#this is wild tagging i know i just took whatever i like best for them

[sixosix]

can i go where you go? | kaedehara kazuha

warnings 2.2k words, lots of kissing… like srsly, pure fluff, kazuha is a cutie, not a slick cutie though, friends to lovers!!

or, three times Kazuha keeps kissing you on ‘accident’.

The first time Kazuha kissed you, it was on Beidou’s ship.

You're only partially awake, your eyelids heavy, and you move with a slow, languid pace as Kazuha escorts you towards The Alcor. The wind hums as it caresses the sails, accompanied by the lively shouts and cheers of the crew on board.

“So early,” you mutter, sighing. “Too early. Sun isn’t even out yet.”

“It will be, soon,” Kazuha says, smiling at you in the same way that he always does. Tender, as comforting as the ocean pooling on your feet as you walk by the shore. “You mentioned you wanted to meet the Captain, didn’t you? Tilt your head a little.” Although he says it, his finger comes to your chin and gently directs your gaze himself.

He’s gesturing to the woman standing at the quarterdeck, her hands resting on her hips and her shoulders remarkably broad. She turns as if hearing Kazuha’s soft voice amidst the boisterous chatter. Your jaw goes slack in awe, excitement washing away the last traces of fatigue tugging your bones as everything you’ve heard about Captain Beidou from Kazuha comes rushing back.

Kazuha steadies you with a hand on the small of your back as your knees falter when climbing the ship.

“Captain Beidou!” You bow deeply, lowering your head to your waist, arms outstretched to offer her the sake and the sakura mochi you made the night before—which cost you sleep, but it is worth more than anything when you get to gift the woman who took care of your best friend when you couldn’t. “Thank you so much for letting me tag along. Please take this.”

Kazuha and Beidou glance at each other in surprise.

Kazuha starts, “You didn’t have—”

“No,” you say, firm. “This is the least I can do. Don’t try, Kazuha.”

Kazuha’s expression eases to a smile. “Alright.”

“I like this one, Kazuha,” Beidou says, ruffling your hair, and leaving stray strands on your head. She grins at you, all wide and wild. “Where’s he been hiding ya, huh, kid?”

“Somewhere in Inazuma.”

She laughs; it sounds like the roaring waves of the ocean. “Thank you. I’ll share it with my crew.” She turns, looking at you over her shoulder. You feel the hair on your arms rise to attention. “Let me know if you need anything, but Kazuha probably will see to it faster than any of us could.”

You’re not exactly sure what she means, though you can pick up on the knowing smirk she throws at your best friend.

“Men, to your posts!” she orders. Kazuha takes it as a cue to take your hand and lead you somewhere far more secluded.

No one’s watching; at least, not to your knowledge. The crew knows well enough they have their own business to attend to, and that no one should be interrupting Kaedehara Kazuha when catching up with his best friend since childhood, you.

Kazuha is a wanderer first and foremost. He does not like to be tied down to one place—he’d itch and wander off if you try to keep him at bay. However, there is one exception; one that has him visiting his homeland whenever he can, even when he is dangerously most sought after. When the wind subsides to a gentle whisper in his ears, the waves are gentle when splashing against the ship, and the crew is fast asleep, Kazuha finds himself stealing glances in the general direction of Inazuma. He knows you’re likely sleeping soundly there, expecting him.

This is what gets him to bring home whatever he may find along the way just to give them to you. If anyone asks, Kazuha would reply with a vague: “For someone special to me, in my land of birth.” Anyone would have guessed that, though, given the assortment of flowers Kazuha never fails to bring home.

You find yourself swaying back and forth along with the ship, your mouth running miles per minute as you talk to him on and on about how you’ve never been to Liyue before and your hands are shaking from excitement—or perhaps nerves, and how is Kazuha looking so calm and why is he smiling at you weirdly?

Kazuha has that fond look in the crinkle of his eyes. “Are you certain you’re not feeling sick? Lightheaded?”

Although the heavy rocking of the ship is unlike anything you’ve experienced before, you only feel the anticipation. Thrill. You’ve seen glimpses of Liyue from the letters Kazuha sends; you’re positive nothing can compare to the real deal, and that is what has you giddy, kicking your legs against the wood.

The early morning air crept beneath your clothes and left a trail of goosebumps in their wake. You shudder; Kazuha leans against you, the warmth of his body relaxing you immediately.

The world falls completely silent as you gaze at him.

“Kazuha,” you breathe out, eyes round with wonder, “thank you for taking me with you.” Kazuha goes still as you brush a stray of hair away from your face a little shyly. “It probably doesn’t mean much because you’re always traveling, and it’s probably such a hassle to be my tour guide, but I’m—mmph.”

The rest of your words are swallowed by Kazuha’s lips, and you, undoubtedly silenced by the press of his soft lips against yours. You have your eyes wide open, frozen as you watch the sunrise from the horizon over Kazuha’s shoulder, casting him an unreal golden glow.

Kazuha quickly pulls back and looks as startled as you feel. The kiss was about half a second, and it took nearly a minute for the both of you to process what had just happened.

He frowns, though it doesn’t feel directed at you. “Sorry,” he says slowly, as though he’s just been brought back up from underwater. “That was—”

“It’s fine,” you blurt, hoping the sunrise would disguise your stunned expression. “The ship—uh, it’s swaying pretty hard. You probably lost balance or something.” However, speaking it aloud sounds wrong. Kazuha just doesn’t lose balance: he’s the most seasoned samurai you’ve met in your life.

Then again, that would leave an empty room of explanation, one of which you’d rather not set foot in.

“Yes.” The sunrise has Kazuha looking a little pink. Or should it be orange? “Allow me to fetch us a bottle of water. You might get seasick.”

“Sure,” you murmur, though it’s lost to the howl of the wind as Kazuha swiftly jumps down, his Vision glowing on his back. The sensation in your stomach doesn’t seem like seasickness.

He doesn’t talk about it, so you don’t bring it up.

The second time happens in public.

The moment you set foot in Liyue Harbor, Kazuha realizes he must reach for your wrist to prevent you from straying and getting lost. You dart from one corner to the next, exploring every stall, even stray dogs and running children.

“Liyue feels so…warm.”

It could be the orange glow of their lights, painting over the region with an unbeatable shade and atmosphere, perfectly replicating what it would be like sitting across a fireplace. Or it could be Kazuha’s hand intertwined with yours.

“Hearing that relieves me,” Kazuha admits, pulling you to the side as two men pushing crates on wheels rush past. “You are often unpredictable in what you like and dislike.”

You laugh, “Were you worried that you overhyped it? You tend to be descriptive with what you write back to me—what was it? The flavorful aroma coming from street vendors, the squeals of youth whistling past, the seagulls, and the waves of the ocean audible even amidst the bustling crowds… I can see it.”

“You remember all of that?” Kazuha looks adorable when bashful.

The sun is already at its highest peak. Sweat has started to form around your hairline; Kazuha had to buy you popsicles, which you got from the Wanmin Restaurant. The popsicle is entirely blue, nearly translucent, and tastes like eating just ice, but it effectively cools you down. Kazuha doesn’t appear bothered by the heat in the slightest, going as far as to insist on carrying all the souvenirs you’ve been purchasing.

He has only one arm full, though. The other is free and linked with yours.

“You didn’t tell me one important thing, though,” you say.

Kazuha blinks once, then furrows his brows. “What is it?” He looks sincerely worried.

“You didn’t tell me you’re famous,” you tease, nudging a red-faced Kazuha with your elbow. “Oh, it’s Kaedehara, you’re back! And here I thought you were like a celebrity in Inazuma. You might just be well-loved everywhere.” Well, who could blame them? You’re no better than the people of Teyvat.

He shakes his head. “Far from it,” he insists, ever the modest guy. “I just happen to be caught up with The Crux.”

“Those ladies seem to disagree. They were trying to impress you, you know.”

Kazuha shifts uncomfortably, his face a funny shade of pink. “I did not pay close enough attention. I apologize.”

A laugh escapes you, in disbelief. “Why are you apologizing to me?”

“I did not realize you were the jealous type.”

You gawk at his words, spinning around to see that a hint of something smug playing on his lips. “That’s not—You… shut up. I’m not.”

Kazuha opens his mouth to say something stupid to fluster you probably, but you’re quicker. You retrieve a container wrapped in plastic, its surface moist from the steam within. Kazuha falls silent, his watchful gaze fixed on you as you unwrap it, his nose undoubtedly detecting a familiar and enticing aroma.

“This is…” Kazuha picks one stick up and observes it. “Mondstadt Grilled Fish.”

“Yes,” you say, grinning proudly. “One of your favorites. You sent me the recipe last year, remember? Kept practicing it for this moment.”

But Kazuha’s heavy gaze is not on the food, but on you, an unreadable emotion clouding his eyes. The tension disappears when he smiles and takes a bite. You watch him enjoy his food in peace, belatedly deciding to do the same. You know you did good but Kazuha didn’t have to look like he’s in bliss, eyes closed and everything.

“Thank you,” he says. “You keep surprising me. This was meant to be a day for you.”

“You here with me is enough to make all my days,” you say, mouth full of fish grilled to perfection. Embarrassingly enough, there are crumbs that spew out. You take another big bite, crumbs of it sticking to the sides of your mouth.

You must look a little stupid, tucked in some corner of Liyue, standing next to Kazuha and eating grilled fish silently.

Your field of vision is abruptly engulfed by Kazuha's face. You have barely time to react, your body falling still as your attention is swallowed by the red of his eyes, which are focused on your mouth. You feel warmth press against the side of your mouth, your heart leaping to your throat at the sensation.

“Sorry,” he says, not looking at all sorry. “You had crumbs on your face.” Which does not explain why he has to kiss it off, but it was at this moment that you understand. Kazuha doesn’t lose balance and doesn’t do anything by mistake.

The dam crumbles.

The third happens when the night is creeping in on your first day, in some inn you didn’t bother looking at, too caught up in the way Kazuha is grinning at you in his own Kazuha-way: all soft and sweet.

“I can’t… believe—how long?”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer that,” he murmurs, closing the door behind you. “It wasn’t a grand revelation that happened one night. It just felt as if it was the only explanation.” His eyes flicker to you, keeping your faces close enough to where your noses are touching. He’s waiting for an answer.

“I had a crush on you the moment we met,” you confess, face hot. “And then it never went away, even when you had to leave. Distance makes the heart grow fonder or whatever.”

Kazuha’s smile tips on something a little more sly. “I apologize for keeping you waiting, then.”

Years and years of longing for Kazuha, rereading each and every one of his letters, and cherishing every second of when he comes to visit—all of it’s more than worth it if it led you here, in a secluded room, sharing hushed whispers with the boy you’ve wanted all your life.

“So… what are we—”

You’re rudely interrupted by Kazuha pecking your lips.

You frown. “Hey, wait, I’m—mmph—trying to—Kazuha!”

“I’m sorry,” he says, but he tugs you to his chest as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Sorry,” he murmurs again, but he’s leaving a trail of kisses along your jaw, smiling against your skin as you shiver.

“It’s okay,” you whisper in the quiet of the night, in the steady silence occasionally broken by the beating of your hearts. “It was an accident.”

“Mm,” he hums, nodding. “An accident.”

You stare at each other for a pregnant pause.

“This one isn’t, though,” Kazuha says and dives in for a kiss that leaves you breathless, years and years of buried feelings pouring over.

this was supposed to be for kazuha’s bday but i couldn't finish it in time :(!!! belated happy birthday to the greenest flag ever <3

[quin-ns]

The blue (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Series summary: JJ has a secret, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold onto it. He discovers his breaking point when his best friend starts to show interest in you, his step sister, who he’s already fallen hard for

Series tags: step brother!jj, dual pov, jealousy, one sided john b x reader, drinking, inappropriate relationship, public sex, oral sex (f receiving)

A/N: first series I’ve finished and I could not be more excited to share! please read the tags and if the subject matter is uncomfortable to you, you do not have to read. this one is a wild ride guys, I can’t wait for you to see what I have in store 🫶

Series masterlist + OBX masterlist

JJ didn’t really understand how this happened, but it did. When he tried to trace it all back, there wasn’t really one big moment. Just a bunch of small individual moments that amounted to… this. This feeling. This thing that kept him up at night that he couldn’t seem to get rid of.

He’d never been in love before, so it took JJ awhile to realize that’s what he felt for you.

Or maybe it was the denial. The moral part of his brain telling him it wasn’t normal. Your mom was married to his dad, so according to everyone else’s rules that made you his sister—even if he didn’t think about you in that context anymore.

He used to, when you both were younger. But that was before your mom got arrested. A large part of why JJ was so happy when you came into his life was because his dad eased up on him, finding some semblance of happiness with your mom.

But she wasn’t exactly perfect. To be with his dad, JJ always wondered what was wrong. As it would turn out, she had serious issues. Although, what they got her for was being a tax cheat. It added up how they could’ve met after that.

It was getting to be around… what, a little over a year since that happened? JJ couldn’t really keep track of the months and you never liked to talk about it.

As much as JJ loved his father, he knew he wasn’t a good guy. It didn’t matter if he wanted him to be. So it surprised him when his dad still let you stay with them. You’d been around since you were both about thirteen, so even if his dad didn’t think of himself as responsible for you (or even JJ), he at least cared enough to not throw you to the street.

That was about the same JJ got from him. Recognizing that is what brought you closer to him.

Sure, you’d been sort of close growing up, but not really. You mostly spent time with your mom and your own friends. Then, when everything went down, you lost your mom and your friends followed not long after. He saw the puffiness in your eyes when you’d come home and go to your room for the whole night. No one to hang out with after school and nowhere to go on a Saturday night. They had ditched you, apparently deciding that mocking you was more important than being there for you. It made his stomach hurt to see you in such a state. You didn’t smile for days.

So JJ, being the good step brother that he was, stepped in. He took you under his wing and brought your smile back.

You fit in well with his friends, easily becoming a part of the group. They liked having you around. JJ felt like he got to know you in a way he hadn’t ever before.

It was selfish, but you made being at home easier. You kept him company when he stayed up too late and made sure to wake him up in the morning so he wouldn’t be late to work whatever odd job he had at the time.

Whenever his dad hit him, which started again not long after your mom was locked up, you were there to take care of him.

You were so sweet with him. Your eyes always full of care and touches gentle as you cleaned his cuts or iced his bruises. It made it hurt less.

After one night when his dad hit him extra hard, leaving a cut from one of his rings on JJ’s face, you came to his aid as you frequently did. His dad stormed out after. It was just the two of you as you cleaned his face. You had him sit on the couch and stood over him, one hand holding his face while the other held a cloth to make sure the cut was clean.

As JJ stared up at you, your frustrated words about his father falling on deaf ears, one jarring thought crossed his mind.

You should kiss her.

He’d immediately stood up, snapping himself out of whatever daze he was in, and went to his room. You’d tried to talk to him, but he brushed you off and said he was tired. When he asked to be left alone, which was rare, you did.

He didn’t sleep most of the night. Instead he stared up at his ceiling wondering where that thought had even come from. He’d never had it before. From that moment on, JJ started to become much more aware of everything you did—everything you did for him.

Of course his friends loved him and cared about him, and he did the same for them, but with you something about it just felt different. You were by his side nearly every moment of the day. You saw things they didn’t. You were there when they couldn’t be.

You became everything to JJ. There was no other way to put it.

That was a couple months ago. Since then his confusing feelings had morphed into something far more.

JJ was deeply, madly in love with you. It was not something a guy should be with his step sister, but he was. He didn’t really deal with it, just shoved it down and tried to ignore it. It was hard, especially when he was around you every single day, but JJ had done his best.

JJ would catch himself staring at you more than he’d admit, but no one seemed to notice. No one would suspect what he was thinking anyway. He made excuses to touch you, like a hand on your back when moving past you to get something or draping his arm over your shoulder and leaning on you jokingly. The latter made you laugh, and he’d join you, but he’d still feel a loss when you playfully nudged him away and told him you weren’t an armrest.

Sometimes, when he didn’t care how pathetic it was, he’d let himself drink too much just so he could lean on you when you’d help him inside. When he pulled that stunt, he’d often get lucky and you’d even stay by his side to make sure he went to sleep comfortably. And of course whenever his dad struck, fists full of misplaced rage, you were there easing the pain.

JJ resolved to take what he could get and told himself he’d eventually he’d move on.

At least he hoped that’s how it would go. Maybe he’d get lucky and—

“Hello?” You waved a hand in front of JJ’s face. “I’m talking to you.”

JJ blinked. He looked at you, zoning back in. In an instant he remembered what was going on. You and him, along with his three best friends, were all on the beach. The others were in the water, while you had been sunbathing on shore and JJ… well, he’d just been sitting by you, wanting to be in your proximity (and sometimes steal glances when he couldn’t help himself).

But now you were on your feet, leaning down as you dropped your hand. JJ’s eyes fell from your face to your chest. He swallowed when he caught a glimpse down your bikini top.

His eyes flicked back to your face. Was that too obvious? He hoped not.

“Sorry, what?”

You gave him a confused look, but laughed and straightened up.

“Do you wanna get in?”

He knew you meant the water. In the distance he saw his friends waving for the two of you to join them.

JJ shook his head. The action felt as if it were in slow motion. Kind of like when he was high, but much less carefree.

“Um, maybe in a bit.”

If he got too distracted he’d probably drown in the ocean. That is if the guilt of keeping his secret from you didn’t do it first.

You shrugged, not able to read him the way you usually could.

“If you’re scared, there might be some floaties somewhere,” you teased as you turned your back, heading for the water.

JJ couldn’t formulate a comeback, too focused on the swing on your hips as you walked away from him.

He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed again, questioning his own self what was wrong with him. He’s never experienced such a desperate feeling before. What were you doing to him?

When he opened his eyes, you were in the water, and he had no answers.

He tried to focus on the sand, the water, the sky. Basically anything but you. He even tried to look at Kiara just to see if it would work, but his eyes always drifted back to you. The ache in his chest grew with each passing minute.

JJ didn’t think much of it when he saw Kiara suddenly haul herself up onto Pope’s shoulders, but he felt like he got kicked in the stomach when you climbed onto John B’s.

John B’s arms locked around your legs, the two of you laughing loudly as you steadied yourself. JJ could hear it from shore. You weren’t that far out. JJ knew he was focusing far more than necessary because he saw the way your hands brushed John B’s hair out of his face as he tilted his head back to look up at you.

Even from where he was, JJ could see how you smiled down at John B. It was innocent and friendly, and it made him incredibly jealous.

You and Kiara started to go at it, trying to knock the other into the water.

JJ didn’t think anyone noticed when he stood and walked down to the edge of the sand.

“You’re going down!” Kiara shouted, her hands interlocked with and pushing against yours as you both refused to budge.

You laughed loudly. It was like music.

It took one exchanged look from you and John B to formulate a plan. It was the kind of silent communication that JJ thought you reserved for him.

You let Kiara lean a lot of weight on you, and that’s where your advantage was. In an instant you relaxed your grip and John B stepped to the side. The other girl, and Pope beneath her, wobbled. It was over in a second. The two shouted right before they crashed down into the water.

“Ha!” you exclaimed, raising your hands in the air while John B whooped and hollered in celebration.

Kiara and Pope emerged, both rolling their eyes. It was their turn to share a look. As JJ waded into the water he figured out their plan.

With the two of them jumping at John B, it was easy to knock him off his feet. JJ’s eyes went a little wide when you fell into the water with a crash.

“Did you see that?” Kiara yelled with a grin when she spotted JJ.

“Kinda hard to miss,” he responded, looking around the water. It had been a few seconds and you had yet to reappear.

“They’re just messing with us,” Pope commented on your and John B’s absence, but his words started to sound less sure by the end.

Another long beat of silence passed. The waves grew still.

“This isn’t funny anymore!” Kie shouted.

JJ felt a twinge of panic, awful scenarios flashing through his head. It didn’t matter how unlikely they were.

Suddenly, water erupted. John B arose with a splash, you clinging to his back. He roared dramatically while shoving water towards Kie and Pope. They screamed as the waves hit them, trying and failing to shield themselves.

“Revenge!” you yelled in a maniacal manner, chin on John B’s shoulder.

“Truce! Truce!” Kie and Pope both yelled, spitting out saltwater.

John B paused, and JJ noticed how close his face was to yours when he turned his head.

“Should we forgive them?” John B deferred to you.

You hummed thoughtfully. “I think they learned their lesson,” you decided. Your gaze, which had been focused on John B, shifted past him. “Hey, look who made it!”

JJ realized you were talking to him. He forced a smile, smothering the jealousy he felt at seeing you and John B in the position you were in. It seemed weirdly close for you two. You and John B weren’t usually touchy-feely-piggyback-ride friends.

John B seemed to pick up on JJ’s shift in demeanor, because his smile was a little more contained as he said, “Hey, man.”

JJ figured his friend didn’t get that he was jealous, which was for the best. Everyone knew JJ was protective over you. John B probably thought JJ was questioning his intentions as your brother. Why would it be anything else?

“Nice victory,” JJ replied, having nothing better to say. He didn’t even grit his teeth, so he counted that as a win for himself.

Tension eased as you all decided to just chat and relax in the water until the sun set.

Although, JJ kept an eye on John B, noticing how his friend kept an eye on you.

When it got dark you all began to head back to the shore. JJ found himself at your side as he usually did. Your steps fell in line with his as you looked up.

“You feeling okay?” you asked lightly. You must’ve sensed his attitude shift, even if it was subtle. “You’ve been quieter than usual.”

JJ couldn’t help the urge to smile at how well you knew him.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, not wanting to concern you. He liked when you worried about him, but this was the one time when he didn’t want you pressing for him to open up. “Are you?”

JJ reached to ruffle your damp hair. You swatted his hand away before he could do any real damage.

“Very funny,” you grumbled. Your expression shifted to a smile, then softened. There was something careful about it. “If something was up, you’d tell me, right?”

JJ swallowed, trying to avoid the way your eyes searched his. He had to look forward before he could answer.

“Yeah, of course,” he assured.

JJ didn’t remember falling asleep on the couch, but he remembered everyone sitting around the living room.

Wait, no. That wasn’t right.

The porch. Everyone has been sitting on the porch, drinking and laughing together. He recalled cramming himself into a chair next to you. He’d played it off like a joke. Everyone had laughed, and he got to be close to you, so it worked out.

He also remembered following Kiara and Pope inside, expecting you to be behind him.

Everything clicked.

You and John B had elected to stay outside. JJ had been sitting on the couch, watching through the window, trying to make out what you were saying through the small opening where the window was cracked for the nighttime breeze.

He must’ve dozed off while waiting for you. That didn’t sound like him—he would’ve been focused on watching you, making sure you made it in. Maybe he had been worn out or you stayed up way too late, or both.

JJ blinked a few times. He was just concerned for your safety, like always. Fenced in porches with lights and his best friend keeping you company could be dangerous…

Yeah, he didn’t even buy that.

It was easier back when JJ believed his own lies and self justifications.

Sitting up, JJ peered out the window. It was the early hours of the morning, right around when it was still dark but you could just tell the sun was about to begin rising. His heart sped up when he found you missing from your chair. You weren’t in any of the other chairs in his view, either.

JJ stood up, feeling more awake than ever. He went right for the door and didn’t care about waking anyone inside up.

“Jeez, man,” John B said suddenly, sounding surprised as he looked at him. JJ had just barged out onto the porch out of nowhere, after all. “You good?”

JJ took a second to observe his friend. He was half-sitting and half-laying back on the couch against the wall. It made sense because he’d been sitting there before. From inside, JJ couldn’t see him, but he didn’t even think about John B’s whereabouts until he stepped out.

Maybe he was a bad friend for that.

He didn’t feel that guilty, though, because he saw where you were. You were curled up on the couch on your side, your head on John B’s thigh. JJ could see how steadily you were breathing, your eyes shut.

JJ looked back at his friend, ready to lash out, but the word ‘irrational’ popped up in his mind and resisted. The scene in front of him didn’t give him anything to be mad about.

Jealous, maybe, but not mad. But he couldn’t act on that feeling either. If he acted jealous, that would invite too many questions that JJ didn’t have a good answer for.

“Fine just…” He ran a hand through his hair and then shook his head. “You guys good?”

John B furrowed his brows a little, but chuckled.

“Yeah, we’re fine. We were just talking and she started to fall asleep and I just let her. She seemed tired and it wasn’t a big deal so...”

“What were you guys talking about?”

“I don’t know, stuff?”

JJ leaned back in the doorway. “Like what, though?”

John B tilted his head a little, shaking it ever so slightly.

“Just… life and stuff. Does it matter?”

“I guess not,” JJ replied, giving the appropriate answer. He looked down at you, noticing you hadn’t stirred. You looked comfortable, and that was very conflicting. All of this was. It made his head hurt. “Has she been asleep long?”

John B met JJ’s eyes when he looked back up from you.

“You sure you’re okay?” John B asked, sounding almost concerned. Or at least confused. Maybe both.

But the answer was no. No he wasn’t.

“Yeah, man,” JJ answered with a shrug. “She probably won’t wake up if you wanna get up and go get some sleep.”

John B looked down at you, then at JJ.

He slowly started to move, being extra careful with your head, making sure to put a cushion beneath you before standing up straight.

John B gave a light, awkward smile to JJ as he neared him. He brushed past to go through the door, turning to face JJ.

“You coming?”

“Actually, I think I’m gonna sleep out here,” JJ answered, fighting the urge to look at you. He gave a shrug instead and said, “It’s nice out and I can’t get comfortable on the couch anyway. You can have it—plus I think Kie’s in your bed, so…”

“Right…” John B agreed slowly, glancing at you on the couch again. “You know nothing happened, right?” He looked back at JJ. “We were just talking.”

JJ wasn’t expecting something so direct. “It’s cool man, I know,” he found himself replying. “We’re good.”

John B nodded, albeit slowly. He entered the dark house and JJ shut the door behind him. As a courtesy.

He then turned, spotted the comfiest chair, and resolved to sleep in that for the night. You had stretched out on the couch and looked too peaceful to disturb, even if he did want to take John B’s place from before.

It worked out perfectly. It gave him a clear view of you as he decided to let himself go back to sleep.

As his eyes closed, he wondered if John B would peek through the window just as he had.

If he did, he’d see the content smile on JJ’s face as he drifted off to sleep. For yet another night, JJ got you all to himself. He didn’t want it any other way. He wasn’t sure what he would do.

[chillinglyadventurous]

Pissed Off

Thank you for the request, anon! As someone who is also pissed off today, I hope this calms us both. However, I took a bit of a twist.

Tags: fighting, toxic relationships

Fiddleford had caught you off guard as you sat in the kitchen with a book in your hand. You had heard the screaming, the yelling, but your friend’s chest heaved now. His gaze was unfocused and bewildered. “That machine ain’t safe and yer fiancé’s tinkerin’ with it like it’s a toy. It’s gonna end the world!”

