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thebestsetter · 5 months ago

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"If I was a color, I think I'd be yellow"

"Why?"

"Non-important. I just feel it"

He has never seen yellow the same way again. It was everywhere. He looked for it everywhere. And everytime, without fail, he remembered you. A pretty sunflower. Your blinding smile. A little minion figure he saw on the mall. You crying after watching the latest "Despicable Me" movie (and him laughing at your cute stupid crying face). A silly Winnie the Pooh keychain on a crying child's backpack. You talking to the said sad kid you both saw on the street and trying to cheer them up, playing with them and making sure they were smiling, their worries melting away in the speed of light (you'd make such a great mother, he thinks, making his face grow bright red right after). The sun in all of it's glory. You. You. You. You.

You were like a plague infecting his brain and soul. He couldn't focus on anything anymore because you were always running through his head, the sound of your laugh playing inside his mind 24/7 and driving him half insane. He couldn't take it anymore. He had to ask you why you said to him you were yellow. How did you know? What made you so sure of it? Why you had put him under this spell in which everytime he catches just the smallest and quickest glimpse of yellow, the image of you came flooding his mind and senses? Did you even think about him the same amount of times he thought about you? He didn't know. He couldn't know unless he asked you. And it was not fair. Not fair at all.

"Remember that day you told me you were yellow?"

"Yeah" you said, stopping mid-sip of your milkshake and looking at him with your beautiful a confused face "Yeah, I do. Why?"

"You never gave me an answer to the question I asked you that day" he ignored how the first sentence you said made his heart fluster and his stomach go silly.

"Which question?" How humilliating. He's gonna have to swallow his pride and repeat it. Utterly ridiculous.

"Why?" He couldn't care less about how hurt his ego was right now "Actually, how. How did you know you're yellow?"

"Easy. It's 'cause yellow and purple are opposites, so they look good when put together"

"What?"

"Yellow and purple are on opposite sides of the color wheel, silly! So they're complementary colors and go well together"

"I know that. But what does purple have to do with you being yellow?"

"You remind me of purple"

And suddenly, he realized yellow has never been alone. Next to the beautiful sunflower, there's a bellflower, that looks gloom when compared to the yellow plant, but basks in the joy it seems to bring nonetheless. Just like you are the one to bring joy to his life. Beside the minion figure, there's a figure of those bad purple minions, and while one is considered pretty, funny and nice, the other one is scary, angry and people tend to avoid them. It reminds him of you two: extroverted and kind you and introverted and rude him. Perfect opposites. Perfect together. He hadn't noticed before, but the child's backpack was purple, and this memory was followed by the the sound of the laughs you and the little fella shared. Kids should always be happy, smiling, harmless and having fun. Comfortable. Safe. In that way, you make him feel like a little kid. Your warm embrace, so protective and oh so motherly. He feels relaxed around you. Overjoyed. And even though he doesn't smile a lot, you always seem to make him want to crack a real, big grin. It must be a superpower of yours. Lastly, the sun, always followed by the moon. Even though they don't "meet" often, when they do, they create one of the prettiest phenomena known to humanity: an eclipse. They're always apart, but when they're together, it's so beautiful that the whole world stops to see.

"That's cringy. And kinda stupid."

"No it's not! We're a perfect duo! Just admit it!!"

"'Course we are"

"What did you say? I didn't quite hear you!!"

"I'm not saying it again."

So don't act surprised when your wedding is full of beautiful sunflowers and bellflowers. You should see it coming. They look good together right? Just like you two.

RIN ITOSHI, Kunigami Rensuke, Nagi Seishiro, MICHAEL KAISER, Barou Shohei, SAE ITOSHI, TODOROKI SHOTO, SHINSOU HITOSHI, BAKUGOU KATSUKI, USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI, KAGEYAMA TOBIO, TSUKISHIMA KEI (his name's kanji meaning moon is just so-- perfect fot this fic) , Osamu Miya, Suna Rintarou, MEGUMI FUSHIGURO + any character you think fits this!!

Curiosity!!!: Bellflowers mean "everlasting love and commitment" in flower language, while sunflowers mean steadfast love!!

Masterlist

Wrote this in the middle of my portuguese class. I hate it. I'm in love with him

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bunny-jpeg · 2 months ago

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tulips

max verstappen

cw: smut/pwp, retired!max, wife!reader, pregnancy & marriage, body worship, pregnant!reader, couch sex, cowgirl position, partially clothed sex, intimacy

this bunny lives off of comments & reblogs! feed the rabbit!

carnations (toto wolff) - roses (charles leclerc) (nov. 3) - sunflowers (lando norris) (nov. 3)

retiring after four world championships felt like the best decision for max. he had done everything he could, it was time to move on. time to do other things. he expected retirement to be a nice change of pace from the constant moving of formula one.

but while racing was one thing, expecting a child in a few months was something else. because three months into his retirement from formula one, you got pregnant.

you were barely halfway through it and max was already captivated by your beauty. you had told him that your son was almost three hundred and six grams, but max just wanted to feel the bump. he was amazed by it. it was the end of your fourth month, you were slowly getting the home stretch of it all.

the two of you would have a child soon. a human child, not the two cat children who loved nuzzling your belly as much as your husband did. but where as cats could only nuzzle your belly while you were on the couch, max got to feel more of it.

it was a cloudy afternoon and the two of you didn't want to leave the home you both shared. there was no reason to. with such grey skies and small streaks of light through the windows, it was better to stay home. which meant that max was even closer to you. curled up against you lovingly on the couch.

you tried to get up and max held onto you tighter. you ran your fingers through his blond hair and said, "you're as bad as the cats." then tilted your head to the side to gesture towards the animals lounging in the cat tree.

he sighed and nestled himself further, "want to be close to you." you couldn't blame him, for years his entire life was racing, thinking about racing, marketing for racing, racing, racing, racing. it meant weeks away from you, even if he was in the next country over it felt like he was halfway around the world. the last thing he wanted was to be away from you.

"well, someone is moving against my bladder and i'd like to go to the washroom." you said as you managed to move him a little away from you to get up. you stretched after being seated for so long, your shirt lifted up a little, exposing the underside of your bump.

max smiled with his cheek against the couch. he was almost irresistible, but there were more pressing matters. you headed to the washroom and when you opened the door once more. max was standing there waiting for you.

you chuckled, "max."

"come back to the couch." he said.

you crossed your arms, you wanted to say something but you couldn't stay mad at your husband. so you dropped your arms and kissed him on the cheek, "alright, alright. did you pause the movie at least."

you could joke that max is basically a herding cat, getting his favourite human back onto the couch. you weren't even that pregnant yet, a whole other leg of pregnancy left to go through. but yet he got you on the couch and his lips against your cheek and neck.

"max."

"you took too long." he said softly as his hand palmed your tender breast. which made you moan, which onto got the ball rolling. you used to think that the rumors of women being turned on by pregnancy were a farce. but even now, you yearned for your husband's sexual touch.

