#placeholder party tag

[sleepy-stitches]

my brain is so evil. why do i have no energy to clean my room. why does it all go to writing weird fucked up yuri. like why am i sitting here enraptured heart and soul by a piece of writing that was meant to be a fragment at best but i am discovering has three entire parts to it. why is that where we are at. i need to clean my fucking room

[missaengg]

Missing You

Day 3 of Kinktober: Visions of Temptation hosted by @xxsycamore Featuring: Love and Deepspace | Rafayel x f!reader Tags: mdni, established relationship, phone sex, dildo, sex toys, masturbation, pwp Prompts: Phone Sex | "See this? It's going to go inside you." ao3 link here.

You stare morosely at your phone. Rafayel had left for an art exhibition in another city a week ago, and despite knowing that he has an insanely jam-packed schedule, you feel miffed he hasn’t had a chance to call even once during that time. 

Your face lights up when your phone starts ringing, the face of your boyfriend lighting up the screen. “Hello?”

“Hi, cutie. Miss me?”

You sigh, leaning back against the sofa. “Tons. When are you getting back?”

“Next week. Thomas has me touring the west side. I think I’ve got an exhibition almost every other day, interviews lined up in between, and gallery parties in the evenings.”

“I love and hate that you’re so busy.”

Rafayel chuckles, the sound tinny and flat through the phone speaker. “I hate being away from you for even a day.” 

“Me too…”

“I have a surprise for you to make up for how long I’ll be gone.”

Your ears perk at the word ‘surprise’, bolting up in eager anticipation.

“It should arrive right abooooooout… now.”

The doorbell rings as soon as Rafayel finishes speaking. Curious, you make your way to the door, opening it to a medium sized box on your welcome mat.

“Open it.”

You bring the box inside back to where you were sitting on the couch, ripping open the tape and pulling out the crumpled paper inside to… what appeared to be a dildo? “Um, Rafayel, what is this?”

"See this? It’s a mold of my dick. It's going to go inside you."

You gulp. For some reason, this replica seems much bigger than he is in real life. “Are you sure you didn’t make the dildo bigger? I could’ve sworn you’re not this big.”

“I–” Rafayel pauses, and in the most indignant tone he can muster, utters, “Of course I’m that big. How the hell are you remembering me?” An irritated sigh floats through the speaker. “I’m going to have to remind you just how big I am when I get home… but in the meantime, that’s going to go inside of you.”

“You want me to have sex with a dildo?”

“My dick shaped dildo. And we’re going to have sex using the dildo as a temporary placeholder until I get back.”

You squint your eyes, staring at the smooth, silicone dildo before you, tilting your head at how we would be having sex. “How?”

“Like this.” You can hear the mischievous twinkle in his voice even over the phone. “I kiss you lightly. My hands are on your cheeks, and they make their way down to your neck, over your shoulders, down to your chest, grazing your breasts. Touch yourself lightly there like I’m touching you. What are your nipples doing? Are they hard?”

You blink. Oh. You follow Rafayel’s instructions, lightly grazing your hands across the front of your breasts. Your nipples pucker under your clothing into firm nubs poking through the thin cardigan you’re wearing. “They’re hard. They’re… poking through my sweater.”

“Good, good. Now I’m placing my thumbs on them, applying pressure, rolling them underneath.”

You roll your thumbs over yourself, feeling tingles within your core from the stimulation. “That feels good, Raf.”

“Now give them a pinch for me.”

You squeeze with your pointer and your thumb, an involuntary gasp leaving your lips. 

Rafayel groans in response to your gasp. “Are you turned on yet? Getting nice and wet for me?”

“I’m not wet enough.”

“Hm… we’re going to have to fix that then, aren’t we?” You hear him shift on his hotel bed, the covers rustling from his movement. “I slide my hands down your torso – are you wearing a skirt or pants?”

You still when your hands reach the waistband of your bottoms. “I’m wearing a skirt.”

You swear you can hear Rafayel smirk over the phone. “Even better. I slide my hands down over your hips to your thighs until I reach the hem, and then I push the fabric up exposing you to your panties. My fingers–”

“– I’m not wearing any.”  

“...What?”

“I said I’m not wearing any underwear.”

Rafayel’s breath catches in his throat at your admission, and knowing your lovely boyfriend, you imagine his face is turning beet red. When he begins breathing again, his breaths are shallow and rapid, and his voice is strained. “Why aren’t you wearing any panties?”

“...iwasthinkingaboutyou…” you mumble into the phone, your own face now a brilliant shade of red mirroring the blush that has likely formed on your boyfriend’s face.

“What?”

“I–” you groan at having to voice this thought out loud, the flush on your face growing even darker, “I was thinking about you!”

A long guttural groan comes through over the speaker. “Naughty cutie,” Rafayel practically hisses. “You’re making this so hard for me.”

“Are you hard right now?” 

“Yeah, so hard for you.”

“Are you… touching yourself?” You ask Rafayel tentatively, feeling shy at being this vocally intimate for the first time.

“Of course I am.” 

Rafayel’s groans flood your core, tingles radiating throughout your lower belly, leaving you squirming in your seat. You don’t care that you might stain your couch with your arousal. All you care about at the moment is Rafayel’s desire for you.

“Fuck, play with yourself for me.”

“You mean my clit?” “Yeah. Imagine I’m touching you, and touch yourself for me.”

You press a trembling finger to your clit, rubbing it in a circle, feeling your nerves burn. You close your eyes, imagining it’s Rafayel stroking you. You moan with each pass, the fire in your core growing hotter.

“God, I wish I could see you touching yourself.” Rafayel’s grunting quietly. 

You can barely hear his grunts over the phone under your own moaning, but the sound is only adding to the throbbing growing between your thighs. “I wish you were here.”

“Me too, baby. Me too,” Rafayel croons. “Are you dripping yet?”

You slide your finger through your slick folds, toying with your opening. “Tons. I’m so ready for you.”

“Grab my dick.”

You grasp his dick-shaped dildo in your hand.

“I enter you slowly, sinking in all the way until I’m filling you entirely. Can you feel me?”

“Ngh.” The sensation of his dick filling you leaves you gasping, your walls sucking his replica in. “You’re so big.” You’re panting already, delighted at how much he’s stretching you out.

“God, I can almost feel you.”

“Are you sure you’re really this big normally?”

“Seriously? I’ll remind you just how big I am when I get home, multiple times. Now focus.” Rafayel sulks, his pout reaching you though you’re unable to see the expression on his face. 

You grin wickedly hearing your boyfriend flounder. “Multiple times. You promised.”

“Honestly,” he huffs, his voice strangled on the other end of the line. “I should cancel the rest of this trip and come home right now.”

“But you can’t,” you hum in faux sympathy.

Rafayel growls impatiently. “I thrust into you. Follow me, baby. Fuck yourself with my cock. Pretend I’m there fucking you.”

You pump the dildo furiously, the silicone dragging on your walls. Your body remembers your boyfriend’s shape, your walls greedily dragging him in deep. 

“Put the phone by your pussy. I want to hear it.”

You place the phone on the couch by your gyrating hips hoping the sounds of his replica entering and exiting you carry through. “Can you hear it?”

Rafayel sharply inhales, which he then exhales in a low, guttural groan. “Fuck. Oh, fuck, that’s good.” 

Desperate for more, you reach your other hand down to probe your engorged clit. Your eyes roll back in your head, ecstatic moans ripping from your throat, his name falling off your tongue.

“Say my name, cutie.”

“Rafayel,” you moan, drawing out the syllables of his name.

Hearing his name on your lips excites Rafayel, and you hear the slapping of his fist against his pelvis accompanied by the sound of skin against skin. He’s groaning, the pace of his pumping growing into a feral frenzy. “Are you… are you close?”

“Mmhmm…” Your butt lifts off the couch, all the muscles in your legs tensing from the electricity building in your core. “Close, so close.”

“Cum for me,” Rafayel commands.

You let go, the shockwaves of your ecstasy washing over you in waves, a passionate cry bursting from your chest. “Rafayel.” Feeling your walls convulse around Rafayel’s replica, you repeatedly cry out his name.

Rafayel follows soon after, his utterances of ‘fuck’ making you smile in your blissed out state. You sink to the soft cushions below you without pulling out the toy Rafayel sent you.

“Did you make a mess?” Rafayel’s voice floats to you, twinkles of laughter evident in the satisfied exhaustion.

“When have I ever not with you?” You sweetly chuckle, curling up next to the phone now by your head.

“Heh… we’ll have to make a mess together then when I’m back.”

You hum, smiling as you close your eyes. “I need to inspect how big you are compared to your dildo. I seriously still think you may have augmented yourself a bit.”

“This again? Cutie, I promise you I really am that–”

You shake with laughter at Rafayel’s indignant protests, interrupting him to say “I prefer the real you. I miss you.”

“Me too. One more week, and I’ll be home.”

“I may need to sleep with Little Rafayel until you get back.”

“Don’t replace me with him!” Rafayel falls silent, and in a little voice adds, “Please.” 

You shake your head. “Never. Only when you’re not here.”

“Good.” Rafayel clicks his tongue. “I have to go, I’m supposed to attend some dinner soon, but I gotta clean up first.”

You whine feeling empty at the prospect of having to hang up the phone. You hear Rafayel sigh from the other side.

“I’ll try to call you soon,” he murmurs, feeling forlorn himself. “Keep Little Rafayel on hand for when I do. I’ll make it up to you.”

“You better,” you tease, covering up how much you loathe to let him go.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Rafayel hangs up the phone. You stare morosely at your phone again, but this time, you feel a little less lonely knowing that you have a little piece of him – as reminded by the feeling of him inside you – to keep you company until he returns.

[adverbally]

Don’t Ask Me What You Know Is True

Written for the @steddieangstyaugust prompt “Second Chance”

wc: 1,005 | rated: M | cw: none | tags: accusations of infidelity, relationship insecurity, angst with a happy ending | title from “Never Tear Us Apart” by INXS

———

Steve is chatting with Nancy and Robin in the kitchen when Eddie grabs him by the elbow.

“Hey, Eddie! Having fun?” Robin greets him brightly. She’s on her fourth beer of the evening so the words come out a little louder than she probably intended, even with the noise of the party around them.