“Fidds,” you stared, “what happened? Are you okay?”

He didn’t answer you, running from your home as if he had just escaped certain death. You knew Fiddleford was right. He’d been warning Ford for months, trying to get you on bis side, but Stanford had insisted and brushed the two of you off with that genius air of his. He had said over and over again that he was in control. His muse was an expert.

You couldn’t keep quiet anymore. Enough was enough. Whatever happened scared Fiddleford so badly he wouldn’t even explain, storming out, so you stormed down the stairs, ripping into Ford’s lab with a wild look in your eyes. Your glare fixed itself onto the giant, triangle portal which dominated the room, making you feel small. Fiddleford’s warning echoed in your mind and fueled your exhaustion with this, with being second place to everything in his life. 

What pissed you off the most that Ford didn’t even look up at you. His attention was fully focused on the loose sheets of calculation in front of him. “Stanford Filbrick Pines, are you out of your mind?”

It was like he didn’t even hear you. Your fists clenched, knuckles white as the anger filling you boiled over. In one swift motion, you grabbed the stack of notes off the table in front of him and threw them into the air. Pages flew everywhere, floating down in a fluttering mess. You met his glare with your own. Your eyes were full of rage.

It was as if his whole body shaked is disbelief. You caught him off guard, lost in his wondering of where his muse had disappeared off too. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“This isn’t worth it, Stanford! None of this is worth it!” You shredded the papers that landed at your feet, ripping them apart mercilessly. You watched the pieces fall to the ground. You didn’t care how many hours he had put into it. You didn’t care how meticulous he was. Fuck this.

You kicked over a chair, not knowing what had so quickly come over you. It didn’t matter. You needed to get a message through his thick skull. The chair crashed against the wall and the wood splintered. The sound boomed through the room. You didn’t care. You couldn’t care. All you could see was that portal and the man you loved throwing his goddamn life away for the sake of some mystery, some fucking puzzle. 

You hurled one of his many gadgets across the room. The sound of glass shattering startled you, but you didn’t stop. You truly didn’t know if you were capable of stopping. Not yet anyways. So, you threw another, watching it smash against one of his many workbenches. The wires and circuits scattered across the floor like every single one of his broken promises. 

“Stop! [Y/N], please, stop!” 

Ford’s voice cut through the chaos and you turned to him, eyes blazing. “You promised me!” You screamed, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction, “You said this wouldn’t consume you! You said this was safe! Did you see Fiddleford’s face? What did you do to him?!” A hateful laugh escaped you. You gestured wildly around you, “Is this worth it? All of this? Is it worth losing your best friend? Is it worth losing me?”

Ford stood frozen in front of you, your words cutting deep. You lunged at him, you fists pounding against his chest in a plea for him to stop this, whatever it was. You weren;t sure, but it could kill him. It could take him away from you. You didn’t want to lose him.The heel of both of your fists met his chest again and he grabbed you. 

He needed to stop you and you fought him the entire way, even as he pinned your back to the far wall. Tears streamed down your cheeks then and you tried to fight him off, but he was too strong. “I didn’t realize-”

“You never realize!” You screamed into his face. You struggled against him, never stopping until his body was pressed flush to yours, hands pinned between you. “You are always so wrapped up in your work that you forget about everything else. About us! Do you even care anymore?!”

He did his best to hush you. A hand cradled your head and hid your face in his neck. You shook your head, tears burning in your eyes, but the anger was fading now, replaced by exhaustion. “I don’t want to lose you, Ford. I can’t stand by and watch you throw your life away for this obsession.”

He held you as you screamed, tears rolling down your cheeks. Your hands covered your face as he tried to kiss away what you were feeling. He didn’t speak, just trying to calm you. You knew it, you knew, this wouldn’t stop. You were going to lose him to this portal, to his muse, whatever, whoever, it was. Ford wasn’t yours, not anymore. Instead, you let him hold you, savoring what was left. You knew, deep down, he wouldn’t be yours for much longer.

[chucky-vs-the-giant-tortoise]

i’ve got you

JJ Maybank x sister!reader

summary: an anxious Y/N feels overwhelmed while partying with the pogues at the boneyard, and JJ does his best to calm her nerves.

warning(s): underaged drinking, panic attack

a/n: a big thank you to anyone who enjoyed my last maybank!sister snippet. i hope to write a lot more for JJ in the future, so feel free to leave any requests if you have any specific ideas of what you’d like to read!

also please let me know if i should make these shorter. lol. i'm never sure.

Y/N screwed her eyes shut, trying and failing to keep her hands from trembling as they dented her red solo cup. Her heart was beating so fast that her head could barely keep up, the loud music and sweaty bodies that enclosed her doing nothing to ease her mind.

It was a picturesque summer night out in the boneyard, which of course meant that the Pogues just had to have a kegger. Y/N had grown used to the routine by then, tagging along as they went out to buy the keg and an insane amount of plastic cups that Kie always complained she found littered all over the beach the morning after. Y/N typically helped in the prep for whatever wild evening lay ahead, and had even served as a DD the few times that the Pogues got plastered enough to willingly allow a 15-year-old to drive the Twinkie. However, despite her brother's constant pleading and nagging, she'd never actually attended one of their infamous beach parties.

At least, not until tonight.

Y/N had always been shy, the complete opposite of her elder brother and all of his wild impulsivity. She hated big crowds and loud noises, and even though she would occasionally drink one while out on the Pogue, she wasn't even the biggest fan of beer. But JJ had begged her to join them all day long, poking and prodding at her nerves in his attempts to finally get his baby sister out of her shell.

"Come on, Y/N. You really wanna spend the rest of your life cooped up in the chateau?" he'd said dramatically, throwing his hands up in desperation. "You really oughtta live a little sometime."

You really oughtta live a little sometime.

His words had haunted her well into the evening, and at the last minute she'd finally decided to bite the bullet. JJ was right, after all. While most kids her age were busy making memories and taking risks, she spent her evenings curled up with a book in her lap.

Sure, it wouldn't be the most comfortable experience, but what was the worst that could happen? After all, like her brother always said, stupid things had good outcomes all the time.

She made a mental note to correct JJ on that stupid motto as someone pushed past her, blowing chunks into the bushes only a few feet away from rigid form.

Y/N covered her nose, averting her gaze just in time to notice a familiar head of blond hair breaking through the mess of bodies whooping and grinding on one another.

"Holy shit!" JJ hollered wildly, dimples painfully visible in his state of drunken bliss. "Tom, that's some gnarly shit, man! Trust me, you're gonna feel that tomorrow." He gave the boy a pat on the back as he retched, though thankfully the steady stream of vomit had ended.

Y/N only stood and watched. It was clear that JJ hadn't seen her, but maybe that was for the best. The last thing she wanted was to ruin his night.

"Yo, Y/N/N!"

Too late.

JJ made his way over in sloppy strides, and Y/N turned up her nose at the stench of alcohol clinging to him. He pulled her into him with an arm slung over her shoulders.

"Hi, Jay." Y/N hoped her brother was drunk enough not to notice the tremble in her voice.

"Where'd you go, kid? I've been looking for you all night." He was leaning on her now, gleefully unaware as he slowly crushed her beneath his weight. Y/N groaned with the effort it took to keep her brother upright, struggling not to remind him that it was in fact he who left her to do some shots and never returned.

"Yeah I was . . . I was j-just--"

"Shit, I didn't know you were drinking. That's my girl," he slurred with a wink, pointing at the cup Y/N was damn near close to dropping. It was all getting too much for her—JJ's weight boring into her side, the overwhelming stench of beer, the screaming mouths and dancing bodies slowly closing her in. She felt like a caged animal, her lungs tight and chest heavy.

"Hey, you seen Pope yet? I lost him an hour ago—saw him walk off with some blonde chick with a tramp stamp. Oh, you need a top-up? You should go now, 'm pretty sure the keg's getting low."

JJ continued to ramble on as Y/N crumbled underneath him, her eyes searching desperately for somewhere to go.

"Aw man, I love this song!" Y/N gasped as JJ began jerking her around, forcing her to sway back and forth with him. "Yo, Kurt! Turn that shit up bro!"

Y/N felt blood rushing to her ears, her hands growing clammy as her nerves took over. You're fine, she told herself. You're fine, you're fine. But it wasn't working—she couldn't hear herself think over the music blaring from the speakers.

"Come on, loosen up Y/N! Let's dance!"

"No!" Y/N reached her breaking point, escaping from beneath her brother's outstretched arm. JJ stumbled, just barely managing to catch himself and get a good look at the fear etched into Y/N's features.

"What? Y/N—" He held out a hand that she cringed away from, breathing raggedly as she did.

"Just leave me alone!"

"Y/N!" JJ called after her as she ran off, not knowing exactly where she was headed but intent on getting away. She wound up crouching behind a small hill across from the bustling core of the party, far enough away that the music finally fell to an acceptable volume.

Y/N brought her knees to chest and buried her face in them, fingers tugging at her hair as tears spilled from her eyes. Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she be dumb enough to let JJ convince her that this would be a good idea? Y/N forced her breathing to slow as her chest tightened, coughing in her feeble attempts.

Y/N had listened to a few songs run their course by the time she managed to get a grip on herself, her breaths steadying as she counted eight-second inhales and eight-second exhales. Still Y/N rested her forehead against her knees, so dead-set on staying calm that she didn't notice the sound of JJ's footsteps in the sand.

"Hey." Y/N gasped, her head shooting upright as she scrambled to back away from whoever had found her. "Hey, calm down. It’s alright, Y/N." She sighed in relief when she recognized JJ's outline in the dark, her brother crouched before her shrunken form. "It's okay. Just me."

"Oh," she mumbled. "Sorry."

"'S okay. Didn't mean to scare you." He awkwardly held out another cup to her, which she observed warily. "Don't worry, it’s just water. Figured it might help more than beer."

Y/N smiled, accepting JJ's peace offering gratefully. "You'd be right about that." She greedily drank it all in one gulp, only then realizing how dry her mouth had gotten. "Thanks, Jay."

"Least I could do, since I forced you to come her." Y/N sighed, noticing the guilt swimming in her brother's blue eyes.

"You didn't force me."

"Well, I might as well have."

"it's not your fault, JJ." He rested a comforting hand on her knee.

"Sure it is. I knew you didn't like this kind of scene and I dragged you here anyway." He ran his free hand through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut as regret consumed his intoxicated mind.

"It's okay." Y/N shuffled closer to him, resting her head on his shoulder. JJ ruffled her hair. "Sorry I can't be a party animal like you."

"Ah, don't sweat it. Makes my job a lot easier, anyway." Y/N giggled, shoving him lightly, and JJ couldn't help but smile. "So, what's the plan? Want me to drive you home?"

Y/N scoffed. "I don't even think you could if you tried."

"Oh, Y/N," He teased her with a smile, "you severely underestimate my driving skills."

"And you severely overestimate my willingness to die." JJ chuckled at that. "Plus, who said I wanted to leave?"

"You’re gonna stay?'

"Yeah, why not? I mean, I've made myself a pretty comfy hideout over here." JJ pouted.

"I guess . . ." He looked down at his sister with a smirk. "Or you could try the party again."

Immediately Y/N felt that skin-crawling uncertainity take over once more. She bit at her bottom lip. "I don't . . . I dunno, Jay."

"Look, I promise I won't leave you this time. We can just sit around the campfire—maybe try to find Kie or something. What'd'ya think?" He held out a hand to her. "We'll take it slow."

Y/N considered this for a moment, eventually taking hold of her brother's hand. "Okay."

"Sweet!" JJ tried his best to stand, but only wound up falling back on his ass. "I'm gonna need some help getting up, though."

Y/N laughed, hoisting her brother to his feet with a grunt, and JJ smiled as she allowed her hand to linger in his while they walked. The very same way she did when they were little.

Just like JJ promised, he found the two of them a space to sit by the blazing campfire and never left Y/N's side.

・❥・

Hours had passed before the kegger had begun to die down, their beer long gone and speakers long dead. The rest of the Pogues had finally joined the Maybanks around the fire pit, and the group listened comfortably as Kie plucked at the strings of her ukulele. "Y'know what, Jay? I wouldn't mind trying this kegger thing again."

JJ smiled. "You mean it?"

"Yeah, I mean it." She snuggled closer to his chest, absorbing whatever extra heat his body offered. "As long as you're there to hold my hand."

[beat-the-morning]

🖤🎄Under the tree || Hozier x Reader🎄🖤

READ ON TUMBLR UNDER CUT || READ ON AO3

Rating: +18 || smut

Tags: 🎄Christmas Themed Fic🎄, face-fucking, cunnilingus, oral sex (both receiving), come swallowing, light dom/sub (fork found in kitchen), light bondage

Summary: You have a very special gift for Andrew this Christmas (the gift is you.)

Word count: 1.9k

A/N: Yes, I know it’s not Christmas anymore. No, I don’t care about that, time isn’t real anyway. Shoutout to my editor (oomf) for editing while I get ready to post the fic. If there are any remaining typos fight them Not me. I’m not the one editing one handed, they are.

A/N 2: Everyone cheer that it only took me 20 days to write another fic instead of the usual month. Another one for that white boy of the year poll coming soon(ish). Hope you all had a very nice Christmas🎄❤️

💙FULL FIC UNDER CUT💙

It was Christmas Eve, Andrew was on his way back home from a Christmas charity busk in Dublin that you decided to stay home for so you could prepare a special surprise for him. You had told him as much when he asked you to go for the first time, which unnerved him slightly. You had instructed him to have dinner while he was out, so you could focus on the surprise when he got back.

He was 45 minutes away, and everything was ready, except you, that is. Your surprise was divided in smaller parts that you’d show him in the morning, but you needed to get ready for tonight’s, you were fresh out of the shower and smelled like cinnamon and sugar cookies, you walked out of the bathroom with nothing on and grabbed a few strips of red silk fabric and gift wrapping paper as you made your way downstairs to the Christmas tree. Then, carefully, wrapped yourself up as a gift for Andrew. The paper enveloped your ass and front, going up around your abdomen and chest, creating almost a dress shape, your legs tied together by the ankles and thighs while you kneeled in front of the tree. You tied a nice red silk bow on your hair and another one on your mouth, making it so you wouldn’t be able to speak, finally, you tied your hands together with the rest of the red fabric.

You waited patiently for around five minutes before Andrew finally got back, the lights in the house were off, the only light being candles, both real and battery-powered, that you had put around the house to create a path from the front door to the living room and from there to the bedroom. Andrew smiled as he went in, his mind going wild with ideas of what you could’ve been preparing for him.

“I’m back!” He called out as he took off his shoes and coat in the entryway, the house was warm and he could hear the crackling in the fireplace, so he took off his sweater, too, remaining in just his pants and a button-up shirt (with an undershirt under it). He made his way to the living room, following the candles, his eyes scanned the room looking for you when he entered, his eyes and smile widening when he saw you wrapped like a present under the tree. You tried your best not to move when he spotted you, though you could already feel an all too familiar dampness between your legs.

He walked over to you, his stride confident and smug, he squatted next to you, his hand caressing from your knees, up to the bow on your thighs with what could only be described as a lustful fire in his eyes. His hand moved softly up your paper dress and to your face, he held your chin firmly between his fingers, making you look at him. “Was this your surprise, love?” He teased, smirking.

You hummed and tried to nod to say yes, your eyes wide and submissive as you looked at him. Andrew smiled.

“Let me get this off you, sweetness.” He chuckled, taking off the bow on your mouth and giving you a quick tender kiss. “There we go, how are you feeling, baby?”

“Good.” You answered.

“I’m glad,” he kissed you again before standing up, his hand still holding your chin. “So, did you have a plan for after I got here or..?” He wandered.

“No, no plan, you can do whatever you want, I’m your present after all. Happy Christmas!” You smiled innocently.

His eyes darkened with lust. “Good,” he chuckled. “What’s your safeword for when you can’t speak, darling?”

You snapped your fingers twice. He smiled, his hand moving to undo his belt and pants. “I love getting new toys for Christmas.” He murmured, a shiver ran down your spine and straight into your core. He pulled out his cock without even taking off his pants, it was hard and leaking already. His other hand moved to your cheek, caressing it lovingly. “Don’t move your head, I’ll do everything, just sit and enjoy my cock like the little slut you are, okay?” He commanded.

“Oka-“ you went to speak but he cut you off before you could get a word out.

“Shh shh shh.” He shushed you, a finger over your lips. “Toys don’t talk. Now, nod if you’re okay with this.”

You nodded, mind fuzzy with arousal. He gently guided your mouth to open, slowly guiding his cock into it. He started thrusting gently, both his hands holding your head at this point, his cock teasing the back of your throat while you held your thumbs in your fists to get rid of the gag reflex as best as you could, though it was never quite enough thanks to his size.

He sped up, moaning softly as he fucked your mouth. His hands still caressed your face and hair every so often, you hummed in response, sending vibrations all through his shaft. “You fucking love this, don’t you? Being my toy, letting me use you, just- mmph!” A moan escaped him. “Just being mine.” He growled as he said that last word, gripping your head tighter and quickening his pace even more. He bared his teeth, sucking in a breath through them while scrunching up his face.

Andrew’s hand moved to the back of your head, taking your hair in his fist and using it to move your head closer to himself, he was moaning loudly, his face still scrunched up. Drool was running down your chin and dropping onto your breasts, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, the wrapping paper dampening because of your wetness. You blinked a couple times, your eyes focusing on Andrew, he was glowing in the soft light of the candles and the Christmas tree, his hair wild and unruly, he was looking up, mouth agape while he moaned, you could see his neck, red and blushing, you could only imagine how the rest of him had to be. His hands on your head were still freezing from when he was outside, the cold serving as an anchor keeping you in reality.

You kept humming as he fucked your mouth, whimpering every time he bottommed out and hit the back of your throat. You felt him twitch in your mouth, the taste of his precum already in your mouth, his moans became shorter and more breathy, he was close. His grip on your head tightened once more, he pushed his cock all the way in, then quickly pulled almost all the way out, you sucked him, knowing he was about to come. He smirked.

“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He murmured, his voice deep and thick with lust, his Irish accent somehow more noticeable than before. He continued to fuck your throat. “Wanna swallow, baby? Hm? We can’t make a mess yet, can we? I haven’t even finished playing with my toy.”

You moved your head ever so slightly, taking his dick as deep as you could, he smiled, humping your face a couple times before he came down your throat with a loud moan. Your nose was buried in his pubic bone as he emptied himself, his trimmed hairs brushing against your face before he finally pulled out, a string of saliva and cum still joining your lips with his shaft. He breathed, petting your hair lovingly with one hand while putting himself back in his pants with the other.

“You’re fuckin’ amazing, did you know that?” He said softly, a loving smile on his face. He kneeled down next to you, looking at the bows on your arms and legs that restrained your movements, then at the wrapping paper that covered your body. “I think I should finish opening my present, don’t you?” He teased, chuckling softly.

He ripped open the paper, throwing it away the second it wasn’t touching you anymore. His hands, still cold, moved to your chest, fondling and squeezing it, your nipples hardened almost immediately, letting him pinch and pull at them. You moaned and whimpered, your back arching towards him. His hands wandered lower on your body, untying the bows on your thighs and ankles, you raised your hands for him to untie as well, but instead he moved them to be behind his neck so that you would be holding onto him.

With that, he picked you up and carried you to the bedroom, making you squeal at the sudden movement. “Andy!” You giggled as he walked. “Put me down!”

“Absolutely not,” he smiled, “I haven’t finished with you yet.”

He laid you down on the bed, taking your arms by the bow that tied them together, moving them away from his head and towards the headboard, making another knot to tie them to it. You pulled at your restraints, and sure enough, they didn’t budge, making Andrew smile.

“You look so pretty when you’re tied up, did you know that?” He whispered, leaning in to kiss your jaw and neck.

You moaned softly at the kisses, your body moving instinctively towards his touch. He went lower, kissing down from your collarbone, along your chest and abdomen, and finishing by kissing your mound. Your legs parted for him, he settled between them, putting your thighs over his shoulder and holding them tight.

“I won’t go overboard tonight, I promise,” he smiled again, placing a quick kiss on your thigh. You nodded, knowing what was to come.

He dove into you like it was his first meal in weeks, lapping at your juices with fervour, he moaned at your taste, moving his head side to side while pushing forward to get closer to you, his nose rubbed against your clit as he moved his mouth lower, his tongue darting out to thrust inside your core. You pulled at your restraints again, soft whines from frustration and pleasure mixing together. Your hips moved involuntarily, increasing the friction between your clit and his nose, your climax quickly building up thanks to your existing arousal. Andrew’s hand moved around your thigh and towards your clit, playing with it while his tongue went in and out of you again and again. His beard scratched your thighs, you could feel his smile on your core and hear it in the moans loud enough to not be drowned and muffled in your body.

Your legs started to twitch slightly, the all familiar coil in your stomach threatening to snap. Your breathing became irregular, making you whimper softly, the sounds only encouraging him further, his fingers on your clit moving faster and faster until you finally reached your peak. Your hips buckled into his face as you moaned loudly, he drank every drop of your essence as your legs shook ever so slightly, your moans quickly turning into whines.

He pulled away slowly, kissing your inner thighs before finally untying your wrists. He massaged them softly, kissing both of them before speaking softly.

“All good, love?” He asked softly.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

He pulled you into a hug, laying down on the bed and letting you rest on his chest while he played with your hair.

“That was a wonderful gift, by the way.” He whispered into your hair.

“It’s just the first of many,” you smiled, your voice slightly hoarse from moaning. “Not all of them are like this one, though.”

He chuckled, his other hand squeezing you lovingly. “I didn’t expect them to be, don’t worry.” He kissed your hair. “Happy Christmas, my love.”

“Happy Christmas, darling.”

[thefreakandthehair]

we feel a little warmer now.

rating: teen & up | wc: 1.1k | tags: canon-typical injuries, pre-relationship, getting together, fluff, light hurt/comfort | prompt: love is a fire that never goes out @steddielovemonth & a happy birthday gift for @henderdads! title from the woods, by hollow coves.

February in Indiana is still the dead of winter— cornfields are barren, trees sway in the wind without their leaves, and the sky seems to have a sheer layer of grey even on the cloudless days.

Eddie’s always loved winter. The shorter days followed by longer nights, snowy Sundays, watching the smoke from a joint or cigarette dance in the freezing air, and excuses to do donuts in the local abandoned grocery store parking lot. He’s always loved winter, or at least he did until his world shattered at his feet, leaving him with injuries that take ages to heal and scars that leave him perpetually cold.

It’s been difficult to explain, even to the people who’d lived it with him. He can’t fully enjoy winter anymore because the cold seeps into his bones, maybe through the scars, maybe just because of the nerve damage. He’ll never know for sure because Hawkins General doesn’t exactly have a Demobat Specialist on staff so he just keeps it to himself.

Well, mostly. Steve knows.

Hiding anything from Steve has proven impossible. His constant chill, his frustration with the new but still-improving limp, the grief, the guilt, the confusing simultaneous euphoria of survival. The only secret he’s managed to keep is the big fat crush he’s harbored, probably since Steve helped find him in the woods.

Maybe earlier. Maybe since high school. He tries not to think about it too much.

The point is, Steve knows and even if Eddie hasn’t said that it breaks his heart to lose the quiet winter nights smoking on the porch or the hood of his van, Steve figures that out, too.

He must, because Eddie nearly jumps out of his freezing skin when knuckles rap on the front door of his and Wayne’s new trailer. There’s a system these days: check the peep hole, crack the door with the chain still attached to confirm, and only then does Eddie open the door completely. An unfortunate system, but he’s far from the town hero that Steve’s been hailed as, albeit against his will.

Speaking of, through the peep hole, he sees Steve standing on his porch wrapped in what looks like a thick hoodie and winter coat.

“Who goes there?” Eddie asks, cracking the door and peering out with one eye.

“It’s me, you ass. Let me in, I have a surprise.”

The door chain unhooks with a metallic click and Steve enters the trailer like he belongs there.

Because he does, Eddie thinks.

“A surprise? For me? Oh, do tell.”

Steve stands in the living room, a live wire if Eddie’s ever seen one. His hair is a little messy, as though he’s been raking his fingers through it. His nose is pink, complemented by his frosty cheeks, and his eyes are wide and wild.

“If it’s overstepping or whatever, we can pretend I never mentioned it but I know how much you miss winter nights. And I uh, I built a fire pit at my house?” His voice pitches up, as though it’s a question.

“You built a fire pit? Today?”

Steve nods. “Yeah. It was a lot easier than I thought it would be honestly, time consuming but, yeah. I built a fire pit. And I was thinking that maybe with the fire and some blankets and a good jacket— a real winter coat, not just your leather jacket— you might be able to get some of that back.”

Eddie tries his best not to think about Steve lugging brick pavers and forcing them into place, thinking about Eddie and his stupid broken internal thermostat. Wanting to give him back something the Upside Down took. Worrying Eddie would somehow see this as overstepping.

It’s a quick Yes and even quicker drive to Loch Nora, a drive that Eddie’s always found hilarious. How can two neighborhoods exist so close together but feel like different worlds?

The whole way there, Eddie keeps Steve talking. If Steve’s talking, there’s less room for Eddie to spill yet another truth inadvertently, the only one left to spill. Instead, he asks questions about work, and Robin, and if he’s heard from his parents.

(“It sucks,” “she’s great,” “nope”. In that order.)

Pulling into the driveway, Eddie hops out of the car as best he can in one of Wayne’s old winter coats and follows Steve to the backyard. His jaw drops when he sees exactly what Steve’s done. More than a simple circle of bricks, there’s a pit made of concrete blocks in the center of a larger circle filled with wood chips and grey pavers marking the perimeter. Wood logs are already split in a pile off to the side next to two lawn chairs and dear God, Eddie really hopes that Steve bought that already split. He’s still not over him swinging on demobats with his bare hands, and the image of him with an axe is enough to put him down for good.

“C’mon, I’ll get it started,” Steve nudges their shoulders together and walks through the pit to the stack of logs.

Steve gets a roaring fire going, the kind that cracks and burns both red and blue, and passes Eddie an extra blanket. Flames dance beneath the clear sky, speckled with stars that do little to distract him from how unbearably warm he is for the first time in months.

People don’t just do things like this for him, not without expectation or out of obligation. So much of Eddie’s life has felt like a spectrum spanning from pity to transactional with very few exceptions in between.

Then again, Steve feels like an exception to a lot of things.

“Why?” Eddie eventually asks, exhaling a puff of cigarette smoke like a kid seeing his breath.

Steve shrugs and tosses the butt of his own cigarette into the flames. “You lost enough down there, and I know how that feels. If there’s something easy enough to fix, I want to. You deserve that.”