"please, my treasure. let me have you."

one thing led to another as he kissed you and soon you were in his lap. your knees on either side of him as you rubbed your hand across his clothed chest. you could almost feel his heartbeat against your palm. if he yearned to be impossibly close to you, then you'd get as close as possible.

"is this comfortable?" max asked as he eyed your almost naked body. you still had your t-shirt on, but your sweatpants and panties were on the floor. your knees are on either side of his thighs. but he looked up at your face, "does it hurt anything?"

you took him by the face and kissed him on the lips. you moaned into the kissed. he placed one hand around his cock and stroked it a few times. you guessed you answered his question. then with a little help, you sank down onto him and felt his cock hit against all the right places.

his cock made you feel warm all over. you clutched onto his clothed shoulders. you rocked your hips against him, he loved the feeling of you against him. you were a heat in his belly as he tried to meet your pace.

it wasn't particularly fast or rough, but it gave you both enough to feel close to each other. max's pushed up the t-shirt wore and roamed his hands across your swollen middle.

"you're beautiful like this." he said softly. his hands rubbed the soft skin, he leaned as best as he could to kiss he top of it, "doing so good for me. getting you pregnant was the best thing that could have ever happened to me." he touched the under belly and his rough fingers across more sensitive area made you moaned and hold onto him tightly.

"shit, max."

he chuckled lowly, "careful, mama. don't want to swear in front of the baby." then leaned up to kiss you on the jaw then the lips. he just thought you were beautiful, even at your lowest moments during the pregnancy. he just thought that you were not only beautiful, but strong. you were working so hard, and max wished there was more for him to do. that was why he wanted to be so close to you, in case you needed anything.

you looked at him for a moment before you started to kiss him once more. the kisses were heavy as you bodies moved together. it excited you, made you hot all over. you moaned an 'i love you' against max's lips as you thrusted up and down against him. he moaned agaisnt your sweet lips and felt hot all over. you were perfect for him. you made him yearn for your closeness at all times.

you were his life. you made everything brighter for him, so of course he was going to praise your body as he should. you were the mother of his child, putting yourself through so much for him.

"you're beautiful. my beautiful wife."

you chuckled a little, "well your beautiful wife is going to blow up like a beach ball."

he held onto your hips tightly and said, "then you'll be the most beautiful beach ball." you hid your face against his neck to hide your stupid smile and small laugh. he really knew how to pull at your heartstrings.

you continued to move against him, your felt your toes curl and the pleasure like a throb in the base of your skull. your chest was heaving as you panted wildly and you felt the flash of heat throughout your body. you tightened your grasp on him and thrusted up and down. your back arched a little bit as you moaned loudly. you came around him and he met your pace to get himself to completion as well.

his grunts were loud as he finished inside of you. then after he came, he let go of you and let you rest against his chest as you try to put yourself back together. but it didn't last long before max had captured your lips with his and his cock perking up once more.

"max."

he replied quietly, "you took too long in the washroom. i missed you too much." before he peppered your face with kisses. at last the second round you made it to the bedroom.

max hoisted the young boy up and held him in his arms. he couldn't believe that nicolas was almost three. it was the first time he was bringing his son to the track, and the first time he himself had been there since the birth of his son.

there was an excitement he felt. while retirement had been kind to him, the rush of being near the track was something ingrained in him. it was all familiar, it had been his home for years. and to share that with your son meant the world to him.

"that's the track." max smiled at his son, the young boy was not even paying attention. his pace started to quicken toward the paddock to see his old friends. he knew he was going to blow the young child's mind by getting him so close to the cars.

"max! slow down!" you called from good distance. max looked over and saw you standing there, beautiful as ever. the maternity clothes hadn't shown their face again because you only found out were expecting again a few weeks ago. but regardless, you didn't want to chase after your husband who was carrying your son.

"mama! i wanna see the track!" your son chirped before max could say anything. he held back a laugh as you gave a look to the both of them.

when the gap was closed between the three of you, you gave your son's cheek a slight pinch, "well i can't have your father running off." then looked at max, "the track isn't going anywhere." then kissed both of your boys.

max didn't regret retiring. to be a good husband and father meant more than any of the trophies and prizes. but, as he watched his son gawked at the cars in the paddock he felt a sense of pride. <3

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 1 month ago

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can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 18

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3 || PART 4 || PART 5 || PART 6 || PART 7 || PART 8 || PART 9 || PART 10 || PART 11 || PART 1 || PART 13 || PART 14 || PART 15 || PART 16 || PART 17

Steve doesn’t see much of Eddie for the next few weeks. Presumably there are still Dungeons and Dragons sessions and band practices, but Steve and Chrissy are no longer invited. Jeff flits back and forth between their two groups like a child of divorce, and Steve? He just misses Eddie.

Eddie, who even once Steve slinks back to his usual seat in the cafeteria for lunch, no longer gives his table top rants. He doesn’t say anything at all, not where Steve might overhear him. But he still has Chrissy, and Robin, and Jeff, and that’s enough.

In his free time, he writes aimless letters destined to never be read.

Steve’s moving on—getting over it is a process, or so he tells Chrissy. He never shows her the letters, can’t bear to see the pity on her face. He doesn’t talk about it with Robin again either–just hides his notebook away and gets on with his life.

Eddie’s just a boy, and it’s just a crush. Steve can move on, he always does. He tells Eddie as much in a letter he’ll never read.

Everything changes when he opens his locker and something drops out. It’s a bright yellow envelope, sloppy sunflowers drawn on the sides with black pen, and there, dead center, is his name written in a handwriting he’d recognize anywhere, is his name. Not Secret Admirer, not even Harrington, just Steve.

He shoves it into his backpack before Robin can close her own locker and notice.

It stays hidden there for the rest of the day as Steve’s heartbeat rabbits away in his chest, and his palms itch with sweat. He doesn’t open it that night either, too afraid of what he might find in it. It’s like that one story Robin had told him, where the guy goes crazy after burying someone under the floorboards or something? It’s calling to him, no matter how hard he plugs his ears.

Steve doesn’t get much sleep that night.

He still hasn’t opened it by school the next day. Might not ever have opened it if he hadn’t glanced toward Eddie during lunch and caught his eye. Eddie’s staring, gaze intense even with all the distance between them. But then, the weirdest thing happens—Eddie smiles just a little, and finger waves at him, like they’re friends.

Steve just stares, gobsmacked until Eddie’s entire face starts to turn a splotchy red and he looks down at his lunch table as if embarrassed.

“What was that?” Chrissy asks, looking behind her at whatever had caught Steve’s eye.

“I have to go,” Steve blurts, rushing out of the cafeteria before she can ask anymore questions.

His and Chrissy’s usual abandoned classroom has a teacher in it, so he ends up in his and Robin’s bathroom stall, this time alone. Still, he sits on the ground, leaving enough room for the ghost of Robin to have a seat, too.

He opens his backpack, zeroing in on the envelope instantly—as if he’d ever, for a second forgotten about it—and finally pulls it out.

