty hall. It's so late that the cleaning staff has already left. They were fortunate enough to get home before the snow picked up. You’re a few steps ahead of Nathan, and he watches your hips sway, your ass shaped nicely in your tight pencil skirt. His eyes trail down to gaze admiringly at your legs. He isn’t sure how he’s managed to work with you the last few years, and things haven’t progressed beyond a professional relationship. You’re brilliant, witty, and gorgeous—a total package. He’s hesitated to cross any lines, but he has caught you staring at him a few times. You seem interested in him as more than a colleague. When you shared the storm update, he had to conceal his excitement that he’d be alone with you in the office for the night. He had to remind himself that the focus was the case, the clock was ticking, and he needed to find the “smoking gun” to secure a win.

You meander down a few more hallways until you finally reach your destination, “here we are!”

Metal coils hold colorful packages in place under fluorescent lighting behind plexiglass with a backlit alphanumeric keypad on the side. You both need to eat, so a makeshift dinner from the vending machines will have to suffice. Nathan stares at you, “The last time I had a dinner like this was when I would pull all-nighters, studying in the campus library.”

You chuckle and imagine a young Nathan Landry, wondering if he had always been this handsome or if he had an awkward phase like everyone else had to suffer through. Did he always have a nose in the book, or could he let loose and have fun? Hopefully, you’ll find out tonight. You each pick out a few of your favorite snacks and return to the office.

Nathan has an idea. “Glenn has a liquor cabinet in his office. Do you want something to drink?” he asks as you walk through the door to the office.

“Um, yeah! I’ll need something to wash down these chips.” You follow Nathan into Glenn’s office and look over your options. Nathan looks at you expectantly. “I’ll take a whiskey, neat!”

“A woman who knows how to take her whiskey.” Nathan grins, “I like that.”

You feel your face get warm at Nathan’s approval. He pours two glasses and hands you yours. “To all-nighters!” you cheer as you clink the glasses together.

Back in the conference room, the table is covered with snacks haphazardly. You munch on your chips as you read over the documents before you. You sneak glances while Nathan focuses on what’s in front of him, reading through the information thoroughly to avoid missing critical details. Sometimes, your glances linger for too long, admiring his forearms exposed by the rolled-up sleeves of his crisp white button-up. You try not to focus too long on the dip in his neck and the moles that dot along the top of his sternum, visible thanks to the unbuttoned top buttons and loosened necktie. His head subtly moves, and you turn away quickly before he looks up and catches you.

Nathan admires you from across the table, in awe of your focus and work ethic. You’ve spent a ton of time with him working on this case, burning the candle at both ends. But you’ve never let up, knowing how important it is for the office to win this case.

“I think I found something!” you swiftly push out of your chair and move to the other side of the table, throwing the highlighted document in front of Nathan.

You lean over the table and point to the information you found. Nathan admires your red lacquered nails and wonders if your toenails match. He inhales your scent, a floral, citrusy perfume, and feels his cock twitch. He tries to ignore it by shifting his attention to what you’re saying. You’re animated in your explanation, pointing out the different facts and how they connect the dots in the case, which could lead to the “smoking gun” you both have been after. While you’re speaking, his eyes drift down your neck to the collar of your blouse, giving him the slightest peek at your lacy red bra strap. Now he’s confident that your toenails are the same red as your nails. He lets out a quiet exhale. He realizes it wasn’t as quiet as he thought when your attention turns to him, your eyes piercing into his. Busted.

The conference room began to feel like a furnace with the intensity of your stares, completely contrasting with the bitter cold outside. Tension continues to build, and if this room was smaller, you imagine the condensation would be dripping down the windows, like the arousal dripping in your panties. You never thought the attraction you had toward Nathan was reciprocal. Reaching a fever pitch now, you lean in closer, taking a chance to see if this is real or just a dream. Without taking his eyes off you, Nathan licks his lips as he follows your lead and leans in. Your lips are almost touching when his eyes sweep down to your lips and back to your eyes, seeking permission to close the gap. Without hesitation, you grant it and seal your lips to his. It is intense as electricity courses through your veins. The swirl in your stomach builds as he gains entrance past your lips with his tongue. His hands move to pull you in closer, tenderly gripping your jaw, fingertips tangled in the hair at the base of your neck—an exchange of soft moans and grunts of approval bounce between you. Nathan sucks your bottom lip in between his, and you feel a soft bite to your lip, which shakes you out of your trance.