Eddie turns and sees Steve smiling, just a soft upturn of his lips as he looks up at the sky. His face is flushed and Eddie wants to think it’s not from the flames.

“You’re really something, you know that?” Eddie says, scooting his chair over close enough for the arms of their chairs to nearly touch.

Steve looks back from the sky to Eddie, long lashes and the scar on his neck on full display.

“That a good thing?”

Eddie nods. “Oh yeah, definitely. Maybe the best thing.”

They sit outside for hours, eventually sharing a blanket draped around their shoulders and a first kiss that lights him up from the inside.

Eddie’s warm long after the fire burns out.

[mendeshoney]

this close isn't close enough

a/n: happy thirsty thurday fellow harlots ^_^

this is a small little part 3 ish/sequel to take me back to eden (you can find part one here and part two here) that just popped into my head and i figured i'd jot it down for you all to enjoy. it does discuss wanting and trying for a child, so if that's not something you're comfortable with, this may not be for you, so read with caution. this is for @pyotrkochetkov and @smileysvech because without them this fictional andrei wouldn't exist! title is from "melt" by kehlani

warnings/tags: nine year age gap, older man x younger woman, slice of married life, baby fever, fluff, lots of smut, shower sex, hotel sex (semi-public, against the window), oral sex, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy/impregnation

word count: 12,163

“Almaznyy?” Andrei calls out, removing his reading glasses with one hand as he shuts his laptop with the other, then rubs the bridge of his nose.

He counts to ten in his head, waiting for your response, but it doesn’t come. The soft and familiar whrrrrr of a machine echoes back at him instead, and he sighs, a small smile stretching across his face as he gets up from his desk to wander down the hall.

When he makes it down the hall and to the threshold that leads to you, he's not surprised in the slightest to find you at your pottery wheel. Your back is to him as you sit on your stool, headphones on as your body lightly moves along to the music playing, hands firm and shaping the clay in front of you into what he knows is the makings of a teapot.

Beside you, on the work table, Andrei sees two mugs newly finished with their handles attached, two finished matching saucer plates that need to be painted with glaze and fired, and two little spoons, already fired and glazed, probably newly taken out of the kiln. Beyond that, he also spots two jars - one for honey and one for sugar cubes, you had told him - and three brand new jars of glaze.

He takes a second to himself to just silently admire you, his beautiful wife of nearly two years, and lets his heart beat wild and content in his chest.

Andrei had converted one of his guest rooms into your own little art studio not long after you moved in with him, and by converted, he means he took out all the furniture, stripped the carpet, and let you decorate and furnish it how you saw fit.

He tried his best to learn as much as he could about what kinds of art you liked creating, the tools you used, but in truth, a lot of it was lost on him, and you had more mediums of art you were interested in than you cared to admit. Andrei had ended up giving you his card instead, telling you to buy whatever it was you needed or wanted, so that the space became exactly what you had always dreamed of.

You had been meticulous about it, too, and Andrei adored every second of watching you design the space back then. The flooring was first - you insisted on water and stain proof vinyl floors - followed by shelves, storage drawers, a small desk, your massive work table, and other organizing things. Then, once you had a place and space for everything, you bought canvases, a pottery wheel, clay, easels, paints, a sketchbook, pencils, pens, markers, and more.

You’d bought a kiln, too, which had its own place in a little shed he bought and had built for you outside. Since you'd gotten back into pottery and started making pieces, you'd been able to sell some to a few of the wives, girlfriends, and partners of players on the team, as well as some of Andrei's co-workers in the Canes' front office. You had even put a few up of your paintings and drawings you'd done on your larger canvases in their charity auctions over the last couple of years, which had given you a significant amount of your own money.

Andrei encouraged you to go legit and open up a shop, which was an idea you'd been slowly getting used to. You'd set up a website so far, and had sold your first collection a couple of months ago - planters and vases and hanging planters and such - which had done extremely well, but you insisted you wanted to still be able to find fun in doing it again instead of allowing it to feel like an obligation.

To help with that as of late, had been your project of a tea set for his mom's birthday, which was still months away. You'd been using the kiln a lot more because of it, for test pieces as well as the actual pieces themselves, so more often than not lately, your art studio is where he found you.

"If you call for me and I don't respond to you in ten seconds," you'd told him when you first started on the set, "I'm either in here, or at the kiln out back."

Quietly, he observes as you shape the lump of clay in the center of your wheel into a sphere, then, unhappy with the roundness, you carefully squeeze at it until it's back into another lump, before shaping it out once more. The rise of your shoulders before they tense as you start to create a hole in the middle of the clay, and the fall of them again when you start to pinch at the walls until it forms into the exact shape you want.

Only when you stop the wheel and dip your hands into the bowl of water beside you to get rid of the excess clay does Andrei approach, carefully placing his hands on your shoulders to give you a gentle squeeze.

You tilt your head back, bumping it into his abdomen gently as you gaze up at him with his favorite dazzling smile. He carefully removes your headphones, putting it on the work table and smoothing your hair down.

"Hi baby," he murmurs, bending down to press a kiss to your forehead, the tip of your nose, and then to your lips.

You hum softly before sitting up, turning yourself around on the stool to face him. "Hi handsome," you return, grabbing a towel from the work table and wiping your hands before settling them on his waist, fingers playing with the belt loops of his jeans. "Did you call for me a lot?"

"Just once," he says, unable to resist bending down to kiss you again.

He loves looking at you like this, soft in the mid morning light, a blissful smile on your face with dots of clay and glaze over your cheeks and on the little apron you have covering your clothes. He loves how he can smell the vanilla of your body wash among the earthen scents in the art studio, and how it makes him feel like he's completely at peace.

Andrei loves you. His almaznyy. His beautiful diamond. His wife.

"What's going on?" You ask him, those beautiful eyes crinkling at the edges in another one of his favorite smiles when his hands descend into your hair, carding the strands between his fingers.

"I bought the tickets for us to go and visit Evgeny and Sara." He says.

"Oh good," you say with a nod before leaning into his touch. "When do we leave?"

"Next week," he says, tugging playfully on a strand of your hair and chuckling softly when you pout at him for it. "Is that okay?"

You wrap your arms around his waist, rubbing your face into his clothed abdomen, your verbal response muffled in the fabric. Andrei laughs, scratching gently at your scalp. "What was that, almaznyy?"

"Da," you say, leaning back to look at him again but keeping your arms secured around his waist. "That's fine with me."

He smirks when he spots a familiar glint in your eyes, watching the way your pupils dilate then blow out a little wide when he cups your face in his hands, thumbs caressing at your jaw. "My busy little almaznyy, you've been working hard lately, haven't you?"

You nod, humming in agreement. He nods too, letting one of his hands trail down and to the back of your neck, deftly undoing the knots at the top of your apron. "So diligent," he praises, "What did I do to deserve you?"

Your eyes track him as he removes his hands from your body, lowering himself to his knees so he can wrap his arms around your waist to get at the ties behind you. He buries his face into your neck as he does so, adoring the way your head immediately tilts to allow him the room. He ghosts his lips across the skin as he undoes the ties around your waist, ignoring your little whines of protest when he pulls the apron off of you and tosses it to the side.

He sits back on his haunches, looking up at you with a Cheshire grin of his own. "You got clay on your clothes too, almaznyy." He playfully chastises, gesturing towards the little flecks of clay on the black shirt you're wearing - which is most definitely his - and to the miniscule spots on your sweatpants. "Think we should probably get you cleaned up in that case, shouldn't we?"

A small smirk crosses your lips as you nod, and Andrei smiles, surging up to wrap you in his arms. You go easily, both your bodies on muscle memory as you wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist, and he lifts you into his hold easily, standing with you and carrying you off down the hall to your bedroom.

~

The warm spray of the shower cascades down his bare back as Andrei fucks you slow and deep against the tiles, his arms settled into the space behind your knees as he holds you up and open for him.

Your cries echo around the bathroom, your arms wrapped around his neck and fingers tangled in his hair, grasping at the strands desperately, his name a repeated plea on your lips.

"More," you beg sweetly, and he smiles, eyes locked on your face. He lowers you a little bit, and on the next push in, your eyes flutter shut as your mouth falls open in a beautiful cry, pussy squeezing around his cock in a way that makes him so fucking dizzy.

"Come on baby," he coaxes, pressing you impossibly closer against the tiles and against himself, burying his face in your neck to suck a bruise into the skin. With every press of his hips forward, your clit grinds against his abs, and he can feel the way your body begins to tense up and shake in his hold, your nails disappearing from his scalp to dig into his shoulders instead.

His name leaves your lips in another desperate plea, and he chuckles, nipping playfully at the skin of your neck, your jaw, before capturing your lips in a filthy kiss. He licks into your mouth, massaging his tongue with yours before he pulls away just slightly, dragging your bottom lip between his teeth as he goes.

"Is my pretty wife going to come on her husband's cock?" He taunts, and he sees the way the words go straight through you, your eyes glazing over, body going almost lax in his grip.

(He'd gotten much filthier and practically insane with his dirty talk over time. It started not long after you'd left Eden and began officially dating nearly seven months after meeting, and had only gotten more intense during the three month time span that you'd been engaged. It didn't help the fact that he noticed you particularly loved when he called you his wife, regardless of the situation.)

"Andrei," you plead. "Please."

"Please what, pretty baby?" He murmurs, dragging his lips against yours lazily, "What is it my pretty wife wants, hm?"

Your pussy squeezes down again and he groans, stealing another filthy kiss from you. "'M so close," you say between kisses, dragging your nails across his shoulders again.

He keeps your legs hooked over his bent arms, reaching his hands down to squeeze at your waist, thumb rubbing gently over where he knows a little diamond tattoo sits at your side, fucking you onto his cock in deep, sharp thrusts that steal your breath from you, and your eyes squeeze shut as your body shakes even more in his hold.

Andrei latches his lips to that sensitive spot on your neck, pressing his body tight against yours. That, and the added friction as your clit rubs against his abs, your sensitive nipples brushing against his chiseled chest, has you coming around him with a loud cry. Your pussy clamps down, pulsing around him and Andrei groans, holding you tight as he fucks past the grip, chasing after his own orgasm.

He groans low and deep, electricity shooting up his spine as he comes, filling you from where he's buried deep. It sends your body into a second orgasm almost immediately, and Andrei curses, muttering a string of Russian in your ear at the unexpected sensation.

You both take a blissful, fucked out moment to calm down, heartbeats slowing and breathing returning to normal.

"Okay?" He murmurs after a few minutes, and you nod, sighing happily in his hold. He taps your hips, and you nod again. An unhappy sounding noise leaves you when he gently pulls out, and his heart aches a little bit, thinking you’re probably sore. He’s immediately pressing apologetic kisses to your forehead while lowering you to the ground. His hands stay on your body, keeping you steady until you manage to stand on your own.

When his eyes finally get back to your face, there's an expression there he hasn't seen before, one he can't quite place. There's a tinge of disappointment there, and longing, and it brings a frown to his face too.

He cups your face in his hands, tilting your head up to look at him. When your eyes lock, the expression fades, and the smile that takes over your face is so brightly it almost knocks him off of his feet.

"What's wrong, almaznyy?" He says, thumb brushing against your cheeks.

You lean into his touch, hands circling around his wrists. "Nothing, Drei." You promise, "I'm perfectly happy."

There's nothing in your voice or in your face now that tells him that you're lying, or that you're hiding anything from him, so he has no reason to not believe you.

Still, he stores the expression he saw away for later, keeping it in mind just in case.

He takes his time washing you both off after that, enjoying the content noises you make as he shampoos your hair and wraps you up in a fluffy towel when you're all done, pressing gentle kisses all over your face before seizing your mouth in a kiss he hopes tells you "I'm so in love with you I think my heart might burst without you."

~

Andrei quickly darts out of the way as a little boy zooms past him, his father chasing after him and tossing a “sorry!” over his shoulder as he goes.

He laughs a little, calling out a “it’s okay!” in their way as he double checks that he still has a hold on your drinks and food before he keeps walking. 

He heads back into the airport lounge and straight for you, handing you a cup of hot chocolate and a warmed up croissant from one of the bistros in the terminal. You accept it with a happy smile and a murmured ‘thank you’ before he snuggles up next to you on the little couch you’ve both managed to commandeer for yourselves.

He glances over at your airport outfit once more, mostly because he can’t help but appreciate how cozy you look.

Admittedly, he’s still got a small habit of dressing up when he flies, so he’s his standard in black pants and a white shirt, and you insisted on matching with him when you got dressed this morning. You’re in black lounge pants, a white shirt, and you have a gray sweater tied and resting around your shoulders.

Andrei figured out that when you fly you prefer to have your own blanket with you, which you have curled around your shoulders right now as you take a sip of your hot chocolate.

You look more ready for a cozy winter than you do for a week-long vacation during the summer in San Jose.

“Is it good baby?” He asks, taking a sip of his own coffee. You nod, holding the cup to your cheek. Another thing he learned - you get cold easily, but especially in airports.

“Very,” you nod, leaning your head to rest on his shoulder. “Spasibo, malysh.”

“You’re welcome, almaznyy.” 

He’s content to relax like that with you, and when he takes his phone out once you’ve finished your drinks, you help him with the crossword puzzle game he became addicted to once he saw you playing it yourself.

The two of you are engrossed in trying to figure out a six letter word for the clue “tough” when there’s a blur of pale yellow accompanied by a flurry of giggles that crashes into your legs, and it makes both of you jump up a little in surprise.

It’s a baby boy, Andrei realizes, one who’s most likely just learned what running is given the delighted and mischievous expression on his face, and when he turns to check if you’re okay, he’s surprised to find you out of your seat, blanket abandoned, and kneeling on the floor in front of the child to see if they’re okay.

The baby looks like he’s seconds from crying, but then you’re smiling, speaking at him quietly and gently, and to Andrei’s amazement, the baby stops, looks at you, and then bursts into a fit of giggles.

You laugh, happy that you could make him feel better, and continue to speak to him while he babbles away at you. He’s seen you do it with Luka, coaxing him away from a tantrum he’d been seconds away from, and calming Mila down when she scraped her knee while learning to ride her bike that first time, and it still amazes him how good you are with kids. Something warm and fuzzy starts to grow in his heart, and it stops short when a woman who Andrei can only assume is the baby’s mother approaches.

“I’m so sorry!” She says, jogging toward where you and the baby are on the ground. “Leo’s just discovered how fast he can move but we’re still working on finding his brakes.”

“It’s alright,” you reassure her through a laugh. “My nephew Luka was the same.”

My nephew - Andrei still loved that you thought that way.

“He probably had places to be and we were just in the way, weren’t we Leo?” You tease, pulling a funny face at Leo. His mom laughs when Leo bursts into giggles, picking Leo up into her arms.

“He’s fast,” Andrei notes when you stand with her, “How old is he?”

“He just turned one,” his mom gushes. 

You make a little cooing sound. “Is he your first?”

Leo’s mother shakes her head with a laugh. “You’d think so, but I have a three year old too. His name’s Sky, he’s with my husband over there, we finally just got him to settle down but then this little guy decided it was time to sprint.”

You and Andrei look over to where Leo’s mom gestured, finding the three year old who almost ran him over earlier eating snacks while his dad watches over him, all the while looking over at his wife and smiling when he sees her.

Andrei knows that smile, he probably sends that same smile your way about a hundred times a day. 

Ulybka vlyublennogo muzhchiny. His mom had said. The smile of a man in love.

“You should think about getting them into sports soon.” Andrei says when he turns back toward the mom, “Sky almost tackled me in the terminal earlier-”

“-And Leo barely flinched when he ran into me!” You tease, making another funny face at the baby. He giggles, suddenly growing shy as he hides in his mom’s shoulders.

She laughs, “Everyone’s been saying that to me. I might just have to consider it.”

Andrei reaches into his pocket, grabbing his business card from his wallet and hands it to the mother with a small smile. “If you ever think they’re interested in hockey, give me a call or send me an email. I’d be happy to get them set up.”

The mother takes Andrei’s card with a curious look, and when she reads his name, her eyes light up in recognition, and she smiles, laughing a little to herself.

“I knew you looked familiar! My husband and I are big fans. We were there for your last cup winning game. It’s so nice to meet you!”

Andrei catches the glance you shoot at him from the corner of his eye, can see the tense line of your shoulders in his peripheral, but he gives the mother an easy smile, and your body relaxes.

Now that he has you, that time in his life isn’t so painful anymore.

“Thank you,” he says genuinely. “I’m glad that you were there, it felt good to have home crowd support.”

“I appreciate your offer, I’ll definitely reach out.” She says, then looks at both of you. “It was nice meeting you both, you’re such a lovely couple!”

You both say your goodbyes, you waving at baby Leo, who waves back shyly, then looks at Andrei. Andrei waves too, and to his surprise, baby Leo waves back to him too, before burying his face in his mother’s shoulder.

You finally return to your seat on the couch next to Andrei, wrapping both of your arms around his, resting your chin on his shoulder as you smile brightly up at him.

“That was hot of you.” You say, which has Andrei laughing in surprise.

“What was, almaznyy?”

“You and your business cards.” You say, scrunching your nose a little. “I liked it, it was very authoritative.”

Andrei shakes his head, booping your nose with his finger. “Calm yourself down, almaznyy. I’m still not interested in being part of the mile high club.”

You roll your eyes with a shrug, but relax fully against his side. “Offer still stands.”

~

You're laying on the floor of Sara and Evgeny's living room, laughing as you bounce eight month old baby Alexei up and down against your belly, watching as his little legs kick back and forth and he babbles his joy. From beside you, three year old Luka lays on his belly as he plays with the train set Andrei had bought him last Christmas, and five year old Mila rests on your other side, coloring diligently in the sketchbook you'd bought her for her birthday.

She'd seen you drawing in one of your journals and had become both enraptured and amazed as she observed you, and then had been overjoyed when you handed her the book and pencil so she could create her own drawings as she pleased.

Her parents had been worried that she might accidentally press the pencil too tight and ruin one of your other drawings, or accidentally draw over something you had done, but either way, you would have cared less. "It's good for her to do it this way," you had told them, "so she knows what she makes is important, too."

On the couch above you, Sara's feeding a bottle to Alexei's twin brother Aleksander, watching you and her children. She smiles, nudging you gently in the side with her socked feet.

"You're a natural at this," she praises. "The kids always seem to behave better when you're here."

You scoff a little, making nonsensical noises at Alexei as he babbles back at you. "Hardly," you say. "I think it's because Andrei wears them out first."

When you and Andrei come around, he tends to round up his niece and nephews, tiring the older ones out by running around while you and Sara or Evgeny or Andrei's parents help with the twins.

Sara shakes her head. "No, he might wear them out, but they still have plenty of room to be crazy. You settle them down. This is the quietest they've been all day."

You look at your nieces and nephews at where they each are, peaceful and happy and content, and you shrug, smiling a little to yourself. "I guess so."

Sara laughs, nudging you again. "So, when are you gonna have some little ones of your own? We're outnumbered by boys here and it's your turn to pop a baby out for once."

You falter slightly, almost dropping baby Alexei straight on your face before you catch him effortlessly, trying to ignore the wave of dizziness when you launch yourself upright into a sitting position. Luka and Mila barely spare either of you a glance, too focused on what they're doing. You gaze at Sara, holding Alexei tight with one hand while shushing her with the other.

"Not so loud!" You half whisper, half yell.

Andrei and Evgeny were just in the kitchen not too far away, and while they were probably distracted by shop talk, you couldn't risk him hearing like this.

Sara narrows her eyes at you, frowning, whisper-yelling right back. "You told me on the phone last week that you were going to talk to him about it! And the week before that, and two weeks before that!"

You groan, shaking your head and beginning to bounce Alexei again when he starts to fuss. Sara shakes her head right back at you, gesturing for you to follow her as she heads toward the twins' nursery, instructing Mila and Luka to "wait right here while mommy talks to your aunt."

As you head to the nursery, you pass Andrei and Evgeny who are, as expected, engrossed in their conversation, but it doesn't stop Andrei from tossing a wink at you as you pass by.

You pointedly ignore the way it makes butterflies swarm and swoop in your stomach, smiling softly in return before ducking out of sight and into the nursery. Sara shuts the door behind you, giving you a pointed look as she does so.

You'd had best friends before, obviously, but never an older sister figure, and none quite like Sara. When Andrei had introduced you two, she'd been nothing but welcoming, friendly, and someone you'd come to rely on quite a lot since then.

When she announced she was pregnant with twins last year, you'd been overjoyed for her, and often traveled back and forth between San Jose and Raleigh to help her with the babies, especially since it had been Evgeny's first year working with the coaching staff of the Sharks, having previously been in the front office.

Maybe it was the excitement you got in helping her decorate the nursery, even though most of it was taken care of since they had things from Luka and Mila, or maybe it was just all the preparation you helped her with, but it had given you severe baby fever.

Like...severe.

Severe enough that you were practically ready to be pregnant that very same day until reality kicked in and knocked some serious sense into you.

You'd asked her how she and Evgeny had approached the topic of having kids, if she had advice on how you should broach the subject with Andrei, and she had only one thing to say.

"They're pretty direct people," she had said. "It's best to rip the bandaid off with something like that."

A couple of months ago, she texted you a picture of the twins in the matching pajama set you'd bought, and something in it made you want to finally talk to Andrei about it. So you told Sara that you would.

But...

The second you'd gone to Andrei in his office about it, you suddenly got cold feet. Realistically, you two hadn't actually talked about having kids before. Things with the two of you had been unconventional and fast from the start, so granted, you both had done things a little messily and quite backwards.

Still, the worst he could say to you was "no" or "not right now baby," but despite your past mess you two had always been on the same page, so the idea of hearing a "not right now" was okay, but hearing "no"?

Yeah, not something you had exactly prepared yourself for.

So instead of allowing there to be room for a "no" or "not right now," you just...didn't say a word.

Which Sara was definitely going to yell at you for.

Or at least, whisper yell, what with the twins going down for their nap and all.

Sara lays a droopy Aleksander into his crib, and he falls asleep the second his head hits the pillow. She takes Alexei from you next, sitting in the rocking chair set up in the corner of the room to start to feed him his bottle while you sit on the floor, gazing at baby Aleksander through the bars of his crib.

"What in the world are you waiting for?" Sara asks you, voice soft but firm in the nursery. 

You groan a little to yourself. "I just haven't gotten around to it, okay?"

"Yes, but why?" She presses. "You know he won't say no to you."

"I actually don't know that. He might not be able to say no when I ask for help, or ask for something, but children are not things to ask for. It's an entire human being you're bringing into the world, you know!"

Sara gives you a deadpan expression. "Of course I know, I've brought four of them into existence."

"Then you know that it's a lot to ask. Even if I want a child, even if I want to be a mom and raise my kids and bring them up, that doesn't guarantee that Andrei wants the same."

"He'll want them with you." Sara insists. "He'll want them because you'll be their mother and he's in love with you and those kids will be half of you and he'll be so proud to say that they're your children."

The idea fills you with hope, but you tamp it down. You have to be realistic about this. You know your husband, and you know that while Sara's right and he will do anything for you, he also probably won't handle this being sprung on him as a surprise, or appreciate being confronted with it out of the blue.

"Just get rid of your birth control and tell him you want a kid." Sara insists, and your eyes bug out of your head.

"Are you insane?" You whisper yell. "That would definitely give him a heart attack."

"Don't be so dramatic," she says, rolling her eyes. "He's too young to have those."

"I'll talk to him," you promise, more to yourself than to Sara. "But I'm not using any of your suggestions."

Sara shrugs. "Fine by me, but there'd better be a new baby next Christmas, and it won't be mine."

~

In the kitchen, Andrei watches with fond eyes as you disappear into the nursery with Sara and the twins. He's listening to what Evgeny's talking about, he really is, but his eyes are locked on the silent screen of the baby monitor, showing you handing Alexei off to Sara after Sara's put Aleksander down.

Watching you with his niece and nephews all day had filled his heart with something warm and fuzzy, something he couldn't quite place.

The way that you cared for his family since he introduced you to them was something that made Andrei incredibly happy, and he could tell that the way that they cared for you in turn made you just as happy.

He often caught you speaking with his mother on the phone, trying your best to only stick to Russian as best as possible to make her comfortable. His father didn't reach out often, but when he did, you did your best to converse with him too. Sometimes, when you thought Andrei wasn't looking, he'd see you reading through a Russian textbook in your art studio, brushing up on the language.

You talked to Sara almost every week, the two of you growing to be as close as sisters, and that made Andrei happy considering the only real sibling relationship you had was still pretty strained. Even after Andrei married you, your brother Joshua still wasn't his favorite person, which was unfortunate, considering his husband Sam was an angel and one of your favorite people.

Evgeny had also grown closer to you a little, considering how much you helped him and Sara prepare for the arrival of the twins. There were times he'd reach out to you if he couldn't reach Andrei for any reason, and Evgeny often teased Andrei about how more often than not, it seemed like a freak accident that he'd managed to find someone like you to be his wife.

"Believe me," Andrei had told his brother. "I know."

He listens intently to his brother as he discusses what's going on with the Sharks, clearly seeking Andrei's advice, but all the while, Andrei keeps his eyes on you, watches you through the baby monitor as you sit with Sara and the twins.

Everything about your body language screams comfort, like there's nowhere in the world you'd rather be, and it brings a smile to his face unconsciously.

Evgeny pauses in his ranting, glancing to the baby monitor and rolling his eyes, shoving at Andrei. "Obrashchat' vnimaniye," he scolds. Pay attention.

"I am!" Andrei insists, turning his full attention back to his brother. "You were saying?"

Evgeny opens his mouth, then closes it, a curious expression crossing his features. "Have you thought about it?"

"About what?" Andrei asks, moving his brother so he can go into the fridge and steal one of those obnoxious glass bottles of water Evgeny insists on buying.

"About what comes after marriage," Evgeny says. "About having kids."

Andrei almost drops the water bottle on the kitchen floor, can hear it shatter in his ears, but he's pretty sure that's his brain doing that. "About what?" He asks, voice practically an echo in his head.

Evgeny shakes his head. "Ty takoy idiot."

Andrei turns to face him, frowning. "I am not an idiot."

"You are, actually. Have you two not talked about having kids?"

Andrei opens his mouth, then shuts it.

You two actually hadn't. Not really. Not at all, now that he thought about it.

Evgeny shakes his head. "Listen, I know you're enjoying your never ending honeymoon phase, but it wouldn't hurt to ask."

Andrei takes a swig from his water, glancing at you on the monitor.

You've got Alexei in your arms now, feeding him the rest of his bottle while Sara rests on the rocking chair, eyes on Aleksander.

