#moss takes over everything

[reallyghostlypost]

[Fic] The dangers of camping in the valley's forests

You know what Stardew Valley needs? More cryptids and unknown creatures. Also more fics with Jadu and Gill.

Jadu wrapped his cloak tighter around him. He actually liked whenever Camilla was sending him to visit Marlon, listening to him and Gill share stories and gossip around the campfire was always a delight, but he really couldn't get used with the weather in the Valley. Autumn nights here were always bitter cold for him, used with either the desert heat or the dry cold nights of the Badlands, not these humid winds that seem to seep into your bones. He took another gulp of hot mulled wine and looked up at the mountains.

The nature surrounding them was already shrouded in darkness despite the sky still having a greyish orange tint from the setting sun. The vegetation was too thick to see even a foot forward and to someone trained to fight in open terrain of the corrupted desert it felt really claustrophobic. Shadow brutes, or any monster really, could be just a few steps away from him and he wouldn't be any wiser.

Jadu moved closer to the fire, feeling his teeth start to clatter. Really, he wasn't a child any longer to get scared by creepy stories told around the fire. But he couldn't help but feel that the shadows between the trees were unnaturally dark. He realized that Marlon stopped speaking a while ago and that made him tense suddenly. What was happening?

Looking up he noticed both Marlon and Gill staring at the same spot... tree? Jadu tried to see whatever got their attention but there didn't seem to be anything there. A sound then came from the darkness, like a stream of water running over rocks. Were they this close to the river? But listening closer he could also hear whispers, like a group of people were close by speaking silently with each other. Jadu gripped the wand stashed in his robes.

He was started to feel dizzy. This odd noise of water and whispers reminded him when he was training with Camilla by the river. He still didn't know what potion she gave him that time, but it was supposed to help him communicate with the elementals. The river then started to speak with him in a similar way, to call him with whispers hidden beneath the clear sound of running water, awfully familiar, and Jadu knew that he would be able to understand what it was telling him if only he could get a little closer. He could feel his mouth numb, a weird sweet taste on his tongue. He was so close to the water now, only a step forward and he could fall in the river to join the whispers, when a hand shot up to stop him from drowning himself.

Jadu jumped violently pulling the wand from his robes only to point it at Gill. "Sorry lad, but you looked really out of it." Gill apologized before removing his hand from his shoulder. Jadu was still panting trying to figure out what was happening. He could feel sweat on his back despite the cold air surrounding them.

"That owl is back." Marlon said in a tired voice. Jadu looked at the scarred adventurer then back at the same tree Marlon has been watching before, but he still couldn't see anything. Gill patted his shoulder without a word and pointed at a branch higher up in the tree and that's when Jadu noticed it. It was a small white owlet with black spots all over its feathers, small enough that could fit in the palm of his hand, but it was... wrong. Its almond shaped eyes were pitch black, with no pupils or irises, and was that a third eye on its forehead or just another black spot?

As soon as he laid eyes on the small owl his head cleared and most of the cold and dread was gone. Were they caused by the critter? Now that he was less confused Jadu could definitely recognize it as a dark elemental, inhuman spirit birthed from the darkness of the forests covering so much of the southern part of the Ferngill Republic.

The owlet opened its small black beak and the same weird water sounds mixed with whispers came out from it. Jadu could feel his ears getting stuffy, and the same coldness was starting to encroach him again. Marlon picked a rock and threw it at the bird who flew off with a horrible scream, like dozens of bats screeching at the same time. Just as it disappeared into the brown dry foliage Jadu noticed that it had a second identical face on the back of its head, it's second pair of eyes staring straight at him, making the hair at the back of his head stand up.

"Don't worry." Marlon reassured him as he poured more hot wine in his mug and urging him to drink. The heat of the wine felt good. "You'll get used with its magic soon enough and it won't affect you this badly."

"It hid into a crack of our roof for a while and we couldn't understand why we kept having nightmares or hallucinated in the middle of the day." Gill chuckled. "It wasn't pleasant, but the owl seems otherwise harmless. It keeps following us around and tries to get back into that crack before we chase it away, so we got used with it by now."

"More and more spirits like that have started to appear. Magnus has been working overtime trying to keep the dangerous ones from getting close to the town so he doesn't have time to chase away the smaller elementals from mingling with humans. We considered requesting a meeting with Camilla but things are under control for now and we don't want to take more of her time."

"Weird." Jadu managed to say before starting to cough. His throat felt weird and dry which made him scowl. Why was he so affected that small spirit?

Marlon gave him a sympathetic look. "Don't beat yourself up lad. You're trained to deal with desert spirits not forest ones. Spend more time here and you'll recognize their magic before they can charm you."

"Yeah." Gill remarked dryly. "Like we did last week when we started accusing each other of whispering in the middle of the night." Marlon huffed amused at that before taking a sip from his own mug.

"I'll speak with Camilla about this, maybe she can think of some solution without the need of a whole council meeting." Jadu picked a dry fish from the pile of food placed between them. "When did it start to happen?"

Marlon and Gill looked at each other for a second before Gill cleared his throat. "When spring came around and the new farmer moved in the valley."

"Farmer?" Jadu was confused. What did a farmer had to do with spirits and elementals acting weird?

"Oh, kid." Marlon sighted. "You have no idea what a long history that cursed farm has."

[mossyflowers]

I love being aromantic because every now and then I get to play a very fun game of "am I crushing on this person or do I have no fucking idea what's going on and I'm just really fond of them"

[zyggie]

why is the green rain event so ominous

[sugar-and-spite]

made a lil house in minecraft

[veinsfullofstars]

holy stars I'm done

I'm done with prompts. they're all queued up and compiled. all of them. I did it. I made it before the month ended

I'm free

[helloidkwhatimdoing-0]

Everytime im about ready to go to bed, it also happens to have been long enough since dinner that my stomach starts SCREAMING at me to eat something

But because its the middle of the night I end up just having a snack, which is enough that my stomach lets me sleep but not enough that I'm actually comfortable

I don't have a solution yet and i actually dont want to be going to bed this late and its driving me insane, but yeah this is just a thing now

[rodolfoparras]

Don’t cry over spilled milk (or do)

Pairing: The Milkman x Male reader

Content warnings: 18+, anal fingering, Francis is one vocal fellow

Thinking about Francis Mosses who’s always been considered the perfect top, mostly because of his size- getting to bottom for the first time in his life.

Down on all four, with his ass in the air big fat cock uselessly hanging between his legs, and feeling himself flushing red from being in such a vulnerable position.

Besides the embarrassment brewing in his gut, he feels restless just laying like that , so used to being able to see what his partner is doing to him, now he can only rely on the feeling of your two thumbs prying his cheeks apart, and exposing the sensitive flesh to the cold air.

Goosebumps raise across his skin, a sharp breath escapes his lips and he can feel the impatience growing inside of him. “Come on come come on just hurry up!,” he hisses out, feeling even more vulnerable from the way your gaze seems to be burning into the pink flesh of his ass.

“Patience love” you say, hand firmly landing on his cheek, and as much as he’s embarrassed to say it, the action manages to silence him.

His dark eyes glare down at the bright white sheets, thumbs fiddling with the loose threads of it, trying to ignore how his face must be as red as the cheek you just slapped while you freely ogle at him.

“Anybody told you that you look pretty like this hm?” You say, thumbing curiously at his puckered rim, but not adding enough pressure to push your finger inside him.

Another wave of embarrassment washes over him, and he feel the urge to cuss you out with every curse word to exist in the English language but he knows but he knows by doing so you, you’ll further prolong this.

So he clears his throat, swallows down his pride before he mutters the word “No,”

A contended hum escapes your lips, your hot breath washing over his skin and this time he knows your face is just a hair away from his puckered rim. “Well you are,” you say, words as firm as your grip on him. “So so pretty”

And you’re so so close yet so far away.

He clears his throat again, swallows the last bit of pride in him before he utters the words “Please just please-“

“What is it sweetheart? What do you want hm?” You say, amusement clear in your voice. He can even feel the way the tip of your nose drags along his bottom half, doing everything and anything in your power to wind him up and he doesn’t know how much more he can take before he combust.

“Please just please fuck me!” He cries out, tears threatening to spill from his glassy eyes but all the air is suddenly punched out of his lungs when you slip the tip of your finger inside.

There’s a slight sting that comes with the stretch, body momentarily tensing as you carefully work your finger inside him”Oh! Oh oh fuck!”

“Francis? You okay?” You say, carefully massaging the pink flesh.

With each brush of your finger tip; the burning sensation dulls a bit and he feels himself relax back onto the sheets, a soft hum rolling off his tongue before he manages to properly answer you. “Good, it’s good,” he hums out, as he further relaxes into your touch.

Eventually the stinging sensation completely subsides and he starts feeling empty with only your fingertip inside. “More, please more,” he grunts out hips subconsciously buck up into your hand.

“Such a demanding little thing” you say to him as a chuckle escapes your lips but you don’t waste a second working your finger deeper inside of him til you’re buried knuckles deep, and tactically grazing the wall of nerves that sends sparks of pleasure through his body, specially down to his dick.”Mmph-God! Just- ah just like that”

This isn’t something he’s felt before, your touch feels ever so intoxicating especially when your calloused finger grazes the sensitive wall of nerves and before he realizes what he’s doing he finds himself begging for more, greedy as ever and drunk on pleasure.

It doesn’t take much before you fulfill his wish, pushing two fingers past his puckered rim, the stinging sensation briefly returning , as he gets used to the feeling of having two thick digits inside of him. “Come on sweetheart, you can take it yeah? I know you can” he hears you say, familiar word spilling past your lips and for a brief seconds he imagines the times he’d been the one to say it when he had someone under him.

Eager to prove himself, he starts fucking himself back onto your digits, something that starts off slow as he gets used to the stretch before he increases the pace. “Ugh fuck - fuck feels so so good yes yes yes!!”

By this point he doesn’t register when you work a third finger inside of him, only registering the fullness that comes with it and the way your hand slides between his legs, gently palming his ballsack

“Look at you love, haven’t even fucked you yet you’re already so close to cumming,” You say , puncturing every word with a thrust to his prostate while tugging at his hard and weeping dick.

Francis couldn’t care less about the fact that you’re taunting him, couldnt care less about how pathetic he looks like this, all he can care about is how every thrust - every stroke, has him inching closer to his orgasm.

“Please oh god please -“ He cries out, begs and pleads sounding something akin to a mantra, fingers practically digging holes into the mattress and the muscles in his thighs cramping up from how hard he’s fucking himself onto your hand.

It doesn’t take much before he feels his toes curl, pulse roaring in his ears as a wave of hot white pleasure washes over him.

“Ah ah God ‘m cumming ‘m cumming please-“ he cries out, feels himself spill all over the sheets and his thighs, body shaking as you continue to milk his cock.

“Stop- stop, please.” He finally slurs out, once there’s nothing but pathetic spurts of cum coming from his cock, hand blindly pushing you away from him before he finally slumps down onto the mattress.

Exhaustion creeps up his bones, eyelids feeling heavier than ever and all of a sudden he feels himself fading away in the dream land.

“Ah, ah ah,” he hears you say, the sound of your sharp voice snapping him awake. “We’re not done here,”

[hvhvmoc]

Francis Mosses NSFW A-Z ♡♡

I love him <33

Reader is gn but has female anatomy.

A-ftercare (What're they like after sex)♡

Very very tired. Everything he says afterwards is either slurred or murmured. Very cuddly tho. Will not let you go. Very sappy afterwards too; telling you he loves you and how pretty and perfect you were/are.

Takes him a second to do it but eventually gets up to get you some water while you go to the bathroom (always pee after sex!).

B-ody part (favorite body part on you & him)♡

On you, he loves your hands and lips. He holds your hand a lot during sex even if hes absolutely destroying you. And he loves your lips because he just likes kisses (and how they look wrapped around his dick). Between tits or ass tho, I think he'd prefer boobs (not pun intended). Even if their small, he looves them.

On him, he'd say his hands are his favorite. He likes the way the have so much effect on you. Like when he fingers you or grabs onto your hips or thighs or when he grabs your hand during sex.

C-um (anything to do w cum basically)♡

I think he'd prefer to cum on your stomach or ass. Though I do think he'd cum inside every once in a while. When you suck him off, he let's you take control of his dick tbh. If you want him to cum all over your face, then he will. If you want it in your mouth, then he will. If you want it on your boobs, he will. He just wants to please you fr.

D-irty secret ♡

I feel like he'd have plenty of them. A main one tho is that he's stolen one of your panties and jerked off with them before. He felt guilty afterwards so that was the only time he did that. The others are small enough for him to forget about it

E-xperience (his past experiences)

♡

I feel like he had NO BITCHES before you came (tee hee) along. He was a quiet kid and just focused on himself, maybe had a couple gfs and intimate moments but you're probably the first "real deal" to come into his life in terms of love.

F-avorite position ♡

He'd like the classics. Like missionary, cowgirl, doggie, etc etc. He'd probably like missionary and cowgirl most. Missionary because of the intimacy. Cowgirl bc sometimes he wants some but he's tired (and boobs).

G-oofy (how serious/unserious are they during sex)♡

He's pretty in the middle. Sometimes he likes to slowly fuck you while you two have a normal conversations so sometimes there's jokes thrown in there. But if it's rougher/faster, he's more serious.

H-air (what kind of hair they got down there)♡

I think he trims it. Keeps it tame. He doesn't shave it clean tho, unless you tell him to, then he might. For the rest of his body, he does have some hair but not a lot.

I-ntimacy ♡

Oh this boy is INTIMATE. The kind of mf that looks at sex like "love-making" instead of just "fuck". Loves praising and listening to what you say. You say harder and he goes harder, you say slower and he goes slower, etc etc. Most of the sex you two have will most likely be when he's tired/half awake so all the praise and such are slurred in such a beautiful way yk.

J-ack off (how often does he jack off)♡

Other than what I said in the dirty secret section, he doesn't really do it anymore. Why imagine you when he has you right there?

K-inks ♡

Praise - he likes receiving and giving praise. He likes talking you through it, telling you how good you feel and how much he loves you.

Marking - he'd like to leave hickeys on you, not for a way to "claim" you, but just because he wants to and he likes your reaction to it when I sucks on your sweet spots.

Overstimulation - he likes to BE overstimulated. Sometimes he wants to keep going but his body doesn't or he's too tired so he just begs you to just ride him til he cries or passes out.

Nipple play - he likes to pinch and massage your boobs a lot. Even if you're not having sex, his hand lives on your boob. Most of your foreplay is him sucking and nibbling on your nipple, pinching your other one while he fingers you.

L-ocation (their favorite locations to do it)♡

I feel like he'd only want to do it at home. He doesn't like public stuff. At home tho, he'd do it anywhere; on the dinner table, kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room, anywhere. He could do it in the car tho. Maybe if he gets too worked up after a date and your apartment is too far away.

M-otivation (what turns him on)♡

Tbh. Everything. Skin tight shirts, your sleepwear (no matter what it is), etc. He likes when you take care of him too, just loving him turns him on.

N-o (some turn offs)♡

I'm so sorry yall but I think he'd say no to bdsm. Like maybe SOME parts of it he can do but like hard-core bdsm is a no.

He wouldn't want to actually hurt you in any way. Spanking is ok if it's not full force but like actually causing you pain is a no.

And he wouldn't like shit with pee, poop, and vomit. Shits nasty.

O-ral ♡

Oh bro. He EATS. Man can eat you out for hourss if you let him. He was a little shit at eating pussy at first but with more practice, he gets better and better. Like I'm talking about EATING pussy. There's no kitten licking with him, he is in. There.

And he loves when you suck him off. He talks while you do but they're all murmurs so no one knows what he's saying. He fucks your face gently (unless you tell him you want it rough) everytime. Mutters praises all throughout it and let's out of raspy moan when he cums.

P-ace ♡

Unless he's dead tired, he goes at whatever pace you want. When he's dead tired he wants to go slow and sensual. But if he had energy, he'll go at whatever pace you want him to go at. He starts off slow but if you tell him to go harder and harder he will beat that pussy numb.

Q-uickie (opinions on quickies)♡

I think he'd want to take his time with you so quickies are eh to him. If you seriously cannot wait but you can't leave wherever you are for too long, he'll take you somewhere private to eat you out till you're satisfied (or suck him off until he's satisfied).

He will leave an event for the day to have sex with you tho. If it gets that bad.

R-isk♡

To keep it short, he'd be down for experimenting as long as it's not in his "no" list.

S-tamina ♡

Again, depends on you. If you wanna ride him till the sun comes up, he'll thug it out for you. He likes overstimulation anyway. But tbh he rlly only goes for 2 rounds until you have to take over.

T-toys (toys they own)♡

I don't think he has any toys for himself. And he wouldn't really care if you had your own toys. He's fucked you with your toys before; like a vibrator up to your clit while he fucks you or a dildo in you while he sucks on your clit.

U-nfair (do they tease? And how often)♡

He doesn't really edge or tease you, but when he does, it's on accident. Sometimes he pulls out to cum on your stomach and accidently edges you. He doesn't mind when you do it to him. Feels good.

V-olume (how loud are they during sex)♡

Loud asf. Like I said, he talks during it, like murmuring and slurring his words. He's a moaner and whimperer too. Occasionally groaning but not really.

He LOVES when you're loud tho. He encourages it actually. Turns him on more.

W-ild card ♡

To add onto "volume", he talks dirty so much, even if it's under his breath. Like omfg the filth that comes out of his mouth is so unexpected.

Also, the amount of times you two were getting rough with it and he got that phone call (ykwim), he doesn't stop. He slows down a bit but just continues while you struggle to not blow you're cover.

X-ray (what's in those pants)♡

He's pretty average. Long, kinda thin, a vein on the top of his shaft from the base to the middle of it. He's about 6-7 inches, and he knows how to use it. Tbh I can't decide whether he's circumcised or not so you can personally decide that.

Y-earning (how high/low is his sex drive)♡

Surprisingly high. He's down to fuck whenever. Unless he's literally about to knock out cold. But if he's awake then so is his dick. He barley asks for sex tho, he wants YOU to initiate it. He just gives hints.

Z-zz (how fast he goes to sleep)♡

Like I said before, he's literally so tired afterwards. Once he makes sure you're okay and comfy, he snuggles close to you and sleeps.

I love him your honor.

[tetzoro]

BLOOM — ༉‧₊˚.

ft. zoro roronoa !

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : after the events of wano take place, you and zoro find yourselves having a slow morning filled with thoughts of your future. (there’s no spoilers dw i just wanted to use the setting lol)

꒰ CONTENTS ꒱ : fluff ; zoro being vulnerable and in love — WC : 1.3k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : zoro in wano forever altered my brain chemistry so here is a silly lil blurb from my drafts ! enjoy ! dividers by @/cafekitsune ᰔ

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! (*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ᰔ*.ﾟ

in the early morning where the flower capital begins to bloom and the sounds of the bustling street fill with people eager for another day of celebration start to take root, zoro wakes up next to you. in the distance, the faint scent of cherry blossoms begins to fill his nose as the breeze glides through the windows, sending a shiver down his body.

“cm’here.” zoro slurs, his arm easily hooks around your waist, other hand grabbing a hold of your plush thigh as he lifts you over to him. your eyes flutter open for a moment and zoro swears he can see the rising sun in them. but it was a false start — your eyes shutting once again as you nestle yourself against his chest.

“too early.” you complain, the world only just waking up as light starts to lazily spill through the windows and into the room, pouring over you in an angelic glow.

“mhm.” he agrees, running his knuckles along your exposed back, eliciting chills in its wake. he couldn’t help but bask in the warmth of your nature, wanting more than anything to tuck you into his chest and keep you there for safekeeping. “good morning to you too.”

“good morning.” you let the words tumble from your lips after breathing out a soft chuckle. your chin moves, resting upon his chest as you finally look at him.

his breath hitches as he realizes he’ll never get over how pretty you are — sleepy eyes still shining bright even though they fight to stay open, dried up drool endearingly taking residence in the corners of your mouth, hair in slight disarray after a sleep filled with tossing and turning, no doubt already tangled from the activities from the night before. he could never get enough.

zoro leans in and presses his lips against yours, a sweet kiss that you easily melt into like burning wax. your hands crawl up to cradle his cheek ever so softly — packed with all the care in the world it almost makes his heart skip a steady beat.

a part of him wonders if this is what his life will look like after luffy becomes king of the pirates and he himself finally becomes the greatest swordsman in the world.

would he get to lazily wake up with you in his arms every morning — languidly kissing each other until he’s positively drunk off listening to your little sounds of pleasure as they slip out of your mouth and into his? or slowly waking up together by showering the other with affection safely behind closed doors, the privacy allowing all of his walls to fall down around you, where you tenderly move past the vanquished rubble.

these little things have steadily grown on him like the moss that the shitty cook claims grows from his head and he honestly couldn’t imagine not having in his future. there have been too many close calls during the time you’ve known each other and the thought of not being able to love you for the rest of his days sends a spike deep into his core, threatening to take his breath away.

“sleep okay?” you ask, pulling apart from him in favor of kissing his cheek, nuzzling into the side of his face. a small comfort that reels his wandering mind back to you, grounding him back into the present.

“yeah, always.” he gives you a little squeeze, a silent message that he only sleeps so well because you’re here beside him. “you?”

“always.” you parrot back. a smile breaks along your face, cracking through like the sun when it first rises for the day. a shimmering glint before it consumes everything it touches.

zoro’s dumbfounded for a moment, blinded by the force of nature that unfolds before his very eye.

“although,” he starts to tease, a dastardly little smirk dangling on his face. “you’re a damn blanket hog, you were moving around so much i thought you were going to fall off the bed.”

“what!” your eyes widen in shock. zoro humorously watched as the gears in your brain started to speed up at the accusation, harmless irritation puffing steam out of your ears. “no i’m not! you’re just making that up.”

“no.” zoro chuckles, “that’s why i had to pull you onto me. was tired of you being so damn far away.”

“aww, you missed me?” now it’s your turn to tease, poking his cheek with that sweet little grin on your face. so much for riling you up.

“just wanted to catch you before you rolled off the bed.” he grumbles.

“oh really?” you squint at him, not entirely convinced that his intentions were so heroic. “so if i just—“

you go to move off of him, but he’s quicker, flipping you so you’re sprawled under him over the wrinkled sheets. zoro’s palms land by either side of your head, effectively caging you in. even though it was still early, zoro never missed a step.

wordlessly, he shifts onto his elbows, lowering himself down on you until your back sinks into the mattress, tucking you in just like one of the many petals you press into your books. you’re his own version of that he thinks, the pretty flower that got trapped between the harsh lines that write up his pages, sealed with a heavy exterior that you had no problem prying open with loving hands.

“nuh uh, not a chance.” he leans down and kisses you, letting out a soft groan as your sweet hands slide over his bare shoulders and roam along his back.

“knew it.” you whisper against his lips with a giggle. “just admit it, won’t you?”

“just shut up and keep kissing me.” his biting words don’t match the endearing tone in his voice; a bark reduced to a whimper.

zoro grabs your chin, using it as leverage to keep your mouth on his, not letting you get another word out as you spiral into your desires, kissing him like it’s the only thing you were meant to do. now and forever.

after a few moments, he pulls back panting slightly and rests his forehead against yours in an attempt to regain his dizzying thoughts.

“do you ever wonder what’s next?” zoro asks, pulling his head up a little. the question slipping out of his mouth before he had a chance to reel it back in.

“like where we are headed next?” you tilt your head. “wherever the tide takes us, i suppose.”

“i meant you and me.” zoro can feel his face burn with vulnerability, embarrassment licking at his cheeks until they’re a pretty pink. he shifts a bit at the intensity so he can lay on his side, his arm coming up behind your head.

“oh!” your face melts into a smile as you turn toward him and suddenly he doesn’t feel so silly. “i do think about it, actually.”

“yeah?”