To Steve’s surprise, Eddie ignores her. He just leans closer to Steve’s ear and says lowly, “Can I talk to you? Privately?”

Steve turns to get a good look at Eddie. He can smell the alcohol on his breath, can see the tension around his eyes and in the set of his mouth, like he’s pissed off but trying to hide it. “Uh. Sure.”

To the girls, he says, “I’ll be right back.” Half of it gets lost in the loud music playing from the living room as Eddie tugs him in that direction.

Stepping carefully around the paper cups and abandoned snacks scattered throughout the house, Steve follows Eddie into the guest bathroom and closes the door behind them. It’s blessedly quiet in here compared to the chaos of the festivities they just left.

“Thanks for the rescue.” Steve sighs in relief and rubs at his temples. “I’m gonna have to kick everyone out soon if I want to be functional tomorrow.”

Eddie snorts derisively. “Everyone?”

“You can stay the night if you want, you know that.” It’s been months since either of them slept alone, with Eddie sleeping in Steve’s bed more nights than not. “Nobody will say anything.”

“What about Nancy?” Eddie spits.

Steve blinks at him across the bathroom, his brows furrowing in confusion as he tries to parse Eddie’s question. “She’s driving people home, so… no? Robin had a lot to drink so she might take the guest room, but she won’t care.”

Eddie doesn’t say anything, just keeps leaning against the counter with his arms crossed. The lights above the mirror make his dark circles and clenched jaw look even more pronounced.

Through the pleasantly tipsy haze surrounding his brain, Steve realizes that Eddie is actually angry, not just acting as an excuse to pull him away from his conversation. “Hey, are you okay? Did I do something?” He steps closer, reaches out to rest a comforting hand on Eddie’s bicep, but Eddie jerks away from his touch.

“Like you fucking care.” He sniffs furiously. “Like you weren’t busy flirting with Nancy all night–”

Steve interrupts, “Whoa, flirting with Nancy?” He had barely even seen her tonight, only getting about five minutes to chat before Eddie pulled him away. “Why the hell would I flirt with her when we’ve been broken up for three years?”

“You tell me.” Eddie’s eyes are hard and dark, with no hint of their usual warmth.

“I wouldn’t!” Steve’s chest feels like it’s about to cave in, his heart imploding and taking the rest of him with it. “Where is this coming from?”

Eddie points aggressively at the bathroom door. “I saw the way you were looking at her,” he hisses. “You’re obviously still in love with her, and she wasn’t exactly trying to shut you down now that she and Jonathan are broken up.”

“No, I love you. Just you.” Helpless tears are burning in Steve’s eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “She’s my friend and that’s it, I swear.”

“No, I don’t think so,” Eddie shakes his head with a rueful smile. His eyes are glassy, but Steve can’t tell if it’s because he’s about to cry or because he’s drunk. “I know you wanted her back. And now you’ve got your second chance. I was just… a placeholder, a distraction. Someone to keep your dick warm for her.”

A flare of anger erupts in him, almost worse than the hurt. Steve tries to tamp it down. “You really think that little of me? You think I’m someone who would just use you like that?”

“Why else would you be with me?”

Steve hears how Eddie's voice wobbles and immediately feels like someone has just dumped ice water over his head. He tries to soften his voice. “Eddie, I’m with you because you’re you. How could you be a placeholder for somebody else when you– you would overflow the place you’re holding? You would make the place yours.”

Not his most eloquent moment, but hopefully Eddie pays more attention to his tone than the specific words Steve is vomiting.

He steps closer to Eddie, reaches out like he’s letting a stray dog sniff his hand. When Eddie doesn’t lash out, Steve takes his hand and hooks their pinky fingers together. It feels like he’s making a vow when he tells Eddie, “You’re so much more than I ever knew I was missing. And what I felt for Nancy doesn’t even come close to how much I love you.”

Eddie won’t look at him but Steve can see the tears beading up along his lash line. “I don’t deserve it,” he murmurs.

“That’s the best part. You don’t have to.” Steve tilts his head, trying to catch Eddie’s eye. “I’m gonna love you anyway. No strings attached. Even when you drink too much and make an ass of yourself.”

With a chuckle, Eddie finally glances up at Steve through his lashes. “Yeah, not my finest moment. I don’t suppose we could forget this ever happened?”

“Not a chance.” Steve presses a kiss to Eddie’s forehead. “We’re gonna talk about this as soon as you sleep off your hangover.”

Eddie groans dramatically and drops his head onto Steve’s shoulder.

“Go drink some water and get ready for bed. I’ll start sending everyone home.”

“‘Kay,” he mumbles into Steve’s chest. “Love you. And I’m sorry for being an insecure asshole.”

Steve wraps his arms around Eddie. “Love you too. And you might be an insecure asshole, but you’re my insecure asshole.” Before Eddie can make an inappropriate joke, Steve tells him, “C’mon, the kids are gonna think we’re fucking in here.”

Eddie’s laugh has never sounded so sweet.

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

out of curiosity and the need for procrastination!

also we not going into the "i literally read y-en when i see y/n" discourse or rambling about preferring narrative style over placeholders. don't be a party pooper

reblog for sample size! :3

[carminecherry]

THE SUMMER HEAT, THE COOL CAFE | mikey sano

this is part one of the series kill the lights

⇝ PAIRING: timeskip!biker!mikey sano x fem!reader

⇝ SERIES SYNOPSIS: after moving by yourself to tokyo, you black out at a party and wake up with a new friend. as she sweeps you up in her fast-paced city life, you feel yourself falling deeper and deeper for her mysterious brother. but something dark is brewing in the city. as his past threatens to resurface, mikey must fight not only physical enemies but the mental battle of his feelings for you. he can't resist you , but could he ever forgive himself if something happened to you? he'll love you selfishly and protect you savagely.

⇝ PART ONE LENGTH: 2.8k words

⇝ PART ONE WARNINGS: N/A (18+ minors do not interact):

all characters are 20+; Alternate Universe! Canon Divergent. you go out for coffee with emma after meeting at a mutual friend's house party. a friendship blossoms, but you can't seem to get a certain biker out of your head.

⇝ AUTHOR'S NOTE: I have been haunted by this mikey fic for almost a year! I hope you all can enjoy the drama and popcorn fiction of the world of the mikey-verse. we'll keep it fun and flirty and I PROMISE the build up will be worth it ;) it starts off slow, but there is gratuitous smut later in the series. keep an eye on the tags and stay safe! <3

DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS WORK IF YOU ARE A MINOR. BY CLICKING THE READMORE, YOU CONSENT TO VIEWING ADULT CONTENT.

The city has become a concrete jungle. The summer sun roasting the land beneath it. Lavishing in its task; making the hours creep by ever so slowly. Even after the sun goes down, the heat sets into the earth like a deep rot. 

You step out of your apartment, the distant star glaring down. The buzzing of the cicadas makes the heavy, humid air vibrate in an unpleasant way. You always hated summer and summers in Tokyo were a special hell. The way your clothes would cling to your sweaty body. How the muggy, wet air thickened your breath. And that's all before you consider the insects. 

One of the few blessings of living in the city was that there weren’t as many bugs here as in your childhood home. However, you didn’t have a parent here to kill or catch the scary ones that would occasionally make their way into your apartment and you didn’t have the heart or stomach to deal with them. 

A particularly ferocious looking cockroach had been in your sanctuary last night, which meant you had spent the better part of an hour making a very convincing argument for it to walk out of the balcony door. All the while, praying nothing else would fly in. Cursing and mentally tallying the money pouring out into the hot summer night as your AC ran at full blast. Fall couldn’t come soon enough. 

Today was particularly blistering. Your phone already growing hot in the short distance to the train station. If you hadn’t made plans in a better, more social mood, you could still be curled up under your AC. You cursed the gregarious version of yourself from the other night. The crowded train swaying, other passengers bumping into you with each motion. But It was too early in the friendship to flake now.

You had met her through a mutual friend at a house party. You were still relatively new to the city and didn’t have a community yet. Blessedly, it turns out you had a good friend from university living close by. Earlier in the week, out of the blue, he had reached out. The two of you had studied hard and partied harder as undergraduates. While he seemed to be making something of his fashion design degree, if his immaculately curated luxury loft were any indicator of success, you were busting your ass to make ends meet. 

Your job at the small combination cafe and bookshop was aesthetic and cozy but ultimately a placeholder until you found a job in your industry. Maybe you should’ve done Fashion Design after all. 

You wanted to catch up with him the other night, maybe even do some networking at his house party, but you had barely been able to get two sentences in before he was called off to talk to other party-goers. This had left you in your worst, admittedly nicely decorated, nightmare. 

This solitude and anxiety had led to you sipping awkwardly from one too many drinks. But the alcohol had eased your nerves enough for you to talk to another girl at the party. Regrettably, much of your conversion had been lost to the liquor, but meeting for coffee today had been nailed down before you lost too much of your sense. 

You winced in embarrassment, rubbing away the ghost of your hangover from the other night. You hope you hadn’t made a fool of yourself, and if you had, you hope that she doesn’t remember it either. 

Just then, your phone buzzed with a notification. Emma, the girl from the party’s name flashes on your phone screen. You tapped it quickly and read, 

“I’m so sorry, my ride fell through but I got another one. I’m running a little late but I’m on my way!” 

Thank god. Your heart had dropped seeing the preview of the message, thinking she was about to cancel. You quickly type back, 

“No sweat! I’ll see if I can snag us any of the good seats ;)”  

You don’t imagine it’ll be too busy since it’s that golden window after breakfast and before lunch, but the “good seats” are always the first to go. The thought of having to sit out on the balcony in this weather makes you cringe. The train lurches to a halt and you get your elbows up, worming your way out of the crowded car. The joys of Tokyo living.

You idly make your way to your destination, wishing there was some sort of breeze to ease the waves of hot air rising from the concrete. The streets are dotted with only a handful of other people; everyone else must be smart enough to stay inside today. There are a few cars on the road, the way the wind shifts around them as they zip past throws off an uncomfortable, hot gust.