His heart does a little flip, imagining you holding a little baby that's got your nose and his eyes, and it brings back the warm and fuzzy feeling he'd felt earlier.

Maybe...maybe it was worth a discussion.

~

Since Evgeny's house had gotten crowded with all the kids, Andrei had booked a suite for the two of you at the Marriott.

It had a lovely view of the city, especially at night, and Andrei enjoyed it even more with your naked body pressed against one of the many floor to ceiling windows, watching the way your face twisted with pleasure in the reflection of the glass.

The lights were off in the hotel room, so there wasn't a single chance of anyone seeing what the two of you were up to, but the thrill was there all the same. He wanted to show you off, show off his beautiful little wife, the only diamond he ever needed.

Your palm prints littered the window as you pushed back against him, and Andrei groaned, tightening the grip on your hips, fingers pressing against where he knew that little diamond tattoo rested beneath the waistband of your thong.

He could barely wait, barely think by the time you both got back to the hotel. The second your jeans were off, he pulled your thong to the side and slid in to the hilt, burying himself inside of you and making you come all over him in seconds.

It wasn't often that Andrei took you from behind. More often than not, he preferred looking at you, preferred watching the beautiful faces you made and watching the way your body reacted to his own. But in times like these, where there was something that could help him watch you, he couldn't exactly complain.

He releases his hold on one of your hips, letting his hands wander up your torso, bringing you upright against him as he bends his knees a little, adjusting for your height difference so he can cage you against him as he fucks into you.

Pleasant and happy noises leave you as he plays with one of your nipples, then the other, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses on your neck. His nails gently scratch at the valley between your breasts, making you shiver, before trailing his hand down your stomach.

He had every intention of putting his fingers to your clit, rubbing gently there the way you liked when he took you like this, but instead, his hands lingered on your stomach, on where he could feel the slight bulge of where his cock fucked in and out of you, and he found his hands resting there instead.

A shiver ran through your body, your pussy pushing back on his cock again as if on impulse, and a deep, pleased noise rumbled through Andrei's chest.

"Almaznyy?" He murmured against your neck, finding the sensitive spot below your ear and sucking against it gently.

You gasped in his hold, shaking a little, and he chuckled, pressing his hand against the little bulge of your stomach, the hand he still had on your waist tightening its grip, pressing his fingers a little more into the diamond tattoo.

"Can you feel me here, moya krasivaya zhena?" He asks you, cock throbbing when you squeeze against him in excitement. You loved it when he called you ‘my pretty wife.’ "Can you feel me fucking you?"

You nod, frantic, hands gripping onto his arms. "Please, malysh, wanna come."

"You wanna come already?" He taunts. "Gonna come for me in front of the whole city?"

A soft whine leaves your lips as he thrusts in particularly hard, emphasizing his question.

"Yes," you answer, nearly breathless.

“And what about me?” He teases, pressing his hand against your stomach a little more. "You want me to come inside, almaznyy? Want me to come right here?"

In the reflection of the window, he catches the way your eyes slam shut before you throw your head back against his shoulder, mouth open in a silent cry and body seizing as your orgasm claims you. Your pussy clenches impossibly tight, and it sends Andrei over the edge in seconds, pushing down on your waist to bury himself inside of you, cock throbbing almost painfully as he comes.

The two of you shake silently for a second, and Andrei holds you both upright as best as he can until he can feel your body as it calms down. He pulls out gently, not wasting a second before he scoops you up, walking you over to the bed to lay you on it gently before he climbs on beside you.

You go to him almost immediately, and his arms open on instinct, welcoming you in his embrace as you bury your nose in his chest.

He wants to say something, anything. He wants to ask you if what just happened was okay, if you're okay, if he didn't cross a line, if you maybe wanted to try that again sometime soon or maybe if you want to try it in a different position.

But then he hears your breathing start to even out, feels the way your body goes lax in his hold, and he resigns himself to discussing it another time.

~

The following day, you and Andrei head back over to Sara and Evgeny’s for lunch. You help Sara put the kids down for their naps after you all eat, and Andrei and Evgeny handle the dishes.

When you and Sara come out of the kids’ rooms, you’re met with a chorus of laughter from Andrei, Evgeny, and then their mother’s voice echoes through the living room.

Peeking around the corner, you can see Andrei and Evegny crowded around Evgeny’s laptop, definitely on FaceTime with their mother.

She signals to you to hang back, and you nod. You’re more than happy to give Andrei and his brother the alone time they need to speak with their mom, so you lean back against the wall, Sara against the one opposite you, and you smile at each other when you hear the brother excitedly converse with their mother in Russian.

Your fluency has gotten better, but it’s not one hundred percent - same with Sara’s - so the two of you can only really pick up on bits and pieces here and there, catching tidbits of their mother’s praises for her boys along with her normal chastising.

You two are looking fit!

Still, you both need to eat more. 

You’re working too hard.

Are you ready for the upcoming season?

Oh my brilliant boys!

How are my daughters?

How are the grandkids?

Evgeny, you’d better bring them by soon so I can babysit.

Andrei, how are you doing?

Are you and my favorite girl happy?

When are you two going to give me more grandchildren?!

That last part sends a shock through your body, and Sara nudges you with her foot at the same time Andrei begins to stutter and stammer in the living room.

Their mom starts to say something else when her voice gets quieter, and you realize Andrei’s turned the volume down. His voice gets a little quieter, and Evgeny’s loud laughter drowns out whatever Andrei says in return to their mother.

Sara gives you another pointed look, as if to say “So you still didn’t talk to him about it.”

You roll your eyes, and she nudges your foot again before dragging you down the hall and into her and Evgeny’s bedroom. 

“For the love of God,” she says. “I know you said you’re not taking my suggestions, but you are going to have to take this one, specifically with the promise that you’ll at least save it until you get back to Raleigh.”

You answer her with a deadpan stare, and she sighs, exasperated, before gesturing to you. 

“You have to seduce him.” She says plainly. “It’s how I did it with Evgeny, and it’s how you’re going to have to do it with Andrei instead of tiptoeing around.”

You’re slightly dumbfounded, so all you can manage is a weak “What?”

“Remember when I told you to rip the bandaid off?” She asks, and you nod. She waves a hand around, “Well, that’s what I meant by that. Seduce him. Rip the bandaid off.”

“Seduce him…” You say, and it sounds more like a question than a statement.

Sara grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you a bit. “You know he loves you, you know he thinks you’re hot. Use it.”

Sara doesn’t know how you and Andrei met, no one does except Lottie, Oli, Mason, Eli, and you and Andrei. She has no idea about your past.

Which means she has no idea that if there is anything you know how to do, it’s seduce Andrei.

~

You try your best to clear your mind, focusing on exfoliating your skin as you shower and the things you’re planning on doing once this shower is done.

It had been a week since you’d returned from visiting with Sara and Evgeny, and this morning, you’d gone to see your OBGYN doctor to discuss…well, a possible game plan.

You agreed that after you finished this round of birth control pills and had your period, you and Andrei would probably start trying.

And well, after you spoke to Andrei about all of this, of course. 

But Sara was right, seduction might have to come first. You were too out of sorts to wait any longer.

He had been gone this morning when you went to your appointment, having to be at the practice rink to watch the team’s morning skate, and when you had returned home after running some errands, he’d been in his office for a string of phone calls, which he said he’d be in and out of till about two this afternoon.

It was about noon, then. So you’d gone on a run, had a little pep talk with yourself to prepare for the impending conversation, and strategized.

The pep talk you had was simple - if during said conversation, Andrei voiced that he didn’t want kids, that was that. You would not be forcing him into anything he didn’t want or trying to convince him, and the two of you would likely talk things out from there.

If he did want kids, perfect, you could talk about that, but, you could also give him a bit of extra motivation.

Which brought you to the seduction strategy you’d developed so carefully on the way back from your run.

It was about one in the afternoon when you got back, so you threw together a quick lunch for you and Andrei to have - once he was done with his phone calls and you - and it was about one thirty when you hopped into the shower.

You’d gone for a wax right after your doctor’s appointment, as part of the errands you ran, along with a mani pedi, but a little extra gentle exfoliation on the legs never hurt anyone.

Once you finished in the shower, you toweled off and applied the vanilla lotion Andrei loved the most on you, before slipping on one of your favorite sundresses. It was also one Andrei liked on you, particularly because it was just the right side of see through. 

Hence, why it was a key part to your strategy.

It might be devious, and it’s definitely playing dirty, but you need a little ammunition on your side, if not for the sake of a small confidence boost to get you through the conversation.

You did this for a living, for a time. You did this specifically for Andrei before, it shouldn’t be too hard to do it for him again. Sure, the way that you seduced him now looked different, the way that you were together now had changed drastically, but Sara was right. At the very least, Andrei loved you, and he never failed to remind you how attractive you were to him.

So hopefully, this worked.

You checked the time on the clock on your nightstand - one fifty five. A quick glance in the mirror assured you this was the best option outfit wise, and your nerves reminded you that you’d both probably need a little bit of liquid courage for this next bit. Heading back out to the kitchen, you make yourself a quick margarita and pour Andrei a shot of his favorite whisky. 

If there was anything you knew about your husband, sometimes he just needed a little something to take the edge off before he could plow forward with whatever it was he needed to do. He was bound to be nervous once you brought up the idea of having a baby, especially if you were going to be playing just a little bit dirty about it. 

You grabbed both glasses and headed back down the hall to Andrei’s office. Just as you crossed the threshold, he was bidding whoever was on the other line goodbye, and you took a deep breath to steel yourself.

Andrei is your husband. You love each other. You reminded yourself. He is your husband. You can get through anything together.

Andrei smiles when you hand him his glass, his reading glasses perched on his nose making him look both hot, authoritative, and innocent all at once. “Now how did you know I needed this, moya zhena?”

You shrug, playing innocent. “A lucky guess.”

You both toast, clinking your glasses before each taking a sip of your respective drinks. You try to hide your smile behind your glass as you do, but you should’ve known better.

Andrei’s almost always looking at you, so nothing ever could get past your loving and doting husband.

“What’s that smile doing there?” He teases, and it’s then that he seems to finally take in what you’re wearing.

And that you’re wearing nothing underneath it.

You try another innocent smile, but Andrei raises a brow in suspicion, quirking his finger and summoning you to his side of the desk.

Placing your glass down on the mahogany, you round the desk to his side, obeying when he taps the desk and jumping up, taking a seat but keeping your legs crossed.

You don’t want him distracted.

“Are you about to ask me for something expensive, almaznyy? Because if you are, you’re off to a good start.”

You never actually needed to do anything if it was expensive, including asking him for anything, since you did have your own income, and you both knew that. But still, every now and again you liked to pretend like you did, liked the way it made Andrei nervous and pliant, like he didn’t meet you the way he actually did, like he wasn’t familiar with the concept. 

But that wasn’t what you were going for here.

“Well,” you start, “it’s sort of expensive. An…investment, if you will.”

He frowns slightly. “Don’t tell me Jarvy’s wife actually talked you into wanting to buy that monstrosity of a beach house.”

A surprised laugh bubbles out of you, having almost completely forgotten Tessa’s attempt to expand her real estate portfolio by tempting you with an even bigger sunroom than the one you and Andrei had now.

You shake your head. “No no, I don’t want that house.”

“But you do want a house?” Andrei inquires.

You shake your head, nerves suddenly racing through your veins. It makes your hands shake, so you reach out for him, cupping his jaw with your hand, leaving the other resting in your lap. You thumb over the stubble along his jaw, humming to yourself, trying to gather the right words.

It makes Andrei nervous. “Listen, almaznyy, whatever it is, we-”

“I want this house, Bubby,” you interrupt, wanting to be out with it but also not sure if you were remotely prepared for the rest of his sentence. At the pet name, Andrei’s eyes get brighter, his entire demeanor softening. “I want this house, with you and I in it, and maybe…maybe a little one running around in it, too.”

There. You said it…kind of.

But it was out there now. 

And Andrei…

There’s surprise in his face, definitely, and you’d been expecting that. But there’s also no…opposition. Nothing that says he doesn’t want to have this conversation, nothing that screams disagreement, nothing that says he doesn’t like the idea.

There are nerves there, like yours, but amongst the nerves and surprise is…hope? Something wistful. 

You lean into it, trailing your hand from his face to his arm, then down to the desk where his hand rests beside your legs. You take it, intertwining your fingers, playing with his hand a little.

“Bubby,” you continue. And that time you’re definitely playing dirty, saying one of his favorite pet names like that, like you want something - which you do, no question - and it makes Andrei’s whole body relax. “I want a baby,” you say, this time, plainly, so there’s no question and no doubt. “I want to have a baby with you.” You glance up at him, finding his intense gaze already on you. “What do you think?”

He’s quiet for a moment, and if you didn’t already know your husband, his lack of a response might concern you. But the look on his face tells you that he’s thinking, and so you wait, giving him enough space and time to collect his thoughts.

Finally, he squeezes your hand, a little sigh of relief mixed with a laugh leaving his chest, eyes crinkling at the corners as a brilliant smile takes over his features. He says nothing, just maneuvers you to part your legs so he can haul you off the desk and into his lap. You go to him easily, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into his neck, breathing him in. One of his arms bands itself across your waist, the other across your back so he can cradle the back of your head in his hands.

“I didn’t know how to ask you.” He says softly into your ear. “I’ve been thinking about it, too. How to ask…how to tell you…”

“Ya tozhe,” you tell him. Me too. “I didn’t know if it was something you wanted.”

“We never talked about it,” he agrees. “And we should have, and I’m sorry we didn’t.”

“Nothing to be sorry for, malysh. We’re talking about it now, aren’t we?” You say, pressing a small kiss to his jaw.

He tightens his grip on you. “Because you were brave enough to do it. You’ve always been the brave one of the two of us, almaznyy.”

“You were the one who brought us together, Andrei.” You remind him, “I couldn’t have done that. Only you could have, and you did.”

“I would do it again.” He swears, leaning back a little to press a kiss to your forehead. 

You pull back a little, puckering your lips, and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you softly, gently, and like he has all the time in the world. You love when he kisses you like this, like he’s afraid you’ll break or disappear into thin air. It makes you feel precious, like the very diamond he continues to call you.

“Bubby,” you murmur between kisses, “how many babies do you want?”

There’s a choked noise that bubbles in his throat, so you pull back, looking at him in concern. He reaches for his scotch, but you bat his hand away, handing him the bottle of water he always keeps on his desk instead.

He takes a couple of grateful swigs, and much to his disappointment, you climb off of him and climb back to your perch on his desk, giving him some room to breathe. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. “Didn’t mean to take you by surprise there.”

Andrei shakes his head, putting the closed water bottle down and reaches for his glass, downing the rest of its contents. When it's empty, you take it back from him, putting it on a far enough corner of his desk before reaching for your glass, taking down the rest of your margarita, then set the empty glass next to Andrei’s. Once those are out of the way, you lean back on your hands, your attention solely on Andrei once more.

He’s got a little glint in his eye as he considers you, letting one of his hands come up to rest on your legs, caressing your skin. “You know me, almaznyy. I’m not picky.” He starts. “I’ll be satisfied with as many babies as you’re willing to give me.”

You smile, pleased with his answer. In reward, you nudge the hand he has on your leg a little, and Andrei beams, gently grabbing your calf so he can part your legs, this time, to take in the sight of your bare pussy.

Carefully, you pull up the hem of your dress and push yourself to the edge of his desk, and Andrei takes your ankles, gently placing one on the armrest of his chair, putting the other over his shoulder. He scoots his chair in closer, your leg sliding down his back a little and allowing his hands to rest on your hips.

“We should…” he starts, swallowing. “We should probably talk about this a little more.”

You smirk. “We are talking, though.”

“In depth,” he clarifies. “Get into specifics, and things.”

But even as he says it, you can see in his face you probably wouldn’t get further than the next five minutes. “We can still talk about it after, too, okay? We’ll sit and have a real conversation about it.”

He blinks, nodding, then glances down at where you know he wants to bury his face.

“If you wanted a baby, almaznyy,” he says, warm breath fanning over your lower abdomen, “you didn’t have to play dirty.”

“Dirty?” You ask, innocent as ever. “What do you mean?”

Andrei narrows his eyes at you. “The first time you walked into this office on a mission, you were dressed just like this.”

“You mean when I used to be your assistant?” You tease, and he pinches your thigh playfully.

“Moya zhena,” he warns. He may be playful, but it seems you’ve pushed a few too many buttons in that area today.

Shame, you think. Maybe I can try again after dinner. 

You roll your eyes playfully, pouting a little. “I was nervous and needed some confidence, alright?”

“You look plenty confident to me,” he reassures you with a slight nod, then he’s bunching up the fabric of your dress and pressing against your stomach, his nice way of saying ‘lay back moya zhena, let me take care of you.’

The first swipe of his tongue in your folds takes you by surprise, a pleasant squeal leaving your lips and echoing around his office. His second taste of you is slower, his tongue laying flat against you and dragging from your entrance to your clit, his lips circling around the bud and sucking in a way that elicits a pleasant moan from you.

Andrei’s hands crawl up your body to the neckline of your dress, and you help him a little, slipping the straps off so he can pull the neckline down, cupping your tits in his hands and squeezing.

He’d been particularly fond of the first time you’d had sex in this house together. Had cherished the memory of you in that light pink sundress and on this desk in a similar fashion. It was probably why you’d chosen to approach him this way, he thinks absentmindedly, lips and mouth settling into the familiar pace you love when he’s got his face between your thighs.

Andrei can feel his pants get a little tighter the wetter you get, his chin coated in your slick and nose nudging against your clit as his lips and tongue work you open. He’s so perfectly at peace here, totally content to just lick at you and taste you for hours at a time that he nearly forgets why you’re sprawled out on his desk like this.

You tugging at his hair serves as a gentle reminder that kicks him into gear, and he smiles against your skin, pressing kisses to the junction of your thighs and nipping at you a little.

“Andrei,” you say, breathless. “Potoropites', pozhaluysta.” Hurry up, please.

He shakes his head, gently letting your legs fall to the side as he sits up in his chair, draping his body over yours. “Not this time, almaznyy,” he says, wrapping your arms around his neck before he wraps his own arms around your back, cupping your ass in his hands.

Your brain kicks into gear just in time for you to wrap your legs around his waist, and then he’s lifting you up, pressing filthy open mouth kisses to your neck as he navigates the hallway carefully, taking the measured and familiar steps to your bedroom.

He lays you gently on the mattress, placing you delicately among the pillows before he’s shedding his shirt and pants, kicking his boxer briefs off to the side and then settling back between your legs.

This time, your thighs squeeze at his head when he sucks your pussy into his mouth particularly hard, tongue dipping inside of you, and your fingers fly into his hair, scratching at his scalp in warning.

“Behave, moy muzh.” you hiss through gritted teeth, even if the way you writhe against his face tells him you like it. 

“You started it,” he reminds you, tugging on the dress resting around your middle. You huff, grabbing the bottom and peeling it off, tossing it in the direction of Andrei’s pile of clothes. 

Your eyes sparkle with mischief when you watch the way he takes in the sight of your naked body. No matter how many times the two of you do this, Andrei always looks at you the same way.

Like he’s in love, like it’s the first time, like for all he wants to take you apart, the way he’ll put you back together will be well worth it, and if it isn’t, he’ll work for it until it is.

“Pridi ko mne, lyubov' moya,” you beckon him. Come to me, my love.

His bottom lip drags against your clit as he rises from his position, tongue darting out to lick at your arousal still coating his lips, and the sight alone licks at the flame of arousal sparking low in your belly.

When he crawls up your body to kiss you, he props himself up on his arms, not wanting to rest his full weight on you, his delicate little almaznyy. Normally, you love it, but right now, you need something a little different. 

Your arms wrap around his neck as you seize his mouth in a bruising, desperate kiss, pulling him down to you and taking him by surprise as you manage to flip him onto his back on the way down. You take full advantage of his surprise by making your way down his body to settle between his legs, wrapping your fist around his cock and taking him into your mouth.

Andrei groans, sitting up on his elbows to watch you.

“I don’t know if we’ll be able to make a baby if you keep doing that,” he warns, cock throbbing against your tongue as if to emphasize his point. 

You bat your eyelashes at him, sucking at the head of his cock and using your hands to stroke at him at the same time. He hisses, one of his hands flying to rest in your hair, the other resting behind his head and emphasizing the chiseled muscles of his arms, chest, and abdomen.

Sometimes, you couldn’t believe this man was your husband.

“Almaznyy,” he warns when you take him down your throat, swallowing around him. You’re slow to come off his cock, letting him leave your lips with a dramatic ‘pop.’

“I’m still on birth control,” you tell him. “So we can’t make a baby tonight anyway, probably not for another month, at least.”

His brows furrow, both from your statement and the way you twist your wrist, stroking his cock the way you know he likes. “Then what - ah yebat’ - what are we doing?” He asks, trying to focus on the conversation as you take him back in your throat. You hum a little, and he tugs on the strands of your hair again in warning.

You pull off of him, gently stroking your hand up and down, squeezing as you go. “Practicing, of course.”

He lets his arms fall out beside him, collapsing against the pillows and dragging his hands over his eyes. “Almaznyy,” he huffs, hips stuttering when you squeeze him at the base.

“Hmm?” You hum, ready to take him in your mouth again, but Andrei moves quickly, hauling you up his body and cradling you close as he flips you over again. He positions you among the pillows, placing one under your waist so you’re practically propped up for him. He positions himself so his arms rest in the crook of your knees, your ankles near his head as he folds his body over yours.

He takes his cock in his hand, running the head through your folds. “Practice?” 

You nod, “Practice, for now.” You reach out, pushing his hand out of the way so you can line his cock up with your entrance. “Which is why the desk was perfectly good, and-”

The rest of your words are stolen from you when Andrei bats your hand away gently and slides inside of you, slow but precise, bottoming out and nestling his body close to yours. Your eyes flutter shut when you squeeze around him, and his hands come up, cradling the sides of your face as he murmurs encouraging words to you, staying still until you’ve adjusted to his size.

“Almaznyy,” he calls, and your eyes blink open, glazed over and hazy and you’ve barely even started. “Good?”

You nod, tilting your hips a little, trying to fuck yourself on his cock. He laughs a little, shaking his head. “So damn impatient.” 

He raises his body off of yours a little, angling his hips and setting a steady pace, one that has you whining in protest almost immediately, grabbing at the muscles of his ass and trying to drag him closer.

“I won’t break Andrei-” you start, but he cuts you off with a particularly hard thrust that has your eyes rolling back into your head.

“I don’t care if it’s just practice, almaznyy.” He tells you, “and I don’t care how many times we have to practice. I’m going to make it last, and I’m going to make sure that you remember all the ways I fuck you and make love to you until I put a baby in you.”

You gasp a little, and Andrei smiles to himself, thoroughly pleased. He sits up, placing his hands on the backs of your thighs and settling in to fuck you just the way you like. He fucks you in deep, strong strokes, the head of his cock brushing up against that sensitive spot in your pussy every single time.

It steals your breath from you, and all the telltale signs of an orgasm approaching signal to Andrei like a beacon. The way your breathing catches in your throat, the way you can’t keep your eyes open, how your legs start to shake.

He takes his thumb and rests it on your clit, rubbing in lazy circles until your back arches off the bed, a satisfied cry echoing out of your throat and into the pillows beside your head when you come. Your pussy squeezes down in a way that makes Andrei’s head go dizzy, and then he’s coming with a groan, pushing your hips down onto him as he buries himself to the hilt, his orgasm sudden and a shock to his system.

It takes him a second to catch his breath, and moves your legs off of his shoulders to make it easier to pull out of you and give you reprieve, but a noise of protest leaves your throat, and your ankles lock at the base of his spine. 

He pauses, glancing at you curiously when he notices the look on your face.

Andrei thinks back to before you left for San Jose, the day he took you in the shower, and how upset you’d been when he set you down on your feet.

It clicks in his head, then. What you’d been upset about.

He’s still hard - he’s practically always hard when he’s around you - so he moves his hips, slowly pulling back an inch before pushing back inside. You throw your head back, his name leaving your lips in relief, and he smirks. 

Fucking you in shallow thrusts, thumb circling your clit, Andrei watches in fascination as he pushes his come back inside of you with his cock, watches the way your pretty face twists in pleasure, and hums satisfactorily to himself. 

“Is this what you’ve been needing, moya zhena?” He asks, eyes on yours the whole time. “How long have you wanted this?”

You can barely answer him, your head thrown back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowed, back still arched and pushing those beautiful tits of yours up. Andrei takes them in his hands, massaging them, and you keen, pushing into his hands and pussy trying to retreat from his cock with nowhere to go.

The sensation feels different for him. He’s hypersensitive now, all too away of the slick slide of his cock, of your mixed come leaking out of you before he pushes back in, feels heat begin to prick at his skin when your pussy continues to flutter and squeeze, like it’s trying to keep him inside of you. With every brush of his finger over your nipples, your pussy squeezes and you try to pull off of him, but in the next breath you’re winding your hips, pushing back down until he’s buried to the hilt.

Andrei pushes your legs up again before he rests his weight on you gently, his shoulders under your knees, burying his face in your neck and placing his hands under your ass, cradling you closer to him as he starts to fuck you in deeper strokes, drowning in the pleased little noises leaving your lips.

“Ty chuvstvuyesh' sebya tak khorosho, dorogaya,” he murmurs against your neck. You feel so good, darling. 

“Andrei,” you finally manage to breathe out, and relief floods through his veins. There were times when you two made love that you got so lost in the pleasure that you couldn’t speak to him, and it worried Andrei to no end. But you always came back to him, always called for him, and the same calm washes over his body, a shiver running up his spine.

Your arms come up, wrapping around his neck and arching your back, giving him more access to you. Andrei hums, pleased, sucking a bruise into your skin while his cock starts to throb from where he’s fucking you, can feel a second orgasm creeping up when he bites down gently, raking his teeth over the sensitive skin and you start to squeeze and clench around him.

“Gonna come again, almaznyy?” He asks, nosing along your jaw. “Want me to come again, too?”

You nod, turning your head and Andrei meets you, slotting your lips together and swallowing your moans down when you shake gently beneath him, back arching and pushing your body closer to his. His eyes squeeze shut, electricity zipping up his spine when your orgasm tips him over the edge and he’s spilling into you again, groaning against your jaw.

His arms come out from under you and he gently eases your legs back down against the bed, massaging the muscles as he does. Instead of resting them against the bed though, you wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles at his lower back, and Andrei laughs. 

Gently, he rolls you both until he’s laying underneath you instead, careful to keep himself nestled inside of you, and he smiles to himself when you do a half cat-like stretch before sprawling across his chest. 

A pleased little exhale greets his ears after a moment, and his hand comes up, rubbing gentle circles in your back. “Made you lunch,” you tell him, voice hoarse. “‘S in the kitchen.”