He traces the sunflowers on the paper, memorizing the grooves Eddie’s pen had made before finally turning it over and sliding his fingers beneath the seal to tear it open.

The paper’s thicker than he’s used to getting from Eddie, and it’s that same, bright yellow that doesn’t fit Eddie’s aesthetic at all. But it fits Steve’s, and that’s the thought that finally gets him to bring the letter closer to his face and begin to read.

Steve,

I wanted to start this out by saying that I’m sorry—it’s a phrase I’m becoming alarmingly used to saying in recent weeks. To Jeff, to Gareth, and now to you. No matter how surprised I was, I had no right to say all that shit to you. And for that, I’m sorry, okay? Really, truly sorry.

As Chrissy and Jeff pointed out once you’d left, I was a dick, and there’s no excuse for that. And as my uncle told me when he was doing his disappointed parent shtick, I might have been projecting, just a tad.

Eddie Munson might be gay—who knew?

So, I’ll hope you accept my sincerest apologies for how I’ve handled this whole thing, Steve. I can’t imagine how it must have felt. Well, I can now, a bit. And it’s scary, right? But, I think it’s my turn to be brave. If I haven’t already ruined any chance I might have had, maybe we can go on a date?

I’ll pick you up this Friday at your house, say around seven? If you don’t answer the door, I’ll understand. That’ll be my answer.

But I really, really, really hope you do.

Yours, always, hopefully,

Eddie

Steve stares down at it, flummoxed. He reads it again, and again, and again. When the words on the page don’t change, he slips it delicately into the envelope, and goes to his next class, mind swirling away with the clouds.

“Can I drive you home?” Steve asks Jeff before he can climb into Chrissy’s car.

“Uh, sure?” Jeff replies just as Chrissy cuts in with a near-frantic, “are you okay?”

Steve smiles tightly at her and says, “I’ll call you tonight, okay? I just need to talk to Jeff.”

She bites her lip, looking even more worried than before, but all she says is, “I’ll hold you to that.”

Jeff and Chrissy trade an indecipherable look and then Jeff dutifully follows Steve to his car and climbs in. Before he starts the engine, he pulls the envelope out of his pocket and hands it to Jeff.

“What’s this?” Jeff asks.

“Read it,” Steve replies, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot so he doesn’t have to see whatever expression crosses Jeff’s face as he reads.

It’s silent for a few minutes aside from The Clash filtering quietly tinnily from the radio, but then Jeff says, “so, he finally did it.”

Steve’s fingers clench on the steering wheel at the vague answer to the question he hasn’t yet asked. “Is it some sort of joke?” Steve grits out, still unable to look at Jeff’s face.

“No, man,” Jeff replies, doing that same shoulder clasp thing he’d done last time he’d been in Steve’s car while he was upset. “He’s just been working through some stuff.”

“So he’s…” he finally shifts his gaze toward Jeff, hoping to convey his question without having to say it aloud.

“Seems so,” Jeff replies.

And Steve shudders, all those same feelings he’d been working so hard to suppress bubbling back to the surface, the most dangerous of all being hope.

“Are you going to go?” Jeff asks, voice even enough not to show his opinion on the decision one way or another.

Steve swallows, throat dry. “I don’t know.”

They don’t talk for the rest of the drive, and when he calls Chrissy later that night, she asks the same thing.

“Are you going to go?” she asks breathlessly, like she’s hanging on his every word.

Steve sighs. “He said he might be gay, Chris. What if we go out and he’s wrong?”

Left unmentioned is the niggling voice in the back of his head still insisting that the whole thing is some sort of cruel prank to get back at him. He’d lied, and strung him along, and gotten him hurt. No matter how many times Eddie apologizes, Steve knows he’s not really the one that should be.

“What if he’s right?” she asks.

Steve knows, deep down in his bones, that he’s going to go, just at the chance that Chrissy’s right, that Eddie’s right, that Jeff’s right. Steve desperately wants to be wrong.

***

Steve doesn’t show any outward appearance of having received the letter. Eddie watches, obsessively trying to catch even the barest hint of what he thinks of the note– if, when he knocks on the Harrington’s front door, he’ll open it.

He keeps looking, and looking, and finally, blessedly, when Eddie looks, Steve’s looking back. Their eyes lock, and such a wave of relief courses through Eddie that he, like a fucking idiot, waves at him. Steve stares, mouth open, and does absolutely nothing back.

Eddie looks down at the table, whole body aflame with mortification, hair dangling messily into Doug’s mashed potatoes.

“Dude,” Doug says, shoving Eddie’s shoulder, forcing him away from his precious lunch.

“You good?” Jeff asks, leaning across the table to poke at Eddie’s bowed head like it’s potentially diseased roadkill he found on the side of the street.

“He hates me!” Eddie whines, turning his head just enough to glance towards Steve’s table, spitting a chunk of hair out of his mouth.

Steve’s not there at all anymore.

“Harrington?” Gareth questions around the bite of apple lodged in his throat. “Aren’t you trying to steal his girlfriend?”

“Of course no—not anymore!” Eddie stutters, turning his head the other direction to glare at Gareth instead.

For his part, Gareth just looks down at him, supremely unimpressed. “Uh huh,” he replies, keeping his voice quiet even when very obviously fed up. “Is this more secret bullshit you’re refusing to tell me?”

“It’s not my secret!” Eddie hisses, finally removing his head from the table so he can crouch on it instead, leaning over Gareth like a gargoyle. “And I promised!”

“Bet you told Wayne,” Gareth mutters.

“Oh my god, I told Wayne!” Eddie cries, dropping off the bench entirely to crawl under the table where he belongs. It’s not like there’s anyone in the room right now that he wants to impress—he already scared Harrington off.

“Dude,” is all Jeff says, peering under the table to look down at him judgmentally. “Chrissy is going to kill you.”

Eddie clutches his hair hard enough that it hurts. “It’s Wayne! He doesn’t count,” Eddie whines, “does he?”

Jeff snorts, kicking his foot out until the toe of his sneaker connects softly with Eddie’s kneecap. “He doesn’t count,” he starts, continuing before Eddie’s even slumped with relief, “to you.”

When Eddie slinks out from beneath the table, Steve’s spot is still empty, and Chrissy’s sitting there, glaring across the cafeteria at Eddie like she can just sense that he didn’t keep his vow of secrecy.

God, girls are scary.

He avoids looking in her direction the rest of lunch, picking at his own potatoes and mushy peas just for something to do.

Steve’s not going to open the door—he knows that. But, even still, he wakes up early on Friday morning to sneak into Mrs. Johnson’s yard to carefully cut a few of her sunflowers, ducking low enough that the bushes in front of her windows will obscure him.

When he’s done, he’s got five perfect sunflowers, tied together with the brown shoelace he’d stolen from a pair of Wayne’s old boots.

He leaves them in the kitchen, awkwardly propped into a bowl full of water since the Munson’s aren’t the kind of family to own a vase, or even a tall enough glass, apparently.

