#my ass has no heat resistance and will melt on the spot and die

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

Man, even if they cured covid tomorrow I would still bring a mask with me in winter. That and a hat is like wearing a balaclava that it easy to take off once inside. Even though I wear n-95s now I’m still going to be wearing a cloth one on top this winter because when it’s -18 degrees Fahrenheit (around -27 for you Celsius people) and you have a cloth mask on my skin feels so much less burning and my throat stings less. I don’t know why we didn’t think of this combination sooner but man, I’m not stopping it this winter

[tteokdoroki]

all the love in the world | k.bakugou.

⇝ pairing: katsuki bakugou x fem!reader.

⇝ word count: 5.1K

⇝ rating: 18+, mature.

⇝ genre: pro hero!au, engaged!au, fluff and smut.

⇝ summary: as hard to believe as it may seem, bakugou lives for time off, where the days begin with him waking up by your side and  end with him falling asleep right next to you, while he thinks of all the ways he can love you during the hours in between.

⇝ warning(s): please read ! fluffy domestic bakugou ( i think this needed a warning okay? ), smut ( characters aged up to 20s ), soft morning sex, fingering ( female recieving ), dry humping, light!praise, heavy!breeding kink, switch!reader, dom!bakugou.

⇝ author’s note(s): hellooo my loves ! as a celebration of me reaching 100+ followers, i bring you my very first written imagine !! i love the idea of domestic baku so i hope you enoy reading as i did writing !! special thanks to @ozzy-bozzy​ for the teddy bear bracelets idea hehe

⇝ masterlist | requests

katsuki bakugou considered himself to be a very lucky person.

when he was younger he’d been blessed by a powerful quirk which only lead him to exceed his classmates back in U.A. he’d graduated said school’s hero course top of his class, even if he’d failed his provisionals the first time round— nothing could stop him from becoming the best.

so when the hot headed blonde bagged the role of side kick at a top hero agency and then launched himself to the highest points in the hero charts as a pro later on, katsuki felt like all of his dreams had come true.

that was until, he’d proposed to you.

you were katsuki’s final dream, for him to wait for you at the end of the aisle— your watery smile just for him. 

that’s the vision he saw in his sleep. when you had said yes to him, the night you got engaged under the stars and amongst the roses, it was then that the explosive hero had realised how lucky he truly was.

he had loved you for a long time, katsuki had— he almost couldn’t remember the time when he hadn’t. in the time that you’d spent together; soft gazes and lingering touches, you’d taught him a lot and he’d learned through your tolerance and generosity, something that had rubbed off on him, something he’d so desperately needed to cool down his hot demeanour.

he was grateful for a lot of things, all of the things you’d taught him— but mostly the entirety of you. while you’d always said that neither of you completed each other and only made one another better, bakugou knew that his life would be complete with you in it forever.

 he knew  from the moment you’d pinned him down underneath you during training back in high school— that he was going to make you his wife someday.

“jesus katsu, why’re you up s’early? it’s supposed to be our day off,” you mumble into your silk sheets; his scent sewn into your pillows. katsuki likes the orange silk that lines your bed; mostly because of the colour and partly because other fabrics irritate his skin. with sleepy eyes, you blink up at the blonde and catch him staring mid act. like always, bakugou looks away with a heated blush and paws it away from his cheeks. “whatcha lookin’ at dummy?”

one of kastuki’s favourite things is the way you look when you first wake up, groggily rubbing the sleep away from your eyes with a pout on your lips as the sun hits your face just right— creating a halo effect around you, like you’re his guardian angel…but he wouldn’t ever admit that to you, at least not until his wedding vows. “it’s the only time i get to look at you without hearin’ the dumb shit that comes out your mouth, woman.” katsuki grumbles back, finally meeting your eyes again.  

he can clearly see the love glittering your irises and the faint smile that plays teasingly on your lips as if you know that he’s joking. unwillingly; bakugou feels himself mirror the grin that you bare and a happy warmth then spreads across his chest.

“we still have the whole day ahead for you to ogle me like that katsuki bakugou,” you hum sweetly, the tail end of your words falling into a light giggle. the ash blonde feels his heart flutter just from the sound; a candied melody to his ears that he could never get tired of hearing. 

reaching over your shoulder, katsuki uses his warm hands to roll you over onto his awaiting lap. 

your arms instinctively wrap around his neck as the sheets fall from your body to reveal yourself in one of his shirts with an old merch design and your fingers weave their way into his pretty blonde hair. 

now that you’re in his lap; the pro hero can see the smirk making its way into your face as you look down at him lovingly. “seems like you were doing more than just looking baby…”

your hips grind down against your lover’s now prominent erection that sits hidden in his dark sweats— earning a slight gasp from the man himself. “s-shut up, dumbass…” bakugou growls through gritted teeth while you move above him. 

his words stay lodged in his throat, he wants to tell you that you’re always on his mind no matter what he’s doing or looking at but instead they die down as he drops his head to your neck, leaving sweet kisses along the column of it.

early morning love making with you was what katsuki bakugou considered one of his many blessings. he loves being this close to you— feeling every dip in your skin and kissing every mark on your body, his lips work their way up from your jawline to your chin and finally attempting to land a solid kiss to your own lips.

“nuh, katsu—“ your breathless whine fills the air, sending shivers down the spine of the man below you. he moves up to kiss you again, gripping your hips tightly while your movements begin to sync. “no, morning…morning breath…”

bakugou huffs, hand finding the back of your head to tilt it down into a soft liplock— contrasting with the harshness of his earlier movements. “fuck morning breath, i haven’t made love to you properly in a fucking week so let me kiss you. fuck.” usually, katsuki would have added his salty pet name of ‘shitty woman’ to the tail end of his phrases but he bites his tongue, saving it for later.

you give into your fiancé then, falling in love with the way his lips meld against yours so passionately all over again. fingers that belong to bakugou dance underneath your shirt, finding you bare within the fabric. one hand slips between your plush thighs, smoothly rubbing circles into your swelling clit ever so gently.

your breath hitches as katsuki traps you under his touch, playing with your folds as they begin to grow slick and form a wet patch on his deep grey sweats, making him groan. 

the explosive pro pushes two of his digits past your entrance, curling them and watching with sparkling scarlet eyes as your mouth hangs open in of the prettiest moans katsuki’s ever heard— his mouth falls open with you while your head tilts back, exposing your sweat glimmering skin to the sun’s rays. “feel good baby? yeah, you like that?” he mumbles condescendingly, slowly pumping them inside of you. “yeah you do,  yeah you fuckin’ do.”

“yeah, katsu...more…” a  breathless moan escapes you with every thrust of bakugou’s hot fingers, the cheeky bastard setting off small scale explosions to stimulate you from within. he’s hot, the heat from his body filling the space between you and spreading right down to your glistening mound— causing slick to gush from your tiny abused hole. 

you can feel his cock pulse beneath you with every twist of his fingers to reach that spongy pleasure spot deep within your leaking hot walls.

katsuki’s thick fingers stretch open your tiny hole, making your mouth water at the thought of his weighty cock being the next thing press into you but your raging thoughts are swiftly interrupted by your fiancé— who pulls from you completely and sucks the two fingers into his mouth to lick them clean of your sweet nectar.

katsuki keeps his vermillion eyes locked on you, the lewd action making saliva pool on your tongue. his own pink muscle darts out to wet his lips, no doubt spreading the taste of you across them before making a move to kiss you. 

the pro is quickly stopped, your hands that once roamed his bare back and messed hair, now pinning his own above his head.

bakugou is a strong man, he wouldn’t have been a top hero if he wasn’t— he trained constantly and sparred often with his fellow heroes but he doesn’t resist when you grip his wrists in your free hand, releasing his hard cock from it’s restraints before it slaps against his well toned stomach.

milky precum leaks against his warm skin, while you prepare yourself to mount him. the pair of you let out a groan in unison as you sink down on the hero’s thick length— as if the tensions and stresses of the week have melted away just him being sheathed inside of you.

“mnnn, so fuckin’ tight baby, gonna need to fuck you open again…”

bakugou’s voice is low and gravelly from the early morning, just how you like as his hips roll up into yours— further pushing his fat cock into you. his tip barely grazes your cervix  as you set the pace, lifting yourself up and down to bounce on your lover’s length. 

the way you feel inside, your soft velvety walls and gushing pussy make him buck up into you with more fever, as his own symphony of moans and weightless gasps dance through your ears. “yeah? take this pussy katsuki…m-make it yours,” you sigh, grip on his wrists loosening to the point where you set him free.  the blonde’s hands immediately move to grip your ass tightly— smirking at you lazily while the pads of his fingers sink into your flesh.

you look beautiful to him, bouncing on his cock and dripping all over his pelvis under the early morning sun, the way the gold lights up your hazy lust filled eyes.  

the fire of desire burns brightly in the depths of katsuki’s stomach, love finds its way into each of his thrusts from then on— mind clouding with the desire to fill you up so good with his love as the leaking  head of his thick girth drags against your walls, prodding at the spot that has you seeing stars. “that’s right yn baby…fuck that cock, fuck yeah baby,” he whispers brokenly to you, chest rising and falling desperately while sweat beads on his hairline. “love you, love you s’much...”

bakugou watches your gaze on him soften at his confession, the words he doesn’t say often but shows you everyday still hanging in the thick, warm air.  “i love you katsu, p-please,” your erratic thrusts slow to somewhat of a passionate grind, two lovers pressed hotly against one another as the sounds of your moans twist with that of skin on skin.

knot in your stomach tightening, katsuki can feel your release creeping on you from the way you clench around him at every plunge deep inside your sweet hole. strong arms wrap around you, katsuki noticing how you shake from pleasure above him while he brings you down onto loving thrusts as if to draw you closer. 

“gonna cum!”

your fiancé nods into your neck, rubbing smooth circles over your back as he pulls out of your heat completely and earns a needy whine from you. your hole spasms around nothing, right on the edge of release before bakugou forces his girth back into your accepting pushing. “cum for me angel, right on this cock,” he pants, holding you close while he rocks into you. “i've got you baby, let it all out…”

“mph, baku-! oh !”

hips stilling above his, you scratch and claw at any part of bakugou’s skin that you can— shaking as your release splashes against him, sending your eyes rolling to the back of your head and white spots dancing across your vision. the tightness of your heat drives the pro right over the edge, hot ropes of thick cum painting your insides white as his release reaches your womb.

the pair of you lay still, catching your breath as you collapse forward on your lover’s chest. while your breathing slows, katsuki rubs warming circles into your back to help calm you down— only smiling softly when you look up at him with clear, affectionate eyes. “did so good for me yn, fuckin’ love it when you take my cock like that first thing in the morning,” his words are soft on his usually sharp tongue, bakugou smoothing a thumb over your cheek while using a forefinger to tilt your head up into a sweet kiss

“always and only for you, my love,” you hum, eyes fluttering shut at the simple gesture even after you pull away. “and if you keep cummin’ in me like that katsuki ‘m gonna end up pregnant one of these days…”

bakugou smirks, pressing smaller kisses all over your face to make you giggle. you smile and greedily accept each one, loving the these tender moments between yourself and your fiancé.  “maybe that’s the fucking point, dumbass,”  he quips, biting on your cheek after landing a kiss there. “trying to put a shitty little brat in you.”

despite the small bite to his words, a blush still manages to creep its way onto katsuki’s face as you lay your head down on his chest with a smack to his waist. the ash blonde means every word and you know it too, he can tell by the knowing smile and slight gleam in your eye.

you fall back asleep not long after bakugou cleans you up.

he’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy counting every mark and bite he’d left on you as he tenderly wiped between your thighs and massaged over your skin. 

but he loved how cute you looked when curled up on his chest more, your hand clings to bakugou’s shoulder as if to check he’s still there even in your sleep— giving the hero ample opportunity to play with the ‘teddy bear’ bracelet thats cuffed to your wrist. you’d made it for one of your anniversaries; matching the ‘grizzly bear’ one on his own.

prying himself from your arms is no easy task for katsuki, your grip on him like an adorable iron vice or a child with a teddy bear. after setting himself free, the ash blonde with the crimson eyes heads down to the kitchen to make breakfast for the two of you— it was some what of a routine on your days off together, you always got the munchies after sex and bakugou knew just how to soothe your roaring appetite.

as he worked with the eggs and other breakfast ingredients, katsuki thought back to how much you praised him for his skills in the kitchen— he knew how much you loved his cooking and he would do anything to see you smile.

“god katsuki, i might have to start taking more days off it means i get to see my grizzly bear in the kitchen like this,” you hum from place leaning against the door frame. 

your fiancé turns round to face you with a light smirk, glimmering eyes inviting you further into the room. the explosive pro holds the sizzling pan he’d taken off the stove high above your head as you cuddle into his side, breathing in his warm caramel scent.

katsuki clicks his tongue, staring down at you fondly. “tell that to the fucking villains who fuck up the city every other day, maybe then we’d have more time to relax.” he counters, pulling a sweet chuckle from your sweet lips.

“if we start handing out your cooking, they’ll probably start turning themselves in!” you tease your lover back, swiping a bit of the pancakes from the pan above your head. katsuki grumbles and pats your ass indulgently— the supple skin peaking out from under the shirt that’s found it’s way back over your form. it’s a silent scold for eating before he’s fixed you a plate of all your favourites.

as usual bakugou pulls out your chair at the table, pressing his lips to your hairline before putting your steaming plate in front of you. your mouth waters while katsuki takes his seat opposite you with rolling eyes as he watches you tuck in to your breakfast. 

the entirety of your meal is filled with lingering gazes and hums of delight while you eat, almost as if you’re back on your first date ( bakugou spent half of the time watching you eat rather than doing so himself, but he just wanted to see if you liked the place ). 

leaning over the table to wipe syrup from your chin, the blonde smirks— quiet words falling calmly from his lips. “what do you want to do today, sweetheart?”

the birds chirps lovingly outside of your window, dancing under the sunshine— they remind you of your early mentor and often patrol partner hawks, who you needed to remember to invite to dinner soon. 

the weather is nice today and that gives you an idea. “let’s go out,” your eyes sparkle with a million dreams, each one bakugou wants to live out with you. “to the park with the roses, the pink ones where you—“

“where i proposed, got it,” katsuki smiles, the fond memory catching the tail end of his words. “i hear they introduced some new blooms too.”

you mirror his expression; stabbing your fork through a strawberry in the bowl of fresh fruit your lover had prepared for you. you hold the fork out to his lips and watch amusedly as he chomps the fruit from its place. “care to escort me, lover bear?”