“Spasibo, almaznyy.” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “We should go eat it then, it’s probably cold by now.”

“It’s the chicken caesar salad wraps you like.” You say, lips dragging across his chest as you speak. “And I made strawberry lemonade this morning, should be ready by now.”

He nods, tapping your flank gently. “We should get up, malyshka. Get cleaned up.”

You nod, but you’ve got that look in your eye like before, like you’re disappointed as you carefully lift yourself off of him and roll onto the mattress beside him. Andrei rolls onto his side, cradling your face in his hands. “What’s wrong, moya zhena?” 

You shake your head, a small smile gracing your lips. “Nothing’s wrong, just…excited, is all.”

“Excited?”

“To start a family with you,” you clarify. 

“Then why do you look so sad?” He wonders, thumbing at the pout in your bottom lip.

You laugh, nose scrunching a little before cuddling into him. “It’s silly - I just wanted to start now.”

“It’s only a month, right?” He asks. You nod, nose rubbing at his pec, and he smiles to himself. “That’s good - plenty of time for us to practice, then? Wanna make sure we get it right on the first try.”

You snort. “Perfektsionist.” Perfectionist.

“Only the best for you, moya zhena.” Andrei says, teasing. Underneath it though, you both know that he’s serious. Because if anything, even as he rises from the bed and lifts you in his arms, carrying you into the bathroom, you know he never does anything half assed. 

Now that you’re both on the same page, he’s going to do everything he can to ensure you’re well looked after from beginning to end, and when your little baby eventually comes, he’s going to work twice as hard to make sure the both of you are taken care of, and that you’ll want for nothing.

You, his almaznyy, and your future child, his malen'kaya rubin. His little ruby.

[queen-of-reptiles]

𝙽𝙾𝙽𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚂𝙴

description: In which sam kerr falls in love with sabrina carpenter’s best friend, a world renowned pop star who happens to be in australia for the world cup

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sam kerr x female reader

disclaimer: this is all fiction! Do not take any of this seriously.

warnings: language, cuteness - like so much, mutual pining

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y/n just posted

liked by sabrinacarpenter taylorswift and 4.5 million others

tagged sabrinacarpenter

y/n Adelaide are you ready???

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username1: AGHHHHHH YESSSSSSSSSSS 😍😍😍

username2: IM SO EXCITED 😭😭

username3: the way the England girlies were at the show the night before!!!! 🥺🥺

username4: Ella and Alessia and y/n's photos were so cute!

username5: THE TILLIES LIKED THIS 😩😩

matildas: so excited !! 💛💛

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y/n: excited to have you all!! 💛

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sabrinacarpenter: she really is excited ;)

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username6: isn't y/n a hammers fan????

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username7: she said in an interview recently if she met Mackenzie she would be so excited and that when she met Mark Noble she cried lmao 😭

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username8: she's just one big fangirl and I LOVE IT

see more comments…

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The show began just as usual, y/n and Sabrina dancing out to the screams and cheers, however this time, it was strange for y/n to know her celebrity crush was watching from the VIP box.

As y/n got out she shielded her eyes so she could look out on the crowd, faces grinning back at her and her best friend. y/n chanced a look up at the box and waved at the Tillies who cheered back.

"Adelaideeee!" y/n sung and the crowd got louder. "It is so good to see you sexy people!" She shouted.

"y/n means that to some more than others." Sabrina added. "Particularly single soccer captains." She adds.

y/n's head snaps to her best friend who giggles as the crowd goes wild, though y/n's obsession with football is well known, it wasn't often that her celebrity crushes were outed.

As y/n was very close with a few of the lionesses and now more of them, y/n had tried to stay clear of ending up in bed with any other ones of her friends professions, though had failed a few times.

However, the lionesses all knew about her very big crush on Sam Kerr, the single footballer being a sort of obsession for the singer and the group had promised Sabrina whatever she wanted if she made something happen that night.

"It's football." y/n adds to Sabrina who scoffs.

"It's soccer." Sabrina counters.

"Football."

"Soccer."

"Football."

"Soccer."

"Football."

Sabrina huffed at her stubborn best friend and the crowd laughed and cheered for their favourite duo.

"I guess we should do some singing." y/n sighs and the crowd gets louder as the intro plays.

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As it got to the end of the show the outro as usual started to play and the crowd cheered again as y/n took Sabrina's hand, the two swinging their interlocked fingers manically.

"Ya girls are crazy but feeling so free." y/n sang, people cheering as Sabrina giggled.

"Ya'll so hot, it's raising the degrees." Sabrina improved back, the crowd cheering as she winked, y/n panicked not having thought about her improv much.

"Sam Kerr I am single please DM me." y/n finished, Sabrina howling in laughter as y/n covered her mouth and crouched down, her heels helping her pop a Japanese Squat as she covered her face.

The crowd went crazy, cheers and screams echoing as the Matildas all cheered and patted their single captain on her back, Sam trying her best to not appear as if her cheeks were on fire.

"I'm sorry I panicked." y/n said into the microphone, still laughing with Sabrina.

"But seriously Sam, DM cause she's this hot on a Sunday." Sabrina states and the crowd cheers again.

"Okay shush." y/n laughs and the crowd cheers once again as the light finds the Matildas.

The screams get louder once the crowd see their football team and Sabrina laughs again when the camera zooms in on Sam who winks, y/n turning around and burying her face into her hands.

"Man life is tough." y/n sighs into her mic and everyone laughs at her again. "Anyways." She adds.

"Thank you so much for an amazing night." Sabrina says. "Ya'll have been amazing!" She adds.

"One hundred percent, you guys have been such a good crowd and thank you for that! We appreciate you all so much, the fact you buy these tickets, make these signs." y/n continues.

"Yeah, it is fantastic and we are so thankful for you all." Sabrina nods.

y/n smiles as the crowd cheers and she walks to Sabrina and wraps an arm around her friend's shoulders, the two waving out to the crowd as something is thrown at y/n.

"What's that?" y/n asks, reaching out and catching it to the shock of most people. "Oh it's a bra." y/n sighs before throwing it behind her.

"I really hope that wasn't worn." Sabrina says as y/n nods.

"And now someone has lost their cute bralette." y/n says sadly.

"Also, I hope that wasn't for you, because I tell you what she could get in that, half a tit." Sabrina says, pointing at the discarded blue bralette which was for a b-cup, definitely not y/n's size.

The crowd laughs of that and the girls say goodbye one more time before walking away to the screams and cheers as they finally get to backstage and help the crew get their mic packs off.

"This top is so tight, I'm going to have gone down a cup size by the time I get out of it." y/n huffs causing Sabrina to burst into laughter as they walk into their dressing room.

"Oh." Sabrina says and y/n's mouth drops at the Matildas who are all waiting for them.

"Holy SHIT." y/n shouts. "It's Mackenzie fucking Arnold." She says grabbing Sabrina's hands.

"I can see that sweetie." Sabrina snorts.

"Holy shit, it's y/n l/n!" Mackenzie calls back, just as excited to meet the world famous popstar.

y/n turns around for a brief moment, closing her eyes as she tries not to make herself look incredibly uncool which she knew she already had.

"Sorry, she panics." Sabrina apologises causing the team to laugh. y/n then turns back around and sighs.

"Apologies, I panic." She nods and the group laughs again. "I am a very big fan." She adds to Mackenzie.

"We are massive fans of ya." Mackenzie says back and y/n grins as a younger girl comes bounding over.

"Hi, I'm Kyra, I'm like a massive fan of you both." She admits and y/n grins pulling her into a hug which Kyra squealed at.

"You've just joined Arsenal haven't you?" y/n asks as they pull away and Kyra nods. "You're so talented!" She coos and Kyra looks as if she could have fainted.

"Right, can we please get these shoes off and change, then we can go out to dinner as planned?" Sabrina asks and y/n huffs.

"You never tell me anything, but yes please, my feet hurt." She adds as she and Sabrina shuffle over and hop their heels off, talking with the group of Australians as they do so.

After twenty minutes of getting to know them and laughing Sabrina and y/n quickly change behind their screens, coming out in dinner outfits and get ready to leave.

"Back again tomorrow." Sabrina smiles as she and y/n look around their dressing room, the Matildas having already been ushered out and into the cars.

"Sold out three nights at Adelaide, crazy." y/n laughs.

"50, 000 people a night." Sabrina adds and the two share a grin before grabbing their bags and walking out into the warm Australian air.

There are two cars waiting and Sabrina smirks, sharing a fist bump with one of their drivers as she tells y/n she will go in one car, and y/n in the other.

"Okay." y/n hums.

Sabrina kisses her cheek, and y/n smiles before getting into the car and buckling herself in, she then pauses when she realises who else in the car. Sam Kerr watching with a small smile.

"Oh that little shit." y/n sighs, placing her head in her hands.

"And here's me thinking you'd be excited." Sam chuckles as they pull away from the Oval.

"Would you be if you'd just admitted to 50, 000 people that you find me hot?" y/n laughs and Sam chuckles.

"I'd be happy to tell the world that I find you hot." Sam shrugs and y/n's head snaps up as she feels as if Sam had just stolen her lungs from her with a simple sentence.

"Okay, cool, cool cool cool." y/n nods before groaning. "Jesus, I am not usually this shit a flirting Christ." She scolds and Sam laughs.

"Ah, you're not doing too bad." Sam promises. "But there's no way for me to convince you to become a Chelsea fan?" She asks cheekily and y/n snorts.

"You'd have better luck trying to stop the night coming Kerr." y/n laughed and Sam chuckled.

"On last name term now are we, l/n?" Sam asks and y/n shrugs innocently.

"I didn't realise we were on first name terms." y/n says simply and Sam chuckles as she offers her hand out.

"Samantha." Sam offers and y/n smiles, placing her hand in Sam's.

"y/n." y/n smiles, but her cheeks darken when Sam brings her hand up to her lips to kiss it lightly.

"So, y/n." Sam begins. "I seem to have a problem as I can't seem to remember my number, can I just have yours instead?" She asks.

y/n lets out a delighted laugh at that, Sam's smile turning into a grin at the sound of the singer's laugh. y/n shakes her head at the flirt but can't calm the butterflies which have yet to settle in her stomach.

"Give me your phone then superstar." y/n chuckles, Sam smiling in pride as she watched y/n type in her number onto her phone and hand it back to her.

The car pulls to a stop and y/n calls out a thank you to her driver who reassures her it's no trouble. Sam slides out first, making it around to y/n's door so she can help her out.

"What a lovely lady you are Sam." y/n chuckles and Sam winks at her as she wraps an arm around her.

"Only for you Chick." Sam hums and watches delightedly as y/n's cheek flare again, especially as Sam's teammates cheer suggestively as they finally join the rest.

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twitter/X:

username1: THE PHOTOS ??? THEY ARE OUT TO DINNER??

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username2: the photos of Kyra, Sabrina and y/n are so cute!

^

username3: anyone notice how close Sam and y/n are sitting?!?!?!?

username4: ALERT NEW STORY Y/N'S WEARING SAM'S JACKET!! AND I THINK IT'S HER HAND ON HER WAIST!!!

username5: WE ARE GETTING FED TODNIGHT!!

see more comments…

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y/n just posted on their story

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sabrinacarpenter just posted on her story

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samanthakerr20 just posted on their story

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"So, did you actually improv the DM me line?" Sam asked y/n, the two were sat watching Torrens. It was late in the evening now and most of the girls had gone back to their camp other than Sam and y/n.

The world cup didn't kick-off for another twelve days, but training was brutal, and the girls had a rather late session tomorrow so they could come to the show tonight and increase social media talk.

"Yep, completely panicked." y/n chuckled, the 3am air not as bothersome since Sam gave her the jacket.

"And you genuinely are attracted to me?" Sam asks.

"Insanely attracted to you." y/n groans, Sam chuckling at that.

"And you wouldn't mind if I kissed you right now?" Sam asked.

"Not at all." y/n said, before she paused and realised what had been said. "Wait, what..." y/n began but lips being placed on hers shut her up.

The kiss was still, soft, a long peck but it was what they both had wanted all night and as they pulled away Sam grinned at y/n's shocked look.

"I wanna take you out." Sam hummed and y/n nodded aimlessly.

"Anytime, anyplace, anywhere." y/n breathed and Sam laughed as she wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close.

"You've got a place near London right?" Sam asks and y/n nods.

"Yeah." She hums.

"So if it goes well, we can definitely continue back in England." She adds and y/n smiled.

"Bet." She nods.

"Bet indeed." Sam chuckles.

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y/n just posted on their story

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samanthakerr just posted on her story

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END

part two ?? ;)))

- Queenie x

[tin-wufborf]

Tin's Favorite Sterek Fics (Part 11)

Hello again, and welcome to part 11! I cannot believe I'm up to 11 parts on this thing with more to come (though not too many more, I think). That means I've recommended 200 fics/series so far as I've been doing 20 recs per post. Tbh I'm actually pretty proud of myself over this because it means I've been showing incredible restraint throughout this process in only recommending my favoritiest-favorites as opposed to every single fic I can remember liking even a little bit (don't worry, that will be the next series lol). For reference, I currently have 2,610 Sterek bookmarks in total on AO3 and have so far reviewed 1,749 of them to get to those select 200. That is wild to me lol.

BUT ANYHOOZLE.

As always, thank you all again for the support you've shown this series. I hope you're all having as good a day as you can, if not a great day. Smoochies and squeezies from me to you!

List and links to previous/next part(s) below the cut.

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DISCLAIMER: This is me warning you all that some of the fics I've included in this list may cover explicit, dark, and/or "taboo" subject matters. I cannot express enough how little I care what anyone thinks about any of that; all I want is for you to use caution when reading anything I've listed here and to please review and heed whatever tags the authors have provided in order to keep yourselves safe. Your experience from this point on is your own responsibility, not mine and not the authors'.

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Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20

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not enough by Jana_C (G | 1/1 | 1,569)

Sometimes love is just not enough.

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A Quiet Night (Not in the Cards) by Delightful_I_Am (T | 1/1 | 4,369)

"Derek fucking Hale!"

The shout rang through the bar and for a long moment nobody moved. It was like something out of a movie. Everything just stopped; the music cut off; one of the servers had frozen mid-pour. Grady would have laughed if he weren't holding his breath. The kid straightened his shirt, a glimpse of stomach showing the curling edges of a tattoo on his hip, and strode toward where Hale was sitting in the dark corner. As one, every supe in the place turned to see Hale's reaction; the last person to try to confront Hale in here had left with a broken hand and a whispered threat that the next time Hale would rip their throat out. With his teeth. Unsurprisingly, Hale's face was set in its usual glower, although it seemed a bit softer around the eyes. It took Grady a second to realise Hale knew the kid.

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Painted Wooden Letters by DiscontentedWinter (T | 5/5 | 10,013)

All he ever wanted to be was Stiles Stilinski.

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Babcia Knows Best by thepsychicclam (T | 1/1 | 11,887)

Stiles takes his grandmother to bingo every Thursday. Now there's a new guy calling out the numbers, and his grandmother has decided to set them up.

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god knows I am dissonance by scepticallyopenminded (E | 1/1 | 24,239)

Stiles has zero regrets – zero, absolutely none – about leaving Beacon Hills after he graduates from Stanford. He knows his dad is good, has friends, has the force, has Melissa, and knows that even if he and Mel weren’t dating, that Scott has the sheriff’s back, will take care of him, keep him safe.

He knows Lydia has no regrets, either, and the two of them hop a plane less than a week after the graduation ceremony, two full weeks before their lease in Menlo Park is even up. They pack up a U-Haul, go back to Beacon Hills for two nights, and then they’re off to LAX, three suitcases and two carry-ons between the both of them.

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There's joy not far from here by Talis89 (M | 9/9 | 28,354)

“I’m coming,” Derek calls, shrugging on a sweater. The first few days of March had been warm, but the weather has turned in the last week - winter's last ‘fuck you’ - and Derek is expecting the icy blast as the warm air rushes out the front door. “What—” His breath freezes in his throat.

“Hey there, Sourwolf.”

Stiles is standing on the front porch— Derek’s front porch— his right hand waved in a half wave.

“Stiles?” Derek almost takes a step back. “What are you— how?”

~

Two years after Derek runs from Beacon Hills, Stiles turns up at his front door looking for his own escape. What follows is a story of adventure, healing and finding a place to call home.

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The Heart Remains The Same by heartsdesire459 (T | 1/1 | 28,797)

When Stiles left for college, he already knew the truth... Stiles wasn't a 'he' at all. Dropped into a new, exciting, liberating level of freedom that came with going to college somewhere without anyone who knew her, Stiles began to explore her true self and began her quest to become the girl she knew she had always been. Her fears of everyone's reactions back home led to skipping the first holiday... and then a second. And then the next.

Two and a half years after leaving Beacon Hills - two and a half years spent living an entire new life as a trans!woman - a call in the night forces Stiles to go back to Beacon Hills to face the people she had left and the friends she had abandoned.

“Stiles… it’s your dad.”

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The Second Coming (of Werewolf Jesus) by lupinus, uraneia (E | 3/3 | 40,104)

Stiles was enjoying his senior year until his crazy English teacher decided he made the best candidate to gestate Derek's kid. Now Stiles is a seventeen-year-old pregnant dude and he and Derek have to figure their shit out, because in nine months they are going to be tied together for the rest of their lives.

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Burning House by 1jet2unknown, nottoolateforthegame (E | 15/15 | 41,007)

“Why am I here? What was the point of showing me all that? It’s not like it’s going to change anything!”

You can change it.

 “How?!”

 You can change it if you go back.

“Then take me back!”

Stiles’s stomach lurched as the world tilted and stretched sideways.

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Now as Ever (All That Is and Has Been) by venis_envy (E | 16/16 | 52,270)

Stiles can't remember what happened to rearrange the time-space continuum, or how he ended up being pulled into the past. All he knows is that he's there now, in 2003 Beacon Hills, with a teenage werewolf and a possibly-crazy veterinarian as his only allies.

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Words Cannot Espresso How Much You Bean to Me by isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) (T | 1/1 | 68,368)

“You’re late,” Derek informed him coldly, jaw clenched. He barely even moved his mouth to speak. This guy was seriously scary.

And because Stiles was suicidal, he said, “No, I’m Stiles.”

The look he got could’ve curdled milk. Stiles even noticed that Derek’s muscles were tensing, arms bulging even more and wow this guy was scary and hot but mostly scary holy shit.

“You’re not funny,” Derek informed him coldly.

Stiles shrugged. “I think that’s a matter of opinion.”

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Daybreak by TheObsidianQuill (M | 10/10 | 70,382)

"There . . ." Stiles swallowed and looked down at the bottle in his grasp as he slowly swirled the amber liquid inside. "There's really nothing left. For me. Everyone is . . . gone, and it feels like I haven't thought of tomorrow in years." His words rang in the air like a gunshot, he took another heavy drink. "I would trade every last breath I take to just have another shot—not even a guarantee, just a chance to make things right and bring back even one of them." -----

The pack was gone. He had nothing left. He had no one. With nothing to lose, Stiles puts everything on the line to go back in time to try to prevent the future from becoming his past. Broken, guarded, and haunted by his past, only one overgrown-pup of a wolf seems able to get past his defenses. Changing the future? Easy. Finding a place for himself in the Hale Pack? Impossible.

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What Goes Around by KouriArashi (M | 16/16 | 71,451)

“Well,” Stiles says, “if they’re going to hunt werewolves, I’m going to hunt them.”

It’s a ridiculous statement from a ten-year-old, but he’s obviously one hundred percent sincere. For the first time since the fire, Peter feels life stir inside him, feels purpose. It’s kismet, clearly. He’ll never meet the child he would have had with Olivia. Instead he’s met this boy, this brilliant, determined, cynical child with a world of potential.

Peter kneels down in front of him so they’re at eye level. “How do you feel about doing that together?”

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The Law of the Jungle by Nutellargh (E | 1/1 | 75,854)

After the Kanima fiasco is over, Derek takes his three betas and leaves Beacon Hills. Stiles knows he could contact him if needed, but they barely keep in touch, and only about mundane things. 4 years later, after a steady stream of supernatural issues they somehow manage to deal with, Lydia is the one to contact Derek when Stiles starts looking worse and worse everyday, with no idea as to how or why. The Slavic monster draining Stiles' energy points them to a much bigger issue Beacon Hills has been troubled with for years.

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Windows by dr_girlfriend (E | 28/28 | 83,266)

Derek has a new neighbor who won't stop looking.

Excerpt:

“You’re blind,” Derek said flatly, the anger draining from him so suddenly he felt almost woozy. His vision cleared, his claws sliding back into blunt fingernails.

“Thanks for the memo, genius,” the kid said acidly. “I can still fucking defend myself, so don’t take another damn step.”

“Fuck, I...I’m sorry,” Derek stuttered.

“What?!” The kid’s brow crinkled. “I mean — what?! You’re fucking sorry!?” His lips thinned into a harsh line. “What, is this some kinda Hallmark movie where you’re discovering the error of your ways because you don’t want to rob a blind person?! That’s fucking condescending, man. I’ll have you know that —”

“Just, wait.” Derek interrupted what was apparently the start of a convincing argument as to why he should rob the kid after all, feeling his head start to spin. “This is — it’s a misunderstanding. I’m — I’m not robbing you. You’re — you’re safe, okay? I’m taking three steps back. Just — just let me explain.”

“Explain why you came busting into my apartment? Yeah, go right ahead, man, I can’t wait to hear this epic tale.”

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where thou art, that is home series by ShanaStoryteller (8 works | NR-E | 94,108)

Hi, Tin here. Once again, Tumblr is deciding not to allow me to post any of the individual stories and summaries here, so here's a very brief summary without me waxing poetic about the series:

This is a canon-divergent AU series that acts as a sort of "fix it" for the universe without sacrificing the things we know and love from canon (imo). It begins with Stiles (and Scott as his co-pilot) managing to prevent the Hale fire from taking out the whole of the Hale pack and then moves forward from there. Lots of BAMF!Everyone abound and interesting takes on existing tropes and canon elements. I urge you all to check it out.

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The Taming of the Wolf by Amethystina (T | 15/15 | 105,352)

When Stiles seeks shelter from the rain in a rundown house in the middle of the woods, the last thing he expects is to find that someone is actually living there. Even less that the person in question isn't quite human. Derek is something else entirely.

Before he knows it, Stiles is thrown into a world he knows very little about and while he enjoys the unlikely and complex relationship that sparks between them, it's obvious that something darker is lurking in the shadows. Something from Derek's past that is just waiting to tear them apart.

Chapters 13, 14 and 15 are bonus chapters, featuring the same story but from Derek's POV (a total of 40 700 words). This is basically two fics in one.

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Anthracite by LupusScintilla (inkandblade) (E | 16/16 | 106,673)

It's been a quiet few years, and the McCall Pack has grown and settled. But, when the Hale Pack return to Beacon Hills they find Scott isn't as welcoming as they had hoped.

Soon they, Stiles, and Lydia, find out that not everything about the McCall Pack is as it has always seemed.

♠

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All Bark and No Bite series by MoonlitMemories (3 works | NR-M | 157,246)

1. Protect and Serve (M | 17/17 | 150,789) Stiles discovers the Nemeton starting to grow again in the preserve on Hale land. What does that mean for the pack? More importantly: why does the Nemeton seem so attached to Stiles? 2. Baby makes Three (G | 1/1 | 3,202) Erica finds out she's pregnant. 3. One of Us (NR | 1/1 | 3,255) Malia doesn't know what to do with the Hale pack.

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Get You The Moon by A ClosedFicIsNeverRead (E | 30/30 | 180,785)

Derek looked up in surprise to note that they were taking a private jet. Dread settled into his gut like a stone. “It has a cage, doesn’t it?” he asked quietly, and noted the subtle changes in his family members’ posture. “Is it for me?” Cora gave him a pleading look and nodded. “Is it because of what you’re going to tell me?” he asked, voice like gravel. Another nod confirmed it. Stiles. Oh, GOD. It had to be Stiles. Derek would not lose control over anyone else in Beacon Hills and they damned well knew it.

- OR -

The one where Derek has been gone for 6 months building a new life, finds out that Stiles is being assaulted by Theo, so he comes back to Beacon Hills to kick some serious ass and rescue the loudmouthed human who stole his heart.

(You will need ALL the tissues, but it will have a happy ending by the time all is said and done!)

Title inspired by song: ‘Get You The Moon’ by Kina ft. Snow

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[writingsoftarnishedsilver]

Home | Sebastian Sallow x OC #66

(LAST CHAPTER)

Wow. What a ride this has been.

More than 400,000 words later, we’ve reached the end of What Happened After.

What started as a simple idea of mine turned into months of writing this twisting, turning, and painfully slow burn story. It’s been a labor of love, and I still can’t quite believe it's finished.

To everyone who’s read, commented, shared, or even just quietly supported this story—thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. Knowing you’ve spent your precious time reading my work means more to me than I can put into words.

I hope the payoff has been worth the incredibly long wait for these two idiots to finally get their act together. I hope you’ve enjoyed this journey as much as I’ve loved writing it. I hope it made you feel something, gave you an escape, or maybe just a little joy when you needed it most. This story has been such a big part of my life, and knowing it’s meant something to you is the best reward I could ask for.

Thank you for coming along on this wild, emotional, magical ride.

P.S. This might be the end of What Happened After, but it’s definitely not the end of Evie and Sebastian. One-shots, AU ramblings, and whatever else their chaotic love story inspires are still very much on the table. So don’t be surprised if these two show up again...

Words: ~10,500

Tags: Explicit Smut, Fluff, and Happy Endings :)

Timeline: Early October

Start from the beginning?

Read on AO3

The first thing Evangeline became aware of was the scent—earthy and familiar, mixed with the hint of freshly laundered quilts. Her mind moved slowly, the thick fog of sleep lifting in pieces as sensations filtered in one by one: the weight of blankets cocooning her, the steady ticking of a clock somewhere nearby, the soft creak of wood beneath shifting footsteps.

She stirred slightly, her limbs feeling leaden, but the ache that accompanied the movement wasn’t sharp. It was dull, like the lingering echo of exhaustion, and with it came the realization that she was no longer in the chaos of the High Season Ball. There were no curses flying past her, no shattered marble, no blood.

Her eyes fluttered open, the light in the room muted but still enough to make her blink against it. It took her a moment to place the room, though everything about it felt like an extension of the man she knew better than anyone.

Bookshelves crowded into one corner were crammed with books, their spines leaning haphazardly against each other alongside stacks of parchment scrawled with his untidy handwriting. A battered broomstick rested against the wall, its handle scratched and worn, next to one of her old Gryffindor scarves, faded but lovingly kept.

