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luvmila444 · 1 year ago

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SWEET RELIEF - C.S

…………………………………………….. ☆ ★ ………………………………………………

Chris sturniolo x fmreader

summary: Chris can’t help but get a bit worked up while on a tutoring study call with you, when you realise what he’s doing, you only pushing him further to the edge.

content warning: male masturbtion; dirty thoughts; praise kink

word count: 2.8k

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Chris was a little embarrassed with how fast he had picked up the phone call from you, not to mention the blush that had spread across his cheeks and his quickly paced heartbeat when he heard your sweet voice ring through the speakers.

“Hey, Chris!” You smiled as you spread your small pile of assessments and study papers across your desk to get yourself prepared. This had been a regular thing on Wednesdays and Saturdays for the past two months. You guys would set up a phone call together as you would help him study as Chris was falling behind in class…a lot. You guys had to do it over the phone as both houses were always so busy due to Chris’s brothers and your family always occupying your living spaces, making it difficult to have privacy and quiet to help him focus and bring his grades up. Therefore, you resulted in two easy phone calls across the week, which Chris always enjoyed a little too much.

Chris loved that you could never see him and what he was doing at the sound of your voice over the phone. The sweet ring of it through the speakers. The way you ramble so passionately about the work. Yeah… he definitely liked having the privacy of his room for these calls more then he’d like to admit. Although he can never help but imagine what you looked like, what you were doing. Fuck… he’s been on the call for no more than ten second and he’s already getting himself worked up.

“Chris…?” He heard you voice agin. Fuck that voice.

“Yeah... I’m here, hey y/n.” He couldn’t help the smile that rose onto his lips hearing hear giggle at his slow usual response.

“Okay well glad you're here,” you say readying the paper you had recently got giving by your teacher, on to the top of the pill of books you had been working on, “why don’t you fine the paper that mr Hudson gave us today and we will work through that one today, yeah?” You say cutely but trying not to talk so fast so Chris could take in the information.

“Yeah, yeah sure…” he buries his way through his overflowing piles of unfinished homework to find the paper that was given to him today by his teacher “why did he give us the paper today, anyway?” Chris huffs, flipping to the first page that you wanted to start working on.

“I have no idea, it’s not like we don’t already get enough work given to us on Mondays and Fridays, but now on Wednesdays too? It’s getting a bit intense at this point!”

Chris hums in agreement, loving the way you get worked up about things. However, once you were done with your small rant, you let out a sign that was so quiet only the most observant person would notice it, lucky for you, Chris was that person. As you made the noise Chris felt a familiar warm feeling in his lower stomach, just imagining you making that noise in a very different scenario…

“Did you see jenny today?” You interrupted his quickly drifting dirty thought, referring to girl who passes every class, not using her smarts but her body instead, fucking her way to good grades.

“No, why? What was she doing this time?” Chris asked slowly, trying to calm his erratic heartbeat and suppress his dirty thought of you.

“Woah I’m surprised you didn’t see her! She was practically pushing her tits out of her very tiny top to try and get out of this paper…. practically had all the guys drooling,” you huffed. You’d always been quite jealous of Jennifer. She could literally get any guy she wanted and could always get out of these stupid papers. It was irritating to people like you who tried their very hardest in their schoolwork and seem to go zero appreciation for it, when all jenny does is gossip, do her obnoxiously babyish laugh and pop a tit, therefore having the whole classroom wrapped around her finger. It was pathetic.

“Nah, guess i don’t really care that much about her,” Chris was very aware of Jenny’s usual inappropriate behaviour, yet he couldn’t pull his eyes away from you all through that class. He was sat near the back of the class, so he had a good view of his surroundings and could easily see you sat a few rows in-front of him, at the perfect angle so her couple see you left side perfectly. Chris simply couldn’t understand how anyone could pay attention in that class knowing that you were in there, not jenny but you.

Your short denim mini shirt that accentuated you ass and hips so perfectly and highlighting your legs. However, to keep yourself warmer and seem more modest, you through a knitted sweater over the top, making Chris’s eager to rip it off and see what you hid beneath the layers of warm wear. God, if there was nobody else in that classroom, he would not hesitate you lift you up on the desk and kiss up your legs to your perfect thighs and up your body. He would make sure to take perfect care of you, bring his lips underneath your sweater and bring his hand to you perfectly round and covered tits.

Full, he could barely take it anymore. He could feel his harder member quickly growing underneath his get sweats, but he didn’t want to stop. No… he couldn’t stop himself.

“Huh, thats surprising, i could’ve sworn that the guys next to me literally had dribble on his chin, it was crazy.” You laughed.

Fuck that laugh. Chris brought his hand up to his crotch and felt where he had grown harder just thinking of you. He began to palm himself, trying to relieve the growing soreness between his legs.

"We should get started now." You unintentionally break his train of thought, as he gulps, silently cursing at himself. "Because I you barely understood what was going on it that class."

"Uh, yeah." Chris coughed, forcing himself to focus. "What did you want to start with?"

You voice begins to drift into an explanation of what was said at the beginning of the class, only worded in a simpler way, yet Chris could barely take in any of this information. You speak so innocently, brows furrowed, as Chris furrows his own for an entirely different reason.

He continues to palm his dick through his pants while your voice was sending small electric jolts through him. All the way down to his dick, which has begun to strain painfully against his pants beneath his hand. Christ, i can’t actually be doing this right now-he thinks to himself. He licked his lips, quickly responding to what you were saying with a hum and an "ah, that makes makes more sense."

Chris doesn't mean to drown out your words. Because he's listening. But more so to the hilt of your voice, and how it would sound much breathier, as you gazed up at him. One of his fantasies had you on your knees, teasingly licking at his cock, as your devious eyes held his. He had orgasmed extremely quickly, multiple times, when he found this imagine in his head.

“So thats basically the first part,” you continued to explain, unaware and completely oblivious to Chris’s hand rubbing at himself on the other end of the line.

He won’t do more. He can’t, this is just so wrong of him Just…relieve a hint of tension. You continued to speak, and your words began to sound like something he wished he could grab, as his hand tightened on his bulge, his rubbing growing messy. His breathing had grown heavier, but he covered it up by saying ‘yes’s and ‘no’s, answering your questions.

“Sorry, I’m rambling. Did you have any questions?” You ask, feeling as if Chris wasn’t getting everything he needed out of your words. He had to spare a glance at his incomplete work, scanning to see if he’d written down any problems, trying to remember if he had any. Because the only problem he could think of right now is how his over-the-clothes rubbing was doing little to satisfy his need.

His cock was now rock hard, it was torturous. His mind began to glaze over with lustful thought of you “I—I don’t think so.” He mutters out, his fingers reaching into the waistband of his sweats and briefs, pulling his cock, which was now leaking with drops of pre-cum and the tip was a bright rosy, red, much like his cheeks.

He imagined the way you would touch him. Would you be gentle and slow, or would you edge him and make sure he’s extremely overstimulated as you milk him dry. Chris’s breathing stutters as he strokes himself. The little hums you make when you think have begun to make his hips thrust up into his palm. His other hand had tightened around the sheet, praying that you can’t hear him jerking off to you. Chris becomes lost in your tone as his cock twitches.

“Chris?” You slowly ask, making his hips jolt at the utterance of his name from your lips, but he tries to keep his voice of some composure.

“Yeah?” He had to press his lips together after a needy whimper nearly falling.

“Are you…okay?”

Your question makes him halt, much to his cock’s dismay. “W-what?”

“You sound… i don’t know, out of breath?” You say, behind the line trying to think of why.

“Really, you think?” He hums with a small smirk on his face enjoying the uncertainty in your tone and how innocent you mind must have been. You nod to yourself, but then you catch the smallest of sounds fall straight from Chris’s lips. You had to be mistaken, as it had almost sounded like one full of pleasure that could have only been as a result of one thing...

Your mouth opened in shock as you realise. He’s out of breath because he’s…

“Chris.” You say again, hearing a stuttering whimper from him before he tries to cover it up by asking ‘yes?’ again.

“What are you doing?”

Chris curses himself because you sound suspicious. “I’m studying obviously. Being tutored s-so well... by you.” He says, really forcing down his cock’s wanting to just ask you to keep talking so he could reach his orgasm, attempting to stop himself from stuttering his words, but he just couldn’t help it.

“You’re sure you’re good?” You asked unconvinced, as a small smirk rose to your lips.

“No. No, I’m all good, i swear.” He says, really forcing his words to sound normal, as he had slowly begun to stroke himself again, his cock angry.

“Ah huh, yeah…okay,” you knew what you were going to do, this was going to be fun. “Did i tell you how good you looked today?”

Chris’s eyes opened, looking at his phone slightly trying to keep a steady pace of his raging cock but if you were going down this road of compliments, he probably wouldn’t be able to take it much longer.

“Uh, n-no,” he stutters pathetically, somehow unaware of the game you were playing.

“Well, you did, your hair…wow. I could just run my hands through it! How do you always get it looking so soft?” You paused momentarily, hearing Chris’s surprised whimper. “Sorry thats kind of a goofy thing to say…sorry.” You were basically just teasing him now, the basic matters of the studying gone.

“I- no i don’t think its goofy. a-at all…” his words are broken up by that heaving panting.

“God. really? You’re so sweet chris…wow,” You hum, making Chris’s hips thrust up into his hand, his legs having widened as you spoke.

“R-really?” His eyelids began to feel heavy again, wanted nothing more but to see the darkness and use it as a canvas to paint his dirty images of you in his mind.

“Yeah, i mean you’re the literal sweetest” you hum lightly, “you always make sure i havea seat in class, you listen to me when i speak and when i help you i study, you defend me in-front of your friends! You’re so sweet! Such a sweet, good boy for me” you were practically grinning at this point.

Chris could have sworn that your words could have sent him spiralling over the edge.“I a-am?” He asked, almost to clarify that this was real, that you were actually saying this to him.

“Well of course, and you’re always so busy as well, yet you always make time for me in your busy schedule. You must be stressed a lot of the time. I could always help you…relax sometime, relieve some of your…tension.” You had lowered your voice now in order to have a more seductive tone to your voice now.

Chris chokes on a whimper as he places his hand over his mouth, still thinking you don’t know. “My tension…?”

“I mean, yeah… i could alway give you a massage, rub you down, you know I’ve been told I am very good at giving…massages.” It was becoming blatantly obvious what you were doing now but Chris must’ve been blinded and in a lustful haze because he still seemed to be completely oblivious to what you were doing. Continuously pumping his dick eagerly and chasing his release.

The thought of you sat on top of him, rubbing all down him in order to relax him was definitely doing the opposite effect and only working him up more. Fuck. He had almost come from the thought of you taking care of him. the tone you had dropped to makes his hand quicken as his hips had begun to grind into his palm.

“You’d do that for me?” Chris whined, only imaging what else you would do for him almost sent him over the edge.

“Of course, i would baby, you would tell me where it feels good before i drag my hands down your body…” Chris let out a pathetic whimper at not only the simple thought but at the nickname as well. Baby? Baby??! Oh, my lord he was going absolutely feral at this point, “however, through your clothes it mind be hard to properly get that tension out.”

Chris moans through his teeth, as his hips pathetically thrust at your words. “No clothes?”

“No clothes.” You confirm. “Would that be, okay? I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable— “

“Yes.” His answer was immediate, cutting you short. He coughs. “That would be fine.”

You grin. “Good. Because that way I could really relieve some tension. I’d have to straddle you of course.” You pause to hear chris’s heavy breathing and the faint sound of his hand gliding along his cock. “You may even have to flip around, because I’ve heard that the most tension can be by your collarbones and neck.”

Chris nearly orgasmed at the thought of you straddling him, as your hands wandered his body. “As in straddling..my front?”

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“Uh huh.” He hums, his cock twitching with a soon need to release.

“I could give you that massage the next time we study.” You say, making chris’s breathing quicken at the possible reality of all that. “I could come over to yours.”

At this point he couldn’t care how desperate he sounded. “Yes. Please, come anytime.”

“Or maybe you should cum?” You ask, your innuendo strong, as pleasure began to rock through chris’s body.

“W—what?”

“Come to my place, i know yours is always super hectic.” You play it off, listening to the wet sounds his cock was making as you could hear how close he was to his orgasm.

“Fuck…yeah that sounds good, i-if you’re happy then s-so am i…” he was no biting his own lip so hard he could’ve sworn he was drawing some blood. He now had his back so far arched up off of his bed and was practically fucking up into his own hand.

“See, again, you are alway thinking…of me,” oh he was definitely thinking of you, thats for sure, “you are such a good boy.” And that did it. His orgasm wracked through him as quiet whimpers and moans left his lips his hips grinding into nothing. Wishing the air was you. He watched as the white strings of cum coated and stained his dark shirt.

“Fuck” he let out a relieved groan, now not even hiding the action that he had just did.

“Maybe next time we study i should just jerk you off instead,”

Chris’s eyes widened at what you had said, before realising how blatantly obvious what he was doing was. You giggled once again hearing Chris’s heavy breathes, pleased to know that it was you who had pushed him over the edge.

“Fuck, you can do whatever you want to me,” Chris let out with a deep breathe.

Oh, you certainly would…

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A/n : thank you so much for reading, this is literally my 3rd time trying to post this because I keep making mistakes 😭😭I really hope you enjoy and if there are any more mistakes pls lmk

ily my angels 💞 (especially @gamermattsgf)

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #smut #sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you

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ittybittyfanblog · 4 months ago

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Error 404: (Self-Aware!AU, Sylus Edition) – Pt. 2

Summary: A LADS self-aware!AU featuring Sylus and a–less–oblivious player. That’s it, that’s the plot. A/N: Ok, I’ve decided to make this by series, so this one’s just going to be purely Sylus. I hope nobody minds the specific names/places/etc. I wanted to create a personality for the “player” and add a bit of backstory work (loosely based on yours truly lol) for the sake of storytelling, but there won't be any distinct description of the player’s physical appearance <3 Tags: player!reader x sylus, fem!reader x sylus, reader x lads, self-aware!au, suggestive language, bouts of delusion

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2 - Pt. 3 - Pt. 4 - Pt. 5 - Pt. 6 - Pt. 7 - Pt. 8 - Pt. 9 - Pt. 10

Riiiiing– RiiiNGGGGG––

...

“Huh… whazat—?”

A shrill—earsplitting, headache-inducing, completely fucking loud—noise wakes you up rather rudely from your peaceful slumber at… Jesus Christ, what time is it?

You blink your bleary eyes open, once… twice—fuck, all you know that it’s too goddamn early for all this ruckus. Groaning, you clumsily try to find the source of the unexpected wake-up call. Quite literally in this case.

Your hand bumps the vibrating phone straight off the edge of the mattress—along with the charger cord still attached to it—and you cuss up a storm when you hear it clatter on the hardwood floor.

The ringing finally stops, and you’re perfectly content to leave it there and fall back to sleep when, not even ten seconds later, the blasted thing rings back to life, taunting you awake.

Angrily, you wrestle against the threadbare blanket wrapped around your body like a warm cocoon, pushing yourself out of bed with all the rage of a sleep-deprived insomniac who’s been up til the buttcrack of dawn to grab your—huh, relatively intact—phone off the ground, while the charger cable swings haphazardly from the weight of the power brick on its tail end.

Without checking the caller, you swipe right to answer. “What?”

“Don’t use that tone on me, young lady,” Your mother grouses on the other end of the line. “It’s almost noon! Did you just wake up?”

Barely five hours of sleep. Pinching the bridge of your nose, you shut your eyes and sigh. “No, mom. Sorry, just had a late night,” you clear your throat in an attempt to sound more composed. “What’s up?”