“who else is going to? dumbass.”

“miss nightsky ! will ya sign my bag!”

“that’s a nice bag sweet one, you sure i can sign it?”

katsuki loves the way you are with kids, even though you’re a massive child yourself.

the pair of you decided to walk to the park; since the nice weather held up and it wasn’t too far from your private neighbourhood— even though it took a little longer to get there than expected. 

not that either of you minded, but many curious fans stopped to talk and ask for pictures; some even asked for autographs which you happily gave them. while the mighty ground zero was slightly grumbly about it, he adored how kind and patient you were with everyone you met no matter how old they were.

his vermillion eyes, though brownish looking under golden light, sparkle as you ruffle the little kid’s hair and wave politely to their awaiting parents. bakugou wants to have kids with you one day. 

it was something he hadn’t really thought about until recently, he knew it would be difficult, with both of you reaching the heights of your careers and the pair of you were still very private about your relationship as well, with word of your recent engagement already slipping into the tabloids.

there was no doubt that they’d speculate about your marriage too, no matter how private you kept it. keeping a child secret would be even harder. 

and yet; the thought of you holding a baby…his baby would, on some nights lull him to sleep.

you squeal like a little girl when the ash blonde stops to buy you an ice cream from a van by the entrance of the park; he can’t stand how much you love mint chocolate chip but buys you a towering double scoop anyways.  “how do you even eat that toothpastey shit?” bakugou grumbles, finishing off his orange popsicle as you walk into the flower garden.

“says the one who likes orange, you have no taste katsuki bakugou.” you chide but take his freehand nonetheless. the explosive pro’s thumb brushes over the back of your hand while you make your way through and he can’t help but pluck one of the pretty blooms from the bushes to tuck behind your ear.

you scold him for taking the flowers but your smile betrays you as katsuki dips you for a honeyed kiss on the lips. 

he’s never one for PDA but this was your spot, here just last year bakugou had sunk to his knees in front of you with an expensive diamond ring you were eyeing months before ( you would never say anything but katsuki always picked up on these things ). 

he would also never admit it, but his hand shook with every word that passed his lips and you were sure he had been crying harder than you were while he slipped a ring on your finger.

your secret kisses and tangled limbs hiding deep in the rose bushes are soon completely soaked by an onslaught of unexpected rain.

you shriek at the rain while katsuki grabs your hand, free arms thrown over your heads as you make a dash from the flower garden and head for the main streets in order to catch a bus.

the pair of you giggle as you stumble onto the vehicle, ringing out your drenched clothes and wiping at your wet faces as it heads home. bakugou pulls you into his arms, head resting atop yours to draw you closer— the heat from his quirk allows him to keep you warm and you get a load full of his sugary scent as well ( not that you mind ).

you stay like that on through the rustling traffic, cuddling like a cat to your heated fiancé but a tug on the bottom of bakugou’s wet shirt captures your attention. the pair of you look down to catch the innocent eyes belonging to a darling little girl. “u-uh h-hi mister gwound zewo!” the little one stumbles through her words and in the corner of your eyes you can spot the girl’s mother and give her a reassuring grin.

bakugou’s gaze softens at the curly haired girl and releases you to crouch down to her level despite the shaking bus.  his hand still holds onto yours though. 

he ruffles her hair with his free hand, making your heart warm— there was a side of katsuki the public never really got to see, where the hotheaded pro could be tender and quiet and often quite reserved. 

the media got a kick out of playing on the ash blonde’s explosive nature but moments like this let the real bakugou shine through.

“hey there kiddo, whatcha’ got there?” katsuki mumbles delicatley, noticing the girl hiding something behind her back.

“tisswue! for my favouwite hewo!” the little one says, gingerly holding it out to the blonde’s wet face for him to use. bakugou taps his cheek and cleans closer to let the little girl wipe his face with a tiny chubby hand. they chatter for the rest of the ride home— the girl bashfully twirling her hair around her fingers as katsuki compliments her quirk.

leaning your head on katsuki’s soused shoulder while you walk home, you look up at him with an adoring expression, wondering what he’d be like with a little girl of your own. “that was quiet adorable mister ground zero, you stole my hear away!” you tease, kissing your linked hands.

“yeah? well don’t get used to it shitty woman.” he says through gritted teeth and marches you both through the rain to get you home but the blush on his face tells you otherwise. if you ever had a daughter, you could only imagine what he’d be like with her.

katsuki heads straight for the shower when you get in, leaving you to pick a movie and order takeout as you’d discussed on the way home.

it was a regular routine for you both on nights off; you always picked the movie because if you left it up to your fiancé you’d end up watching some boring documentary on all might or cooking ( he was a closeted nerd at heart ). 

you settle on a cheesy romcom that you’ve seen about a hundred times because for one;  it’s your favourite and two, you’ll never get tired of seeing bakugou cry towards the end of the movie.

“take out should be here in twenty!” you call to your lover, when he passes by you to enter your living room.

“got it, now go wash up before you catch a cold, stupid—“ the ends of katsuki’s words are cut off by your stream of giggles, bouncing off your cream coloured walls. your ash blonde fiancé has half a mind to curse you out for slapping his ass through his fresh set of sweat pants but rolls his eyes nonetheless. 

he finishes pulling his tank top over his head while heading deeper into the room, not wanting to answer the door without one ( as much as your regular delivery driver would like that ).

while in the shower, you manage to scrub away stains of the rain and soreness from the day— washing over sweet love marks from katsuki with pride. a temporary reminder of his eternal love for you and you only. 

there’s already a change of clothes waiting for you when you step out of the shower; one of his old shirts and a set of boxers that you slip into comfortably. your nostrils are filled with nothing but the alluring scent of burning sugar, the traces left by bakugou himself.

he’s already munching on a box of tempura by the time you’ve headed back downstairs, crimson eyes light up when they land on you and you make a dive for the couch— rolling into katsuki’s side. “did you tip the delivery driver?” you ask, watching as your fiancé dips a piece of the food into some sauce before he holds it up to your lips.

“damn right i did, i didn’t wanna though…they kept staring at my arms,” bakugou revels in the way you laugh around the piece of food he pushes into your mouth. you chew with a grateful smile, the look of amusement never leaving your pretty face. “whatcha laughin’ at dumbass?”

“i think you forget how much the public loves your arms, ground zero.”

as soon as you press play on the movie, time seems to fly away from you both— the air is filled with streams of laughter and moments where you swipe from one another’s plates, picking on one another fondly. somehow by the time the film reaches it’s climax the food has been devoured and you’ve ended up huddling into bakugou’s chest. 

fingers laced with yours, bakugou twirls the diamond engagement ring you have on, around your finger, smiling at the precious reminder that you’re to be his forever and always.  “where do you think we’ll be in the future?” you question quietly, nuzzling into your fiancé’s side.

“married, of course.” crimson eyes find yours in the dimly lit room, almost rolling annoyance as if your question is the dumbest thing in the world. in response, you lean up and squish the explosive pro’s cheeks together and beam up at him while he scowls at you.

“stupid, you know that’s not what i meant,” the words despite harsh, leave your lips dreamily and a contented expression crosses your face. “i see us with kids, in a house much bigger than this one and a backyard that stretches for miles and miles—“ your words die warmly in your throat, figuring that you’ve gotten slightly carried away with the fanticies you’ve made for yourself and katsuki. 

in your mind, you can’t help but conjour up a litter of tiny bakugou’s running around a plush green garden— maybe a little dog too and your heart swells in your chest at the idea.

the hot head squeezes your hand, resurfacing you from your sea of thoughts. “you want kids? with me?” his voice is barely above a whisper, all of his vulnerabilities splayed out in the tone as he looks at you warmly.

“a whole family with you, as many as you want.”

suddenly, bakugou has you flipped onto your back and pinned underneath his muscular frame. 

his warm breath fans across your face making your eyes fall heavy with adoration. “four.” the blonde grunts, swooping down to brush his lips gently across yours, not quite kissing you much to your dismay. “i want four of those snotty little gremlins with you, maybe have the fifth by accident and then we’ll get a big fucking house for them to destroy—“

“f-five kids katsu?” you gasp out your words at katsuki starts to press increasingly harsh kisses to your jawline, settling on your neck while he licks over bites he’d left earlier today. 

bakugou murmurs something about ‘you said as many as i want’ before he’s growling at your hands that find their way into his blonde locks, tugging on them tightly as pleasure overwhelms your senses. 

he hums against your sweet skin, finding his place between your legs at the same time as his thoughts take him away from you. he’d love to see you pregnant, so full of his love and his children.

the movie is long forgotten by now as lust settles in every corner of the room. hands push beneath your shirt, groping and massaging your breasts to pull all sorts of sounds from you. 

bakugou forces a knee between your thighs, finally capturing your lips in a hungry and heated kiss— his tongue slips in your mouth after he pinches your thigh, fighting yours in a passionate dance for dominance. “gonna fuck a shitty little brat into you, yn,” katsuki almost whines as he pulls away from your inviting lips to press your foreheads together. you look gorgeous beneath him, flustered with swollen lips from each of your rough kisses and there’s no doubt in his mind you’re thinking the same about him. “gonna fill you up so good, gonna make pretty babies with you, hah?”

“ka-katsuki!” you can’t help but mewl at his breathless sinful words while you fist at his tank top. everything is hot, burning hot and you grind up into him with a newfound desperation, the friction against his hardening length sending your eyes rolling with ecstasy.. “we’re not even— mmm god, right there— we’re not even married yet!”

“gonna be at some point, why waste time fucking trying? not when i can cum in you and give you one right fucking now—“  bakugou moans heavily into your ear, diving back into a sloppy kiss as he fumbles around with the string of his sweatpants. 

you’re whimpering out for him, pulling the blonde into a lustful trance while you make a move to kick off your underwear when the sound of shattering glass pierces through the bubble of horniness you’ve both created. “shit.”

you both freeze and your matching gazes drop to the floor; a rapidly growing stain of red wine spilling onto the carpet under the coffee table your take out was on. 

the fluffy white rug had been a housewarming gift that katsuki begrudgingly accepted from your old school friend and fellow pro, izuku midoriya— so the sight of the now ruined rug makes you both burst out into harmonious laughter. you’re sure the number one wouldn’t mind. it’d make a great wedding story too.

you focus your eyes back on katsuki, cupping his face as that same love filled smile from earlier returns to your face. ”let’s start trying tomorrow, then?”

“tomorrow it is.” bakugou grins back, dotting your hairline with sweet pecks before cuddling into you.

baby making can wait for now, he supposes, for with another day off— he has all the time and all the love in the world to give to you.

[gaiuswrites]

yoga!din thoughts:

they've been fucking around for awhile, but only in the studio. never beyond the studio doors, not even in the cramped, single-person bathroom across the hall. their relationship is purely physical—probably couldn't even consider it fwb. he likes her, is irritated by her, likes the smoothness of her pussy. she likes him, is fascinated by him, likes the rigidness of his cock. it doesn't go much further than that.

that all changes when they run into each other at the grocery store.

I-

christ on a cracker here we go. I’m ready to die now. Cause of death, yoga!Din oh NO-

This... I have no idea what any of this is, but Jess and I have been having a good ol’ time with it. I also want to give a shout out to Rachel for always being a rock in these unprecedented times and taking interest in this main man and I’ll probably be sending you similar messages for your masseuse au to torture you and im not even a little sorry about it

(warnings: SMUT, spanking, language, so pls minors, politely, go home thanks)

She always does this—why does she always do this? 

She drifts down the aisles with the practiced effort of a trapeze artist, juggling the load of groceries bundled to her chest.

Get a cart. Just get a damn cart—a basket, something.

But no. She doesn’t. It happens every time: she goes in for one item—maybe two—and two turns to three and three turns to four, and suddenly they’ve multiplied like rabbits and she’s got half the store in her arms.

Trail mix from the bulk bins, almond milk, coffee grounds, bananas, spirulina powder, those delicious chickpea chips that were buy-one-get-one—how was she supposed to just walk past that—spinach, tofu, zucchini noodles, salmon fillets—

And she nearly drops it all when she spots him. Dark hair, dark eyes.

She stalls out, puttering to a halt. He’s reaching into the frozen meats section, rifling through the various cold cuts. She’d recognize the yawn of his back anywhere, the slope of that broad plane— his arms too, how his tricep cuts across the tawny gold. The shapes they can make. 

The positions they can bend her into.

Maybe it’s best if she just turns around now, sneaks away, pretends like none of this ever happened—she could do that. That would be easy—the easier of the two options, to be sure, because the alternative sounds terrifying and messy, and maybe if she just backs up nice and slow—

Din wheels his cart forwards and glances up. Shit.

He’s not sure what he’s even looking at at first. His feet slow, and there’s a groove creased into his forehead, brow ticking down. She’s here— right here in front of him. How can she be here? How can she be anywhere but where he knows her best—knows her at all? Inside that room, woven limbs and sweaty skin on glossed wood floors. How can she be here—outside that sacred space—in his fucking grocery store?

They stare at each other. She breaks first.

“Hi,” she mumbles out, beguiling.