You turned the corner to cut back to some of the side streets, there were usually less cars there; more pedestrian friendly. You’d usually opt for a cozier, more hole-in-the-wall type of cafe like the one you worked at, but Emma had insisted that she wanted to try the new seasonal drink at this place. 

This location was often not as busy as you would expect from one of the most popular coffee joints in Tokyo. Well, the world. But ever since tourists started coming back to Japan, it was becoming more difficult to anticipate the crowds. You rounded the corner and neared the big wooden doors. 

The cicadas were noisy as hell, even here. You noticed there was something masked by the buzzing. A revving? The sound rapidly approached and in moments was bearing down on you. You jumped back, securely on the sidewalk as a motorcycle screeched to a halt. The sudden appearance of the two riders on its back catching nearby eyes. 

The driver of the bike was dressed head to toe in black, matching his sleek black bike. You could practically see the heat waves rolling off of the leather biker jacket that stretched across a broad back and tightened over what were sure to be muscular shoulders. 

You questioned how and why anyone could wear that getup in this weather. The smaller figure on the back was more sensibly dressed in light, loose clothes, the outfit accentuating their feminine features. She tugged off her helmet, golden locks tumbled free of their confines.

“Jesus! It’s too hot to be wearing a damn helmet, Mikey! I think it messed up my hair” she whined, shoving the helmet into the hands of the figure named Mikey. She tossed her hair a few times in an attempt to fluff some life back  into what was matted by the helmet. She was stunning regardless. He made no move to take off his headwear, the visor an impenetrable black, betraying no feature of the face beneath. 

“That’s a long way to say thank you.” He returned dully. She gave him a shove as she hopped off the bike. Turning on her heel she offered, “Thank you.” The words dripped in sarcasm. He nodded, seemingly satisfied despite the tone. Emma turned again, eyes finally locking on you. They’re a pretty honey color slightly darker than her hair. 

“EEE! Oh my god! It’s so good to see you!” She squeals, rushing over to hug you. The sudden physical affection catches you off guard. You hope she doesn’t feel how sweaty you are. “Hey~ I thought you were going to be late?!” You respond, giving a gentle squeeze back before slipping from her grip. You continue with a smile, “It’s great to see you too. Thanks for meeting up with me today.” 

She smiles back. She has a pretty smile that crinkles her nose and shows off her straight, white teeth. She’s as beautiful as you recalled from the party, despite your memory being hazy. As you admire the features of the woman in front of you, you feel a prickling on the back of your neck. That feeling when you know someone is watching you and you feel the world zoom in on the space around you. 

Your eyes dart up and land on the figure still seated on the bike. His stance unnaturally still. Despite the visor still blocking your view, you knew those were the eyes boring into you. You smiled awkwardly and offered a small wave to the figure sizing you up. He made no move to respond. Emma registered the situation and turned back to face Mikey. “You can go now.” In a tone so icy you almost forgot you were in the armpit of summer. 

“I’m gonna have Draken pick me up so don’t worry about hanging around.” With that she waved him off dismissively. There was a beat before her words registered and the biker’s head snapped forward, nodding sharply before revving his engine. You felt the reverberation in your bones. Then, in a bolt of jet black, he was gone. Your eyes lingered in the space where he’d been. 

“Sorry about him. He’s not good with new people.” Emma says, shaking her head and holding the door open. You step into the massive cafe, the cold air a welcome embrace. “It’s all good. Was he at the party the other night too?” You ask, eyes surveying the crowded room for an open table. “Nah, he had to work late. He’s also not much of a party person, believe it or not.” She says, lacing the end of her statement with sarcasm. “What?! No way!” You feign surprise. She shoulder bumps you playfully as the two of you make your way up to the second floor. You like her already.

Your mind replays their interactions from before and the dynamic wasn’t giving that of a romantic relationship. “So, how do you know him?” You ask, your eyes turning to the pretty blonde. “Oh! He’s my brother, Mikey!” She said with a hearty laugh. “Sorry! I should've introduced you!” She apologizes.  “It’s all good! He seemed like he had somewhere to be.” Your offer. She rolled her eyes, “He’s always rushing off somewhere, I’m surprised I was able to catch him today to give me a ride.” You look around the second floor for an open table to no avail. You say a prayer to a certain green mermaid that there will be seats on the third floor. 

“That’s brutal though. Working late on a Friday night and having to rush around on a Sunday.” Your homebody shudders at the thought of working on the weekends. “Yeah, well he’s too much of a busybody to sit around doing nothing. I don’t think he’s been relaxed since we were kids.” Her gaze drifts and you get the sense that conversation has reached its end. 

“Anyways, the party was a lot of fun! How do you know Yuuki?” you ask, changing the subject. “Oh, he’s actually friends with my boyfriend Draken and, I guess, acquaintances with Mikey.” The word acquaintances seemed to be doing some heavy lifting and the nosy side of you wanted to know more, but you locked onto the juicier topic.“Oh~ Boyfriend.” You tease. Of course a girl as pretty as Emma would be taken. “Does he have any single friends? Any cute ones? Could he hook me up?” You continue. 

She laughs, “Not many I think he would vouch for, but I can let him know there is an interested party.” Score! In more ways than one, there is an open window seat calling your name on the third floor. You set your bags down to claim the space. You sink into the plush seats to test them out, heavenly. She returns your question, “How about you, how do you know Yuuki?” 

“We were friends in university, we had some classes together. Actually, I was surprised to hear from him when I moved to the city. You know, we haven’t really talked since graduation. I don’t even know how he knew I moved here to be honest...” You say with a dry laugh. 

Come to think of it, you hadn’t questioned when his message slid into your DMs. Welcoming you to Tokyo and inviting you to his house party. Truthfully, you thought he might’ve been shooting his shot. He’s cute and the two of you had a little will-they-won't-they that never played out in university. But his complete dismissal of you at the party had been signal enough. 

“Either way, he used to throw ragers at his place back on campus and it seems like he’s perfected the craft here.” As you continue, Emma’s eyes drift out the large floor to ceiling windows and a scowl flashes across her face, too quick for you to notice. She whips her phone out under the low table and skillful fingers fly across the screen, stabbing out a message that is delivered before you end your sentence. If you listened closely, the sound of a bike might’ve been heard over the ambience of the crowded cafe.

You’re pulled out of your reverie by Emma, clapping her hands as she stands from her seat, sparkles in her eyes. “If you’re looking for a good party you found the right girl. I’m actually working as a promoter right now. If you ever want to go out, shoot me a message. I’ll put your name on the list!” A wide smile stretching across her face. “Only if you promise you’ll be there with me.” You counter, flashing your best puppy dog eyes. “It’s a deal.” She winks, “Let’s get our coffee before the line gets any longer.” You rise from your seat, the promise of caffeine is an attractive one and the two of you make your way to the counter. 

***

Coffee had been perfect. What nerves you had about meeting Emma had melted in her warm aura. She was walking sunshine. The afternoon had been filled with laughs and knee slaps, It had felt like home. Before you knew it, the day had gotten away from you. With a promise of coffee next Sunday, the two of you made your exits. 

Another biker pulled up in front of the cafe. His build is slightly taller than Mikey’s. His bike was cool and looked more retro from what limited knowledge you had. Emma practically glowed as she skipped to the man. Wrapping her arms around him. He pulled off his helmet as he steadied his bike, balancing the woman embracing him. 

His features are severe and strikingly handsome. He has a muscular and imposing build. His bleached hair is cut into a kind of shaggy mohawk. The hair on the top of his head is longer and braided while the sides are shaved to the scalp. You notice he has a large tattoo that curls behind his ear and goes down his neck. Between his physique, the bike, the ink, he might’ve looked scary if he didn’t look like he was about to melt. His eyes were soft and locked on the woman in his arms. What you wouldn’t give to have someone look at you like that. Especially if it was a guy who looked like him.

You exchanged a brief introduction and he gave you a firm handshake, his expression unreadable when facing you. You said your goodbyes and watched as the two of them rode off. You had a nostalgic feeling lingering in your chest. Happiness from the day mixed with something else. Is it loneliness? You couldn’t quite place it as you made your way back to your apartment, the heat getting the better of you. The cicadas were beginning their nightly choir as you neared your door. You had noticed many things that day that played in a loop in your mind. 

The way Emma’s hair shimmered like gold when it caught the sunlight, the way the thrum of people in the cafe had made the top of your drink shimmer with vibration, the new spider web woven into the nook between the station sign and the wall near your exit, even now how the sky was streaked with magenta and tangerine hues as the sun dipped below the horizon. 

You’d always find yourself drawn to bright, shiny things. Not daring a glance to the shadows that creep along the periferie. What you can’t see can hurt you. That's a hard lesson. One you were bound to learn sooner or later. It was too late to change the trajectory as your door closed securely behind you. Everything was already in motion and, without realizing it, you’d been tugged into the current. Nothing would’ve changed, but if you had turned and glanced at the shadows, you might’ve seen the black silhouette of a biker in stark contrast to the vibrant summer world.

[2demondogs]

When You're A Stranger | Kieran/Male Reader

Tags: First kiss AGAIN!!, Kieran had PTSD and he's a little autism coded Words: 2k A/N: For Kinktober (SFW). Originally I was going to fill the frottage prompt but it was NOT sparking joy.

You know you put Kieran on edge. Kindness seems almost painful to him, and fear that you’ve pushed too hard follows whenever he has shied away from you.

Kicked dogs don’t cozy up fast, you’ll remind yourself, and then he’ll come around again.

He’s starting to learn that you aren’t intending to backhand him if he looks at you too long or speaks too softly around you. Even beyond the sweetness you’ve got stored on him, or maybe because of it and the strength love seems to give people to accept lonesomeness in favor of their darling’s happiness, you want him to have… someone, in some sense, that he doesn’t have to fear. Whether, in the end, it’s you or not— that doesn’t matter, but you’ll be the placeholder while he needs it.

His burgeoning confidence is starting to put you on edge, too, if it could be called confidence.

Kieran is bad at hiding his emotions, a real travesty as far as his general safety is concerned. You couldn’t place your finger on what exactly it was in his eyes until an evening where Molly had decided it was your turn to listen to her strife. She had glanced at Dutch the same way: soft-eyed, yearning, that little curl to her mouth. She hadn’t been angry anymore, merely… sad.