On the dresser across from her, framed photographs lined the surface, their occupants alive with movement, and beside them, the pensieve she had gifted him years ago, surrounded by delicate glass vials—her memories, offered freely and kept close.

On the nightstand, next to a glass of water, rested his compass, its needle enchanted to point him home, to her, and beside it, the remains of a companion candle, burned down to the very bottom.

Sebastian's room. She was in Feldcroft.

The thought lingered as she pushed herself upright, the effort slow and deliberate as her body protested the movement with a dull ache. The hazy fragments of her memories came rushing back—the ball, the blinding surge of her magic, the fight. Her heart quickened as her mind replayed flashes of Sebastian slumped on the floor, pale and unmoving.

Her breath caught, panic threatening to rise until a soft murmur of voices reached her ears, distant but distinct. They were calm, unhurried—a warm hum of conversation that trickled down the hallway.

Anne’s light, melodic voice was unmistakable, weaving through the steadier cadence of Ominis. Beneath them was the deeper, rumbling timbre of her uncles, the sound grounding her like nothing else could. But there was one voice missing—Sebastian’s.

Her heart leapt and sank in tandem, her chest tightening with the need to see him. Was he okay? Had he—

“Evie?”

The voice startled her, soft but so achingly familiar that it sent her spinning toward the doorway. There he was, leaning against the frame, his broad shoulders filling the space as though he belonged there more than the walls themselves. His dark hair was tousled, his shirt wrinkled as usual, and his eyes—those deep brown eyes—were fixed on her with a mixture of disbelief and cautious joy.

“You’re awake,” he said, his voice thick with relief.

Her lips parted, but for a moment, no words came. All she could do was stare, taking in the sight of him standing there, whole and alive, until her voice found her. “Sebastian.”

In two strides, he was at her side, crouching in front of her, his hands hovering uncertainly as though he didn’t know whether to touch her or not. “You—you've had us all worried sick,” he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. “How are you feeling?”

Evangeline didn’t hesitate. She reached for him, her hands finding his cheeks and tugging his lips to hers.

“How are you feeling?” she countered, her voice rough as she spoke against his mouth.

Sebastian let out a breathless laugh, his hands coming up to cradle hers as he pulled back just enough to meet her eyes. “I’m fine, Evie,” he murmured, his voice low but steady. “I’m more worried about you.”

Her brow furrowed, her hands still resting against his cheeks as she searched his face for any sign of pain or lingering injury. “Fine?” she repeated, her voice thick with doubt. “Sebastian, I saw—”

“I’m fine," he interrupted gently, his hands coming to rest over hers. "Better than fine now that you're awake.”

Her thumbs brushed against his cheekbones as though she needed to feel the warmth of his skin to believe it. “But you weren’t fine,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “You—Sebastian, you were—”

“I know,” he interrupted gently, his hands coming to rest over hers. “They told me. But you saved me.”

“Merlin, you scared me,” she admitted, her voice a hoarse whisper.

Sebastian leaned into her touch, his thumb brushing against the back of her hand. “You think you scared me any less?” he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “None of us knew how long it would take you to wake up.”

“I’m okay,” she reassured him. “I'm just... I'm glad you're here.”

“Of course I’m here,” he replied, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “And if you’d like, I can summon the others—they’ll be thrilled you’re awake.”

Her eyes flickered to the doorway, where the faint murmur of voices continued, underscored by a rich, familiar laugh that she knew belonged to one of her uncles. The sound grounded her, but her focus remained on Sebastian.

“In a minute,” she said, her voice softer now. “Just... stay with me for a little longer.”

Sebastian’s smile deepened, the lines of worry softening around his eyes. “As long as you need

.”

He shifted from his crouched position to sit beside her on the bed, their shoulders brushing. His hand found hers, threading their fingers together.

For a moment, they sat in silence, the muted sounds of life down the hallway serving as a quiet reminder that they weren’t alone. But in this room, in this moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Evangeline's gaze flicked to their joined hands, the calluses on his fingers rough against her smoother skin.

“What… what happened after the ball?” she asked hesitantly.

Sebastian exhaled slowly. “Quite a lot,” he said, his tone soft but measured. “You’ve been out for over a week, Evie.”

Her head snapped up, her eyes widening in disbelief. “A week?”

“It’s October now,” he said gently, a faint smile tugging at the incredulity on her face. “We’re well into the month, actually."

Evangeline blinked, struggling to process the sheer amount of time she’d missed. “October,” she repeated, shaking her head. “I can’t believe it”

Sebastian hummed, his thumb brushing over the back of her hand in a soothing gesture. “You needed the rest. Your uncles… they said your magic took a toll on you. Anne and had her Healer friends gave second opinion as well; said it was exhaustion."

“It's so odd. That whole night feels… hazy," she murmured, her gaze dropping to their intertwined hands. “Like grasping at smoke. I didn’t know my magic could do that—I didn’t know I could do that. All I really remember is you."

Sebastian tilted his head, studying her with those steady brown eyes. “Well it saved us. You saved us,” he said. "Ominis keeps saying he's never seen anything like it, that you brought every Gaunt to their knees single handedly."

Evangeline's fingers tightened around his as she shook her head, her voice trembling. “I didn’t even know what I was doing, Sebastian. It was just—everything was falling apart, and you—” She stopped, swallowing hard as the sole memory of his blood pooling on the floor resurfaced.

Sebastian squeezed her hand, pulling her attention back to him. “—you put it all back together,” he said softly. “You did what none of us could.”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of everything pressing down on Evangeline's chest. She took a deep breath, tilting her head to look up at him. “...Then what happened?” she asked quietly, needing to fill in the gaps.

“After you… after you stopped them, the Ministry showed up," Sebastian explained. "Law enforcement, Healers. They took everyone into custody—Noctivus, Marvolo, Valeria. The Muldoon imposter. It’s been nonstop since then, interrogations, statements, evidence gathering. They’re building the case for trial.”

Evangeline's brows furrowed, her mind racing. “And the Prophet? What have they been saying?”

Sebastian’s lips quirked into a wry smile. “Oh, they’ve had a field day with it. Every detail of the ball has been front-page news. They’re calling it the downfall of the Gaunts, besides Ominis of course. And us…” He hesitated, his expression softening. “Well, they’ve certainly changed their tune.”

Her brow arched, a flicker of disbelief crossing her face. “Changed their tune?”

He nodded. “Apparently, we’re the the story of the year. ‘The Love That Defied Bloodlines,’” he said with a faint laugh. “The Prophet’s suddenly very interested in painting us as heroes.”

She groaned, pressing a hand to her face. “Merlin help me.”

Sebastian chuckled, leaning back slightly as he watched her reaction with amusement. “At least they’re not tearing us apart anymore.”

“Small mercies,” she muttered, though the corner of her mouth twitched in a reluctant smile.

“And,” he added, his voice softening. “Anne and Ominis are planning their engagement party. They’re talking about inviting everyone—Our Hogwarts friends, colleagues. They’ve been waiting for you to wake up so they could tell you.”

Evangeline’s heart warmed at the thought, her smile softening. “That sounds perfect.”

“It will be,” Sebastian said, his thumb still brushing over her hand. “Anne’s been fussing over every detail, and Ominis is pretending not to care, but you know he’s secretly just as invested.”

Her laugh was soft, genuine, and it made his own smile widen. “That sounds about right.”

“They’ve missed you,” he said, his voice lowering slightly. “We all have.”

Evangeline leaned into Sebastian, her cheek resting against his shoulder as she closed her eyes and breathed in his familiar scent.

The memories of the ball still felt fractured. like pieces of shattered glass, but Evangeline realized it didn't really matter. They had won. She had Sebastian, and Anne, and Ominis. And her family. And finally, finally, everything in the world had righted itself.

She leaned back, meeting his gaze with a small, steady smile. “I think I’m ready.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, his lips twitching into a teasing smirk. “To see everyone? Are you sure? I know Anne’s been dying to fuss over you, and Ominis… well, you know how he is.”

Evangeline rolled her eyes, but the warmth in her chest deepened. “I think I can handle them.”

He squeezed her hand, his smirk softening into something tender. “Alright. Let’s not keep them waiting.”

Sebastian stood first, extending his hand to help her up. She took it, her legs trembling slightly as she rose, but his steady grip anchored her. Once she was on her feet, he kept her close, his arm slipping around her waist as they made their way to the door.

The hallway was bathed in the golden light of late afternoon, the voices from the kitchen growing clearer with each step. Anne’s laughter floated through the air, followed by Ominis’s low, amused reply. The deeper rumble of Cassian’s voice interjected, eliciting a sharp bark of laughter from Percival.

Evangeline paused just outside the doorway, her heart swelling as she listened to the harmony of voices—familiar, comforting, and hers. These were her people, her family.

Sebastian nudged her gently. “Go on,” he said softly.

Taking a deep breath, Evangeline stepped into the room. All conversation ceased as every pair of eyes turned toward her. For a moment, the silence was deafening, and then Anne let out a delighted squeal, practically launching herself across the room to wrap Evangeline in a fierce hug.

“You’re awake!” Anne exclaimed, her voice bubbling with relief and joy. “Finally!”

Evangeline laughed softly, returning the embrace as Anne squeezed her tightly.

Ominis was next, his pale eyes lighting up as he crossed the room. “You gave us quite the scare,” he said, his voice steady but warm as he embraced her. “But I should have known better. Nothing can keep you down for long.”

Before Evangeline could respond, her uncles and aunts approached, their expressions a mix of concern and joy. Cassian clasped her shoulder, his grip firm but gentle. “You look better than I expected,” he said with a faint smile.

Benedict and Percival flanked him, their smiles broad and genuine as they added their greetings, each of them pulling her into quick, affectionate hugs, followed by their wives and Annalise.

The room felt full—of warmth, of laughter, of love—and as Evangeline settled into a seat between Anne and Sebastian, she let herself be swept up in the conversation. They talked about everything: Anne and Ominis’s engagement party plans, the latest Daily Prophet articles, and even how they'd received letters informing them of Cressida Bloom and Garreth Weasley's engagement.

At one point, Anne recounted some of the more absurd rumors that had surfaced in the Daily Prophet about the ball—one involving a duel with a Hungarian Horntail, which Ominis dryly corrected as “purely fabricated nonsense.”

“You know how the Prophet loves its embellishments,” he added, leaning back with a faint smirk. “Apparently, they’ve dubbed you ‘The Star of the Summer’, Evangeline. Quite dramatic, really.”

Evangeline groaned, dropping her head into her hands. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m certainly not,” Ominis replied, though the faint amusement in his voice betrayed him. “You should see the artwork they’ve commissioned. You look very noble. Very… glowing.”

Anne burst into laughter, clutching her side. “I’m pretty sure they’ve decided you’re a goddess now, Evie.”

Sebastian leaned in closer, his lips twitching as he suppressed a grin. “I’ll be sure to get a framed copy for the mantle.”

Evangeline shot him a glare, though the corners of her mouth betrayed her amusement. “Don’t you dare.”

Before the conversation could descend further into chaos, Cassian cleared his throat, drawing the room’s attention. “Speaking of the ball,” he began, his tone measured, “we’ve had some time to think about what happened—specifically, your magic, Evangeline.”

The room quieted, the earlier levity replaced by curiosity. Evangeline straightened in her chair, her gaze flicking to her uncles. “What about it?”

Cassian leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Your display… Even in the context of ancient magic, what you did was extraordinary. We’ve been digging through the family archives, trying to understand how it could manifest so powerfully.”

Benedict nodded, his expression thoughtful. “From what we’ve gathered, it seems to stem from a ritual our ancestors practiced, though we’re still working to translate the runic texts.”

Evangeline frowned, her brow furrowing. “That makes sense,” she said slowly. “Months ago… almost a year ago now, I had this dream. Or vision, maybe. There was this place, like a ritual site. There were these hooded figures, and… a woman. She looked like me, like… like us. She said something about boundless power, about it being mine if I chose to accept it.”

Her uncles exchanged a glance, their expressions brightening with recognition.

“Your vision perfectly matches recorded accounts of the Ritual of Resonance,” Percival confirmed. “It’s said to be a rite that connects the caster to their ancient magic completely, forging an unbreakable bond.”

Evangeline blinked, the weight of his words settling over her. “But I didn’t perform any ritual. It just… I remembered the dream in the moment and then… it just happened.”

“Perhaps it didn’t need to be formalized,” Cassian offered. “You were in a moment of extreme need. The magic must have responded instinctively.”

Anne, who had been quiet, leaned forward with a curious tilt of her head. “So what does that mean? Is Evie… stronger now?”

“In a way. It's more that her magical connection is... unparalleled,” Benedict said firmly. “But this kind of power isn’t without consequence. It comes at a cost… which is, presumably, why you were unconscious for eight days.”

Evangeline let the words sink in, her fingers tightening around her teacup. “I’ll learn how to control it, I’ll… I’ll figure it out,” she said quietly.

“You will,” Cassian said with conviction, his eyes softening as they met hers. “You’re a Muldoon. And we’ll be here to help you every step of the way.”

Benedict leaned back, his arms crossing over his chest as he added, “But take it slow. No experimenting until you’ve fully recovered. I mean it, Evangeline.”

Evangeline smiled faintly, appreciating the protective tone. “I’ll take it slow,” she promised.

Sebastian shifted beside her, his arm brushing hers as he leaned in. “Good. Because I’d rather not wake up to violet fireballs crashing through the walls.”

Anne chuckled, interrupting with a sly grin. “She can save them for Joseph Carling’s return. Did Sebastian mention what’s been going on with him?”

Evangeline raised an eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. “No, what happened?”

Anne chucking mischievously. “Lady Greengrass told the Prophet all about the hissy fit he had in front of you and Sebastian at the ball, and they’ve done quite the hatchet job on his reputation.” Anne smirked, clearly relishing the gossip. “The Prophet called it ‘a most unseemly display unbefitting a gentleman of his station.’ His mother is mortified.”

Sebastian let out a low chuckle, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin. “Serves him right. Carling’s been insufferable all season.”

Evangeline couldn’t help but laugh, shaking her head. “Indeed. I can’t say I’m sorry to hear it.”

“No matter. He’s off to New Zealand now,” Anne said with an exaggerated wave of her hand.

“Licking his wounds, no doubt,” Ominis added dryly, “Though he seemed rather pleased to leave. I think he realized he was no match for you—or Sebastian.”

Sebastian chuckled, shaking his head. “Good riddance.”

Evangeline laughed softly, her shoulders relaxing as the conversation drifted back into more mundane and lighthearted territory. For the next hour, they regaled the Muldoons with stories about Hogwarts, teasing one another over past exploits, and in turn learning more about Durmstrang’s true nature.

Cassian leaned back in his chair, his expression curious as he listened. “Hogwarts sounds like utter chaos. At Durmstrang, the professors would have thrown us out for half of what you’re describing.”

Benedict, though usually stoic, smirked faintly. “Durmstrang had its own peculiarities, but nothing as… lively as your tales. The rumors in Britain paint it as a den of dark magic, but the reality was far more controlled.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “So no shadowy corners where students practiced forbidden spells?”

Cassian chuckled. “Nothing of the sort. Yes, we studied the Dark Arts more openly than Hogwarts, but it was always academic—never indulgent.”

“Still sounds a bit grim,” Evangeline said thoughtfully. “I think I’d miss the bedlam. Hogwarts could be chaotic, but it has a special kind of charm.”

“‘Charm’ isn’t quite how I’d describe it,” Ominis interjected dryly. “With you two, it was more like barely controlled anarchy.”

“That’s an understatement,” Evangeline replied, grinning. “Sebastian made it his personal mission to break every rule in the book.”

Sebastian smirked, leaning back. “Oh, come now. I wasn’t the only one causing trouble, Evangeline.”

Evangeline flushed. “Alright, alright. I might not have been the best behaved student.”

The conversation paused as Anne’s smile faltered slightly. “I wish I’d been there to see it,” she said quietly. “I hated leaving after fourth year.”

Her voice trailed off, and the room grew momentarily somber.

Cassian leaned forward, his expression softening. “Anne, have you looked into any other treatments? Beyond St. Mungo’s?”

Evangeline stiffened, exchanging a glance with Sebastian as the buried memories of fifth year resurfaced—the desperate, dangerous lengths Sebastian had gone to in search of a cure. But Anne simply nodded, her tone calm but tinged with resignation.

“Well, I’ve been part of a clinical trial for pain management. It’s helped—but it’s not perfect. The pain is always there, just… quieter, most of the time. On bad days, though…” She trailed off, shaking her head. “Well, I manage.”

Sebastian’s jaw tightened, his hand curling into a fist against the arm of his chair. Evangeline, noticing his tension, reached out subtly and brushed her fingers against his. He didn’t meet her gaze, but his hand relaxed under her touch.

Cassian exchanged a thoughtful glance with Benedict and Percival before speaking again, his tone measured. “Anne, the Muldoon archives are vast, spanning centuries of magical research. If there are effective alternative methods for managing your curse, we’ll find them.

Anne blinked, startled. “...You’d do that?”

“Of course,” Percival said firmly. “A friend of Evangeline’s is a friend of ours, and it’s clear you’ve endured more than anyone should.”

Benedict leaned forward, his tone calm but serious. “We may already have a head start. Our ancestors had ties to a witch called Isidora Morganach, who wielded ancient magic to relieve pain.”

Evangeline stiffened, her eyes narrowing slightly. “I-Isidora?”

“You know of her?” Cassian asked, curiosity flickering across his face.

Evangeline nodded slowly, her voice careful. “I do. She… like you said, she removed people’s pain, but it ended in tragedy. Surely you’re not suggesting that I—”

Cassian held up a hand, his tone reassuring. “No, no. Certainly not, Evangeline. At least, not in the way Isidora practiced it.“

“We are well aware of the dangers," Benedict added, his expression grave. "But Isidora's theories about the connection between pain, magic, and the human spirit may not be entirely without merit.”

Evangeline’s brows furrowed, worry and skepticism etched into her features. “But her work was destructive. Her methods are not something anyone should ever attempt again. I would never—”

“And we agree,” Percival said firmly. “What we’re suggesting isn’t to replicate Isidora’s methods, but to study her insights. Our ancestors corresponded with her before her fall—not to follow her path, but to understand it... refine and temper it. If we can separate the wisdom from her recklessness, perhaps there’s a chance we could use ancient magic to truly heal without harmful consequences.”

Anne, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke, her voice tentative. “But… is that even possible?”

Cassian’s gaze softened as he looked at her. “We don’t know for certain. But if there’s a way, we’ll find it.”

Anne hesitated, twisting her fingers together. “I don’t know… it sounds risky. And… I’ve made peace with the pain, mostly. And… I don’t want to get my hopes up,” she admitted softly. “What if it leads nowhere? Or worse, what if it backfires?”

Percival spoke with quiet conviction. “We will proceed cautiously. Nothing will be attempted unless we are certain it’s safe. And if we uncover nothing, you’ll lose nothing—except perhaps a bit of our time spent searching.”

Sebastian, who had remained tense and silent throughout the conversation, finally spoke, his voice rough but steady. “Anne, you’ve spent years living with this curse. You’ve carried it longer than anyone should have to. If there’s even a chance—no matter how slim—perhaps it’s worth trying?”

Anne’s eyes softened, the barest flicker of hope creeping into her expression. “I… I’ll think about it,” she said after a long pause, fixing her gaze on the Muldoons brothers. “If you do find something—and if it’s safe—I’d like to know more.”

“We wouldn’t do it any other way,” Cassian assured her. “We’ll look into it thoroughly and share anything we discover. The choice will always be yours. And Evangeline’s of course, since she would be the practitioner.”

Evangeline reached out and squeezed Anne’s hand. “You don’t have to make any decisions now. Just knowing there’s a chance… that’s a start.”

Anne smiled faintly, her fingers relaxing in Evangeline’s grip. “Thank you. Really.”

The conversation lingered for a moment, a delicate thread of cautious optimism settling in the air. Then Sebastian cleared his throat, his voice breaking the silence.

“Since we’re on the topic of Isidora,” he began, glancing at Evangeline before turning to the Muldoons, “there’s something else you might be able to help with. It’s about her repository under Hogwarts.”

Evangeline stiffened slightly, her fingers tightening around Anne’s for a moment before she released her hand. “Sebastian, you don’t—”

“I think it’s worth mentioning,” he said gently but firmly. Turning back to the Muldoons, he continued, “We all know Evangeline was the one who stopped Ranrok from harnessing the power of the repository. But what she endured down there... She's suffered recurring nightmares because of it—of Ranrok, of what that power could do.”

Evangeline’s expression faltered for a moment before she composed herself. “It’s not something I like to dwell on,” she admitted quietly. “But...it is true. The magic down there… it’s not meant to be wielded by anyone.”

Cassian’s brows knit together in concern. “And it’s still there? Beneath Hogwarts?”

“Yes,” Sebastian said. “The Headmaster agreed to seal it off with wards after everything that happened, but we’ve been trying to figure out ways to enhance the protections even further—for Evangeline’s peace of mind. Unfortunately, with the social season and everything else that’s been happening, it’s been hard to make much progress.”

Percival leaned forward, his expression thoughtful. “Our library has an extensive section on protective wards and enchantments.”

Benedict nodded. “If there are ways to strengthen the existing wards—or add more to ensure that power can never be accessed again—we will certainly be able to do so.”

Evangeline hesitated, her hazel eyes flickering between the Muldoons and Sebastian. “I don’t want to drag you all into this. It’s… it’s dangerous. The magic down there is volatile, and even with the wards, I can feel it sometimes. It’s like it’s… sentient.”

“That’s all the more reason to act,” Cassian said firmly. “If the repository poses a threat—not just to you, but to Hogwarts and anyone who might seek its power—it must be secured. We’ll prioritize this. You’ve already done more than enough to protect it. Let us take up the task now.”

Evangeline exhaled slowly, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Alright,” she said finally. “If there’s a way to make sure that magic stays sealed forever… I’d like that.”

Sebastian leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Evangeline and I have already compiled a significant amount of research... we’ve been able to map out the repository’s magical framework and identify some of its vulnerabilities. I can provide all of that to you.”

Cassian nodded, approval lacing his tone. “Brilliant. That will give us a head start.”

Benedict’s faint smirk returned. “Once we have your work, I’ll start cross-referencing it with our texts immediately and share anything we find.“

Evangeline’s fingers toyed with the hem of her sleeve, her hazel eyes distant for a moment before she met his gaze. “Thank you,” she said quietly. “All of you.”

Cassian’s expression softened further. “You don’t need to thank us. We’re family.”

The word lingered in the air, carrying a weight that Evangeline wasn’t sure how to respond to. But the Muldoons didn’t press her, and Sebastian reached over, his hand brushing hers in a quiet gesture of support.

“We’ll make sure the repository is sealed for good,” He murmured.

After a moment, Percival spoke, his tone lighter. “Well, it seems we have much to investigate. But before we lose ourselves in research, I believe there was talk of a Dragon incident? Sebastian?”

Sebastian’s grin widened. “Oh, you’ll love this one. Imagine this: the three of us wandering around the highlands, trying to retrieve a dragon egg from a poacher’s camp—”

Evangeline groaned, interrupting him. “You’re making it sound like we had any idea what we were doing. We didn’t.”

“And we nearly got scorched alive,” Ominis added, his tone dry. “But please, Sebastian, continue exaggerating.”

The Muldoons leaned forward, intrigued and thoroughly entertained, as Sebastian recounted their misadventure. Laughter filled the room, lightening the mood as they shared tales of near-misses and chaotic victories. Evangeline and Ominis took turns correcting Sebastian’s embellishments, much to the Muldoons’ amusement.

By the time dinner was announced, a meal lovingly prepared by Astrid and Anja, the group transitioned to the dining room, where the lavish spread awaited. Conversation flowed easily over the meal, shifting between playful teasing and more serious discussions from Hogwarts to ancient magic to Evangeline's many fifth-year escapades.

As the evening wound down, the Muldoons began to take their leave, each pulling Evangeline into a tight hug. Cassian was the last to Disapparate, pausing briefly to clasp Evangeline’s shoulder. “We’ll be in touch soon, dear niece.”

“Thank you,” Evangeline said quietly. “For everything.”

With a nod, her uncle vanished with a crack, leaving the room quieter but still filled with the warmth of the evening.

Anne stretched, looking toward Ominis fondly. “We should probably head out too.”

“To which apartment?” Sebastian asked with a laugh. “When you think about it, doesn’t it seem like we’ve got it all backwards?”

Anne raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Sebastian began, glancing at Ominis before turning to Evangeline and Anne, “you two share an apartment, and Ominis and I share one. But considering how much time we spend at each other’s flats anyway…”

Evangeline caught on quickly, her hazel eyes narrowing. “Are you suggesting we swap roommates?”

“It makes sense,” Sebastian said with a shrug. “I mean for Merlin’s sake, Anne and Ominis are engaged!”

Anne tilted her head, considering. “You’ve got a point. It’s been feeling a bit silly lately, with Ominis and me constantly running back and forth.”

Ominis nodded, his expression thoughtful. “It's such an obvious solution, I’m almost annoyed we didn’t think of it sooner.”

Evangeline nodded slowly. “All right… but who’s swapping?”

Sebastian leaned forward, his grin widening. “Personally, I quite like your place, Evie, so I’m happy to swap with Anne—if she doesn’t mind the increased rent at mine.”

Anne waved a dismissive hand. “I don’t mind at all. Besides, your place is closer to St. Mungo’s and that’s a win for me.”

“Perfect,” Sebastian said, looking pleased. “Sorted.”

Anne laughed, shaking her head. “Well, that was easy. Let’s just hope the packing goes as smoothly.”

“Somehow, I doubt that,” Ominis said dryly, his lips quirking into a smile.

The four exchanged goodbyes, but not before Anne enveloped Evangeline in a tight hug, her smile warm and full of relief. “I’m so glad you’re awake and feeling better,” Anne said, pulling back just enough to look Evangeline in the eye. “You scared us, you know.”

Evangeline returned the hug, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I’m sorry for worrying you all. It wasn’t exactly part of the plan.”

“Well, you’re not getting away with scaring me again,” Anne teased, giving her a playful nudge. “And now that you’re on the mend, you won’t be able to avoid me roping you into helping with my engagement party planning. Consider yourself warned.”

Evangeline laughed softly. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Ominis stepped forward next, his expression uncharacteristically tender. “It’s good to see you up and about again,” he said, his voice sincere. “You’ve been through so much. We’ve all been worried, but Anne’s right—it’s a relief to have you back.”

Before Evangeline could respond, Ominis surprised her by pulling her into a brief, gentle hug. “Take care of yourself, Evangeline,” he added, stepping back and offering her a small, rare smile.

“I will,” she promised, touched by his kindness.