“Hey,” Din responds, gruffer than he means.

“Hi,” she says again, pressing her lips together to hide a smile.

A grin tugs at him too, but he tampers it; they let a silent, pregnant beat pass between them and then—

“What are you doing he-“ “Have you been here befo-“

They’re speaking over each other—nervous and out of step—and they share a huffed chuckle. They’ve never been this before. They’ve always been physical and brash and bold and they’ve never needed words—they’ve shown each other exactly what they meant and what they wanted through touch—and now, when they need them most, they’re at a loss.

“Just getting some supplies,” she answers him with a shrug, causing one of her many parcels to slip from the precarious tower she’s constructed, and Din, ever agile, catches it before it strays too far. 

“My hero,” she quips dryly, gratefully, as he carefully places the package of tofu on top of the heap. He makes a face, wrinkling his nose. “Is that stuff any good?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” she smirks.

He’s closer to her now, less than an arm���s length away, and Din’s eyes flit to the fading mark at the swallow of her neck, peeking up from the collar of her shirt— the mark he left there just days prior, when she ground down on him, supple frame speared by his cock, rocking frantic and needy up and down on him, whimpering hushed noises into the empty studio. His hand splayed the width of her back, cradling her to him as she rode Din, stretching around him fucking perfectly. 

“Fuck, this pussy takes me so well,” he seethed through a clenched jaw, her breasts rutting against his chest with each bounce of her hips. He growled. “You’re so - shit - you’re tight-” 

Din gave her ass a sharp smack before pawing at it, grabbing a fistful of the flesh there and she moaned— she fucking moaned, depraved and oaky, and knocked her head back, lips falling open and eyes rolling shut. Din groaned at the sight—this woman, this fucking thorn in his goddamn side—sheathed around him, writhing as he fucked up into her—and she had the audacity to moan like that. 

“You like that?” He slapped her ass again and she whimpered, clawing at him, tangling her fingers into his hair, nails scraping over his scalp. He had to resist the urge to shudder—snapping his mouth tight around a whine.

Normally, she’d meet him with some sort of resistance. She was cheeky and smarmy and they both knew it—it’s a game they played—perfectly balanced, perfectly opposed. But she couldn’t help it—she was too far gone, too fucked out, and the words unspooled from her lips like yarn. 

“Yes-yes—fuck, Din- please.”

That earned her another swift crack, the pillowed flesh prickling red from the sting of his palm, and it tore a guttural sound out of her, wrecking through her pretty throat. “God, you’re a filthy little thing. So f-fucking filthy for me-“ 

He ripped her orgasm out of her, his fingers snaked between their bodies, furiously working at her clit in tight, wet circles. It felt like a punch to his gut, as her pussy clamped down around him and gushed. 

When he finally came, spilling into her slicked cunt, he had to bite down on her neck just to keep from fucking shouting. 

He tears his gaze off the bruise, returning to her face—and it’s hardly any better. The corner of her mouth has turned up, just barely, the whisper of it wry and aching. That look—that infuriating, debilitating glint in her eyes—has settled and it makes his cock twitch against his jeans.

“Having a barbecue?” she asks, nodding to his cart, the beer and buns and patties there.

He clears his throat, “Something like that.”

Fenn insisted on it—’I’m not wasting the perfect weather. We’re all doing something, whether you like it or not’— He could only fight her on it for so long. Lesser men have tried and failed, and he knew it best to quit while he was ahead.

“Sounds fun. It’s supposed to be a beautiful weekend.”

“Yeah, so I hear.” Din has to fight the roll of his eyes.

The spell had been broken. They’d spirited themselves away—lying to each other and themselves—as if their tryst existed above consequence, above ramification—like they weren’t even real people. Just ideas, ideas they’d fuck and then suddenly and conveniently vanish—out of sight, out of mind; would disappear as the sun that set on them, blurring lines into the dark.

But he sees her here, clumsy willow arms and cotton tee and cut-off shorts and those beautiful fucking legs he loves wrapped around him so much, and she’s glowing despite the ugly fluorescent sheen cast up from the linoleum tile and—

It’s different. She’s different. Fuller. He knows her now—like this. And he can’t unknow her.

His throat bobs. Maybe he should ask her if she’s free. If she’s got plans. Maybe—

“I’ll see you on Wednesday then,” she says, something unreadable in her voice.

Din swallows. He nods. “Wednesday.”

Oh fuck, he likes her.

She tips her head to him, grinning something small, and shuffles off towards the register.

He watches her go, eyes following as she rounds a corner and slips away. She can feel them on her, his eyes, boring into her backside—all the way to her car, through the town, up to her driveway, into her kitchen where she cupboards her groceries—she feels him, the heavy heat of him, melting against her spine.

@djarinsbeskar @frannyzooey @pedros-mustache

[spookysmujer]

Or Nah, O. Diaz

Summary: You spend the night teasing Oscar and he ends up putting you in your place.

warning: s m u t (18+) 🥵, bratty!Reader

word count: 2k

requested by: @aneitii

A/N: I am so happy to be getting more and more requests, that y’all believe in me to bring to life your fantasies! SO REQUESTS ARE OPEN! I am getting back into the grove of writing fanfic again, on this blog and slowly on my @losolvidad0s blog. I hope you enjoy this babes! Please consider following this blog, heart/comment/reblog my content as well turning on the notifs for when I post!

taglist: @clemmingstylins0n @fairygardenss @firebenderwolf​ @spookysnena​ @princesstiffxoxo​ @mbaku-babygirl​ @chellybear98​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @i-just-wanna-live-gc​ (please let me know if you wanna be added or removed!)

(Gif belongs to @merakiaes 💫)

Nothing can beat a Friday night and good company. Especially when it’s those two things at the Santos house. The usuals have filled the backyard and the music is bumping. Everyone is having a good time, everyone except you.

The night didn’t start this way but as Oscar spent more time giving his attention to his compas rather than you it began to irritate you beyond belief. Granted, you can be a bit a brat when it comes to having his attention, tonight he knows that he’s upsetting you with it. And two can play at that game. 

“Hey, I’m gonna be right back. It’s way too hot for these jeans.” You excuse yourself from the group of ladies you were drinking with to head into the house. The mischievous grin spreading across your face like a Cheshire cat.

You dig through the drawer you have as yours in Oscar’s dresser. Shuffling through the stack of bottoms to find what you were looking for and when you spot it, you internally squeal.

A perfect ploy to get your man’s attention and keep it on you, and you only.

The air is cooler as you step back out into the bustling backyard and immediate eyes are set on you. The pencil skirt, tight and short on your thighs and doing nothing but good things for your behind.

“Damn mama!” If everyone’s attention wasn’t on you then, Joker saying something has got it now. He holds a fist to his mouth and inhales at the sight of your smooth legs exposed.

Oscar’s eyes land on you and he can’t deny the twitch he felt in his pants especially when you had your back to him. He clears his throat loudly which signals everyone to take their eyes off you. Everyone knows how territorial Oscar is when it comes to you.

You walk pass Oscar, his eyes trained on you the entire time despite the people around him trying to strike up conversation. “Man, that is much better. Does it look okay?” The girls hype you up with oh’s and ah’s especially when you turn to show them your plump behind, looking over your shoulder to get a look yourself and you don’t miss the look Oscar is giving you, has been giving you.

He isn’t the type of guy to slip away to go fuck when he is hosting a party, which is why you are enjoying every second of this. Looking this nice in the skimpy outfit knowing that it will rile him up until everyone is gone.

After some conversation with a few people, Oscar whistles to get your attention. You look over at him and he tips his head for you to make your way over to him, you tilt your head to the side and mouth ‘no’ to him.

Oscar’s face contorts to irritation as you just smile and walk further away from him. The game you’re playing is a dangerous one and you know it too. Once you came across a post on IG saying, ‘Piss him off now, so he can fuck you harder later.’ The post circulating in your mind.

You start to think how rough he’ll be with you. How he’ll feel every inch of your body and kiss all the visible skin leaving marks to let his homies who you belong to. Despite your headstrong nature of independence, it’s something about belonging to someone that turns you on. The thoughts going right to your heat and you squeeze your thighs together. 

As the party begins to die down and more people leave, you begin to feel the excitement course through your veins. Your eyes scan the backyard for Oscar but you can’t find him until you turn and bump into a body.

“Homies starting to leave.” He states the obvious and you pretend to look around like you haven’t noticed, “And you’ve been a brat tonight. You know exactly what you were doing putting that on, sucia.” He dips his head down until his mouth is next to your ear when he whispers that last word, breath hitting the side of your neck.

Your eyes close for a brief moment as you feel his body heat move away from you. He smirks as he stretches with his arms above his head and his skin peeps through below his flannel, his happy trail poking out and oh, you can’t explain how much you love to see it.

Oscar wipes his hand over his mouth and looks around before closing the space between you. Your face nearly against his chest as his moves his hand between your nearly touching bodies. It moves at the bottom of your skirt and his fingers brush against the lace fabric of your underwear.

When you feel the feather touches you recoil and grab his hand to move away. Oscar is never one for public displays of affection, always said that was for little kids like his brother and girlfriend. He hums when you look up at him.

“If your ass isn’t on the bed in 5, I’ll make you watch another hyna suck me off while you’re tied down to the bed.” You’re breathless as he spews out the filthy words.

It’s almost like the speed of sound that you are entering the bedroom. You step in slowly as you see the light of the conjoined bathroom shine under the door. A huff from your nose as you crawl on the bed, waiting for the unknown.

Oscar comes out with a towel dangerously low around his hips. You lay back with your knees up, swaying side to side and a finger between your teeth. He’s standing at the foot of the bed, as he leans forwards to rest his now balled up fist on top the sheets. His muscles bulging as well.

You open your legs, letting the skirt rise up towards your hips. The finger in your mouth now being suckled on like a ice pop on a hot day. With it coated with your saliva you bring it between your legs and into your panties that now sport a wet spot. “Mhmm,” You moan as you fingers begin to assault the swollen bud, so sensitive and yearning for Oscar’s touch.

He grabs your ankles to pull you to the bottom of the bed roughly, a little squeal escaping you. He keeps his hold on you as he pushes your legs apart, looking down at your wet, but clothed pussy. Oscar licks his lips as he pulls your panties to side, running his finger through your glistening slit. The feeling immensely pleasurable.

“This what I had to look forward to all night?” 

Oscar’s eyes darken as they meet yours. This is the Oscar you want in the bed, the relentless one. The one who runs shit just as Spooky does. He lets your ankles go and grabs your hips roughly, lifting you off the bed and over on your stomach. Before you can push yourself up on all fours, he pushes your head down into the bed.  

His hard member covered by the towel pressing against your ass, you giggle as your wiggle your hips. Oscar pushes your skirt up and your panties down  around your knees. Your ass high up in the air, face down into the bed. Buzzing with excitement to be filled to the hilt with his delicious cock but your met with his mouth instead.

His tongue running from your clit all the way to your anus. You moan as he licks every inch of your bottom, tongue penetrating into your entrance. “O-oh, yes. That’s what I’m fucking talking about. Eat my fucking ass, babe.”

Oscar lets you call the shots for a second as he feels your body getting ready for a release. You’re a moaning mess as he attacks your nub, your kitty dripping with arousal and his saliva. The suddenly it stops just as you feel the knot forming.

You groan in frustration which makes Oscar chuckle. “What? You didn’t get to cum? Tough shit. See what happens when you be tease all night. I can tease too.” Oscar has a smug look on his face as you roll onto your back and fly a pillow towards him which he dodges.

The towel that was on his waist has since fallen off and his hard cock is standing and looking oh so ready to ruin you but Oscar is deciding to play this tease game with you.

“Uh, just fuck me!” You groan and cross your arms, legs crossed to get some kind of friction. And despite wanting to drag this tease game along, Oscar couldn’t resist you long. He loved how your body ached for him and how impatient you got wanting him.

He smiles at you and climbs in between your legs, dipping his head low to plant kisses on your shoulder then to your neck. Suckling at the skin and sinking his body into yours.

“Too much clothes, nena.” You let him pull you shirt over your head but he grasps it tightly around your wrists. He uses one of his hands as extra restraint to keep your arms pinned above you.

He pulls your underwear off your legs and wastes no time to push his member into your aching pussy. The gasp from you only adds to his neediness for a release. You’re beginning to squirm under him. You want to dig your nails into his skin and mark him up.

Oscar moves his hips slowly at first and at an angle, hitting the spot that sends a tingle through your entire body. Then his pace picks up and your skins are slapping together. “Fuuuuck, pussy so fuckin’ good.” 

He is melting right into you, pace quick like a piston. You’re panting as he penetrates deeper with every thrust. You begin to squeeze your muscles when he fills you to the hilt.

You look at him and try to break from his grasp but he only holds you down tighter. He brings his hand between your bodies and begins to rub your throbbing clit, adding to the pleasure and nearly tipping you over the edge. This fuels you, “I wanna ride.”

He smirks and releases his hold on your wrists. You quickly shake off your top that he left to bond your wrists together quickly and you push him off you. He falls to your side and you pull your bandeau off, letting your breast bounce out.

You climb on top and reach back to guide his cock enough to let you sink back on it. Now bringing your hands to plant on his chest, you hips begin to move in circular motions then you start to bounce, the feeling so good, your creamy arousal is running down his shaft.

“I ain’t lasting long like this.”

“Me either.”

Your head falls back and you move your hips front to back, side to side on top him. The pace faster and faster as each second goes by. Oscar sees how into it you are. He takes the opportunity to overtake you.

He pushes his knees up to hit your ass and causes you to be taken by surprise and fall over forward onto his chest. His arms wind behind you to pin you down when his hips buck up at a mind blowing pace. His cock ramming up into you. Oscar is beginning to moan louder.