Good God, you’d thought, after she’d left you to sulk. He’s in love with me.

A lot of pieces fell into place, then: the patchy rosiness on Kieran’s cheeks that you chalked up to rosacea or sunburning; how he would straighten up when you did, sliding clumsily into mirroring your body language; his clinginess, laced with anticipation that kept him still-distant but much closer than he would ever be caught standing or sitting next to anyone else.

And those eyes, a cloudy color you haven’t gotten close enough to make out yet. They glaze over when you talk as if he’s in a trance — Jesus, you knew that your attention to detail had gone to total shit when that clicked into place, because it’s been painfully obvious ever since. You’d asked him once why he always stared when people spoke to him, and he told you his father had beat his ass raw for not looking him in the eye when he spoke.

That sufficed for the fact he stared, but not the way he did it. It had always been different, with you.

Meatier.

Kieran’s inhibition is palpable once he’s been drinking. Sean had been trotted into camp, loud as ever, and the group beer rations were quickly broken out to celebrate as dusk settled into the skyline beyond the Overlook. For the redhead’s piece, you’d asked him how the O’Driscolls didn’t fear what the rest of you were like after kidnapping his ass; more seriously, you’d ask how he was doing. He’d brushed you off, apparently preferring the taunting to genuine concern. Fair enough. You left him to talk someone else's ear off and wandered to a man you knew would enjoy your company.

He is nursing a beer, watching the campfire crowded ‘round with half of the camp. The tangible longing depresses you in its familiarity. Hosea's doing the same, from a fold-up chair beside his bedroll; Kieran squints when you greet him with: “Hey, old coot. Gonna join the party?”

It takes a second, but he huffs a tense laugh as you glance between him and Hosea. “Don’t think I’m missed,” he says, meeting your eyes.

There it is, that expression. It’s full to bursting.

“I’m missin’ you,” you say, nodding to the hay bale. “Mind if I join your party?”

“Sure thing." His voice sounds strained.

His beer is barely drank from, and neither is yours. The redness of his cheeks and nose, well— you don’t know what it’s from, and the daylight is so faded that it simply looks dark. Maybe it’s been a tan all along.

Or so you’d think, if he didn’t turn to you as soon as you settled a tad too close to him, eyes stuck on your face. The alcohol takes the edge off of your own carefully woven respect for his personal space, and by the time you realize how near you are, it has been too many peaceful seconds to excuse his staring for indignancy. His brows pull together like his mind has blanked in the middle of a thought before it could leave his mouth.

“Kieran?” You ask, and he blinks himself back to earth.

“S’rry,” he says, quick, mouth cracking back in a half-smile. “Real tired.”

“Oughtta be,” you say, taking a drink. He turns back to his own bottle and mirrors you. “All those gray hairs you got comin’ out, I’d be shocked if you weren’t tired. Stress’ll wear you out.”

The air eases. Stress is a word Kieran is familiar with.

“Aye,” he agrees. “Guess I do look pretty rough for my age.”

You smile some. “I was only teasing.” When, predictably, he turns to you— you wink. “Promise.”

He offers a short up-curl of his lips. It stutters when Javier’s guitar starts, sudden and sharp.

“I know,” he says. He tongues the inside of his cheeks, eyes glancing to the ground as if he’d like to watch it instead of you and yet can’t help himself. They roam over your face instead, as he struggles for the words; you let him find them, brows raised. “You never are mean to me. Not really.”

Simple. No juicy tell-all, but simple and sweet. The men start to sing around the fire, a song you don’t recognize.

“Never would want to be,” you say.

He swallows, and you’re certain now of everything you’ve suspected but found difficult to believe. Sure, the signs were damning on his part, and you’ve spent enough time mulling over each and every action to think of someone who does the same things, yet certainly does not fancy you; each one came up with an answer, except that look.

“Why not?” He asks, then, and you’re a little surprised.

“Oh, Kieran,” you say, gently. In your peripherals, Hosea raises to get another beer and Lenny tosses in his sleep. “Men choose to be mean. Well, maybe they’re mean by design, but they choose to show it, at least.”

The concept seems as comforting to him as it does alarming. “Most of ‘em choose it,” he says, eyes squinting. It’s a tic you’ve noticed he has, an irregular twitch of his muscles.

“I know,” you say. Chancing it, you lay an open hand on his upper back; he flinches, but then his shoulders fall an inch or two. “I don’t know what it is about you,” you answer the question before he can ask. “Maybe 'cause you never choose meanness yourself. Makes a man look inside of himself when someone makes a different choice than him, and I doubt they like what they see. To them, that's your fault, so they gotta beat it out of you.”

Kieran thinks the words over. To be honest, you have little idea what you're really saying, are flying off-the-cuff about a subject you probably shouldn’t be — but it feels crucial to answer fast, to speak whatever comes to you first whether it makes sense or not. Some people call gut reactions true feelings, anyways.

“Think I understand." He’s quiet, for a moment. “Y’never get tired of me?”

You huff a laugh. “I get tired of everybody, but I rest up quicker if it’s you.”

He seems to appreciate the lack of sugarcoating. “Me too,” he admits. Lifting his head again, eyes lingering beside your face and then at your jaw, he starts: “You’re really— you’re, uh, real,” — the scramble inside of his head to read your emotions is almost audible, and he finishes uncertainly — “Good to me.”

“You’re talkin’ in circles,” you point out, tone easy.

Kieran flushes. “I appreciate you,” he corrects, tears his eyes away. More to himself, he mumbles: “Yeah, ‘preciate you a lot.”

You smooth your hand across his shoulders. He tenses, but it doesn’t feel as flighty as it usually does. Disappointment might even flicker in him when you take it away. “I appreciate you, too, Kieran,” you say, and can’t help smiling.

Silence passes. Both of you watch the merriment around the fire, Kieran cringing when Dutch starts up his wailing gramophone and takes Molly by the hand. You’ve been thinking, now and again, of how she looked at Dutch just seconds after saying she hated him. Sometimes, I wish he’d grab me by the hair and put me on the boat so I could finally leave him. And then that longing, wanting the very thing you're sitting here watching.

At that, you feel shamefully voyeuristic. Sean is nowhere to be found, and you feel even more voyeuristic when you hear his voice alongside Karen’s over the cacophony.

God, there isn’t anywhere safe to turn your eyes or your ears in this goddamn place. You hope Kieran will start talking again, and then you remember it’s Kieran, so you’d better say something first or you’ll sit in silence the rest of the evening. For someone so stuck in his head, he doesn’t seem to think about many things he’d like to share.

You don’t know he’s looking at you until you turn to speak. It’s your turn to pause, the few lingering seconds of tolerance you have left for not bringing it up passing in the bated breath you share with him.

“Why’re you staring?”

He takes a breath. “You’re nice-lookin’,” he says, voice shockingly calm and even in a rare show of confidence. Then he takes a swig, much healthier than the rest he’s drank. “I jus’— you’re nice to look at.”

You bite the bullet. “Do you want to kiss me?”

Kieran blanches, apparently not expecting an equally as tactless dive-in response. A story crosses his face in an instant: relief, panic, pain, happiness, a few more expressions that you don’t believe have been named by science. “Why?” He asks, but his eyes aren’t behind the question. It’s a knee-jerk response, a self-defense against the idea that he might be worth something kind.

A smile finds you then. “Aren’t you flirting with me?” You ask, partially to get him to admit to it and partially to ease the doubt that prods at your insides.

He nods, and then pauses. Suddenly, he laughs. “Shit, yeah,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “I don’t— ‘m sorry, I’ve never… with a man? I ain’t even kissed a girl.” He flushes as if he didn’t mean to say that aloud. "Honestly, it kind of doesn't make sense how I'm s'posed to—"

“Kieran,” you interrupt his babbling, itching to grab him but knowing it would scare him. “Look me in the eye.”

He obeys instantly.

His face melts, and so does your heart. If watching the others feel voyeuristic, this feels exhibitionist; his adoration is so clear on his face, and you can’t help letting your own seep through the mask of nonchalance you try to uphold. To look sweet is one thing as a man; to look sweet on another man is something you avoid at all costs. Yet it doesn’t matter, without anyone watching, even if it chafes on your skin for the mere air of camp to contain it.

“Forget everything. Whether it’s right or wrong or new or old or whatever the Hell,” you say. He nods, throat clicking as he swallows. “Tell me: do you want to kiss me?”

“O’course I do,” he says, as if it’s a dumb question.

He tastes like beer and one of Sean’s terrible hand-rolled cigarettes, must’ve bummed one before the man hit the hay with Karen. The thought is humorous. His beard is scratchy on your face, and his mouth doesn’t move, uncertain how to work against yours — until it makes more sense, and his lips shift slightly, still inhibited.

You lean back first, because you aren’t sure he would even realize he’s supposed to.

[nattinatalia]

Jack Harlow x Instagram AU

A/N : A little late but something is better than nothing lol enjoy 👻

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, yourusername, ezharlow,cassiewyatt, and 7,567,355 others

alizemiaharlow What up bullet?!

View all 1,300 comments

cassiewyatt YES YES YES 🔥 hot mama

ezharlow 🤦🏻 had to ruin her for me 💔

alizemiaharlow Not like you had a chance with her anyway.

yourusername 😍😍😍

yourusername side note, I love me some Paul Walker 💙

jackharlow Yeah we know but there wasn’t anything Paul Walker related here so idk why say that.

ezharlow Ohhhh look at Mr “I don’t get jealous.”

jackharlow Shut up.

yourusername 💀😭😭😭

•

Liked by cassiewyatt, cozane, meganfox, selenosunni, jackharlow, yourusername, and 6,876,345 others

alizemiaharlow “No, I’m eating boys. Boys are just placeholders, they come and go.” 🩸 🩸

View all 1,200 comments

meganfox 🔥 yesssssss you killed it

alizemiaharlow OMGG AHHH I CAN DIE HAPPY NOW.

user Queen of Halloween 🎃

urbanwyatt Hey, that throne belongs to my wife.

ezharlow WHY DO YOU KEEP RUINING IT FOR ME!!!!!!!

cassiewyatt Control your little boy hormones.

jackharlow I agree with you son

yourusername lmaoooooooo I hate you.

alizemiaharlow These boys are annoying mom!

yourusername Story of my life baby, just have to roll with the punches.