“Oh, dear. Is it because of work again?” Something akin to sympathy replaces the sternness in her voice, and you dread the all-too-familiar spiel that comes next. “You know, honey, there’s a job opening for a– what was it again? I have to double check, but it’s where your Auntie Helen works. You know your Auntie Helen—”

“Mom,” you interrupt, before she could go off on a tangent. “Work is fine, don’t worry. Why d’you call?”

“Should I need a reason to call my daughter who's living by her lonesome, a country away from—”

“Mom!”

“Oh, alright,” she finally relents, sounding slightly exasperated. “Were you able to book me and Jodie the roundtrip flight to Orlando? Your cousin’s wedding is barely a month away and I want all the documents ready by now, sweetie.”

Shit. “Ah— yeah. I’ll email you the flight itinerary in a bit, I’m just–” you catch sight of your protruding hamper, innocuous but an eyesore nonetheless, right by the doorway of your humble studio unit. “I mean, I just left the condo. To do errands and stuff. I’ll send the details to you when I get back home, okay?”

“Okay, honey,” she sighs. “You stay safe outside now. Don’t talk to strangers.”

“I am a perfectly responsible adult—” The call disconnects. “Hello? Great.”

You rub away the remnants of sleep from your eyes, fully aware that your day’s already started, despite your reluctance. Might as well get a head start on today’s agenda.

First thing’s first– brunch. Oh, it’s almost one. Lunch, then. I could maybe grab a hotdog from the corner store before heading to Landers. Oh wait, laundry. Gotta pass by the laundromat downstairs, too. Ugh, c’mon, chop-chop.

Just as you’re about to stand up from your supine position on the floor, another ping! pulls your attention back to your phone. “Mom, I swear–”

Ah, you’re finally awake. You’ve had a very long night, kitten. Take it easy for the day – make sure to get enough rest between errands.

I’ll know if you don’t.

Your heart skips a beat.

Oh! Um. That’s… new.

… Apparently another one on the growing list of “new features” from the latest update. It doesn't sound like an invitation for you to open the game, strangely enough. It's not a call to action to claim your daily stamina, nor a prompt for you to check your Galaxy Explorer rewards.

It’s nothing more than a greeting, really. Just one that’s particularly targeted at you, with unnerving accuracy.

You recall the weird (?) events from last night, and the now-erratic beating of your heart suddenly picks up a notch. From the unexpected dialogues to the outrageous amount of dias you’ve somehow ended up with—something you still think is some kind of glitch in the system—you can’t shake the feeling that you’re living out the plot of a Black Mirror episode, as fucking dumb as that sounds.

Not to mention during Quality Time, Sylus_v2.0 (as you so lovingly dub this version of him in your mind) had been acting more aware of you.

And you’re not talking about the pre-programmed glances that you usually get. No– it’s like he actually hears you.

He doesn’t say anything. But whenever you make a comment, or utter something under your breath, he reacts with a huff or a hum—depending on the context. If it’s a slew of expletives aimed at your boss, the reaction you’re met with is one of amusement. A snort; sometimes a quiet laugh, if you’re lucky. When you say something self-deprecating, however, it elicits the heavier sighs, the sharp clicks of the tongue.

At one point, you heard him make a low sound of dissent, something close to a... growl, almost, after making a casual joke about being just another cog in the machine and how offing yourself wouldn’t really matter in the grand scheme of late capitalism. As you oft do.

Your eyes met, and for a split second, it felt like you weren’t looking at just pixels. His gaze weighed heavy on you—almost accusatory.

It made you feel… naked, somehow. Perceived.

You recall how quickly you averted your eyes from his, face flushing hotly from a feeling you couldn’t put into words.

Bone-tired from last night’s (morning) overtime, you didn’t have the time to look up the news on this recent version update—although you really don’t remember any notifications in-game—so you quickly Google, “sylus acting sentient in rcent update loveamd Deepspace???” on your phone browser.

You scroll down for a bit, but none of the search results yield any relevancy, nor are they in any way similar to your current… predicament.

(Okay, so calling it a predicament is a little unfair. You’re not exactly complaining about anything per se. No complaints from you. At all.)

Deciding that you’d do a deeper dive on Twitter (X) at a later time instead—probably tonight when you do your daily login—you briefly press the side button to lock your phone… not without a final peek at the banner notification from Sylus.

You press your lips together in an effort to hold back the stupid giggle bubbling up your throat.

Unfortunately, all the self-control in the world can’t help you and your need to have the last word—from what even—so you ask aloud, to no one except the person you've deluded yourself into thinking is a valid recipient of your one-sided conversation:

“... Yeah? And what if I don’t?”

You’re not really waiting for a response (or were you?), but the nervous flutter in your stomach betrays the impatience you're trying to mask with casual indifference. It’s small, unassuming—but there.

Impatient for what, exactly, you’re not sure. But maybe, just maybe—

Feeling a bit braver now, are we? How bold. Care to say that to my face, sweetheart?

Oh.

An inhuman noise escapes your throat, embarrassingly loud, almost a keen, and you fumble with the device in your hand; the new banner notification still in full view—taunting you.

You don’t know what to think, you don’t know how to feel. You–

Spring up, like an agitated jack-in-a-box, and the sudden rush of blood in your head leaves you dizzy. You’re a molotov cocktail of emotions; one more bombshell dropped on you and you might just blow.

“I’m– later, okay? Uh,” Whew, girl, keep it together. “I need–I need to go.” You almost stumble as you speed walk towards the bathroom.

If you didn’t switch your phone to silent, didn’t make the conscious effort to ignore any incoming messages, notifications, and whatever else, in a rush to get dressed and go about your day as if it's just like any other weekend—nope, nothing unusual here—you would’ve seen one last cheeky reply:

Of course, sweetie. You take care now.

Don’t talk to strangers. X

Endnote: This one's pretty short, but I’m world-building, trust.

Thanks for reading!

#love and deepspace #lads #lnds #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #lads x you #lads x reader #love and deepspace fic #self aware au #sylus qin

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seraphicsentences · 10 months ago

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HEY! i knwo your on a break but just incase your bored could you write reader sending spicy texts2 streamer!ellie while shes on like a boss level, and then after ‘raging’ at reader for making her lose, she comes back as if the chat isnt questioning the sounds coming from the other room (silly girl forgot to mute)

hi. tumblr j deleted all my edits to this. i’m rage quitting and j posting this version i banged out in the span of 15 minutes 😀 anyways.

FUCK i’m sorry i know this took fucking forever and now i’m delivering mediocrity. loved this req either way this was smf to write. hope you enjoy sweet girl ;)

me when i disappear for a month and come back only to deliver pure dog shit. 🤪🤪

“-KID JUST GOT FUCKING DESTROYED, FUCKING BITCH.”

it was a late friday night, which meant ellie was streaming in her room, and you were supposed to be studying.

this week ellie was hosting a special in celebration of hitting 10k subscribers, and was grinding away to finally defeat Resident Evil’s final boss.

you could hear the chat dinging away with message after message, no doubt blasting ellie with compliments on her play, and the occasional comment thirsting over her hands or whatnot. it was nothing new— you’d seen the countless edits of her on your own social media page, and even had a folder of your own favorites saved away on a burner account.

“let me suck your fing- WHAT?! that is a crazy thing to say,” you could hear ellie’s shocked voice. “either way, chat, i’m married…”

“where’s my ring? UP YOUR ASS. c’mon, leave me be, guys,” ellie jokingly whined, bantering with her obsessive fanbase.

you held back a smile of your own, hand pressed to your mouth as she continued to scold the chat for their outrageously filthy messages. what a dork.

“alright alright, im muting the chat. love you guys but i gotta focus now! this is serious shit and i’m low on ammo now, hah-ha,” ellie spoke to the screen, words slightly muffled through the thin wall.

in the living room papers lay strewn across the floor, couch littered with eraser shavings and crumpled post-it notes, yourself splayed atop it all.

studying was a long-forgotten task you abandoned to instead sweep lazily through your camera roll, attempting to clear up some much needed storage.

you stopped abruptly at the thumbnail of an old video, in which depicted a downright sinful image of ellie’s bared neck for you as she arched back in pleasure.

you quite literally salivated at the veins that adorned her sweat-glistened skin, naked chest that was just covered by the play button in the center, goading you to click it.

quiet sounds of ellie’s desperate moans picked up, her head coming up look just above the camera and deliver the most pathetically fucked-out look.

“ple-ease can i cum, mommy?” she whined, voice breaking with every thrust of your fingers, wet squelching in the background a sign of her neediness.

“let me hear you, baby,” you heard yourself coo through the screen, the video becoming shaky as you picked up your pace— before suddenly ending on accident right as ellie let out a strangled whimper.

you met it with one of your own, frustrated with being left on an unfinished high, the throbbing at your core impossible to ignore.

your thighs shifted against one another, wetness pooling in your underwear as you replayed ellie’s final sound in your head over and over again.

your trance was broken by the sound of a frustrated groan coming from behind ellie’s door.

“fuck, i got it this time, i got it, swear,” she cursed as the game’s recognizable ‘revive’ audio cue played.

she could just do this again next week, right?

without a second longer of thinking, you quickly screen-shotted a clear frame from the video, shooting it ellie’s way and sending a quick text to follow.

ellie choked on her own spit as she clicked the blur away. cough- “fuck-“ wheeze- “shit-“ hack- “sorry, guys, j choked on my own saliva.”

what the fuck? what games were you trying to play?

you groaned, hearing the firing of guns continue on alongside ellie’s commentary.

sliding your panties aside, you spread your legs to display the mess between them, snapping a quick picture.

you shot back another text.

“just one more hit, one more one more one m- i- fuck,” you hear ellie stutter. “oh fuck, yep… and i’m dead, ‘kay, sorry guys just give me like 5 i’ll be back. gotta take care of something.”

you heard the slam of her headphones hitting the table and a screech of her chair sliding back against the hardwood floors.

the door swung open, the look in ellie’s eyes making your heart race with anticipation.

“hey els, good game?” you asked innocently from your position on the couch, legs crossed with your arm resting over the back.

“good game? yeah, great game actually,” she replies sarcastically, sauntering her way over to you. “you didn’t happen to need something, did you?” she asks, hopping onto the couch and quirking an eyebrow up.

“me? no…” you trail off as she leans in to brush a kiss across your lips.

“no?” she tucks your hair aside, before leaning in to whisper, “you mind spreading those pretty legs for me then, baby? i just want a look.”

“els,” you whine, attempting to catch her mouth in a kiss.

she avoids it, dipping down instead to rasp words against your racing pulse, “show me.”

you uncross your legs slowly, a damp patch darkening the very center of your shorts.

ellie grabs the leg closest to her, swiveling your body in one swift move to face her direction, placing that leg over the back of the couch as she runs her other hand up your opposing leg.

“fuck, els, i need you,” you say breathlessly, hips bucking into the air.

“let’s get these off,” she replies with a squeeze, tugging at your waistband. “wanna tell me what’s got you texting me like a slut in the middle of my stream? was it the video? my video?”

she dips her thumb into your leaking hole, swiping your arousal up in a messy circle over your aching clit.

“ah- shit! yes, fuck, y’sounded s-so pretty in it, els,” you moaned, nerves overly sensitive from the wait. “please,” you cried out, unsure of what exactly you were begging for, but you needed more.

“so fuckin’ needy,” ellie laughs under her breath, relishing in the loud groan that escapes your lips when she replaces her hand with her mouth, tongue flicking rhythmically against your swollen clit to draw out more of those pretty sounds.

“oh-oh, god, right there, so good- mmph,” you rock your hips up, hand scrambling to tug ellie’s mouth even closer to you, if possible.

mmhm she moans into your pussy, the vibrations making you jerk up as your legs clamp tightly around her head. ellie’s hands dash up immediately to shove them apart, pressing them wide open with an iron grip as she practically growls, “you asked for this. so fucking take it.”

two of her fingers slide easily into you with the next pull on your clit, and you’re arching up in a manner almost identical to ellie’s in the video, whining nonsensically.

“you’re dripping, baby,” ellie tuts, “just couldn’t wait for me, huh?”

she continues to pump her fingers deep into you, curling them on every outstroke to slide against the spot that makes you see stars.

“c’mon, cum all over my fingers,” she teases, whispering sweet praises between kitten licks to your sensitive clit.

with your head thrown back, you couldn’t help but moan her name like a fucking prayer as your walls started to tighten, legs trembling under her grasp as she worked you through your high.

“that’s it, soak my fucking fingers.”

iluvgirls_moms: THAT WAS 1000% A MOAN

elliesleftarm33: guys what the fuck is happening 😀 ellie babes, i think you forgot to mute.

ewilliamsismy_wife: did anyone else j hear ellie’s name. are the voices getting to me?

elliewsjizzfr6996: how to be ellie’s gf no glue no borax? 🥲🥲

1toesuckersslurper: NAH ITS BEEN WELL OVER 10 MIN IM OUTTA HERE

yeahhh… looks like ellie owes her subscribers a real big 10k special next week. and an apology.

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crushmeeren · 5 months ago

Note

Hi, I know you aren’t taking requests right now but I didn’t want to forget it so I’m sending it now for Whenever you open request again.

How do you think the MHA boys would react to your new mom body and “you” being unsure about it. If can be fluffy and/or NSFW

Thank you! 🙂

hi anonnie! sorry for leaving this in my inbox for so long, kinktober was a BITCH. anywho, hope you enjoy and that I included the characters you wanted!

master list link

༝ ᭝ ༝ katsuki ༝ ᭝ ༝

Katsuki’s tired. His bones ache with exhaustion, and he wears dark, bruise like marks underneath his eyes that seem to weigh a thousand pounds. The bright light of his phone screen burns his eyes when he checks for the time.

03:30 a.m.

Katsuki moves gently as he sways back and forth in the rocking chair, his three month old furnace of a son snoozing peacefully on his chest. Finally.

One hand rubs up and down his baby’s back, the other arm supporting his butt. His son babbles softly in his sleep, and Katsuki tilts his head to press a kiss to soft wisps of blonde hair, lingering to deeply inhale the scent of new baby and lavender lotion. Red eyes start to droop, the flutter of his son’s heartbeat and his constant warmth lulling Katsuki to sleep.

His head jerks up with a start, desperately trying to stay awake, and so he rises to his feet, sweatpants falling a bit lower on his hips. With a quietness he’s never possessed before, Katsuki delicately lays his baby down without waking him. He pauses in the doorway, smiling tenderly in the direction of the crib before padding to your bedroom.

Katsuki’s ears perk when muffled sniffling greets him. Alarm bells ring in his head and he all but leaps into the bed, yanking the covers down to stare at you with wide eyes. The soft light of your bedside lamp exposes your tear stricken cheeks.

His stomach drops and then he’s crowding you, shoving himself into your personal space. “Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?” He asks gingerly, brows furrowing as stretches his tank top to wipe your tears away.

Your lower lip wobbles when you bite down on it, and you launch yourself into Katsuki’s chest, knocking him onto his back with an “oof.” You shove your face into the side of his throat, arms curling as you cling to him.

“I can’t stand the way I look!” You sob, lips tickling his skin as you speak. Katsuki wraps you up in a tight hug, heart continuously splintering with each one of your labored sobs. “I love our son, so much, but looking in the mirror hurts.”

“Oh baby.” Katsuki’s voice cracks, firm hands framing your wet cheeks and guiding you to your elbows. He needs you to see the serious look his eyes. “Change is hard, but change is so fuckin’ good. You may not look exactly the same as before, but there’s not a damn thing wrong with that. You created our fuckin’ son. There’s nothin’ more beautiful to me in this world than that.” There are stars in his eyes as he gazes at you, cementing his belief in his own words.

Your expression crumples and you collapse onto his chest, soaking his shirt in tears as you hug him. “You promise?” You sniffle, tone a bit more hopeful than before.

“I swear on my fuckin’ life.” Katsuki secures you in his hold and rolls the two of you, hovering on one elbow as he pushes loose hair off your forehead. “Please, will you let me show you?”