By the time Wayne gets home from the graveyard shift, Eddie’s elbow-deep in a trash bag in the back of his van. Wayne peers through the propped-open doors, eyebrows already raised as Eddie freezes, hand in the metaphorical cookie jar.

“What’re ya doing, boy?” Wayne asks.

Eddie stares, brain full of ants and TV static as he fumbles for an answer. What comes out of his mouth is “I asked Steve out!”

Wayne’s lips quirk up, and he’s smirking at Eddie as if to say, see? told ya, the smug bastard. But all he says is, “is that so?” drawling and easy like he’s not acting all-knowing and superior.

Eddie groans and takes his hand out of the garbage bag to run it through his hair and pull. “Or I left him a note?” he says, gut churning as Wayne’s face drops to his more customary frown. “Oh my god, he’s not going to show!”

“Then why’re you cleaning your van out?”

Eddie puffs up, glaring back at Wayne now. “Well I’m going to show up, Wayne!” he replies, voice shrill. “I’m a man of my word.”

Wayne snorts when Eddie calls himself a man, just like he always does, but his lips are quirked up again, looking almost proud as he replies, “good man,” with only a slightly mocking intonation. “Want some help?”

They get all the trash out in a matter of minutes. When it becomes clear that the vacuum cleaner can’t reach no matter how close they park the van, Wayne comes back out with the broom from the kitchen and they sweep as much debris as they can from inside before Eddie steals the comforter from his own bed and lays it across the back carpet, masking the weird stains.

Wayne finishes it off with a spritz of his own rarely-used cologne, covering up any remaining funky smells. Even so, Eddie elects to leave the windows rolled down to air it out for as long as possible.

When Wayne notices his commandeered shoelace around the sunflowers, he doesn’t say a thing.

Then, he’s forced to go to school, wiling away the hours until he’s standing in front of the Harrington’s front door, boots shined for the first time in his life, sunflowers clutched in shaking hands, van parked neatly behind him, hair brushed into submission. He’d even used his fancy conditioner, thoughts of that half-remembered first letter waxing poetic about his hair fueling his action.

All for a boy who won’t answer the door.

But, Eddie’s a man of his word, so he knocks.

And waits.

He waits such a long time that he jumps when the door opens, breath catching as he looks at Steve Harrington, face-to-face for the first time since that disastrous day in his living room. His mostly-healed eye aches with remembered pain, his ribs cold with the absence of Steve’s hands.

He’s missed looking at him.

Steve’s in light-wash jeans, hair perfectly coiffed, wearing a green sweater that makes the gold in his eyes pop, even in the dim light from the Harrington’s porch light. He looks good, put together enough for a first date, casual enough to just be his everyday clothes.

Eddie’s heartbeat flickers with something that feels alarmingly like hope.

“Uh, hey,” Eddie says, finally breaking the awkward silence.

He smiles, trying to be charming, but he’s never done this before, doesn’t know how to contort his face. He holds out the sunflowers, arm awkwardly extending, hoping desperately that his offering will be accepted.

Steve stares down at them, hand still clutching the door like he’s one second away from slamming it closed in Eddie’s face. Eddie holds his breath, heartbeat ratcheting up from the oxygen deprivation.

Steve reaches out, his fingers brushing Eddie’s as he tries to take the flowers from him. Eddie’s fingers stay clenched around the stems for a second too long, hand following the flowers trajectory toward Steve’s own chest until Eddie forces his hand open and lets it drop uncomfortably back to his side.

Steve stares down at them, leaning down to take a sniff. Eddie winces—they don’t smell like much, just dirt and nebulous green things. But Steve smiles, just a tiny, little thing that hits Eddie’s body like electroshock therapy.

“Thank you.” Steve says quietly, not looking away from the sunflowers as he asks, “come inside while I put them in some water?”

Steve swings the door open wider, and Eddie slides past him and into the Harrington’s house. As Steve wanders further inside, Eddie stands in the entrance—foyer?—feeling remarkably out of place. Even from here, he can see enough negative space to house twenty-odd people, a vaulted ceiling, and is that a chandelier? Eddie doesn’t step a toe off the mat beneath his feet, afraid his very presence will stain the perfect white interior.

He shouldn’t be here. Places like this aren’t for the Munson’s of the world. They’re for royalty, kings and queens, and all the upper crust that spits down on the rest of them. But when Steve comes back, sans sunflowers, he’s smiling just a little, tromping his own shoes over the white carpet like he doesn’t give a shit.

Maybe he doesn’t belong here either. Maybe it’s possible to carve out a space for him in the Munson’s shitty trailer, however small.

“Alright, Munson,” he says, still smiling just this side of awkward. “What’re we doing?”

As Eddie holds Steve Harrington’s own front door open for him to step through, Eddie’s mind’s buzzing with maybes.

***

Eddie’s van smells like mothballs and cologne, and the radio’s quietly playing the sort of generic pop music Steve usually mumbles along to on his way to school. But, Eddie’s fingers are twitching against the wheel, and he hasn’t said a word since they’d climbed in, so Steve sits on his own hands and keeps his mouth shut.

The longer the silence drags on, the more Steve regrets ever opening the door at all. Eddie pulls into Hawkins’ drive-in, and buys their tickets and two bags of popcorn. Steve’s hand clenches in his lap, Eddie’s words to Chrissy all that time ago running through his head—we can go to the drive-in and hold hands the whole time.

“I hope this is okay?” Eddie says, finally breaking the silence as he spins the dial to the correct channel to catch the movie. “I wasn’t sure if you liked horror, but this is all that’s playing this weekend, and I’ve been wanting to watch it so—”

“It’s fine,” Steve replies, and it is.

He’s never been much for horror beyond putting it on for dates so he has a built-in excuse to reach out. But, he’s not squeamish, and maybe those same thoughts are running through Eddie’s head: an excuse to reach out and touch.

But, as the title card flashes SLEEPAWAY CAMP in big, boxy font, all Eddie does is reach into his popcorn bag and stuff a handful into his mouth. Steve follows suit, the buttery kernels turning to ash on his tongue.

He watches with little enthusiasm as the stupid teenagers on screen fool around and get torn apart. Eddie makes little comments throughout the movie, but there’s nothing Steve can grasp onto.

What does one say to, “whoa, blood fountain,” or “god, that kid’s a douche,” or, “they should’ve killed him sooner.”

Steve still tries, humming and nodding along and verbalizing his own agreements. Eddie never responds, just keeps stuffing his mouth with popcorn until the bag’s empty. Steve stares down at his own mostly-full bag and wonders if the separate bags were just to make sure they didn’t accidentally brush hands.

He hands his own popcorn over, and Eddie grabs it twitchily, muttering a “thanks, dude,” without really looking at Steve at all.

Steve just wants to go home, crawl into his own bed, and forget this whole thing ever happened.

But he just sits there, silent as the movie plays on. He doesn’t understand the end, but he missed so much of the beginning and middle that he barely questions it.