“yeah.” you nod, your finger trailing along his bicep, the corded muscles intertwining together such as your fates. “i don’t know what we’ll be doing but all i want is for us to do it together.”

your eyes met his gaze, luring him in as the depths of your devotion pools in your eyes. an expression he was no doubt returning.

together. what a nice word, one that holds so much value to him and eases the tension in his shoulders like the waves on the shore reclaim the sand. for those two years you were apart, during the dead of night when his mind would wander after a grueling day of training, his thoughts would land on you.

thoughts filled with nothing but adoration that soon turned into a steady love once you reunited, side by side once again.

a love that could only be expressed as how the ocean loves the shore. gentle waves lapping against the sand, forever fated to find your way back to each other one way or another whether it be a slow crawl or a violent reunion, destiny had made its decision.

“me too.” he squeezes you, pressing a chaste kiss along your hairline. “together.”

thank you so much for reading ᰔ

[faithshouseofchaos]

More than anything || Lando Norris x fem!best friend!reader

Word count— 6.9K

warnings — angst undertones, reader and Lando love each other but they are in denial about their feelings for each other.

Smut, oral fem receiving, brief fingering (fem) P in V unprotected sex, Lando and readers are both switches, soft!dom Lando brief soft!dom reader, praise and body worship.

Tagging — @astraeaworld @ashy-kit @alwayzbeenale @67-angelofthelordme-67 @amatswimming @a-casual-romantic @bblouifford @badassturtle13 @bbtoni @barcelonaloverf1life @charlesf1leclerc @crashingwavesofeuphoria @clowngirlsstuff @dark-night-sky-99 @dudenhaaa27 @eugene-emt-roe @embrosegraves @faithsotherhouseofchaos @f1ln4dr3cl16mv33 @hangmandruigandmav @hollie911 @jeffs77 @ironcowboycopnickel @lipringlrh @lightdragonrayne @lollypop90907 @laura-naruto-fan1998 @moss-on-tmblr @natailiatulls07 @llando4norris @omgsuperstarg @oconswrld @otako5811 @purplephantomwolf @scotlynaurora @toasttt11 @uluvjay @vellicora @venusisnothere

You had been friends with Lando for as long as you could remember”back when the world was simpler, and the only thing that mattered was which video game you were going to play or which movie you’d queue up for a late-night marathon. You’d met at the race track a few years ago, and the connection had been instant”easy, comfortable like you’d known each other for years.

But lately, things have been changing. And neither of you was brave enough to address it.

"Hey, you alright?" Lando's voice broke through your thoughts as you fiddled with the edge of your drink, staring into the cup more than you should. He was leaning on the table, casual as ever, but the way his gaze lingered on you for just a fraction too long made your stomach flip.

You blinked, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “You sure? You’ve been kinda off tonight.”

“I’m just... not used to these late nights,” you shrugged, a half-lie, but it was easier than admitting what was going on”your thoughts had become a jumbled mess of Lando this and Lando that, and you were pretty sure that it wasn’t just a passing phase anymore.

Lando tilted his head, clearly considering pushing further, but he just gave a small nod. “Well, if you need me to kick anyone’s ass for you, just say the word.”

You laughed, trying to shake off the tension. “You’re such a dork, Norris.”

He grinned, and for a moment, it felt like nothing had changed. Like you were still the same two idiots who spent hours arguing about nothing and everything at the same time. But then, for a split second, you saw the way his eyes softened, and for the briefest of moments, you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe... maybe he wasn’t joking about being there for you.

Lando felt a pang in his chest at your words”it was so obvious you were deflecting, but he couldn’t press any further without giving himself away. The truth was, it was getting harder and harder to ignore the way his heart sped up whenever you were around, the way his skin tingled whenever your hand accidentally brushed against his.

But he couldn’t say anything. There was too much at stake”the friendship you’d built, the comfort and familiarity of it all. It was too good to lose over a silly, confusing crush.

He sipped his drink, trying to act casual, but he could feel the tension growing between you both”awkward, charged, like the air before a storm. He wanted to say something, anything, to break the tension, but every opening line he could think of sounded wrong in his head.

Instead, he just settled for watching the way your eyes darted around the room, never really focusing on anything for more than a second. You seemed... off, and the fact that you wouldn’t tell him why was eating him alive.

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. He leaned a little closer, his voice lowering to a whisper. “Seriously, you’re sure you’re alright? You can tell me if something’s going on, you know. I mean, we’re friends, right?”

He didn’t miss the way you tensed up at his question, and it sent a pang of anxiety through him. Had he said something wrong? Was he pushing too hard?

You forced another smile, trying to maintain the facade. “Yeah, of course, we’re friends. Just like always,” you said.

Lando’s frown deepened. That wasn’t the response he was expecting. He had a feeling there was more going on than you were letting on, and the thought was driving him crazy.

He chewed on his lower lip, weighing his words. “Then why do I get the feeling that you're not telling me something? You've been acting weird for a while now”you're not as yourself.”

He waited, studying your reaction. There it was again—that flicker in your eye whenever he mentioned something to do with your behavior.

You swallowed hard, the guilt churning in your stomach. You wanted to tell him”you did. But the words lodged in your throat stuck somewhere between fear and uncertainty.

“It's...it's nothing, I promise,” you insisted, trying to keep your tone light.

But Lando wasn’t buying it. He knew you too well at this point”he could read the signs of a lie better than the track maps he studied religiously.

Sighing, Lando set his mug on the coffee table before gently taking yours out of your hand, setting it right next to yours, and holding your hands in his own. 

Lando's touch was soft, his eyes fixed intently on yours. The heat from his hands soaked into your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Please, just talk to me,” he said, his voice unusually serious. “I know something's not right”I can see it, okay? Do you think I haven't noticed that you've been acting weird around me? And you won't even tell me why.”

You could hear the worry in his voice, see it in the lines of his face. Dammit, you had made Lando Norris worry. Guilt clawed at your chest”you hated that you were the one to cause that look in his eyes. 

You swallowed hard, your throat feeling tight. You wanted to pour out all your feelings right then”about how every touch lately made your skin blaze and how you stayed up at night listening to old voice notes he sent you.

But instead, you just sighed, your shoulders slumping in defeat. “It’s just...it’s complicated, okay?”

Lando tilted his head, a silent encouragement to continue. He was listening now, really listening, his gaze never leaving yours. “Did someone hurt you? Because if they did tell me I’ll take care of it.” Lando says slightly panicked he couldn’t stand the thought of you being hurt in some way the whole thought made his stomach upset.

Your heart clenched at his words”he was always so protective, so quick to defend you from any possible harm. The thought of him going to bat for you was both endearing and a little heart-breaking. 

“No, no, it’s nothing like that, I promise,” you reassured him quickly. This wasn’t what you had been worried about, but somehow, your lie only made you feel worse.

“Then darlin tell me what’s bugging you” he pleaded. There was that nickname again. The one that made your heart skip a beat and your palms start to sweat. You bit your lip, hesitating, wondering if you were ready to bear your soul to him like this.

“It’s—it’s stupid, really,” you mumbled, avoiding his gaze. Lando leaned in closer, a crease forming on his forehead. “Hey, look at me,” he said, gently tilting your chin up to meet his eyes. “If it’s bothering you like this, it’s not stupid.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his touch, the soft pressure of his fingertips on your skin. Lando was closer now”so close that you could see the flecks of gold in his normally blue eyes. Somehow, despite everything, your feelings for him had only grown, intensified and there was no burying it anymore.

“It's...it's you,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself, your heart racing. It was like once you started, the words just kept coming.

"Every time I'm around you, I just...I feel different. Like, I get all fluttery and nervous, and my brain turns to pudding. And I can't stop thinking about you, and..."

You paused, your words catching in your throat. You hadn't meant to dump it all out like that, but once you started, you couldn’t stop.

Lando's eyes widened as you spoke, disbelief and surprise warring on his face. He’d known something was up, but he hadn’t expected this”to hear that you were going through the same things he was. 

For a moment, he just sat there, dumbfounded, his grip on your chin still loose but his touch still there. Then, softly, almost reverently, he breathed a single word. “Me?”

You almost laughed” it was so typical for Lando. Even when you were pouring your heart out, the idiot still found some way to be charming. 

“Yes, you,” you said flatly, rolling your eyes in a vain attempt to hide your nerves. “Who the hell else would I be talking about?”

Lando chuckled, a soft rumble in his chest, and somehow, you could feel the tension slowly seeping out of the situation.

“I just…I can’t believe it,” he confessed. “I’ve been going crazy over the same thing for months now, I didn’t think you’d feel the same way”

He trailed off, looking at you with a mix of disbelief and something bordering on awe. You stared at him, your mouth open in surprise. Had he just confessed what you thought he had?

“Wait, back up. You” You pointed a shaky finger at him, your words coming out in a jumble, “You’ve had a crush on me for months?”

Lando looked sheepish, like a kid caught sneaking cookies. He rubbed the back of his neck, a sheepish little smile on his face. “Yeah,” he almost winced at the admission, like he expected you to start laughing any moment. “I know, it’s stupid, but I couldn’t help it. Every time we hung out or talked, or even just it was like I’d just lose my mind.”

He huffed a dry laugh, looking down at his hands, “I never thought I never thought you felt the same.”

Your heart felt like it could burst out of your chest at his words. Lando Norris, the flirty, carefree prince of Formula 1, had a crush on you, a normal, average girl. It didn’t seem real.

“God, we’re both idiots,” you breathed, the words slipping out before you could stop them. Lando looked up at you, eyebrows raised, a mixture of amusement and relief on his face. “Why’s that?” he asked, a hint of a smile on the edge of his lips.

You huffed, shaking your head. “Because neither of us had the balls to say anything until now.” Lando barked a laugh, leaning back against the couch. “That’s a fair point.”

He glanced sidelong at you, some of the easy confidence returning to his usual swagger. “Although I have to say, I’m still a little surprised you never noticed.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “How was I supposed to notice? You’re a big flirt. How was I supposed to know I wasn’t just another one on your list?”

“I could never let you be just another girl on my list,” Lando murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, as he gazes deeply into your eyes. The weight of his words hangs in the air, and an electric tension envelops the space between you. You can feel your heart racing, each pulse resonating with the intensity of the moment. Lando’s expression is earnest, revealing a vulnerability that makes your breath catch in your throat. The world around you fades away, leaving only the two of you, locked in this intimate moment, where all your past encounters seem to dissolve, and only the possibility of something deeper remains.

Your heartbeat hammers in your chest, a cacophony of emotion swirling inside. Lando's confession is more than your racing mind can handle. You hadn't expected to hear those words from him.

You opened your mouth, trying to find the right response, an appropriate reaction to the raw honesty in his eyes. Yet, no words come out. All you can do is sit there, caught between wanting to believe his words and a lingering uncertainty. His eyes are unwavering, fixed on yours, waiting.

Lando looks at you, his gaze unwavering. He can see the storm of emotions playing over your face, the way your mind is racing to make sense of all this. But he isn’t deterred. For him, this isn’t just another flirty banter, another attempt to charm someone into a night of fun. This is real the realest he’s ever felt about anything in his life.

He reaches out, his fingertips just barely brushing your cheek. The touch is light, and gentle, as if he’s afraid of scaring you away with too much pressure.

The soft touch of his fingertips against your skin sends a shiver down your spine, a stark contrast to the chaotic thoughts swirling in your mind. And yet, despite the confusion and surprise, you find yourself leaning into his touch, almost unconsciously.

“I mean it,” Lando says softly as if reading the unspoken doubt in your silence. His eyes are earnest and intense. “I don’t just … I don’t just ‘flirt’ with everyone. You’r… you’re different.” 

Your heart clenches at his words, his quiet honesty. Part of you wants to believe him, to take a leap of faith and trust that this isn’t just empty words. But the other part, the part ruled by doubt and fear, keeps you rooted in place.

“How am I different?” you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze. Lando takes a moment to think before answering, his fingers still tracing light circles on your cheek. His touch is soothing, and grounding a small patch of calm in the whirlpool of emotions.

“You’re different because you’re you,” he finally replies, his voice firm, certain. “You’re not just another girl I flirt with. You’ve been my friend forever. You know me better than anyone. And yet, somehow, you still like me. For me, not just for the thrill of it all.”

The words hit you like a wrecking ball, knocking the air right out of your lungs. He was right. You had been more than willing to accept Lando for all his flaws, his quirks, his vices”everything that made him who he was. And somehow, miraculously, he was offering you the same in return.

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” you whisper, your voice wavering, betraying the lingering threads of doubt. Lando's expression softens, his touch becoming more gentle, more reassuring. “I can’t promise we’re going to be perfect, darling,” he admits quietly. “There’ll be rough spots, I know that. But I can promise I’ll be there for you, through all of it.”

He takes a breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “I can promise I’ll try, with everything I’ve got. To make you happy, to keep you safe, to be good for you.” You look up at Lando, your heart in your throat. Everything in you wants to believe in his words, in the sincerity behind his eyes. But the fear of the unknown, the uncertainty of what the future holds, still whispers doubts in your ear.

“I want to believe you, Lando. I do,” you confess, your voice barely audible. “But I’m scared. I’m scared of getting hurt, of losing what we already have.”

“I know,” Lando nods, his thumb gently stroking your cheek. “I get it. I’m scared too.”

He takes a moment, swallowing hard. “But I’m also tired. I’m tired of pretending. Tired of dancing around what both of us have been feeling for months now.”

His hand cups your face then, his touch becoming firmer, more certain. “I’m tired of not having you as more than a friend. And I think...I think you are, too.”

Your eyes flutter shut at his touch, your breath catching in your throat. You hate that he’s right, hate the way his words resonate deep within you. You had been longing for this for months”years if you were being honest with yourself. 

You open your eyes again, meeting his gaze. The fear is still there, the doubts still niggling at the edge of your mind, but now...now they’re overpowered by something else. Hope.

“Lando?”

Lando lets out a quiet hum, keeping his gaze fixed on you. He looks as if he’s almost holding his breath, waiting for you to speak.

“Yeah?” he replies, his voice soft, almost tentative.

“Kiss me please?” you ask your voice barely above a whisper. Lando’s eyes widened a fraction, the shock on his face quickly giving way to a look of breathless awe. He looks at you like he can’t quite believe what you’ve just said.

But then, his lips pull into a smile”a bright, brilliant, beautiful smile that makes your heart skip a beat. 

“I thought you’d never ask,” he breathes out, and then his hand moves from your cheek to cup the back of your neck, pulling you in towards him. The moment your lips meet his, it's like the world disappears. All the noise, the worries, the doubts, they all melt away, leaving nothing but the sensation of Lando's lips on yours.

His mouth is warm, gentle at first, and then with growing confidence as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer to him. His touch is electrifying, sending shockwaves through your body as his hands pull you onto his lap.

You reach up to tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer, and tasting the sweetness of his lips. You’ve been craving this for so long years of yearning compressed into this single moment of release. His hands move under your shirt, skimming over the bare skin of your back, making you shiver against his touch.

The kiss seems to go on forever a sweet, slow, burning kind of kiss that makes the outside world fade completely. There’s only Lando, only the heat of his body against yours, the pounding of your heart, the way his tongue teases yours, sending sparks straight to your veins.

Finally, you break apart, both of you gasping for air, your foreheads pressed together as you cling to each other. Lando’s eyes are dark, pupils dilated with something primal, something possessive. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he whispers, breathless, his hand still tracing patterns across your bare skin, sending shivers down your spine.

“I think I might have some idea,” you reply, your breathing still ragged. “You’ve made it pretty damn obvious, you know.”

You can see the hint of a cocky grin on Lando’s face as he ducks his head, burying his face into the crook of your neck, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “Can you blame me?” he mumbles against your skin, his lips trailing down to your collarbone. “You’re pretty damn irresistible.”

The feel of his teeth, the scrape of his stubble against your skin it’s driving you insane. Every nerve in your body is on fire, every sense keyed into his touch, his breath, his voice. “I feel like I’ve been going crazy,” Lando murmurs as he nips at your earlobe. “Months of trying to keep my hands off you, trying to pretend I didn’t want you more than I’ve ever wanted anything. I thought I was going to lose my goddamn mind.” 

“Imagine what it’s been like for me,” you reply, your voice hitching as he finds a particularly sensitive spot just below your ear. “Watching you smile and flirt with everyone but me. Listening to you talk about your dates…it was torture.”

Lando pulls back at that, his expression turning apologetic. “God, I’m sorry, darling. But you weren’t exactly making it easy for me either, you know. Looking all cute and pretty and yeah,” he finishes lamely, his face reddening.

You can’t help but smirk at that. “Not my fault you can’t handle a little temptation,” you tease, poking his chest lightly. Lando huffs, his competitiveness flaring as he nips at your finger. “Oh, I can handle temptation just fine,” he retorts with a hint of a growl. “I’ve been handling it for months, thank you very much.”

He pulls you back onto his lap, his arms wrapping around you, possessive, and suddenly his mouth is on your neck again, his teeth scraping over your pulse point, making you gasp.

“You were handling it, were you?” you tease between gasps, arching against him as his tongue trails down the column of your throat. “Doesn’t seem like you were handling it very well”

His hands slide under your shirt, his touch roaming over your back, your waist, his thumbs dipping under the edge of your bra.

“Trust me, love,” Lando says in a low voice, his hands mapping out every inch of your skin, “You have no idea what kind of self-control I’ve had to exercise. There were times I wanted to pin you against a wall and just..”

His words trail off, but the way his hands grip your hips, the way he tugs you flush against him, make it pretty clear what he wanted to do. “What stopped you, then?” you ask, biting back a moan as his lips find your collarbone, his teeth grazing over the sensitive skin. “You seemed to have no problem going after every other girl you wanted”

Lando lets out a soft huff, his forehead resting against your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. “Because it was never just a one-night thing, darling,” he mutters, almost too quiet to hear. “None of them they weren’t you.”

His hand comes up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, and when he looks at you, there’s a vulnerability in his eyes that’s almost staggering.

Your heart clenches at his words, the raw honesty in his eyes robbing you of speech. You’d expected flirty charm and cocky banter, but this…this was something else altogether. Lando Norris, the heartthrob of Formula 1, the man who could have any girl he wanted, was admitting to you, just you, that he’d never wanted anyone the way he wanted you.

“Lando I need you so bad,” you say hoping for something to happen between you. Lando’s breath hitches at your words, his grip on you tightening slightly as if he’s barely holding himself back. “Yeah?” he breathes out, his voice shaky, laced with desire. “How bad, darling?”

“Bad enough that I don’t think I can take it anymore,” you confess, your voice quivering. Everything in you is on fire, every nerve endings craving his touch, his lips, his body. You want him, desperately, urgently, and you can see in his eyes that he wants you just as badly.

Lando curses under his breath, his hands gripping your hips as he holds you against him. You feel the hardness of his arousal against you, and the knowledge nearly makes you dizzy. Lando leans forward, his lips finding your ear, his breath hot against your skin.

“You have no idea the things I want to do to you, darling,” he murmurs, his voice rough, gravelly with need. “Show me,” you breathe out, your voice hoarse, filled with aching need. “I want to see. I want to know.” 

Lando lets out a low moan, his fingers digging into your hips as he turns you so you’re laying on your back on the couch, with him hovering over you, his weight pressing you into the cushion.

His lips are back on your neck, his teeth scraping against your skin as his hands slide under your shirt, pushing the fabric up and off, revealing your bare stomach. His mouth follows the path of his hands, leaving a trail of scorching kisses down to the edge of your bra. 

Lando looks up at you, his eyes dark with desire, a silent question in his gaze. You nod, breathless, your body yearning for his touch. Lando hooks a finger under the elastic of your bra, the touch of his knuckles against your skin making you shudder. He tugs the bra off, tossing it onto the floor, and then leans forward to capture your lips in a searing kiss. 

His hands roam over your bare chest, fingers dancing over your sensitive skin, igniting a thousand little fires everywhere he touches.

Lando moves his kisses from your lips down to your chest, his mouth trailing down to the valley between your breasts. You arch against him, your body craving more, needing more of his touch, more of him.

“God, you’re stunning,” he murmurs between kisses, his voice wavering, filled with awe. “I’ve wanted you like this for so long, darling so damn long” 

“I’m right here,” you gasp out, arching your back as his lips close around one nipple, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud. “It’s not just you who’s been going crazy, you know I’ve wanted this too, god, so many times I thought I was going to go crazy”

Lando chuckles against your skin, the vibration sending another wave of heat through you. “Good to know I haven’t been the only one going mad,” he murmurs, his mouth trailing down your stomach, his hands roaming over your sides. “I couldn’t focus in a race for weeks just thinking about you like this, darling, about how you’d look, how you’d how you’d taste”

He kisses the inside of your hip, his beard scraping against your skin, and then his thumbs are hooking under the waistband of your sweatpants, beginning to pull them down. You lift your hips to help him tug them off, your heart hammering against your ribs in anticipation.

Lando looks down at you, his eyes roaming over your body, taking in every inch of bare skin. He curses under his breath, his pupils dilated with desire. “God, look at you,” he mutters, running a trembling hand down your side. “You’re so perfect so goddamn perfect”

He moves between your legs, his hands gripping your hips, his touch firm but gentle. “All these months, I’d fantasize about this, about you, laid out like this just for me,” he mumbles, leaning down to press kisses along your inner thighs. “I never thought I’d get to see it for real”

“I never thought I’d let you see,” you reply breathlessly, your hands tangling in his hair. “But I’m all yours now, Lando. All yours. Show me what you’ve been thinking about”

Lando groans at your words, his thumb rubbing circles on your hip as he positions himself between your legs. His lips are back on your skin, kissing and sucking and nipping, slowly moving up your thigh until you can feel his breath against your aching core. 

“You’re sure?” he asks in a gravelly voice, his eyes meeting yours.

You nod, words failing you. Desire is coursing through your veins like a drug, making you dizzy and needy and aching for more. “Please, Lando,” you manage to say, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please, I need you don’t make me wait anymore.”

Lando lets out another low moan, his breath hot against your skin. “God, I love it when you beg,” he mutters, his voice rough with desire. “I’m gonna give you everything you need, darling everything you want”

His mouth finally finds your core, and it’s almost enough to make you scream. His tongue is doing glorious things, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from bucking against him, the pleasure almost too much to bear.

“L-Lando,” you gasp out brokenly, your hands twisting in his hair, holding on for dear life.

Lando hums against you, the vibrations sending another wave of pleasure through you. His grip on your hips tightens as his tongue continues its wicked dance, bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

“God, you taste even better than I imagined,” he mutters, his words muffled against your skin. “I want to hear you, darling want to know I’m making you feel good.”

You can’t help but obey, his words and his touch driving you to the brink of madness. A steady stream of moans and gasps falls from your lips, and Lando groans in response like he’s enjoying your pleasure just as much as you are. 

Just when you think you can’t take any more, Lando’s mouth moves away from your core, leaving you feeling bereft, aching with unfulfilled need.

“Why’d you stop?” you gasp out, looking down at him with hazy eyes. Lando grins at you, his lips glistening with your desire. 

“Because I’m not done with you yet, darling,” he murmurs as he moves back up your body, his body settling on top of you, his weight pressing you into the couch. “You’re cruel, you know,” you murmur, a shiver running through you as you feel the hard length of his arousal pressing against you. “Leaving me like that all needy and aching for you.”

“You’ll just have to suffer a little while longer,” Lando replies, his voice dripping with feigned innocence, his lips curving into a smirk. He nips at your shoulder, then brushes his lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “Just think about how good it’ll feel when I finally give you what you want, love how good I’m going to make you feel”

You whine in frustration, arching against him, your body desperate for release. Lando laughs against your skin, his hands roaming over your body, igniting a thousand little fires everywhere he touches.

“Look at you, all needy for me,” he murmurs, his voice gravelly with desire. “God, I love seeing you like this all desperate and begging me I could get addicted to it, you know.”

You’re helpless against him, your body putty in his skillful hands. Every touch, every press of his lips is sending electricity through your veins, lighting up your nerves. You’re so close to the edge, clinging to it desperately as Lando continues to drive you wild.

“Please, Lando, please,” you plead, your voice breathless, desperate. “I need you I need you so much I need I need”

“What do you need, love?” Lando murmurs, his fingers tracing a path up your inner thigh, dancing ever closer to where you need him most. “You’ll have to use your words, darling I want to hear you say it”

You let out a strangled moan, your body quivering with tension. “I need I need you to touch me,” you finally manage to gasp out, your voice thick with need. “Please, Lando make me feel good I can’t take anymore I can’t”

Lando lets out a low growl at your words, his hand finally moving to where you need him most. His fingers dip between your folds, finding the sensitive bundle of nerves and stroking it lightly, making you shudder in ecstasy.