•

Liked by alizemiaharlow, yourusername, selenosunni, druski, claybornharlow, and 7,567,345 others

ezharlow I think I got a little too cocky this time.

View all 1,200 comments

alizemiaharlow WHO’S RUINING THINGS NOWWW????

alizemiaharlow LIKE WHYYYY RUIN HIM FOR ME 😭

druski How can you love a anime guy? It’s not possible

yourusername IT IS POSSIBLE AND EZEQUIEL YOU REALLY DID RUIN IT FOR USSS 😩

ezharlow 💀

ezharlow If you think I ruined him for you, just watch my next one 😈

alizemiaharlow Oh god nooooo.

yourusername IT BETTER NOT BE WHO IM THINKING BECAUSE I WILL DISOWN YOU.

jackharlow Who’s being dramatic now 😗

yourusername QUIET JACKMAN.

•

Liked by yourusername, ezharlow, urbanwyatt, cassiewyatt, alizemiaharlow, and 2,449,455 others

jackharlow Sebastian really taking the role of Spider-Man seriously. 📸 @ urbanwyatt

View all 1,200 comments

yourusername 🕷️ 🕸️ ❤️

urbanwyatt ✨ He really is a natural, easiest client ever.

jackharlow I take offense to that.

cassiewyatt So do I

alizemiaharlow X’3 🤨

urbanwyatt Let me just *runs and hides*

user I thought his name was Ace???

jackharlowsource It is. Sebastian is his middle name, they always use their middle names 🤷🏻‍♀️

claybornharlow my friendly neighborhood Spider-Man 😍

ezharlow Can we talk about the fact he saw a old picture of me dressed as Spider-Man and he said he wanted to be like me 🫡🫢

yourusername That tugged at my heartstrings when he said that 🥺 my baby boys ❤️

•

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, ezharlow, alizemiaharlow, and 7,866,345 others

yourusername While everyone is getting ready for our annual Halloween party, there’s Lizeth, who hates dressing up 😩

View all 2,200 comments

jackharlow It’s her world, we just live in it ✨

alizemiaharlow Wow, I remember you used to tell ME that.

yourusername 😅

jackharlow Let me rephrase that- It’s my girls world, we just live in it.

alizemiaharlow I guess I’ll take it.

yourbestiename She really does hate dressing up, who is sheeeee????

urbanwyatt She got that from @ cassiewyatt

cassiewyatt Wait a minute, I like dressing up, just not all month. I’m not like mom, tia and Mia.

•

Liked by yourusername, selenosunni, alizemiaharlow, ezharlow, and 6,876,345 others

jackharlow HARLOWEEN ❤️

View all 1,200 comments

yourusername My man 😍

jackharlow For life 🤞🏼

alizemiaharlow My parents really did that 🔥

ezharlow Not dad being in character all night 😭

cassiewyatt ❤️

alizemiaharlow Cass, when are you posting your Halloween pictures? 👀

cassiewyatt Eh should I???

alizemiaharlow Duhhhhh

mamamaggie You two 😍❤️

•

TAG LIST

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[the-ellia-west]

INTRO POST!!1!!!!!1!

Hello! I'm Ellia! Welcome to my weird-ass writeblr blog! Here's some things to know about me:

I am an Aspiring author and Devoted Christian Woman. I live in the USA (CDT time zone) I am a minor, and the only other language I know is some very spotty spanish.

I mainly write Fantasy, and I'm working on four main projects (Listed Below)!

I like: Jesus, Bright Colors, People, Writing, Reading, Cats, Music, Warm Weather, Rain, Flowers, Dresses, and my Moots!

I Dislike: The texture of wool, Heavy Lifting, Baked Beans, Sin, Satan, Demons, and the Time Travel Trope

Hey! Pst! Before you continue! I have a side blog! Check out @jakkon-and-rose-topic if you want to read some stuff!

Tags:

Ellia Writes - Any talking or sharing of any aspect of any of my WIPs

Ellia's Construction Company - How I make stuff, tutorials, ect.

Ghost Party - Chatting and geeking out with my friends/Moots

Ellia answers - Answering questions

Ellia's Rambling - Me talking about stuff (a little too much)

Ellia's Haunted house - Any posts that I could slot into my story and character/world building. And my pile of creations (Including shitposts)

Ellia's mind palace - Stuff I'm adding to my mental Library :]

Ghost gardens - Aesthetic Pictures and stuff

Ghost scribbles - Art/Drawing Practice

My Wips:

TCOT - (The Cursed One's Throne) - TCOT is a low fantasy Novel Series I have been working on for 5 years, and I hope to publish in the next year, and the Main Wip I will work on and talk about on this blog (Tags: #elliatcot, #ellia tcot, #ellia's tcot, #the cursed one's throne)

J&R - (Placeholder Title) - High fantasy Adventure with Sass, spunk, and a heck of a lot of conflict (To be turned into a comic one day)

StF - (Steel and Feathers) - StF is a High Fantasy project about a Chosen one And stuff (Tags: #stf, #elliastf, #ellia'sstf, #ellia stf, #ellia stf)

Fallen - (That's the title) - A High Fantasy Romance between a Runaway Noble and a Disgraced (probably Criminal) (Tags: #elliafallen, #ellia'sfallen, #ellia fallen, #ellia's fallen, #rustpearl)

StF Short story Masterpost!

Alkain - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Raavas - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 3.5

Old Pinned post Copy-paste below (followed by my moots)

------------------------------------ Hey there! Hi! You! Tumblr user!

Are you a fan of epic fantasy? Want a story with romance, action, and sassy heroes and villains? How about some good old-fashioned ANGST?

If so, you're in luck! Get ready for the upcoming release of The Cursed One's Throne (TCOT for short), coming... well, eventually!

A story of trauma, war, recovery, trust, and love intertwined with curses, magic, sacrifice, and a few too little hours of sleep. Who needs a release date when you've got me, the very entertaining author, right?

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

Wtf is TCOT?

TCOT sneak Peek

Worldbuilding

Music

TCOT Ships

Post this comes from

✨️Moots✨️💫

@agirlandherquill - HER WORDS ARE ART, GO FOLLOW NOW

@aredeemantagonist - Fun to talk to! AMAZING IDEASSS

@artsandstoriesandstuff - AWESOME ARTIST WITH AMAZINGLY CREATIVE IDEAS, FOLLOW THEM NOW!!!

@bigwipscholar - Yes

@bloodmoonloveletter - Slay

@blue-kyber - READ IT ALL

@corinneglass - Why is she so amazing and sweet?!??!? I do not deserve her 😔

@cosmolumine - Extremely Creative with wonderful ideas you can't help but get hooked on :]

@cybercelestian - I don't talk to her as much as I'd like to, but I live her <333

@darkandstormydolls - AN AMAZING WRITER, Her research on medieval clothing and settings is really cool and useful too! <3

@fantastictrashpolice - I need to talk to her more often too because she is very sweet and wonderful <3

@homelessnerdwrites - Very kind and wonderful, and I don't think I've seen any of her writing yet but she still ROCKS!!!

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@pastellbg - A Wonderful artist and friend all of you Need to follow!!!! (Slay Queen)

@phoenixradiant - His ideas and writing is amazing and poetic in EVERY SINGLE WORD he chooses

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@sunflowerrosy - Why does she follow me, I am so LAME?!?@?@?

@sunglasses-in-the-bentley - My beloved adopted daughter who deserves all the attention :]]]

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If you made it all the way to the end, have a wonderful day, don't forget to drink water, have a little snack, sleep, take a walk, and Don't forget that I love you :] <3333

[bullet-prooflove]

Hallmark!Series Part Six: Compromise: Mike Duarte x Reader

Tagging: @resonmalvo @@littleone65 @thesandbeneathmytoes @mydarkestsecretlol @evee87 @wooshwastaken @hearthockey @justreblogginfics @rosaliedepp @thatesqcrush @storiesofsvu @whateversomethingbruh @burningpeachpuppy @legit9thlunaticwarrior @kiwiithecrazybird @spooky-pomegranate @telepathay @weiwei0210 @spaghettificationandpretzels @plaidbooks @misscharlielulu @witches-unruly-heart @magic-multicolored-miracle @cycat4077 @deekaag @cixrosie @upsteadlogic @imaginecrushes @anime-weeb-4-life @hey-dw @alwaysachorusgirl @telepathay @nu1freakshow

Hallmark (feat: Mike Duarte) - Joe watches you fall in love with another man.

Be With Me (feat: Mike Duarte) - Joe tells you how he feels.

Placeholder (feat: Mike Duarte)  - Mike fears he’s a placeholder.

Think About It (feat: Mike Duarte) - Joe recalls what happened the night of Fin's engagement party.

Positive - Mike finds out about what happened between you and Joe.

You’re five months pregnant when Mike next lays eyes on you. You look radiant, your skin is glowing, and you have a small baby bump that your palm rests on as you order a decaf tea from the coffee kiosk by the courthouse. It’s a sign that you’re taking your pregnancy seriously because he’s never known you to drink a decaf anything.

“Let me get that.” Mike says handing over a folded bill after he submits his own order.

He’s coming off an overnight stakeout, running on fumes. There’s a bail hearing you’re both attending in an hour, and he hasn’t had time to run home. He wished he’d at least taken the time to shave before travelling over to Manhattan.

“Can we talk?” He asks you, handing you your drink before gesturing towards the bench opposite the kiosk.

“You did buy me a drink, so I figure I owe you a couple of minutes.” You say with a small smile.

You take a seat alongside of Mike, your hip bumping lightly against his. You miss being in his proximity, the security that comes with being in his presence. You miss him. His smile, his laugh, the way he used to touch you like you were the most precious thing in his world.

“How’s the baby?” He asks you, his thumb playing over the lid of his takeaway cup.

“She is happy and healthy.” You say placing a hand upon your bump. “She’s started kicking recently so that’s fun at three in the morning.”

“You’re having a girl.” Mike says, his lips pursed together into a firm line. “Velasco must be happy.”