When it’s over, Eddie turns the dial back to that same, nondescript station that doesn’t fit him at all, fingers clenching hard enough on the wheel that Steve can hear it creak under the strain. Steve turns away, to look out the window, throat clogged up with feelings he doesn’t want to think about.

The longer this date drags on, the more excruciatingly clear it becomes that whatever is driving Eddie to this, it’s not him returning Steve’s feelings. This isn’t how dates go when you’re excited about them, there’s nothing clicking into place–it doesn’t even seem like Eddie’s trying.

He feels small, and sad, and every minute that passes with Eddie saying absolutely nothing at all only makes Steve feel more like a charity case that Eddie’s taken pity on.

He never should have listened to Chrissy and Jeff’s encouragement. They’d both been so hopeful that he’d caved, but they’re not the ones stuck in the devastatingly uncomfortable moment. It’s just him and Eddie, living with the fact that Steve’s got a crush on a boy that can never like him back.

There’s no coming back from this, no matter how nice Eddie tries to be about it. Because he is nice, no matter how he’s been acting the past few weeks.

Steve’s the problem—always has been, always will be.

So, he stews in the silence, watching the same familiar buildings pass him by like it’s the last time he’ll ever see them. And maybe it will be, if Eddie decides to be not so nice. This was all so catastrophically, unbelievably stupid from that very first letter all the way to this moment, stuck in a van with a boy that won’t even look at him.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t realize they’re going the wrong way until Eddie’s pulling into a familiar clearing in the quarry. His headlights illuminate the skid marks Steve’s car had made in the dirt when he’d screeched to a halt to stop Jason Carver from rearranging his face.

Eddie slides into park much more levelly and cuts the engine. The quiet is absolute, made worse by the darkness surrounding them. Steve can hear the crinkle of Eddie shifting on his seat, the sound of his throat as he gulps like he’s about to go off to war.

“I thought—” Eddie starts before petering off as his voice breaks. Steve listens to him take a few shuddering breaths before starting again. “I thought we could star gaze?”

Steve sighs, slumping back into his seat, so unbelievably tired. “Eddie—”

“Unless you don’t want to!” Eddie rushes out. “I just thought…”

Steve would kill to know what he’s thinking, but whatever it is, Eddie doesn’t pick up his trailing sentence, just leaves it hanging in the silence between them. Steve sighs again, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose, desperate to keep an even keel.

“Look, Eddie” Steve starts, turning toward Eddie. He can see the silhouette of his frame hunched over in the driver’s seat, but his face is a black void for Steve to project upon. It makes him brave. “You don’t have to do this. You, like, tried it out, right? And it didn’t work out.”

“Steve—”

“It’s fine, Eddie,” Steve cuts in, exhausted. “You can just drop me off at home, and we can go our separate ways.”

Eddie makes a sound like a strangled cat, and then his silhouette lunges across the distance between their seats. Steve jerks back, head banging painfully into the window as Eddie’s mouth mashes against his, more teeth than lips.

PART 19

Shoutout, once again, to my beta reader and friend @queenie-ofthe-void for this one!!! I struggled for weeks on the date, and then they said, "what if you just make it as awkward as possible," and then I wrote this entire date in a day. Truly a muse for me <3<3<3

#koko's steddie secret admirer au #steddie #my fic

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hayatoseyepatch · 5 months ago

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Description: NSFW headcannons for Hajime Umemiya. Character: Hajime Umemiya. Word Count: 1.9k Contains: Fem!Reader x Hajime Umemiya. Smut. Breeding kink, daddy calling, p in v, marking, free use, public sex, exhibitionism, oral (f!receiving), praise, dirty talk, implied size difference.

Authors Note: This was a request for some Umemiya NSFW headcannons. I hope you enjoy this annonie! I've been dying to write more Ume (He's my second fave after Suo after all) so thank you for giving me an excuse to write some of the many many thoughts I have about this beautiful man. (❀ ˆ³ˆ)♡

•⋅⊰ Hajime Umemiya has a breeding kink, I will not budge on this. He calls everyone in Bofurin his family, and after losing his, he is so excited to start a family with you. Nothing gets Ume harder than the thought of filling your womb. And nothing is going to be able to stop him until that urge has been fulfilled.

The day had started innocently enough, a visit made to the group home to drop off some of the produce you both had harvested from his garden that morning. But as he watched you interact with the little ones, he couldn’t help but let his mind wander. The thoughts of you holding your own child in your arms as they giggled. The idea of the both of you looking up at him as you welcomed him home. These thoughts consumed him. And as much as they made his heart fill with warmth, he couldn’t help but feel the strain of his cock in his pants.

The thought of your tummy becoming swollen with his child plagued his mind as the head of his cock kissed your cervix. Your knees are thrown over his forearms, hands desperately gripping onto him for support. You both had barely made it to your bedroom, his lips attacking yours hungrily as he practically ripped your clothes from your body. A simple “Fuck, sunflower, I need you so bad” spoken breathlessly against your lips as he hoisted you into his arms. Groaning at the feeling of your velvety walls squeezing him as he slipped inside. His head ducking down to take a nipple in his mouth tongue circling the nub before letting his teeth grace you gently. Mind wandering to how swollen they would become, filled with milk, wondering how it would taste. The thought alone drove him to set a harsh pace, the sound of his hips slamming against yours filling the room. He pulls his head from you, teeth dragging your nipple until his mouth is free with a satisfying ‘pop’. Lips pressing themselves against your ear, words breathless as he spoke. ”I want to see that beautiful face when I breed this pretty pussy with my cum, bunny.”

He pulled from you, maneuvering you in his strong arms until you both reached the bed, having you lay on your back beneath him. Knees pushed to your chest once more by his grip on your thighs. Your hands gripping onto his skin, nails biting into the skin. Feeling an incredible sense of emptiness at the loss of his cock. Knowing just what to say to get him back inside you. “Hajime please, feel so empty. Put a baby inside of me, Haji, I need you to breed my cunt, daddy.” You looked up at him between your legs, the tears that lined your lashes only enforced the need behind your words, the need that caused the mess between your legs.

He leans down pressing a sweet kiss against your lips as he slips back into your cunt, thumb rubbing against your clit to match his pace. He could feel the spasming of your walls, the want, the desperate need for you to come all over his cock. He attacked your neck, leaving kisses and bites along the surface area of your neck. Pleased as the skin deepens in color with his mark. Though what really sent him into a frenzy, was one phrase in particular, you always knew just what to say to drive him insane. “Yeah, princess? Need me to fill that slutty cunt baby? Want me to fold you in half and breed you, princess, want me to really make you a mommy, huh baby? Well, how could I say no after you begged for it so pretty sunflower?”

•⋅⊰ Free use with Umemiya is a must. He often has you foregoing the use of your panties. If you do, more often than not he winds up pocketing them anyway, so what’s the point? Umemiya needs to have you at any given time, he’s a busy man after all, he’s got to make sure his little flower is well tended to doesn’t he?