“You’re so damn wet, love,” he mutters, his voice rough with desire. “So goddamn responsive for me ... .I've just been touching you for a few minutes and you’re already falling apart in my arms “Feels feels so good,” you gasp out, your body arching against his touch. Your senses are completely overwhelmed, your whole world narrowed down to the feeling of Lando’s fingers, the sound of his voice, the feel of his weight on top of you. Everything else is distant, hazy, and insignificant compared to him.

“That’s it, darling,” Lando murmurs, his fingers moving more quickly, his touch firmer. “Let go I’ve got you I’m right here I’m gonna take care of you .”

His other hand is cupping your face, his thumb brushing over your cheek, his eyes fixed on yours, dark, possessive, intense.

“I need to feel you,” you gasp out between moans, your body clenching tight around his fingers. “Please, Lando I want you I need you.”

Lando’s breath hitches at your words, his eyes darkening even further. “God, you have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice shaking. “You’re goddamn perfect, you know that? Perfect and mine. All mine”

“More,” you murmur, your body pleading for release. “Please, Lando, more I need more.”

Lando’s thumb is circling over your clit, his fingers moving deeper, faster, driving you to the brink of insanity. “Is this enough, darling?” he asks, his voice rough but his touch still gentle. “Or do you need even more? Tell me what you want, love I’ll give you whatever you need.

“You.” The word comes out barely coherent, but you manage to force it out in a gasp. “I want you. I need you. All of you. I can’t take this anymore, Lando. I can’ please.”

Lando’s eyes widen at your words, a guttural moan escaping his lips. “Christ, darlin’,” he mutters, his voice tight with control, “you keep talking like that, and that’ll be over before it even starts.”

“Then don’t make me wait anymore,” you beg, your body trembling with need. “Please, Lando, I don’t think I can take it I need to feel you I need you now”

Lando’s fingers continue their torturous rhythm, his other hand holding your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. You can see the struggle for control in his eyes, the tension in his body, the barely contained desire. He’s just as desperate as you are, just as needy.

“Are you sure, darlin?” he asks, his voice strained with self-control. “Once I give you what you want, I won’t be able to stop. I won’t be able to hold back anymore I’ll take you right here and now, just like you want. are you sure you’re ready for that?”

You’ve never been more certain of anything in your life. You nod, the word tumbling out of you, pleading, desperate. “Yes. Yes. God, Lando yes, I’m ready. More than ready. I want you, all of you. Now. Please”

A guttural moan escapes Lando’s lips at your words, the sound raw and primal. “God, you’re going to be the death of me, darlin,” he mutters, his hands moving to your hips, gripping them as he positions himself between your legs. “But goddammit I’m not going to fight it anymore”

He leans down, his lips claiming yours in a fierce, possessive kiss, his body pressed fully against yours. You can feel his need, his desire, his desperation mirrored in every movement, in every slide of his tongue against yours. His hands shift to your thighs, spreading your legs wider, aligning your bodies perfectly.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he mutters between kisses, his voice rough, hoarse with lust. “So goddamn perfect all laid out for me all mine.”

His hips press against yours, the heat, the hardness of his arousal making you gasp against his lips. “I need you, darlin,” he mutters, his hands skimming up your sides, his touch sending sparks of heat through you. “I need you so damn much it hurts I can’t hold back anymore I can’t”

“Then don’t,” you whisper, your body arching against his, pleading for him. “Please, Lando don’t hold back anymore I’m all yours please”

Lando lets out another guttural moan, his control finally snapping. “God, darlin, the things you do to me goddamn ”

He shifts his weight, positioning himself at your entrance, the tension in his body like a coiled spring. “You sure about this, love? You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” you murmur, your body aching with need, your heart filled with a certainty you’ve never felt before. “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life, Lando. I want you, goddammit, I need you and I’m yours just please.”

Your words are like a match to a fuse, igniting the last shred of his control. Lando lets out a guttural moan, his hands gripping your hips, his body tense, trembling with the effort of restraining himself. He takes a shaky breath, his blue eyes meeting yours, dilated with desire.

“You’re mine, darlin,” he repeats, his voice a hoarse whisper. “All mine.”

And with that, he finally surrenders to his need, his control shattered. His body sheathes itself within you, filling you, stretching you, claiming you in a way that’s primal and possessive and perfect. A moan tears from your throat, your body arching against his, sparks of pleasure dancing through you, igniting every nerve.

Lando lets out a guttural groan, his body shuddering against yours. “God, you feel so good,” he gasps out, his hands gripping your hips tightly. “So damn perfect you’re going to be the death of me, darlin”

Your world narrows down to the sensation of him within you, his body moving against yours, the feel of his hands, his mouth, his body on and around you. Your whole world is Lando: his breath against your skin, the taste of his neck, the feel of his body moving against yours.

“God, yes,” you gasp out between moans, your body meeting his every thrust, your hands tracing over his back, feeling the shifting muscles beneath your palms. “Lando—Lando God, you feel so good so perfect”

"Oh, lord have mercy-" you gasped your eyes rolling at the back of your head. 

 "Oh, he had plenty when he made you. My. fucking. Friend." Lando says between thrusts.

Lando’s words are like fuel to the fire, igniting a heat within you that’s almost primal, almost feral. You cling to him, your body quivering, your nails digging into his skin. He lets out another guttural moan, his body trembling with the effort of holding back, his restraint paper-thin.

"I don’t think I’m going to last much longer, darlin," he gasps out, his voice rough, strained. "You feel too good too perfect”

"Just let go, Lando," you breathe out, your voice hoarse, a plea, a command, a plea. "I want you to. Come for me show me how good I make you feel"

Lando’s body shudders at your words, his control finally, blissfully breaking. “Goddammit, darlin, you have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters, his voice a hoarse growl. “You drive me wild, love god damn I can’t—I can’t”

He leans his forehead against yours, his eyes locked on yours, his body trembling, taut, quivering with tension. “Are you close, darlin?” he gasps out, his voice tight, strangled.

You nod, your body clenching around him, your hands clinging to his shoulders, your breaths coming in short, ragged gasps. “Im—I’m so close, Lando,” you manage to gasp out, your eyes meeting his, filled with a mixture of pleasure and desperation. 

Lando’s eyes darken at your words, a possessive, primal spark igniting in his gaze. “That’s it, darlin,” he murmurs, his body moving faster, harder, deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps against your skin. “Let go for me. Let go for me I want to feel you I want to feel you come undone in my arms”

You’re helpless to resist his pleas, your body quivering, ready to burst. His voice, his touch, his body, it’s all too much, too intense. You’re teetering on the edge, so close to the precipice, hanging on by a mere thread.

“L-Lando” you manage to moan out, your voice shaky, breathless. “I’m—I’m—I’m”

Lando’s body trembles with the effort of holding back, his restraint hanging on by a thread. “That’s it, darlin,” he gasps out, his voice ragged, tight. “Let go. Let go, darling. I’ve got you I’ve got you”

The tension finally snaps, your body seizing up, a wave of ecstasy crashing over you like a wall of fire. You cry out, your nails digging into Lando’s back, your body shuddering with the force of your release.

Lando lets out a guttural moan at the feeling, his body tensing, his hips stuttering, his control finally, blissfully broken. “Goddammit, darlin,” he mutters, his voice a hoarse gasp. “That’s it that’s it I’m right there with you, darlin,” he gasps out, his body shuddering against yours, his release crashing over him like a tsunami. “Goddamn you’ve got me completely wrecked, love…I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to recover.”

You cling to him, both of you trembling in the aftermath, holding onto each other for dear life. The room is filled with the sounds of your panting breaths, the thump of your heartbeats, the rustle of the sheets beneath you.

Lando’s arms wrap around you, his body pressing against yours, holding you tightly to him. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. He’s still shaking, still quivering with the aftershocks of the pleasure you’ve just experienced together.

"Goddamn, darlin," he mutters, his voice low, rough. "You wreck me. Every time. You completely wreck me." 

You let out a soft, contented sigh, your body relaxing into his embrace. “That was…that was intense,” you murmur, your fingers tracing lazy circles over his back. “I don’t think I can feel my legs.”

Lando lets out a soft, hoarse chuckle at your words, the sound vibrating against your skin. “That’s what I was aiming for, darlin,” he mutters, his lips brushing over your neck. “I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a few days.”

“You succeeded,” you say, a smile curving your lips, your body still tingling, still humming with the aftermath. “I don’t think I’m ever going to be the same after that.”

Lando lets out a soft, possessive moan at your words, his arms tightening around you. “Good,” he mutters, his lips moving over your skin, “because I plan on doing that to you again and again, darlin. Over and over. Until you can’t even remember your own name.”

You let out a soft, contented sigh, a shiver of anticipation running through you. “Is that a promise?” you murmur, your voice soft, sultry.

Lando lets out a low rumble of affirmation, his lips finding the sensitive spot behind your ear. “It’s a promise, darlin,” he whispers, his breath hot against your skin. “I’m going to keep you in bed for days, love. Until you forget everything except my name.”

You shiver at the possessive, primal note in his voice, the promise in his words. “You’re going to wear me out,” you murmur, your body already stirring with renewed desire.

Lando lets out another low rumble, his hands beginning to wander over your body, reigniting the fire between you. “That’s the plan, darlin,” he mutters, his lips moving down your neck, “to wear you out and then wear you out some more. I can’t get enough of you, love. I never will.”

You let out a soft, wanton moan, your body arching against his, your heart swelling with a mixture of pleasure and desire. “You’re insatiable,” you murmur, your fingers tangling in his hair.

"Only with you, darling . Only you,”

[comicallylargemango]

🥭 : teeheeheehee author here, I've been having major Francis brainrot so now I gotta show the world :3 (I can now proudly call myself one of the first few people to write a Francis X reader)

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Francis Mosses/Milkman x DDD! Gen! Reader

Other: some swearing, shit talking, mentions of injuries, reader is using crutches (caused by the injuries), reference to the red handed doppelganger.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

It had been a long day at work, there were more doppelgangers than usual and it really took a toll on you. A doppelganger even started, about how all this was useless and blah blah blah they'd win anyway. It even fought back, and boy did it put on a fight.

You limped on your bandaged leg as you mainly used your crutches to walk, not your first time to have been injured so badly you had to use crutches. You sighed exhaustedly and you imagined your Husband lightly reprimanding you for being so careless once he got home, you quickly brushed that thought away and went back to focusing on getting home.

As you got to the door man's window, you painstakingly take out your ID and entrance request, the Doorman raised a worried eyebrow at your state.

"Bad day at work?" She asked while examining your ID and entrance request.

"Tell me about it." You only sighed and leaned on the small counter Infront of the window to give your (working) leg a break.

"Everything seems good..." She murmured, "you're good to go."

"Thanks." You thanked her and started walking.

---------------------------------------------

You made your way to your shared apartment, letting out a sigh of relief as you jammed the key into the keyhole, twisting to doorknob.

Imagine the shock as your eyes land on your Husband sitting on the couch watching TV, he's usually home late in the afternoon. His head turns to look at you with a slight glimmer in his tired eyes.

You smile softly as he makes his way towards you at the doorway, making notice of your crutches and bandaged leg. The cuts, scratches, and dirt on your clothes and skin didn't go unnoticed either.

"What happened this time..?" Francis asked worriedly. Guiding you to the bathroom to change.

You took your dirtied shirt off as Francis looked away blushing slightly, making his way to the bedroom to get you some clothes.

He arrived soon, still looking away until you gently turned his face to meet you.

Sighing exasperatedly, you softly kissed him on the nose while taking the clothes from his hands, smiling tenderly as you see the ring on his finger.

"I'll tell you after I'm done, thank you Fran."

He simply hummed and looked you up and down, making you smile as a blush tinted your cheeks.

you had a hard time taking your pants and bandages off, that's when you noticed Francis still looking at you, leaning on the doorway with a concerned look on his face.

"Do you... Need any help?" He spoke up, standing up straight and rubbing the back of his neck.

Your eyes softened as you nodded. He made his way over to you to help you stand up, taking care in taking off the rest of your clothing.

His eyes roamed your body, growing more anxious as he takes note of every single scratch and cut. Meanwhile you were nearly falling asleep from his hands gingerly tending to you.

You only woke up from your half asleep state when you heard him speak again.

"Why don't you take a break for a day?" Asked as he turned you around to peck you on the lips, setting you down on the bathtub as he twisted the handle. Checking the temperature and adjusting it according to your liking.

You, once again dozing off. Absentmindedly muttered your answer.

"I should be asking you that." You chuckled softly, turning to look at Francis as he took off his clothes to join you. "Looking good Fran." He blushed.

He scoffed light heartedly as he took a seat behind you so in that way you were sat right in-between his legs with your back facing him.

"Seriously though, you've almost worried me to death. I can't handle seeing you like this, all..." He gestured to your leg as he sighed, applying a good amount of shampoo into your hair and massaging it into your scalp.

"Mmm, don't worry. I've been put on leave for a few weeks. Besides, This isn't the worst I've ever been." You leaned back into him, relishing the touch.

"Why didn't they just send you to stay at the hospital anyway? You would've been better there."

"Because I requested to be sent home, sweetie. I wasn't gonna spend two weeks at the hospital when I could be fine at home."

He washed off your hair and started applying the conditioner, "that's sweet, darling. But you really need to be more careful next time." He kissed the crook of your neck, enjoying the shiver that came from you.

"Hey it's not my fault my job is dangerous." You crossed your arms and exhaled.

"It kinda is, you applied for it after all."

"Fair enough."

He washed the conditioner off then dried your hair using the towels, helping you get out the Bathtub and handing you the towel to wrap yourself in. Doing the same for himself with another towel.

He walked to the bedroom to get himself clothes while you changed in the bathroom with the prepared clothes.

He returned soon after to help you out on the remaining clothes, wrapping some fresh bandages around your wounded leg. Also making sure to compliment your "Magical Ass" along the way.

you two made your way to the bedroom to rest, you immediately flopped down onto the bed which worried Francis. He had barely ever seen you this tired, he was exhausted himself but he can't imagine how tiring your day must've been to have completely drained you of energy.

"You gonna come over here or nah?" You snapped him out of his thoughts. he unfurrowed his eyebrows, not knowing he even did so. Mumbling a quick "sorry" before getting into bed with you.

You immediately grab him and snuggle him much like a child would sleep with their plushie. Despite being injured and all, you we're still very strong. As expected from the lead officer of DDD. he laughed through his nose as he turned to look at you and smiled softly. Kissing your forehead.

"Mind telling me what happened now?" He said, wrapping his arms around you to pull you impossibly closer. Burying his head into your chest. (Y'all can't tell me he ain't a chest man)

You sighed, recounting the events of today.

"We were called for another extermination, thought nothing of it until the stupid thing started talking about how this was useless and they'd just end up 'victorious' anyway." You hugged Francis tighter, letting out a huff of frustration as he hummed to let you know he was listening.

"It ended up getting it's hands on a piece of broken glass and I'm sure you can tell what happened next." You gestured to your leg.

"We called for backup a buncha times but they refused to send more people because apparently I'm a veteran officer and that somehow means everything is fine."

You yawned as you mumbled the last sentence. "Can you believe it Fran?"

"Sounds like the higher ups were being a dick." He replied, enjoying the sensation of your fingers drawing circles and shapes on his back.

"They were." You kissed the top of his head, Francis returned the favour by looking up and kissing the tip of your nose.

"Enough about my day, what about yours?"

Francis hummed, "yknow just the usual, Mara being the massive stick up my ass."

Mara, or Maratha. Was a daily customer Francis wouldn't mind losing, she was really a stinky old bitch, always complaining about nothing and everything at the same time. One of her usual complaints being that "the milk was more watered down than usual!".

"I don't even know why she's saying it to me as if I'm the one milking the cows, I'm just the one delivering it. Say it to my boss why don't ya?"

You snorted, "normal Mara behaviour."

"Normal Mara behaviour." He sighed. "And, there was this girl in that newly renovated building across the road who tried hitting on me?"

"What..?"

"Yeah, i don't even know her name. Told her I was married too but she wouldn't back off. She said something along the lines of 'marriages don't even last long. watch, she'll leave you in a few years.'. " He visibly cringed at the memory.

You laughed at his facial expression, "just because your parents are split doesn't mean others will too."

Francis started laughing with you, wrinkles forming at the edge of his tired eyes. "She didn't even buy milk, saying how they were 'putting microchips and chemicals into the milk.', ridiculous."

As the laughing died down, a comfortable silence settled in the air. Only the sound of your breaths and the occasional beep of a car, the sound of your heartbeat and rustling of the the trees outside.

If only it could stay this way forever, unfortunately though you may not have work, Francis does.

"What a shame, huh? I asked to get sent home instead of the hospital just for you to be at work most of the day. To think there's even some girl hitting on you while I'm not there." You said, eyes slowly closing.

"Mhm, I'll try and ask my boss for a day off tomorrow." He started dozing off, "and if he refuses Ill just put you on the phone."

You smiled triumphantly as you remember that time you had a meeting with his boss.

He looked so Nervous in agreeing for a day off for your husband that it made you wonder what would've been the outcome of you weren't a DDD officer.

"He'll have to accept then huh? Unless he wants to discuss the matter face to face with totally amazing and wonderful me." You joked sarcastically

Francis laughed through his nose, "you got that right dear." he smiled, eyes closed. "Hey, honey?"

"Yes Fran?" You whispered.

"I love you." He slurred, finally falling asleep.

"I love you more." You gave him one last kiss on the head before turning off the lamp and joining him in Dreamland.

★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★★

Should I make a part two?

A/N: eat up pookies

[ghost-proofbaby]

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

"HALLOWEEN PARTIES"

EXTRA CONTENT- "BEYOND THE HOURS"

→ pairings: modern!college!eddie x college!fem!reader → warnings: strong language, mentions of breeding kink, mentions of possible future pregnancy, lots of suggestive conversation and making out. not edited. upside down does not exist, minors dni → wc: 9.9k+ → a/n: @take-everything-you-can plagued me with thoughts of what our idiots would get up to on halloween, and i just couldn't help myself. it definitely spiraled out of control though. my bad. ALSO, QUICK DISCLAIMER: please if you get a snake don't do what reader and eddie did. snakes a homebodies. we are just going to pretend it's okay in this context for the name of fiction, alright? obligatory snake owner ramble over. let's GO.

enjoy the main story's masterlist here

The thumping of the bass was audible before you’d even exited the elevator fully. 

Any other day of the year, you’d assume your group of friends would be earning an instant noise complaint for the volume of the music coming from behind Steve and Robin’s apartment front door. But it wasn’t just any other day – it was Halloween, and somewhere amongst the rhythm of what surely had to be Steve blasting Abba, you could make out fellow neighbors playing music just as loudly. 

If anything, the overly quiet apartments were more concerning than the noisy ones. 

“Do you think Lestat is going to do okay with the music?” Eddie suddenly frets, one hand reaching to tug on what little fabric there was of his costume. It almost made you smile, a reminder of what exactly your usually ‘scary’ boyfriend was donning. 

Britney Spears, circa 2001. One of her most iconic VMA performances. 

He’d decided it the moment you two had come home several months ago with the most important accessory that was draped around his neck – a juvenile ball python named Lestat, who looked surprisingly content as he hung onto Eddie’s shoulders. 

“I don’t know,” you hum, looking over at Eddie, a little bit concerned now that he’d brought it up, “Maybe it’s a bad idea-”

“I’m texting Nance to turn the music down.” 

“What if it freaks him out?” 

“It’ll be fine.” 

“What if he gets stressed and bites you, Eddie?” 

To any onlooker, the sight of you might have been a bit funny. Furrowed brows, arms crossed, sticky blood spread out across your stomach and sternum. 

The theme tonight for the two of you had been iconic performances. Eddie insisted, and part of you knew he was just afraid to dress up so extravagantly all alone when it came to this small get-together, but you hadn’t hesitated to pull together your own version of Lady Gaga’s iconic VMA performance from 2009. If you two were going to commit to a theme this year, you were committing. 

Eddie balances his phone in one hand, typing with a single thumb. Impressive, given his history of ardently avoiding owning a smart phone. His other hand trails up to his collarbone, sneaking a careful finger below Lestat’s head, holding him up and pouting his lip a little, “This little guy? Biting me? He would never.” 

The sight was cute. Obnoxiously, overly, endearingly cute. 

“He’s still a snake,” you try to argue, stopping right outside of apartment 34C. The music was more clear now as it switched from whatever Abba tune had been playing to Maneater by Nelly Furtado, “If he gets scared enough, he might.” 

“I’d hardly call him a snake,” Eddie snorts, shoving his phone back into his pocket, smiling as he tilts his chin to awkwardly stare at the snake now carefully slithering over his knuckles, “Dude misses the mice on his first strike every time we feed him. And if there was ever a time he was going to bite me, it would have been when I was taking that moss out of his mouth as he was eating.”

That earns a huff of a laugh from you as well. The image of Eddie on Monday night, absolutely losing his mind as he’d noticed that Lestat had gotten his mouse entangled in some of the moss decorating his enclosure, not even hesitating to open the tank once more and throw his hand in right along with the tongs to prevent your new ‘son’ from ingesting it, crosses your mind. It hadn’t mattered how much you reassured him that it was probably normal in the wild, that Lestat’s body could certainly handle it. Eddie had been insistent and blinded by what could only be described by paternal instinct. 

If you’d asked yourself last Halloween if that had been where you see your life heading in a year’s time, you would have rolled your eyes. 

“You do realize how dumb that was of you, right?” you insist, remembering your fear and the way your breath had caught in the moment. It was funny now, but you’d never gripped onto Eddie’s shoulder tighter than when he’d recklessly done so. You loved the snake, you really did, but you’d realized in that moment you might still love Eddie just a little bit more. 

The conversation is cut short as it’s clear that Nancy had received Eddie’s text, the music behind the door quieting a bit along with a change of song. 

Your jaw nearly drops, “You did not make Nancy do that.” 

The opening notes of I’m a Slave 4 U were impossible to miss.

“I did.” 

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Are you gonna insult me the entire night, or let me make my iconic entrance?” 

You don’t get a chance to answer, Eddie carefully passing by you, Lestat’s head bouncing a little as it passes a bit closer to your face than you would have been comfortable with a few months ago. 

The snake, funnily enough, had even been your idea to begin with. Your want, your desperate argument you’d wasted countless breaths upon while getting ready for bed with Eddie. 

It’ll be fun, you’d whined to Eddie as you’d both crawled into bed, we even have the space in the living room. 

Sweetheart, you’re fucking terrified of snakes, Eddie had easily rebuttalled. He wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t stop you from huffing like a petulant child. 

That’s an exaggeration, you argued right back.

Your hands had still shook ferociously that first day of bringing home the snake when you’d been the one to move him from the small container the store had placed him and into the full fifty gallon tank now occupying a fairly large chunk of the apartment’s living room. 

You’re still lost in your head as the door swings open for Eddie right as the first chorus of the song begins. He’s dramatic, fully committed, a glimmer of who he must have been in high school shining right through as he struts confidently into your friends’ apartment. 

A version of Eddie you somehow missed despite never having met. You almost wonder if you would have still ended up here if you’d met then; you almost wonder if you would have still ended up at each other’s throats inevitably, even in those days. 

You probably would have. You secretly hope that it all would have still happened exactly as it has. 

“No fucking way!” 

Robin is the first voice you can hear excitedly shriek out a reaction to Eddie, followed by a sharp hush from Nancy. They’re deeper in the apartment, out of your line of sight. You can hear Jonathan’s muttered response lost in the music, and you can smell Argyle’s presence rather than hear or see it. 

Weed had been expected, but Steve and Robin were strict in their rule of only partaking on the balcony. 

“Yes fucking way,” Eddie responds, clearly giddy. You finally trail in behind him, not necessarily shy but certainly not nearly as extravagant as he had been. You hang back a bit, biting back a grin, just admiring your boy.

All warmth, rosey cheeks spread wide in his boyish grin, eyes bright as he wiggles his brows as Robin. 