You straighten up, a light cough to clear your throat and the air. Your steps falter as you back away from Nathan. A mix of embarrassment, awkwardness, and arousal hangs in the air. Neither of you can make eye contact. After what feels like an eternity, but only a minute has passed, Nathan finally breaks the silence. “Umm, I’m not sure what came over me. I’m sorry about that. We should probably get back to the case.”

Sheepishly, you nod in agreement. “Yeah, you’re right. That was unprofessional.”

You return to your chair on the other side of the table. To avoid overthinking the situation, you focus on the file folders before you. Did he think it was a mistake? Was he ashamed? Is it going to always be awkward with him now? You realize your efforts are futile, and the room is beginning to feel too small, so you excuse yourself and tell Nathan you’ll be in the file room. You need to get out, overwhelmed with the need to breathe a different air. He looks at you remorsefully and nods.

Nathan watches as you exit the conference room. A wave of guilt rushes over him. He crossed a line with you, but he’s unsure how he can resolve this. He doesn’t know if you were uncomfortable. Did you regret the kiss? You both work well together, and he will regret it if this changes things between you. The internal debate on how he can fix this continues to wage war in his mind. He needs to concentrate on the case and steel himself with a renewed focus as he returns to his work.

—

Over the next half hour, he sorts through dozens of files, highlighting key details and noting dates and times of communications to create a timeline of events. He pulls another file out of the bankers box in front of him, flips the folder open, and there it is! Right there in the first paragraph is the evidence that connects all of the other pieces of the puzzle in this case. It’s the missing piece that will undoubtedly seal a win. Nathan cannot contain the smile on his face and looks up, excited to share the news with you, only to find your chair empty. He hadn’t realized you hadn’t returned from the file room. He quickly gets up and jogs down the hall to find you.

“I FOUND IT! We got them! This is it!”

You turn around when you hear Nathan’s voice echo through the empty office, stunned and confused. You can’t recall ever seeing this level of excitement from Nathan. He’s always composed and stoic, and his facial expressions are hard to read. His gait doesn’t slow down as he approaches you near the shelving unit, and you let out a surprised gasp when he wraps his arms around you, the file folder he’s gripping pressed against your back. Nathan awkwardly pulls away when he realizes he got carried away, creating another uncomfortable moment for you. Shaking his head in embarrassment, he apologizes. He clears his throat and opens the file to show you what he found, and your eyes widen.

“Holy shit, Nathan! You found it?!” you exclaim as you playfully smack his bicep.

He looks up at you and smiles. A rush of pride courses through him, and how you look at him is overwhelming. A surge of confidence takes over, and he pushes you up against the bookshelves, the file folder tossed to the floor, and brackets you between his strong arms, gripping the shelf. He presses his body against you and kisses you. This kiss is more urgent, more heated than the one in the conference room. It’s more assured. You respond with a whimper, which encourages Nathan to keep going. One of his hands moves down your body, caressing your neck. The tips of his fingers tease your collarbone underneath your blouse’s neckline, navigating down the side of your breast to your waist and down your hips to grip your ass. A moan exits your lips this time, your body overwhelmed by the feel of him so close to you. Nathan’s hand continues its exploration down your thigh, moving closer to the hem of your skirt until he finds it. He shifts his hand underneath, bunching up your skirt to your hips. Your tights are hindering his access to your core. On impulse, he rips them open at the crease where your thigh and hips meet. His lips consume your shocked yelp, having never left yours during his expedition. Pleased with your response, he resumes his journey, anxious to find what awaits him. When his fingers approach your panties, he notices the red lace. Of course, your panties would match your bra. You are driving him crazy with this matching lingerie set. He slides the gusset of your panties to the side, and his finger slides through your wet seam, trailing up to gently stroke your clit. Your head tilts back and hits the shelf behind you. But you’re so flooded with pleasure that you don’t even notice the slight pain. Nathan continues to tease your entrance until you beg, your pussy pulsating with need.