His lips were attached to your neck, leaving hot kisses in their wake. One of his large hands keep you in place with its strong grip on your waist. He takes the opportunity to slide a large hand under the hem of your skirt. Fingers digging into the plush of your ass for stability. He takes the opportunity of you leaning forward to the side as leverage to slide his hand lower, slipping your panties to the side, swiping the wetness there, fingers sliding past your entrance. He groans into your neck feeling the way your slick walls swallow his fingers hungrily. “You're always so nice and ready for me, no matter what aren’t you sunflower?” He purrs into your ear, free hand coming to cup your breast through the thin fabric of your sundress. The both of you had just been gardening, watering the buds that were just beginning to sprout. The way the dress hugged your curves had Umemiya in a frenzy. He knew it was dangerous to touch you so openly, but that just added to the thrill.

You were frozen in his embrace Sugishita was not too far away as he tended to the other end of the garden. Your cheeks flushed, eyes locked on him to make sure you both wouldn’t get caught. “Hajime.. wait.. Sugishita is-“ Your words were quickly cut off, hands flying to your mouth to muffle your moans as Umemiya curls his fingers upward, expertly finding that spongy pot that makes the corners of your vision go white. He grinned against your ear, though he couldn’t ignore the spike of jealousy he felt hearing you call the younger male’s name so breathlessly. “Well then I guess you're gonna have to be real quiet now aren’t you darling?” He never ceased in his ministrations, if anything he doubled his efforts. Fingers pumping in and out of your drenched pussy, thumb moving to rub tight circles on your clit.

Your nails dig into the skin of his forearm, using your grip to help yourself stand on shaky legs as Umemiya works you over with his fingers, trying desperately to keep your wounds to a minimum. If anyone were to see you from the back it would simply look like Umemiya was holding you sweetly in his arms. But you knew better, you were suspicious Sugishita did too from how attentively he was gardening, tips of his ears peeking from within his long hair being red. “Haji.. please.” You whimper softly around your hand, his answer is immediate doubling his efforts as he pumps the fingers that were inside you faster. The thumb of his other hand circled your nipple before taking the bud between two fingers.

“Go on baby, make a mess on my fingers. I know you want to sunflower, make a mess for me.” He groans, rubbing his clothed erection against your ass, letting you feel just how riled up touching you was getting him. His words send you over the edge, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip as you will your hips not to buck against his fingers as your walls spasm around your digits as you cum for him. Breathing heavily, turning back to look at him, only to catch him slipping the soaked digits in his mouth, humming as he gets a taste of you. “Sweetest nectar I’ve ever tasted, honeybee.” He chuckles, deep in your ear, before grabbing your wrist. “Hey Sugishita!” he calls loudly, causing you and the other males’ cheeks to warm with color. “Me and Sunflower need to grab some supplies from the shed real quick, gotta fill her up ya know?” All three of you knew in that moment Umemiya was not talking about the garden.

•⋅⊰ Hajime Umemiya is the CEO of pussy eating. This man eats your cunt like he is STARVING. He is not satisfied unless you're absolutely dripping down his face. He likes it mess he craves it. He gets drunk on your taste. It brings him so much pleasure to taste you against his lips and even more to hear the sounds that leave your lips as he does it.

Umemiya begins the long and tortuous process of trailing kisses down your frame, grinning against your skin as he feels your body arch into his touch, finally ending his slow descent by tugging the waistband of your panties back with his teeth, shivering in anticipation at the sound of the elastic snapping against your skin. Having enough of his own teasing already, he leans back, groaning upon seeing the drenched material of your panties. “Holy shit baby girl, look at you. You're fucking soaked. Can't wait to taste you, princess.” He impatiently grips the fabric tugging it off of your frame, placing the material next to him on the bed, before laying flat on his front, settling himself between your legs, hooking a thumb in a fold pulling the skin to the side to expose you fully to his prying eyes. “Sunflower, you're so fucking beautiful, I can't fucking stand it.” Accentuating his words with a playful nip at the inside of your thigh, kissing upwards slowly, tongue dragging along your soft skin until he reaches where you need him most.

Leaning in, he swipes the wet muscle upwards to collect the wetness that was dripping from your center. Groaning, deep in his throat, at your taste. He pulls away just enough so that you could feel his breath against your cunt as he spoke. “Fuck you’re so delicious princess, and so nice and wet, tell me. Is this all for me, baby?” Your head was thrown back already from such a simple touch, fingers already tangling in his styled hair as you affirmed his words with a hum. “Yes, Haji it's all for you. Only get this wet for you baby.” He lets out a deep chuckle at how cute you were being right now, allowing you to feel the vibrations of his laughter in your core. He lets a hand come up, finger prodding your entrance, collecting the wetness gathered there before sliding into the knuckle, curling the appendage upwards. His lips detach from your clit, tongue lolling out to flatten against the sensitive bundle of nerves. He was quick to add another finger, pumping the digits in and out of your heat slowly. His tongue lapped at your clit, occasionally tracing meaningless shapes along your clit adding to the sensations his tongue was providing. His other hand comes up to grab a handful of your ass, effectively pushing your hips down on his tongue.

Umemiya moaned into your cunt, his mouth quickly becoming insatiable. Fingers pumping relentlessly in and out of your tight heat, a mixture of your wetness and his saliva dripping down his chin and onto the mattress below. Umemiya was overtaken by your taste, tongue lapping at your clit desperately. Unable to will himself to stop he rolls his hips against the plush of the mattress. Needing some form of friction to alleviate the throbbing of his cock. Groaning against your cunt, your taste coupled with his rolling hips sent a shudder up his spine. The softness of the mattress through the tight material of his pants does nothing in comparison to having your tight cunt wrapped around him. But he needed this, needed to feel your hips buck desperately against his face as you chased your high. He knew it would be worth it when you came against his face with a scream of his name, fingers pulling roughly against his hair to ground yourself as he drank everything you had to offer. And it would definitely be worth the pair of underwear he just ruined.

Dividers by saradika-graphics. Writing & character banners by me. If you enjoyed it, consider taking a look at my masterlist: here. Special thanks to @eevees-hobbies for putting free use Ume in my head so bad that I needed to write it.

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chokulit · 2 months ago

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I'll keep it brief: Muhammad is a disabled child who needs to escape Gaza so that he can return to physical therapy

Remember that I can draw for you if you donate, just message me: x

I will post updates when I can

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shadyshaylee114 · 3 months ago

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Orc x reader

You lived in alittle cottage on the outskirts of town. Many found you to be strange but you had the best fruits and vegetables anyone had tasted so when you came into town to trade and sell the line was never ending. The towns people had practically raised you so your booth was always busy. What you weren't expecting today was the fact an orc had set up a meat stand right next to your produce stand. You had arrived before the sunlight to set up as you always do but froze taking in the sight. An orc, well over 6 ft tall, was standing in front of the stand next to yours hanging up rows of wrapped meat. You swallowed as you watched the way his muscles moved, enjoying the dark green color on his skin. You took in the scars that littered his back. Wishing you could kiss each individual scar. Distracted you hadn't notice the orc had turned his head and notice your stare.