“I didn’t think you’d actually do it,” Robin whispers as she rushes forward, glancing over her shoulder, clearly looking for Steve before she leans it a tad bit closer towards Lestat. 

“Mama didn’t raise a bitch,” Eddie snarkily replies, moving to slowly remove the snake from his neck. 

“Language,” you jokingly scold him, reaching out to take the snake from his hands as he brings it to his chest, giving Robin a closer look at the nearly-glimmering pale scales of your pet. Almost instinctively, he starts to pull the animal away, but once he sees the look on your face, he’s quick to hand him over. “No cursing around our son.”

Nancy finally walks up, still no sign of Steve as she joins your side and Lestat wraps his body slowly around your wrist, “Oh my God, don’t tell me you also refer to this thing as your child.” 

“This thing?” Eddie huffs, more offended than you, “Nance, he has a name.” 

Robin has gravitated towards you now, entirely captivated by the ball python, eyes shimmering as she lets out the smallest gasps and squeals under her breath, “What’s his name?” 

“Lestat,” you whisper, watching Nancy and Eddie grow closer and clearly get more immersed in their own private conversation, “But Eddie wanted to name him Frodo.” 

“Frodo,” Robin chuckles a little, looking at you questioningly as she holds out a timid finger. You give her a nod, moving a thicker part of the snake’s body to face her rather than the head, “Sounds like Eddie.” 

It did indeed. Once the bickering of whether or not you two would even get the snake to begin with had faded, the entire argument of what its name would be had started up. Eddie wanted the snake to be named after his favorite books – you wanted to name the snake after your most recent reads. 

You’d clearly won. At the sacrifice of promising the inevitable first of many cats you and Eddie would eventually have be named Frodo instead. But you’d still won. 

Robin’s eyes finally leave the snake long enough to take in your own outfit, and you hadn’t realized it was possible for the girl’s grin to widen, “Wait - are you dressed as Lady Gaga from her Paparazzi performance?” 

“Oh, my dear Birdie,” you coo out the endearment, shivering slightly as the cool body of the snake continues to slither up near your elbow, “This night is just getting started.”

—

You were right. The night had just begun. 

The first few hours pass fairly chaotically. A languid and rapid mixing of everyone excitedly catching up on each other’s lives, various drinks beginning to be concocted. Some delicious, and some spurring gags from others simply from the description of the hard liquor that had gone into them. 

Argyle had managed to lure many of the group out onto the patio at various intervals to partake in the devil’s lettuce, as he had proudly proclaimed it. Nancy and Jonathan had figured out a way to set up a makeshift karaoke party in the living room, lyrics for songs being displayed on the main TV. And Steve, for all his attentive hospitality as the one of the co-hosts of the night, had remained painfully oblivious. 

Eddie had gone behind his back when it came to bringing Lestat. Steve had made it clear when the two of you had purchased the puppy in reptile form that he wanted nothing to do with the python, while the rest of the group had been easily intrigued – especially Robin. And so once Eddie had decided upon his Britney outfit, the next logical step had been securing Lestat’s attendance at the party. He hadn’t texted Steve - or Nancy, as a matter of fact - but rather Robin. 

The girl hadn’t even taken a minute to respond, overly enthusiastic to meet the snake. 

Everyone had slowly become a part of a more silent bet as the night dragged on, and for once, you and Eddie were on the betting side of it all. The drinks were poured, the weed was smoked, the music was sung along to painfully off-key, and Steve never once noticed the snake that was frequently wrapped around various parts of yours and Eddie’s body. 

The quick exchanges probably didn’t help. When Steve needed your help in the kitchen at one point, you’d smoothly handed Lestat over to Eddie in passing. When Eddie had agreed to join Jonathan and Argyle on the balcony at one point, he’d easily and carefully draped the snake across the nape of your neck from behind the couch. Hell, you’d even spent a good five minutes engrossed in a conversation with Steve, all the while Lestat had been comfortably coiled around your bicep opposite the man. 

As the hours passed by, you found yourself wanting to be caught. 

Your phone pings suddenly as you bury yourself deeper into the leather couch, giggling over Steve’s current rendition of What’s New Scooby Doo?. 

You shuffle carefully to pull it from where you’d wedged it against your hip, trapped weakly by your white bottoms speckled with glittery blood.

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND: I want a cigarette :-( 

You do a double take of the contact name, blinking rapidly before you finally connect the dots. 

YOU: when the hell did you change your contact name in my phone?

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND:  Unimportant. 

WORLD’S HOTTEST BOYFRIEND:  Do you think if I hand Lestat off to you right now that Steve would notice? 

Your eyes flick up as the song ends, Robin having jumped up to finish off the performance with Steve, the two of them a mess of flailing limbs clinging to each other and joyful laughter bubbling out of them for unknown reasons. 

Well, partially unknown reasons. One of them was surely the strange concoction the two of them had chugged at some point in the night that had included both watermelon flavored vodka and green apple whiskey. That had been one you’d cringed and stuck your tongue out at. 

YOU: 50/50 chance. And NOT unimportant btw, what’s my name in YOUR phone? 

Just as Eddie exits the bathroom, Steve perks up at the sound of the door and distant flush, removing himself entirely from Robin’s embrace, “Fuckin’ finally! I have to piss.”

Everyone holds their breath as he rushes past Eddie, but he still remains completely unaware of the snake that Eddie is carrying. 

The slam of the door times perfectly with Eddie’s collapse onto the couch next to you, a shy and guilty grin already gracing his face before you even begin bursting at the seams with continuing the text conversation face-to-face. 

“Seriously,” you waste no time, turning to him quickly and your knee easily overlapping his thigh as you shuffle into a more comfortable position, “When did you change your name in my phone, asshole?” 

He takes his time answering, pulling on the ridiculously small jean shorts he wears as his shoulders quiver with the effort of holding in his laughter, “Words hurt, baby.” 

You hate the way nicknames as simple as baby can send still shivers down your spine. 

“You couldn’t have at least been a little more creative? Like, world’s hottest boyfriend? C’mon, you can be more clever than that, surely.” 

It’s easy to do this, to egg him on and prod at his ego in the softest of ways. It’s also always been a dead giveaway to him that he’s gotten under your skin. 

“My name with a pretty black heart next to it just wasn’t cutting it anymore,” he pouts exaggeratedly, leaning into your space a bit, holding the snake a careful distance away as he looks into your eyes and a suspiciously jubilant look crosses his face, “What would you have preferred?” 

“Something shorter,” you breathe out, feeling some of the alcohol coursing through your veins now, making your headswim as you suck in the scent of his cologne heavy in the space between you, “It’s a bit of a mouthful, if I’m being honest.” 

“It is,” he nods, and his lips spread salaciously, pupils growing just a tad bit wider before he delivers a devastating blow, “But we both know you can take it, can’t you, baby?”

Damn him. Fuck him. Send him all the way down to the depths of Hell, for all you care. 

He’s caught on to a clear game he can play now that you’re tipsy, one that he certainly has the upper hand in, and you can’t tell if the night ending in him winning it would actually spell your loss. You swear, you can already feel his hands on your hips, tearing off the costume you’d spent several weeks carefully sewing sequins into, his lips getting sticky with all the fake blood across your torso, his- 

Huh. Never had you realized yourself to be such a horny drunk. 

“Now I need a cigarette,” you grumble, leaning away from him, trying to break whatever spell he was casting. None of your friends’ have even noticed the interaction happening on the couch, saving you from eternal embarrassment. 

If you’d had less pinot noir and shots of Fireball whiskey in your veins, you’d probably still find the decency in you to be self-conscious at toying with these things in public. Maybe scold him, maybe douse out whatever flames he was attempting to ignite. 

Eddie leans back as well, clearly satisfied with himself as he lifts Lestat up to preoccupy himself by pretending to study the lightened coloring of the snake. Mostly white, with splatterings of a traditional morph at random across the body. The woman who had sold the snake to the two of you had referred to it as a piebald. If you had been shopping with an actual breeder rather than a reputable rescue, he would have cost an arm and a leg. 

Luck had been on your side the day you’d stumbled upon the snake. You wish luck was still on your side tonight. 

Eddie sticks out the tip of his tongue to mimic the snake a few times before he focuses on you again, “You know, we could always see if Robin wants to watch him while we both go grab one.”

You have no clue how the girl had heard him from across the living room, but she suddenly appears at his side, just as eager in appearance as her original text giving the blessing to bring Lestat had been. 

“Did someone say I could hold the snake?” she bounces a bit on the balls of her feet, looking down with utter fascination, “Please tell me you guys just said I could hold the little guy. When you first got him, I did a ton of research so I’d know proper handling tips, and also how to know if he gets too stressed. Also I may or may not have been nervous about how often they bite, but I found out that-”

“They don’t bite,” Eddie interrupts with reassurance, offering a small smile as he looks up to her, “At least, not very often. You usually have to aggravate them pretty badly, or catch them on a really shit day for them to strike.” 

It had been a huge selling point in convincing him. Ball pythons were docile in nature, and they’d be quicker to match up to their namesake by balling up than actually strike out at someone. 

Of course, the day you had been informing of this, you had no idea he was already aware of it. He knew they didn’t bite, he knew the specifics of what a habitat for them needed, he knew their dietary needs – he’d already had an Amazon shopping cart filled with supplies after the first time you brought the snake up to him, unbeknownst to you. 

“Yeah,” Robin nods ferociously, hands reaching out carefully, already more than prepared to take the snake, “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Now hand over the baby and go do whatever debauchery you two are clearly wanting to get up to.” 

“We aren’t getting up to debauchery!” you try to defend the two of you, watching Eddie carefully uncurl Lestat from his arm to pass him into Robin’s waiting hands, “Eddie just wants a cigarette and-”

“And you want to join him and probably get in some hot and steamy makeout sessions, right?” Robin finishes your sentence for you, quirking an eyebrow for a second before letting out a whisper of a squeal when Lestat takes to her quickly. His tail wraps around the length of her wrist and you’re shocked as you watch him stay just as curious as he had been while held by you and Eddie. A tad bit more reserved, but no sign of balling up any time soon. 

Eddie stands from the couch, patting his largest back pocket to ensure his pack of cigarettes and lighter are still safely tucked into it, and you know it’s useless to keep arguing with Robin. She’s entirely entrapped by the snake in her hands now, whispering in a high-pitched tone that surprisingly doesn’t seem to bother Lestat. All her coos nearly resemble baby-talk. It’s cute – sort of. A direct mirror of how you and Eddie have been acting at home when you handle the ball python. 

You stand slower than Eddie had, hawk eyes still glued to your friend, “Just- Just be careful, okay? Avoid touching his head, and don’t wave your hands around too much while talking, because it can scare him. He also might try and crawl up to your hair because Eddie lets him hide in his at home, and sometimes he’ll pull on it because it sticks to him, so just-”

“Sweetheart,” Eddie stresses, throwing an arm around your shoulders, giving your bicep opposite from him a quick squeeze, “She’ll be fine.” 

Robin nods, clearly only half listening to the debate as she watches Lestat wander up her arm in clear wonder. 

It sort of does feel like Lestat is your actual human child, as though you’re leaving your toddler with a babysitter for the first time. 

Eddie tugs you deeper into his side, musky cinnamon and boyish charm filling your nose as he leans down and murmurs, “C’mon.” 

A Ghost song starts to thump over the speakers as you allow Eddie to guide you over to the sliding door beside the kitchen, the layout different and even a tad bit nicer than your own apartment. It’s odd, the view of the kitchen being clearer than the living room, the exact opposite of how your home is. 

Home. Even in your tipsy state, even after so much time having living with Eddie and even going as far as to now own a pet with him, the notion fills you with warmth. 

Maybe you’re actually a sentimental drunk. 

As the two of you pass by Argyle, he briefly lifts his head, cherry-shaded eyes peering up excitedly until Eddie quickly shakes his head, making the poor man sink back against the loveseat that he occupies with Jonathan and Nancy. You almost feel bad, but it’s clear Argyle is too far gone to even feel disappointment right now. 

“After you, m’lady,” Eddie chivalrously slides the door open for you, half-bowing and putting on a half-assed British accent as he sweeps his arm for you to exit onto the balcony first. 

“It’s Lady Gaga to you,” you snark as you slip out into the crisp Autumn air, cheeks cooling instantly. 

“Oh,” the door slides shut with a soft thud behind Eddie as he joins you, face immediately covered by the shadows of the evening, “My apologies.” 

It’s nice out. Far nicer than any October has been in the city in what feels like years. The air is refreshing, dare you even say sobering, and the city lights below wink at you as you hear all the distant noises of life. Car horns, children’s laughter, music from other parties. It sounds as though one of the neighbors below is blasting heavy rap, and you swear you can hear the trill of a radio pop song from your left. 

Beer, cider, pumpkin spice – it all fills the air. It’s Halloween, and it’s nice. 

The breeze is electric with all the livelihood, sending goosebumps up your arms as you approach the railing, looking out across a night sky painted some sort of faded cross between navy and grey rather than a stark black of midnight. 

It all turns to static the moment Eddie wraps his arms around your waist from behind you, heavy pack of cigarettes in his palm as his lips find solace in one of the few bare patches of skin on your shoulder. 

“God, I love Halloween,” he murmurs against you, his breath hot as it catches across your costume. 

God, I love you.

You can’t help the cheesy thought as a hand comes up to grip Eddie’s forearm, giving three short squeezes, pulling him just a tad bit closer. But it’s true – Halloween was wonderful, you’d always enjoyed any excuse to get together with your friends and family, but it had never felt quite like this. 

Planning cliche dates during the season, movie marathons spent cuddling up with your other half rather than sitting across on a couch from friends. Kisses in the pumpkin patch. Cider on his lips. Putting up decorations and ending up chasing each other around the apartment, landing in a pile of limbs that slot against one another perfectly. Arguing about which decorations should go on the balcony, which garland to line your front door with. 

It wasn’t a replacement for spending time with your friends. And there were still crude jokes, still bickering over timing of plans and locations to visit. It still felt like spending the holiday with friends – it was spending it with your best friend. 

Eddie Munson. Your best friend. Your boyfriend. The sentiment is unexpected to past you, but so entirely welcome by the you currently enveloped in his embrace.

“I used to insist on spending Halloween alone, you know,” you mumble as his chin digs in the point where your shoulder connects to your neck, vision blurring as you continue to stare out at the tiny busy streets, “Just, like, lay around in my dorm. Watch shitty horror movies on my laptop until I got too scared and had to find some dumb comedy to help me sleep. It was the only day of the year where my roommate sort of acknowledged my existence. She was the one who’d go out, and she’d get all this candy and share it with me.” 

You don’t know the point of your rambling, but Eddie is listening intently anyways. 

You turn carefully in his arms, now mesmerized by how his face looks in the warm glow of the seasonal lights Robin and Steve had put up. Shades of orange flickering across his amber eyes, shadows making all his sharpness in his features more prominent. 

“Talking about it now sounds kind of boring,” you muse, laughing a bit dryly, “The most festive thing I would do was going to the Halloween store with Robin and Steve once they opened.”

“Yeah?” he asks softly, arms still tangled around you, grinning gently, “I don’t think that’s too boring.” 

“It was,” you insist, pressing just a little closer to him, “God, it was so boring. Not going to the store with those idiots – I mean, that was pretty fun. But it was nothing compared to setting up a snake habitat, or carving pumpkins with you. Now I can watch whatever slasher you want before bed, and I still sleep just fine, cause I’ve got you to protect me.” 

His smile matches your own – radiant, proud, happy. 

“Oh, definitely,” he nods once, twice. So sure, ego inflated for the bit, “Any scary men with a chainsaw dare to break into our apartment, and I’ve got you, sweetheart.” 

Our apartment. The perfect ring to it. 

“Didn’t you scream about that spider in our apartment yesterday? Like, full on squeal, hopping up onto the couch, begging me to save you-” 

He cuts off all your teasing, even though it was true, with a kiss. Simple, strong, sure. Fingers dancing under your chin to pull you up to him, meeting you halfway and not even hiding his smile at your antics as he effectively shuts you up. 

“We agreed to not talk about that,” he mumbles against your lips, tasting like the last shot of whiskey he took with Nancy. 

“You agreed to not talk about it,” you pester back, trying to pull away from his kiss. But his other hand comes up, trapping your face between both his palms, and it’s a useless effort, “I just promised to not immediately share the photo of you up on the couch with everyone.” 

Half the words are hardly articulate as his lips continue to nip at yours, struggling from your wide smile and the way your entire body is shaking from your giggles. You can feel the cold metal of the railing brushing your exposed lower back, a breeze picking up that can be blamed for the goosebumps racing down your spine rather than Eddie’s wandering hand. It’s not devourment, it’s not desperation, it’s not Earth-shattering. 

It’s something like mending. Something like a promise. 

Living together, celebrating the holidays together, owning a pet together – they were all baby steps leading to something even brighter in the future. An unspoken truth between the both of you. An inevitable crescendo to all that had been built. 

Eddie whines a bit when you pull away again, but this time, your forehead stays pressed to his. A joint effort between the way you tilt your head and the way his hands press you against him.

“Do you remember the last time we were on a balcony together?” you ask in a low whisper, trying to mimic the same suggestive tone that he’s always been able to put on at the drop of a hat.

You’re not quite as talented as him. You’re actually just a giggly drunk.

His brows furrow, “What? This morning?” 

“No.” 

“Two nights ago, when you insisted Lestat needed to see the moon?”

“No.” 

“Are you talking about the afternoon we had a redo of our pumpkin carving contest? Because I still won again, fair and square, ba-”

“I’m talking about the bet, you idiot.” 

His fingertips press a bit deeper into your flesh, his lips forming a wobbly ‘o’ as he stares down at you, “How was I supposed to know you were referring to that? That was definitely not the last time we were on a balcony together-”

You shut him up with the same courtesy as he had done to you, adding in a roll of your eyes before your hands wrap around his neck to pull him into you. This time, you make it hot and heavy. Lips and teeth and tongues, grabby hands from the both of you making their way across all the exposed skin and scraps of costumes you two wear. It takes Eddie aback at first, clearly not expecting the sudden passion, but he recovers quickly. 

He remembers exactly what you’re referring to quickly. 

Your back collides a bit harsher with the railing as he rolls his body up against yours, not a breath of space between the two of you as he wedges his knee between your thighs. You have no idea where his pack of cigarettes has vanished to, but you don’t care. All you really care about is the way he’s holding you, the way he’s suffocating you, the way he’s watering you. 

It’s hard to believe the garden within that he’s nurtured at your side for the last year was ever something broken. That there was once a time it was nothing more than dried vines and pathetic blossoms begging to see the light of day. Now, the warmth of a thousand suns was gifted to you every morning you awoke to his smile. Every joke, every small caring act, every kiss stolen just because one of you felt like it. You two may have accidentally killed that first plant you bought the week you moved in properly with him, but this? 

You can’t imagine a day where the two of you ever might let this die off. 

His lips break from yours, predictably painting a path along your jaw as he murmurs, “I think I do remember. But, just in case – wanna remind me?” 

And for a second, you almost do. 

All your coils are tight across your body, burning in your abdomen and shaking in your knees, but all it takes is the faintest movement of a shadow to remember all your friends inside the apartment still. 

“We can’t,” you whisper, as if they might hear you in the glass, trying to pry yourself away from him just as his teeth start to graze your neck, “Seriously - we can’t.” 

Eddie chuckles lowly against your neck, and you know exactly why. 

You’d started this without even considering the consequences. 

“Started something you can’t finish, didn’t ya, baby?” 

Oh, damn him. That stupid low and teasing tone. That dimple you can feel brush against your skin as he moves his mouth to the other side of your neck. All the heat in your body travels south, pooling between your hips, aching for him to go against your wishes to avoid embarrassment and just finish this. 

He doesn’t, though. You’re starting to believe he’s less drunk than you are, a clearer mind than your own with far more sensibility than he seems capable of most of the time. His lips leave your neck, his hands finding the polite placement of hovering over your hips. The fog is starting to clear, if only just the slightest bit, and-

You were wrong. So, so wrong. 

He’s not sensible. That wicked hand placement was nowhere near polite. In an instant, he’s latched onto you tightly and spun you around, quickly bending you over against the railing so your chest presses into the metal and the cold sends shockwaves across your entire body. Your ass is pressed to his crotch and one hand holds you securely, tight enough that he can be sure you won’t fall, as the other crawls up your back at impeccable speed to press you further down. 

Immediately, you’re squealing, “Eddie!” 

His laughter is just as loud as all your protests as you come face-to-face with the true height of a three-story balcony, knuckles paling from gripping onto the bars. 

You’d hate him for it, but you feel the security of his palm and knuckles around your waist, and you know he’s not letting you go anywhere over that railing. He’s hardly even allowing your head to hang over it. 

The moment you start to lean back up against his hand on your back, he’s allowing it immediately. There’s no friction or fight as you stand up straight once more, back against his chest and your hands already prepared to swing back to smack him before both of his arms come up around your shoulders and cross your chest. 

“You asshole,” you gasp out, flailing hands deciding to grip strongly onto his forearms as he cradles you up in the tight embrace from behind, still chucking in your ear as you both take several steps back. Your heart pounds, and you’re pretty sure your nails are biting into his skin. 

Maybe they’ll leave a mark – you hope they sort of hurt. 

“Just had to make sure you really do remember that night,” he jokes, trying to lean his head far enough over your shoulder to get a good look at your face, “I think the bars would have been a bit more exposing, though, yeah?” 

Your nails dig in deeper, and his grin widens. 

Bastard.

“What if I had fallen?” you snap, finding it hard to be mad at him. Those damned strong arms around you, the thump of his own heart right against the space between your shoulder blades, that fucking dimple. 

“I wouldn’t have let you.”

If the two of you had children some day, would they have his dimples? 

“We’re both drunk-”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“-And I’m pretty sure this balcony isn’t up to OSHA standards-”

“Oh, it definitely isn’t.” 

“-And you almost left our poor son motherless,” you finish off with a forced scowl, shaking off his embrace to face him properly, “Are you prepared for that? Were you prepared to be a single father?” 

God, you hate his fucking smile. God, you hope if you have real kids someday, they have that same shit-eating grin. 

With a pout of his lips, he steps back up to you, looking down tauntingly, “You’re right, baby. I didn’t even think about poor Lestat.”

You hum, standing your ground, but your defenses are quickly crumbling. Your mind is running with too many thoughts, exhausting itself over everything except the residing anger you should feel at your absolute nuisance of a boyfriend. 

The feeling of being held down by him in that position once more. How the heat of his body had warmed you, and you’d only noticed now that the cool air was attacking your exposed back. Swimming in the visions of what color eyes your children might have, pigtail curls of a little girl with Eddie’s defiance or a little boy who wears his shit-eating grin as he exhibits your same unbreakable curiosity. 

You definitely shouldn’t have drank so much tonight. It doesn’t matter what kind of drunk you are – it was a bad idea regardless.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” Eddie’s voice takes you out of your thoughts as he slides his arms around your waist, always needing to be touching you, clingy to a ridiculous degree. 

You weren’t complaining, though. How could you? If given the option, you’d make a home out of his bones in a fraction of a heartbeat as well. 

“Nothin’,” you lie through a sigh, head tilted dramatically, much preferring to focus on the ginger contours of Eddie’s cheeks than whatever future Jack Daniels had been painting in your mind. 

“Bullshit,” he doesn’t hesitate to call you out on it. And it’s not the alcohol fueling his boldness – it’s just how he is. He knows you better than the back of his hand, the roof of his mouth, his favorite songs on guitar. He knows you. “You got this dreamy look in your eyes, and you’re staring so hard over my shoulder, I’m almost scared I’ll turn around to see a ghost in the window-” 

Jack Daniels will be your arch nemesis after tonight, the culprit behind the way the words suddenly tumble out of your mouth, “Do you think we’ll have kids someday?” 

You wait for the air to leave the space between the two of you with the same urgency it’s left your lungs. You wait for a crack in the air, a chasm to suddenly appear. It’s heavy – God, it’s a heavy question to suddenly ask your boyfriend of one year at a Halloween party. You’re both drunk on your friends’ balcony, and you were having a perfectly sweet moment, and you’d just gone and ruined it. And to top it all off, Eddie was still just smiling, and- 

Wait. 

Eddie was smiling. 