The flush on your face forces a familiar honeyed heat to pool low in Katsuki’s belly, your sheepish nod all the permission he needs.

You gasp softly when his fingers slip your panties to the side, fingers barely touching your clit. It’s effortless for him to fill you completely with his thick cock, to press sweet words into your throat as he makes love to you. His chest is sticky with sweat, and you can’t get enough of the way he whines high pitched each time your pleasure overwhelms you and your pussy squeezes him.

Katsuki quite literally shows you how beautiful you are to him, and when you’re cradled on his chest afterwards, you start to believe that you are.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

༝ ᭝ ༝ shouto ༝ ᭝ ༝

“Will you shower with me?”

The lingering memories of warm water raining down on his skin, steam curling up into the air and your naked body run across Shouto’s mind. You raise an eyebrow in return, lifting your daughter from her high chair when she reaches for you.

“I don’t know, Sho.” Your gaze flickers to the side, avoiding direct eye contact. Shouto’s brows pinch together, frowning at your uncharacteristically shy response.

“Why?” It’s been ages since you’ve showered together. Since you’ve had sex, really. Not that he’s upset, he’s enamored with your daughter, but he misses you. A lot.

“I just don’t want to,” you say sharply, turning your back to him and walking towards your kitchen sink. Your tone doesn’t sit well with Shouto and he follows after you. He places a hand on your shoulder, hurt welling in his chest when you stiffen at his touch.

He lets his hand fall limply to his side. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. I want to understand.”

You sigh almost imperceptibly, slowly shifting to face him, and you hike your daughter further up on your hip. She giggles when she spots her daddy, little hands grabbing for him, and Shouto scoops her up with a loving smile.

“I don’t want you to see me like this,” you mutter, eyes trained on the back of your daughter’s head, softly brushing white hair behind her ears.

Shouto blinks a few times. “What do you mean?”

“You know, with the hideous scars and all.”

“Oh.” The silence is deafening. You freeze, eyes widening as your head snaps upwards with a horrified expression. Your jaw opens and closes as you clutch his forearm in a death grip.

“Sho, no — wait, that’s not what I meant. I’m sorry—,”

“Do you believe that I’m ugly? Even with my scar?” He asks, not unkindly.

You shake your head vigorously. “No, of course not! I think you’re beautiful the way you are.”

Shouto hums, hugging your daughter tightly to his chest. She grabs his shoulders, nuzzling her face into his neck. “So what leads you to believe it’s any different for me?”

“I didn’t think of it that way,” you admit, shrugging lamely, unable to come up with an answer. Shouto wordlessly laces his free hand with yours, and after settling your baby down for the night, he ushers you to your bathroom.

There’s no need to speak when Shouto helps you strip out of your clothes, goosebumps littering your arms when the fingertips of his left hand chill involuntarily and tickle your ribs. He’s bare within the minute, leading you under the hot spray of water in the next.

Shouto walks you backwards and presses you to the cool tile of the wall, steam circling upwards and suffocating the two of you. You grasp at his slippery shoulders, tilting your head while he leaves biting kisses along your throat. Shouto traces the c-section scar along your belly as if it’s something precious, touch featherlight before guiding you to flip and brace your hands on the wall.

The initial stretch of his cock sends a shiver of heat down your spine. The humid atmosphere making everything that much slicker, that much hotter. He places his hands over your scar to steady himself and holds you close, rolling his hips steadily until you’re crying his name and pushing at his belly because it’s too much.

Shouto’s determined to show you everyday that scars are to be cherished. They’re apart of you, and not a single inch of you could ever be ugly to him.

⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣ ༝ ⇣

༝ ᭝ ༝ eijirou ༝ ᭝ ༝

It’s date night, and your fingers twitch with nerves as you finish putting up your hair. The two of you haven’t been able to go out alone for the past several months. Having a new baby is ruthless. It’s not for the weak, but you love every second of it, and you’re certain Eijirou does too.

It’s just…. You look different, now. Your body’s shifted and changed in ways you never imagined, but you wouldn’t trade your son for the world. It’s just taking more time than you expected to get adjusted in your new body.

Eijirou’s bright voice echoes in the living room, and your son’s echoing delighted peal of laughter warms your chest. With a defeated sigh, you glance at yourself in the mirror and smooth your hands over your stomach, tugging at your shirt.

Eijirou calls out to you and you tell him you’re ready, slipping on your shoes and mustering up enough fake confidence to fool your husband for the evening. When you round the corner, he’s pretending to toss your son up into the air, little happy squeals filling the air. You lock eyes with your husband and genuinely smile, halting next to them and kissing your baby all over his face.

Eijirou kisses him too, reluctantly handing him over to his mother, who graciously volunteered to be on babysitting duty for the night. Once you’re out, Eijirou’s positive energy is infectious, fueling all of his actions and tainting yours too.

Still, a voice in the back of your mind nags at you about your appearance, and gradually your demeanor wilts. Eijirou notices, but he tries to lift your spirits anyways, wanting to save the serious conversation for when you get home. He wants you to enjoy yourself for the time being.

Eijirou gives you space when you return home. He gives you space when you bid his mother goodbye and when you put your son down for the night.

But as soon as you’re alone, Eijirou’s holding your hands and walking backwards until he lands on the edge of the bed, guiding you to sit in his lap and straddle his thighs. He stares up at you, settling his hands on your hips with a puzzled look.

“What’s on your mind my love? You seemed distracted tonight.” He squeezes your hips encouragingly. You purse your lips together, squeezing your eyes shut in the face of your self loathing as you confess how you’ve been feeling.

“So yeah, it’s just been a struggle recently. I’m worried you won’t love me the same because of how different I look now.” You bite the inside of your lip, waiting on edge for his response.

“Look at me,” he demands, gentle yet firm, as always. Your eyes flash open and he places a large hand on your cheek. “Sweetheart, you’ve changed multiple times since we’ve met, and I’ve only ever thought you’ve gotten more beautiful. It’s no different this time. Your feelings are valid of course, but just know you’ve always been, and always will be, the stunning woman I fell in love with. Until death do us part, right?”

You’re can’t be held responsible for the bruising kiss you startle him with. Warm lips and the faint hint of Eijirou’s cologne filling your head with cotton and making your heart thunder. Actions mean more than words, and your husband demonstrates the truth of that statement.

He manhandles you to the side of your bed where a mirror rests on the wall across from you, bending you into some half form of a full Nelson to force you into a front row seat of your pussy swallowing his cock. Eijirou hooks his chin over your shoulder and the heat in his eyes burns you alive. He whispers filthy praise into your ear, sending you over the edge in record time.

Eijirou will remind you of your beauty each day for the rest of your lives, if that’s what it takes.

#bakugou x reader #kirishima x reader #shouto todoroki x reader #bakugou smut #kirishima smut #todoroki smut #bakugou katsuki x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shouto #shouto smut #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #shouto todoroki

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soobnny · 9 months ago

Text

dating him | hwang hyunjin

❝ i’ve never seen anything quite like you, my love ❞

hopeless romantic hwang hyunjin

love is beautiful and brilliant hwang hyunjin

yall cannot convince me that he isn’t the BIGGEST lover

romance is in his blood

he is so fascinated by it

so, for that reason, i feel like dating him would be like the love you read about or watch in movies

bc hyunjin would b the type to consume so much of romantic media

it’s where he learned everything from

wow what a dream

he strikes me as the type to fall in love with every little thing too

his eyes is just a lens of romance

and it’s set on YOU

every single love language he has it .. but here are some specifics

love language #1 gift giving

hyunjin is a traveler okay

and in every trip, he always has something to give you

keychains, t-shirts, bags, jewelry, stickers, refrigerator magnets, pins, you name it

even u have to remind him not to go all out sometimes

bc when that boy splurges, he SPENDS

esp for u ? he would spoil u in a heartbeat

he always makes sure he leaves a day of his travels dedicated to u and thinking about u

on that note, he tends to buy u guys matching items

matching phone cases, matching rings, matching scrunchie

whatever u can get that’s matching

he WILL get it

it excites him too

he loves being able to tell the world how in love he is

wait side note

whenever he’s traveling, he’s always just instinctively thinking about you

he buys this bagel for breakfast, oh ???? like hey guys yn loves bagels too

and the boys r like WE KNOWWWW 😭

everything is about u quite literally

ok continuing on

and he gifts u his art too

his art is very important to him

and he has found lately, u are the one person littering his sketch books

oh he’s down bad

i think for ur anniversary, he’d paint the constellations of how the stars looked that night and aligned perfectly

or his favorite picture of you

down bad that he also buys u a shit ton of dresses

and lingerie ………….

look he knows his fashion

he knows what looks great

u can’t blame him for buying what he knows will look so pretty on you

(he’d probably give u his card one time and say “go crazy” like wow he’s packed)

#2 quality time

i think his favorite dates would also be expensive

he just can’t help himself

BUT u know he has a sweet spot for self care dates too

spa days are very important to him

loves being able to relax and unwind with u

he especially loves when u play with his hair and when u paint his nails

one time, u caught him stealing one of your nail polishes

would also be the type to bring some bit of you in his travels

like ur perfume or ur shampoo

anything that’ll remind him of u

tho ur scent is his favorite

hence why he goes for perfumes or soap or shampoos bc u feel closer to him this way

he just loves being with u even if both of u are doing nothing

just like that bruno major song

conversations where u lose track of time

conversations as in talking shit about the people you hate together

😭😭😭😭

i think he’d want to paint with u

he’d be so shy to ask you too

just simple things

that cute date idea where you swap paintings every 5 mins or something

when u showed him that tiktok, he jumped in excitement

he wanted to do it right away

he prepares everything

he has both ur paintings framed in his room

it’s his most prized posession

oh, and he always invites u to game nights with the boys

he is SO competitive at monopoly

he couldn’t give two shits about other games

u don’t know why he gets so worked up with monopoly

“SEUNGMIN DONT DO IT SEUNGMIN!!!!”

it’s actually rly funny

he would be the type to take revenge

“you’re gonna regret buying a house there”

would cheer if his friends go to jail in the game or if they go bankrupt

doesn’t even try to hide it

and if he’s playing as the banker, he’d slip in extra bills for you

#3 words of affirmation

tho usually said when he thinks u’re asleep

he’s thankful that u take care of him when he forgets to

esp when he’s so immersed in his art

he whispers words of love

like poets and authors in books

he is just so full of love i can’t say it enough

physical touch except instead of touch, he loves kissing you

LIPS AND NECK ESPECIALLY

those are his top 2

he uses tongue 😕 sorry to break it to u

and he also leaves hickeys

so don’t run out of concealer okay!!!!!!! bc he tends to leave like a lot

before i end

here r some more dates he loves

botanical gardens

he’d pick a flower and place it behind your ear

now it’s his lockscreen

sunday markets

he loves the domesticity of shopping together

he buys u lots of flowers

every single type

u think he’s given u all types already

there is never a day where ur apartment doesn’t have flowers in a vase

bc as soon as the first sign of death arrives, he’s off to buy u new ones

he strikes me as the type to also go all out for valentines

hyunjin would send u mounts of chocolates and flowers

take u out to the fanciest date

u get to try new food and cuisines bc of him!

might even buy plane tickets so u two could travel together

maaaaaaaan just treasure everything

a love like hyunjin’s is hard to come by

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

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monstersflashlight · 1 month ago

Text

Patreon Commission for @i-got-a-bad-feeling-about-this

Request: Could I get fem reader x demon where the demon and reader meet at a book shop, but suprise it's the demons book shop. It's neat closing, so after seeing read buying monster romance book, he gives her the real thing!

A/N: Accidentally very romantic (and a bit sad), probably will expand in the future because I really like the plot. Enjoy!

The curse

Demon x fem!reader || size difference, tail play

You’ve come to this bookstore since it opened. It’s just around the corner from your house and you are completely in love with the vibe and the general aura of the place. It smells like old books and something sweet you can’t quite point out.

Most of the time it seems like there’s nobody around, not even somebody to ring your purchases, but you feel at home there. It’s like there’s a vibe in the air that makes you be so quiet and calm, your brain shuts up for a bit while you are browsing different titles, and it’s just… peaceful in a world that’s too noisy.

So you started to spend more and more time in the bookstore, you didn’t even know why, but every time you left your house, something urged you in that direction. So you comply with your baser urges and end up walking into the bookstore with a soft “hello” that nobody answers. As soon as you enter, calm washes over you.

Your feet walk on their own to the monsterfucker section, always well stocked. “Always around the monsterfucker books, human, I’m starting to think you have a kink...” A deep voice resonates behind you, half amused, half teasing.

You let out a loud yelp and turn around so fast your feet slip under you, and you feel the world tilting his axis as you fall to the ground. Your ass sounds like a thud when you hit the hardwood, an imposing figure appearing out of thin air with a smirk so big you can see his fangs. He’s magnificent, big and completely red, his eyes so dark they feel endless and his wings so wide you are a bit scared he’s going to knock the shelves over.

“Who- who are you?” You stutter, your heart is going so fast you almost think it’s trying to escape your chest.

He chuckles, looking at you with something close to… fondness? “I’m the owner of the place,” he finally says, bored, as if he’s said that exact same thing a thousand of times. His big body is leaning against the books you were just looking at, and there’s fire burning inside his deep black eyes. Literal fire that ignites something deep and primal inside your chest making you gasp. He looks relaxed and cool, very much like one of the book boyfriends of your preferred romances.

“I’ve never seen you around?” You intend it as an affirmative, but sounds more like a question.

“Haven’t you?” He asks you, his head tilted to the side as he bites back a smile. “The bookstore has a spell, nobody can remember me outside these walls. But who do you think has been checking your books before you buy them? Giving you personalized recommendations based on the ones you already bought?” He tries to play it as if it’s funny, but you see past his cold demeanor and into his very sad eyes.

“That… that makes no sense,” you let out.

Your brain is spinning and you want nothing more than to believe him, something in your chest is pried open and exposed, like a nerve you didn’t know was there but it’s screaming at you to understand whatever he’s saying.

“Of course it does. Come here,” he extends his hand to help you up.

The second your fingers touch an avalanche of memories flood your brain.

Him telling you about the books he likes. You telling him about your obsession with monster romance. Him offering you some tea and sitting in silence with you as you both read. You talking about your past and your most embarrassing memories as you both laugh...

You remember him giving back your memories every time you touch, and how it grew on you. How he changed the way of introduction everyday… and how he said goodbye every evening when you had to go, eyes sad and a tiny smile playing on his lips.

“Why did you do that?” You ask, breathlessly.

Your brain continues spinning, and feelings you don’t know if you can name start blooming inside of you. It feels like one of those night flowers that close during certain hours just to open up again when the sun sets. He’s the moon rising in the horizon as your heart pulls you to him as if blooming...

He smiles, even more relaxed than before, releasing your hand and playing with the cover of a book that has a monster very similar to him on the cover. “What did I do?” He teases, a tiny smile showing his fangs.

“Why did you erase my memory every time I leave?” You ask, and deep inside your head there’s a memory of you asking something similar already.

And just like last time, he reminds you: “It’s a norm. The bookstore forbids people from remembering me, that’s how’s supposed to be.” He sounds like a broken record when he tells you that, emotionless and bored as if it doesn’t mean anything, but you can see past that.

“Then… Then…” You try to threaten but nothing comes to mind. He’s staring at you with amusement, one eyebrow raised. And then you surprise you both: “Then I won’t leave.”

He stares at you with confusion, his eyebrows raised and his eyes big in surprise. “What?”

“I won’t leave. If leaving the place means forgetting you… I won’t leave.” It seems like the most reasonable solution and you curse yourself internally for not realizing it sooner.