“He is and he isn’t.” You say softly, you palm smoothing over your stomach. “I think he thought that once you were out of the picture we’d get together and play happy families…”

“It didn’t work out that way?” Mike asks, taking a sip from his coffee.

“I don’t love him.” You say, cradling your drink to your chest. “Not the way he wants me too. We’ve decided to co-parent instead.”

“How is that going to work?” Mike says, his thumb skimming over the ridges of the cardboard cup.

“We’re still figuring things out.” You tell Mike, with a sigh. “He wants to be involved as much as possible and he has a right to that.”

“But…” Mike prompts because this man knows you better than anyone else, he can sense there’s something else, it sits just bennet the surface of the conversation.

“I draw the line at letting him move in when the baby comes.” You tell Mike. “He read on a website it’s the best thing to do if both parents are amicable.”

Mike laughs bitterly, tilting his head up towards the sky.

“Of course, he did.”

“He’s not wrong.” You explain. “It is recommended for the first few months so that the father has the same opportunity to bond with the baby. I just didn’t envision that I’d end up with a baby and a roommate.”

There’s silence between the two of you before Mike swallows hard against the ache in his chest.

“We really fucked things up, didn’t we?” He says with a mirthless smile.

“No, I did.” You correct him, popping the plastic lid off your cup. “I was insecure, I heard a rumour you were seeing someone else; I should have come to you about it, I was going to, but you got that call out…”

It’s not an excuse, you know it isn’t. You had been hurt at the time because you’d thought things between the two of you were getting serious, only to find out he was supposedly fucking someone else. Then Joe had looked into your eyes, someone who wanted you unconditionally and you’d ended up fucking him in the bathroom, conceiving his baby.

“You know it’s been three months, and I still can’t get you out of my head.” Mike says quietly, toying with his empty cup. “I still love you, I’m still in love with you…I know it’s complicated, that I told you I didn’t want children but she’s your daughter, she’s a part of you and I know if we decide to give this another shot, I will love her like she’s my own.”

“What about Joe?” You ask him, tilting your head so that you can study the profile of his face. “He’s her father, he’s going to be in our lives. If you want us to move forward, you need to get on board with that. I can’t have any animosity around the baby, she’ll pick up on it.”

“I will find a way to make peace.” Mike says, his voice tight because when he thinks about Velasco’s hands on you, he still wants to murder the other man.

“It’s going to be a lot of compromising and it’s not just us anymore. Are you sure this is what you want?” You ask him softly.

Mike reaches over and takes your hand. His thumb traces over your ring finger and he smiles to himself because this isn’t the way he saw the relationship going but the two of you are anything but conventional.

“I love you.” He tells you. “It doesn’t get much simpler than that.”

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[hislaevv]

avatar men as mean bfs ๑

note: Them being shitty boyfriends. Dickhead!Ao’nung x reader. Dickhead!Neteyam x reader. Dickhead!Lo’ak x reader. Trigger warning. Dubcon. Cheating. Gaslighting. Voyeurism.

If you’re wondering why I haven’t included Rotxo, he’s too sweet to be mean 😕 he would never.

Ao’nung

Much to your boyfriends dismay, you decided to tag along during boys night. Everyone was sitting by a fire, chatting and laughing with one another until their eyes were suddenly on Ao’nungs prying fingers, which were uncomfortably close to the inside of your beaded skirt. There was an attempt to pry his hands off, but you’re weak in comparison.

“Ao?” you search his face for answers only to be met with a deadpanned stare in response. Ao’nung didn’t seem to mind the audience, and he knew you were only crying wolf because of the dampness beginning to grow under his touch, it was disgusting how wet you were for him despite place and time.

“Shut up and take it”

Neteyam

Its been days since you’ve last seen him, the war party arrived almost a week ago and he’s yet to come visit you.

Today you’ve taken it upon yourself to march your tail over to his hut. Once inside, the air is as cold as the atmosphere. Your boyfriend is across the room, replacing his bandages over a nasty battle scar.

Neteyam notices you, shooting an annoyed look that goes as soon as it comes. He didn’t have time for you, you were extra baggage and he can’t remember for the life of him why he decided to date you.

Nevertheless he plasters a smile, one that you loved so much. As future olo’eyktan he is obligated to his image as perfect son, perfect soldier, perfect brother, and so perfect boyfriend is not an exception.

“Hello, ma’yawne”

Lo’ak

You cant say you didn’t see it coming, you always assumed it would happen sooner or later.

“Lo’ak, what the hell?”

The Omatikayan girl, which you fail to recognize, races out of his hut not even bothering to pick up her discarded ‘tweng off the floor.

With a huge sigh Lo’ak turns to face you, a half assed apology already forming on the tip of his tongue, “baby look, I have needs that you aren’t exactly looking out to fulfill. She was a placeholder until you were ready for me, alright? But I’m sorry and it won’t happen again, I promise”.

He cups your jaw, reveling in the tears that start to fall on your pretty grief stricken face. He gives you the most chaste of kisses, a sick part of him silently hoped you taste her on him.

[aceghosts]

WIP Wednesday

Hey Everybody! I was tagged by @carlosoliveiraa, @captmactavish, @alexxmason, @cassietrn, @cloudofbutterflies92, @nightbloodbix, and others I'm probably missing, lol.

Tagging (Opt In/Out): @bbrocklesnar, @marivenah, @amalkavian, @clicheantagonist, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @voidika, @confidentandgood, @theelderhazelnut, @direwombat, @captastra, @strangefable, @katsigian, @inafieldofdaisies, @simplegenius042, and anyone else who wants to do this!

Since I'm procrastinating about posting Rooney and Yorinobu's first real conversation due to a bad case of perfectionism, I've been working on some prompts/taking some screenshots. This first snippet is from early on in CP2077 after Rooney and Yorinobu cross paths again. And despite being an ex, Rooney is worried for him:

“I am fine,” He dismisses with a wave of his hand, “Any update on the Relic?” “Yorinobu, you look like shit. Seriously, when did you last sleep?” He adores many things about Rooney, but once they focus on something, it is nearly impossible to draw their attention away. They won’t let go until they get an answer, and Yorinobu is not in the mood to deal with this. “I do not pay you to worry about my health. I pay you to find the Relic. I will ask again:-“ “I’m not asking because you pay me,” Rooney sounds frustrated, digging their heels in, “I’m asking because I care, and apparently, you do need someone to worry about your health. Doesn't look like Hanako or anyone else at Arasaka is doing it.”

The second prompt is definitely keeping with the trend of Rooney and Yorinobu being relentless flirts with each other. While I've kept this snippet relatively PG, this prompt is gonna be nsfw. I'll probably do another taglist for anyone who wants to be tagged in stuff like that; I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. Anyway, here is the second snippet (Please ignore the placeholder name; It's not important, lol):

“Is that what I am? A distraction?” He asks playfully, pressing a kiss to the corner of their jaw, “You should teach me a lesson for being so distracting.” Damnit, it almost works on them. Everyone knew that under all the tough exterior, Rooney was a softie for the people they love, especially Yorinobu. “Yori, you know I didn’t mean it like that; I really need to focus right now.” They really want to get up to whatever trouble he’s cooked up in his head, but duty calls. “Understood,” He acquiesces with no hard feelings, “Please promise that you’ll make time for us tomorrow night. We need to go to the [Name]’s party.”

Also, I am continuing to mess around in photomode. I'm not feeling great about any of my shots, but I thought I would share two that I kind of liked of Rooney:

I'm also not feeling great about my Rooney/Yorinobu shots either, but I did figure out how to get into the Arasaka Estate and took some Rooney/Yorinobu shots there, lol:

[madamefluffnstuff]

Snippet Sunday

I have run out of spoons to work on any ESO stuff and have no more ideas for the current ESO wips I have, so last week I decided to try my hand at BG3 again. This time platonic fluff with Astarion. Still very messy and the bare bones of a beginning but hey- progress is progress. 👌