The air was still there, filling his lungs with calm breaths. No sign of fear within his twinkling eyes. No chasm squeezing between the stitches holding you two together. 

He’s just smiling. 

“Is that really what you were thinking about?” he quietly asks.

You almost don’t want to answer. You almost want to force out cackles of fake laughter, to double over and face the ground rather than his humored expression. 

“Yeah.” 

Maybe he doesn’t believe you yet, maybe he has to double check before he breaks out into his own laughter. Maybe the alcohol in both your veins is just delaying the inevitable that you’d been originally expecting. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

Maybe not. 

Instead of laughter, instead of mocking you, he keeps a cheery expression as he shrugs softly, “I mean, maybe? I sort of hope so. And, don’t get me wrong, I know a kid is a pretty far leap from a snake, but I’d say we make a pretty good team at keeping living things…. Well, living, y’know? Besides, I solemnly swear I won’t try to name our kids after Tolkien. I’ll reserve those names for the pets.” 

All the air leaves your lungs again, but this time, it’s a little less painful, “What?” 

“Annie’s a cute name,” he continues on, completely unphased. It’s nearly impossible to remember that you were the one who had started such a serious conversation about the future, “I also like the name Parker. I remember you mentioned that one once, right? Something about being able to nickname the kid Pac-Man, I’m pretty sure. I think that’d be pretty sick.” 

And oh, was he right. You had mentioned the name Parker once. Just not to him. Not directly, at least.

The entire ridiculous make-believe scenario had come to you during a girls’ night, after one too many glasses of wine and Nancy bringing up the topic. You, her, and Robin had all spent a good hour coming up with names for children and the best nicknames to suit them. Some had been genuine, and some had been for nothing more than shits and giggles. 

Parker, and the nickname Pac-Man, had been serious for you. Parker Anthony. You hadn’t figured out a second middle name to complete the initial acronym of Pac that night, the rosé eventually getting to you, but you had been serious. 

“You were listening that night?” you breathe out, only feeling slightly betrayed, “What the Hell? I thought you said you were going to put your headphones on and listen to some Metallica to unwind after work.”

“I lied,” he cheeses, hot palms against your barren lower back, “I’m nosey. Sue me.” 

“You could have just joined us, Eddie.” 

“And miss the chance to hear you plot out the middle names of our future children?” Eddie snorts, “Not a chance, sweetheart.” 

He says it so casually, you wonder if it’s possible for a heart to burst from optimism. 

“So,” you pause, take a deep breath, feeling the embarrassment creep back up your throat, “Is that, uh…. Is that a yes? That you do think so?”

Why was it so hard to repeat yourself, to just say the words already spoken? 

Eddie had made it clear you had nothing to lose. You two were on the same page. He hadn’t scoffed in your face, he hadn’t even pulled away at the mere mention of the idea. Instead, he had leaned fully into it, head-first as he slid right into the imaginary future with you. He’d given a name to the little girl with his hair and his spunk, to the little boy with his dimples and his mischief. 

Was it still a little too soon, too fast? Was that where the hesitation was born from? 

It just all felt a bit too easy. After the rocky start you two had endured, this entire last year had just felt too simple. 

Of course, even if the hesitation was sitting there in the pit of your stomach alongside all of your anxieties, all of your waiting for the other shoe to drop, Eddie easily soothes it all over as he gives a slow nod and responds, “Yeah. I do – I really do.” 

And you clearly wear your heart on your sleeve, emotions painted across your eyes and cheeks for him to read clear as day, because he notices that catch in your breath.

“Not right now,” he rushes to add on, “I mean, listen, we’re still adjusting to Lestat. I think I’d like to be a cat dad too, before I even think about being a girl dad.” 

“You’re gonna be a girl dad?” you laugh out without thinking, starting to thaw into a conversation that Jack Daniels had begun but you know you can surely finish with Eddie at your side, “That’s… unexpected.” 

His face scrunches for the first time during the entire conversation, “What? You don’t think I’d be a good girl dad? I already deal with my rat’s nest of hair, so I know I’d be at least decent at braiding. And can you imagine getting to take a mini-you to shows, or buying her some cute unicorn helmet once she’s old enough to ride ol’ Nightfury? God, I think I might die from cuteness overload…”

Your cheeks are aching, ears ringing with his words. But all you can do is latch onto one little phrase: mini-you. 

Here you were, picturing duplicates of Eddie bounding around the two of you, and you hadn’t considered what he might be seeing. 

Not a child with his spunk. No, he’s seeing a little girl with your wit. A little boy with your stubbornness. Those eyes of his, nearly resembling heart-shapes at this point, weren’t wanting to see carbon copies of his whiskey irises. He wanted yours to be looking back up at him. 

Hearts clearly can’t burst from an overload of optimism, of happiness. Yours beats wildly as proof, still intact behind your ribs that bloom with rosebuds for the boy pressed to your front. 

“Mini-me?” you murmur, making him trail off, focused entirely on you so sincerely you could choke up. You shake your head, letting out a soft huff of air, smiling down at the ground, “No, I- I think you’ll be an amazing dad, Eddie. I just didn’t…. I just forgot…”

“That I’m with you all the way?” he finishes your sentence for you, one eyebrow arched as he gives a squeeze to one of your hips, “You could decide tomorrow you don’t even want to talk about having a kid ever again, that you’d rather get ten more snakes and live as some sort of cryptic couple somewhere in the Midwest the rest of our lives, and I’d be just as excited. I don’t really care where we end up, sweetheart – I just care that it’s with you,” You can no longer tell if it’s his words or the remnants of alcohol in your system that has you tearing up. All you know is that you are, and it’s ridiculous, but it’s fine, because all you see are dark brown eyes and entire realms of possibility in front of you, “Girl dad, snake dad, cat dad – whatever you need from me, I’m your guy.”

When the first tear falls, you're quick to shoot one hand up to your cheek in order to swipe it away as the other reaches out blindly to smack Eddie softly, “Shut up. Stop being cheesy. I’m too drunk for this.” 

“You’re right,” he nods ferociously, taking over the duty of wiping away your tears without so much as mentioning it, “Wanna make out again instead?” 

You let out a snort, and it eggs him on. 

“Or, hey,” his eyes light up, some of the seriousness of the moment fading naturally, “Maybe we ditch this party and start practicing. You know, in case we still want kids someday.” 

His pupils widen a bit, and you know surely that it’s only half a joke. You don’t miss the way his breathing picks up at the thought.

“Careful, big boy,” you tease, leaning into his feathery touch on your cheek, relishing the way the nickname draws him under your spell even when you aren’t saying it with an ounce of gravity, “It’d be awfully dangerous to get yourself worked up in such short shorts.” 

Saying it outloud almost makes you want to see it, genuinely. 

“Worked up?” he scoffs, backing up a little, caught off-guard, “Who says I’m getting worked up? I’m not getting worked up.” 

It doesn’t matter how many steps back he takes from you, you still follow, your palm still lands dead center on his chest as you roll your eyes, “Right. Because I’m totally meant to believe that the guy who used to jack off to Playboy magazines with girls who looked like me isn’t going to pop a boner at the thought of fucking a baby into me-”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Nearly more resembling a bite, his canines digging right into your bottom lip as he pulls you forward and collapses back against the glass door behind him. 

No words are spoken, no subtle interruptions for this kiss. Toying a dangerous line, dancing along a narrow cliff, and he’s the one who’s decided to drag the two of you off of it. 

You don’t mind. You’d follow him to the ends of the world if he asked you to. 

When one of his hands reaches up to your scalp, tugging at the roots of your hair for no other reason than he can, your mouth opens up into a silent laugh. An invitation, a jeer, a challenge. A quiet whisper of go ahead, do it. Consume me already. 

He’s already everything to you. He’s already a definition of home thinly veiled with skin and bones, a future with a heartbeat. 

His tongue down your throat doesn’t change the matter. Just reclaims it. 

A whine is lost in translation somewhere from the back of your throat and right into his cheeks. His right hand wraps around some of the skin of one of your thighs, encouraging it to lift up to his hip, and you can still feel the memory of his usual rings imprinting into your skin. A permanent tattoo, a ghost of a feeling that’ll haunt you for all time – you love it. You want to live there forever, right here in this haunted house, collecting memories and dust of all that he is. 

Haunted houses are only lonely when you’re left to wander these halls all by yourself, and you think he’d truly cross over into the actual afterlife rather than leave you like that. 

The kiss is almost enough to forget where you are and who’s waiting on you inside the apartment. It’s almost enough to have you recreating that fateful night from over a year ago, to let him bend you back over this balcony railing again, and this time, any squeals you let out won’t be of fear. You’d face that fall head on.

His hot hands on your waist, his tongue in your cheek, his knee once again pressed between your inner thighs. Him, him, him-

A sharp rap sounds on the sliding door behind Eddie, and you’ve never jumped apart faster. 

It’s Robin and Nancy at the door, Lestat happily wrapped around Robin’s forearm as she waves and points eagerly to him and Nancy simply crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow as though she might have been a disappointed mother rather than a friend at the moment. 

You done? Robin mouths, exaggerating her silent enunciation. 

As you nod, Eddie only deeply sighs, throwing his head back against the glass with a soft thump. Nancy is quick to throw out a palm against the glass and tap back at him, mimicking swatting him for his theatrics. 

Eddie pays no mind to Nancy’s retaliation, or maybe he just doesn’t see it, as he whines out, “I didn’t even get my cigarette.”

“Oh, cut it out, drama queen,” you snicker, trying to hide all your breathlessness as you fully pull away, “We’ve left our son alone long enough. You can chainsmoke to your heart’s desire once we get back home.” 

You’re already walking towards the door, Nancy and Robin having retreated further into the kitchen, when he catches your wrist to tug you back close to him. He leans down, deliberate and careful to make sure his lips catch against the lobe of your ear, whispering soft as night, “Can’t chainsmoke if I’m too busy fucking a baby into you, sweetheart.” 

It feels like someone’s poured literal fire across your body. As if flames have been dumped over the crown of your head, and are licking their pathway down your spine. 

“Eddie.” 

If you don’t get inside within the next ten seconds, you’re definitely going to make a decision you regret. 

He’s chuckling the entire time he steps around you, opening the door and waving for you to slip inside in front of him. Your entire body is still burning so violently, you barely register the way his fingers hang at his side and make a point to brush the back of your thigh when you pass him. 

Bastard, you want to snipe, but instead you just smile. 

—

The next morning, you’re awoken by the incessant pinging of your phone. 

You try to ignore it at first, burying your head deeper beneath the covers as a headache pulses at the edges of your mind, but after the fifth ping, it becomes impossible. 

“Who the fuck is texting us this early?” Eddie’s muffled voice complains into his pillow, facedown with one arm thrown across you securely. 

You can even feel him kick his bare legs in a show of defiance next to yours at the edge of the bed. If it wasn’t for the late night prior catching up to you, it’d be something sweet to laugh at. 

“What time is it?” you croak, scooching further up the bed, making Eddie’s arm around you only tighten. As if he can stop you from getting out of bed, or delay the inevitable by resisting you checking the phone, “Is it even early?” 

His free arm that had been tucked below his pillow flings out to the bedside table quickly, grabbing blindly for at least one of your phones. It doesn’t really matter if it’s yours or his; he’s got the password to both. 

“It’s eight in the fucking morning,” he curses, seeming more awake as he notices that he was right in it being early. “How in the fuck is anyone up right now? We didn’t leave until nearly three.”

His arm is finally loose enough for you to sit up properly, tugging the comforter with you to keep your bare chest covered, “Lemme see it.” 

“If it’s Harrington, can you post my bail for murder?” 

“You’re not killing Steve,” you nonchalantly reply as you snatch the phone right out of his hand. It had been yours, unsurprisingly. You don’t even know if Eddie remembered to put his own phone on the charger before the two of you had promptly passed out. You hardly even remember how you managed to do so, “But – yeah, it’s Steve.” 

“Fucking Harringt-”

“And Robin. And Jonathan.” 

“Have I mentioned I hate our friends?” 

The fog of sleep has officially lifted for you, and despite the wave of fatigue and aching joints you’d argue you’re far too young to be experiencing right now, you smile at your grumpy boyfriend. He exchanges his pillow for your stomach, shoving his entire cheek tightly to you as his arms wrap around you slowly. Clinging to you like a child, squinting against what little light pours in through the curtains. 

“You don’t hate them,” you murmur, holding the phone in one hand to get a better look at the phone as the other cards through his curls, “You hate mornings.” 

He hmphs in agreement, relaxing against your makeshift scalp massage. 

DINGUS: WHY THE FUCK IS THERE A PHOTO OF ME WITH A SNAKE IN THIS CHAT? 

BIRDIE: it is too early to be yelling

DINGUS: oh my bad

DINGUS: WHY THE FUCK DID YOU, ROBIN, SEND A PHOTO OF A SNAKE IN THIS FUCKING CHAT? WHO’S FUCKING SNAKE IS THAT?

You can’t help the gasp that leaves your mouth as you begin to see what the entire commotion was, and Eddie is lifting his head immediately.

“What?” he questions, moving to lift himself up and peer over the top of the phone, nosier than ever, “Why did you gasp? Is someone dead?” 

You scroll up, finding the photo being referred to.

“Not yet.” 

Steve, clearly partaking in another round of karaoke. Eyes glazed over, mid stumble based on the blur. 

“What do you mean not yet?” 

Most impressively, most notably, is the snake around his neck. 

Lestat, without a care in the world, his upper body being cradled by Steve’s palm as your drunk friend appears to be serenading the snake. 

You bite back your smile, eyebrows high as you glance down at Eddie, “You remember when we let Steve sing Taylor Swift while holding Lestat? About… two and a half drinks after he finally noticed we had him, and he didn’t flip out courtesy to all that Absolute vodka?” 

“Oh, fuck me.” 

Eddie flings himself back to the edge of the bed in search of his phone just as another notification pings. 

JOHNNY: I’ll do you one better. I have a video.

You don’t know if you’ve ever watched Eddie excitedly type on his phone faster than he does once he’s read that message, already giggling like a fool long before you can see what he’s sent in the chat. 

LOVER BOY: Johnny, my boy, you can’t just say that and NOT send it.

JOHNNY: Unlike you, I don’t have a death wish. 

DINGUS: WHO’S FUCKING SNAKE WAS IT? IS IT EDDIE’S? 

YOU: i will not stand for this erasure of me as lestat’s mother. 

Eddie snorts and looks up at you with glee as he reads your response, “He’s going to kill us, isn’t he?” 

“Can we be buried next to each other?” you respond with a question instead, looking at him lazily, “We could have matching headstones.” 

“Oh, hell yeah,” his grin is worth whatever Hell there may come to pay with Steve and the Lestat debacle last night, “Should we look up designs or-” 

He’s cut off by the trill ringing of his own phone, watching several messages roll into the groupchat in quick succession. 

DINGUS: who the fuck is lestat?

BIRDIE: the snake, dingus. 

NANCE: As someone who has seen the video… I think Jonathan should send it. 

DINGUS: DON’T YOU DARE

You’re a mess of hoarse giggles, hardly able to look at Eddie for the fear of both of you descending right into a madness of laughter. Like two children staying up too late at a sleepover, the room rings out with all your little noises, Eddie propping up his chin to watch you with the widest of smiles. 

Except you’re not children – you’re just two idiots, in your shared apartment, with your shared snake in the living room and your shared friends blowing up both your phones. 

Mornings have never felt quite as sweet as this kind. 

“We’re gonna hear an earful next time he sees us, aren’t we?” Eddie finally sighs wistfully, rolling over flat on his back, head propped up slightly in your lap. 

“Oh, definitely,” you nod, taking to twirling his frizzed curls around your knuckles this time rather than scratching mindlessly at his scalp, “But who cares? You saw how in love with the snake he was after a few drinks. He’ll come around, sober this time.”

Eddie doesn’t reply, eyes fluttering shut. 

You let the two of you sit in the quiet a bit longer, phones still buzzing with new messages, but the chaos can wait. For now, you just want to drink it in. Rays of vivid sunlight, the silence from the lack of the buzzing AC unit, the birds chirping annoyingly outside the window. You have one foot in relaxation, and one foot in the hangover you know you’ll have to battle once you choose to leave this bed. 

“You know what sounds good?” you question, nearly under your breath. You’re really thinking outloud more than anything, but Eddie still entertains you with a hum in his tired state, “Betty’s.” 

He’s the equivalent of a puppy dog who’s heard the word walk. One second, Eddie Munson is seemingly dead to the world, and the next, he’s perked up entirely. If it wasn’t for his nude state, he’d probably already be out the door with his keys in hand, dragging you right along with him. 

His eyes shimmer despite heavy lids as he asks, “Almond croissants?” 

A small nod, an ever present smile. You recall the conversation from the night before as you look into those deep russet eyes, and you see an entire future of late nights and almond croissants reflected back. 

“Almond croissants.”

[hollowdeath]

Thank god, another Harry Potter lover! 👓⚡️He really deserves more love! ❤️ That’s why I imagine him and the reader settling in a cottage by the sea or lake (you decide) to heal from the Wizarding War. They find comfort and solace in each other, and yes that includes countless lovemaking. 🥰 It’s just the two of them, so they’re free to express their love whenever and wherever they want. They especially enjoy making love on the shore under the stars after a swim, by the fireplace on a soft blanket, and in the bathtub surrounded by candles. They just need to feel and hold each other to remind themselves that everything’s okay now. You can do whatever you want with this, I just wanted to put it out there. Take care!

thank you so much for this request, i fell in love with it as soon as you sent it! i hope you enjoy!

pairing: harry james potter x fem!reader (18+)

summary: you & harry have moved away from everything & everyone to a remote cottage where the forest meets the sea. all harry wants after everything he's been through is to find peace, & he finds it in you.

c/w: smut!!! oral sex, penetration, rough sex

word count: 7.3k

harry was up early. he was watching the kettle boil on the gas stove in front of him, enjoying the warmth coming off of it, letting himself relax for just a moment. the steam from the water enveloped his face and felt nice. it was so chilly this morning. the windows were fogged over from the fire raving inside the stove, the wind whistling through the walls of the cottage.

the cottage was beautiful, harry couldn't deny it, though he could do with a bit more insulation. the raw, exposed stone walls were charming, and the moss and vines growing on the outside were something out of a fairy tale, but the fire needed to be fed every hour or so most of the day for at least half of the year or else it dropped below freezing inside. however, luckily, harry came to find wood chopping and trimming to be extremely therapeutic. just him, a sharp ax, and acres of woodlands to explore.

that was another thing harry could never deny about this property: the land was worth every penny. it's not often you find such a stunning cottage sitting on the border between a local forest and, what was essentially, a private beach on the north sea. the beach stretched at least a mile, but was obscured by the trees just behind the cottage. the land wasn't cheap, but harry was ready and extremely eager to spend whatever it took to finally get away from everything, live a simple life, and be alone.

alone with you, that is.

you and harry had gone to school together until the war, but eventually ended up reconnecting and began casually dating just over 2 years ago. since then you and harry had found complete solace in each other, both suffering from the negative side effects of witnessing and experiencing the war firsthand and supporting each other through difficult times. you were mostly struggling with paranoia and anxiety, and were actually the first to suggest getting a place together away from everyone else. you thought it would help if you were out of reach, isolated from the world, practically invisible from all danger.

harry, of course, was utterly haunted by the events of the war, and everything leading up to it. he gets angry at the world, has bouts of depression, deals with monumental grief and guilt, and has chronic, clinical sleep issues caused by nightmares. which is, ironically, the exact reason he's awake so early right now.

as he's pouring the boiling water out of the kettle and over a tea bag, harry can feel his eyelids fighting to stay open. he's barely slept this week, and he's starting to feel the effects of it. he's lightheaded, detached, and just wants to rest.

as he's walking to the front porch, mug in hand, harry takes a moment to pause in the doorway of your master bedroom and admire you. sleeping, surrounded by white cotton comforters, drowning in pillows, your hair wildly framing your peaceful face. he just stays there for a while, leaning against the doorframe, watching. he often watches you sleep when he can't himself. it brings him relief knowing you can get the rest you need.

before he heads outside harry slips on his favorite quarter zip. as he's sitting on the stairs outside, he admires the sound of the waves crashing just a few hundred or so yards away from him. he finishes his hot cup of tea, closes his eyes and lets himself sit in the cold waves of the wind. it's nice. like sleeping without the nightmares.

the moment is short lived as he hears the door creak open behind him. he looks back, and is in disbelief at how beautiful you look just waking up. a nightdress that barely covers anything at all draping around your shoulders, messy bed hair, sleepy eyes and a smile as you stand with the door cracked open, admiring harry in return.

"morning," you say simply, your voice still soft and hoarse from sleeping. harry smiles at you with soft and loving eyes. you walk towards him and let the door close behind you as you cuddle up next to harry on the stairs.

you don't seem to mind the chill in the air. your exposed skin is still hot from the fire burning inside. you lean your head on harry's shoulder, reaching for his mug, seeing there's nothing left, and leaving the mug in his hands. harry's chest hums as he chuckles. "would you like some? kettle's still warm," he asks.

you shake your head. you want to stay right here with harry in this moment.

the sea is so beautiful at this time of the morning. the sun was up, but only just barely above the horizon. no clouds, no birds, just the waves and the wind carrying their breeze.

speaking of breeze, you begin to shiver the longer you're out there in only a sleep dress. you still want to stay with harry, enjoying the view with him, but he notices you shaking.

"darling, let's get you inside,"

harry sits you in front of the stove and opens the small latch, letting the door stay open as you attempt to warm your hands. harry feeds the fire and rearranges the coals to make it burn hotter for you. after a minute or so, he also slips off his quarter zip and pulls it over your torso, smiling to himself at just how big it looks on you.

you find yourself finally starting to warm up, your toes burying themselves into the fur rug you're sitting on. after harry pours you a cup of tea, he joins you next to the fire. "thank you," you tell him with a smile, eagerly taking a sip of the warm drink.

harry's arm wraps around you and he watches the fire as you continue to sip your tea, enjoying the feeling of it warming you up from the inside.

you relish this moment with harry. since moving here barely a month ago, you've grown so fond of these smaller moments throughout the day with him. watching the scenery, watching the fire, sitting in comfortable silence, sharing a kettle of tea in the morning and afternoon, simply enjoying each other's company and the peace you've created for yourselves. it was one of your favorite parts about settling into this little slice of life.

and, of course, there was all the alone time.

while living with harry at grimmauld place was lovely, there was never truly a moment alone with him there. you had your own room with locked doors, but could hear someone walking, talking, cooking, always something in the background.

here, you were completely alone. a lot of people might find this situation to be even more terrifying, being so far away from everything, but you both agreed the isolation made you feel safer. safe from death eaters, safe from drama, safe from other people.

the safety from being so alone out here also meant that you and harry could be vulnerable with each other 24/7. you never had to put on a face or pretend things were okay if they weren't. if harry had nightmares, he could make some tea and enjoy a moment outside alone without anyone trying to psychoanalyze him. if you wanted to lay in bed until it was dark out again, harry wasn't going to judge you for it.

that vulnerability spread into other parts of your life as well.

you set your mug down next to the fire and turned towards harry who's already watching you as you admire his blue eyes, bloodshot from barely sleeping last night, or the night before. you take his face in your hands and just hold him for a moment, feeling him lean into your touch as his eyes flutter close. "i love you, harry," you say just above a whisper, breaking the comfortable silence.

harry looks up at you, but his eyes are now full of lust. you barely have a moment to process what's going on before harry leans in for a gentle, wanting kiss.

harry's always so soft with you despite his clearly strong desire. you've never been with someone who wanted you so bad no matter how many times you've been with them. everything with harry was like the first time all over again; the same desperation and desire to please that just never left.

the kiss quickly gets heated as harry pulls his quarter zip off of you, making you both giggle at the fact that he just put it on you only a few minutes prior. your lips reconnect in a haste, not wanting even a single second away from each other.

harry lays you down on the rug beneath you as his hands make their way to your exposed legs, feeling the heat from the fire on your thighs. his shirt quickly comes off as well from you tugging at it. a moan escapes your lips just watching his body as he pulls the shirt over his head.

harry's suffered from many injuries in these last few years that have left him littered in scars. and while you obviously hate to think about harry in pain, something about his scars drove you crazy with lust. a brave boy who faced death and came back, now healing far away from the cruel world with you as his lover. it was just another reminder that you were safe, that he was finally safe.

harry smiles as he goes in to kiss you again, his hands going right back to your thighs as he pushes your nightdress above your panties. you're holding his face lovingly but harry pulls away from the kiss to look at you. he watches your expression intently as he starts sliding his fingers over your panties, earning a sigh of relief from you. harry's eyes grow darker the longer he teases you. he sits up to use his other hand to hold down your bucking hips, causing you to whine in frustration.