He laughs without humor. “You don’t mean that. You have a life outside. You have things to do, a work to attend to…”

You cut him. “I will figure it out. I’m not leaving you again. I- I… I have feelings for you,” you confess. You don’t know where all this bravado and confidence is coming from, but every memory spinning inside your head screams at you to tell him how important he is in your life.

He moves so fast you barely see him before his hands are cupping your jaw and his lips are over yours. He’s so tall you are on your tiptoes, and in a second his hands are on the back of your thighs and he’s pulling you up against his chest. This angle is so much better and you are teasing his lips with your tongue, asking for permission.

His mouth parts and you are soon exploring every inch of his mouth, running your tongue over his fangs until he’s moaning against your mouth and his hands are massaging your ass. It’s the most passionate kiss you’ve shared with anybody, and the fact that is him, the fact that he’s a cursed demon and you are in his lair… It only makes it hotter. You feel like one of your book heroines, and you know what’s next. Your pussy knows what’s next.

“Make love to me?” You whisper against his lips, pulling back just enough to stare into his deep black eyes. He blinks slowly, and a wicked smile spreads on his face.

He moves his hand to the side and, just like that, you both are naked and pressing against each other. Your back finds the shelves and some books fall around you, but you don’t care, you can’t care when his hands are cupping your boobs and pinching your nipples. His tail curling around your middle and the tip of it finding your clit. To your utter mortification you are more than drenched, and the second his tail touches your clit, you cry out in an orgasm that leaves both of you surprised.

“Wasn’t expecting that,” he says with a low chuckle. He looks so smug you want to kick him. Or kiss him senseless, you aren’t sure which one yet.

“Ugh, shut up and stop looking so smug,” you tell him, your hand pushing at his face like an annoying bug. He laughs against your palm, pressing a kiss against it and then against your forehead.

“Do you want me to shut up? Or do you want me to fuck you?” He teases, leaning down to peck at your lips.

You are breathing hard when you answer: “Both.”

His finger travels down your body until they rest against your opening, silently asking for permission before you nod. He kisses you at the same time he pushes two fingers inside your tight channel, making you moan against his lips. He starts a maddening pace, stretching you with his fingers until you are at the edge of a second orgasm and your brain is swimming in a mix of desire and pent up sexual frustration.

“I’m ready, I’m ready, please just fuck me already!” It comes out like a shout, and he chuckles as he pulls his fingers back.

“What my human desires, my human gets.”

He aligns his cock with your pussy, and slowly starts breaching you. He’s big, way bigger than any human you’ve been with, but the spark of pain only makes everything better. Your head is thrown back, and he’s holding you with just one arm as his free hand rubs slow circles over your pointy nipple. You are almost there… You can feel his dick hitting your G-spot… And when his tail touches your clit, you explode into a thousand pieces again.

“I- I’m starting to think your tail is magic,” you joke when your brain comes back from an amazing high.

“It’s not my tail, it’s you,” and with that affirmation he starts fucking you like a powered machine.

You chant his name as he fucks into you like there’s no tomorrow. He holds you to the shelves as the books fall around you, batting some with his hand when they fall dangerously close to your head. He grunts and groans, telling you how good your pussy is and how wonderful you feel around his dick. You are desperate to come again, your body in such need, you can’t even form proper thoughts as he keeps fucking you into oblivion.

“I’m gonna come, darling, I’m so close,” his voice sounds like a plea, and you grab his horns with force, kissing him senseless as you help him bounce you on his cock.

Your third orgasm is nothing like the ones before. The combination of the kiss, his dick and his tail playing with your clit is so good your brain short-circuits and you pant open-mouthed against his lips. His own noises joining yours as he comes deep inside, his release hot and sticky inside your welcoming heat.

You stay like that for a while, your body shivering in aftershocks and his breathing erratic. But reality arrives way sooner than you want it to.

Your brain is spinning in the thousand and one ways it could end wrong. The thousand and one things you should do if you really want to be there with him. But most of all, you need to figure out how to break the curse in the bookstore so you can remember him when you leave. And for that you need to get out and go back home, start researching…

“You have to go, don’t you?” He asks against your neck, his face buried there as he kisses along your jaw.

Your heart is hammering inside your chest before you answer. “I have work tomorrow, but I’ll be back and we’ll figure it out. It’s too late for me to call and arrange for me to start working from home. But I’ll do it. I swear I will.” He doesn’t say anything when he helps you get dressed and walks you to the door. He looks very sad when you leave that day, he doesn’t even try to hide it. “I’ll be here tomorrow and we’ll figure it out, okay?”

“Sure…” He agrees, but you know he doesn’t believe you.

The sound of the door closing behind you leaves a bittersweet taste in your mouth, but you can’t exactly figure out why...

A/N: I’m sorry for that ending (but lowkey not).

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evesbookshop · 7 days ago

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𝐌𝐢𝐱𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬, 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐬𝐟𝐰 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐩𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐥𝐞 ❤︎︎

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

Izuku Midoriya who starts knitting as physical therapy after his last battle. Who by the time he’s a teacher has insane hand dexterity and is ambidextrous. Whose friends all have their own knit versions of their own merch. Who knits both you and himself little braided rings you both use as place holders until you marry. Which is extremely helpful cause he can just keep remaking his when it falls off without his knowledge or breaks

Izuku Midoriya, who always feels absolutely horrible when he does loose or damage one of these knit rings. And so he spends a few hours when he gets home wrecking you on extremely skilled fingers while whispering compliments and apologies in your ear. “You forgive me don’t you, baby?” Knowing you can’t see straight let alone form works.

Katsuki Bakugou, who despite being an absolute monster with Spicey food , cannot handle even a little sour. Who claims it’s just nasty , and won’t touch one with his friends around. Who falls victim when you give him a war head in place of a regular hard candy and whole face turns red just to twists in shock and betrayal before running out the room to spit it and and definitely not puke.

Katsuki Bakugou who’s a spiteful bastard, and so the next time you have sex, in the middle of moan you find lemon juice being squeezed into your mouth. Shock causing you to yelp and the juice to leak out your mouth. It’s okay though because despite hating the taste, he finds that it’s not so bad when he’s licking it off your throat.

Shoto Todoroki, who’s dense but not nearly as much as people think he is. It took a him a while to figure out he didn’t just really want to be your friend, and then stop ignoring you after the fact. But otherwise very aware of social ques and habits. Who was literally media trained as a child, but he just thinks it’s funnier to blurt things out that should probably stay private. Who acts very lost sometimes but only when it’s beneficial and gets people to leave him alone. And who after getting into a relationship doesn’t do it in private, because he refuses to lie or anything close to you.

Shoto Todoroki who despite not liking to play dense with you in day to day life is more then willing to use it against you in bed “oh right here ? Did that feel good? I’m sorry I can’t quite understand you , love?”

Eijiro Kirishima, who’s a tank of a man , the epitome of typical masculinity out side of his tender personality. Who also eats up trash reality television. Big brother, real house wives, keeping up with the kardashians, toddlers and tiaras, and the holy grail- Jersey Shore. He who has matching meatball shirts with you and that same pair of studded out sunglasses. And who because of said tv shows, has the nastiest reads in the book. A list shit talker when no one’s looking.

Eijiro Kirishima, who comes home one day to see you in the skimpiest outfit known to man, covered in leopard print. And finds himself more horny than he’s ever been in his entire life. Who is in the apartment for maybe 2 minutes before he has you face down, bent over the couch arm.

Denki Kaminari, who’s is actually a little dense and struggles with numbers and letters, due to dyslexia they caught late, but loves to consume literature. Who is might as well be a walking audible commercial. Who is an avid Colleen Hoover hater. Who eats up all sorts of books from biographies to the most jaw dropping smut books ever. Who because of his vast online book collection, is actually really smart just about oddly specific things and people.

Denki Kaminari who drags you into the bedroom because he’s trying to figure out a really oddly worded position in a book, and lets you reap the benefits of his confusion.at least when he gets it right, for the first half it’s mostly maneuvering around each other while listening to the same part of the book in utter confusion.

✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿❀✿

𝐋𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 ❤︎︎

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puckinghischier · 9 months ago

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Tentastrophe

Nico Hischier x Fem!reader

summary: reader and nico are in a secret relationship while on a camping trip together

notes: hi lovies! i got this request from my dear 🏔️ anon so i had to get right on it!! this was so fun to write and even more fun to play out in my head while i was writing it 🤭. also i had no clue what to name it so i quite literally just made up a word 🫣. i hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼

request: We’re camping and my tent ripped, can I please share yours?

[5.1k]

You hated the outdoors. Truly, you despised being outside.

You hated bugs, you were scared of wild animals, you hated the heat, you hated dirt, grass made you itchy, and you really hate the lack of indoor plumbing.

Literally, how do people enjoy spending a week out in the middle of nowhere, no signal for miles, no air conditioning, and eating the same four types of canned food? Not to mention your dislike of sleeping bags.

Who wants to sleep on a flimsy piece of material on the hard ground for days at a time? It’s just simply not appealing.

You continue to list off the things in your head you hate about camping and the outdoors in general while watching yourself be driven farther and farther away from the city through the windshield of Jack’s SUV.

“Oh c’mon, Y/N, don’t look like someone just kicked a puppy in front of you,” you hear from the front seat, Jack looking at you through his rear-view mirror.

You roll your eyes at him.

“Jack, I’m being taken to a remote location against my will with no access to a bathroom or civilization for seven whole days. At least if someone kicked a puppy in front of me, it’d be over sooner.”

“Woah, so you’re advocating for puppy kickers now, are you?” A new voice rings out, this one belonging to Dawson, who occupies the seat against the window beside of you.

“She’s not advocating for it, Dawson, she’s just saying she’d prefer it to being stuck in the woods with you for a week straight,” Holtzy responds from your other side, having been sandwiched between the two in the backseat of Jack’s car for the hour and a half ride to your unfortunate destination.

Dawson reaches behind your head to smack Alex’s. Alex tries to retaliate, and suddenly you have two hockey players trying to fight each other on either side of your body.

“Hey! Cut it out before you hurt Y/N! Coach needs her to get good footage this weekend,” Luke yells at the two forwards.

“Wow, thanks for showing me where my worth lies, Luke,” you deadpan.

Luke flashes you a grin before turning back around in his seat. “You’re welcome.”

You stick your tongue out at him, knowing he’s just teasing you.

When you applied for a marketing internship at the Prudential Center a year ago, you had no idea that you would become so invested in this world. After the initial six month period of your internship was over, you were making plans to find work elsewhere when you were approached by the team’s GM and asked if you were interested in staying on full time as the new social media manager.

You immediately agreed, knowing you had found your passion with working in sports and wanted to stick with it for as long as you could. It didn’t hurt that you had become such good friends with a handful of the players close to your age, four of which were in the same car as you right now.

You and Jack were the closest, though. The two of you bonded over your shared love of country music, a rare find outside of your southern hometown. You had found other interests in common, too, but becoming each other’s country music concert buddy is to credit for much of your friendship.

You grew close to Luke simply because of your proximity to Jack, but found that he’s become a little brother to you. People always assumed there was more than friendship going on between you and Jack, but both of the Hughes boys had become the brothers you never had, no feelings beyond that ever surfacing.

As your job continued to cause you to spend time with the team, you found yourself growing closer to other players as well.

Nico was another player you found yourself talking to long after your work duties were done for the day. Whether it was chatting before practice, pulling him a little too frequently to do interviews or make videos, or grabbing a bite to eat after practice and games because neither one of you wanted to end your conversations, you found the Swiss captain occupying a large chunk of your time both at work and outside of work.

Which doesn’t make it all that surprising that he asked you to be his girlfriend three months ago.

After a huge win over the Islanders at home, the entire team had decided to go out to celebrate. You had caught a ride with Jack that morning, but when you were searching for him so you could leave, he was nowhere to be found, already gone to whatever bar everyone had agreed on.

Nico had stayed behind to do a few extra post-game interviews, so when you bumped into him outside of the locker rooms on your search for Jack, he offered you a ride. You had mentioned how hungry you were, telling him you should probably go home and grab something to eat and change before getting an uber to the bar, but Nico had pulled into the first late-night diner he saw after you mentioned your lack of eating dinner.

The two of you sat in the 50’s themed diner for hours, ignoring all the calls and texts asking where you were and why you didn’t come out to celebrate. You didn’t even realize how late it was until you received a text from Jack, asking that you call him when you got up so he knew you made it home safe, apologizing for forgetting you at the arena.

Nico walked you up to your apartment after driving you home that night, despite the fact it was after three in the morning and they had a mid-day practice the next day. You still don’t know if it was the high of winning or the late hour, but he decided to kiss you at your doorstep that night. Three days later, he asked you to be his girlfriend because he told you he couldn’t stand not being exclusive with you for a second longer.

No one knew, though. You kept on acting as if nothing had changed at work, and no one caught on otherwise. You decided it was fun to keep it to yourselves, enjoying being each other’s secret. You didn’t know the policy on dating your coworkers, either, so you didn’t want to risk anything by outing the relationship this early.

You felt bad lying and sneaking around Jack and Luke, especially, but you’ll tell them eventually. You enjoyed having no eyes on you, your relationship being simply between you and Nico right now. When you tell your friends and the rest of the team, it’ll be out there for good. Fans will find out, your boss will find out, and then your small bubble of Nico will burst.

That’s another reason you dread this weekend. Not only do you just hate camping and being outside for long periods of time, you’re going to be stuck being around Nico for a week straight with no chance to be his girlfriend instead of his coworker.

The trip is the team’s pre-season bonding activity, so you’re tagging along to capture material for future videos and pictures for the various social media pages and website. You had tried to send one of the other members of your media team, not thrilled at the idea of a camping retreat, but the head coach had requested you, specifically, because of your ability to convince the players to participate in various trends and videos.

You owe some of that to Nico, of course. After the two of you formed a friendship, he started telling his teammates they had to participate in whatever silly tasks you asked of them or he’d start reporting them to coach for making your job harder. Since his forceful request, you rarely had to fight to get any of the players to do the latest trending dance, or answer silly questions as they get on the ice before practice.

Unfortunately for you, this means the higher ups see your success and suddenly you’re volunteered to do things like this. And really, what kind of social media content can you create when you won’t even have cell service?

Tuning back into your surroundings, you notice you’re almost to the campground you’ll call home this week. You were so lost in your own head that you barely even noticed the four (grown) men in this car with you singing loudly to the F.U.N. song from none other than Spongebob Squarepants.

Jack and Luke were duetting the song, Jack taking the sponge’s part and Luke singing Plankton’s lines. Dawson and Alex were simply adding harmonies.

You were in for a long week.

———————————————————————————

“Who in their right mind would put a twenty-four year old teenage girl in charge of putting together her own tent?” you whine out as Curtis walks over to see you trying to read the directions for putting together the tent laid out in front of you.

“Honey, I think you’re a little too old to be calling yourself a teenage girl,” he chuckles as he kneels beside you, taking the instructions out of your hands.

“I’m just a girl, Lazar. I will always be a teenage girl at my core, no matter what age I am. Therefore, I’m a twenty-four year old teenage girl. And I’m extremely incapable of building a fucking tent,” you cry out, crossing your arms and huffing.

Curtis just shakes his head and laughs, grabbing the rods that go inside of the tent to give it structure, putting it together for you.

You sit back and watch, trying to help where you can, but ultimately being reverted back to the role of ‘holding the flashlight for dad’, but instead you’re ‘holding the mallet for Curtis’.

Halfway through putting your tent up, you see Nico start walking in your direction. You admire your boyfriend, his tan skin showing due to his green t-shirt being stuck in the pocket of his athletic shorts instead of on his torso. His black hat sits backwards on his head, hiding what you’re sure is sweaty hair. His favorite pair of sunglasses rest on his nose.

“Already making the guys do your dirty work, how dare you, Y/N,” Nico teases as he stops to stand in front of where you’re sitting on the ground.