You bite his shoulder to suppress the overwhelming feeling that is soon to explode in you. The knot forming to breaking as you orgasm, “Fuck,papi, Keep going, cum inside me.”

“You know I will, I’m gonna fill you up, put a baby in you.”

Oscar grips you tighter and groans loudly as his hot seed spurts in you, his thrust not stopping and his cum beginning to drip down his shaft and onto his balls. You are withering mess now. His pace finally slowing down.

You’re unable to move, your skins glued together by sweat and lust.

“Jesus, babe.” You finally muster the energy to fall off him, you’re both laying there trying to catch your breaths. He only laughs and brings his hand to cup your mound, rubbing your clit to tease you. Your legs automatically close at the sensitivity

He keeps his hand there, “What are you doing down there?”

“Making sure my cum stays inside, I told you I’m giving you a baby and I meant it, bebecita.”

[ehstarwar]

to die upon a kiss (1/1)

“Thank you… for taking care of me,” She says, but it comes out as a whisper.

“I like taking care of you. I hope you’ll let me do it more often,” He says.

-

Continuation of my twitfic of the same name.

-

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1.1K

Read on AO3

A/N: hi friends! this is The Smut™ of my twitfic/textfic that can be found here! enjoy (｡♥‿♥｡)

-

Instead of sweeping the counter off and taking her right there in the middle of their kitchen (as Rey had hoped), Ben tends to her wound.

“It really doesn’t hurt, Ben,” She chides for the 100th time. His eyes remain focused on the task at hand.

“I don’t want it to get infected,” He says, wrapping a tan bandage around her finger. When he’s satisfied with his work, he brings her finger up to his lips and places a lingering kiss there. She smiles sweetly up at him, cheeks reddening.

“Thank you… for taking care of me,” She says, but it comes out as a whisper. Ben hums contentedly against the finger he’s still holding there.

“I like taking care of you. I hope you’ll let me do it more often,” He says.

They stay like that for a moment, just looking at each other, before Rey remembers the food.

“Oh, right! I got you the veggie burger with a side salad. Dressing on the side because I know you like to use that vegan one. And I told Maz to put extra guac on the burger because I saw the avocados she’s using and they’re literally perfection, and I know how you like…” Rey trails off when she feels him come up behind her. Ben wraps his arms around her waist, chest flushed with her back, and pressing kisses to the side of her face.

It’s… distracting.

“And I, um, got a big cookie for- oh… us to share… later- if you want-” Rey stops talking when Ben teases the spot behind her ear with his teeth. If it weren’t for him holding her against the counter, she’d have surly melted into a puddle by now.

“I think… the food… can wait,” Ben says between kisses on her neck. Her hands reach behind her and grab at his hair, before he spins her around and sets her on the counter. Ben immediately steps between her open legs and lunges for her mouth.

The kisses they’ve shared have been nice and warm in their own way, but this kiss? This kiss is hot. Rey fist his shirt as his hands go to her hips, holding her down as he slightly grinds against her.

“… wanted you for so long, baby…. Need you… need to be inside of you…” The usual eloquent speech pattern Ben prides himself for having, is no where to be found. Rey’s verbal abilities are reduced to moans and ‘yes’, ‘right there’, and ‘Ben.’

Without warning, Ben hauls her up in his arms and begins stalking towards his room. Their mouths never leave each others skin for long, and suddenly Ben deposits Rey on his bed. He stands back for a moment, observing Rey being dwarfed by his king-sided mattress. Rey takes this opportunity to look at him, flushed and disheveled and perfect, and her jaw opens by its own accord when she sees the like of his cock straining his pants.

When her eyes finally make their way back up to meet his, there’s something feral about his expression. She melts.

Ben quickly begins pulling off his clothing, so Rey follows suit, glad that she is able to rid herself of what is now known as The Disaster Dress™. She goes to take off her bra, but Ben has his lips on hers again and is pushing her back against the headboard before she has the chance.

“Do you have… any idea… how often I pictured you… in this exact position? How much I wanted to… come home… and have you waiting… with you fingers in your cunt… and you ass in the air… for me?” Rey can’t help the truly pathetic sound that escapes her body at the mental image.

“I love you… so much… and I’ll get to do that… one day… and fuck… you’re so perfect, Rey… so good for me…”

Ben’s deft hands have now rid her of her bra and underwear, so she’s laying bare under him, feeling the way his cock jerks towards her in his boxers. She claws at them, trying in vain to get them off before he joins her to help. When he’s rid of the rest of his clothing, Ben kisses her shoulder as he slots himself between her legs. The first brush of his head against her folds has Rey jerking her hips to get closer to him.

They don’t need foreplay; that much is clear. They’ll just consider the entirety of their friendship foreplay and get right to the fucking now.

“You’re sure, Rey? This is okay?” The desperation in his voice is loud and clear and Rey is sure that if she had the ability to speak, she’d sound similar. Instead, she just nods fervently against him and kisses him deeper.

Ben sinks into her with no resistance, going slowly for both of their benefit. Rey keens at the sensation of being so perfectly filled, and Ben’s head drops to the side of hers.

“Rey… baby… I’m not… I’m not gonna last long. You… you’re so perfect and tight… fuck, Rey. Love you so much…”

His words are a balm to a wound Rey didn’t know she was walking around with. It ignites a fire in her that makes her clench involuntarily. Ben groans against her skin.

He starts moving slowly, letting their bodies get acquainted for a minute before fucking her in earnest. His hips slide against hers, and his chest rubs against her stiff nipples in the most delicious way. Her legs wrap around his waist and hands tangle in his hair as she holds him against her.

“Rey… perfect… beautiful, so beautiful… Love you, Rey… gonna love you forever….”

Her orgasm takes her by surprise, striking her with a hard bolt that makes her arch against him. Her vision whites out as she just holds onto Ben, still ruthlessly pounding into her. It doesn’t take long for him to follow, and the warmth of his come spreads through her core like a heating pad.

He jerks a few more times, pumping all that he can into her, before collapsing on top of Rey, still firmly seated inside of her. His lips lazily come up to meld with hers, kissing lackadaisically without any care for the world outside.

They stay like that until his come cools as it oozes out of her and his weight becomes too much. Ben rolls them over so that she’s resting on his broad chest and his hand is swiping hair out of her eyes. Because she can’t help herself, Rey places sweet kisses on the pecs she spent so long dreaming about.

“So….” Rey says, finally breaking the comfortable silence in their apartment. Ben looks down at her with more love and adoration than she’s ever gotten in her whole life and Rey feels like her heart might just jump out of her chest.

“Does this mean you’ll be my boyfriend?"

-

come say hi on twitter!

[nokomiss]

It’s Sterek ficlet time! I found this mostly-written on my gdocs and finished it up to share with you guys. Enjoy!

don’t leave me tongue tied

Stiles is, for once in his life, minding his own business, hanging out in his room and enjoying a perfectly relaxing sick day when Derek comes climbing in through his window.  Stiles enjoys the sight, as there are some mighty fine angles of Derek Hale on display as he climbs gracefully through a window, but it’s all very unexpected.

 “Hey, you know, there is a door on the house,” Stiles says, gesturing towards his bedroom door.  “Want to try again like a civilized person?”

 “Not now,” Derek says, and he looks -- he looks kind of like a man on his way to the gallows.  

 “Did someone die?” Stiles asks, because Beacon Hills, and Derek shakes his head.  

 Stiles manages to get out of the blanket cocoon he’s wrapped around himself while doing some quality internetting, albeit with considerably less grace than Derek had displayed with the damn window, and eyes Derek up. “You look like you just saw the grim reaper, dude, what’s up?”

 Derek doesn’t reply. Derek instead pushes Stiles up against the wall, which is…  Well.  Stiles has been here before, and he’s spent a lot of quality alone time thinking about having been here before and what he would do were the situation to arise again and…

 What Stiles does, to his own mortified disappointment, is let out a tiny squeak.

 “Don’t make this into a big deal.” Derek’s face is grim.  His hands, however, are right there on Stiles’ chest, tangled up in Stiles’ loose flannel shirt, and Stiles is pretty sure his heart is beating far too rapidly and Derek is a werewolf and can hear exactly how this is affecting him.

 “Don’t make what---” Stiles begins, in a vain attempt to cover up the sound of his heartbeat, then yelps, “Oh my everloving god!”

 Which, okay, is maybe making a big deal, but Derek just licked him. Total tongue-to-skin contact. Right there, on the side of Stiles’s neck, and Stiles always thought the term weak-kneed was something made-up, but nope, Stiles is very lucky he’s crammed between the wall and Derek Hale because otherwise he might melt into a puddle of teenage lust on the floor.

 “Got it,” Derek says after a moment, and Stiles is pretty sure that his voice is just a teensy bit unsteady, and then steps back.  He pulls out his phone and actually texts someone, which is almost more unbelievable than the fact that he just got fresh with Stiles’ neck.

“Got what?” Stiles asks, trying and failing to resist the urge to wipe at the damp spot on his neck. He’s leaning back against the wall, his mind whirling. A lot has happened in the last twenty seconds. A lot.

 Derek Hale freaking licked him, for instance.

 “There’s an… incident happening at the high school,” Derek says, which isn’t any sort of answer at all. “Involving another Stiles. I had to make sure you were… you.”

 “By licking me,” Stiles says blankly. “There are other methods. Don’t you have a super-nose?  Or, I don’t know, you could have asked me if I was from an alternate reality… Wait. Is the other Stiles from an alternate reality? Can I meet him?”

 It was the coolest thing he could think of. To think, he’d been hanging at home watching Netflix while his own evil twin made his appearance.  Stiles has the worst luck.

 His hand flutters of its own accord to his neck, as if to remind him that in fact, his luck sometimes was pretty spectacular.

 “No,” Derek says shortly. His eyes were tracking the path of Stiles’ hand, which made him very self-conscious as he let it drift back down to his side. “And.. Lydia thinks she found the portal, and it leaves a distinct… taste. To anyone who uses it. That’s not detectable by scent.”

 Derek was not normally this choppy.  Stiles grins.

 “So you volunteered for Mission: Lick Stiles,” Stiles says. He feels giddy, like it’s Christmas morning and he just found everything he’s dreamt of under the tree. He’s going to get to make fun of Derek for years over this. Possibly for a lifetime. He grins widely, and Derek clearly wants to facepalm.

 “There was a coin toss over which wolf got which Stiles,” Derek mutters.  “Scott got the more suspicious Stiles.”

 “What has he been doing?” Stiles asks, mind whirling with all the things he personally would chose to do were he suddenly in an alternate dimension, and then he realizes exactly why it’s been labeled an ‘incident’ and not a ‘super fun cool thing.’ “Wait, how did you guys realize that it was an alternate Stiles? We aren’t the X-Men.”

 “You probably won’t want to show your face at school again,” Derek says. “Possibly ever. And after the first few hours, apparently, it was obvious that you weren’t you.”

 There’s an actual smile playing at the corners of his mouth, and Stiles sinks down onto his bed, giddiness evaporating.  “That bad?”

 “That bad,” Derek confirms.  

 “Ugh,” Stiles says, then digs a sharpie out of his desk drawer. He write “REAL STILES!!!” on the back of his hand, and says, “Well, come on. Let’s go fight fire with fire.”

 The Jeep was missing when he went outside, and Stiles stares, mouth agape, before turning to Derek and saying, “The gall. The absolute gall of this doppelganger.”

 “Terrible,” Derek agrees, and Stiles finds that he appreciates Derek’s low-key assholery.  Stiles  climbs into the passenger seat of the Camaro begrudgingly, even though it is a gorgeous car that purrs like a lion and also affords plenty of leg room. Stiles is just bitter that some Other Stiles drove his precious baby.

 “I’m going to kick my own ass so hard,” he mutters, and it causes Derek Hale to give a little laugh, so Stiles is slightly less bitter. “Does my evil twin have a moustache? Wear a lot of black?”

 “I didn’t actually meet him,” Derek says, “but I’m given to understand that he’s very similar except, you know, unbound by the consequences of his actions.”

 “The fucker,” Stiles grumbles, still jealous. Then a thought occurred to him. “The portal-taste. It would be all over Evil Stiles’ skin, right? So why’d you pick my neck?”

 Derek doesn’t answer, and Stiles thinks that his (perfect) cheeks definitely heat up a little.  

 An evil twin and blackmail fuel for Derek Hale. Today is fucking awesome.

 By the time they get to the school, Lydia’s already sweet-talked Alternate Stiles into a portal, and Stiles is absolutely brimming with disappointment. “What if he was from the darkest timeline? What if he knew really cool things? Guys, I can’t believe you didn’t let me meet myself!”

 “One of you is enough,” Derek mutters. Stiles smiles brightly at him and loves how uncomfortable it obviously makes him.

 “Derek’s just sad he doesn’t get to lick another Stiles,” Stiles announces grandly.  The expression on Derek’s face is almost worth not getting to meet Alternate Stiles.

 No one tells him what happened at the school, not even when Stiles offers some pretty stellar bribes, so Stiles plays hooky the next day in a probably futile attempt at damage control.

 And if sometimes he does something outlandish and then invites Derek to make sure he’s from the right reality… well. Who could blame him?

[captain-swan-coffee]

Caution Hot

When you combine alcohol, date night, and a hot tub it’s bound to make a pretty damn good night.

Hello Oncers! I can’t believe it’s almost Sunday! I’m so hyped for the season finale! I know there has been some controversy about the season seven renewal, but I for one am excited for what the future hold. I know that this incredible fandom will always be here and I for one will still be writing fic and so will many others! This fandom will stay alive in the stories we continue to tell. I hope you enjoy this new addition to my Captain Swan Coffee collection of one shots. This is dedicated to @deathbycaptainswan for her birthday! Go find her on tumblr and give her some love! I hope you have the best day my fellow Oncer! Eat cake and be merry!

Rated M

Read more of my work here or here!