"patience," harry commands from you in a stern voice. you look up at him, jaw lax, breathing uneven, and simply give him a nod.

you love this side of harry. of course you fell in love with the soft, gentle, careful parts of him first, but over time you saw more and more of his angry, controlling, dominant side during sex that you were completely weak for.

living at hogwarts and then grimmauld place right after, most of your intimate moments with harry were kept quiet to avoid being heard. soft whispering, quiet moans, slow movements, and breathless orgasms under a heavy blanket with the lights dimmed. once you moved here, away from everything and everyone, things were different.

of course, you were both still a bit quiet and shy at first, not used to having a place all to your own where no one can hear you for miles. but, slowly, you and harry learned to break old habits and started experimenting together. a lot.

it seemed like neither of you could ever get enough of each other since coming here. you'd always been really attracted to each other, maybe more than the average couple, but something about being alone together in this corner of the world where the forest meets the ocean made you feel so connected, so in tune, and completely and utterly obsessed with each other.

it started with long, drawn-out, foreplay-heavy love making in your new bed to "break it in", sometimes spending hours each day just entangled together on top of the sheets, admiring the other's body and exploring every part. then it would slowly move over to the bath, naturally, after spending so much time sweating together in bed. after a while the sessions would get shorter as you would both be completely exhausted afterwards. instead, they increased in frequency.

either you or harry would find little opportunities to sneak in a quick fuck throughout the day between chores, or would give the other person head as they made dinner in the kitchen. it was thrilling. neither of you had ever been sexual outside of the bedroom/bathroom before, but you found it completely erotic.

you had yet to have sex in front of the fire, oddly enough, but you had thought about it quite a few times before. the warmth of the stove, the soft rug beneath you, the light on harry's skin, the sweat dripping off of him…

"[y/n]," harry said, snapping you out of your daze. "are you even listening to me?" he asks with a smirk.

you blush immediately, so lost in your thoughts about the sex you were just about to have that you couldn't even focus on what was currently happening…

"s-sorry…" you mumble. "you just drive me crazy," you admit shyly.

harry's hand pushes further into your hips, a groan crawling out of his throat as he glares at you. "don't make me cum already, darling," he growls, his voice deep and rumbling in his chest.

you whimper under his pressure, your back arching as your body attempts to find some kind of release from the growing tension inside of you.

"so fucking desperate already," harry says, clearly enjoying watching you struggle under his control. "if i could resist you even a little bit i would sit here and watch you struggle all day," he tells you as he leans into your neck, his teeth sinking into your skin. you wince and squeal, your heart racing from the pain.

harry smirks at your reaction. he sits up and releases the pressure on your hips, causing them to buck upwards instinctively. a pathetic "please," is all you're able to muster as you attempt to catch your breath.

normally harry wants to hear you do a lot more begging than that, but he's just as desperate as you are at this point and he can't resist you much longer.

harry props your legs up for him after helping you take off your panties, throwing them to the side as he lays between your thighs. you prop yourself up on your elbows to look down at harry who's hungrily looking between your eyes and your pussy. your breathing is rapid and shallow as your heart continues to thump in your chest. even after all these years and all the times you've seen harry between your legs you just never get used to the sight. he still gives you butterflies like a nervous girl with a crush.

your head rolls in pleasure as harry starts kissing your thighs; even in both of your desperate states, even when he's at his most dominant, he's still the gentle, loving harry you're so in love with.

harry's hands find your own and intertwine your fingers together as his tongue begins exploring your pussy. you can feel yourself getting even more wet as harry's mouth attaches itself to you, enjoying how you taste. moaning, whining, hips bucking onto harry's tongue, you start to feel yourself sweat from both the fire and harry's intense gaze up at you.

"f-fuck," you cry, your thighs instinctively squeezing around harry's head. he can't help but moan as he sucks on your clit, practically letting you ride his face.

you reach for your silky nightdress and lift it above your chest, exposing your nipples to the warmth of the fire as you continue watching harry make your legs tremble.

harry's eyes droop in pleasure. one of his hands grabs for your tits and the other applies the same pressure to your hips as before. you let out your first real moan above a whimper, your hips still trying to grind against harry's mouth as he continues pushing you further into the rug.

his tongue's now inside of you, teasing you as you clench around him, your thighs still quivering.

"harry, harry, please," you say breathlessly, begging for more. harry ignores you, instead only going slower to drive you mad. you groan in frustration. he looks back up at you for only a second, but you can see the smirk in his eyes.

his hand lets go of your tits before making its way to your thighs, pushing them away from his head as harry takes a moment to breathe. you're blushing, completely flustered, eyes half-open. "sorry," you apologize.

"don't be. give me more." harry demands.

his hand pushes further into your pelvis, his elbow holding down your thigh as you wince at the pressure.

harry's mouth returns to your clit as his fingers feel how wet you are for him. your body jolts at the sensation, but harry just holds you down tighter. starting with one finger, harry pushes inside you slowly as you writhe under his grasp. your hands get tangled in his hair again, desperately pulling his face further into your pussy.

harry just chuckles, looking up at you as he slowly pushes another finger inside you. you gasp, your grip in his hair tightening as your other hand plays with your tits. just the look in harry's eyes watching you chase your high is enough to bring you close to the edge.

harry's fingers were pumping in and out of your pussy, his lips and tongue still teasing your clit. your thighs threatened to close again, but harry kept them spread open for himself. "enough," he states, planting his elbows into your thighs and his hand against your pelvis. he glares up at you as he repositions himself. "stay."

you can feel your body react to the aggression in his voice. this is the hungriest, and hottest, side of harry you've ever seen. you're already brought back to the brink of orgasm as soon as you can see harry's fingers pumping inside you again, his wrist and forearm veins pronounced against the light of the fire as he picks up his speed.

the moans coming out of your mouth are filthy and involuntary, your mind going blank at the sudden rush of pleasure through your body. once harry's tongue begins circling your clit again, you don't have a chance at lasting much longer.

"i-i, harry, stop, i'm–" is all you're able to get out before your legs begin shaking, your head thrown back, crying out in overwhelming pleasure. it feels so good not having to hold back your moans anymore.

harry's lips detach from you, swollen, covered in your wetness. his fingers continue thrusting into you, gently now as you ride out your high. he slowly removes them after a moment, his hand and elbows relieving the pressure that kept you pinned to the ground.

you're still whining, your legs aching from struggling against harry's weight. they feel impossibly heavy as you try to bend your knees up. harry just watches you, enjoying the aftermath of his work.

you're still seeing stars by the time harry's pants have come off, his cock barely peeking through the front of his boxers. he starts rubbing himself through the fabric, his breathing becoming labored as you watched him in a daze.

you look up at him innocently through your eyelashes, your mouth slightly ajar as you lean your weight to one elbow, using the other hand to take his place. he lets you take over, slowly stroking his erection through his boxers, enjoying his gaze down at you from above. his hand goes to your cheek, softly tracing the curve of your smile.

his fingers delicately open your lips before roughly shoving them into your mouth. you make a surprised noise, but quickly begin sucking and licking his fingers. he pulls his boxers down with the other hand, and uses your spit to lube himself up. you lick your own fingers and do the same, helping guide his cock into you with a groan of both pleasure and discomfort.

harry gradually thrusts into you, letting you adjust to him, taking his time with you. he watches your aching pussy welcome his cock eagerly, your legs already starting to tremble from the pressure building inside you again. "oh, fuck," harry's voice cracks, his hands gripping your thighs as they continue to involuntarily shake.

a hand flies to your mouth, barely able to contain yourself already. seeing harry's face of relief as his cock slides all the way inside you only makes you clench around him tighter. he lets out a struggled breath, his grip on your thighs only tightening as he spread them open for himself again.

harry's eyes are closed in bliss, his thrusts slow but deep, forcing a whine from your throat each time he's completely inside you. he's starting to sweat, his hair hanging loosely around his forehead, arms flexed to keep his grip on you, his body leaning down into yours as he starts picking up his pace.

harry looks down at you. one of his hands grabs the hand covering your mouth. "let me hear you, angel," he speaks gently but his voice is hungry, immediately earning a soft moan from your lips. he smiles, leaning down to kiss you sloppily.

harry takes this time to really pick up his speed, adjusting his position to roughly thrust himself into your throbbing pussy. his hands grab for the back of your knees, forcing your legs to bend back as he only pushes himself into you more.

"oh my god," you gasp into harry's kiss, your hands wrapping around his shoulders to steady yourself. harry's forehead rests against yours, looking down, glasses fogged up from the heavy breathing and heat from the fire. he's watching himself from your angle, slowing down his thrusting to a torturous pace. you both groan at the feeling and sight of harry pushing his cock completely inside you and slowly pulling back out before thrusting into you again.

"fuck, baby, you take my cock so well, feel so fucking good," harry says breathlessly into your ear.  your nails dig into his shoulders as you try not to cum again already just from harry's voice. you're both sweating, faces pressed together, the fire slightly dying beside you but still creating a warm glow.

"y-you're, mmph, i'm so close, again," you cry, letting yourself rest back on the soft rug. you feel so at peace despite the growing tension in your stomach – watching harry prop himself up with one hand on the ground beside you and the other still holding your leg back, his chest heaving as he continues thrusting inside you with a growing pace.

harry looks at your twisted expression, eyes glossed over and cheeks flushed, your tits bouncing as he roughly uses your body for his pleasure.

"yeah?" harry looks at you, his grip on your leg tightening as he fucks you roughy into the rug. "fucking cum for me," he commands from you.

you barely need his permission before you're already over the edge, legs uncontrollably shaking, eyes rolling back, incoherent words getting lost in your broken moans and cries of pain.

it's all harry needs before he feels himself release inside you, still thrusting into you slowly as his cum spills out of your pussy.

your body is shaking from the sensation, your legs still vibrating as you clench around harry's cock. he struggled to finally pull out of you.

still trying to catch his breath, harry lovingly rubs your thighs as he watches your swollen pussy ache for the feeling of his cock again.

"so fucking beautiful, my love," harry sighs, relaxing his body on top of yours, his head in your neck. "my beautiful, beautiful girl," he repeats, covering you in kisses as he showers you with compliments.

you just giggle at him, exhausted, trying to come back down to earth.

"i can't…move," you mumble between breaths, your eyes drooping closed as your feet touch back down on the rug. you feel even more weak than before.

harry hums, kissing your forehead. "it's okay, i've got you, darling," he says with a warm smile.

he stands up, slowly, but isn't in as much pain as he expected. his knees are sore for sure, but otherwise, he couldn't feel better.

he leans down to help you sit up, guiding your body into his arms as he picks you up bridal style, your head resting in his chest. you giggle again but you're too weak to reject the gesture. he carefully carries you to the bathroom just down the hall from the living room.

harry runs you both a warm bath as you watch from the counter. he's still naked, as are you, but it's not awkward or sexual – it's just natural.

he shuts the water off and reaches for you once again. "i'm okay now," you insist, standing from the counter and steadying yourself with his hands. he still helps you walk to the tub before helping you climb inside. the water's extremely hot, but it feels so nice on your sweaty, aching skin.

"i'll be right back, gotta feed the fire, just wait for me, yeah?" harry says before he dips out of the bathroom.

looking around you as you warm the rest of your body with the water, you notice the candles sitting around the tub from the last time you both took a bath together. just the flash of the memory through your brain is enough to make your stomach twist into knots again. harry had you bent over the side of the tub as water splashed everywhere, the feeling of freedom and carelessness intoxicating you both as you cared about nothing but each other's highs.

with a flick of your wet hand, you light all the candles again, and the room is lit with a warm glow. it's not often you use magic anymore, harry prefers to do things manually now that you're both caring for a piece of land, but the convenience of certain spells are too useful to forget completely.

walking back in, harry smirks at all the candles being lit. he admires you for a moment, naked, sweaty, half submerged in the huge clawfoot bathtub surrounded by the glow of the candles. "trying to insinuate something, love?" harry asks, closing the bathroom door behind him.

you blush, curling your knees into your chest. "just thought it'd be nice to have some light," you say softly.

harry grabs you both towels and sets them next to the tub before climbing in himself. he positions himself behind you, holding your body as he guides you to relax into his chest. once you laid your head back, you and harry sat in comfortable, warm silence for a long while.

it takes a few minutes before harry's hands begin rubbing at your stomach, slowly, making ripples throughout the water as you lower your knees, letting harry comfort you. he's humming softly, your head rumbling in his chest. he rests his head next to your own and watches his hands from your perspective.

his rubbing gets further and further down your stomach, running his hands along your waist and hips before finally grabbing at your inner thighs roughly. you let out a pathetic whimper, watching his hands from above the water.

"is it bad that i already need you again?" harry chuckles, half joking but half already turned on. you shake your head quickly, your hips thrusting up for relief, moaning at his words. "no, need you, please," you respond desperately, looking over at him.

harry's eyes are darker once more, watching as his hands gradually move to your sensitive pussy. you groan in response, but harry quickly kisses you to cover it. "i know, baby, just let me take care of it," he says into your lips.

slowly circling your clit with soft fingers, harry watches as your eyes droop more and more from the building pleasure. eventually his fingers are back inside of you, gently pumping in and out. his head turns back to your body as he watches you react to him. his other hand goes for your tits, grabbing one roughly from just above the surface of the water.

while it feels good being teased you're insanely desperate for harry once again. your hand reaches behind you, feeling harry's growing erection against your back. harry's grip on you tightens as your hand starts stroking his cock slowly under the water.

"fucking dirty girl," he groans under his breath, taking his fingers out of your pussy to continue rubbing your clit. you cry out at the loss of feeling, your hand squeezing around harry as he just enjoys the feeling.

soon, harry's moved your hips to align with his, your arms holding your body up on either side of the tub as you slowly insert harry back inside your pussy once again. the familiar feeling is only enhanced by being underwater, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease as you adjust to the feeling.

"oh my god," you sigh, your stomach already tightening, thighs still a bit shaky. harry's guiding your hips expertly, groaning in pleasure watching your ass dip in and out of the water onto his lap. his head is resting against the edge of the tub, mind blank, solely focused on your pleasure and his.

"fuck, harry," you whimper again, rolling your hips around on his cock before thrusting it inside you again. harry wishes you could see just how sexy you look from this angle, your hair flowing down your back, your skin glistening in the candlelight, the water droplets running down your hips, it's enough to make him resist the urge to finish already.

"you're so perfect," harry groans. he smacks your ass, slapping the water with it, causing you to squeal and quicken your pace. the same filthy moans are still spilling from your mouth, hardly able to contain yourself in this situation. something about using the time meant to help each other clean up to only continue fucking makes you feel so dirty, so used, and it's driving you crazy.

harry suddenly stops you, much to your disappointment, and tells you to trust him. "just get out and stand up," he says.

you do as he says, and eventually harry has you bent over the bathroom counter, barely lit by the candles behind you. he slowly returns his cock inside of you, your bodies dripping water everywhere.

as harry's thrusts become more consistent, one hand grabs for your shoulder and the other for your damp hair. he forces your face to look in the mirror, your eyes barely open from the pleasure. "watch," he commands. your eyes shot open at his voice, tracing the shape of your shadows in the mirror in front of your face.

harry loses himself in you, his head rolling back in pleasure hearing you struggle to take his cock for a second time. you're trying to moan, say anything at all, but your voice is incomprehensible as harry only becomes rougher with you.

"god damn it, [y/n]," harry spits out, his voice clearly exhausted. his hands travel back to your tits, pulling you back up into him as he continues pounding into you from behind. you're a mess in his hands as they roughly grope your tits.

"look at you," harry growls into your neck, looking into the mirror just in front of you as his gaze meets yours. "so fucking sexy,"

your hands desperately grip the edge of the counter for balance, your legs getting more and more weak by the second. harry pushes you further over the counter, his moans becoming urgent.

"i'm gonna fill you up because you're fucking mine, yeah? look at this perfect body of yours," harry's voice strains, his sweaty chest against your back as he forces you to continue watching yourself get pounded in the mirror, one arm over your chest and the other holding your hips. the light of the candles is just enough to let you see harry's dark expression. "fucking perfect, just for me,"

you haven't been able to get a single word out, your mind spinning as harry only gets more and more desperate, his pace getting sloppy.

"fuck, baby, just be good for me and let me cum inside your tight little pussy, hm? let me show you what's mine,"

you're already starting to cum just from harry's words. the overwhelming pleasure racks your body harshly as harry continues to use you for himself. shaking, barely able to stand without his help, your voice is breaking as you cry out in ecstasy for the third time just this morning.

harry's barely able to last much longer. his thrusts have slowed to uneven, jerky motion as he feels his cum spilling deep inside you. breathy moans and aching bodies, harry rests against you with your body limp against the counter. he lifts his head from your neck to kiss your skin softly, everywhere, slowly helping guide you back to the tub for a second time. your legs are weaker than before and you're barely able to contribute as harry leans you into the water, still kissing your damp skin.

"i love you, i love you," he's mumbling between kisses.

you're too weak and dizzy to respond in any way, still trying to catch your breath as harry begins cleaning your skin. he rubs a soft rag along your chest, neck, back, shoulders, and arms. the whole time he's complimenting you lovingly, a gentle touch and warm gaze upon your tired face.

after washing himself, harry also dries you off, carrying you back to bed before getting you both dressed in comfortable, warm pajamas. "just rest for today, my love," he told you as he laid you down. you reach for his hands. "stay?"

harry smiles. you didn't have to ask, it was literally his bed too, but he admires how soft and innocent you are in this moment. though he loves to be rough with you like he just was, there's nothing more special in the world to him than the gentleness between you two. his whole life has been nothing but challenges, setbacks, problems, and you're everything but. he just wants to be soft and gentle with you.

harry climbs under the sheets, his body also succumbing to the ache and exhaustion. he wraps himself around you, already falling asleep against his chest. harry joins not long after, finally getting his much needed sleep without the threat of his nightmares.

a few weeks later it's just a bit warmer out than it has been, so you and harry immediately started the day doing outdoor chores while you could. harry was chopping wood as you cleaned up around the cottage garden. it was too cold most of the year to grow much of anything out of it, but you still liked to keep it manageable for the smaller animals that stopped by to look around.

you also took the time to admire harry, shirtless, sweaty, groaning each time he drops the ax into another cut of firewood. his body had become well built from all the manual labor he's been doing lately, carrying entire trunks or stumps of trees out of the forest, lifting heavy bags of mulch and dirt for you, digging out the flower bed around the cottage, he was more muscular and toned than you'd ever seen him. it never mattered what harry's body looked like to you, you always found him attractive no matter what, but you couldn't deny that his toned back and broad shoulders got you more worked up than usual lately.

it was nice getting to work on the home with each other, a comfortable silence filling the day broken by the occasional question, favor, kiss, or compliment. it was peaceful, this routine you both had, and it felt so natural to work with each other. you hardly had to communicate your ideas because you were often thinking the same things.

tea in the morning, chores once the sun is out, taking a dip in the ocean at sunset, and having a warm home cooked dinner in the dark, the cottage lit from within from candles and the fireplace. it was perfect. for both of you.

and, of course, the sex had never slowed down as well.

you had both joked at the beginning of your move that you didn't think you could ever stop yourselves now that you were isolated from the world, but that's exactly what ended up happening. neither of your desires could be relieved no matter how many times you tried. not that you wanted them to go away by any means, it was just overwhelming, the feral need to spend hours each day pleasuring each other in every way possible. it was always passionate and desperate for more, never becoming repetitive or any less exciting. it was exactly what you both needed and wanted all the time.

as the sun was setting for the day, you and harry sat together and shared an orange you had gotten at the market just a few miles away earlier that week. you were lucky to be close enough to something that offered fresh produce, even in the colder parts of the year. harry watched the waves crashing against the sand, his knees to his chest as you both steady yourself on a large rock between the cottage and the water.

"thank you," harry says softly. you look over at him, his hands now empty as he's swallowing the last of his orange slices. you finish yours as well. "of course," you respond.

harry shakes his head. "no. really. thank you, [y/n], for everything." he says, still watching the sea. you blush, giving him a soft smile before turning to watch it as well. "i'm finally, really, truly happy. for the first time in my life, i feel at peace." harry explains, still speaking softly just over the crashing waves.

you could cry just from harry's words. all you've ever wanted was for him to feel safe. he's had such a difficult start in life and didn't deserve what happened to him, or what he was forced to do. he deserved simplicity. a normal life in a normal home doing normal chores. he deserved to be happy.

overcome with love, you stand from the rock and grab harry's hand, pulling him with you. he silently follows you down the beach. once you're a few yards away from the shore, you pull down the straps of the dress you had been working in off your shoulders, letting the material slide right off your body and onto the sand as you continue heading towards the water.

you turn to look at harry, and he's stunned at how beautiful you are. the shape of your body against the warm sunset over the water, nothing but a pair of panties covering your sweaty skin. your hair was flowing in the salty breeze of the ocean, hands reaching for his as your feet began to touch the water.

harry's ripped and dirty blue jeans come off as well as his glasses, leaving them behind on the sand as he grabs for your hand. you walk into the water together, slightly shivering from the lingering chill beneath the warm surface, but quickly adjusting to the temperature. harry's only admiring you, like he always does, as you dip your head under the water and come up, pushing the hair out of your face.

harry does the same, wiping his face of the sweat and dirt that's collected over the work day with the salty water. this has become one of his favorite parts of your routine together, cooling off in the ocean after a long day. not just to wash off the sweat and stress of the day, but also to admire you in all your glory under the shining sun.

harry wastes no time reaching for you, pulling you into him as you float in his grasp. he holds you for a moment, mesmerized by the light in your eyes, a smile permanently fixed on his face. "my beautiful girl," he reminds you, his forehead leaning against yours. you hum, reaching your hands to his neck as you pull him in for a heated kiss.

you've had sex in the ocean a few times now, and it's quickly become one of your favorites. it's the ultimate form of freedom being naked together making love in the gentle waves, harry holding you around his waist as he hugs your body into his.

most nights you're both too tired from working to go further than sloppy making out and feeling each other up; but other nights, like tonight, you're both too desperate to care if it hurts.

as harry continues kissing you he carries you back to the shore, your legs still around his waist as he lays you down onto the sand. the water just barely washes over harry's legs as it meets the shoreline. you relax into the warm sand beneath you, harry already pulling your panties off. you giggle at his eagerness. he smirks, his hands gripping your waist hungrily.

you can see harry's erection through his soaking wet boxers barely hanging off his hips. just as eagerly, you pull them down for him as he kicks them to the side.

harry easily slides his cock inside of you, letting out a struggled sigh of relief at the feeling. no matter what's going on around him, harry will always feel perfectly in place when he's inside of you.

your hands are tangled in his wet hair, gripping tighter as he bottoms out. he moans desperately, leaning in for another kiss. his pace evens out to a familiar rhythm, your body wrapping around him as he fucks you into the wet sand. the warm sunset is perfectly met with the chilly breeze of the water that's still waving over both of you gently. each time it gives you shivers, your body arching into harry's from the shocking feeling.

harry's not sure if he's ever wanted to finish this quickly before. it was so perfect, this moment, the sun, the waves, you. he just couldn't believe this was his life. making love to the most beautiful girl in the world where the land meets the sea. he never thought life could be this simple and beautiful, but with you it was effortless.

he pulled away from the kiss to simply look at you, eyes drooping, cheeks blushing, eyebrows pinched together in desperation. he smiled. "i love you," he says so simply, his thrusts beginning to stutter against you. you smile back, eyes still half open. "love you, harry, so much," you manage to say between heavy breaths.

you pull him back in for a kiss, and feel his body weaken on top of you, leaning on his elbows for support in the uneven sand. "baby, baby," he tries to warn you, but you just continue kissing him and wrap your legs back around his waist, pulling him deeper into your pussy.

he completely unravels, pumping his cum inside you as he cries against your lips. "fuck," he keeps groaning in a broken voice. you can feel yourself letting go as well, your thighs squeezing around harry's waist as the water crashes into your body again, making you shake even more.

you both enjoy the moments after your climaxes together, letting the water continue to run over you as the sun's light falls below the horizon. harry, still inside you, his body resting on top of yours, tells you he loves you in the softest, sleepiest voice he can manage.

you kiss his head, reminding him how much you love him.

you both eventually sit up, covered in sand, and chuckle to each other about it. harry invites you back into the water where he washes you off, giving you a loving kiss under the dim sky.

he continues holding you there in the gentle waves, the emerging stars lighting the sky above you. he's a bit cold now, but he couldn't be more warm inside. harry just loves you and the little life you've built with him here on the sea. he feels happy, loved, and completely at peace in the ocean with you in his arms.