With that, Anne and Ominis Disapparated, leaving the front room quiet except for the soft crackling of the hearth. Evangeline lingered in the stillness, her gaze shifting to Sebastian, who stood nearby with a faint, thoughtful smile playing on his lips.

Her hazel eyes met his, and after a brief pause, she reached out, gently tugging his hand. The touch seemed to pull him from his reverie, his grin faltering just slightly as he stepped closer. Evangeline’s expression was shy, her fingers curling lightly around his

“So,” she began, tilting her head to meet his gaze, “…are you sure you want to move in together?”

His brow furrowed, a flicker of hesitation crossing his face. “I mean, we don’t have to,” he said quickly, backpedaling. “If you’re not ready… I wasn’t trying to decide for you or anything. It’s just—I thought it made sense, but I don’t want to—”

“Sebastian.” She shook her head, cutting him off softly. Her cheeks flushed, and she glanced down for a moment before meeting his eyes again. “Of course I want to. It’s just… we’ve hardly been courting for more than a few weeks, and I—” She hesitated, her voice dropping. “I just want you to be sure.”

Sebastian blinked at her then scoffed, though his voice was warm. “Evie, come on,” he said, rolling his eyes, “we’ve been each other’s for years. We were just too bloody stubborn to admit it. And let’s be honest—how is this any different from what we’ve already been doing? We practically live at each other’s flats when we aren’t at our own, and half our stuff is in each other’s bedrooms. Not to mention we’ve spent every holiday together. And I mean, think of all the time you’ve stayed over in Feldcroft. This? Moving in together? It’s really not new—it’s just official.”

Evangeline opened her mouth to respond but faltered, the weight of his words sinking in. She couldn’t argue with him. He was right. Their lives had already been so intertwined for so long. But before she could form a proper response, Sebastian’s grin turned softer, more thoughtful, as if a new thought had struck him.

“You know… maybe we’re overthinking this whole London flat situation.”

She tilted her head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“…Do we really need one?” Sebastian asked. “Think about it. What’s keeping us in London? Anne and Ominis? They’re just a Floo away. And Feldcroft…” He paused, his gaze steady as it met hers. “Feldcroft is home. For both of us. You said it yourself, last year.”

Evangeline’s breath hitched, his words tugging at memories she hadn’t let herself dwell on in what felt like forever. But she could see it now, that quiet evening in the summer before their final year at Hogwarts, when she’d sat across from him at the table behind the cottage and finally admitted what this place meant to her.

It’s like coming home.

She hadn’t thought much about what those words had meant to him at the time, but now, staring into his eyes, she understood.

In them, she saw everything: the laughter that had filled the quiet corners of the Undercroft, the heated arguments that had tested their bond, the whispered conversations that had soothed old wounds. Every moment they’d shared seemed etched into those warm brown depths. She saw the boy who had been her fiercest ally through triumphs and tragedies alike, and the man who stood before her now, steady and unyielding, reminding her with his every word and look that wherever he was, she’d always have a place to belong.

There was no hesitation in his gaze, no room for doubt. Just him, looking at her like she was the answer to a question he’d carried his whole life—like she was it.

The realization unraveled something deep inside her, loosening the tightly held threads of uncertainty. Slowly, unbidden, she began to picture it—them.

Quiet mornings in Feldcroft, sunlight filtering through the curtains as they shared lazy cups of tea. Afternoons by the fire, his laughter filling the small cottage as he beat her, for the thousandth time, in chess. The simple joy of tending the garden together, their hands brushing as they worked side by side, exchanging smiles over blooming flowers and stubborn weeds.

She pictured their lives woven into the fabric of the cottage. Books stacked haphazardly in the sitting room, her favorite blanket draped over the worn armchair by the fire, his broom propped up in the corner next to hers. She imagined the way their days would unfold—Flooing to work together in the mornings, walking through the fields hand in hand in the evenings, their laughter carrying on the breeze. Christmases spent in Feldcroft, snow dusting the roof, the scent of pine and baking filling the air as they decorated a tree together.

And then, unbidden, the image grew.

One day, she would carry his children. She saw it so clearly—Sebastian fretting over her, trying to mask his nerves with playful teasing as he spoiled her endlessly. Their home magically expanding to accommodate their growing family, the familiar walls reshaping to welcome a new chapter of their lives.

She saw tiny boots lined up beside the door, a wooden toy broomstick leaning haphazardly against the wall. She imagined the sound of laughter—higher, lighter—filling the cottage, the pitter-patter of small feet running through the rooms.

She pictured children with his unruly dark hair and her hazel eyes, their voices calling out in excitement, the warmth of Sebastian’s grin as he lifted their little ones into his arms. She imagined them all them curled up together on the sofa in the glow of the fire, the kind of happiness that felt almost too big to contain.

Her heart ached with the beauty of it, the weight of the life she could see so clearly in her mind. A life that wasn’t just a dream—it was possible. All of it: the mornings, the evenings, the quiet joy of just being together. The shared laughter, the whispered promises, the future they could together.

Sebastian seemed to sense her shift in thought, his thumb brushing gently over her cheek. “What do you think?”

Evangeline blinked, her eyes meeting his. Her heart was pounding, but there was no hesitation in her voice as she finally answered. “I think it sounds perfect.”

Sebastian’s smile softened, his thumb brushing over her skin with a tenderness that made her heart ache. Slowly, he leaned in, his forehead resting against hers. “Perfect,” he murmured. “Just like you.”

Evangeline’s breath caught, and before she could respond, he kissed her. The warmth of it was immediate, soft but insistent.

She melted into him, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as she rose onto her toes to meet him. The world around them seemed to dissolve, leaving only the heat between them, the way his hands slipped down to her waist, pulling her closer.

Before she realized what was happening, Sebastian lifted her effortlessly, his arms strong and sure as he carried her toward the couch. Evangeline let out a soft laugh against his lips, her arms looping around his neck. “What are you doing?” she murmured, though her smile betrayed her amusement.

“Getting comfortable,” he replied, his grin returning as he gently set her down on the couch and settled over her. His lips found hers again, moving slower this time, savoring the moment as Evangeline’s fingers slipped into his hair. She tugged lightly, drawing a soft, almost desperate sound from him that sent a thrill through her, her mind spinning with thoughts of everything and nothing all at once.

But then Sebastian froze, his lips pausing against hers as his gaze flicked over her shoulder.

“What is it?” she whispered, her voice still breathless from the kiss.

He didn’t answer immediately, his eyes fixed on something behind her. Finally, he leaned back slightly, one hand still resting on her hip, and nodded toward the mantle.

“Your hourglass,” he said softly.

Evangeline turned, her gaze following his, and there it was: the sapphire hourglass he had won for her at the charity auction. The enchanted sand inside, which usually flowed steadily, had frozen in place, its shimmering grains suspended mid-descent.

Her breath caught. “It froze.”

They sat there for a moment, the weight of what it meant settling over them. It felt like the universe itself had paused to acknowledge the moment, to affirm the choice they’d made.

Evangeline turned back to him, her voice soft but steady. “I guess that settles it, then. I better write a letter to my landlord and cancel my lease.”

Sebastian’s grin widened, his eyes sparkling as he pulled her closer, his lips brushing against hers. “Yeah,” he murmured. “You better.”

His lips were gentle at first, but the kiss quickly grew more insistent, more desperate. Evangeline sighed into him, her hands slipping up his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath her palms.

His body responded to her touch, a low groan rumbling in his chest as she pressed closer. His hands roamed over her back, steady and firm, as though anchoring her to him. The heat between them was palpable, igniting with every kiss, every touch.

As her fingers traveled to his shoulders and then down to the defined lines of his stomach, Sebastian broke the kiss long enough to mutter, "You know... I think it's about time I cashed in all those rewards I earned breaking into your family’s manor."

Evangeline pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, her hazel eyes narrowed in mock irritation. "Sebastian," she said, her breath catching as he grinned against her neck, "Shut up."

He laughed softly, the sound muffled as his lips returned to hers. "Just saying," he mumbled before capturing her mouth again.

Evangeline’s response was immediate, her hands roamed lower, exploring his body with a hunger she could no longer hide. The tension between them mounted, their longing bubbling over as their movements grew frantic.

She pressed closer, and that's when she felt it—him. The unmistakable hardness of him pressing against her thigh, sending a jolt of heat through her own body.

Sebastian hissed as she shifted, her hips brushing against him, her own arousal becoming impossible to ignore. His hands tightened on her waist, pulling her flush against him as his lips trailed down her jaw to her neck. "Shit," he groaned, his voice hoarse with need.

Sebastian’s lips returned to hers, their kisses deepening as their movements became more frenzied, driven by increasing desperation.

His hands slipped under her shirt, the rough pads of his fingers pressing against the soft skin of her waist. His touch was hot and deliberate, sending a heat down her spine as he slid the fabric upward.

Evangeline helped him tug her shirt off, and he tossed it aside without a second thought, his hands immediately returning to her body, roaming over her sides and waist.

“God, Evie,” he murmured against her lips, his voice rough. His hands explored every curve, pressing into the soft flesh, savoring the feel of her beneath him. When his hands moved upward, cupping her breasts over her bra, he stilled for a moment, as though struck by just how much of her there was to touch.

Her breasts spilled past his hands, full and heavy in his grip, and the sight alone made his breath hitch. He groaned softly against her lips as he kneaded her, his arousal pressing harder against her through his trousers.

“You’re—” he broke the kiss for a moment, his forehead pressed against hers as he tried to catch his breath. His hands squeezed her gently, spreading over the expanse of her. “Fuck. You’re perfect.”

Her cheeks burned as his lips found hers again, hungry and desperate, his hands never ceasing their exploration, every touch making her heart race faster.

Evangeline’s own hands slid down to the hem of his shirt, and she tugged at it impatiently, her fingers brushing against his toned stomach as she pulled it over his head. The moment it was gone, she wasted no time in running her hands over him, her touch as greedy and desperate as his had been.

Sebastian groaned and shifted his hips against her, pressing his length against her stomach and drawing a soft, breathless moan from her lips that sent his pulse racing.

He leaned down to kiss her neck, his hands returning to her body, holding her in place. She arched into him, her head tipping back to give him better access as his lips traveled lower, nipping and sucking at her skin. The ache between her legs was becoming unbearable, and the heat pooling there made her breath catch with every press of his hips against hers. Her body moved instinctively, tilting her pelvis up to meet him, drawing a low, guttural sound from Sebastian that vibrated against her throat.

His lips continued their descent, trailing kisses down her collarbone, his hands kneading her soft skin as though trying to memorize every curve. When his mouth finally found her breast, he paused, his lips brushing against her skin as his gaze flicked up to meet hers.

He reached behind her back, fingers deftly unhooking the clasp of her bra. The straps fell loose, sliding down her shoulders, and he tugged it away gently, tossing it aside. His hands returned to her immediately, pressing into the soft flesh of her hips as his lips descended, his mouth closing over one of her nipples. His tongue flicked across her sensitive skin, and she gasped, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Sebastian,” she whimpered, her voice trembling as her nails scraped lightly down his back, urging him on.

He groaned softly, his lips releasing her nipple to trail kisses across her chest. “What is it, love?”

She hesitated, her breath catching as her gaze darted away, the words catching in her throat. “I… I want you,” she finally whispered, her cheeks burning as she felt the weight of her own confession. “I know we’re not… we’re not married, and I know we’re not supposed to—”

Sebastian froze, his hands tightening on her hips as his gaze darkened. For a moment, the only sound in the room was their heavy breathing, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Slowly, he leaned back just enough to look her in the eye, his voice dropping even lower. “Say it again,” he rasped. “Tell me exactly what you want.”

Her lips parted, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. She tried to look away again, but his hands moved to cradle her face, gently forcing her gaze back to his.

“I want you to take me, Sebastian,” she whispered, her voice quaking but sure. “To make me yours. Completely.”

Sebastian let out a low moan, his head falling forward until his forehead rested against hers. “Fuck,” he murmured, his hands flexing on her hips. “Evangeline, I don’t give a damn if we’re not married. I want you. For the rest of my life. I’d marry you tomorrow—hell, I’d marry you right now if you’d let me.”

Her breath hitched at the sincerity in his voice, her eyes searching his as he continued.

“I want to take you,” he said, his tone rough with need. “Make you mine, and only mine. Forever.” His hand slid up to cradle her face, his thumb brushing against her swollen lips. “I want to watch you fall apart with me inside you, knowing no one else will ever have you”

Evangeline clung to him, her nails digging into his skin as her own restraint began to crumble. “Sebastian…”

“Say yes,” he murmured, his voice a husky plea. “Say you’re mine, Evangeline. And I’ll take you right now.”

“Yes,” Evangeline whispered, her voice trembling but full of certainty. “I’m yours.”

She barely finished the sentence before Sebastian moved, his arms slipping beneath her to lift her from the couch. His lips were on hers in an instant, urgent and desperate as he carried her toward the bedroom.

Moving down the hallway, Sebastian shouldered the door open without breaking away, his grip on her tightening as he crossed the threshold. He set her down on the bed, his body following hers as he moved over her, the weight of him pressing her into the mattress.

“My god, Evie,” he murmured between kisses, his hands roaming her body with a reverence that made her heart race. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you.”

“I think,” she murmured against his lips with a smile. “I do.”

A groan rumbled in his chest, his hands slipping lower and working to ease her pants down her hips. Evangeline’s body flushed with heat, her skin sensitive to every brush of his fingers.

Sebastian shifted above her, his hands slowing their movements as he eased the fabric down her legs, discarding them swiftly. His lips trailed back up her thigh, pausing to press a tender kiss to her hip before his darkened gaze flicked up to meet hers.

"Evie," he murmured softly, his voice thick with emotion, "if anything doesn't feel right—if this feels like too much—just tell me. We'll stop."

"I will," she whispered, her voice trembling slightly but steady. "I promise."

Sebastian's lips curved into a faint, reassuring smile as he leaned forward to kiss her again, slow and deliberate.

She felt the heat of his hands everywhere, igniting her nerves and leaving her breathless. The weight of him above her, the way the hard edges of his body pressed against the soft curves of hers, overwhelmed her senses. Somewhere in the back of her mind, her insecurities flickered—about her size and her plushness. But the way Sebastian touched her, his hands gliding over her as though she were a masterpiece, made those thoughts seem distant and unimportant.

Her own hands, trembling but eager, moved to the waistband of Sebastian’s trousers. Taking a steadying breath, she worked the fabric down, her fingers brushing against the firm, heated skin of his hips. He lifted himself slightly to help her, his hands covering hers briefly as she slid the fabric past his thighs.

The soft rustle of his pants hitting the floor seemed deafening in the quiet room, and for a moment, all she could do was stare.

Sebastian straddled her, his body broad and powerful, his bare, freckled skin kissed by the dim light. He was left in nothing but his underwear, the thin fabric doing little to hide the hard, unmistakable evidence of his arousal.

Evangeline’s mind whirled. They had never crossed this line before, this last remaining barrier of his decency, and now here he was, so vulnerable, so real, and she was about to see him, all of him.

And, fuck, the size of him...

The obvious strain of his length against the fabric, the way it pressed and promised how much there was of him, sent a shock of heat coursing through her, her thoughts scattering like leaves in the wind.

Above her, Sebastian’s dark eyes burned with want, his hands twitching as though resisting the urge to touch her again.

"Evie," he murmured, his voice thick and hoarse. "You don't have to look so nervous. It's just me."

“I know, it’s just I’ve… I’ve never seen you like this before,” she stammered, her voice trembling as her hands fidgeted against the sheets.

Sebastian’s expression softened, a small, reassuring smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I know,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “And that’s okay. It’s just me. Just us.”

Evangeline swallowed hard, willing her body to relax beneath him, her hands finding their way to his chest.

Sebastian leaned against her touch, his forehead pressing gently against hers as he let out a soft, shuddering breath. “We’ll take this as slow as you need,” he murmured, his voice breaking slightly with emotion. “I’ll take care of you, I promise.”

Evangeline nodded, murmuring an “okay” as her hands slid lower, her trembling fingers brushing against the waistband of his underwear. The weight of the moment pressed down on her, but this was Sebastian—her Sebastian—and she wanted this, wanted him.

With a deep breath, she tugged at the fabric, her cheeks flushing as he helped her ease it down his hips. When the garment joined the rest of their discarded clothes on the floor, leaving him bare before her, Evangeline’s breath caught in her throat.

He was... impressive. More than she’d imagined, even in her darkest fantasies.

The smooth, flushed skin of his cock contrasted against the dark trail of hair leading down from his abdomen. His length, thick and substantial, stood and proud against the hard lines of his stomach, the flushed head glistening faintly in the dim light of the room and betraying the depth of his own want.

She couldn't stop herself from staring, her mind momentarily overwhelmed by the sheer reality of it. Her thoughts tumbled over one another, both nervous and awestruck. How is this going to fit?

Above her, Sebastian shifted slightly, his hand brushing against her cheek and gently drawing her gaze back up to his face.

“You okay?” He asked, the desire in dark eyes briefly tempered by concern.

Evangeline flushed deeply, heat rushing to her cheeks as she let out a shaky laugh, her hand coming up to cover her face. "I'm fine," she murmured, her voice muffled behind her fingers. "Just... overwhelmed."

Sebastian stilled, his dark eyes searching her face intently. For all his usual confidence, there was a flicker of hesitation in his expression, as though her response had cracked through his composure.

"…Good overwhelmed?" he asked softly.

Evangeline froze, blinking up at him in disbelief before letting out a breathless, incredulous laugh. Her hand dropped from her face as she stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Sebastian," she said, her tone somewhere between exasperated and amused, "have you seen yourself? Of course it’s good. It’s better than good.”

The corners of his lips twitched, and then he barked out a laugh, the tension in the air breaking momentarily. “Well, yes, I’ve seen my own cock,” he murmured, his grin returning, though a faint blush dusted his cheekbones. “But you were staring like I’d grown a second head, so I had to ask.”

“I mean, you do have a second head.” Evangeline countered, purposely flicking her gaze back toward his arousal, the flush on her cheeks deepening but unable to resist the playful retort. "And frankly, it's kind of intimidating."

Sebastian groaned, running a hand down his face, though his grin widened despite himself. "If I survive this night with my sanity intact, it'll be a miracle," he murmured, his voice warm.

Evangeline smiled despite the nervous flutter in her chest, her fingers brushing lightly over his chest. "I thought you liked me driving you mad," she quipped, her voice soft but steady.

Sebastian's lips trailed down her jaw, soft and deliberate, before he murmured against her skin, "I absolutely do.”

Evangeline gasped softly as his hands slid lower, his fingers brushing against her thighs. He shifted slightly, his touch firm but careful, guiding her legs apart to make room for him. The weight of his body settled between her thighs, warm and solid.

Sebastian's hand trailed lower still, fingertips gentle against the soft skin of her inner thigh before they moved to her center. His touch was almost tentative, and when his fingers swiped over her slick folds, he froze for a moment, a low, strangled sigh escaping his lips.

"Fuck," he murmured, his voice rough, "you're so wet for me."

Evangeline flushed deeply, bashfulness mingling with the overwhelming heat coursing through her as her body arched instinctively into his long fingers.

Spurred on by her reaction, Sebastian positioned himself above her, his dark eyes locking onto hers. “This... it might hurt," he said softly. “If it’s too much, tell me. We'll stop, okay?"

Evangeline nodded, her hands sliding up his arms to grip his shoulders. "Okay.”

His breath shuddered, and he leaned down to kiss her, soft but insistent. "I love you," he murmured against her lips, as his hand, slick with her arousal, guided himself to her entrance.

"I love you too," she whispered back.

Inhaling deeply, Sebastian pressed forward slowly. The initial stretch as he pushed inside made Evangeline gasp, her nails digging crescent moons into his shoulders as her body adjusted to the sensation.

He froze immediately, his gaze dropping to hers as he whispered, "Are you okay? Do you need me to stop?"

Evangeline shook her head quickly, her breath shallow but steady. "No," she said softly, her voice breaking slightly. "Just... slow."

Sebastian let out a shaky breath, his body taut with restraint. “Slow," he repeated, his voice both a promise and a reassurance.

His hands moved to cradle her waist, his fingers brushing gently over her skin as if to soothe her, even as his muscles trembled with the effort of holding back as he eased himself inside her.

Evangeline eyes fluttering closed. The feeling of him was overwhelming, a sharp, unfamiliar pressure that made her heart race. But the way he filled her, the heat of his body pressed so intimately against hers—it was heady and delicious, her toes curling with pleasure.

“Keep going," she whispered, her voice trembling as her hands slid from his shoulders to the back of his neck, pulling him closer.

Sebastian groaned softly at her words, his restraint slipping just enough to let him shift his hips slightly, easing forward another inch.

“You feel... fuck, Evie," he rasped, his voice low and hoarse as he continued to move with slow, deliberate care. "You're perfect. You feel so fucking perfect."

Evangeline's breath hitched, the sheer fullness of him stealing the air from her lungs. Each slow push brought a new wave of sensation, her body adjusting to him with every careful movement and filling her with a growing heat that made her thighs tremble.

"Sebastian," she breathed, her voice catching on a soft moan as he sank deeper. "Oh my god, you feel so good."

Sebastian’s breath shuddered again, and his control faltering, his hips pressing forward fully. He froze there, his chest heaving as he buried himself inside her.

"Evie, you're so tight," he ground out, his voice hoarse and uneven, air escaping in sharp bursts. "I—I don't want to hurt you."

"You're not," she breathed unsteadily, her nails scraping lightly down his back as her legs wrapped around his hips to hold him in place. "You feel so good Sebastian, please, don't stop."

Her plea unraveled him, and he began to move again, his lips brushing against her neck as his hips experimentally rolled against hers, the movement fueled by a growing desperation he couldn’t entirely suppress.

Evangeline’s breath came in shallow gasps, her body responding instinctively to his movements, her hips lifting to meet his as her fingers tangled in his hair, soft moans escaping her lips. “Sebastian,” she breathed, his name a plea and a prayer all at once.

He cursed under his breath, the sound vibrating against her skin as his lips found her collarbone. His hands gripped her thighs, guiding her to meet him, finding a rhythm that sent sparks of pleasure shooting through them both.

“God, you feel incredible,” he murmured against her skin, his voice breaking with each thrust. “So perfect. So mine.”

Evangeline's breath hitched, her nails dragging lightly down his back as her legs tightened around his waist. "All yours," she whispered.

The tension in Evangeline’s core coiled tighter, the sensation of him moving within her building to an unbearable heat. Her breath came in short gasps, and before she could think twice, she whispered.

“Faster, Sebastian, please—”

He groaned against her neck, his hips snapping forward with more urgency as he obeyed her plea.

"Evie," he rasped, his voice breaking as his lips found hers again. The kiss was wild, messy, filled with the same desperation that coursed through his movements. His hands roamed her body, consuming every curve, every shiver, as his hips snapped insistently against hers.

Evangeline's head tipped back against the pillows, her moans growing louder as the intensity built. The friction, the heat—it was overwhelming, consuming, and yet she never wanted it to stop. “Fuck,” she gasped as the tension continued to build. "Don't stop, Oh my god. Please, don't stop."

Sebastian maintained pace despite his movements growing less fluid, his restraint slipping further with each thrust. His breaths came in ragged bursts, hot against her neck, as he felt her tightening around him.

Evangeline's breath caught, the tension in her core reaching its breaking point. "Sebastian," she gasped, her voice cracking as her body arched into his. "Oh, I'm—"

The words dissolved into a cry as the coil inside her snapped, pleasure crashing through her in waves so powerful it left her trembling and jerking beneath him. Her thighs quivered against his hips, her nails raking down his back as she clung to him, her body shuddering with the force of her orgasm.

Sebastian stilled for a heartbeat, his hands gripping her hips as he groaned, the sight and feel of her falling apart beneath him sending him dangerously close to the edge. "Evie," he rasped as he chased his own release. "Where... where do you want me?"

Her eyes fluttered open, dazed and heavy-lidded as she pulled him closer, her voice a breathless whisper. "Inside," she murmured, her voice trembling. "I want you inside."

Sebastian groaned, the last vestiges of his restraint slipping away.

With a shuddering gasp, he drove into her one final time, burying himself to the hilt as his orgasm crashed over him and spilled into her in hot, steady waves.

"Fuck," he gasped, his voice hoarse and thick. "Evie, you— God, you feel—" The words broke off as his hand, instinctively, moved to rest against her soft stomach.

His fingers splayed over the curve of her, pressing insistently as his body trembled, a moan tearing from his throat as he felt the fullness of himself within her.

"You're mine," he rasped between desperate thrusts. "I've made you mine, Evie. Completely. Do you feel that? No one else, no one, will ever have you like this."

Evangeline couldn't even summon the words to reply, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as her body hummed with the aftershocks of her high. Her mind was hazy, overwhelmed and awestruck, but she managed a small, trembling nod, her hand coming up weakly to cover his.

Sebastian hummed with satisfaction, the sound low and deep in his chest as he hovered above her, his body trembling from the intensity of his climax. His breaths were ragged, and every muscle ached with exhaustion, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away just yet. He stayed there, savoring the feel of her, the warmth of her body, the way she fit so perfectly against him, as though he could freeze this moment in time.

But as much as he wanted to stay like this forever, the strain on his trembling arms grew unbearable. With a deep, shuddering breath, he reluctantly pulled out, the motion drawing a soft gasp from her lips.

The loss of him left her feeling suddenly, achingly empty, and he groaned quietly, his own dissatisfaction with the separation evident.

Still, he didn't move far. He collapsed onto the bed beside her, his hand remaining firmly in place on her stomach, his fingers pressing into the plush curve as though he couldn't bear to let go.

For a long while, neither of them spoke, the room filled only with the sound of their mingled breaths as they lay together, their bodies slick with sweat and trembling.

Evangeline shifted slightly, turning her head to look at him, her hazel eyes heavy-lidded but soft with affection. Sebastian met her gaze, his own eyes filled with a quiet intensity.

Her hand slid over his to rest against her stomach. "I think you've made your point," she murmured softly, her voice hoarse but teasing.

Sebastian's lips curved into a smirk, his fingers tightening briefly against her skin.

“I don't think I have," he murmured, his fingers flexing gently against her stomach, a deliberate reminder of everything they had just shared. "I don't think I'll ever be done making it."

Evangeline’s cheeks deepened in color, and she let out a soft huff, her hand squeezing his. "You really don't let up, do you?"

"Not when it comes to you, no,” he said, his tone shifting to something more serious, a depth in his voice that she couldn’t ignore. His thumb brushed slow, lazy circles against her skin, grounding her even as her heart began to race. "I need you to know, Evie. To feel it. There's no one else for me. There never has been."