Tagged by @hircines-hunter, thank you friend for keeping me as motivated as one can be 💜💜

~~~~~~~~~~

Astarion stared at the wall across from the rented bed in the tavern and sighed. He was in a whole other world, only slightly aware of his current surroundings. Perhaps he subconsciously knew he was safe in this little hamlet inn and could let his guard down. The rest of the party members were in the next room, anyway. Showing weakness around them was not on his priority list. Being in the wilds for so long, the moment they got to their rooms, the snoring started. Astarion almost wished he could fall asleep that quickly anymore. If he could at all. Tav, however, was not in either room; she had stepped out to grab supplies. What that supplies was, however, was anyone's guess; the party had just restocked at the market. Astarion's ear twitched a little as he heard a door close downstairs, and Tav's familiar footsteps on the floorboards. (Placeholder) Tav toed the door open and shimmied herself in. She had her hands full, but was doing an impressive job of not dropping anything. She had a small stack of papers in one hand, an ink pot and quill in the other, and a tiny box with wax seal components tucked under her arm against her ribs. To her credit, she managed to close the door without too much noise. The look on her face as she nearly jumped out of her skin when she saw Astarion watching her almost made him laugh. "Oh, hello there, darling," he leaned back and purred. "Staying up late again?" "I... yes. I have... a lot of... correspondences. To catch up on," Tav tried to regain her composure and not drop her tools. "I haven't had much time to catch up on letters and such." Astarion hummed and sat up a little straighter. "Writing letters? At this time of night? What could possibly be so important it couldn't wait until morning, sweet?" A slight teasing tone, expertly practiced, masked the curiosity.

[thehatchetfieldfiles]

hi! this is a project that i'm starting, my main blog is @edsearring (pronouns are he/they)

header and pfp are placeholders until i figure out logos and stuff

i'm making a series about a video essay by a character in the same universe as hatchetfield but outside of it. they start by doing a true crime podcast based on the events of npmd, but very rapidly go way deeper into it. peip will be involved here somehow

this is VERY much a wip (i just started writing) but more updates will be here

anything out of character will be tagged as #ooc and if i make any in character posts or post the next episode here it will be tagged as #the narrator.

also i'm on instagram @ thehatchetfieldfiles

thanks sm to everyone on the blinky's rewatch party discord server for support and offering to help

credits:

@un-deserts-your-bluffs - beta reader

[imfinereallyy]

🧡Oh hey there!🧡

Welcome to ✨my blog✨. I'm Rae and I'm just trying my best here. My main topic here is Steddie and Stranger Things all around. I have completely spiraled and hyper fixated on it since Volume 1, and it's been consuming my brain ever since. This post is mainly to say hi!, let you know a few things and give you access to my main posts.

Let this be known as a safe space (especially for the LGBTQ+ community) and I will not tolerate hate. This is a place for kindness and creativity.

I love making friends so feel free to message me, or send me prompts! 🥰

Some of my writing does involve mature themes, so keep that in mind while scrolling. I am 24, and despite feeling like I'm stuck at 16 some days, I am an adult. So please proceed with caution when necessary. I will try my best to properly tag things.

If you want to check out my work on ao3, which has a mix of stuff from tumblr and new stuff, you can click here.

Here is the masterlist of my fics so far! *updated 7/26/23 completely, in process of update 4/26/24

Series:

Father Figures (completed and available on ao3)

pt. 1

pt. 2

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) 🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ (ongoing)

pt. 1

pt. 2

pt. 3

pt. 4

Tattooed Steve (ongoing)

pt. 1

pt. 2

The Long Con (ongoing) (available on ao3)

pt. 1

pt. 2

Sibling Adventures of El and Steve (ongoing)

(still steddie heavy, and can be read stand-alone, not majorly connected)

Dad's going to be angry

Sleep Demon

Quality Time

more el and steve

✧˖°.AO3 FICS✧˖°.

Craved Oblivion Series (Hunger Games AU) *ongoing*

A Martyr's Lullaby *completed*

tbd

tbd

Better Late than Never (Just Don't Make Me Wait Forever) 

But You'll Have This Place to Call Home, Always 

Father Figures 

The Long Con *ongoing*

Huggin' and a-kissin', dancin' and a-lovin'

One Shots:

Say "I love you" before you go

Father's Day

Good Morning

Is This Okay?

First Kiss

“You Hurt Me” (real title pending)

Take the Crisis Back

Emergency Kiss

Deja Vu

Drugs are Kicking in

Eavesdropping

Placeholders

Celebrate Softly

After the Beep

Track 7

Birthday Parties and Secret Signals

(these are more popular ones/or really recent ones I have too many to list! There are plenty more in my blog if you’re curious. Most should be tagged with #mywriting or #writingprompts)

I also have plenty of writing prompts, as my brain runs a mile a minute, and I adore it when people feel inspired by my writing so feel free to explore.

I hope you enjoy! Get comfy and stay awhile :)

Things I would like to note: Homophobia, Transphobia, Sexism, Racism, etc. are absolutely not tolerated here. As stated earlier the idea is to create a safe space for everyone. If I or anyone that interacts with my blog upsets you, please don't feel shy to message me. My asks (with anon) and messages are open, even if it's just to chat (also keep in mind once again I am an adult). Don't bully the children either, they are just trying their best. Please and thank you. 💖

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Find the word

Thanks to @bookish-karina here and here and @somethingclevermahogony here!

My words: old, new, borrowed, blue, gentle, pretend, stars, secret, rob, cradle, monster, and gaunt.

Your words: launch, admire, short, reckless

Tagging @aziz-reads @talesofsorrowandofruin @i-can-even-burn-salad @space-writes @drchenquill

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites

Keep reading for:

Maddie is proud of her reference

William's formula works

Ash wants telepathic theory books

Robbie just punched Jason

Party planning

Lexi is unhappy

Rose, in between dimensions

Kirsten talking to Lexi and Maddie's mom

Yes, I used a name for this

The only time I've used this word was in shitty MCU fanfic that I feel sick talking about so here's the shortest excerpt

Placeholder video game

Old - from The Secret Portal Part One (Maddie POV)

“Well,” said Noelle, biting her knuckle, “this rock being a portal doesn’t sound too logical.” “Logical?” I repeated. “Okay, Mr. Spock, what’s so logical about walking through a wall and ending up here.” I smirked at my reference to one of the old sci-fi shows I watched with Lexi for the past year.

New - from The Secret Portal Part One

William slowly poured the new formula, sparkling with speedsters’ lightning, onto the frozen insect. He clutched the tablet—containing all of his notes, the ingredients to his formula, his observations, the past month of his life—against his body. He tapped the side rapidly, anxiety taking hold. Slowly, the insect’s wings began to flap.

Borrowed - from The Secret Portal Part One

“You’re dressed as Dr. David Pinchên.” Carla looked down at her sweater vest and khakis. “Wait, isn’t that the telepathic theory guy?” Ash asked. Carla nodded. “Hey, can I borrow some of his books?” “Sure,” said Carla. “Thanks,” said Ash.

Blue - from The Secret Portal Part One (Robbie POV)

Jason stood up straighter, rubbing his jaw, his steely blue eyes locked on me with a look that could kill. Still, I didn’t regret the action. Yeah, I shouldn’t have done it, but who gave a shit? I may not have been a hero, but justice was justice.

Gentle - from The Secret Portal Part One

“I programmed the replicators with Jedi with some cookie recipes, so kinda,” said Noelle as Sam dragged her into the main room. Noelle reluctantly allowed herself to be led by Sam, who was obviously being as gentle as possible with the gesture, as Sam explained how she and Lexi planned all of the games.

Pretend(ing) - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

My smile faded as my stomach dropped to my shoes. I turned the lock on my locker, pretending I didn’t notice. Or at least make it seem like I didn’t care. I eavesdropped. Obviously.

Stars - from The Secret Portal Part One (Rose POV)

Space. I thought. Maybe it just resembled space—I’d never been, so how’d I know? I thought the little white dots were stars, poking out from behind the brilliant pinks and greens weaving around me. I was breathing heavily—there was air.

Secret - from The Secret Portal Part One

Kirsten sighed on the other end. “I’m sorry, that was unplanned. But do you want Lexi to keep a secret from her sister for two years? I’m honestly surprised Maddie found the Gateway. One could only imagine how they managed to walk in the right spot. Besides, they had to find out about themselves eventually.”

Rob - from The Secret Portal Part One (Gwen POV)

“Rob, where’s Niri?” Jazlyn asked as she and Ewan came over. “Uhhh…” said Robbie, looking around the large room, “I… don’t know. Either the pool or his room.” Jazlyn sighed, but didn’t seem upset. “Of course. Even though he promised we’d practice together.” Her gaze landed on me as she blew a bubble of gum I didn’t realize she’d been chewing on.

Cradle(s) - from "Just One Moment"

My other hand still cradles his cheek.

Monster - from The Secret Portal Part One (Lexi POV)

I followed Robbie’s avatar as he showed me the ropes of the game. “Watch out, Lexi, there’s a monster!” “I see that!” I practically attacked my phone screen as I had my character use a few sword swipes at the ghoul in front of me. “Ahhhh!” Maddie screamed with me until the ghoul was dead.

Gaunt - N/A

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Martyrs and Kings - Chapter 14

The Bridges We Burn

Rating: Mature/18+/Minors DNI

Pairing: Kix x archivist/historian OFC

Wordcount: 2.8k

Warnings: angst; mature language; SMUT; minimal prep; PIV; biting; cum eating

Start here | Previous chapter | Epilogue | Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

Every window of Maree’s flat was thrown open to let in the early morning breeze. It was midsummer, and before many hours passed, Republic City would be sweltering, but for now the air was still cool and crisp. The curtains billowed gently into the room, distracting Maree as she packed up the last few crates of her belongings. She could smell the ocean: fresh and salty today, with no trace of the stench that had plagued the city a few weeks earlier. She stood for a moment, breathing in the familiar scent as she gazed around the empty room. She swallowed down the tightness in her throat.

This place had been her home for over a decade. She’d bought the flat a year after she was hired at the Archive, and she had made so many memories inside these walls. In this flat, she’d hosted dinner parties, birthday parties, engagement parties, holiday parties, going-away parties. She’d had sleepovers with Valsi when they had caroused a little too enthusiastically. She and her friends had watched every Equinox Day sunsail race from her balcony for the past twelve years. She had scrubbed the stain out of the carpet from the time when Tane had sloshed his wine glass while arguing with a friend over whether it would be easier to fight one astromech-sized mouse droid or ten mouse-droid-sized astromechs. She’d blasted glimmik music and danced triumphantly through every room in the flat the day her first book manuscript was accepted. 

It was the first home where she’d been able to decorate exactly how she wanted, without having to negotiate with roommates or beg permission from a landlord. She had painted the walls in her favorite colors, and painted them again when she decided the original effect was too busy. 

And now those walls were bare, stripped of all her paintings and mirrors, without even nails left as placeholders for the missing decor. The holes had been patched and repainted, the artwork sold or packed away and shipped to her mothers’ home for storage and safekeeping until Maree found another place to call home. If she ever did.

The flat belonged to someone else now. A stranger. Maree had only until the end of the day to finish removing her belongings and hand over the security codes to her realtor. The buyer would take possession the next day, and then it would be their turn to make all of the memories and choices and mistakes that were inevitable in the process of turning a flat into a home.