[prettiedup]

can u do more tojiii 🧁

young & beautiful ୨ৎ

your parents are on a business trip, which gives you more freedom than a sheltered 20 year old should have. they left the country thinking their daughter would continue to drive around your suburban neighborhood, continue going to both your ballet and pilate classes, go to your college classes and stay there retaining all of the information you possibly can. it’s the basic things they expected of you.

little did they know you were far far from home. your expensive shoes plopped against the cracked concrete. in the distance, you could hear the sound of multiple police sirens ringing throughout. they seemed to grow close before disappearing and the crying sirens becomes quieter and quieter. your eyes take in the environment in front of you, the buildings that you could tell were once vibrant now lost their color. cracks and chunks of the bricks used to build them up were missing and large colorful vandalism littered spots on the buildings. corner stores with peeling paint and flickering neon signs offer a glimpse of the local people here struggling to survive.

it feels like a gray filter is casted on this side of town. and with winter being seconds away from approaching, everything is colder and dull. the sky grumbles, threatening—no, warning people of what’s to come. a group of guys are standing at a trash littered corner as you and toji past by them. you curiously look at their faces, they’re all already looking at you with a gleam in their eyes. you gasp to yourself and clutch toji’s hand tighter in fear.

“got ya’ a young one!” one of the guys call out to toji, “bet that pussy’s nice ‘nd tight!”

toji walks faster, his grip tightening on your hand. you struggle to keep up with his fast steps. his normal walking is your fast walking, you’re almost on the borderline of jogging. the fall air sores through your chest as you continue looking around the neighborhood curiously.

the two of you walk until you get to a worn down building. it’s littered with moss, vines, and graffiti. toji lets go of your hand to pick out a single key in his pocket.

“go inside. i’ll be back.” he tells you. you can’t stop yourself from frowning.

“i-what? no!” you say with widened eyes. as interesting as it is to be in a part of town that your parents demanded you never come over, things are still dangerous. the thought of going into a building you’ve never been inside and just waiting for him has your heart thumping in fear. anything could happen while he’s gone.

“‘m not askin’.” he could see you trying to form up some rebuttal, some way to argue with him and he can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes. “i’ll only be gone for about ten minutes. you can be a good girl and wait for ten minutes, right?”

you’re stiffly nodding your head while looking up at him. you try to convince yourself that ten minutes is not that long of a wait.

“i’ll knock six times and then say ‘gumi’. if someone knocks but doesn’t say the code word don’t open the door, understand?” he speaks carefully while looking into your eyes. he’s hoping all of his words are actually sticking and not just going through one ear and flowing out the other.

“fine..” you’re sighing and pouting, hoping that that’ll make him for bad for leaving you alone so soon.

he examines your face for a few seconds. he doesn’t say anything, the two of you quietly look into each other’s faces until a dog barks and interrupts you both. toji steps back, giving you more personal space.

you don’t know if you’re supposed to give him a kiss or hug goodbye. your relationship with him is still new and timid at times. your feet are moving before you realize it and your arms have a mind of their own as they wrap around his figure. to your surprise, toji accepts your hug, though it is awkward. he pats your head like some dog.

after a few prolonged seconds, he’s pulling you away from him. “alright, kid. go inside.”

and you listen. with shaky hands, you bring the key to the knob. to your dismay, it takes only a second to unlock the door. the door creaks as it slowly opens. you look back at toji one more time, he’s still waiting for you to go completely inside before walking away.

you let out a breath before stepping into his house. you make sure to lock the door behind you.

the inside of the house is sparsely furnished with basic necessities—a worn-out couch, a small dining table with mismatched chairs. there are warm tones of the walls try to add a comforting touch to the otherwise bleak space, but they can't hide the signs of neglect. the floorboards creak with every step, and the curtains are thin, barely filtering out the dim light from the outside light. you’re used to big elegant houses so to see something so small and compact has your eyebrows rising. as you tour throughout the entire house, every room is just about the same. bare with just hints of being lived in. you curiously open the refrigerator, you’re met with nothing. just a bottle of half drunken hennessy, and a sandwich. you’re in disbelief that someone actually lives like this.

luckily, the electricity worked. you turned the heat up before trailing into his bedroom. the room is a master, it has a queen sized bed in the middle of the floor and a single dresser with a tv sitting on top of it. you strip out of your clothing besides your bra and panties. you rummage through his drawers until you find a solid black shirt. you put it on, it fits you like an oversized dress. it stops right under your ass and the littlest movement would expose it off. you fold your discarded clothes, and place them on top of his dresser. you grab your phone and lay down on his bed.

his house is quiet. too quiet. there’s nothing to hear besides your thoughts. you can’t help but to wonder how he lives like this. so alone with nothing but his thoughts. you sigh out to yourself, it’s almost close to the ten minute mark.

you mindlessly scroll on your phone until you finally hear it. you rush out of his bed and make a straight line to the door.

knock, knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.

“gumi.”

you let out a breath and swing the door open. toji stands there with a. smug smirk on his face. as you look up at him, breathless, you notice a newfound small scar on his cheek.

“you don’t look happy t’see me, cutie.” toji practically pushes you to the side. you’re unsteady on your feet before catching your balance.

“no! i am! i’m very happy!” you exclaim. you watch as his fingers go to unzip his jacket, your eyes widen when you realize his knuckles are red and bruised.

his eyes follow what you’re looking at and when he realizes you’re reacting to his bruised knuckles he just chuckles. "i see you made yourself comfortable." he comments.

you bite down on your lip trying to hide your giddy smile. "it smells like you.”

toji only hums at your statement. he walks through his house and you follow behind him like a lost puppy. your uncertain steps travel closely behind his confident ones. he leads you to the bathroom, you don’t know if you should stop at the door or continue to waltz through.

“c’mon.” he ushers you.

he turns the shower on and lets it run for a little. he takes the time to take his clothes off, he smirks to himself when he sees your curious eyes linger on every inch of his body. once he’s bare, he walks over to you, pulling you closer to him. his hands wonder on your body before he’s tugging on your shirt, signaling that he wants it off. he helps you undress yourself, once you’re naked in front of him, he’s ogling at your body while letting out a pleased whistle.

“step in.” he tells you.

you follow his directions and step in the tub. now that you’re actually in it. the tub is quite condemned and with how big toji is you briefly wonder if the two of you are going to fit.

he hands you a white rag before stepping in behind you. you’re stiff, you’ve never showered with another person, ever. you’re used to showering in luxury bathrooms with the upmost space. you see that there’s only one bottle of body wash, which is also something you’re not used to. you use a plethora of skincare products that make you feel nice and clean, not some off-brand from the convenience store.

“since it seems like you don’t know how to wash yourself.” toji tuts before taking the rag out of your hands. he pours a nice amount of gel on the fabric before wetting it.

the feeling of his hands cascading around your body is .. weird. his movements are extremely gentle, he touches you like you’re some sort or sensitive rare artifact. you find yourself relaxing against his body as he cleans you. he starts from the neck and works his way down, even going so far as to clean the inside of your intimate areas with just water. you try to return the favor to him. he insists on washing himself but he does let you wash his back. once the two of you are cleaned, you stay under the slowly turning cold water until it’s fully freezing.

there’s only one towel out when you two step out. you look up at toji cautiously.

“forgot to grab the other.” he shrugs. he wraps the towel around your body and then opens the bathroom door.

you two make your way to his bedroom. you could hear the sound of rain pattering against the roof and occasional thunder blooming throughout the air. toji turns on a single lamp as a source of light.

the two of you dry off in your own towels. once you’re dry, you’re looking up at toji. the very few times you’ve been around him it feels like your brain stops working and you have to look at from guidance. you can’t tell if he gets annoyed by it or not, if he does he doesn’t say anything.

toji guides you to sit on the edge of the bed. before you could ask why, his lips are on yours. he kisses you greedily, he sucks up both your tongue and air. with you being not so experienced, you struggle to keep up with his experienced mechanisms. you can’t stop yourself from leaning back, and toji follows you. he makes sure not to drop his entire weight so that he wouldn’t crush you.

the two of you continue to sloppily make out for a while, the kiss morphing from just lips to tongue and spit swapping. you let out a soft moan as toji begins grinding his growing hard on against your clit.

he slowly pulls his lips away from your lips and moves his lipa down to your jaw and neck. he kisses you and occasionally licks spots here and there, he makes sure not to leave any spots on your neck. he’s grown now, if he was still in his early 20’s he would’ve left marks to let people know there’s already a claim on you. but he’s past that childish point in his life.

“y’wanna get fucked, baby? hm? ‘s that why you came alway over here?” he taunts you. his hips are moving faster and one incorrect slip up would have his cock slipping right inside your wet cunt.

“y-yes. please.” breathy gasps are escaping past your lips. the friction he’s creating is so delicious and addictive.

“g’na give it to you, baby. g’na fuck this pussy. g’na mold it to fit only my cock.” he’s letting out a drawn out groan as he slides his cock into you. you’re both moaning out to each other. the second all of his cock is fit into you, he’s immediately pulling his cock out only to slam it back inside of you.

he straightens his back, putting some distance between the two of you. he grabs your legs and places them on his shoulders. he watches as your boobs bounce with every rough thrust. his eyes trails along your body, the sight of you frantically clutching the bedsheets while still carrying this angelic look has him growing even harder.

“fuck.” you whimper out. his cock is so thick and it fills you up so well. “feel’s s-so good, tojiii.” you moan.

“mhmm. g’na let me fill this pussy up, ‘mma put a baby in you.” his breathing becoming heavier and you can’t help but gush out some more wetness at his claims of breeding.

“fuck a baby ‘nto me, toii, pleaseee.” you moan out.

toji grins at your words. if a baby is what you want, that’s what he’ll give to you.

[imjustreadinglmao]

BLUE PART II

Paring: Azriel x reader, Lucien x platonic!reader

Series summary: After Azriel and Elain‘s courtship is revealed, their mates, Lucien and Y/N, are left to deal with the consequences. While fighting against Koschei and for Prythian‘s freedom, Y/N has to navigate her emotions and learn how to live with the heartbreak of a one sided mating bond. But what happens when secrets are revealed and everything turns out differently than they thought?

Warnings: unrequited love, death, detailed descriptions of fights and blood, angst, characters being idiots

A/N: my last azrielxreader post won’t appear in the tags so reblogs are very much appreciated.

Word count: 3.3k

It’s a beautiful, crisp spring morning. The sun is shining, birds are singing, and the wind carries the lovely scent of freshly baked pies. I sigh at the prospect of leaving this peaceful place and trading it for the Autumn Court.

As I push the heavy oak doors of the River House open, I can feel anxiety coursing through my veins. After fleeing Autumn seventy-three years ago, I didn’t expect to return there so soon, even if only temporarily. It was difficult for me to leave. I couldn’t risk telling anyone about my plans, so I never had the chance to say goodbye.

Knowing my father, he had probably been more concerned about how me leaving would affect his standing with the High Lord and the other noble families. But my mother and sister… I would give a lot to see them again.

All those years, I have missed the familiarity of my home court, the traditions, and the celebrations I cherished so much as a child.

I take a deep breath, trying to steady myself as I step into the foyer. Rhysand, Amren, Azriel, and Lucien are already there, waiting for me.

Except for Lucien and me, who are wearing traditional Autumn Court attire, everyone else is dressed in midnight black.

Lucien looks up as I enter, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “You look… convincing,” he says.

I let out a breathy laugh at that. The last time he saw me in Autumn colors was at a ball my family hosted, which ended with me puking my guts out, most of it landing on Lucien’s shoes.

Judging by the face he is making, he hasn’t forgotten either.

Azriel, standing beside him, nods in agreement. “It suits you,” he says quietly, his gaze lingering on me for a moment longer than necessary.

His shadows peek over his shoulder as if they want to take a look too.

I try to ignore the flutter of emotions his words stir within me. Instead, I focus on the mission ahead, on the role I must play. The safety of Prythian depends on our success, and I can’t afford to let myself get distracted.

Rhysand steps forward, a mischievous smile on his face. “I have to say, you both pull off Autumn Court fashion far better than I expected. Maybe we should visit the Autumn Court more often.”

Amren, her eyes assessing our disguises, retorts, “If you spent as much time on strategy as you do on fashion critiques, we’d have won the war by now.”

I have to cover my mouth to not laugh out loud and accidentally anger the century-old creature that’s lurking beneath that Fae body.

Rhys just rolls his eyes, clearly undeterred by her sharp tone. “I’ll have you know that looking good is part of the strategy.”

With one last look at me, he stretches out his hand and asks, “Ready?”

I nod, take his hand, and let him winnow me away.

———————————————————

Arriving at the southern border of the Autumn Court, I am immediately struck by the beauty of the landscape. The trees here are taller than I remember, their leaves a riot of red, orange, and gold, perpetually caught in the peak of autumn. The air carries the earthy scent of fallen leaves and the smoke of distant fires burning in hearths.

As we step onto the moss-covered ground, bittersweet memories flood my mind. I find myself thinking of the simpler days of my youth, the carefree ones.

I feel dark talons gently scraping at the shields in my mind and lwt Rhys in. So lost in the beautiful nature, I barely realize him wishing us good luck and winnowing back to Velaris.

Right after Rhys leaves, Azriel begins to scout the area for any magical traps or shields set by Koschei, leaving us to wait for his return. As the minutes stretch into an hour, my anxiety starts to build.

I pace restlessly, my mind conjuring all sorts of terrible scenarios.

Lucien tries to reassure me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“He’ll be fine,” Lucien says softly. “Azriel knows what he’s doing.”

But his words do little to calm me.

“How can you be so sure? He could be injured… or worse. We don’t know what Koschei is capable of!” I snap.

I begin to ramble, listing every possible way Azriel could have gotten hurt. “What if he’s caught in a trap? What if there’s a magical barrier he can’t break?”

Just thinking about him being in trouble makes me want to vomit. “That’s it. He’s taken long enough. I’m going to find him and—”

Amren steps in, her voice cutting through my panic. “Enough. Get your shit together. We don’t have time for this.”

Her bluntness shocks me into silence, and I sulk, feeling chastised.

But Amren isn’t finished. “Oh, quit acting like a child. Maybe if you told him about your feelings and the mating bond, you wouldn’t be so anxious, girl.”

My mouth drops open and I look to Lucien, his face also morphed into shock. When I look back to Amren, she just lifts an eyebrow.

“How do you know about the bond?”

Amren lets out a long sigh. “Only someone stupid wouldn’t have picked up on that. And Azriel being the stupidest of all.”

She rolls her eyes and starts picking at her nails. “We all suspected it. For a while we thought it snapped for Azriel too. The way he followed you around like a love sick fool, we were sure of it. But I guess it didn’t.”

I don’t say anything else after that, my mind not coming up with a response.

——————————————————

Another hour passes, and my worry only deepens. I can’t stop imagining Azriel injured or trapped, his shadows unable to find a way back to us. Every rustle of the leaves makes me jump, hoping it’s him returning.

Lucien tries to keep me distracted, but my thoughts are a whirl of dread. He tells me stories of his own missions, but I can’t focus on his words. My mind is entirely on Azriel.

Finally, just as the sun reaches its peak, Azriel returns. He looks slightly worse for wear, his clothes torn in some places and his face smeared with dirt, but otherwise unharmed. He notices the tension immediately, his eyes narrowing in concern.

“What happened?” Azriel asks, looking between us.

I step toward him, my relief overwhelming. “Are you okay? What took you so long?”

Azriel nods, his expression serious. “There were more traps than I anticipated. It took a while to disable them all, but the path should be clear now.”

Amren crosses her arms. “Good. We don’t have time for any more delays.”

Lucien places a hand on my shoulder again, this time with a reassuring squeeze. “See? I told you he’d be fine.”

I manage a weak smile, still shaken by the fear that gripped me. Azriel’s eyes soften as he looks at me.

“We should move quickly,” Azriel says, breaking the moment. “It won’t be long till they notice that their shields and traps were destroyed. Amren and I will accompany you to the Forrest House, then we’ll separate and follow the original plan. It’s too dangerous otherwise. We can’t risk you.”

Lucien nods and gestures for me to go first. “Let’s get moving then. The sooner we’re done here, the better.”

We begin to move deeper into the forest, leading to Beron’s residence. The beauty of the surroundings contrasts sharply with the danger I know lurks nearby.

As we walk, I steal glances at Azriel, wondering how he can be so calm and collected all the time.

Gods, I nearly lost my mind over him doing his job. I am a hypocrite for snapping at him the other day. Yes, I am mad at him for courting Elain, but I also can’t expect him to be loyal to me when he doesn’t even know that we’re mates.

How different things would be if it had just snapped for him the second it did for me...

It happened three years ago. Unbeknownst to us, we were just celebrating the last winter solstice without Rhys when it snapped into place.

One moment I was admiring him from afar, the next I was connected to him for the rest of my immortal life.

He had still been in love with Mor back then, so I chose not to say anything. A huge mistake, because soon after, Elain came into the picture.

Truthfully, I never thought they were anything more than friends until I overheard Rhysand ordering Azriel to stay away from her. It wasn’t until then that I realized I had lost him forever. He wasn’t going to stay away from her, so I accepted my fate and kept silent.

———————————————————

After five hours of hiking through bushes, stepping in rabbit holes, and nearly getting killed by a boar, I can feel the exhaustion creeping into my bones.

“Can we please take a break? My legs are going to fall off,” I ask.

Amren smirks, not breaking her stride. “And here I thought you were tougher than this.”

Only Rhysand’s plea to behave and work together holds me back from strangling her. Gods, she really is a cranky hag.

Lucien chuckles softly and turns to me. “We’re only a few minutes away. Hang in there.”

I groan but press on. As we finally crest a hill, the sight of Beron’s castle comes into view, exactly as I remembered it. The imposing structure looms against the deep orange sky, its dark stone walls lined with creeping ivy. Tall, narrow windows glint in the dawning light.

“It’s just like I remember,” I whisper, a mixture of awe and dread washing over me.

Lucien glances at me, his expression unreadable. “Let’s get ready. We need to find a way to get in there.” He points to the entrance of the castle, where nobles are lined up to enter the masquerade ball hosted by the High Lord himself.

We slip through the dense forest that surrounds the castle, our movements silent and precise. Azriel scouts ahead, his shadows cloaking him in near invisibility. After what feels like an eternity, we find a secluded spot to prepare for our infiltration.

“Here,” Amren hands both Lucien and me a stack of clothes. “These are your disguises. You will pose as Lord and Lady Hawthorn. The late Lord Hawthorn died three months ago. You are recently married with no offspring or heir yet. This is your first outing as Lord and Lady. Some might recognize your name, though they should not look twice your way. Be discreet and don’t draw attention.”

“What about the real Lord and Lady Hawthorn? What if they decide to turn up and out us as imposters?” I ask.

Azriel shifts on his feet and answers a bit sheepishly, “Don’t worry, they have already been dealt with.”

My brows furrow in confusion. “What do you—” realization dawns over me. “Oh… oh, okay. I guess that makes this a lot easier.”

I grab the clothes Amren gave me and head for the nearest bush to change. When I look back, Azriel has his head tilted sideways and smiles at me.

The dress I change into is a deep burgundy, adorned with delicate golden embroidery.

The fabric is soft and luxurious and fits me like a second skin. The mask is made of similar fabric, with intricate golden lace around the edge of it.

As I step out from behind the bush, my eyes find Azriel’s immediately.

His eyes, usually so guarded, widen slightly as they take in my appearance, his gaze lingering on the details of my dress and the way it clings to my form.

“You look… stunning,” he murmurs, his voice low and sincere.

I feel a blush rise to my cheeks and look away, focusing on Lucien. Lucien is similarly attired, his outfit complementing mine with its dark tones and subtle elegance.

He grins at me. “Shall we, Lady Hawthorn?”

I bark out a laugh. “We shall, Lord Hawthorn.”

———————————————————

Getting inside the Forrest House was easier than expected. We just walked right up to the entrance, stated our names, handed them our fake invites, and were ushered in.

As we step into the grand ballroom, the sheer opulence of the scene takes my breath away.

Crystal chandeliers hang from the high ceilings, casting a warm glow over the sea of elegantly dressed nobles. Musicians play softly in one corner, their melodies mingling with the murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses.

At the far end of the room, atop a raised dais, sits Beron, his cold gaze sweeping over the crowd. To his right stands Eris. Our eyes meet briefly, and I give a subtle nod, which he returns.

Lucien and I mingle with the guests, keeping our eyes and ears open, waiting for Eris to give us our signal.

As Beron rises from his throne, a hush falls over the grand ballroom. The guests turn their attention to him. He begins to address the crowd, his voice echoing through the vast space.

“Welcome, esteemed guests, to this celebration of our enduring legacy and power,” Beron proclaims, his tone laced with self-satisfaction.

Just as he is about to continue, the heavy doors of the ballroom burst open. A squadron of Eris’s soldiers rushes in, their armor clanking loudly. The crowd parts like a tide, murmurs of confusion and fear rippling through the room.

Beron’s confident façade falters, replaced by one of anger and panic. “What is the meaning of this?” he demands, his voice rising in pitch as he glares at the soldiers.

Eris steps forward, his demeanor calm and resolute. “Father,” he begins, his voice carrying a chilling edge, “it is time. Your reign has been marked by tyranny and cruelty, and I will no longer stand by and watch my people suffer under your rule.”

Beron’s eyes narrow, a sneer curling his lips. “You think you can overthrow me, Eris? It takes more than a few soldiers to claim this throne.”

Eris begins to smile. “Oh, I know. A noble to swear me in and an heir to secure the lineage, right? Well, here they are.” He gestures to Lucien and me.

My eyes widen as I whisper-shout in Lucien’s ear, “He cannot be serious? THIS is his plan?!”

Lucien replies, equally as quiet. “I have learned a long time ago not to question my brother’s way of handling things.”

“You are truly deluded, Eris.” Beron laughs, a harsh, mocking sound. “They won’t accept a random noble as your heir.”

Eris stands his ground, his gaze unwavering. “But they will. Take off your masks,” he says to Lucien and me.

And so we do. Nobles everywhere are gawking at us. Some eyes fixed on me, most on Lucien.

Beron steps down from the dais. “What a surprise. The lost son finally returns home.” He turns his gaze to me. “And you, you’re Lord Yarrow’s daughter, no?”

I don’t answer. Even if I wanted to, I don’t think I could. I’m rooted in place, not taking my eyes off Beron.

Beron turns to Eris again. “Well, it seems you really are full of surprises. But you’re forgetting one important thing. You would have to kilI me to claim the throne. And you’ve always been weak, Eris. You’re not strong enough, but you shall try.”

In that moment, I realize what Eris was doing. He was provoking his father into accepting his challenge, and Beron just did exactly that.

“I’ve had a long time to prepare.”

And with that, all hell breaks loose.

———————————————————

Chaos erupts as Beron and Eris clash, their swords flashing in the bright light of the ballroom. Beron's strikes are powerful, but Eris is swift and precise, his fire magic flaring up with every swing.

Lucien and I are quickly surrounded by Beron's soldiers. The nobles' screams fill the air as they flee the room in terror. I manage to grab a blade as the first soldier aims right for my neck.