“Listen, one perk of being a woman in sports is the fact that I’m always surrounded by men just waiting to save the damsel in distress,” you put your hand across your forehead to hide the sun from your eyes, squinting your eyes as you look up at him.

He rolls his eyes at you, flashing you a smile.

“Need any help, Curtis?” Nico calls out, but keeps his eyes on you.

“I think I’m nearly done, but if you want to start hammering the stakes in the ground that’d be great,” Curtis replies, not even looking up from the tent that had now taken shape.

“Sure thing. The mallet, please,” he reaches his hand out to you.

You hand Nico the mallet, looking up at him with an amused grin. “Get to it, time to do manly stuff and go pound on something .”

You start to stand and Nico shoots his other hand out for you to grab onto, helping you heave yourself off the ground.

Once you’re stood in front of Nico, he pulls your hand toward him so you’re standing dangerously close to him, your chests nearly touching. You look around, making sure no one sees the position the two of you are in right now.

Nico leans down, lips grazing your ear as he whispers “Unless you want me to drag you behind a tree and do extremely un-coworker type things to you with the entire team right here, I suggest you don’t talk about pounding anymore this weekend.”

A shiver makes it way down your spine as Nico steps back, walking over to where Curtis is now standing, turning to face the two of you.

You hope he assumes the redness on your face is because of the warm sun, and not because his captain just threatened to do R rated things to you behind a tree.

Ten minutes later, your tent is fully assembled and you’re blowing up your air mattress with a battery powered pump that’s seen better days.

Jack had laughed at your for bringing an air mattress, claiming it’s not really camping if you don’t sleep in a sleeping bag. You told him you refused to sleep on the ground with just a thin bag underneath you for the whole week. If you had to be here, you were going to make yourself as comfortable as you could.

You even brought a battery powered fan to sit in front of your bed incase you got hot at night, but you learned very quickly that even though it’s hot and humid during the day, the night is chilly and dark.

After everyone had settled in and the sun had set, Timo had managed to start a fire, placing hot dogs on a small grate he placed next to the fire while Jesper worked on opening cans of various types of vegetables to heat along side the sausages.

You laughed to yourself, knowing the team nutritionist would develop an eye twitch seeing what foods will be consumed by the players this week. The amount of sodium and carbs in the containers of food for the week were definitely not in line with the meal plan.

Finding a spot next to Jack, you go sit on one of the various logs around the fire, needing the heat to warm your chilled skin. Music played out of a speaker sitting on the picnic table behind the logs, one of your favorite country songs filling the space.

“Nice choice, it’s one of my favorites,” you nudge Jack’s shoulder as you sat down, assuming he had control of the music.

“Yeah it’s a good one, but don’t look at me. Cap’s the one with the aux right now,” he says, pointing to where Nico is standing by a tree, red solo cup in his hand.

You turn your head and make eye contact with him, his eyes having already found you. The raise of his cup and tilt of his head telling you he played this song specifically for you. Your face heats and you smile at the ground, trying to keep the grin from stretching too wide, not wanting to raise suspicion from the brunette to your right.

“Y’know, I wonder why Cap has any country music in his playlist at all, because last I checked, his phone was full of rap and Swiss music and he told me country was his least favorite genre,” Jack starts, leaning closer so you can hear him over the music and chatter. “But then I remembered, I see you and him talking an awful lot after practice, before practice, and everywhere in-between.” You feel like someone has dumped a bucket of ice water on your head, worried Jack’s figured the two of you out. “You’re not cheating on your music buddy, are you?” he asks, looking at you suspiciously.

Relief washes over you. He just thinks you’re sharing music with Nico. Not that you’re seeing Nico behind everyone’s back.

“I might have mentioned a few good artists to him. But don’t worry, concerts are still reserved for you,” you bump his shoulder again.

“Mhmmm. Must have taken a lot of convincing to make a rap loving Swiss man convert to Zach Bryan,” Jack hums, still looking at you suspiciously.

“Just a few links sent is all,” you tell him, noticing he’s just staring at you. “What?” you ask, leaning back a bit.

“Nothing,” Jack shakes his head, his eyes gleaming with an idea. “Just thinking…have you ever thought about going out with Cap?”

You choke on air. You try to recover with a cough, claiming you swallowed the wrong way. “What, what do you mean?”

“You know, like you and Cap. Going on a date. Dating. I think you two would be good together. You guys already seem friendly enough, and he’s a great guy. Plus, I can see the way you look at him, Y/N. You definitely have a crush on the guy,” Jack teases.

You start laughing. Jack is confused by your reaction, not thinking his suggestion was funny at all, but you can’t stop the laughs from escaping.

“Oh, Jack. You’re funny,” you tell him once you calm yourself down. “That’s nice, but nah. I don’t think Nico and I should go there. Too many things could go wrong, y’know? Plus, who even knows if I’m allowed to date any of you guys. Workplace romances are frowned upon in most jobs, you know.”

“Okay, it wasn’t that comical of a suggestion. I was being serious, I think you guys would be great together. To hell with the rules. I can tell when two people are into each other,” Jack says with a hint of annoyance, not appreciating your little laughing outburst.

A look of surprise makes its way onto your face at his comment that he thinks Nico is into you, too. Maybe the two of you weren’t doing such a good job at acting normal around the team. You succeed at suppressing the laughter this time, figuring a second outburst would really make Jack upset. “Oh, you think he’s into me, do you?”

Jack looks at you like you just asked him if the sky was blue.

“Are you kidding me? Y/N, he literally jumps at the chance to be in any of your tik tok videos and he threatened the whole team so they would quit, and I quote, ‘making your job harder and just fucking do what you ask’ or he’d report us to coach.”

You can’t help but giggle this time, of course knowing all of this, Nico having told you himself after he did it, but you can’t let Jack know that.

“I don’t know, Jack, that doesn’t exactly sound like something he’d do. What does he get out of it? More interruptions during practice? More attention on social media? Doesn’t sound like Nico if you ask me,” you tell him, trying to play dumb.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe he gets to spend more time with you. He gets on your good side, helps make your job easier while making ours harder. Earns brownie points to butter you up so you say yes to a date one of these days,” Jack leans his head towards yours, looking up at you like he’s just proven his point.

You steal a glance over at Nico, his head cocked, silently asking what you and Jack are talking about. You shake your head with a smile, telling him its unimportant with the roll of your eyes.

“I don’t know, Jack. We’ll see, I guess,” you sing song, earning a sigh from the boy to your right.

“You’re hopeless, both of you. I need another beer,” he gets up, leaving you on the bench by yourself, chuckling at just how right your best friend is.

After all of the burnt hot dogs and lukewarm veggies were eaten, it was time to for everyone to retire to their tents.

All of the players had to double up on tents, you and the coach being the only two people with their own. The players that were sharing tents on this trip would be sharing hotel rooms all season, so the bonding began with them being able to exist in the same space for an extended period of time.

Your tent sat about 50 feet from Jack and Luke’s. Nico’s tent was in the row of tents in front of yours, three tents separating the two of you.

You quickly made your way to your own tent and started getting ready for bed. Not being able to wash your face or do you proper skincare routine, you settled for brushing your teeth with a warm bottle of water and applying lotion to your face before crawling into your make-shift bed for the week. You hadn’t packed nearly enough blankets, seeing as you assumed it would be warm inside your tent, but you were chilled to the bone. You kept your sweatshirt on, opting for a pair of sweatpants instead of the skimpy sleeping shorts you brought.

You settled into your bed, switching off the small lantern you had been provided.

You laid there for what felt like ages trying to fall asleep. Every little snap of a twig or rustle of leaves made you scared a bear was about to claw its way through your tent.

You thought you had imagined it at first, assuming the wind was blowing and causing your tent to slightly ruffle in the wind. But when it happened a second time, this time the sound of something fiddling with the zipper of your tent following the ruffling, you were starting to panic.

You sat up, pulling the blanket to your chin as you saw a hand push on the door of your tent, a quiet yelp making its way out of you.

“Shhh, it’s just me, let me in,” you hear the familiar, accented voice of your boyfriend ring out, huffing while walking over and unzipping your tent just enough for him to slip through.

You walk back over to your air mattress, turning on the small lantern, looking at Nico standing in the middle of your tent. He was wearing a tan sherpa fleece with plaid pajama bottoms. He had to hunch over slightly, his height being too tall for your small tent.

“What the hell are you doing in here? You scared the hell out of me, you know that?” you whisper yelled at him, careful to not raise your voice too high as to not wake any of his teammates.

“My tent ripped, can I please share yours?” Nico asks with a smirk on his face.

“Oh, yeah? If your tent ripped then where’s Jesper sleeping, huh?” you raise your eyebrow and cross your arms.

“I just left him to fend for himself. Didn’t exactly want to invite him to sleep in here with us. Never know what he might see,” he walks towards you, placing his arms around your waist and pulling you close to him.

He looks down at you, your position mirroring earlier when this exact tent was being assembled, but you had no fear of anyone seeing you now.

“Hi, Schatz.”

You giggle up at him, unraveling your arms and placing them on his shoulders. “Hi Neeks.”

“I’ve been waiting all day to do this,” he mumbles before bringing his face down to yours.

You lean up on your tip toes to meet his lips, sighing contently into the kiss.

Nico pulls you closer, no space left between your bodies as his sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. You tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing against him into the kiss.

His tongue swipes across your lips, asking for entrance, and who are you to deny his wish? His tongue slips into your mouth, effectively deepening the kiss.

Nico walks you backwards until you plop down onto your air mattress, bringing his knee to rest in-between your legs, his forearms on either side of your head to support his weight.

You tug on his hair slightly, earning a groan in response. He starts grinding his pelvis against your thigh, which was your sign to stop this before it got too out of hand.

You pull back, pushing him up off of you slightly. He looks down at you with blown pupils and swollen lips. “Alright, tiger, slow down. We’re not having sex with several tents full of your entire team a few feet away.”

Nico deflates and brings his forehead to rest against your shoulder. “You couldn’t have told me that before I got a stiffie?”

“Sorry, shouldn’t have let yourself get so worked up. Should’ve known I wasn’t going to go there with this many people around,” you laugh at his whiney tone.

He rolls off of you onto his back, slinging his arm over his eyes.

“What are you doing? Quit being so dramatic,” you roll your eyes, trying to grab his arm and remove it from his face.

“Stop, trying to think of sad puppies to make my boner go away,” he swats your hand off of his arm.

You bust out laughing for the second time tonight, but this time you throw a hand over your mouth to stop the noise. The conversation about puppies in the car on the way here earlier making its way to your mind, making you laugh even harder.

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” Nico finally says, sitting up.

“Good. Don’t even think about getting handsy, either. This,” you gesture between you and Nico, “is not happening tonight. Or any night this week, for that matter.”

“Got it. You don’t want any of my teammates to hear you scream my name while my tongue is ins-“ you slap a hand over Nico’s mouth, not letting him finish that sentence.

His eyes shine with amusement at you, seeing your own wide in surprise. “Can I trust you to take my hand off of your mouth?” you ask him.

Nico shakes his head, but not before he darts his tongue out and licks a stripe up the palm of your hand, causing it to fly off of his mouth.

“Okay, you’re disgusting,” you scold him, wiping you hand on the blanket you’re both sitting on top of.

Nico just laughs at you in response, finding your annoyed expression amusing.

“C’mon, let’s go to bed. I’m already sick of you and the week hasn’t even started yet,” you tell him, pulling the blanket back so you can settle under it.

Nico follows your lead and places himself under the blanket at well, pulling your body close to his.

You lay your head on one end of your pillow while Nico places his on the other end, not having brought his own from his tent. The two of you just lay there facing each other for awhile before you remember to reach over and turn off the lantern once again.

You’re appreciative of the new warmth Nico brings to your bed, finally feeling yourself get sleepy.

“Wait, how are you going to know when to wake up before everyone else and go back to your tent?” you ask him, knowing his phone was in his vehicle, none of the players allowed their devices with them. You and coach were the only ones with phone privileges this week, even though they didn’t even work out here.

“Don’t worry, I will. First time I wake up I’ll sneak out, don’t worry,” he assures you, kissing you on the forehead before pulling your body flush to his, resting his chin on the top of your head.

Neither one of you must have woken up at all during the night, though, because when you wake up the next morning to the screams of “I knew it! I knew they were into each other! I told you so!” from your best friend as he stood inside your tent at the end of your bed with not only Luke, but with half of the team standing outside the wide open door of your tent, you were confused until you felt the weight of a body against yours. You open your eyes to see Nico’s scrunched face, the noise waking him up as well.

You both roll over and open your eyes, noticing your audience.

“I called it! I knew there was something going on here! How long have you two been together?” Jack bombards the two of you with questions despite you having literally just woke up.

“Get the hell out of this tent before I get coach to make everyone run three miles today,” Nico grumbles, his voice gravely from the early hour.

“No way, we need an explanation,” Dawson speaks this time, his expression matching Jack’s pleased one.

“You’ll get your explanation, but for right now, get out. Let us actually wake up without fifty people in our fucking tent. Now go, get out,” Nico pulls you closer to him, hiding your face in his chest and slinging a leg over your own.

“But-“ Jack starts again, but Nico removes an arm from around you and points at the door, “OUT!” he says sternly, his captain voice making an appearance.

The group of men start grumbling, but ultimately leaving your tent, zipping your door back up so you and Nico could have a bit of privacy again.

“Nico, you didn’t wake up,” you say, your voice muffled because of how close he’s holding you to his body.

“Sorry, Schatz. Was sleeping too good, I guess. Always happens when I’m sleeping with you. You’re like my own personal melatonin.”

You chuckle at him, not really mad that everyone found out, just wishing they hadn’t found you asleep together on a tiny air mattress.

“At least the boys know now. Now I don’t have to keep sneaking around at practice. I can stare at your ass loud and proud now,” Nico says, detaching himself from you and rolling over onto his back, rubbing his eyes.

You reach over and hit him in the chest. “This doesn’t give you permission to say innapropriate things to me while we’re at work.”

He rolls his head to look over at you, “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he smiles innocently, causing your to roll your own eyes and sigh at him.

“Hey! You guys better not be having sex in there! I’m implementing a no bone zone when I’m within a hundred feet of you two! Get your asses out here and get to explaining!” you heard Jack shout once again, beating his fist on the side of the tent.

You bring your hands up to cover your face, embarrassment flooding your veins.

“Jack! Suit up, you’re coming with me on a little run,” you hear coach shout, earning a “Shit, Nico this is your fault!” from Jack.

You burst into a fit of giggles.

You can’t help but feel like a weight has been lifted off of your chest, not having to lie to some of your closest friends anymore. You also foresee your week of no time with Nico changing slightly, figuring Jesper will be down a roommate for the remainder of the week.

Nothing, though, not even sharing a tent with Nico, or sneaking off to find open areas to gaze at the stars at night, could make you like camping.

You almost change your mind the night Nico takes you to a clearing, laying a blanket on the soft grass to stare up at the sky before he gifts you a necklace with his initial on it, the engraving on the back echoing the small “I love you” he whispers in your ear as he clasps the jewelry onto your neck.

You almost thought you liked camping then, until you walked back to you tent to find Nico had left it unzipped and a possum had made a home in the corner, hissing at him as you screamed loud enough to wake the whole team.

Yeah, you hate camping.

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xetlynn · 4 months ago

Note

Would you mind doing alternate universe claggor x a fem!reader who's a cat-person like lest?

Here you gooo!!!

Arcane Imagines- Claggor

Say It First

summary: [name] and claggor like one another but neither will make it official.

[arcane] [main page]

“[Name]!? [Name]! Dude your shift is about to start!” A slightly muffled voice shouts, startling me awake from the rough sleep I had last night. I shoot up from my couch, my ears ringing due to the sudden movement I made. I look around trying to remember where I even was.