"I paid for this stand I won't leave even if you have an issue with my kind." He snarled snapping you out of your perverse thoughts.

"No! I.. I mean no I don't have a problem with orcs. I just hadn't seen you around before. I'm... I'm sorry I didn't mean to stare or make you uncomfortable." You stammered out your cheeks turning bright red in embarrassment. You looked him in the eyes finally taking in his features. He had four tusks in total. Two larger than the the others , his eyes a vibrant yellow that reminded you of the sunflowers you grew around your cabin. You were attracted to the orc and had already made him think you where racist, way to go.

"Agar Warbringer." He said holding out his hand.

"Agar thats a wonderful name." You whispered shaking his hand as you told him your name. Agar grunted giving you a curt nod before turning back to his meats.

You left him alone to continue setting up your stand. Little did you know Agar couldn't help but keep stealing peeks at the small little human. You hadn't been afraid and looked him in the eyes. Plus the smell of your arousal had been what caught his attention in the first place. A human female attracted to an orc. There must be something wrong with you. He watched from the side as you set out your produce. Watching the way your hair fell and how often you'd brush it out of your eyes. The way the dawn was starting to shine on your skin so very different from his. Then he thought back to your tiny hand in his. How soft your fingers where compared to his. He could feel his cock hardening at the thought of your hands wrapped around him. Agar cursed silently under his breath focusing on the task at hand. He couldn't sell his meats if he couldn't even control his own.

The bell that signaled the start of the market rang through the air and just as fast, people started to flood in. As you helped person after person you kept stealing glances at Agar unable to help yourself. He was so handsome and they way he handled people was incredible. Giving small children some jerky to nibble on while there parents picked through his assorted product. The way he laughed with the elders as they told him their own hunting tales. His patience was vast even with those who didn't deserve it.

"Honestly if I were you I'd ask to move your stand." You jumped looking at the young man standing at the front of your line.

"Excuse me?" You asked shocked at his statement.

"Why would they allow an orc to put up a stand next to yours? Your one of the busiest stands in the market that thing will scare away your buyers with his ugly face." You could feel rage boiling up inside of you. How dare he say something so nasty.

"If that's all for you, I think you should go." You said coldly. The boy looked at you in disbelief.

"Don't tell me you actually care about that orc." He gasped. Shaking his head he scowled and left muttering under his breath. You knew violence was prohibited but you wanted to beat some sense into that child. You quickly stepped behind the stand for a second to calm your nerves. As you started to prepare to head back you turned right into Agar slamming your head into his chest. He quickly grabbed your arms to stop you from falling.

"Are you okay? I saw you kick that man away from your stand." He asked with a wince. Why was he over here? The last thing you probably wanted was him so close. Without thinking since Agar had a hold of both your arms still you rubbed your nose on his chest it had stung to slam into him. As his musky scent started to fill your sense you froze. Quickly pulling back from him your face turning red in embarrassment. You had just practically harassed him.

"I'm fine. Thank you for coming to check up on me. Sorry about your chest. I mean sorry. I'm just gonna go back the lines waiting. Thank you again!" You rushed out the words. Mortified how could things possibly get worse.

As the day continued you stayed busy still stealing glances at Agar every chance you had. Then as usual the bell tolled signaling the end of the market. When you looked over at Agars stand again. The orc was quickly loading his cart not even sparing you a glance as he did. A deep ache settled into your chest. Why was it bothering you? You and Agar had barely meet. You needed to leave him alone. Ignoring the tears burning at your eyes you started to pack up your own stand. Working diligently placing all the produce back into the crates you'd brought them in. So busy you hadn't noticed Agar slid inside to stand behind you. Agar shifted on his heels he had come to help you, wanting to court you in the orc manner, but paused as he could smell your tears. Had that man come back? He'd crush his skull for making you cry. Agar chose to clear his throat to get your attention wishing to bring you comfort. What he wasn't anticipating was the terrified shriek that left your lips. Agar covered his ears stumbling back an slamming his head on one of the beams. He lowered himself to sit on the counter rubbing his large hand over the bump.

"Oh by the gods Agar I'm sorry you scared me." You cried out, pulling him down to inspect where he hit his head. Swatting his hand away so you could see better. "Luckily your not bleeding." You whispered as you gently ran your fingers thru his hair. His forehead was rested on your breast in this postion. Agar found his eyes sliding closed letting out a soft moan. You started to pull away worried that the sound he made was because of pain. Agar wrapped his arm around your waist resting his chin on your breast.

"It's okay I shouldn't have snuck up on you." Agar had opened his eyes to take you in once again, you looked so worried for him. He found himself smiling at the way you fiddled with his hair while holding eye contact with him. "Little one, what made you cry?" He found himself asking. You shook your head wiping at your eyes. You let out a sigh biting your lip.

"I thought I'd upset you. And that you'd no longer want anything to do with me. You were packing up your cart so quickly." You whispered looking down. Agar groaned in embarrassment.

"I was packing my cart up so quickly because I wanted to come help you. I hoped if I helped you perhaps you'd allow me to spend more time with you." Agar gently grabbed your hands unwillingly lifting his head from your breast. He couldn't help himself but to admire the differences between the two of you.

"You wanted to spend more time with me?" You asked drawing Agars gaze away from your hands. At the look of wonder mixed with delight on your face, Agar found himself moving once more this time pulling you closer to him as he sealed his lips against yours. He spread his thighs tugging you into the space in-between. Placing your hands onto his chest he groaned. He dragged his hand up your arm tangling his thick fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. You'd never been kissed like this before it was all fire, passion, and need. You felt as though Agar would never get his fill of you. As you moaned collapsing against him no longer able to hold yourself up on your shaky legs. Agar slid his tongue into your mouth, bringing you into a heated dance of your tongues. As Agar broke the kiss he chuckled at the soft dazed look on your face.

"Your so beautiful and kind. You smell like sunshine and taste like fresh fruit. How could I not want to spend time with you? Let's pack up your cart then we shall go for a stroll." You whined softly as he separated the two of you smiling brightly at your response. He was pleased that you where returning his affection. He had truly believed wooing you wouldn't be possible. Yet here you where looking at him with some much love he kept forgetting how to breath. You approached Agar as he put the last crate into your cart.

"Are you staying in town?" You asked. Agar look at you shaking his head.

"No the people normally prefer I don't stay in town. I rest in my cart." At his words you shook your head. You knew that humans and the mythical didn't get along but that felt like to much.

"Please Agar, come stay at my cabin. I'll make us a hot meal and you can sleep on an actual bed." You begged softly. Agar look down at you his eyes widened. He found himself nodding at a loss for words, especially when your face lit up in a bright smile upon his agreement. The travel to your cabin didn't take long. You lived in the forest, just outside the city walls.

"Why don't you live in town?" Agar asked. Taking in your home. You had paused a sad look settling on your face before you answered.