My heart races as I parry another soldier's blow, my muscles straining with each clash of steel. Lucien fights beside me, his own fire magic scorching the air around us, incinerating our enemies with fiery blasts.

The ballroom is a whirlwind of chaos.

As we cut through the soldiers, our eyes are locked on the fight between Eris and Beron. We try to reach them, but more and more of Beron’s soldiers are streaming in.

Eris and his father fight with brutal intensity, their swords ringing out as they meet. Eris dodges and strikes with a precision that keeps Beron on his toes, but his experience gives him the upper hand, forcing Eris back step by step.

Just as Lucien and I are within seconds of reaching Eris and Beron, the ballroom doors burst open again. Five of Koschei's soldiers, dark magic radiating from them, storm in. They immediately begin slaughtering nobles, women, and children alike. Their dark magic tears through Eris's soldiers as if they were paper.

Lucien and I have no choice but to turn away from Eris and Beron and face Koschei’s magic wielders.

I take several hits to the gut, and a sword slices across my cheek, but I fight on, managing to take down one of the dark soldiers. Lucien, with his fire magic, kills two more, but before the third soldier is turned into ash, he drives a sword straight through Lucien’s chest.

Lucien collapses to his knees, blood pouring from the wound. I rush to his side, my heart pounding in my chest. Lucien's eyes flutter, and he tries to speak, but I stop him. "Save your energy," I beg.

He begins to close his eyes, the loss of blood making him weaker and weaker. "Lucien, stay with me!" I cry, trying to stem the flow of blood with my hands.

I have to get him to a healer fast; otherwise, he will bleed out. So I do the only thing I can think of.

Desperate, I tug on the bond with Azriel, praying that he will sense my distress.

A moment later, Azriel bursts into the room, Amren in tow. Azriel’s eyes widen with panic as he spots me and Lucien. He rushes to us, dropping to his knees beside Lucien.

"Azriel, you have to winnow him back to Velaris," I plead. "Find Madja , now!"

Azriel looks torn. "I can't leave you," he says, his voice tight with fear. “I— not like this. Not with you being my—”

"Amren is here, I’ll be fine," I insist, glancing at Amren, who is finishing off the last two of Koschei’s soldiers. "Please, Azriel! I can’t watch him die. I am begging you, just go, please!"

Azriel nods reluctantly, wrapping his arms around Lucien. With a final, desperate look at me, he winnows away, leaving me behind in the chaos.

With Azriel and Lucien gone, I feel a pang of anxiety, but I have no time to dwell on it. I turn back to the fight, watching as Eris and the High Lord continue their deadly duel.

Around me, the battle rages on. I join Amren, who is ruthlessly dispatching the remaining dark soldiers with a ferocity that belies her small stature.

Together, we fight our way through the chaos, our movements synchronized from years of fighting side by side.

We are fighting for what feels like hours. My arms ache from dealing blow after blow, and my eyes are getting blurry from the lack of sleep.

I steal a glance at Eris and Beron, watching as they exchange hits. Eris manages to land a few blows, but Beron shrugs them off.

The two of them are evenly matched, but the High Lord’s power coursing through Beron's veins gives him a slight edge.

Suddenly, Beron lunges forward, his sword aimed at Eris's heart. Eris barely manages to block the strike, their blades locking together. Fire erupts between them, and for a moment, it looks like Eris might be overpowered.

But Eris digs deep, summoning a burst of strength. He pushes Beron back, their swords disengaging with a loud clang. Eris's flames burn brighter, and he steps forward, pressing the attack.

The next moment, everything is quiet. No swords clashing, no screaming, just utter quiet.

As the flames subside, there, in the middle of the ballroom, not moving, is Beron.

The High Lord of the Autumn Court is dead.

[yuvany]

CORPSE BRIDE ft PARK SUNGHOON

SYNOPSIS : Sunghoon finds himself in a sticky situation, yearning to return to where he came from; the land of the living and be married to the one he feels his heart beating for..

CONTENT WARNINGS : unrequited love + angst + weapons + none of these character pairing (wony and hoon) are relavant to shipping, but just a choice of characters + blood + skeletons + graveyards + kidnapping + slight body horror description + fights

ACTORS : ENHYPEN SUNGHOON x corpse bride!FEMALE READER — side characters ; wonyoung as Victoria, Gaeul as Scraps

WORD COUNT : 4379

SUNGHOON DIDN'T MEAN TO RUN AWAY, and nor did he mean to meet you. He was simply just too nervous for the wedding his parents had set him up for. Sunghoon messed up his vows and set someone's attire on fire, but most embarrasing of all, he left his soon-to-be-bride alone and went into the woods to collect his mind and go over what he seemed to have rehearsed once too many times, but still gotten it wrong. It wasn't that Wonyoung, the girl he'd marry, was any wrong, if anything she was all everyone would want.

The dark woods where he found himself walking into was filled with tree branches sticking and poking out abnormally, and moss seeming to cover each and every stone he walked by. Slowly, he began to mutter the vows, "With this hand, I will...I will..." He gives it a second go. "With this hand I empty your cup. No that's not it." Sunghoon gets it wrong again and the crows that previously hid seemed to come alive now, causing commotion in the tree crowns while he continues to try to get his vows right, the bright moon now shining through the rustling leaves of the forest. "With this hand, I lift your sorrows. Your cup will never empty, I will be your wine." The sound of crows cawing becomes more insisting and demanding, encouraging Sunghoon to continue due to the new-found audience. "With this candle, I will light your way in darkness...with this ring..." He pulls out the ring from his pocket and looks at it for a second before kneeling down on one knee and propping the ring on a crooked root that extended from the ground. "...I ask you to be mine!"

The life from the forest had seemed to die in an instant, Sunghoon looks up at the quiet crows before attempting to pull the ring off the ring that had previously moved, but it manages to grab him around the wrist first. Just like that, he pulled himself free, pulling other roots along with him. While he is sprawled on the ground, he sees that the root has become a skeletal hand clamping around his wrist once more. Sunghoon exclaims in horror and shoves it away, and sees the ground in front of him split open, revealing a figure with a tattered and old wedding dress wearing his ring. "You may kiss the bride!" You cheer, but Sunghoon scrambles backwards, pushing and hitting leaves and roots while he tries to frantically escape. He makes his way through a graveyard and through the forest until he finds ease by the bridge, finally stoping to catch his breath, but when he turns around and sees you approaching him, and he is frozen in terror, letting you and the crows come close and encircle him.

The crows finally seemed to fly away and as Sunghoon looks around, all he sees are the misshapen buildings and totally different atmosphare from the last. "You were wonderful! So passionate. It was everything I dreamed of!" You exclaim giddily while a Black Widow climbs down your veil and shoots a web at Sunghoon when he takes a step back. "Now, dear, where do you think you're going?" Then an old maggot pops out of your eye, and you pop it right back in after it says, "I don't like him, he's creepy." The irony makes the situation all too hillarious, but scaring to Sunghoon who's still dizzy in the head from how sudden everything has changed.

"Oh Sunghoon! I can't wait for you to meet everyone!" You cheer excitedly. "How...how do you know my name?" He asks, hesitant, his knees quivering as he stands behind you. "You think I'd marry a stranger? Come one!" You grab him by the hand, pulling his sloppy body behind yours. You take him to the town squere while Sunghoon does his best to try to get help and get back to where he came from. He calls out, "Help! You have to help me, I've been kidnapped by . . . " before he finishes his sentence, the passer-by turns around to reveal that he is also a corspe. "...the dead." He mutters the last part unenthustiastically and recoils in horror. "He's a fresh one." Someone comments. "He's still soft." Another ones inquires, poking at Sunghoon with a stick. Everyone gathers around to observe the human.

"He's my husband. He gave me this ring!" You show it off to everyone proudly, your arm extended out and the crowd cheered and awes at the sight. Sunghoon gets overwhelmed by this, someone eagerly shakes his hand and makes a comment on how it stayed, then someone else figured put that he was breathing, fortunately, and getting close enough to hear his panting. "Oh please, leave him alone. He's only just arrived." You interrupt and turn to Sunghoon, your left eye popping out in the process and reveals the maggot from before. "We saw the whole wedding. It was romantic!" The green coloured being recalls, and from behind, the Black Widow appears again. "He reminds me of my third, seventh, twenty-fourth, and sixtythird husbands." "Before you ate them?" The maggot asks. "There was one thing missing though. He forgot to kiss the bride." Upon hearing what the maggot said, the crowd errupted in chants like highschool boys before a match in the locker rooms, and you giggle at this, hearing them chanting, "Kiss her! Kiss her!" This all still seems so surrel to Sunghoon, and he feels his eyelids shut and his knees buckle before it turns black.

Sunghoon wakes up and finds himself in some sort of pub with green flames lighting up the place, and in his field of vision, he sees skeletons leaning over him. "Have a drink dear boy." The waiter says, his head peeking through the fire and only his head is visible. He slides Sunghoon a glass before greeting you. While you mingle and spark conversations, Sunghoon waits there with wide eyes and horror as he inspects the area. He sees a band of corpses playing on some exotic instruments made of bones and scraps, and he also sees someone playing chess with a sword through his chest, and someone's jaw snaps and falls into someone else's bowl. Sunghoon feels like he's about to snap again, his knees feel restless like they want to run away and his palms are coated with glistering sweat. When no one's looking, Sunghoon finds the perfect opportunity to stand up and grabs the sword that had pierced one of the skeletons before, his sudden confidence and action caused everyone to stop what they were doing, and now they were looking at him in shock.

"Keep away! I have a ... Dwarf, and I'm not afraid to use him!! I want some questions! Now!" Sunghoon's hands are shaking and the nervousity is evident in his stance and voice. "Answers. I think you mean answers." Someone else corrects him. "Thank you, yes, answers. I need answers! Where am I? Why am I here? And who is she?!" Sunghoon calls out.

The lights suddenly dims and a spot light shines on the stage. "Since you're askin' . . . Hit it boys!" Someone on stage snapped his fingers and they began singing and dancing. After the show took a pause, Sunghoon uttered, "Pardon me, fellows, i''m going to be sick." Then they returned to singing again, and the cook hit the singer with her ladle.

The pud seemed so alive even though everyone here, excluding Sunghoon was dead. You plant a big kiss on his cheek after the song ends, leaving Sunghoon totally stunned.

You and Sunghoon were led to a table that was romantically lit by a single candle that created a comfortable atmosphare. "Dead! Demise...expired..." Sunghoon sprouted out of frustration. Then the head chef, named Paul, comes forward and speaks with a thick and clear accent. He asks if Sunghoon has any allgeriges, and he says, "Not that it matters anymore. Being that I kicked the bucket. Shuffled off this mortal coil." He says disheartened. In front of him, both you and Paul exchange awkward glances. "Young man, you are confused. You're not dead. You're just married!" Paul says, trying to cheer him up, but Sunghoon looks like he's had enough. "Very funny." "No, really. It's true." You say, and holds his hand above the candle on the table which makes him yelp out in pain. "Feel better?" You ask sincerily. Sunghoon rubs his hand and answers, "That hurt. But wait...that must mean...I'm still alive. I'm alive!" For the first time ever since he spoke his vows he seemed happy. The chef is annoyed by this, but you smile along with Sunghoon, happy that he is finally happy.

"But how can a living person marry a dead person?" He asks. "By making a vow! Which you did!" You say, smiling through it all. "But I'm already supposed to marry Wonyoung." "I'm sure she'll get over it. There's a lot of living people." You can sense how Sunghoon isn't trusting you yet.

"This Wonyoung. Did you love her?" You ask. "i never got the chance to find out. Truth is, we hardly know each other." Sunghoon sulks. "The thing is, Sunghoon, I know a lot about you. i've watched you wandering around the forest...sketching." Sunghoon perks an eyebrow at this and asks, "What? when?" "Haven't you ever felt like you weren't alone, even when you were? Or saw something out of the corner of your eye and turned and it wasn't there?" you ask and he nods. "It was me" You see how he finally relaxes and is deeply moved by this for some reason.

"We live in two different worlds, but they overlap sometimes. I think we're meant to find each other." You say. "i don't even know your name." he argues, his eyebrows are visibly knitted together as his eyes wander all over the place. "I can't believe I forgot to tell you my name...in all this excitement. My name is y/n." "I also have a little wedding gift for you." You whispered through your bony fingers and out comes a skeleton dog that rushes over to the table with its tail wagging happily. "Gaeul! My dog!" Sunghoon cheers after reading the name tag, happy to see her after a long time of being separated. Gaeul jumps up on his lap and licks him on the face. "I knew you'd be happy to see her." As you say that, the dog jumps up on the table and causes a ruckus that mkaes even the cook from earlier to interupt. "Who let that horried beast in here?" the cook exclaims in horror, her laddle waving at the dog. "He came in with the dog." Paul, the waiter, from before remarks, his eyes finding Sunghoon's. "I'm afraid he is mine. I mean was. Gaeul was my dog when I was a little boy." "Keep him out of my kitchen! Who knows where he's been." The cook cuts him off while he reminisce. The small canine friend jumps onto his lap happily while she barks.

"What a cutie." You say. "You should've seen her with fur." Sunghoon replied, while petting Gaeul. "Mother never approved of her jumping up like this. But yet again, she never approved of anything." Sunghoon sulks at the memory. "Do you think she'd approve of me?" You ask curiously. Sunghoon mocks a light of happiness and tells you, "Well, actually...now that you mentioned it, I think she would. Yes!I do believe she would. In fact, since we're m...married...you should meet her! And my father too. You should meet both my parents!" he awaits your reaction nervously. "What a fantastic idea! Let's go find them. Where are they buried?" You ask enthustiastically. "Oh, there's one slight problem..." Sunghoon whispers. "What is it?" "They're not from around here." You ask him where they are, and Sunghoon points his finger up indicating that they are still alive and breathing.

You take him to an elderly who helped creating a potion that took him and you back to the living world. You both pop up in a cementray in the night while it all had become gray again. You take a moment to yourself, missing the moonlight, so you dance under the trees, catching his full attention as your dress resembled smoke. You took a deep breath in and asked him which house was his. Sunghoon takes a moment and points to one on the right, which isn't his own home, but Wonyoung's. "Why don't I go first to prepare things?" He lies, and you trust him. After Sunghoon had ran away in the dark, the maggot and black widow appears again. Complementing her by how immensly trusting she is, but with a backhanded meaning to their words.

You now think about the situation. Sunghoon is here, in the living world, where he had mentioned a girl he was suppose to marry. With determination, you followed the path Sunghoon had previously taken. You climb up the balcony, hearing voices. "Sunghoon, what's wrong?" You hear a young female voice ask. "I seem to have found myself married. And you should know it is unexpected." He replies hesitantly. You push yousefl up at last, accidentally detaching your leg in the process. "Oh dear, and I did so want to make a good impression! I couldn't wait, darling. I wanted to meet …" Your tone sounded cherry at the start but gradually lost its light after looking up post fixing your leg. You see Wonyoung standing in front of you. Upon seeing this, you wrap one of your arms around Sunghoon's.

"Darling. Who is this?" You sneer at her. "Sunghoon! Who...What is this?" Wonyoung says horrified when she sees the ring on your finger. Sunghoon's head turns to you then Wonyoung once too many times. "Wonyoung, wait you don't understand! I can assure you it is not what you think- She's dead! Look!" He takes your boney arm and flaps it back and forth causing Wonyoung to scream. "Who is she?" You ask. "Yang Wonyoung. The girl I'm supposed to marry." Sunghoon admits. Suddenly the sound of loud banging is heard from through the door and muffled voices are heard yelling.

"You tricked me!" You say aggravated and grab his tightly, saying the word that the elder had told you to say if you wanted to return back to where you came from. Sunghoon panicks and yells for Wonyoung to save him.

"YOU LIED TO ME! Just to get back to that other woman!" You shout, your eyebrows knitted with anger. "Don't you understand. You are the other woman." Sunghoon says saddened, causing your heart to shatter. "No! You're married to me! She's the other woman!" Your hectic movements came to a halt as you wrapped your face with your bont hands and began to cry, Sunghoon is unsure of what to do and stands there awkwardly. The force of yoru tears makes your eye escape the socket, and with no other choice, Sunghoon picks it up and hands it to you again. "Look, I'm sorry....this just can't work." Sunghoon points out the elephant in the room that wasn't that obvious to you. "Why not? It's my eye isn't it?" You ask while putting it back in. "No...your eye is fine." "Really?" Your mood elevated and now you were looking at him lovetsruck again.

"Yes. Listen under different circumstances, well, who knows. But, we are just too different. I mean you're dead." He accentuates. "You should've thought about that before you asked me to marry you." You pout. "Why can't you understand? I'd never marry you!" The words struck you through the chest as if leavening a stinging sensation blooming in your chest. The words were sharp and they hurt you in ways you didn't expect Sunghoon to do. Instead of lashing out at him, you just hang your head down and turn around to walk out the elder's study, leaving Sunghoon feeling like sore thumb.

As you walk away with your head hung low, you pick up your old and dried wedding bouquet and name a couple of flowers, your sadness represented in your tone. Sunghoon can do nothing but watch as you walk away. Your two companions, the Black Window and Maggot are perched on your shoulders like birds as they tell you that Sunghoon isn't someone worth your precious mind and tears, in hopes to cheer you up.

Sunghoon walks up to you in the restaurant with the bouqet in hand, his steps are cautious in the still envirounment. "I think you dropped this..." He whispers, approaching closer and closer to you who is playing with the piano. You don't need to spare him or the flowers a glance before snatching them. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry I lied to you about wanting to meet my parents. Truth is, I'm happier not to see them." he apologises, but you don't turn around nor acknowledge his attendance. The green maggot pops out once more. "Oh! Save it for the living girls, Hoon. I think you've said quite enough already." He comments.

"I never meant to-" Sunghoon gets cut off by the Black Widow appearing once again. "I've had dozens of husbands, none as awful as you. You should be ashamed!" She snarls, her legs waving hysrerically, pointing to him. "But I..." The Maggot is not early to cut him off again and says, "You're married now and there's nothing anyone can do about it. You might as well get used to it." It sounds harsh, but deep down, Sunghoon knows and understands where it's coming from.

"Don't bother, you can't force him to like me." You sulk, your back hunched. "But I do like you. Truly. It's just this evening hasn't exactly been going accoding to...plan." Sunghoon says awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. It is quiet for a while, so quiet that you'd hear a pin drop.

Sunghoon takes a seat on the chair beside you and begings playing on the piano with you. You paus and sneer at him before continuing. It continues like that, Sunghoon improvising and turning this to a duet. The melody is bitterweet yet loving, a tune for only the two of you. Gradually, you open up more, taking the spotlight for a riff, your hand popping off from your wrist and slides across the keys. You pick it up with a giggle. "Pardon my enthusiasm." "I like your enthusiasm."

IN THE VILLAGE SQUERE, spirits and skeletons are gathered with newfound energy to party. Sunghoon looks at the tear of his jacket, and before he can stare at it any longer, Black Widow appears and sews it up again, making it seem like a new jack. All the commotion is interupted by a 'newcomer'. Everyone is eager to see who it is, and Sunghoon almost immedietly calls out for the familiar figure. After chit-chatting with him, Sunghoon learns that Wonyoung is to be married with none other than Heeseung, one of the closest people to his family. Not too far away, you observe his reaction with your eyebrows knitted.

The decorations are set and everyone is cheering and celebrating. You happened to find an elder and speaks with him for a while about marriages. He tells you how it was back in his days when vows where simple and got done with rather quickly after you mentioned how quick yours and Victors were. "Lucky for me, I didn't have to! I was rather silent!" You joke, and when you look at him again, he is dead silent, not moving at all. "Excuse me?" He asks. "I was rather silent?" You repeat, now a lot more hesitant and unsure. "You didn't say your vows?" You shake your head. "My child, you muct both say the vows for the marriage to be binding." The air is still as you stare at each other. You had accidenatlly tricked Sunghoon this whole time, and now you were afraid he'd know about this and run away.

"Surely there's some way to fix this?" You're desperate to get an answer now. "You'll have to complete the cermony by saying your vows." "I'll say them right now!" Your breath is caught in your air way as you choke this out only for the elder to shake his head. He tells you that since the original cermony occured in the land of the living, your vows will need to be in the land of the living as well. Your bones are shaking and you can't bear to hear someone else tell you to be 'reasonable'. If you want to go to the living world, then so be it, but you don't want him to tell you that maybe the two of you weren't meant to be. You wanted to cry out of anger, it was as if nothing you ever desired would land in your arms easily. You have had enough of this.

"Listen up people! Listen up! There's a change of venue! Grab what you can and follow me! We're moving this party." Everyone cheers in excitement, but the elder has a look of concern on his face. While on the way, people rocket quesntions your way, and you ramble out an answer in an instant, not wanting to seem suspicious to Sunghoon in any way.

IN THE WORLD OF THE LIVING You and Sunghoon are close like a set. It is all well and the elder flips through a book as you and Sunghoon joing him for the ceremony. "Let's get straight to the vows. Living first." He bows to Sunghoon. You slip the ring off your finger and place it in his palm, he smiles at you, and you smile back, but there's a piece of guilt in your heart. After he finishes his vows, putting the ring back on your finger, the elder motions for you to say your vows. You take a deep breath in and began to speak, but half-way through you spot a familiar face hiding in the courner of the place, horror written on her face, it was Wonyoung.

"I can't" You pause. "What's wrong?" Sunghoon asks confused. "This is wrong." You let a tear roll down your cold cheek. Once again, you pull the ring off your finger. As you look at him you recall the desperate moments you shared with Sunghoon, it was embarrasing to think that this could be; the living and the dead. It all added up likes puzzle pieces and you were finally ready to accept the truth that stung so badly, leaving a permanent scar deep, deep within the old ones that are yet to heal.

"I LOVE YOU, Sunghoon, but you're not mine. My dreams were stolen from me, and now I've taken them from someone else." You look over at where you had seen the young lady, Wonyoung, before, and Sunghoon does so too. "Wonyoung!" he whispers to himself at the sight. Upon being the new centre of attention, you ask Wonyoung to come forward, and she does. You take her hand in yours, and asks Sunghoon for his as well. You gently place his on top of her hers, happy for them to finally be reunited. "Oh, how touching. I always cry at weddings." Another familiar voice calls out, and everyone looks over at the gate to reveal Heeseung causing the trio to gasp. "Our young lovers together at least. Surely now they can live happily ever after." He walks upp to the altar and grabs Wonyoung by the wirst, succesfully snatching her away from you two.

"you." you whisper, your pupils shrinking at the horrid sight. "y/n?" He echoes, equally as shocked. "You!" you repeat angered. "but-but, I left you" He stutters, and you finish his sentence, "for dead." This statement causes everyone in the crowd to gasp. Heeseung does his best to escape, even pulling a sword from someone's body only to first aim it at Wonyoung's throat and then at Sunghoon who challenge him to a duel. It is an intense chase of cat and mouse before Sunghoon gets knocked down on the floor, the sword aimed at his face. Heeseung doesn't hesitate to strike his sword at him, and you don't hesitate either to come in between, grebbing the sword that had stuck in between your ribs. You pulled it out and aimed it at him.

"get out." you ordered him. "Oh, I'm leaving." he says, walking up to the altar and grabbing a cup from the table all whilst you're still on guard. "But first, a toast to y/n!" he says raising his cup with red liquid. "Always the bridesmaid, never the bride. Tell me, my dear, can a heart still break once it stopped beating? hmm?" His words are harsh, leaving yet another scar. You silenly watch as he takes a gulp of the cup which he thinks is wine, but is actually poision, and he dies just before he manages to get out of the building.

While the rest of the corpses takes care of the now dead Heeseung, Sunghoon and Wonyoung are snuggled together. "I never thought I'd see you again." You walk away, not wanting to disturb their moment until you hear the male voice call out for you to wait. "I made a promise." He says, chasing behind you. "you kept your promise. you set me free. Now, I can do the same for you." You say one last time, pulling the ring off your finger and encaving it in his palm by clasping yours around his before turning around. The tears are eager to escape, but you wont let them, not now at least. With one last glace behind, your throw the bouquet in your grasp to the newly made couple with a smile before you stepped out in the bright moonlight. The second it hits your veil, it began to crumble and turn into small butterlies and just like that, you disappeared with no regrets.

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