“Nathan, please, I need more.”

“Tell me what you need, sweet thing.”

You pant out, “Y-your fingers, Nathan…”

Before you can even finish your sentence, you feel his thick finger breach your entrance. He slides in easily through your drenched folds. With his index finger inside you, his thumb begins to circle your clit, alternating touches of light and hard pressure. A groan emits from you as his other hand tangles in the hair at the back of your head. He gently tugs your head back to give him better access to your neck. His lips leave a trail of soft kisses until they reach the sensitive area between your neck and shoulder. You yelp when you feel his teeth bare down with an intense but gentle pressure. His tongue lathes over the area to soothe the tiny indents he left on your skin. You release a contented sigh as his finger continues its endeavor inside your pussy. Bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“How’re you doing, pretty girl?”

“I…” you let out a gasp, “...one more…please?!” in a lustfilled plea.

“I’ve got you,” a light peck on your lips, “I’ll give you one more.” You nod your thanks.

When you feel his second finger enter you, the blissful stretch lifts you onto your tip toes. He reaches that spot, and you’re about to combust. You feel yourself plunge toward your release and let out a cry. Unable to hold back any longer. Inhibitions be damned.

Nathan pulls out his fingers from your warmth and laps up your juices. A smug smirk appears on his face. He smacks his lips and shakes his head in disbelief, “Absolutely, incredible.”

He leans forward and kisses you on your cheek as he lifts the hem of your skirt further up to your waist. You look at him questionably, “What are you doing?”

He winks at you as he slips his fingers into the waistband of your tights. Locked with your gaze, he pulls them down slowly, his fingers brushing down your thighs to your calves and relishing the feel of your soft skin. When he gets to your feet, he lifts one leg to remove the heel slowly and pulls the tights away from your foot, uncovering your toes. Mystery solved. Red. His head rolls back with a huff. “I fucking knew it!”

“You knew what?”

“That your toenails would match your fingernails.” he tuts.

You laugh with a wink, “Sure do! Need to coordinate with my bra and panties.”

Nathan groans while he removes your other heel and the rest of your tights. He makes his way back up your body, slowly kissing up your bare thighs, his lips making their way back to your center. He moves the gusset of your panties back into place and places a sweet kiss on your clothed mound. You whimper, unable to handle the overstimulation. He stands up and shifts the hem of your skirt down. Face to face again, you lean forward and kiss his nose, moving to kiss each cheek and place a chaste kiss on his lips. “Thank you, handsome. That was incredible…”

You grab the loose tie around his neck and gently pull him to follow, “...but we have to get back to work.”

—

An hour has passed since the file room, and you and Nathan have been constructing your opening argument in the conference room. You have a strong and easily winnable case with the newly discovered evidence, but that doesn’t hinder your drive to ensure it’s rock solid. You exchange glances and smiles while you work, but it doesn’t go further. It was a good idea to remain on opposite sides of the table. It was a deterrent, but it wouldn't be for much longer.

It was the final glance from Nathan that lingered a bit too long and led to lust-filled eyes that sauntered over to his side of the table. You kick your heels off and shimmy the hem of your skirt up to your waist. Hiking your legs over his lap, you straddle Nathan in his chair. Pressing your hands to his chest, you lean in for a kiss as you shift your hips further up his lap until you feel his semi-hard cock through the fabric. He moves his meaty palms to your ass and encourages you to move back and forth. You silence each other's moans, grunts, and whimpers through heated kissing. He rips open your blouse, buttons bouncing across the conference room table. When he sees your tits confined in red lace, a groan tumbles out of his mouth. He leans forward to suck on each of your nipples through the lace, and another moan escapes you. He takes a beat and pulls down the cups of your bra, palming your breasts appreciatively before taking a nipple in his mouth. The continued soft caress of the massage, combined with the rough bite of your nipples, sent your mind into a tailspin. You feel arousal pool again in your panties as you continue to grind over Nathan’s incredibly hard cock.