"Mmm my parents where what the towns people call wise men. My father would say they where historians. They'd take down knowledge of anything and everything they could. When my mother discovered she was pregnant they chose this forest. I've been here ever since." A soft silence once again settled between the two of you. You led the horses to the barn as Agar looked at you.

"How old where you when they left?" Agar asked softly.

"I was six. I really dont like talking about it. The people in town took good care of me helped me be an honest worker." You whispered entering your home Agar close behind. You showed Agar a place to wash up as you cooked dinner.

You and Agar enjoyed your meal sharing stories. Agar helped you clean up.

"I'll show you to the bedroom." You whispered leading the way down the hall. As you arrived to your bedroom and opened the door Agar blinked.

"This is really well furnished for a spare bedroom." He stated simply sitting down on the foot of the bed. You blushed fiddling with your fingers once more.

"It's my bedroom. I thought.... I thought we could sleep together." Agar smiled you where being so bold and brave.

"Come here little one." He groaned as he pulled you onto his lap. You whinned softly at the feeling of Agars cock pressed against your core. He chuckled at the needy sound lowering his head to kiss you. His hands gripping your ass slowly dragging you along his length. "You feel that little one. I've been like that all day watching you." He growled lowering his head to travel kisses and small nips with his tusk along your neck. He chuckled once more at the needy sounds leaving your lips. "So desperate love. Acting like I don't have every intention to stuff you full."

"Please Agar more. Want you to take me." You practically sobbed out. Agar burst out laughing at your antics making you pout.

"I have to prepare you little one I'm much to big for you to take me right away." He layed down flat on the bed. "Take off the rest of your clothes and come up here." At his order, you quickly threw off your gown and undergarments. Once again drawing a chuckle from Agar. He found your eagerness endearing. As you climbed onto his lap he shook his head. "Higher love. I cant feast on you from all the way down there." You looked at him swallowing heavily as he licked his lips and tusks. You made your way up untill your dripping cunt was hovering above his face.

"I what if I hurt you?" You asked holding yourself up. This time it was your turn to laugh. The look on Agars face was a mix between being insulted and bewilderment.

"I want you to try." He growled his hands closing around on your hips pulling you straight onto his face. Making you choke on your laughter as his tusk pressed right against your lips, opening you up for his thick tongue. At the first swipe along your clit you whined. He moaned low pushing his tongue into your opening. He rubbed his nose against your clit as he tried to touch the deepest parts of you with his tongue. Gasping and trying to pull away from the overwhelming pleasure he snarled in frustration. You where interrupting him, with a quick movement you where moving backwards. Finding yourself flat on the bed his face still buried inbetween your legs.

"Oh by the stars Agar I can't!" You cried out as he now had you fully pinned open to his assault. He was fucking you with his tongue every once in awhile giving special attention to your swollen clit. You continued to try to get away from the immense pleasure. Agar brought one arm up to settle on to your hips right under your stomach. Using his other hand he grabbed your leg moving it so he could slip his hand to your weeping cunt. He slid his ring finger into you. Just his one finger was already stretching you wider then his tongue had. You moaned your back arching. Agar didn't hesitate to add a second you where already so wet for him. Agar slid his fingers deeper, watching as you cum. You were such a sight spread out before him so ready, so willing, and so sensitive. As his fingers pressed against your g-spot you cried out the sensation dragging out your already intense orgasam. He groaned in delight making sure you rode out the high of your orgasm, continuing to fuck you with his fingers.

"Your so sweet little one." He sighed dragging his tongue up your sensitive cunt making you whine.

"I could live in between your legs, but now your ready for me. Catch your breath." His eyes were almost glowing with his need to have you. Agar was patient rubbing slowly circles on your thighs as your breathing slowed.

"Please Agar. I'm ready I want you." At your words, Agar moved pulling you towards him. He grabbed his cock in his hand dragging it along you wet folds. As he lined himself up with your entrance he locked his eyes onto yours. Slowly pushing himself in he gritted his teeth. Slow, he had to go slow, you were so wet and tight. He could fill his control slipping. Another soft moan left your lips. With that soft sound Agar could no longer resist. He pushed himself the rest of the way with a quick rough thrust, his balls smacked against your ass. You let out a loud groan your eyes sliding closed at the feeling of being filled.

"Oh no mate, your gonna keep those gorgeous eyes on me." Agar growled as he began to move. Your eyes flew open thanks to the way he was kissing your cervix with every thrust. "There's my pretty mate. So lovely so tight around me. Irresistible, I will never let you go."

Your nails where digging into his bicep. The pleasure was overwhelming you. You were getting close to cumming. With out thinking you sank your teeth into his chest. Agar groaned feeling your walls tightening on him. "My pretty girl your begging for my seed. Pulling me back so tight." At Agars next rough thrust you cried out into his chest

Agar roared as he slammed himself all the way into you, slamming into your cervix as he filled you with his seed. Agar brushed your hair away from your eyes taking in the way your eyes where dilated. How your breast rose and fell with each panting breath. Blinking away your tears you looked back at Agar.

"Did you mean it?" You asked softly. Agar looked at you with a soft tilt of his head.

"Mean what little one?" He asked as he ran his hands along anywhere he could easily reach.

"When you called me your mate?" You whispered hiding your face now afraid his answer would be no. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Agar rather it be in your cabin or traveling by his side. Agar froze at your question he thought he had made that perfectly clear. Pulling his cock back he slid himself back in slowly to your sensitive cunt. Your eyes rolled back at the overwhelming pleasure. Agar leaned down resting his cheek against yours. Setting in a slow steady pace.

"I meant every word. Your mine little one. My mate, my lover, my heart. I'll make sure your always full of my offsprings. I'll make sure all you know is how much your mine." As Agar continued to thrust into you at his words your eyes flew open looking at him. Agar above you his green skin shining with sweat under the lanterns. His yellow eyes were filled with admiration and need.

Agar once again picked up his pace. Making you cry out.

"All yours Agar. Your mate. But please I'm so close. So sensitive." You sobbed out fresh tears falling down your cheeks. Agar groaned at your words sliding his hand under your waist he lifted you up to meet his thrust at his brutal pace. Agar closed his lips over yours Pulling you into a heavy kiss. As he slid his tongue into your mouth. You once again came on his cock. Agar slid all the way into you once more as he came. As Agar pulled out fully this time he watched his cum dripping out of your cunt and down your thighs. Dragging his finger along the cum he started pushing it back into your cunt. He wouldn't allow a drop to be wasted. Your back arched at this rate Agar would be the death of you.

"Agar please I...I need some rest." You stammered out. Agar looked at you letting out a soft grunt. He laid down back flat on the bed easily pulling you onto him. Your head rested on his chest while he had your legs inbeetween his thighs. He started to fiddle with your hair.

"Sleep my heart for once you awaken I will have you again." He stated smiling at you his eyes filled with the same look of love and admiration. Agar had finally found his heart and he would never abandoned her.

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