“A hot tub? That was the name the inventor came up with? Seriously, how original,” Killian mocked staring at the large pool of water that was currently steaming on the backside of their long wrap around porch. Emma wanted to get a pool but they didn’t have enough room in their yard to fit one, so a spa was kind of a compromise. Henry was the one that gave Emma the idea. For weeks he was begging her to buy one convinced that it would make “guys night” with his friends that much cooler.

“I know the name isn’t all that creative but I think you will like it,” Emma insisted, leaning up on her toes to give him a loving kiss to his lips.

“Want to try it out now, Captain?” She smiled, her arms still wrapped around him as little bubbles rose to the surface.

“What the hell. I’ll try anything once,” He shrugged, following his true love back inside and up the stairs to their bedroom. They quickly changed into their suits. Emma wore a new red string bikini that she had a feeling Hook was going to love. Killian slipped on a pair of swim trunks that she had recently bought him that fit him incredibly well. Before now he would just strip down in the nude to swim which was a little more gutsy than Emma felt comfortable with now that Henry living in the house with them. He then slide off his hook and brace before jogging back down the stairs.

“I think I need a drink after the work day I’ve had. Do you want anything babe?” She shouted from the kitchen in very minimal clothing. Today she had to listen to her parents argue over whether or not her brother was going to have a huge royal birthday celebration.

Of course her mother wanted to go all out and invite the entire town to celebrate Neal’s first birthday. But her father on the other hand wanted a small intimate gathering with just family. Emma had no clue what the big deal was. The kid was only one! It wasn’t like he was going to remember any of it anyways! The whole ordeal gave her a massive headache and the only thing that kept her going was the promise of a whole bottle of wine waiting for her in the pantry.

“I wouldn’t mind a rum, love,” She heard him reply as she grabbed them both their drinks and sauntered to the back porch. It was truly a beautiful spring night in Storybrooke. It was warm enough to be outside but cool enough to still enjoy the tub under the stars. It was one of the many things she loved about small town Maine. You could see every constellation in the sky, unlike New York or Boston.

“So do I just get in it?” Killian puzzled looking inquisitively at water.

“Yeah, it’s just like a bathtub, nothing to be afraid of,” Emma laughed, mocking her cautious pirate.

“I’m not afraid, love. Especially of a little water,” He reassured dipping each of his toes in one by one until he settled into the soothing spa. She followed sinking in right beside him. Emma turned around to a panel of controls and pushed a few buttons, turning on the jets. The motion scared Killian so much he practically jumped out of the water. Emma broke out into a hysterical laughing fit almost to the brink of tears.

“Bloody hell! What was that?!” He gasped, attempting to solve the mystery of the powerful stream of water hitting his back.

“Not scared of water, huh?” She smirked, flashing him a saucy smile. Finally a grin formed on Hook’s face after seeing the joy it had brought his Swan.

“They are called jets, Killian. I promise they don’t bite,” Emma giggled, pouring herself a glass of wine.

“I wasn’t scared, they just startled me that’s all,” He remarked sipping on his rum. They used this rare time to catch up and soak up one another’s presence. Killian loved that he finally had his Swan all to himself. He always insisted on weekly date nights, even if it was just watching a movie in their living room or dinner at Granny’s. It was a tradition that she hoped would never die. Killian was lost in his own thoughts when Emma pulled him back to reality.

“So, how was your day? Do anything interesting?” She sighed, breathing in the relaxing spring air letting the warm water melt away all the worries of the world.

“Well, as a matter of fact I did. I took Henry sailing again, but this time he did it completely by himself. He was the captain today and he did a pretty great job if I do say so myself, but he did have a great teacher,” Killian smirked watching the water simmer in the moonlight.

“Thats amazing! I wished I could have seen it,” She replied taking another sip of wine.

“Me too, I missed you terribly today,” He admitted, his cheeks beginning to flush. He didn’t know if it was from the heat or the beautiful woman tucked closely next to him.

“You missed me, huh? Well I have to say I missed you too,” Emma smiled, leaning in, slanting her lips over his. She only intended on giving him a loving peck but she should have known better when it came to Killian. A simple kiss almost never was “simple”. Soon she felt his tongue skim the seam of her lips begging for entrance. Emma granted without a fight. She knew he needed this just as much as she did.

“When will Henry get back from babysitting Neal?” Killian mumbled out between their passionate makeout. His fingers tangled in her golden tresses.

“Not until well after midnight,” Emma moaned as her partner moved to the more sensitive part of her neck, sucking on her pulse point. She knew she would have a mark in the morning but she could bring herself to care. She felt his hand move from her hair down to the back of her neck, slowly pulling the knot undone letting the revealing fabric to reveal even more.

“Killian, we are still in public. We have neighbors, what if they see?” She gasped letting the pleasure envelop her body. He was too tempting to resists. “Oh, fuck it.”

Giving in, Emma let out an audible groan that drove him mad. Killian’s hand traveled down cupping her ass, pulling her onto his lap with ease. She could feel his impressive length teasing her soaked folds through the thin material of her suit.

The tops of Emma’s breasts lightly bouncing above the water was his undoing. They were so perfect, the way they gleamed giving her skin a gorgeous glow. Her suit doing nothing to hide her increased arousal. Her nipples showed through the thin material desperately begging to be touched.

He lowered his head to one of her peaks, tasting the bud. It was a excellent combination of her unique taste and the salty water covering her skin. Killian reached his hand back again to untie the rest of her suit, letting it float in the water without a care. Emma then felt his his fingers snake back to her stomach before slipping his digits through her heat.

“You’re always so wet for me, love,” He growled, his erection now pressing tightly against Emma’s sex. Killian lifted his hips up, while Emma helped him shimmy his trunks down a touch in order to free his manhood from that restricting garment. She gave him a few quick pumps teasing of what’s to come.  They never missed a beat. Reading each others body, wants, and needs just became second nature. He returned to the heat between her legs. She was lush and slick, his fingertips sliding over her. She felt the anticipation building. He circled her tender nub a few times before pushing aside the fabric covering her sex just enough to line himself up at her entrance. Emma moaned at the intrusion, stretching and burning all in the best ways. Her walls expanding to make room for him. She loved the feeling of being completely full. The drag of her slick canal had Killian almost coming on the spot.

She set a punishing pace, driving herself down on him, her lips never leaving his. The hot water splashed all around them. Some even spilled onto the deck, but there was more important things at hand. He could feel her shudder when he thrusted up into her causing a rippling affect of pleasure throughout both of their bodies. Their twin moans mingled in the night sky.

“Fuck Killian, I’m so close,” Emma swore, her breasts locked tightly against his gorgeous forest of untamed chest hair. He dipped his hand back into her bottoms finding her oversensitive clit. Swiping his fingers only twice before he had her coming on his cock. Falling over the edge as pleasure washed over her in waves, but Emma never stopped her ministrations wanting to take him over the cliff with her. It didn’t take long for her partner to follow her. Hot bursts shot up into her, coating her walls as she milked him dry of every last drop.

“You know I think this whole hot tub idea is starting grow on me. I could get used to using it every night,” Killian teased, resting his forehead on hers while they both caught their breaths.

“Wow, every night? Someone’s feeling a bit optimistic,” She giggled smoothing her hands over his biceps.

“Well, you do know that I like a challenge,” He remarked, giving her a cheeky smile.

“Speaking of challenges, would you mind tying my top back up?” Emma asked attempting to push her wet hair off her neck.

“I’m usually better at taking things off instead of putting them back on,” Killian sassed, displaying his one good hand. Before she had the chance to argue back the door to the back porch opened. And there stood Henry who was home a little early from babysitting his uncle.

“Hey is it okay if I invite Violet over tomorrow to use the hot tub?” Henry question looking down at his phone. Emma was completely mortified. The only thing covering her modesty was the tub jets that made seeing through the water difficult but not impossible. Instead of panicking she decided to play it cool and with the look in Killian’s eyes she knew they were on the same page.

“Yeah that should be fine as long as one of us are here,” Emma responded her face and neck red from embarrassment.

“Oh and thanks for taking me sailing today, Killian. I had a great time,” He smiled looking up from his phone. He was wondering why the both of them seemed a little on edge until he saw a red bikini top float from behind Killian. It took him mere seconds to put the pieces together. There was a shared awkward moment between all of them before Killian broke the silence.

“Oh, you see that broke and I was just helping your mother fix it,” He mumbled scratching behind his ear. A nervous tick that he seemed to pick up over the years.

“Okay gross, I’m just gonna go to bed, goodnight,” Henry muttered, booking it up the stairs as fast as he could.

“Broken? Seriously that’s the story you decided to go with?” Emma giggled hysterically reaching for her top that was still floating in the water.

“It was the first thing that came to mind, don’t poke fun,” He smiled assisting her with pulling her hair back. “But it really is a shame that the hot tub will be occupied tomorrow. I really think I’m starting to like it.”

“Well, the good thing is we have a pretty big tub in our master bathroom that we haven’t tried out yet. Do you think we can recreate this experience?” Emma teased, tying the strings of her suit into a bow.

“I think we should most definitely give it a try.”

@teamhook @deathbycaptainswan @kmomof4 @galadriel26 @hook-n-emma @onceuponacaptainswans @asyouwissh @jennjenn615 @captainstudmuffin @captainswansource @captainswanbookclub @sunshine2632 @blowmiakisscolin @dmarien @midnightswans @yourekillianmesoftly @villains-happy-ending @jackieorioncat @lollypopjones @thesschesthair @captainswanluver @buritobaby @golfgirld

As always let me know if you want me to tag or untag you in the future!

[lovelyrhink]

no day but today

the heart may freeze, or it can burn. the pain will ease, and i can learn. there is no future, there is no past, i live this moment as my last

rhett used to be famous. well, at least before the virus took hold.

the year is 1989, new york city, december 24th, 9pm, eastern standard time. rhett sits in his chilly warehouse apartment plucking out a few sorry chords with numb fingers. he’s grunged up and broken down, and his roommate, gregg, is scavenging the place for loose scraps of paper, posters, and screenplays. the eastern wind is bitterly cold, and heat is not a luxury either of the artists can afford. gregg convinces rhett to stop moping about long enough to fashion a makeshift fire in a large metal tin, and the two gripe to each other about their overdue rent before dumping the embers down into the street with the rest of the tenants on the grimy block. rhett and gregg look out over the city from their metal balcony, desperately ignoring the bleak days ahead. little does rhett know, there’s a skinny, blue-eyed dancer smoking a cigarette on the balcony below him, deciding right then and there that he’s going to make rhett his.

now rhett, just freshly 23, once had a future in music. he was the pretty boy frontman of a relatively popular rock band, and with guitar in hand, he’d croon out grungy ballads to a motley crew of druggies and drinkers at any downtown bar that hosted them. he loved performing and all the activities that came with it - long night drives through the city, smoking, and kissing pretty girls with beer-tinged tongues. however, during one show, more than a year ago now, he spotted a girl unlike any he’d ever seen, with a dangerous mischief in her eyes that had him captured by her every whim. they had a fast, sexy relationship that had them both running on the high of rock and roll and other drugs, and soon, spliffs turned to smack and addiction caught both of them off guard. realization hit both rhett and his girlfriend hard when they were tested and came up HIV-positive. rhett’s girlfriend then slit her wrists in the bathroom and left him to struggle through a year of withdrawal alone.

that’s where he is now, stuck in the middle of waiting to die and waiting to live. he tries to write music, but hasn’t found much inspiration. he and gregg are both broke and constantly unable to pay rent, and avenue A is littered with the ashen remains of people like them. yet, on good days, rhett can find comfort and joy in his friends. gregg is, in every sense, his best friend, but gregg’s friends and ex girlfriend bring a sense of community to their shitty lives. there’s jessie, gregg’s ex, and her new girlfriend, christy, as well as collins, a professor at MIT who was expelled for his theory of actual reality.

on this particular christmas night, rhett meets someone that changes everything. after gregg leaves, he’s planning on going back to stoned sulking when he gets a knock at the door. he turns and yanks open the heavy metal slab, “what’d you forget?” already out his mouth.

“got a light?”

there, standing before him, is the scrawny kid from downstairs. he’s got a pretty, kind of dirty face, and his eyes are bloodshot and bagged, but they’re blue and beautiful all the same. he holds out an unlit candle as he cocks his head playfully. rhett takes a moment to look at him: he’s in a light gray tank top, loose patterned flannel, and ripped black skinny jeans - far too exposed for this weather. his bright smile is daring, though, and he scratches his stubbly jaw as he waits for rhett to respond.

“i know you,” rhett says. the boy smiles wider and lingers in the doorway, swaying a bit. rhett can’t take his eyes off the moonlight in his dark hair. “you’re shivering.”

the boy then invites himself inside and plays a game with rhett as he introduces himself. he asks rhett to light his candle, and rhett does, sparking the wick with a lighter as if he was meant to all his life. as the flame glows orange and steady between them, rhett stares at the stranger as if he were an apparition, suddenly here before him and making the whole world feel different. he grins at him again, and there’s a certain mischief in his smile that reminds rhett of someone else.

“what?” the stranger asks as rhett loses himself in his eyes.

“it’s nothing, your smile reminded me of...”

“i always remind people of... who is he?”

“she died.”

“she?”

“her name was april.”

the boy’s candle goes out again and he says he’s sorry about rhett’s friend. he then quickly moves on and resumes what rhett reads as flirting, taking every opportunity to press into rhett’s space and use the glow of the low flame to throw him dark, lusty eyes. rhett can only blink stupidly, roses in his cheeks, as he plays the boy’s game, sparking his wick over and over. rhett’s completely flustered by the time he’s telling rhett that he’s dropped his stash (”it was pure! is it on the floor?”) and begins crawling around on his hands and knees. 