“Sweet thing..” he swiftly stands up while you’re still in his lap, and you fumble to your feet. He moves so quickly you’re barely able to process that he’s turned you around and bent you over the table. Your peaked nipples pressed against the cool wood table. He stares sinfully at your bare ass cheeks and gives them a swat with both palms. You squeal in delight and feel another rush of arousal in your panties. He kneels, your clothed cunt centimeters from his nose, inhales, and finishes his thought, “...I need to taste you again.”

You gasp when he pulls off your panties. Your wet pussy is staring back at Nathan. He lasciviously licks his lips, grabs hold of the front of your thighs, and slams his face into your pussy. Lapping up your juices, he flattens his tongue through your folds. He latches onto your nub and begins to suck. You let out a wail in ecstasy as he alternates between sucking and flicking your clit with his tongue, and you reach behind to grab the back of his head and push him closer to your center. He groans into your pussy, and a throbbing sensation courses through your veins. A second orgasm edges closer as he continues his pursuit, desperate for you to come another time for him. You feel the coil in your belly lengthen until it becomes too much and finally snaps. You cry out at your release, and Nathan laps it up, careful not to miss a drop. He stands up and leans over your body for a bruising kiss. Fully sated, you stare at him dreamily, “I need you inside me, Nathan…NOW!”

Nathan begins to loosen his belt as he stands upright. His hard cock has been straining against the fabric of his dress pants, and he’s desperate for relief. He unfastens his pants with one quick motion and pulls them down his thighs along with his boxer briefs. In his eagerness to get inside you, he doesn’t even bother to pull his pants down all the way, leaving only his ass cheeks exposed. He swipes his fingers through your folds and, with a few strokes of his cock covers it in your arousal. Nathan leans forward and whispers in your ear, “You ready, pretty girl?”

“YES! Fuck me, Nathan!”

He lines up at your entrance. Teasing your opening with the head of his cock. Not willing to waste a moment longer, he pushes his cock into you. You feel incredible, even better than his imagination. He finds a steady pace, savoring your warmth and softness, committing this moment to memory. His tie is still loose around his neck, and he pulls your arms behind your back and whips the tie through his shirt collar. He loosely ties a knot around your wrists and uses it as leverage to begin a faster, more unrelenting pace. His hips slap into your ass as he pounds into you. With your cheek pressed against the mahogany, your arousal grows and drips down your thighs. You’ve never felt so full. His cock reaching areas your dildo could only dream of.

Your pussy pulsates around him, and he revels in the feel of your tight wet walls as he spears in and out. A hand whizzes through the air, and its palm lands on your right cheek, causing you to jolt forward. He grabs the tie around your wrists and pulls you tighter to him to match his thrust.

He growls, “I’m going to think about you bent over this table, my cock deep inside your pussy…every time I’m in here for a depo.”

You whimper at his admission. His thrusts become more erratic, and you can sense he’s close. It’s killing you that you’re unable to reach your clit because your hands are literally, tied. Seeking that last touch you crave to push you over the precipice, you beg Nathan for relief.

“Nathan, please touch me…” you gasp out.

“Where do you need me, sweetheart?”

You gasp out between his thrusts, one word at a time, “On…my…clit.”

He reaches around your waist to find your bundle of nerves and provides just enough pressure. He whispers in your ear between thrusts, “Come on, pretty girl…let me have just one more. You can do it.” Between the ministrations of your clit and his encouragement, the dam finally breaks. A scream of pleasure escapes your lips as your body radiates through its release.