I glance down to my couch, trying to pinpoint why I was sleeping in my living room and not my bedroom. I get jolted out of my thoughts when the front door is slamming open. My eyes widened, stepping back to see Mylo who just kicked my door open. “Hey, my door!” I scrunch my face, putting my arms up. “You’re fixing that.” I angrily told him.

“You should be thanking me, actually.” He rebuttals, showing me his watch. The time was 5 minutes before my shift at The Last Drop started. My heart sank. “I forgot to set my alarm.” I solemnly admit, rushing to my bedroom. “I didn’t know you were awake. I wouldn't have had Mylo do that! I thought he was going to pick the lock, not break it.” Powder says, following behind me.

“It’s okay, he’s fixing it whether he wants to or not.” I spit out, throwing my clothes off, not caring that my friend was right there. She covered her eyes immediately. “Vander is going to be pissed!” I cry out, throwing my work clothes on, grooming out my tail along with my hair. “I was up way too late last night.” I mutter, spraying a bunch of perfume on.

“Let’s go.” I grab my best friend’s wrist, dragging her out of my room. Mylo stood there, hands behind his back. “C’mon, I don’t want you in my house.” I point to him, taking his arm in my other hand. Hurriedly leaving my place, shutting the door behind me even though it really didn’t matter since my lock and door knob was busted.

“Why were you so tired, hm?” Mylo takes his arm back as we all rush to the bar. “I was out with a friend.” I rolled my eyes, sprinting ahead of them so I didn’t have to hear their teasing.

“She was so with Claggor.” He whispers over to Powder who just snickers. “Totally.” She adds.

“Guys, please whispering is not the best thing to do around me.” I point to my fluffed up ears. “We meant for you to hear.” The blue haired girl smirks. I groan. “Whatever.” The Last Drop comes into view and I start running to the building. I made it in just a minute. All eyes on me when I burst inside. I bite my lip, holding onto my tail nervously as I walk to Vander. “I made it on time.” I give him a small salute.

“You look like you just woke up.” He ruffles my hair, my ears go down, upset with him messing up my hair. “That’s because she did.” Mylo sits on a stool, Powder joining. “Only reason she’s here is because we broke into her house.” She says in a joking manner even though that is quite literally what they did.

“Yeah, Mylo. I’m not joking when I say you’re fixing that!” I fumed, heading behind the bar to tie my waist apron. “Yeah, yeah.” He sighs in annoyance. “He broke your lock?” A voice adds into the conversation, I perk up looking to see Claggor who’s holding a box of random things. “Yeah, can you believe that?” I smile, leaning over the counter.

Vander scoffs, walking away knowing I’m about to be really distracted now. “Actually, I can.” He grumbles glaring over at his brother. “He learned it from Vi when we were younger.” Claggor thinks back to the pink haired girl who was basically his sister. I take his hand knowing sometimes it’s a little hard to mention her. “Yeah well he’s going to fix said door.” I squeeze his hand before letting it go to pinch Mylo on the arm. “Better get to it so I have a safe home to go to bed tonight.” I stare him down and when he attempts to argue I just make a zip it motion.

“Going now…” He groans, storming out of the building. Powder joins Claggor and I, laughing at her pouting brother who just left. “I warned him about having to fix it.” She shrugs her shoulders. “He doesn’t think about consequences much.” I remind her. “Never has.” Claggor chimes in, giving me a small wink. My face flushes and I turn to Powder who was already smirking at me.

“So, what were you two doing up so late last night?” She abruptly questions us, making both Claggor and I tense up. “Well, um, this was part of the reason.” He lifts up the box he came in here with. “A box of… junk?” Powder tilts her head with a slight expression of disgust.

“Yes, I’m reusing it. To turn it into jewelry. Claggor and I were collecting them yesterday and he said he’d clean them and bring them back to me. Hence why he brought it here.” I explain, taking the box, hiding it underneath the counter. “Thank you by the way.” I grin, he nods his head. “Jewelry?”

“Yeah, Vander said I could sell some here if they were good enough.” I pointed over to their dad who was talking to a customer. “I forgot you were super into making jewelry.” Powder purses out her lips. “Speaking of jewelry! Ekko and I are going on a date to that art festival tonight. We wanted to invite you two.” She proposes to us and I furrow my eyebrows as Claggor has a slight blush on his cheeks. “You want us to join your date?” I repeated back to her.

“It’s a date for us, it can be whatever… your hangouts are called.” She avoids eye contact with me. I know what she’s doing.

Claggor and I like each other. It’s extremely evident and we both know how annoying it comes off. For some reason we don’t talk about it nor do we hint at it or anything. No kissing, no hugging, no intimacy at all! I got a fist bump last night and I dreamt about it, that’s how pathetic this whole ordeal is.

“You don’t have to answer now but I need one before 4.” She smacks her hand down on the counter before walking away just as her boyfriend, Ekko comes into view. I turned to Claggor who was staring down at his hands. “Do you want to go?” I ask him, I feel my tail flicker to the side and I grab it. Not wanting it to give away my interest. “Do you?”

I smack his arm because of his answer. He does this often. Not giving me an answer on what he wants and deflecting it for me to answer first. “I do, actually. Now, what do you want to do?”

He smiles up at me. “That’s exactly what I was going to say.” He says. I roll my eyes. “Sure it was.”

•••

Powder gets dressed over at my house. She’s wearing a white shirt that has pink flowers all over it with a long black skirt as I put on a dark blue shirt and jean shorts. My shorts used to be Powders but I absentmindedly cut a hole in them for my tail after I borrowed them.

“Are you two going to make it official soon?” Powder asks as she finishes her eyeliner. “Again with this?” I whine, aggressively putting my shoes on. “[Name] it is exhausting to watch! Just say something. I’m sure he wants the same thing!” She practically begs and I sit on the edge of my bed, letting out a huff of air. “I know he does but I want him to make the first move. He never says what he wants first.” I throw myself back on my bed dramatically.

“He’s most likely just nervous, he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing.” Powder comes and sits beside me. Her face was hovering over mine. “I understand though.” She rubs my arm. “Funny, Ekko was pretty straight forward last I checked.” I poke her nose, her cheeks turn pink in response. “Okay I don’t fully get it but I do understand if I put myself in your shoes.” She shoves my arm, standing back up.

•••

We meet up with the guys at the bridge where they’re throwing the festival. Powder jumps over to her boyfriend, linking their arms. Claggor and I awkwardly stand beside one another, following behind the couple into the festival.

I mainly just looked around for new jewelry inspos to make out of the recycled junk that I have. Telling Claggor to take a mental image just in case I forgot. Powder and I fangirling over certain paintings and little gadgets all around.

“[Name], look at that table.” Powder points over to another jewelry table but the jewelry wasn’t made of metal or plastic but instead plants. My jaw slacks, grabbing onto Claggor excitedly bringing him over to the table with me. Not realizing that Ekko and Powder took that as a chance to split up from us. I pick up a blue flower crown, examining it. “I could so create something like this!” I squeal, placing it on my head. “Powder they have pink-” I held it in my hands, turning to show her but she was already gone. I press my lips together and frown.

“Wow.” I scoffed out a laugh. “Hey, since you picked that up you actually have to buy both of them.” The creator comes up behind me, I look at her with a sad look. I didn’t bring any money. Before I can say that though Claggor was already giving him a few coins. “Thank you.” She nods her head, stuffing the coins in her pocket.

“Sorry, I’ll pay you back.” I hold the flower crown in front of me. Not knowing what to do with it now. “It’s alright, don’t worry about it.” He waves me off. I look between him and the crown, a smirk creeping up on my lips.

“Put this on.” I give it to him, he raises a brow. “Okay.” He puts it on without a fight and I giggle, giving him a hug. “We match!” I feel my tail flick back and forth and I immediately let him go before he can embrace me back.

I clear my throat. “Let’s go check out the glass area. That seemed cool.” I avert my gaze from him, walking ahead now. “You okay?” He asks. “Of course.” I curtly answered.

I want to be able to hug him without worrying about doing too much. Or showing him I’m too happy because what if that looks weird. My ears and tail give me away too quickly though. I’ve never been able to lie about my emotions. Ever. If I’m upset my ears flatten. If I’m happy, excited or nervous my tail will show it with how it moves. It’s sort of annoying.

“I know something’s bothering you, [Name].” He places a hand on my shoulder. See!

“Nothing’s bothering me.” I lie, forcing a smile. “Let’s go see that glass.” I pump my fists in the air. He doesn’t move though when I begin to walk. “C’mon.” I try to grab his hand but he pulls away to cross his arms. “Not until you tell me.”

I glanced around us and everyone was just walking around, not paying attention to what we were doing at all. “I guess we can stay in the jewelry section.” I attempt to make a joke but it doesn’t land with my very small audience.

Once his silence began to bother me I swallowed down my pride. Thinking back to what Powder said. How it might just be hard for him to explain how feels about things.

“I want to be something.” I deflect eye contact with him, trying to focus on literally anything else at this moment. “What do you want to be?” He stammers.

“A couple like Ekko and Powder. I want to kiss, hold hands, tell everyone that you’re mine.” I exclaim, at the ending of my sentence I glance up at him. His hands drop to his sides. “I can’t tell if that’s what you want either because you never tell me how you feel unless I say what I feel and then you just agree with me and it makes me feel like you’re lying almost.” I blurt out word after word, not being able to stop the vomit that is this sentence.

“I just want to know how Claggor feels, not [Name].” I tell him truthfully, my head going down sadly. My ears falling with it. I hold onto my tail to mess with something.

“I… in all honesty [Name] I feel the same way as you most of the time. Like this for example, I want the same thing. I want to call you mine and scream it out to everyone. I just get scared that I’m going to mess up.” He grabbed my hands, my tail dropping back down. “What would you mess up?” I look up at him through my eyelashes. “Everything.” He chuckles dryly.

“Mm, I don’t think you ever could.” I pull him closer to me, wrapping his arms around me. “I want you to be mine and I want you to tell me everything you feel.” I tell him, my arms going around his neck. “I want to kiss you.” He says, momentarily letting me go so we can get out of people's way a little better. We weren’t exactly stopping anyone from walking but so we could have our moment a little better. He brought me to the wall of the bridge.

“You want to kiss me?” I giggle, my hand traveling to his face. “Mhm.” He nods his head. I see the redness in his ears from how hard he’s blushing. “Then do it.” I whisper.

He smiles, both of us inching closer and closer before he closes the gap between us. Our lips locking together and then moving as if we’ve done this before.

Once we realize we were still in public though we back away with dumb, goofy smiles on our faces. “We need to do that more often.” I blurted out, causing him to laugh. “I wouldn’t mind.”

“FINALLY!!!” Two arms wrap around us, pulling us together with Powder who was excitedly jumping up and down. “What’d I tell you, Ekko. My plan worked.” She throws her head back to look at her boyfriend who shook his head.

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radiance1 · 1 year ago

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Another link to this post. Meet the parents style.

So, Danny and Jason have been fake dating for a while now, and ended up marrying each other solely for tax benefits. Also, they got cool ass fucking friendship rings that they just couldn't not wear everywhere and being married is convenient so...

Anywho, so Jason has met Danny's parents but Danny hasn't met Jason's parents. Danny knows that he has some ties with the vigilantee scene due to being a Crime Lord-he still doesn't know what to think of his parents connecting the dots immediately when they only met him once while it took him more than that while living with the guy.

He thinks Jason may have been an ex-vigilantee at some point before turning to crime.

Then Danny gets blinded by rich people aura when he finds out that his bestfriend is the long thought dead child of Bruce Wayne. Frankly, he's insulted.

You mean to tell him that his could've been buying ice cream from that high class place all this time!? He shook (literally he grabbed and shook him) that point into Jason, he doesn't care that Jason never told him he was rich but he could've at least bought some high class ice cream once in a while.

Jason who was busy solidifying his power as a crime lord, avoiding his family and making sure not to leak his identity at all: I'm a literal crime lord, and the only thing you care about is me not buying you ice cream?

Danny: YES!!!!

Jason: Dork.

Right anyways, so Jason takes Danny along to meet Bruce and his fam but did say as soon as he started being uncomfortable they're leaving. The batfam is a bit blindsided by Danny, because they thought Jason was bringing his partner but its good to also get a feel for Danny's personality.

Danny and Jason did what's normal for them when Danny starts getting comfortable around the manor full of things that cost waaay more than his rent. Like half-heartedly insulting each other, being snarky, leaning on each other and other such things.

The batfam start thinking that there's more there than they know of. So they start watching a bit closer and ask a few round about questions that fly over Danny and Jason's heads. They just forget they're married often, unless it's regarding taxes.

All of this sends the wrong message when they walk into the same room and, being nosy, one of the batfam comes up to the door and uh. They hear the bed moving quite a lot.

So.

Meanwhile, Jason is trying to wrestle with Danny because this man does not pick a lane. He'll either be the human octopus (who is cold as hell) Jason has ever seen, he'll try to kick him off the bed in his sleep as if Jason personally offended him in some way, or he'll sleep in some wacky position that interrupts Jason's sleep. The last one is tied to the other two, however.

So, Jason has to frequently wrestle this man into a proper position where they both manage to get some sleep and it wouldn't have been so bad if Danny wasn't a goddamn sleep fighter. He would know, he had to nurse a bruised jaw for a few weeks.

Why do they sleep together? Listen, when you're in an apartment with not a lot of money, you gotta cut costs where you can alright?

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dcxdp #dc x dp crossover #Danny and Jason are platonically married #I'm not gonna put this in the post but I had a random thought of Jack and Maddie meeting Bruce Wayne and they instantly clock him as Batman #It's not even Maddie #Jack just took one look at him and sniffed out something sus until his himbo brain connects the dots to him being Batman #The thing is they managed to find this out with barely any evidence so they think they might be wrong without knowing that they're actually #right #Anyways #Jason is tired of this mfer Danny and how he sleeps #Every time they go to bed Jason walks into their shared bedroom like he's about to wrestle a fucking bear #The batfam think they be fawking but they actually aren't it's just Jason wrestling to get a good night's sleep #Why did I make this?#I have no clue

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writingoddess1125 · 7 months ago

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Relationship Weirdness

Kurt Wagner x GN Reader Headcanon

Funny and Silly established relationship

Masterlist

This Link leads to Kurt Wagner- Or does it???

THE NICKNAME DILEMMA

• Kurt has a Love, Hate relationship with the seemingly endless stream of nicknames you seemed to have for him and how you constantly

• Sure he had ones for you, but all classic in affection!

• Like Schatz aka his treasure, or Engel! He loves calling you Engel, Liebling also, Sweetie too in English

• However from you he does get the 'Love' Or 'Babe' but also he gets-

• 'Fuzzy Butt!', 'Blueberry', 'Sugar Booger-'

• Some he was fairly sure one was a drug inudendos as well!

"Schatz- What is will the constant changing nicknames?" He ask you one day after you kiss his cheek and weirdly called him 'Sugar Booger'

"Do you not like them?" You ask, he shakes his head.

"Nein, I like them. It's just- Isn't that a slang? For a bad thing?" He questioned, watching a weird smile goes across your face as you suddently snort up his arm like you'd done a line off him.

"Yes- You my Blue Cocaine"

He stared at you with a deadpan stare, trying to hold back his laughs as he covers his face with his hands.

You're so fucking weird-

PHYSICAL AFFECTION FUCKERY

• Kurt's tail has a mind of its own especially with you, so more often then not it will be wrapped around you, sliding up and down your back, sliding across your thighs or trying to find its way into your hands.

• He never notices until you reciprocate the affection, often leaving to him being a blushing mess when you run your fingers up the velvet like tail-

• He is naturally very physically affectionate so will cuddle you or lean against you most times.

• Sitting on the couch? Kurt will slide in right next to you. Making dinner? He will lean his weight on your back and look to see what you're making- Personal Space doesn't exist

• While Kurt is Cuddly, You are grabby-

• His tail? His fluffy little ears? His sides? All fair game!