“they say that i’ve got the best ass below fourteenth street,” he says, peeking over his shoulder, rump in rhett’s face. “is it true?”

rhett can’t help but stare. it’s small and round and perky and utterly spankable. “what?”

“you’re staring again.”

rhett goes hot. “oh no... i mean, you do have a nice...”

the boy with the great ass then chuckles and asks rhett to help him look. as the two of them crawl around looking for powder, rhett learns that he recognizes the kid from the cat scratch club, the night club where he works. rhett remembers seeing him there when he used to go out, they used to tie him up. he was so incredibly sexy there in the lights in skimpy, skin-tight clothes, crawling around and putting his little ass on display for everyone, handcuffs binding his wrists as other dancers twirled around him and rubbed dirty twenty-dollar bills over his ass and crotch. rhett burns at the thought, then realizes he doesn’t look any less seductive now, talking to him in his apartment and prowling his floor, albeit dressed down. he also teases the kid about his age (”you look like you’re sixteen,” “i’m nineteen!”) and his signs of addiction. when rhett finally finds the little baggie of dreams that fucked up his whole life, he hides it in his back pocket and continues to melt under his neighbor’s clever tricks, feigning innocence. though he’s not yet twenty, the dancer sure knows his stuff, and he guides rhett back down on the couch and nearly sits on him, curls his fingers around rhett’s hands and tells him they’re big like his father’s, and flicks his druggie eyes at rhett’s lips so many times that rhett can’t help but lick them, wanting to put his tongue in the boy’s mouth. he doesn’t, though. the kid just asks him to dance, then circles him and takes his stash from rhett’s back pocket. he flicks it in front of his face, says, “they call me link,” and leaves rhett’s apartment with a sway of his hips.

fortunately, that isn’t the last time rhett sees him. in the morning, when collins brings home a new friend - angel - rhett sees that link has written, “xmas brunch, just us? - link” in the frost on the window. gregg, angel, and collins all tease him about it and ask him if he’s going, but rhett’s heart is closed. though he felt more than he’s felt in a long time the moment link asked him to light his candle, he’s still jaded.

hurting and disappointed in himself, rhett pushes up onto the roof of their apartment building and looks out over the city. all the gray and brown squares against the smoky horizon will be here long after he is, though it’s not a thought he’s unfamiliar with. he is a single working cog in the city’s machine, but his body is failing to function, and with it, takes his heart. he puts his hands on the cold stone railing, empty sigh on the city breeze. how can he love again when he’s dying? when he’s coming off a year of addiction? how can he let someone in when the wounds of april’s suicide still burn? and while link brings moonlight in his hair, he also brings memories of being a young junkie, shivering and sweaty and eager for a fix, and rhett’s not looking to go back. this idea of link - whatever he stands for, sex, romance, adventure - it’s all too much, and rhett can’t bear to try. he can barely find the music inside him, how can he let love bloom where there’s only pain? rhett struggles to find glory, to write one last song before he goes. if he can’t even make the most of his last moments on his own, how on earth can he enjoy time with someone else? the truth is, he can’t, even if he did enjoy their strange little encounter, even if he wants so badly to take whatever those blue eyes are offering him, to hold that skinny boy in his arms and make him forget pain. fear is, to put it plainly, a ferocious thing. and as a new yorker, fear is rhett’s life.

it’s late christmas night, rhett all alone in the apartment, just him and his guitar, when link barges in once again. this time, he sneaks up the balcony and breathes hot steam on the icy windows. rhett goes warm at the sight, but something within him fights back. link unhinges the window, dark eyes on rhett all the while, and crawls through. tonight, he’s apparently just gotten off a shift at the club, because there’s a smudge of silver-purple shadow over his lids and a soft pink gloss on his lips. he’s wearing a tight black shirt atop a mesh layer, and his pants are charcoal, tight, fake leather. his hair’s a mess, no doubt from a few handsy customers, and his body moves in a way that makes rhett think he’s still working. he saunters towards rhett, that unplaceable mischief still on his lips, as he crawls up on the table, takes powder from his pocket, and pulls rhett in for a kiss. his lips are warm and sticky with gloss, and in the slight swivel of his head, rhett feels the barest hint of tongue peek through. rhett wants to melt, he wants to lay him back on the table and take it all, but his heart resists. he pulls back, angry, and screams at him. he says how dare you come to me now? how dare you ask this of me? you act as if you know the answer, but tell me, if you’re so wise, then why do you need smack? take your needle, take your fancy prayer, and don’t forget, get the moonlight out of your hair. long ago, you might have lit up my heart, but the fire’s dead, and it ain’t ever gonna start.

rhett can’t admit that he’s scared of trying when he has no time left. he can’t tell those sad blue eyes that while they’d do another dance, heat at the seam of their bodies, he just... can’t. there’s too much pain there. too much fear. so he turns his back on link (he can’t bear those unsmiling lips) and tells him to get out. link is stubborn, though, and fights back. 

what are you afraid of? he says. why won’t you take your chances? there’s only us, there’s only this, forget regret, or life is yours to miss. the heart may freeze, or it can burn. i can be your fire. please.

“another day,” rhett says. “come back another day.”

“no day but today.” link’s voice is firm and pleading. let me love you.

but rhett doesn’t let him. he keeps yelling at him until link’s all the way down the stairs and back out on the street. he’s a lone piano key against the gray stretch of road, and looks up at rhett’s balcony, tears in his eyes. although he hates himself for it, rhett leaves him there in the cold and doesn’t look back. he doesn’t see gregg, collins, and angel coming up the street, or the way link hugs angel as if he’s just had his heart broken. perhaps he has.

rhett can’t sleep that night, though he never can. he knows he’d made the wrong decision the moment he pulled back from link’s lips, but it’s too late now. he tosses and turns all night thinking of link’s eyes, eyes that he can’t get out of his head, and by morning, gregg has had enough. he convinces rhett to go and do something about it, chase the love he deserves, and rhett bucks up enough to agree. later that night, gregg’s ex, jessie, is hosting a protest performance in an empty lot, and on the way there, rhett finds link buying from his old dealer. he can’t stand the thought of such a young beauty wrecking himself the way he did, so he says hello, hoping to guide link away. his dealer curses him for stealing his client, and rhett snaps. he pushes him back with two hands on his chest, hard, and says, “you didn’t miss me, you won’t miss him,” and leads link away.

“i’m sorry about last night,” rhett confesses. “i was out of line. can i make it up to you?”

link plays coy and hesitant but there’s still hope in his smile. “how?”

“a bunch of us are getting together tonight after jessie’s show.”

“and?”

“would you like to go with me?” it’s the most forward rhett’s been since april, but he knows he has to take a chance. he doesn’t know if he’ll wake tomorrow, and he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he never allowed himself to love again.

“yeah.” link’s eyes dart from rhett’s face to the bums shuffling about the graffitied lot. “i’d like that.”

rhett smiles and they begin walking together, falling into step as if they had been all their lives. link’s tall, but not as tall as rhett, and he fits so perfectly beside him that rhett can’t keep his eyes off the beautiful angle of his face and jaw. link nudges him playfully and puts up his fists. “so you’re a tough guy, huh?”

rhett goes bashful and grins like he used to, the two of them weaving through the crowd in search of their friends. the place is packed, swatches of brown and beige winter coats shoved together in a sea of bodies, jessie’s stage at the front, glittering with wires and equipment. she arrives on a motorcycle to thunderous screams, scrambles up onto the stage, and flips her long dark hair out of her helmet beneath the golden lights. christy’s up high, shining a spotlight down on her, no doubt glowing with pride.

jessie’s show is incredible because jessie herself is incredible. rhett understands why gregg was and is still so in love with her, and christy too. she’s a powerhouse, singing and dancing and dragging all the big-wig three-piece-suits to hell with little empathy. she inspires the crowd so much, actually, that a riot breaks out, and rhett, link, collins, and angel dip before they get hurt. gregg stays behind, filming.

later, along with jessie and christy, the four of them wait inside the cafe for gregg. he arrives just before they get a table and tells them that someone bought his footage of the riot. they celebrate by moving the cafe tables together to form one long banquet and drinking wine and beer until their sleepless eyes grow fuzzy from booze and smoke. rhett gets so caught up, however, that he seems to forget link. link approaches him as he fiddles with the guitar at the cafe stage and asks him why he’s being ignored if he was invited.

rhett tells him he’s sorry, he’s trying. a beeping interrupts them and link takes a tin from his pocket. “AZT break,” he says meekly.

that’s when rhett knows. he knows that link is so brash and risky because he doesn’t have much time left, either. no day but today means today is all we have, for the both of us, so let’s make the most of it. they’re both battling the same virus, and rhett’s suddenly not the only one afraid. it breaks and mends rhett’s heart at the same time, and then and there amidst the busy hum of the live cafe, he feels more for the dancer than he did when he was shivering with an unlit candle in his apartment two nights before. he realizes they’re in this together, that while they’re both crumbling from the inside out, they’re allowed to fall in love and fuck freely because they share their darkest trait. 

“you?” rhett asks quietly, almost inaudible beneath angel’s bubbly laughter. 

“me. you?”

“link...”

link says nothing as he guides them outside and into the snowy alleyway. he looks so small and fragile beneath his sweater, and rhett wants to put his hands on his skin if only to heal him. he knows he can’t, though, so he pushes his hands into his pockets and lets the brisk winter wind keep his chapped lips far from link’s face, far from doing something stupid.

they walk together in the snow, slowly, shoulders brushing. snowflakes fall around them, onto their shoulders and into their hair, and when rhett looks at link, he can see the faintest frost on his dark eyelashes. link sighs, breath just steam on the wind. “well,” he says, alone with rhett now and vulnerable once again. “here we go.”

“i should tell you -” rhett starts, but he can’t seem to find the words. he doesn’t know where to begin, he doesn’t know how this goes. it’s been so long since he’s opened his heart, and he’s ready to let it burn, ready for link to light it, but he’s still hesitant.

link senses his fear and goes first. “i should tell i blew the candle out just to get back in.” 

it makes rhett brave. “i’d forgotten how to smile until your candle burned my skin.”

now on equal ground, they stop at the center of the alley and lock eyes. rhett looks down at link, white snowflakes in his dark hair, eyes navy under the night sky. he looks young and fresh and beautiful and pure, not the druggie stripper kid he is on paper. his lips are pink and slightly dry and the snowflakes on his lashes haven’t get fallen away. he is truly magnificent, looking up at rhett, and when his hands find rhett’s hips and pull him close, rhett soaks up his warmth and forgets, just for a moment, that they’re both dying.

they kiss, and it’s beautiful. link tugs rhett down into him and rhett accepts, letting himself free fall into whatever adventure link brings him. they keep it short and sweet, though rhett is hot and aching for more, and dip back inside the cafe before anyone knows they left at all. the moment they get inside, however, they brush the snow off each other’s shoulders and hair, and link wraps his arms around rhett’s neck and goes in for another kiss in the process. this time, they linger, soft lips and wet tongues and bodies pressed close, losing themselves in time and heat, and suddenly pull apart to the sound of applause.

their friends are cheering for them, and rhett has never been so happy. the whole bunch of them then celebrate once more, though this time for more than jessie’s show. they celebrate life, the bohemian life, to be exact, and boost each other up both in spirit and to dance on the tables and bar. they cheer for those who can’t, who’ve been lost to aids or suicide or frost or accidents or hate. they sing for dykes and homos and trannies and fags, taking those bitter slurs and making them their own, wearing their tender hearts proudly. they dance for artists and writers and anyone else who creates, to famous poets and kinky lovers and everyone outside the mainstream. collins smokes up the cafe as he honors marijuana, and angel shimmies her hips for all the fashion-forward divas making dresses out of trash bags. they drink for bums, for students, and for single mothers, they kiss and make love in the glory of sodomy, dildos, and anything taboo. they understand the importance of culture and activism and diversity, and each of them fights for a better world. actual reality - stand up, fight aids! the opposite of war isn’t peace, it’s creation, and all rhett’s friends and comrades remind him every day that it’s not too late to wield his weapon and make a masterpiece of his life.

in the week between christmas and new years, rhett falls deeper in love with link every day. they spend hours together just kissing and smoking and talking, and by new year’s eve, they’ve confessed to each other that death is the one thing they’re afraid of and the one thing they can’t wait for. and this time, to celebrate 1990, rhett, his boy, and their friends wander times square, drunk and high off their asses, and he has never felt so alive. that is, until they come home and realize their apartments have been padlocked. such is life for them - they love and they love and they find joy in anything they can, and still, something comes along to knock them down. but rhett isn’t afraid. he’s got link by his side, and he’s ready to face anything.

well, that is until he learns link had a fling with gregg’s old roommate and their current landlord, benny. he knows it happened before they met, but something bugs him about it that he can’t shake. benny is, in every way, better than him. he’s more successful, rich, clean, and... not dying. it’s hard not to compare, and while it puts a strain between them, they push on like stubborn lovers do. 

link is everything for rhett, he’s the light that guides him home and the ground beneath his feet. it’s not been very long, but they also don’t know how many days they’ll really have, so they take it for all they’ve got. and god, what a beautiful thing that is. not only are the kisses mind-blowing and every touch fire, but the sex is out of this world. rhett knows the dangers of sex, especially with men, and while they’re honest and open with each other about safety and protection, they’re still horny bastards in every sense. they fuck so good, so hot and wet and rough, that gregg sometimes doesn’t see rhett for days on end because he’s downstairs in link’s apartment, spending day after day wrecking link’s body and getting wrecked in return. it’s a give and take, push and pull, and everything is wonderful, albeit oftentimes tense.

when christy and jessie get engaged, link spends the majority of the reception in rhett’s lap, champagne in one hand, the other in his shaggy hair. he kisses him silly and pulls off for a moment to toast the happy couple, then goes back to shoving his tongue down rhett’s throat. and rhett, well... he doesn’t mind at all.