Only a few items remained to be packed. Maree reached for one blindly, and her heart gave a little lurch as she recognized the datapad Kix had given her. She wrapped it carefully in a scarf and tucked it into the crate. After that, there were just some holoframes and other delicate items left, and then she sealed the crate and stacked it with the rest of the items to be picked up by the moving company. They were due to arrive any minute, and once they were gone, Maree would take a taxi to Valsi’s home, where she would spend her last night on Hosnian Prime before catching a shuttle to Adelphi the next day.

The door chimed, startling her. The movers, she realized, and went to open the door. But it was not the movers.

Kix’s hair was a little longer, his beard a little fuller. He looked a little thinner, and the shadows under his eyes were etched a little deeper, but his eyes were just as piercing as she remembered as the morning sun glinted in their honeyed depths. 

She stared at him wordlessly for a moment, and then stood back to admit him. He stepped over the threshold and curiously surveyed the empty room.

“I’d offer you a seat, but I already sold all the furniture,” Maree said.

“You’re really leaving, then.” His voice was gruff.

“Yep,” she said. “Quit my job and torched the bridge in a spectacular fashion. How did you hear that I’d left the Archive?”

“I, er, called your office,” he said. “To apologize for—well, everything. I tried your comm channel, but it didn’t go through.”

“It was provided by the Library,” she said. “I had to get a new channel when I left.”

Kix nodded. “Well, Teejay told me you were no longer with the Library.” He looked uncomfortable. “The droid had a few choice words for me. It seems to hold me personally responsible for your leaving.”

Maree laughed shortly. “Sounds about right. Teejay thrives on routine and hates change. A new boss is going to be a big adjustment. All that frustration has to go somewhere; I guess you were just a convenient target.”

“I’m used to droids aiming at me,” Kix said.

“Is that clone humor?” Maree asked with a tiny smile.

“Maybe,” he replied. “What will you do now?” 

She shrugged. “I’ll figure it out. I doubt I’ll be coming back to Hosnian Prime. There’s nothing for me here. I’ll need to buy a ship at some point. Hopefully I got enough from selling the flat to cover the cost.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t already have one,” he said.

“I never traveled enough to make it worth the docking fees,” she said.

“Will you miss it here?” he asked.

“I’ll miss Valsi. And the spiced biscuits,” she added. “It’s going to take me a while to find anything to replace them in the Outer Rim.”

“You should stock up before you leave,” he said.

“I had a better idea,” she said. “I got the bakery to give me the recipe. Now all I have to do is learn how to bake.”

“Resourceful,” he said.

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Kix stared around the empty flat, looking anywhere except Maree’s eyes.

“Why are you here, Kix?” she asked at last.

“I came because—” his voice broke, and he cleared his throat. “Because Quiggold told me what the captain tried to do. I felt like I owed you an apology. And… an explanation. ”

“You don’t owe me anything,” she said. “I was just doing my job.”

“And what about the rest?” he asked. 

“You don’t need to worry about that,” she replied. “I was never under any delusion that I was anything more than a convenient hookup. I’m a big girl. I know how the galaxy works.”

“You’re wrong,” he said bluntly. 

Maree’s eyes widened. “I am?”

“Yes. I’ve been drowning for the past year, and when I met you, my feet touched solid ground.”

Her breath caught. “Kix—”

“Your favorite color is green,” he said.

She blinked. “What?”

“Not just any green. It’s a vibrant, sap green. The color of the moss that grows on river rocks in the springtime. The color of leaves, just starting to open after the long winter.”

“How did you know that?” she asked.

“Every painting in your office and your home had a touch of that color. Your napkins, your pillows, your favorite mug. You never wear it, though. Why is that?” he asked.

“It doesn’t suit me,” she said. “But I still love it.”

She didn’t know what else to say, or why he was here, or what he expected from her, and an awkward silence descended once again as she waited for him to speak. After a long pause, he took a deep breath.

“Maree, I’m nobody,” he said. “Even when I was a soldier, I had nothing except my honor. Now I’m a pirate, and I don’t even have that.”

“Don’t say things like that,” Maree protested. “It’s not true. It’s not even close to true!”

“Please, just listen,” he begged, and she fell silent. “I didn’t think you would want to leave everything you’ve built to go slum it on a pirate ship. But then Reveth told me what you said. About how you didn’t want to take the choice away from me. And I realized that’s exactly what I did to you when I left without telling you how I feel about you. And when I heard you’d left the Archive, I knew I’d made the biggest mistake of my life.”

“Kix, I—”

“I know I don’t have much to offer,” he said hurriedly. “Nothing that could compete with all this. But if you come with me, I swear to you, I will spend the rest of my life doing everything in my power to make sure you don't regret it.”

“Oh, love, I would never—”

“I can give you firsthand accounts of the Clone Wars. I can show you Separatist bases that haven’t been touched since the war ended. You could still do your research. You wouldn’t have to give up your dream, I could help you make it come true, I swear—”

“Kix!” she interrupted sternly. “Stop. Talking.”

He stammered to a halt, his eyes wide, as Maree stood on her tiptoes to grab his shoulders and pull him down into a kiss. His hands rested for a moment on her hips, and then with a groan, he wrapped his arms around her body and pulled her tightly against him. He kissed her as if his life depended on it. When at last they broke apart, he gazed into her eyes and stroked her face, holding her close, cradling her body as if she were some delicate, precious thing that he could not bear to part with.

“Does this mean you’ll consider it?” he asked.

“No,” she said. “It means I’ve already decided.”

“You have?” he asked, and his eyes lit with hope.

“Yes,” she said, pulling him down for another kiss. “My mother won’t be delighted to hear I’ve taken up with a pirate, but she’s retired from the Ranger Corps now, so she’s at least somewhat less likely to come gunning for us.”

“How does she feel about clones?” he asked.

“She’ll love you. Just like I do.”

All his breath left in a rush, and he stared at her. “Say that again.”

“Baba probably won’t hunt us down—”

“Don’t tease me,” he said, and kissed her. “You know what I mean.”

“I do,” she said. “And I meant what I said. I love you, Kix.”

“I think I loved you from the moment I saw you,” he confessed. “I never could have hoped you would feel the same way.”

“My love,” she murmured, kissing his forehead. “My sweet, sweet boy.” She kissed down his temple, to his cheek, and finally his lips. “Of course I do.”

Kix slid his hands up Maree’s back, savoring the way her body molded against him beneath the smooth fabric of her dress. He could scarcely believe that this was real, that she was actually here with him, her lips pressed against his, her tongue moving deliciously in his mouth, her sighs of pleasure warm against his skin. It was a dream, or a fantasy—it must be. 

He clutched her tightly to himself, afraid that if he loosened his hold, she would slip away and disappear. But her hands felt solid and real as they roamed over his arms and shoulders, and nothing he could ever imagine could feel as incredible as the way she tangled her fingers in his hair. He broke away from her lips and kissed his way down her throat, slipping his hand around to cup her breast. 

She whimpered as his teeth scraped over a particularly sensitive spot, but as he reached for the hem of her skirt, she gasped, “Wait!”

He stilled immediately, pulling back so he could see her face. Her hair was mussed, her lips were swollen, and her eyes were hazy with desire, and it took every shred of self-control he possessed not to pull her back into his arms and devour her.

“What is it?” he asked.

“The movers!” she said.

“Movers?” he asked blankly.

“They’ll be here any minute, and I am NOT getting interrupted again, Kix, I swear to gods, every time we do this, somebody kriffing walks in on us, and—”

He kissed her, and whatever she was planning to add to that sentence disappeared into a wanton moan. He gripped her hips and pulled her against him, and when she rolled her pelvis against his achingly hard cock, he nearly came in his pants.

“On second thought, we can lock the door,” she said, coming up for air.

“Let’s do that,” he agreed.

She pulled away from his embrace and hurried to the door, slapping the lock button on the control panel. Kix followed close behind, and when she turned to face him, he pinned her against the door and kissed her until she was breathless and wild and making the sweetest karking sounds he’d ever heard. She fumbled at his belt, and he felt the waistband loosen, and then she shoved her hand down the front of his pants, not even bothering to push them down. 

“Oh, fuck,” he groaned as her nimble little fingers wrapped around his cock. “Fuck yes, oh kark, I missed you so kriffing much.”

“I missed you,” she breathed, and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes.

Kix’s heart shattered. He cupped her face in his hands and brushed away the tears, then pressed his lips to her face, scattering kisses everywhere he could reach until he washed away every trace of hurt and sadness in her eyes. 

“Kix?” she whispered.

“Hmm?”

“This is nice, but if you aren’t inside me in the next ten seconds, I will not be held responsible for my actions.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said dutifully, yanking up the hem of her skirt and tugging the thin lace of her underwear aside. The fabric was soaked through, and he hissed in a deep breath when he dragged his fingers across her slippery, swollen clit.

She pushed down the waistband of his briefs just far enough to free his cock and line him up with her entrance. He hooked a hand behind her thigh and lifted it to wrap around his waist, and then he pushed into her. Holy fuck, she was tight. He hadn’t prepped her, and his cock only went in partway. He paused and started to withdraw.

“Don’t stop,” she gasped.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes!” she cried. “God damn it, Kix, fuck me now!”

His control snapped, and he bit down savagely on her neck as he thrust into her two more times, and then he was fully inside. A ragged, animalistic groan ripped from her throat, and she levered herself against him, wrapping her other leg around him and hooking her feet behind his back as he pounded her into the door. He gripped her ass, supporting her weight as he drove into her again and again. Each thrust of his cock punched the air from her lungs until she was a gasping, sobbing wreck, unable to form words.

His heart raced, his legs began to spasm, and he shifted, bringing a hand around to press on her clit and fucking into her with short, rapid strokes. She tightened around him until he thought he was going to pass out, and then she shattered with a scream. The violence of her orgasm nearly pushed his cock out of her pussy, but he rammed into her, fucking her through it, and within seconds, his vision went blank as pleasure exploded through his body, and he came hard, jetting hot spurts of cum into her cunt.

He buried his face against her neck and breathed in her scent as he gasped for air. Slowly, his consciousness returned, and he eased her legs down from his waist. She shuddered against him, and he wrapped his arms around her until her breathing stabilized. Kark, he’d missed the scent of her hair. He inhaled deeply and kissed her head. Then he kissed her again. And again and again, traveling down her body until he knelt before her.

His cum had started to drip down her thighs, and he lifted her skirt carefully, making sure to keep the fabric away from his mess. He leaned forward and stroked his tongue gently across her skin, licking her clean, and then he dipped into her, keeping his tongue soft and his touches light to avoid overstimulating her. She threaded her fingers through his hair and cupped his head, breathing quiet, passionate sighs. When he finished, he carefully put her back together, arranging her skirts perfectly and brushing away the worst of the wrinkles.

She sank to her knees next to him, and he sat down against the wall and pulled her onto his lap. He stroked her hair softly, guiding her head to rest against his shoulder. 

“Your floor is really hard,” he said.

“Yeah. Next time, we should fuck somewhere with furniture.”

“So high maintenance,” he teased.

“Sadly true,” she sighed. “I require a bed. Maybe even a chair.”

“Ridiculous,” he said. “Next you’ll be telling me you want a sofa.”

“Regretting your choice so soon?” she asked.

He huffed a laugh against her hair. “Never.”

---

Epilogue

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