“That’s a good girl.” He pulls you up by your tied wrists, your back pressed against his chest, and plants a kiss on your cheek. “Now, where do you want me?” he whispers.

Breathless, you whimper, “Inside. I want you inside me.”

That’s all he needs to hear. His release begins to flood your walls as he pounds into you with his final thrusts. He lets loose a loud “FUCK!” before he collapses over you, laying soft kisses along your bare shoulder and cheek.

Quickened breaths slow to a regular tempo, and you feel Nathan shift to get up. He pulls out from you and smiles with pride as he watches his release drip out of you. He smacks your ass and grabs a handful of your cheek, and then bends over to bite the other one. A squeal of delight breaks out, and you watch Nathan pull up his pants without fastening them to walk out of the room toward the bathroom. You don’t dare move from where he left you, not confident you could stand without falling over.

He returns with a warm, damp cloth. Smiling at your blissed out form, he moves closer and gently runs the cloth through your sensitive folds, cleaning up his mess. You sigh happily as he lifts you and unties his necktie from your wrists. He turns you around to face him and pulls up the lace cups of your bra while you shimmy your skirt back down. When he grips the collar of your blouse to begin buttoning it back up, he chuckles and realizes he’s ruined your top. “Well, it looks like I owe you a new shirt.”

You look at him with an exaggerated pout and scoff, “Well, damn. I liked this one, too.”

He pats the side of your hip and inches closer. With hot breath against your ear, he whispers, “I’ll make it up to you.”

A shiver runs up your spine, thrilled to confirm this won’t just be a one time thing.

—

The low hum of the vacuum cleaner outside the door wakes you up. You find yourself between the back of the couch and Nathan and smile at how safe you feel in his arms. You’re not surprised you don’t recall relocating to his office from the conference room, with how fucked out you were last night. It’s time to get up and fast before anyone catches you two in this compromising position. You shove Nathan awake and tell him he needs to get dressed. He groggily gets off of the couch and helps you up. Grunts and “ows” are exchanged as you feel the consequences of falling asleep in an unnatural, cramped position.

You sneak out of his office to grab a change of clothes from yours. When you return, clothes in hand, you quickly shut the door behind you. Hoping no one saw you. You change your clothes under Nathan’s admiring eye, watching you undress and taking in your soft form highlighted in red lace. He lets out a low whistle and smiles when you blush.

Both of you are now freshly dressed. He approaches and rests his hands on the side of your arms. “How are you feeling?”

Your cheeks bloom as a smile appears, “I feel great, aside from the crick in my neck. You?”

“Same,” he responds with a smile so wide his eyes disappear. “Listen, would you want to get breakfast and talk?” he asks.

“Yes, I’d love to. We’ve got a couple of hours before we need to be in court.”

He smiles and leans forward to kiss your forehead. Nathan is thankful he’ll have an opportunity to talk with you about the future of this now unprofessional relationship. You grab your coats, and he holds the door open for you, gently pushing you forward with his hand on the small of your back, his pinky finger touching the top of your ass. When you both see Glenn coming down the main hallway, he quickly pulls his arm away. You look at him, a silent agreement to keep this budding relationship under wraps for now.

Glenn greets you both, “Did you both get stuck in here all night with that storm?” You nod in unison.

Glenn chuffs, “Well, I hope you spent the time wisely and got a lot done.”

You must consciously avoid Nathan’s gaze when you reply, “We sure did! We have something to show you when we get back from breakfast. After surviving on the vending machine snacks last night, we're ready for a substantial meal.”

With that, you and Nathan retreat down the hall and out of the building onto the bustling sidewalk. As soon as the glass doors close, you both burst into laughter. Once you’ve both caught your breath and composure, you walk side by side toward your favorite diner in the city. Steps in stride, you feel Nathan’s fingertips brush against you before he slides his fingers between yours. He looks over to see a smile creeping over your face, and his heart skips a beat at how happy you look, knowing he’s the one who put it there.

Thank you for reading! I'd love to know what you think. Reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. 🫶🏻