the next few months pass blissfully and... painfully. rhett and link, while completely smitten with each other, haven’t yet said i love you, and the nature of their sorry living situation has them struggling to pay rent and feeling good in their own skin. link also falls deeper into his addiction as time goes on, and rhett can’t bear to watch. he spends all day in his bed with his powder and his needle, and rarely do his eyes light up the way they used to. he begins to sweat and shiver even more than that first night, and rhett tries his best not to give in. he tells link that he’s there for him, but that he has to fight on his own as much as he can. rhett has felt everything link’s going through, but it doesn’t make it any easier. although link goes to rehab, withdrawal hits hard, and rhett often finds him curled up in a ball in the tub, skinnier than ever, damp with sweat and trembling. his pale skin goes paler, his deep-sunken eyes go darker, and he doesn’t glow like he used to. when he breaks his rehabilitation, rhett sometimes finds him in the alley with his old dealer, buying again with the few scraps of money he earns from the club. he can barely stand it, watching link kill himself like this, and it gets to the point that rhett will shake him, snatch the drugs from his hands himself and throw them in the street. one day, after link tries and fails to be better, after the fire that once bloomed between them fizzles under the weight of addiction, rhett leaves him and doesn’t look back.

rhett knows that he can’t live without link, but link can’t live without drugs, though they’re killing him more every day. it’s a situation he can’t stand to be in again, he can’t watch someone else he loves die, even if its inevitable. without link, he trudges on, feeling worse than he did before they’d even met. he and gregg fight too, over work, over passion, and rhett doesn’t think he can hurt any more. that is until he finds out link’s back with benjamin. then, as if he hasn’t suffered enough, angel dies.

angel. the only good one out of the seven of them. gone. 

his funeral is on halloween, and everyone is forced to see each other again. christy and jessie, who broke up shortly after their engagement, awkwardly make eyes from the pews, and rhett tries desperately not to look at link and benny from his place beside gregg. all of them watch, quiet, as collins bids his lover goodbye, saying he will always cover him in one thousand kisses, in this life and the next.

as rhett trudges through the cemetery, remains of their broken family behind him, link steps up beside him and asks if it’s true that he sold his guitar and bought a car. “i’m leaving now for santa fe,” rhett says, ready to be gone, eager to live out angel’s last wish for him. this sparks a painful goodbye between all of them, one last fight between couples. christy and link accuse jessie and rhett of not committing, and rhett tells link he needs to learn to love himself before he can love anybody else. collins, heartbroken beyond belief, finally silences them. 

“you’d all said you’d be cool today,” he says. “i can’t believe he’s gone.” he looks to rhett. “i can’t believe you’re going. i can’t believe this family must die. angel helped us believe in love. i can’t believe you disagree. i can’t believe this is goodbye.”

rhett takes a deep breath, so deep it hurts, and looks at link. his eyes are big and wet and sorry, and as rhett turns to leave him behind once again, he misses link’s quiet voice calling to him. goodbye, love. 

santa fe is the change rhett needs, and he spends his days writing and playing music in a city that isn’t tinged by disease. all the same, he sees link everywhere - in the streets, in his bed, on the subway - beautiful and healthy, a blue flower in his hair to match his eyes. he misses him so much he can’t breathe, so he takes a train back as soon as he can, finishing his song messily in blue and black ink on the ride there.

when he returns, link has disappeared. he fell out of rehab and, according to benny, started using again. gregg, rhett, collins, jessie, and christy reconcile before putting fliers up around the city in search of their lost friend. no luck. soon, fall turns to winter, and the five of them know a skinny thing like link won’t be able to survive - it’s getting cold out there. 

then it’s christmas again. rhett and gregg are back in their warehouse apartment, and the city resumes its bustling frenzy, gray graffiti streets and fires in metal tubs reminding the two of them of how it was just one year prior, when everything was different. collins arrives on time and asks gregg to throw down the key. the three of them celebrate with a quick drink, toasting to angel in heaven and better days ahead, when they hear jessie scream from the street. “gregg! rhett! somebody, anybody, help!”

it’s just a moment before the men are out on the balcony, looking down. someone is sandwiched between jessie and christy, limp and lifeless. rhett’s heart stops. link.

“we can’t get him up the stairs!”

everything is a blur of pain and hope and terror and pain again as they bring link home and lay him on the kitchen table with a blanket and pillow. he’s trembling and weak, coughing through pale, cracked lips. christy tells them they found him on the street, nearly frozen to death. rhett doesn’t know what to do but hover over him, willing his body heat to seep down and heal him. he hopes link can sense him.

“link...” he calls. “link, i’m here.”

“rhett?” he’s almost gone, but not yet. not yet.

rhett’s eyes are blurry with tears. “yes, baby, it’s me.”

“i should tell you...”

rhett pets his head and holds his face in his hands. “no, link, come on-”

“i love y...” but link drifts off, turning his face to cough. rhett has no time left. he has to say it now. 

“who do you think you are?” he whispers. “leaving me alone with my guitar. hold on, there’s something you should hear. it isn’t much, but it took all year.”

with the last of link’s reality slipping away, rhett begins to sing. he sings the song he couldn’t find last christmas, the song only link could pull from him. as his muse lays dying, rhett struggles to get the long-awaited lyrics out. 

your eyes, he sings. as we said our goodbyes. can’t get them out of my mind, and i find i can’t hide from your eyes. the ones that took me by surprise the night you came into my life. where there’s moonlight, i see your eyes. how’d i let you slip away, when i’m longing so to hold you? now i’d die for one more day, cuz there’s something i should have told you. yes, there’s something i should have told you. when i looked into your eyes - why does distance make us wise? you were the song all along. and before the song dies...

link goes limp.

i should tell you, i should tell you... i have always loved you. 

rhett’s crying now.

you can see it in my eyes.

but link’s already gone. rhett picks him up and holds him to his chest, sobbing his name, his friends gathered around them. rhett rocks the body in his arms, then lays him back down gently. he turns away. if his heart was broken before, it’s nothing compared to this. this is hell. 

in the moment rhett doesn’t look, the moment he never wished would come, link’s fingers twitch. he shifts on the table slowly, then coughs and sits up. he pushes the blanket off his legs as everyone rushes to his side. link blinks, soaked in sweat, and begins to speak. rhett, jessie, christy, gregg, and collins all hold their breath.

“i was headed towards this warm white light,” link whispers. “and i swear... angel was there. and she looked good.” 

collins gives a watery laugh. link turns to rhett.

“and she said, ‘turn around, boyfriend, and listen to that boy’s song.’”

“you’re drenched,” rhett says, unsure what else he can possibly say in the face of a miracle.

they then kiss, confirmation that they’re human, they’re alive, and the rest of the gang follows suit. gregg, who had been working on a documentary in the year rhett hadn’t found his song, now switches the projector on and lets the colored light dance on the bare apartment walls. angel’s smiling face comes through, as if he’s there with them, and the six of them bless their lives over.

they live in ruins, on the cusp of death, and yet they still find love. the past year has cursed and saved them all at once, but they come out of it knowing exactly how to measure it. you measure a year not in days or months, nor daylight or sunsets or cups of coffee... no, you measure a year in love - 525,600 minutes of nothing but loving and fighting and loving again. 

rhett knows that now. and with his friends and his boy at his hip, the days ahead don’t seem so bad. 

@reedytenors @liinkstar bye

[ehstarwar]

under thy own life’s key (5/7)

They were both mostly silent during the meal, reacting to their friends antics only when prompted. Rey could feel Bens' leg against hers under the table and if she weren’t shoveling food into her mouth, she wouldn’t have been able to resist touching him.

Teasing him, more likely.

-

Ben and Rey engage in a friendly competition to make the day go faster. (And also tease each other until one of them breaks.)

-

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 4K

Read on AO3

Notes: home stretch you guys... this was the hardest chapter to write but also my favorite so far, i think? lemme know what chu think babes. thanks for reading! enjoy (･∀･)

Chapter 5: makes heaven drowsy with the harmony

-

Rey doesn’t feel Ben crawl back into bed that night, but she sure a hell feels him the next morning. He has her in his grasp again, his face buried in her hair and lightly snoring against her neck. His arms hold Rey to his chest, body flush with his and legs shuffled together. 

She also feels him. 

Hot and aching against the cleft of her ass. It takes a minute to realize exactly what she’s feeling, but when the realization crashes over her, her whole body shivers. Rey does her best to turn towards him, eventually having to lift parts of his body to turn fully over. 

“Ben,” She whispers against his neck. Her hands trace the muscles that stretch his shirt in a way that should be illegal. She moves her feet so they rub against his strong calf muscles. 

Ben grumbles something, not opening his eyes, but moving his face down to Rey’s and bumping their noses together. 

“Good morning,” She whispers against his cheek. Ben doesn’t respond, just shifts his face so their lips press together. The kiss is slow and warm, and makes Rey feel better than any kiss ought to. Ben’s hands come around her again, one to hold onto her back and another to kneed the swells of her ass. They make out like that for a good minute, not caring about morning breath or knotty hair, just enjoying the soft intimacy of each other. 

When Reys’ hand trails lower, gently tracing the outline of his morning wood, Bens’ breath hitches. 

“Rey, baby,” His voice is a whine, and that just makes Rey move a little faster. She dips her hand beneath his boxers, finding him so hard that she can only imagine how painful it is. Her hand immodestly goes to work, gliding up and down on his hot skin. Their tongues tangle together, neither of them breaking the kiss for even a moment. She feels Ben clench his muscles wherever she touches him, giving her a rightful sense of power. 

Ben moves his hand to come up from her ass and rub circles on her nipples that are hard and stiff against her sleep shirt. She moans against his mouth, hand moving even faster now. His thumb rubs at one, the calluses evident even over the fabric of her shirt. She wishes he would rip it off like he did to her underwear, toss it far across the room so she could feel his flesh against her.

Ben begins to mumble something against her lips, a warning, she can tell. She just shoves her tongue down his mouth and rubs his head with a little more determination. Ben’s whole body tenses when he comes, cock straining against her hand, overflowing with sticky white come. Ben is breathing so heavy  that Rey works her mouth across his jaw, nipping and licking everywhere let lips land.

His come coats her hand, a little dribbling down onto her thighs and spreading his warmth even further. Rey doesn’t feel the clenching need like she did last night after he came; the need to fall over the edge with him or she was going to die. His orgasm sends a ripple of pleasure though her, but doesn’t claw at her the same way. 

When Ben gets his breath under control, his mouth seeks out Rey’s once more. She still holding him, working out the last possible drop of come into her hands, feeling powerful and satisfied and adored, all in one. 

“REY! BEN! WAKE UP. YOU’LL MISS BREAKFAST!”

Poe’s loud shrill breaks the silence and Rey can’t help but be reminded of last night.

“I’ll kill him,” Ben says. “I will chop his body into tiny pieces and feed him to fish in the lake. I’ll do it.” Ben says with eyes closed. 

“Hux wouldn’t like that very much.”

“Fuck Hux.”

Rey smiles at Ben, watching the way she small stream of sunlight his his hair just right so it looks like a halo. On cue, her stomach rumbles. They both look down at her stomach before looking back up in silent agreement.

“Breakfast, then.” Ben says and Rey nods enthusiastically. “I’ll just… get a towel for you.” Ben gets up and walks into the bathroom quickly.

It dawns on Rey that this is the first time they’ve been sexual in broad daylight, with out the excuse of needing to get off to get to sleep. She doesn’t know why, but it feels like more. Probably because it is more. The made out last night after… everything, and this morning before they even started. Rey tries to think about what this all means, but Ben is back handing her a wet washcloth before her mind can begin to reel. 

She takes it with her clean hand, but when she goes to wipe her other hand, something stops her. She looks down, her palm covered in his now-cool come. She glances down to her thighs, seeing the white blob that landed there earlier still against her tan skin. She feels Ben watching her, so she decided to be bold. 

Rey licks her palm clean; every finger, every crevice, every joint. She sucks off his come before using the rag to clean her of saliva. Ben is still standing at the end of the bed, eyes dark and posture rigid as he watches her.

“I don’t need breakfast.” His words are a growl and Rey is very, very tempted to agree with him.   But another rumble breaks the silence before Rey can say anything, like her body is cockblocking them now.

“I think I do,” She tells him sheepishly. 

-

Breakfast is… an event. To say the least. 

When Ben and Rey finally came up stairs to eat with the rest of their friends, the tension between them had not shifted one bit. It’s like there was a looming force around them, making them move together, reach for the same plate, brush hands whenever possible. They were both mostly silent during the meal, reacting to their friends antics only when prompted. Rey could feel Bens leg against hers under the table and if she weren’t shoveling food into her mouth, she wouldn’t have been able to resist touching him. 

Teasing him, more likely. 

“We have to spend all day outside today, guys. It’s our last day of full sunshine before the storms roll in tonight. If I have to go home without the epic tan I promised my office mates I would have, I’m going to personally send all of you strongly worded messages on insta,” Poe says before popping a blueberry into his mouth. 

“How is that on us?” Kaydel asks, laughing at him. Poe sticks his tongue out at her.

“I don’t have an instagram,” Ben says, slicking up one of the wheat protein pancakes he bought for the trip. The only other person who dared to eat them was Phasma.

“Then I’ll send it to you via raven, Benjamin. Can we all just agree to make the most of today? Pretty please, for the blushing bride?” Poe bats his lashes at everyone and Finn throws a pancake at his face.

While a day lounging in the sun sounds wonderful after the incident yesterday, Rey can’t help but feel a little annoyed. She wants to stay inside. In her room. With her roommate. Preferably making each other come as many times as humanly possible. Maybe they’ll talk about what the hell this is. Maybe they’ll just fuck each other boneless. Rey selflessly prefers the latter.