• Seeing two fuzzy asscheeks in the shower, you see how the hair sort of swirls like a cowlick-

• You can't help but touch them-

• Earning a loud surprised noise from Kurt as he turns to look at you quite literally messing with the hair on his ass

"Really?-"

THE BEARD ERA!

• Kurt is very feline like in nature and the facial hair adds to this as well it seems.

• He will like to rub his neck and cheek against you, sometimes giving a growl/rumble as he does so.

• You can protest all you want but he will just give you an evil smile and rub his cheek against yours harder before teleporting away to avoid the consequences for giving you mild rug burn on your cheek!

• When Kurt's beard starts growing thicker he gets some ingrowns on the part were his neck meets his head so you have to open pin him to get at them-

"Stop being a big baby! It's deep!" You yell as you pin your boyfriend, watching him squirm under you in protest as you get the tweezers closer to the series of bumps.

"NEIN! LASS EN IN RUHE!" He screamed as you get the tweezers to get a big ingrown that protruded from his skin.

"AHHHHHH!!!"

THE FOOD FIASCO

• Has very weird eating habits- You often forget he was raised in a circus in Germany so he eats like it too.

• AKA Hawaii Toast-

• Your mortal enemy and the thing that you are willing the kick box over in terms of the kitchen area. The first time you saw Kurt make it, you almost sobbed at this atrocity towards both Hawaii, Italy, Bread and maybe Humanity

• "What the fuck is that!?" You almost cry out as you see the monstrosity on the counter.

"Hawaii Toast-" Kurt says calmly as he butters bread, adds ham, a ring of pineapple and some kraft cheese on top before chucking it into the toaster oven while grabbing some ketchup-

You stare at him in horror as he makes direct eye contact with you and takes a bite of this- monstrosity

• He does know how to cook luckily even if he makes Hawaii Toast for himself- Him learning recipes from your culture and you learning from his. As well as taking turns with kitchen duty!

• For Drinks- Kurt is the Master! He can open any bottle, he can make the perfect pours! He knows the exact drink you'd like off the top of his head

"You're a fucking Wizard Blue-"

You say in awe as you watch Kurt make you a drink calmly, raising a brow as he opens the beer bottle with his tail like nothing.

"I know~"

#x reader #nightcrawler x reader #nightcrawler #kurt wagner x #kurt wagner #kurt wagner x reader #x men x reader #x men 97 #xmen x reader #xmen imagine #x men #x gn reader

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zepskies · 3 months ago

Text

Against the Wind - Part 3

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: Merry Christmas! I'm dropping this chapter a day early for you guys. Now, here's the full story, and what Dean is going to do about it…

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: True Mates @jacklesversebingo

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.8K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Angst, mentions of blood, hint of spice.~

🧡 Series Masterlist

Part 3: Nothing Left to Burn

“We should start heading back,” you say, looking up at the mid-afternoon sky. It was starting to dip toward the top of the trees in the distance. “It’s going to take a couple of hours to get back before nightfall.”

“Yep, it’s about that time.” Your dad groans as he starts to haul himself back to his feet, where you two had been taking a rest against a tree. “Jesus, I need a new pair of knees. Help your old man, would ya?”

You smirk as you help the middle-aged alpha to his feet. His joints pop and his back cracks as he stretches his arms high.

“Damn, Dad. You’re creakier than the trees,” you quip.

He tosses you a wry look. “Just you wait. In a few years, after wrangling a couple of pups, you’re gonna feel my pain.”

“A few years?” you laugh. “Did I miss the part where I actually met a decent guy, let alone one worth mating?”

“Oh, you’ll find him,” your dad nods, slinging his rifle back over his shoulder. “Or he’ll find you, like your mother did with me.”

You follow his lead with your own rifle, falling into step with him through the forest clearing. It’s a beautiful day in late November. Already you can see the edge of frost on the shrubs and half-barren trees. The ground is littered with dead leaves painted in browns, oranges, and dappled with reds.

“You met her in college. It’s not like you guys defied fate,” you say.

“Yeah, but if she hadn’t walked into my psychology class by mistake, and stolen my latte at the campus café, maybe you wouldn’t be here,” he teases.

You huff and roll your eyes. Yes, your parents are a walking cliché. And by far, your dad’s the bigger sap.

“I’m telling you. Sometimes, the universe does us a solid,” he says, reinforcing his point with a literal pointed finger your way. You push it away from your face in exasperation.

“You might wanna watch where you’re going,” you say, “before you roll your ankle on another pebble.”

“You kidding me?” he exclaims. “That thing was the size of my fist! You’re lucky I didn’t break an ankle. Make you carry me all the way back to the car.”

You snort. “Right. Think I’ll just leave you for the bears…”

You trail off when a sound reaches you and your father. The sound of leaves crunching in the underbrush, quick and light. Your father’s shoulders straighten with alertness, the alpha’s head cocking toward the sound.

“Maybe I spoke too soon about the bears,” you whisper. He shakes his head.

“Nah, too light. It’s probably an elk.” He tosses you a smile. “We’ll have one hell of a haul to bring home, plus a good story to tell your mom.”

Your mother, the vegan veterinarian?

“Yeah, because she loves elk meat.”

“Would you quit being a smartass for two minutes? You go a little west. I’ll see where it’s at,” he says.

He quietly wracks his rifle and steps away from the clearing, farther into the woods. You do what he says, veering west. You don’t see the elk, and soon enough, you don’t see your dad either. You do hear a whistling on the wind, and the cold of it cuts right through your coat.

Unease prickles down your spine, though you don’t know why.

“Dad?” you whisper-yell, trying not to spook whatever animal might be out there.

A gunshot rings out, along with your dad’s voice in a shout. Your eyes widen in alarm, and you call his name, taking off in a run to find him.

You end up rising over a hill you hadn’t crossed before, but you see your dad below; you recognize his bright blue puffer jacket that Mom got him for his birthday. You call his name, and he looks up at you with fear in his eyes.

Not for himself, but for you.

“Go, get out of here!” he shouts and waves you off.

“What? What is it?!” you yell.

He shakes his head, like he’s unable to answer your question. “Run! Run and don’t stop!”

He moves further into the denser trees until you can no longer make him out. With a frustrated huff, you sprint down the hill and try to follow his tracks with your gun at the ready. On the wind, in the distance, you still hear his voice.

Until it cuts off abruptly, along with the terrible cracking of bone.

You gasp and halt in your steps. What the fuck was that?

Tears fill your eyes and blur your vision. Despite what you heard, you realize just how very alone you are in the clearing. Fear and adrenaline make your breath tremulous and shallow, but you can’t just give up. You search for a while longer, making yourself hoarse calling out to your father.

No matter what direction you take, you never find him.

“I ran back to town to get the rangers,” you say, brushing a couple of stray tears from your cheeks. You sniff, licking your lips and swallowing a hard lump of emotion in your throat.

Dean continues to listen intently with his brows furrowed.

“It was too late,” you sigh. “He disappeared. They explained it away, thought a grizzly bear got him, but I know it wasn’t a damn bear.”

You shake your head as the tears come harder and faster, all over again. Dean’s jaw clenches in sympathy.

“No one believed me about what I heard, not even my mom,” you confess. Your mother had been too distraught to entertain “anything else.” No matter how strongly you’d felt about your suspicions, you understood that she just wanted to put your father’s death behind her after his funeral. Part of you had stopped believing yourself.

A stronger part of you hadn’t been able to let it go, however. So you had to come back here and try to find any trace of your father.

When you finally run out of words, you see the proverbial gears turning in Dean’s eyes.

“What’re you thinking?” you hazard to ask. You can’t help but reach out and grab at his wrist. “Do you…do you believe me?”

Dean’s gaze softens a fraction. He lays his larger hand over yours.

“Yeah, I do,” he says. “I’m willing to bet on what took him too.”

He squeezes your hand before he lets you go and gets up from his seat. He soon returns with his father’s journal in hand. He reclaims his spot across from you, sitting close to your thigh on the end of the chaise. His gaze falls away from your face to the journal in hand, and he flips it open to a page he knows from memory. You suck in a subtle breath to steel yourself when he turns it toward you—to the very page that had given you nightmares the first night you read it.

Wendigo.

“Nasty son of a bitch,” he says. “It hibernates for decades at a time, but when it surfaces, it knows how to get through long winters like this. It takes a handful of people at a time, feeding on its victims slow.”

You feel sick at that, but still, his words elicit a sliver of hope.

“So there’s a chance he could still be alive,” you say, in a brighter voice. Dean gives you a measured look, dragging a hand over his mouth.

“Look, I’m gonna be straight with you,” he says. “It’s been months, right?”

You nod, though you realize what he’s saying. Don’t get your hopes up.

“But there’s a chance,” you insist, with tears in your eyes. Dean holds your gaze for a moment, and he nods. He squeezes your knee this time, then shuts the journal with one hand as he moves to stand.

You follow him on your crutches over to the kitchen. He pulls out a drawer and retrieves a folded-up map. Tossing the journal on the kitchen counter, he opens up the map and lays it out flat next to the sink. It’s a map of the mountain, and the entire forest surrounding the mountain of Big Sky. Dean’s eyes flick up to yours.

“Where did it happen?”

Dean has packed up his supplies and put on his winter gear. You watch him from the living room sofa, trying to hide your unease. You know he’s doing this for you, but there’s part of you that doesn’t want to see him leave, for his own sake, and selfishly for yours.

“Try not to go outside again unless you absolutely friggin’ have to,” he warns. “And if you do, don’t go too far. Make sure you take a weapon, preferably a gun and a knife.”

“Dean, I know,” you reply. You get up and hover by the couch while he finishes lacing his snowshoes and hooks his backpack on. You’re unable to hide your concern.

“You shouldn’t be going out there alone,” you say.

Dean tosses you a grin. It has the shade of how he was with you before the “journal” incident—self-assured, a hint teasing.

“Don’t worry. This isn’t exactly my first solo mission,” he says, though his devil-may-care attitude soon subsides into something more serious. “If I’m not back inside a week, you need to ration out the supplies here as best you can. That new meat in the fridge should last you a while.”

By new meat, you have to assume he means the bear.

“When you’re healed up, you can make your way down the mountain and back to town with that map I left for you. Kitchen counter,” he says.

Your frown worsens. You step closer to him with the pretense of closing and locking the front door for him after he leaves.

“Dean,” you say, stopping him at the door. He turns to look at you over his shoulder. You hesitate, fidgeting slightly, but you gain your courage.

“If you don’t come back, I’m going to find you,” you warn him.

Dean frowns. He turns to you fully and tilts his head as if to say, come again?

“No, you’re not, Omega. You understand me?”

His terseness doesn’t scare you anymore. You glare up at him, quite literally standing your ground.

“You didn’t leave me out there when you didn’t even know me. You think I’d do that to you?” you counter.

At that, Dean has to pause, tilting his head slightly. He almost smiles at your stubbornness, and just like that, his annoyance dissipates. It softens him, making him reach for your arm in an assuring squeeze.

“I appreciate the thought, but trust me. I’d rather you look out for you,” he says.

Right now, you don’t really give a shit about what he’d rather, but you don’t say so. It’s written across your face anyway. Dean’s mouth tugs at a smile.

“All right, I’m out,” he says. “Save me some of Yogi in there.”

You huff, but you shut the door behind him after he steps out onto the porch, down the steps, and beyond. You move to the living room window and watch him get farther and farther away from the cabin.

Despite the crackling fireplace, you begin to feel cold inside.

After the first three days, you’ve managed to clean the entire cabin, top to bottom. With the “new meat,” you make a large batch of soup to last you throughout the week. You freeze a couple of servings for Dean.

For when he gets back.

You try to fill up your time in other ways, like attempting, and failing, and trying again more successfully to make bread from scratch. You haven’t binge-watched every season of The Great British Bake-Off for nothing.

Then you organize all of the alpha’s books by author. You wash all the laundry you can find and fold everything neatly on his bed, and you put away the couple of sweaters you’ve borrowed from him into your own dresser.

On Day Four, you create a nest of pillows and blankets in the middle of the living room floor. In your anxiety, it’s a reflex you can’t help. Your initial instinct was to nest in his room, but you thought that was too invasive of his privacy, so the living room was your next best option. At least his scent is still somewhat imbued into his favorite chair, and around his records. (You do steal another shirt of his to sleep with though.)

On Day 8, your worry becomes a living thing. You pace the living room and the kitchen on your crutches, probably wearing down the wooden ends of them while you debate what to do. Despite what Dean told you to do if he didn’t get back, you know you’re not just going to leave him out there. But the reality is, you have a problem of mobility.

With a frustrated huff, you decide to try setting your problem foot down normally. Your ankle hurts, a sharp pain shooting up your calf and nearly sending you to the floor.

“Fuck!” you gasp, both in shock and aggravation.

You know this isn’t just a sprain. At best it could be a fracture, since no bone is protruding under the skin. It still means you shouldn’t go after him either.

But you’ll have to try.

After you manage to clamber back onto your feet using the crutches, you put together some supplies, including the extra med kit in case he’s hurt. (Or in case something happens to you while you’re out there.) This is a bad idea, you think, even as you heave on your jacket.

Then, you hear the sound of a lock turning, before the front door shoves open.

A yelp of surprise escapes you, though you soon realize that it’s Dean, looking worn down and ragged, but alive.

“Home, sweet home,” he says wryly, but he looks relieved to see you too.

You help him sink down onto the chaise, where he stretches out with a groan. He tips his head back on the cushion. His jacket is torn in a few places. Blood has dried on his cheek, his neck, and near his hairline, and you worry about where else he might be hurt.

You quickly go to the kitchen and pour a bowl of warm water and grab a hand towel. You bring it all back to Dean, where you set your supplies on the floor and sit down beside him on the cushion.

“Are you okay?” You try to calm down your racing heart (and the nauseous feeling in your stomach) as you help him work open his jacket, followed by his shirt. Discreetly, your eyes take in the expanse of his tanned skin and pebbling nipples exposed to the cool air, even with the fire roaring nearby.

“Yeah, just peachy,” he says.

You smile a little. You take the towel, dampen it, and begin to clear the blood from his cheek, his neck, and the upper part of his torso—even his scuffed hands. Then you squeegee out the blood in the bowl and continue your task. Dean subtly watches you, his gaze a bit softer than usual.

He eventually looks you over with a frown as he takes in the way you’re dressed, and then the backpack by the door.

“What, about to go for a little afternoon stroll?” His sarcasm turns to annoyance. “Didn’t I tell you to stay put until you can actually walk?”

Your mouth flattens into a line, but any anger you might’ve felt is waylaid by your relief. It brings tears to your eyes.

“I thought something happened to you,” you say.

Dean hesitates. Your hand has stilled on his chest. He softens a little more, grasping your hand in his larger one.

“I’m fine,” he says. “The job’s done.”

Your eyes widen. “You found the…thing? The wendigo?”

His mouth pulls at a cocky grin, tempered only by his tiredness, and the way he’s looking at you. “Sure did. Tried to take a chunk outta my ass, but a little aerosol deodorant and a lighter’s all you need to barbecue that ugly son of a bitch.”

You smile in amusement, but all too soon, it fades.

“Did you find my dad?” you ask.

Dean’s expression sobers as well.

“Yeah, I think so.” His face gentles. “Was he wearing a blue puffer jacket?”

Your lips tremble. As that horrible realization dawns, you break down into tears. You already know from his tone that your father was dead when he found him.

Dean guides you down to him by your shoulder and wraps his arms around you. You bury your face into his neck, and your body shakes with quiet sobs.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he murmurs into your hair. “Believe me, I am.”

He holds you close, warm and secure. He allows you to stay there as long as you need, where you feel safe, even if this world has become a colder, darker place.