A shared, exasperated look at Ben tells her that he wants the same thing. 

-

The sun is hot. The drink, once filled with ice, are hot. The damn water is hot. 

But all that heat is nothing compared to what Rey is feeling inside herself. Ben chose the tiniest, most ridiculously short-board shorts, that hug his taut ass just right, show off his perfectly toned long legs, and ride dangerously short on his adonis belt. Rey wants to fucking melt. 

When she’d seen the low blow he pulled when he emerged with that male-equivalent of a thong, she decided pull out the big guns. And by big guns, she means the practically non-existent white bikini that shows off more skin than she’s usually okay with people seeing. 

She thinks the look he gave her when he saw the white fabric bunch up in her ass was enough to get her through the rest of the day relatively smoothly. She was wrong. 

Ben, it seemed, was also up for a challenge. An actual challenge, that is.

“Volleyball?” Rey questions, looking up at him from her sunbathing spot that she’d subtly been flashing her ass towards him. Kaydel, beside her, pipes up.

“Ugh, yes! I haven’t played volleyball since high school!” Jannah, Zorii and Poe seem all equally enthused. Rey wants to slap the smug grin off Bens face. Or kiss it. 

Ben teams up with Zorii, Poe, and Hux (‘the celebrating couple must be on the same team.’) leaving Rey with Jannah, Kaydel, and Phasma. Rose and Finn were ‘taking a bathroom break’ for the last twenty minutes. 

Ben attached the net that he’d pulled out of god knows where at Kaydel gives Rey tips on playing.

“Weren’t you like, a super gym rat in college?” Kaydel asks when Rey eyes the ball with a tenuous expression.

“I run. And swim. On occasion, I enjoy a good barre class. But my hand-eye coordination is virtually nonexistent. I tried playing baseball once and literally gave the umpire a concussion,” She admits.

“Well, there is no bats in volleyball, so just… be careful.” Kaydel gives he a goodnatured pat on the shoulder before walking off to practice serving. Rey turns to glare at Ben, who still has that smug look which Rey can’t decide if it's off-putting or unbelievably sexy.

“You know I don’t have hand-eye coordination to save my life.”

“Yes I do.”

“So you suggested that we play volleyball because you want to see me make an utter fool of myself.”

“No. I suggested we play volleyball because I found a volleyball net in one of the closets. And because I want to see what your ass looks like when you jump in that… bathing suit.” Ben’s eyes rake down her body. Rey suddenly sees the… potential this particular game has.

  Only when the sun skins below the mountain tops that Rey realizes how long they’ve been playing. Well, how long she and Ben have been playing. Everyone slowly bowed out when they realized this competition was between Ben and Rey and that they each had a single minded victory to beat each other. 

“Guys, we need to head in! The bugs will be coming out soon!” Jannah shouts at them. Ben is detracted enough that Reys’ serve to Ben hits him square in the chest before bouncing off into the water. Rey doubles over in laughter, seeing Ben walk towards her with determination. 

“I swear… I didn’t mean…” Rey can barely talk though her laughter as she tries to justify herself. Suddenly, Rey is lifted from the sand, feeling two strong arms hoist her up. Ben carries her back towards the house, steely expression on his face. 

“I think this means I won?” She taunts, poking him in the chest. She’s rewarded with a low mumble that sounds like ‘no’ and ‘you wish’.

He carries her up to the cabin, only setting her down once there outside the door where her friends laughter drifts towards them. 

“Were going to eat dinner,” He says, the same determined expression still on his face. “Then we’re going to bed.”

“Okay,” Rey breaths. He pulls her inside then, practically dragging her to get her food.

“Are, uh, you guys hungry?” Finn asks as Ben load up both of their plates with militant precision. 

“Yes,” Ben replies, stoically. 

“Lots of volleyball. We’re both starved,” She tosses over her shoulder. Ben sits down at the dining room table and begins shoving food into his mouth like it’ll disappear if he doesn’t.

Rey joins her friends on the couch, trying to be a bit more casual than Ben. Who was now staring at her from across the room. She could feel his gaze all over. 

While Ben finished his monstrous plate in record time, Rey was going at a leisurely pace. Taking time to actually chew her food instead of inhale it. Listening to her friends and laughing at the appropriate places. She could physically feel Ben loose his mind. 

A hard screech across the hardwood floors made everyone turn their heads to stare at Ben.

“I’m going to bed,” He announced, eyes fixated on Rey. He stomped around the group and down the stairs, leaving the door open as a clear invitation to her. 

“The fuck in up with Solo?” Zorii asked. 

“Maybe he got sun poisoning. I mean, his thighs were super white. It’s possible he’s never been exposed to this much direct sunlight in his life.”

“He’s not a vampire, Kaydel. Plus, if he is pale enough to get sick by the sun, don’t you think I’d be sicker?” Hux defending Ben was still the cutest thing to Rey, even if she’d never tell him. 

“Well you and Poe spent enough time canoodling in the shade, so I think you’re safe,” Kaydel retorted, causing everyone to laugh. Soon enough, the conversation drifted from Ben’s unusual state and onto other things decidedly less interesting to Rey.

“I’m going to make sure Ben is alright. I’ll… probably be going to bed too.” Rey stands up quickly, suddenly very driven to get down to Ben as fast as humanly possible. 

“Tell Benjamin that I have plenty of Aloe if he needs it. And that ice baths don’t actually help,” Hux calls after her. She just gives him a thumbs up and closes the door to the stair case. 

By the time Rey makes it to their bedroom door, her heart is pounding in her chest. Would this be the night they talked about whatever the hell is going on between them? Would they pretend like they have every other night that this is normal? Or would Ben sweep her off her feet before she had the door opened all the way and make her forget her own name as he fucked her into the next dimension?

There was only one way to find out.

The door squeaks open and Rey finds Ben frowning down at her suitcase and reorganizing her clothes for her. When he hears her open the door, Ben’s head snaps up and his body is coming towards her within an instant. 

His lips find hers in a bruising hold, hands coming up to hold her head as his mouth pushes against hers. 

“You… took… too… long.” Each word is punctuated by a kiss, his mouth not straying far from hers even to speak. He’s still shirtless, still in his abysmally tiny board shorts and Rey can feel his warm skin pressed against hers. She grips at his chest, runs her hands down his back and across his arms, anything just to feel him. 

Bens’ legs are shoved between hers, pressing his thigh against her as he continues his assault on her mouth.

“You just… gonna stay here… and kiss me all night?” She teases him, voice airy and light. Ben works his mouth down her jaw to her throat, chest, stomach, until he bends down and picks her up by the legs. 

“You’ve got to stop picking me up, Ben!” He deposits her on the bed, standing back now, bathed only in the light coming from the bathroom. She can see his erection in his board shorts, so she traces her foot along the length of him. She sees his jaw work and his neck tense and she’s tempted to just stick a hand down her bottoms right there. 

“Rey,” He catches her foot, holding it in his warm hand, “I need you to tell me that you want this. Not to sleep. Not because you’re frustrated. But because you want this.” His eyes are filled with an intensity that she’s been exposed to quite a bit in the last few days. Her prior experiences with it do nothing to quell the nervous butterflies she gets.

“I want this, Ben. I want you.” 

Ben crouches onto the floor, kissing down her leg. He spreads her apart, mouthing at the juncture between her thighs. He gently takes her swim bottoms off her legs and tosses them away, before delving into her pussy. She’s wet, embarrassingly so, but Ben doesn’t seem to mind. His mouth moves against her, pressing kisses against her folds and on her clit. She tangles her hand into his hair, same as last night, as his tongue licks strips up and down.

She’s mewling for him, bucking her hips until his palm comes around to hold her pelvis down. She clutches his hand where it rest on her skin, and his thumb rubs little circles into her. Her orgasm comes much quicker this time, probably a result of being kept on edge for the entire day. She moans his name as her body vibrates with the intensity, legs crushing his head in the process. If Ben minds, he doesn’t mention it.

He soothes her, pressing light kisses up her cunt, nuzzling the brown thatch of hair between her legs, teasing his tongue up her stomach to come circle her nipples. Somehow, Rey had managed to pull off her bikini top (not that there was much to pull), so she was laid gloriously bare before him. 

When her breathing returns to normal, Ben speaks again.

“Every time you’ve come, you fall asleep right after. I don’t intend on letting you do that tonight.” His voice is deep and menacing and Rey thinks she could come just from the vibrations it makes against her skin.

“What do you plan on doing about that, Solo?” She taunts. 

Suddenly, Rey is being hauled further back on the bed, with Ben coming to lay over her. His mouth is sucking at the skin of her neck, no doubt leaving enormous hickey’s that she’ll have to figure out how to cover tomorrow. 

But that’s Tomorrow Reys’ problem. 

Her hand trails down his torso, feeling his shorts are still on, but his cock crying desperately to get out. When Ben feels her hand on him, he quickly sheds the material, coming right back down to kiss Rey again. She tugs him a little, spreading the precome over his cock to lube him up. Not that he needs it, with the way Rey is dripping. 

“I plan on fucking you so well that you forget what sleep is,” He murmurs against her skin. “That you’ll never be able to sleep again without dreaming of my cock. Of me making you come so hard you forget where we are.”

Rey can only mewl at his words, clawing at him and trying to line him up with her. Ben partially obliges, moving his hips between hers, rubbing the thick head of his cock up and down her pussy. Rey tries to move her hips to force him  in her, but Ben is in control at the moment. 

“Please, Ben, please. I need this… I need you, please…”

He pushes into her slowly, like he’s savoring every moment her tight, wet heat envelopes him. He’s big in her hand but somehow feels even larger inside of her. It’s not painful, he prepped her too well for that, but fulfilling in a way that makes her toes curl. Like she was made for this exact moment for Ben to push into her. When he’s fully seated inside of her, Ben rest his forehead against hers. 

“Rey… fuck. You’re so fuckin… fuck, Rey. You’re prefect. Made for me. Just fucking perfect.” Ben is still inside of her. She’s not sure if its for her to adjust, or for him to control himself. Rey peppers kisses along his jaw, watching his eyes clenched shut and breath through gritted teeth. 

“So good, Ben. You’re so good. You feel perfect too, baby. Just for me.” She hope her words calm him, make it easier for him, but the growl that originates from somewhere deep within his bones makes her think otherwise. 

“I just need… a minute. I wanna make this good for you. Wanna make this last.” His lips are against her neck now, breathing hot breath onto her with every word. “Want to fucking live inside of you, baby.”

It’s another minute before Ben can move. Rey just cards her fingers through his hair, marveling at how his black locks can remain so silky even after a full day of sweat. His hand comes up to her jaw, and cups her face so that he can kiss her deeply, tongue going so far down her throat she thinks she might swallow it. 

His hips begin moving at a snails pace; sharp, shallow thrust that make her breath hitch all the same. He forces her thighs even further apart so that he can get deeper within her, nearly bumping her cervix. 

Ben’s thrust get more sure, move faster and harder. His cock brushes against a bundle of nerves that makes Rey see stars behind her eyes. It doesn’t matter if she’s just come a few minutes ago; she’s going to come again and soon. 

“You gonna come around my cock, baby? You gonna come for me?” Ben asks between kisses.  Rey just seeks out his mouth more, wanting every part of her to be connect with him as much as possible. 

Ben sticks a hand by where their bodies meet, rubbing at her over-sensitive, over-stimulated clit, until Rey is a babbling mess. She feels hot tears of desire prick at her eyes as her hand clutches Ben’s head down to hers.

“‘m gonna come, Ben. Please, I need to come,” She whimpers against him. Ben grunts something unintelligible against her lips, but feels his whole body begin to tense up. 

“Gonna come to, Rey. Gonna come in your perfect little cunt. You want that, you want me to fill you up?” Yes, yes, yes. Rey is beyond words at this point so she hopes the sloppy nodding of her head will give him the answer she’s so desperate to convey. 

When Ben’s thumb catches her clit and his cock brushes against that bundle of nerves inside of her, Rey looses her mind. She sees stars and feels warmth like she’s never known and hears the most beautiful sound in the world. Ben, mumbling her name as he comes and comes. His come feels so good inside of her, a warmth that she never knew she needed until right now. His body is tense as he releases, pressing their hips flush together so hard that she thinks they may never part. She’s okay with that.

Ben sags against her, nearly crushing her with his impressive weight, but Rey loves it. She’ll hold him against her forever if he’ll let her. 

Ben moves his head to kiss her again, softer this time. None of the hurried rush they’d experienced before. He’s still firmly inside of her, keeping his come warm and thick in her. She’s boneless and breathless and has never felt this high on ecstasy in her life. 

Ben’s lips break away from hers and he rest his forehead on hers, looking down at her with so much emotion Rey is not mentally prepared to decipher.

“That was…”

“Yeah.”

“I meant it. Everything I said.”

“Me too.”

They’re silent for a minute, content with just staring at each other. Ben seems to realize that Rey is essentially trapped under him, so he pushes himself up, slowly pulling out of her. The rush of fluids that Rey feels escape her makes the flush in her cheeks deepen. Ben is staring between them now, watching their combined come trickle out of her.

“I probably should’ve asked this before but…” His eyes slowly ascend to hers, “do you take birth control?”

“No,” She shakes her head. Something flashes across Ben’s face that is not the fear she anticipated. “I’m on the shot.”

“Oh.” He looks… disappointed? Maybe not quite sad, but there’s a longing in his gaze that Rey isn’t used to, but thrills her all the same. 

“That was a very good way to keep me from falling asleep,” She says, not nearly prepared to talk about that subject. She doesn’t even know where they stand. 

“Is that your way of telling me you’re ready to actually go to bed now?” Ben’s sheepish demeanor returns and Rey is thankful that he’s on the same page as her. 

“Not if you can think of something even better to keep me awake.”

Bens’ gaze darkens once more, and Rey knows that they’re in for a long night.