After a few minutes longer, your intense sobs begin to subside. You don’t mean to, but you turn your nose into Dean’s neck, scenting him on reflex. It calms you down, but it has the unintended effect of arousing him. The alpha rumbles in pleasure.

You blink in surprise and lean back enough to see his face. Dean’s lips press together as he looks down on you; he seems embarrassed, but you also see the heat reflected in his gaze, so intense in those forest greens. Your face begins to warm in a blush.

He brushes your cheek with his thumb, collecting your tears there. You glance down at his plush lips again, your own parting with a breath. His hand moves to cup your cheek, framing the side of your face. Please…

He finally drags you to him in a kiss.

It’s heady and passionate, and also comforting. Your fingers wind into his hair, your nails scraping along his scalp. He growls as his arm tightens around your waist. You shiver in delight.

You press a hand to the center of his chest, giving you leverage to rise up and slide your thigh over his legs. There you sink into his lap. Your breasts pillow against his chest when you lay on top of him, your elbows digging into the cushion on either side of his head. His hands move down your body, feeling down your sides, squeezing your hips, and then your ass. You hum into his mouth and roll your hips into his. Already you feel him hardening through his jeans.

But somehow he breaks away from your kiss, even though your hands are still in his hair.

“Sorry…we can’t do this,” he says, with difficulty.

He sits upright and nearly makes you fall over in the process. He grabs your arm before you tip over, but he keeps himself at arm’s length from you after you’re forced to slide off his lap, sitting on the end of the chaise instead. Your eyes glisten with hurt and confusion.

“Why?” is all you can ask.

He doesn’t want to answer.

“Dean?” you ask, inching towards him. He raises a hand to keep you at bay.

“Just…it’s not a good idea, okay?” he says, with the clenching of his jaw.

That cuts into you even more. Your heart pulses with pain.

“Do you know what your scent is to me?” you ask, in a voice slightly trembling. You glance at the fireplace that has dimmed to embers. “It’s better than that fire at full blaze. Every time I went camping with my dad, that’s what I loved the most. Sitting by that fire, talking, laughing, and for the millionth time, telling the story of when I gave my sister micro bangs in her sleep when I was ten.”

You wipe a stray tear from your eye, but you respect the distance he’s put between you two.

“The second I met you, I knew what this was,” you say. “I think you know it too.”

Dean shakes his head. His face betrays his wariness, his desire, and his obstinance.

“Look…even if that’s true, you don’t want this with me,” he says. His handsome face becomes marred by a frown, his brows knitting together. “I don’t even own this place. Besides my car, I ain’t got much of anything to give.”

You shake your head in dismay. “I know that’s not true.”

“I’m not bullshitting,” he says. “Listen…I’ve never had much. And what I did have, I found a way to lose. I’ve let my people down. Just about everyone I’ve ever…”

You can’t help but reach out a hand for him, your heart hurting, but he leans away, pressing himself back against the seat. It cuts even deeper into you; now though, you wonder if it’s because he feels the same gut feeling you do when he’s this close—close enough to touch, but almost afraid of the burn.

“They’ve been hurt, almost always because of me.” His voice shakes imperceptibly, with a wry, humorless turn of his lips. “So take it from me, sweetheart. You’ll wanna steer clear.”

“Dean,” you say. You expel a breath, digesting his words, while thinking of what you want to say.

“I’ve never not felt safe with you,” you confess. “Even when I screwed up and drove you crazy, I’m sure, I knew you’d never hurt me. The same way I know…”

You reach out a tentative hand to lay in the center of his chest, over his heart. Your thumb brushes the edge of his strange tattoo, over the dark ink in his skin.

“You’re my mate. My one, true mate in this world,” you say, meeting his eyes. “And I want to know you.”

You see inner conflict in the depths of Dean’s eyes, dark green and troubled. You take a chance and lean in, brushing your cheek against his, nuzzling, laying a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Omega,” he warns, but the grit in his voice has little heat.

Or at least, it’s heat of a different kind, as his strong hands once again find your waist. They hold you still, but also hold you to him. Your gentle affection is making him ache, deep in the shadowy cavern of his chest. He’d never admit it, but loneliness had set in there, burrowed deep with a stronghold on his heart. Without knowing, you’ve been carving it out with those gentle hands.

You now slide your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, warm palms on his skin.

“Alpha, I want to know you,” you insist. Quiet, but steady, your voice is a mere brush of words near his ear, against his cheek. “Please.”

Dean’s brows furrow as he briefly shuts his eyes tight. With your whispered plea, the brittle chain of his restraint finally snaps free.

He cradles the back of your head and guides you back into a feverish kiss.

AN: Sorry to cut it off there lol, but the big (steamy) finale is coming up next week! Perhaps a little earlier than Friday. 😘

Next Time:

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return.

▶️ Keep reading: PART 4 (Finale!)

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ekingston · 16 days ago

Text

also on ao3.

Lena smiles to herself as she watches Kara zip through National City’s most exclusive luxury mall. She’s like a honey-drunk bumblebee, bouncing from aisle to aisle, descending on some random item every five seconds just to mutter hmm and dart off again.

Lena is moving at a more civilized pace. She has long since stopped trying to keep up, both with her best friend’s not-quite-incriminating measure of super speed and her unfathomable decision-making process.

“Lena help,” Kara pouts, suddenly back, familiar and warm at Lena’s side. “Do fifteen-year-olds like anything?”

Lena doesn’t take her eyes off the art books she’s been perusing, but she also doesn’t stop herself from leaning in, her shoulder resting briefly against Kara’s, their hips grazing. A friendly gesture. A welcome back. “You remember Ruby, right?” she teases. “Cute? Bright? Probably six feet tall by next Wednesday?”

Kara huffs. “Yes, but she's—you know. Cool now.” She makes a gesture that’s somewhere between jazz hands and a bomb exploding. “What do cool teenagers like?”

Lena sends her a self-deprecating smile. “Do consider who it is you’re asking.”

Kara’s gaze tumbles from Lena’s face to her chest to her hands, and then she nods. Lena feels like she should be insulted by Kara’s quick acquiescence, but all thought leaves her mind when Kara steps closer, reaching across Lena’s body to play with the head of a fat round brush. Lena watches the fine bristles spread wide around the pads of Kara’s ring and middle finger, and tells herself that she isn’t affected by the situation at all.

“You know,” she breezes, veering away from the wisp of Kara’s breath against her temple, “Ruby’s been sketching a lot more, lately.”

Kara, immediately revived, follows Lena over to a glass case marked with Holbein’s logo. But when she glances up at the price tags, she goes pale. “Seven hundred dollars?” she yelps. “For colored pencils?”

Lena hums. “They’re pastels,” she explains, flipping the case open with a pleasing wood-on-metal snick. “High-grade pigments, no fillers.” She runs her fingers down a length of cobalt blue, watching Kara’s throat bob when she reaches the gold lettering along its side. “I hear they lay down incredibly soft,” Lena hears herself say, her voice low in the narrow space left between them. “Rich and easy. Just a hint of pressure is enough to achieve whatever effect you desire.”

Kara looks up, her glossy pink lips now inches away from Lena’s own. “Since when do you know about art materials?” she rasps.

Lena breaks into a light sweat at the question. “Well, you know,” she stammers, straightening. “It’s. No secret that I’m a patron—” She gestures helplessly, trying to step away again but finding herself trapped between the display case and Kara’s body. “That I—I’ve always had a thing—”

Kara’s eyebrows twitch as she waits for Lena to finally finish a sentence, a smile tugging at one corner of her mouth when Lena fails to do so. Her amusement at Lena’s floundering should embarrass her, but combined with the close heat of Kara’s body and her cocky smirk, Lena finds it alarmingly arousing.

“I have literally never heard you talk about art before,” Kara smarms. “Oh wait! Actually I specifically remember you canceling on Bruce Wayne’s charity gala when you realized he was having it at the Museum of Modern Arts, two years ago.”

“Kara—” She’s still so close. Lena is beginning to feel a little lightheaded.

“You were already in Gotham,” Kara points out.

“Listen,” Lena flusters. “I am a well-rounded—”

Kara’s eyes are dark and sparkling. “You were his date.”

“...I was his friend,” Lena corrects. “Bruce and I were never—not like—” She gestures between Kara’s body and her own, the movement greatly inhibited by their closeness, and ceasing entirely when she realizes where her argument is headed.

Kara bites down on what Lena is sure would otherwise be a maddeningly self-satisfied grin. “My birthday’s coming up, too,” Kara says. And then, her voice gentle, “But you already knew that, didn't you?”

Lena huffs out a breath. Of course she knows that. Kara is her best friend. It’s completely natural that Lena would spend night after sleepless night poring over catalogues and browsing the dark web, trying to find her the perfect gift.

“You got me these?” Kara grins, picking up a viridian green pencil and twirling it between two of her fingers. She looks so pretty and pleased that Lena nods, instantly resolved to trash the one-of-a-kind mini-anti-life-equation she’d managed to place the winning bid on, and gift Kara Holbein’s entire collection, as originally intended.

Kara still hasn’t moved. “Lena,” she says. “You know you didn’t need to spend all that money on me.”

Lena huffs out a humorless laugh. If Kara thinks the pencils are pricey, ditching the anti-life-equation is definitely the right call. It’s a shame—apparently it’s super effective against fruit flies and fungus gnats, both of which Kara has been unsuccessfully battling in her kitchen for the past couple of months. “You know me,” Lena says, something bitter twisting at the corners of her mouth. “Always going overboard.”

“No,” Kara tells her. The surety of her tone draws Lena’s gaze back up to those ludicrously blue eyes. “I do know you,” Kara says. “And you always get it exactly right.”

The silence that ensues stretches taut between them, stretches thin, fraying Lena’s nerves along with it. She should get Kara some canvases too, Lena decides. In fact, why not make it a set? Add some new brushes, and oil paints, maybe a new easel—oh!

“Mechanical erasers,” she blurts, and darts away.

Kara isn’t quite as quick on the uptake this time, taking long seconds to rejoin her on the other side of the aisle.

“Not like what?” Kara asks.

Lena blinks at her, puzzled by the non-sequitur. Kara’s eyebrows twitch together again, but this time they stay there, a tiny divot in the skin between them. Lena doesn’t know what to do with—well, any of it, quite frankly. “Since the secret’s out,” she says, pointedly looking away from the curious expression on her best friend’s face and gesturing at the collection of erasers, “do you prefer the—”

The feeling of Kara’s hand at her waist is highly unlikely and profoundly baffling. But when Lena looks down, trailing off, there it is; Kara’s thumb, settling against Lena's hip bone, her fingers sliding—sure and steady—into the gap of Lena’s open coat.

“You said you and Bruce were not like you and me,” Kara says. “What are we like?”

Lena’s heart is slamming in her chest like Kara is playing tennis with it. She’s so frustrated that Kara won’t just let it slide and allow Lena to escape with her pride intact; she’s so enamored with the way Kara looks at her, open and curious, as if she honestly doesn’t know what Lena is trying her best not to say for fear it will ruin their friendship.

The situation is so impossible that Lena doesn’t register the movement of Kara’s other hand until she’s slipped it around the back of her neck. It rests there—joining the other in its exploration of formerly firmly out-of-the-way places—with just the barest hint of pressure, her fingertips settling warm against the vulnerable skin of Lena’s nape.

Lena flusters, suddenly forced to address Kara’s question in a far more certain shade than she’s allowed them both to get away with over the years. If Lena opts for “the kind of friends I thought I’d never have”—a bitter, but familiar favorite—will Kara still help her blend the outline between the soft tones of their friendship and the vivid hues of what Lena is pretty certain is their mutual desire?

She swallows, watching the quick flash of Kara’s tongue as she wets her lip, reveling in the sight of it up close, struggling to maintain her solid form beneath the feeling of Kara’s hands on her body.

“There’s…” Kara whispers, swaying closer, “...probably a couple of things we really should talk about.” Her nose brushes Lena’s cheek before resting there, her eyes falling closed, their foreheads just barely touching. “But do you think it would be okay if—just for now—” She’s muttering the words almost directly into Lena’s mouth. “If I kissed you, first? Before, I mean, the rest of—”

Lena tugs herself up by the lapels of Kara’s jacket before Kara even finishes her question, the darkness behind her closed eyelids sparking into bright technicolor at the soft press of Kara’s lips against her own. They’re warm, and yielding, and slightly sticky—probably from the fresh-baked cinnamon roll she’d scarfed down before entering the store. Just before they pull apart, Lena catches the slightest hint of sweetness with the tip of her tongue.

Lena hums.

Kara is right. They really should be talking about this, and not necking in the middle of Eulalia Literature & Arts like a couple of boarding school kids on a school trip. But Kara is looking at her as if Lena is a wonderful secret freshly revealed, so Lena really can’t be expected to keep herself from being pulled back into Kara’s orbit. Can’t be blamed, even, for doing it lips-parted, so eager for another taste of what feels like the one bright spark of undiluted joy she’s ever felt she actually deserved that she shamelessly licks into Kara’s mouth, her entire body lighting up in oversaturated iridescence when Kara meets her with similarly unselfconscious sincerity.

Kara doesn’t let her go, even when they pause for air, both of her hands twitching against Lena’s body, as if keeping herself from pulling Lena back in is a tremendous effort. “Can we just stay here for a minute?” she hushes, her breath mingling with Lena’s own.

Lena smiles. “I think the security guard may have a couple of things to say about that,” she tells Kara, flashing an embarrassed glance over her shoulder at the woman in question.

“Oh, shoot.” Kara flinches, flushing an irresistible shade of pink Lena doubts even Holbein’s pigments could emulate. She rarely wears her glasses anymore, but Lena watches her reach for them out of habit, her movements jittery and raw.

“It’s alright, darling,” Lena soothes her, thrilling privately at the endearment as it falls off her lips. “I’m sure all will be forgiven when the cashier runs my credit card.”

And she’s right; when they exit, the guard gives them a nod that may even signal some mild approval. Whether that’s about the fortune Lena just spent on art supplies or their impromptu public exhibit, Lena isn’t sure.

Later, after weeks of conversations, after numerous tiny discoveries and world-shattering revelations—one of which has Kara confessing to once helping a fifth-dimensional imp create a half-dozen miserable alternate realities in which the full, vibrant spectrum of their love for each other went unacknowledged, and never led to a kiss—Kara blows out thirty-one colorful candles, and unwraps first (in the company of all of their friends) her gifts; and then (in the company of only her lover) Lena’s wrap-around A-line dress.

Lena’s legs are already trembling when Kara finally glides her fingers to the seam of her thigh, the pad of her thumb nudging gently at the patch of darkening cotton between Lena’s legs. “Could I try something new?” she asks, and Lena, who has discovered that Kara’s ideas only ever fall into one of two categories, one being complete absurdity and the other unmitigated brilliance, sighs.

“I want to paint you,” Kara says.

It so figures, Lena thinks. All of these new toys, and Kara can't decide which one she wants to play with first.

“Okay,” Lena says, driven to impatient acquiescence by Kara’s thumb, now moving in gentle, tiny circles against her.

“Okay?” Kara confirms, hand stilling, sitting up.

Lena clasps Kara’s teasing fingers and presses them down hard where she needs them, her back arching into the touch of their joined hands. “After,” she demands.

This was written for the multi fandom (and original!) flash fiction challenge, using the prompts ‘vignette/slice of life’, ‘shopping for a gift’, ‘friends to lovers’ and ‘colored pencils’. You should give it a whirl!

#i couldn't whittle this down from 1200 to 1000 words so i doubled it. 'cause i'm sane that way #alternative title: in which easter is a fucking tease because her word counts refuse to cooperate #supercorp fan fiction #fic by ekingston #art by ekingston #in this house we still celebrate supercorp sunday!#multi fandom (and original!) flash fiction challenge

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