Evangeline stilled, the air between them thick with the weight of his words. Her breath hitched, caught somewhere between her chest and her lips as his confession sank in. Her mind raced, spiraling through a thousand memories—years of stolen glances that lingered too long, of hands brushing but never quite holding, of arguments born of jealousy and words left unsaid. Every moment of waiting, every ache of longing and uncertainty, had brought them here.

Here, in this quiet, shared space that wasn’t just his cottage anymore. It was something more—it was their home. Theirs.

The realization settled over her like a warm, unshakable weight, steadying her even as it threatened to overwhelm her. She looked at him, really looked at him, and saw not just the friend who had once made her laugh in the Undercroft or stood by her side through their darkest days. He wasn’t just the boy who had been her partner in crime, her fiercest defender, her most maddening rival.

He was the man who had held her when she was too broken to hold herself together, the one who saw through her walls and stubbornness to the heart of her. The man who had carried the weight of his own burdens yet never hesitated to shoulder hers. The man who knew her better than anyone—better, at times, than she knew herself.

He was the constant in her life, the one who challenged her to be better, who made her feel braver, stronger, and more whole simply by being near. He was her safe place, her sanctuary, her compass when the world tilted off balance. The man who had waited patiently for her to realize what had been true all along—that she didn’t just fit into his life. She was it for him. Inseparable, inevitable, undeniable.

“You were serious,” she murmured, her hazel eyes locking onto his. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. An unshakable truth. “You would marry me. Tomorrow.”

Sebastian nodded, his dark eyes searching hers. “Yes,” he said simply, his voice steady and filled with quiet conviction. “I would.”

Her breath hitched, her heart thundering in her chest. She searched his face, studying every familiar line, every freckle scattered across his skin, as though she were memorizing him all over again. After so much time—so much waiting, so many near misses—he was hers. Completely, unreservedly hers. And she was his.

The weight of it settled over her, not as a burden, but as a kind of profound peace. For the first time, the world didn’t feel uncertain. It felt solid, secure. Him. Always him.

For a long moment, she said nothing, her thoughts swirling in a quiet storm of emotion. Then, finally, she took a deep, steadying breath. “Can we?” she asked, her tone soft but resolute, her voice trembling with both hope and certainty.

Sebastian stilled, his body tensing slightly against hers. He pulled back just enough to fully see her face, his hand moving to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly against the flush of her skin.

“Evangeline…” he murmured, his voice hoarse and raw, as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“I mean it,” she insisted, her words quiet but firm, her gaze unwavering. “I don’t need anything else. I don’t need a big ceremony or fancy promises. I just need you. I don’t want to wait anymore, Sebastian. Haven’t we waited long enough?”

Her words seemed to break something in him. His breath left him in a shaky exhale, his face softening as an unguarded, almost disbelieving smile spread across his lips. “We can,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “Evangeline, I’d marry you this second. I’d vow myself to you with nothing but the stars as our witnesses, if it meant you’d be mine forever.”

She laughed softly, her tears spilling over as his words wrapped around her like a warm embrace. “I’ve been yours forever,” she whispered.

He held her gaze, then slowly lifted his hand, offering her his pinky with a crooked grin. “Then it’s done,” he said, his voice soft and playful now, as though sealing a sacred promise. "We'll marry tomorrow."

A watery laugh bubbled up from her chest as she slipped her smaller pinky around his, giving it a gentle squeeze as she leaned in, pressing her lips to his. The kiss was slow and deep, filled with every promise and every hope between them. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t hurried—it was infinite, timeless, filled with the weight of every shared memory and every dream for their future.

There was no weight of the past to drag them down—no lingering regrets, no unanswered questions, no second-guessing, no hesitation, no "what ifs" gnawing at the edges of their happiness. The doubts and fears that had once kept them apart had dissolved, leaving behind only the clarity of what they both wanted, of what they both knew to be true.

Their future wasn’t something they needed to chase—it was theirs, utterly, completely, and irrevocably. It wasn’t a distant dream, forever just out of reach, nor a fragile hope teetering under the weight of uncertainty. It was here, now, as real and undeniable as the feeling of his finger curled securely around hers, as steady and sure as the press of his lips against hers. In that moment, there was no doubt, no hesitation—only the quiet, unshakable certainty of a love that had always been destined to find its way home.

The end.

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[the-samsquantch]

Elf Sandwhich

Summary:

After coming to a dead end on their quest to find Astarion a way to walk in the sun, June and him stop by Reithwin for a moment of rest and to see an old friend. They don't get any rest.

Word count: 5,997

Astarion x named Tav x Halsin

tags/cw: Smut, threesome, cock warming, scent kink, breeding kink if you squint, spawn Astarion, soft dom Astarion, soft Halsin, soft Tav, PIV sex, cunnilingus, multiple orgams, multiple sex positions, cuckolding, masturbation, teasing, porn with feelings, anal, double penetration, praise kink

AN: This is one of the filthiest things I've ever written, and ngl I'm quite proud of it. Enjoy sluts <3.

Read on Ao3 here

Astarion let out a long, whiny groan as him and June trudged up the dirt road toward Reithwin.

They'd been travelling for some time in search for the ring of the sunwalker, and now the two of them were looking for a moment of reprieve after a lead turned out to be a dead end.

"You know whining isn't going to make us get there any faster" June chimed. Despite the fact that their latest search turned out to be a wild goose chase, she was still in fairly high spirits. Likely due to the prospect of seeing an old friend.

"Not to mention you were the one that insisted we travelled on foot when I suggested we go get horses for the journey" she offered the spawn a teasing smile. 

The spawn scoffed and rolled his eyes. "They're moody, unpredictable beasts that are prone to biting". Astarion scrunched his face up in distaste at the thought of such creatures.

"Attitude?! Darling, I'm perfectly amicable with most beasts, it's just that they don't listen to me!" Besides, weren't horses and dogs bred to listen to the commands of their master?

Juniper couldn't help but let out a laugh at the statement. "You give animals attitude because you expect them to yield to you Astarion, remember how Scratch used to ignore you when you tried to get him to play fetch?".

It was little moments like this that made all the searching worth it.

The cleric's bell-like laughter filled the night air, with her doing her very best not to bruise the vampire's ego too much.

"Whatever helps, Astarion".

It didn't take them much longer to arrive to the little town. Even under the cover of night, one could see the healing the land had undergone in such a short amount of time.

No longer was the sky eclipsed in a shroud of deep impenetrable darkness, rather there was the blanket of silver stars that shone brightly against the night sky.

June couldn't help but smile softly at the sight of it all.

There was the soft sway of tree branches, their leaves whispering their song against the wind, and the warm glow emanating from new homes and familiar buildings brought a sense that this place was safe and lived in.

Lifting the curse truly breathed new life into this place.

"Well, Halsin’s been hard at work, hasn't he?" Astarion muttered. It was certainly cozy here, if lacking a little bit of character. But seeing June light up, knowing that all the work they'd done in freeing this place of general Thorms curse paid off, it made him light up a bit too.

It wouldn't be long before the pair arrived at the Last Light inn, with the two of them arriving to their room.

The half elf didn't waste any time flopping on top of the bed, letting out a long satisfied groan. She gave her feet a few moments of rest before taking the time to undress.

Astarion watched her intently, his gaze strong and contemplative as she took the time to shed off her armor before changing into her more comfortable clothes. He'd be lying if he said that he didn't want to indulge in her, to take her and have her squirming and moaning until the sun came up.

But alas, there were some social obligations that they had to get out of the way first. And a question that'd been lingering on the tip of his tongue since they'd agreed to come to this little village.

"Are you interested in seeing Halsin at all during our stay here?" Astarion wasn't blind to their relationship, he wasn't even surprised that the druid had propositioned her during their travels.

They were practically two peas in a pod. So much so that Astarion could imagine them summoning a swath of fuzzy woodland creatures given both of their personalities. Such a thought was both tooth-achingly saccharine and hilarious at the same time for him.

June paused for a moment, letting Astarions question sink in before meeting his gaze.

"It's crossed my mind, but I wouldn't want to do anything if it upsets you" She knew that he'd been fine with them together in the past. But things could've changed between then and now.

The spawn let out a haughty little laugh at the clerics' politeness on the matter, finding it rather cute.

"Darling, we're both adults. Who would I be to deny you your fun?" The cheeky smirk that spread across the spawns face only made Junes' cheeks bloom red.

After a moment, June's expression softened, revealing a layer of attentiveness.

"Oh? Why are you embarrassed dear? I know he's crossed your mind, I can't say I blame you~" he cooed. Halsin was built like a brick house, with a voice as sweet as honey and carried a kind face, and seemed to carry all the patience in the world. It'd been no secret that many in their merry band had found him alluring.

Slowly, Astarion slinked behind her, his hands resting against her belly.

       

"You've never told me the dirty details of the night you shared~"

The red of Junes embarrassment travelled to the tips of her ears. In a flurry she turned to face him, her face burning.

"You're incorrigible!" she exclaimed. The glare and the pout she gave him was adorable, and Astarion couldn't help but feel like it was far too much fun to get a rise out of her.

"To be clear, you're fine with it?" The last thing she wanted was for him to feel as if she's only seeing Halsin due to a lack of physical intimacy, which had been far from the case.

Astarion brought his lips to hers, the kiss soft and reassuring. His forehead rested against hers as he held her flush to him.

"I'm more than fine with it my love" Their bond couldn't be broken because of one person, and at the end of the day, she'd be by his side through anything and everything that came their way, he had nothing to worry about when it came to the druid.

The pair would finish getting ready, knowing that Halsin was likely waiting for them by now.

Down in Last Light's bar, the wood elf waited patiently for the cleric and rogue. When he got the news that Astarion and June would be stopping by for a moment of rest and reprieve, he'd been elated knowing that he'd see some familiar faces.

There'd been a quiet sense of longing that'd lingered at the back of Halsin's mind. The night that he and Juniper shared together was something that he would've considered something dear and special. It'd been a moment of peace and relief among the noise and the chaos of the city.

When everything had been said and done, and they'd parted ways with June helping Astarion finding a way for him to walk in the sun, he went back to Reithwin to help Thaniel and Oliver nurture and heal the land from the shadow curse.

And yet, there'd been nights when Halsin would think of the Malusite cleric. Her bell like laughter and her soothing voice, how she embraced nature and nature embraced her. Truly, she'd been a marvel. these thoughts would lead to him indulging, if he had a moment to himself among all that'd needed to be done.

The druid snapped out of his thoughts as he spotted the cleric and rogue coming down from a set of stairs, lighting up at the sight of them, Halsin gave them a warm smile.

Of course, there was Astarion as well. The gods had beauty in mind when they made him. His silver locks resembled starlight, and there was a quick wit and a quick tongue that had made the druid chuckle more than once. And while he did remind him of a stray cat, Halsin was able to see the vulnerable and good soul that lingered underneath all those layers of protection the high elf had put up.

He'd been earnest when he mentioned to June that Astarion would be free to participate if he so wished.

"My friends! I hope your travels have been kind to you". The last time he'd seen the two of them was during Wither's anniversary banquet, and that was some time ago now.

Friendly greetings were quickly exchanged as the pair took their own seats, and the familiar feelings of fond camaraderie and endearment quickly settled over the three of them.

Though it didn't take long for Astarion to become bored.

Discussion of the health benefits of meadowsweet and feverfew was about as titillating as gossip without flavor.

       

He was more than happy to let them speak about such things of course, but if he knew that this was where the night would be going, he would've rather gone out for a hunt.

Oh this would be too good.

Astarion's eyes lingered on June for a moment before travelling to Halsin. It was clear they were both more than happy to catch up, and he had noted that the air around them seemed charged with a little bit of excitement.

That was when a devious little grin tugged at Astarions face as an idea began to spark in his mind.

"So Halsin? Have you met with anyone else while repairing Reithwin?"

June raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that her lover was up to something.

Halsin didn't think too deeply into the question. "I've been so busy tending to the town and entertaining the children with bedtime stories that I haven't had much of a chance to really see anyone, though I'll admit, no one here has caught my eye".

"Really? Nobody at all?"

The cleric couldn't help but look at Astarion with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. June was more than familiar with the tone he was using and the mischief in his eye, he was up to something.

This was already far more entertaining than talk of herbs, that much he knew for certain.

Halsin hummed for a moment, seeing through the vampire's word play. "If I'm being honest, the only people who've caught my eye here have just recently arrived".

Astarion paused for a moment. He knew that the wood elf was more than interested in June, but the wording Halsin chose brought an extra layer of interest for the spawn.

Juniper immediately felt the atmosphere between the three of them shift. Heat began to rise to her cheeks as her gaze travelled between Halsin and Astarion. The smug expression written across her lover's face only made her narrow her eyes.

What a cheeky bastard.

"I have a proposition for you then, druid." The spawn slinked over the table, his fingers lacing together as the pieces of his little plan were coming together.

"I'm well aware that you and June have a bond, you've crossed her mind more than once while we've been travelling"

June almost choked on her drink at the wood elf's suggestion. It wasn't that she was against it, but the way this conversation seemed to escalate had caught her off guard.

"Is that so?" Halsin felt a pang of warmth spread throughout his chest. In truth, she had come to him during his meditations. And while he had an idea of what Astarion was proposing, he couldn't help but feel the need to extend the invitation.

"If it's alright with the both of you, I'd be more than happy to share myself with the two of you"

Astarion paused, allowing the druid's suggestion to sink in, however, he couldn't quite find the words he needed. Was Halsin truly interested? Was it alright to even try something like this right now?

"We've discussed it in the past, and while we've gotten your consent to be together, I have brought up the possibility of your participation, if you're willing. Though you needn't do anything you wouldn't want to" After all Astarion had gone through, the last thing Halsin wanted was to push.

The druid's warm reassurances immediately snapped the pale elf out of his racing thoughts. A strange sense of relief coming over him.

It was strange to think that even now, after all the time away from his old past, being given the room to make his own choices still felt foreign from time to time.

"Astarion-" June gently took his hand, offering him a small, reassuring smile. "We wouldn't make you do anything that you wouldn't want to...But what exactly was your plan?" there was a lighthearted tone to her voice, as if she found this whole situation more amusing than anything.

With ease, Astarion managed to brush his own feelings of vulnerability aside, a smirk growing across his lips as his eyes met Junes.

The mere fact that the wood elf was interested in the both of them did excite Astarion, he couldn't deny that.

"The plan was to get a rise out of the two of you, and then have you all to myself" The spawns gaze shifted toward Halsin. "You bring a new angle into the equation"

"I'm certainly not against sharing, if that's what you two are wondering about". It seemed the most viable option as of right now anyhow.

Halsin was quick to clear his throat. "Perhaps then, we should continue this discussion in your bedroom?". The tension that'd grown between the three of them was heavy and palpable. And he had a feeling that the bar patrons could sense it too, and perhaps this conversation topic would be...Unruly for some.

Without another word, the three of them scrambled to the pairs room, the buzz of excitement lingering among them.

Quickly, there were more rules established. Astarion would participate in that he'd watch and give direction. The only one allowed to touch him would be June unless he said otherwise.

Other than that, Halsin and June were free to engage with one another unless Astarion had specific directions in mind.

"Are you nervous, my heart?" Halsin had noticed that the cleric seemed especially flustered, and the last thing he wanted was for her to be uncomfortable.

Juniper bit her lip, her violet eyes meeting his warm hazel ones.

"I'll admit that this is just...New to me"

Sex wasn't uncharted territory, as Astarion was her first, and in learning what they liked and didn't like, it was a journey of self discovery and reclamation.

This set up however, was something that was new. But she couldn't deny that she was excited about it.

June closed her eyes as she felt Halsin's warm hand cup her cheek, holding her steady as he offered her a soft expression.

"You're in the presence of those who love you, you're safe nyamelmë" those sweet reassurances sent a bolt of heat through Junes chest and core. Whatever happened, she'd be in good hands.

They started slow, with Junes' lips meeting Halsins. The druid's lips were warm, sweet and familiar. Images of the night they shared together came rushing to the front of June's mind, knowing exactly what that mouth was capable of.

Halsin was quick to melt into her touch, having longed for it for some time. Her scent of berries and lavender was enough to intoxicate him, his mind wandering images of him holding her body flush to his, tasting her sweetest nectar. He knew that he had wanted her, but he hadn't realized until now just how much he'd longed for her until now.

"Take her top off Halsin, I think she's been in her clothes for far too long"

Astarions voice cut through the growing tension, and the wood elf was quick to comply. Though unfortunately for June, Halsin's treatment of her garments were far from delicate.

With a cutting RIIIIIIP, her breasts spilled out of the front of her shirt, nipples hardening in the cool air.

The druid gave the cleric an apologetic gaze. "Forgive me, holding in my restraint is...Challenging when you're with me" the sight of her breasts certainly wasn't helping his case.

June cupped his face, giving him a sweet, needy kiss as a form of reassurance. "You've never frightened me before my sweet bear, I don't think you will now". They can always get a new shirt anyway.

"She likes having her nipples teased, especially while her neck is being tended to, why don't you get started?" As much as Astarion didn't mind their sweet interactions, he did want things to start moving along.

Druid and cleric made their way onto the bed, with Halsin's body eclipsing Junes. His hands roamed up from under her, his fingers brushing up against her nipples before pinching and teasing them. All the while Halsin's breath began to ghost across her neck as he took in her scent, his cock hardening as June began letting out soft, breathy moans.

Astarion watched intently, paying attention to how he teased their little cleric.

"How are you feeling darling? Is he up to standard~?" he cooed. From the way her cheeks flushed pink and the way her expression was bunched up in pleasure, he was having a pretty good idea on how she was feeling.

Halsin let out a low, rumbly growl as the scent of her arousal brushed up against his nose. Her scent would've been enough to send him over the edge if it weren't for Astarion maintaining direction.

"A-ah~" It was hard to keep a clear mind while Halsin continued his ministrations, but June managed to gather enough clarity. "Good~ I feel good" her core was clenching, longing for something to be inside as heat permeated her body.

A louder, blissful moan slipped past her lips as Halsin found a sensitive spot on her neck, his lips suckling along sensitive flesh while his fingers pinched her sensitive nipples.

"You can touch June, I think she's ready". Halsin wasn't the only one who could smell her growing arousal.

With a soft yelp, June felt one of his hands swiftly glide under the hem of her pants, the pads of his fingers brushing up against her clit. The friction between the fabric of her panties and his fingers sending another wave of pleasure.

The wood elf let out a low groan, feeling how wet she was through her small clothes, his cock twitching with anticipation against her lower back. He didn't need to be told to take her pants off, as he wasted no time removing them along with her panties.

"My, my, darling, look how wet you are!" The grin that tugged at the vampire's features was full of amusement. It was a marvel to see the large, dark spot that marked her panties, the way her cunt glistened with arousal only added another layer of lewdness that made Astarion's cock twitch with excitement..

"Do you like being handled by our big bear?" he teased

The blush that bloomed across June's face was adorable, as the pout she made was a mix of embarrassment and arousal. "H-His hands! S-so warm! So big!"

There was a level of care and love to each of his caresses, and the way his fingers worked along her clit was sending her over the edge.

A blissful squeal cut through the bedroom as the druid's fingers dipped inside her, exploring her warm walls. Pumping them slowly in and out of her while Halsin continued to work her neck.

The half elf began working her hips, desperately chasing after her orgasm.

"Stop what you're doing" Immediately, the wood elf ceased his movements, causing June to let out a long whine.

"Don't give me that darling, as much as I'd love to see you cum, I think it'll feel much more satisfying if you came around his cock" Astarions attention moved toward Halsin. "Wouldn't you agree?"

The druid let out a low hum in thought, before a cheeky expression morphed onto his face. "I think it'd be best for all involved".

It didn't take long for Halsin to shed his clothes, now resting against the headboard with his hardened member standing at attention.

June bit her lip at the sight of it. It was a wonder how she'd managed to take him in the past.

"We'll go slow nyaenda" The druid could see the mix of hesitation and want that were dancing around in her gaze before she looked at him for reassurance. Nothing would happen where they would come to harm here.

Slowly, Juniper eased herself onto Halsin's throbbing cock. She started slowly at the tip, the sweet, delicious stretch causing her to let out a mewl of bliss before slowly sinking down onto him inch by inch.

Before she knew it, June was sitting snugly on Halsin's lap, his dick buried deep inside her.

"Don't start just yet, let me look at you two~" Astarion crooned. By this point, his own member was straining against his laces, desperately aching for some semblance of touch. But his eyes remained transfixed on June and Halsin.

"She takes you so well, doesn't she?" Elvish slipped from the vampire's lips, clearly thrilled and amused at the debauched sight of the pair.

"She feels amazing...I'm not sure how much longer I can hold back" Halsin's expression was knitting in a mix of arousal and concentration, as if it was taking everything within him not to simply lose himself in her.

"Give it a little more time my sweet bear~" Seeing them both on the cusp of desperation, their arousal permeating the room and the budding tension, the need. It was all coming to a head.

"Astarion~!" June whined, her back already arching up against Halsin, her hips grinding small, needy circles as she urgently searched for pleasure.

The spawn hummed, leaning back against his chair. He certainly could be mean about all this...

An Elvish word fell from her lover's lips, but June could easily understand what it meant.

With a loud moan, June felt Halsin start to thrust up inside her, holding her body flush to his while his member brushed up against her G-spot with reckless abandon.

"Oh gods~!" the way he stretched inside her, the way her walls hugged around him, it was all so much at once that June quickly became drunk on pleasure, a dumb smile spreading across her lips as she moved along with Halsin's hips.

Astarion watched with intensity as his cleric bounced on Halsin's cock from across the room, the druid greedily palming and groping at Junes breasts while he breathed in her scent, his hips snapping up and down with feral need.

"Look at you~ Enjoying yourself?". The question itself wasn't for anybody in specific. But seeing his little cleric letting out moans, trying to gather enough cohesion to form words was adorable.

He was pretty sure that he heard some semblance of words somewhere in the mix of her babbling, but her expression was all that he needed.

With a hiss, Astarion's fingers brushed his own member, the outline of it clear against the fabric of his pants. With haste, he quickly unlaced them, eventually kicking his underwear and pants off his ankles as his cock sprung free.

The spawns fingers grabbed his member, his hand jerking himself as Halsin's thrusts became harder and harder.

"That's it...You're both doing so good for me" he whispered.

Between the sounds they were all making, the scent of mixing arousals and the anticipation, and the sight of Halsin and June wrapped up in a state of pleasurable bliss, Astarion couldn't help but begin to let go and enjoy himself.

"Fuck~" he hadn't realized just how much this would turn him on, how good it actually felt.

June leaned back against Halsin, enjoying the ride as she watched Astarion's hand work frantically, her gaze glued to him as pleasure continued to build higher and higher.

It wouldn't be long now, as she began to feel the tell tale tightening in the pit of her belly.

"H-Halsin-! I'm going to-!". A loud blissful moan ripped from her chest as her toes curled, the head of the druid's dick was still brushing up against her G-spot, sending her further into the throes of her climax.

With her cunt squeezing around him, it didn't take long for Halsin to cum. His grip tightened around her as his hips stuttered, pumping hot, thick white ribbons up inside her.

Finally, fevered breaths calmed, and what was a firm grip became gentle caresses.

"You did so well" The druid's gentle praise made June smile softly, happy that she was able to make him feel good.

"So did you" she turned, placing a soft kiss on his cheek before her attention moved toward Astarion. "Would you like some attention? Or-?"

The last thing she wanted was for him to be left out.

Astarion had been chasing his own pleasure, and while stroking himself and their show had been lovely, he couldn't help but want to be a bit more involved now.

Slowly, the spawn got up from his chair, discarding his shirt as he slinked toward the bed.

Sitting in front of June, he gently stroked her cheek. "You're so sweet~" he teased.

What he really wanted was a taste.

He wasted no time diving down, his tongue gliding along her slit and toward her sensitive clit. She sucked in a breath, squirming from the overstimulation.

The spawn let out a soft groan as the taste of Junes and Halsin's climax lingered on his tongue, leaving way for a salty sweet flavor. Astarion glanced up at her, mischief glimmering in his eye.

"Halsin? Could you please be a dear and keep her still?". The druid let out a soft chuckle, knowing what Astarion was thinking.

"I'm happy to oblige Astarion, but is this a little much for her?" Astarion hummed, contemplating before meeting his lover's gaze.

"Is this too much? Or do you want more~?"

The way he purred his words sent a small shiver down Junes' spine. The notion of feeling more pleasure, to be touched and teased by both men sending her mind toward salacious thoughts and images in her head, and the exciting prospect of what was to come.

"M-more, please"

Astarion let out a soft hum of endearment before taking her chin and placing a soft kiss against her lips.

"Good girl"

With that, he wasted no time continuing his ministrations while Halsin gently but firmly held June by her hips.

June's expression melted with arousal and stimulation. With Halsin still buried inside her, it was hard for her mind to think straight. With a knee jerk reaction, she ground her hips forward, earning a grunt from the druid.

"Mmph-! Astarion-" Halsin's expression was wild, bunched up in concentration and arousal. While still inside the cleric, his mind began to swim with need, and having her squirm and move despite his best efforts wasn't doing anything to keep his concentration steady.

Astarion hummed, earning another little moan from June.

He'd be happy to change things up in a moment, as of right now though, he was having far too much fun watching the both of them writhe, and the taste of them both mingling together was enough to drive him to madness.

His tongue continued to glide up and down Junes' slit, occasionally leaving tender kisses on her clit. All the while, his hands crept along her thighs, his fingers brushing up against Halsin's.

June watched from where she sat, biting her lip as tears threatened to spill over from the delicious overstimulation. The mixture of pleasure and mild discomfort that wracked her body made her draw a breath as she felt the build of her second orgasm begin.

"You're doing so well my heart" The druid's breath brushed against her ear, whispering soft words of praise and encouragement while his hands travelled from her thighs up to her breasts, tenderly squeezing them while he watched the spawn continue to feast.

But he remained still as Astarion instructed.

It was safe to say that Astarion had become drunk on the taste of them, his eyes full of intoxication as his tongue continued to brush along her soaking slit. Between Junes squirming and what was happening between her legs, it was enough for the druid's member to harden once more, thoughts of breeding their sweet cleric whispering in the back of his mind.

It'd be so easy to start bucking up inside her again, to fill her up with cum until it came spilling out of her.

"O-Oh gods-! I-!" June let out a shudder as her second orgasm overtook her, her cunt squeezing and fluttering around Halsin, earning more grunts and moans from him while Astarion got a fresh taste of her on his lips.

The spawn wrenched himself away from her core, a smirk playing against his lips.

"You taste sweeter than normal" he could see that she was still coming down from her high, and it appeared that Halsin was a few moments away from abandoning instruction and having her all to himself.

At this point, Astarion knew that he needed release, as the head of his cock had become pink and desperate.

It took some gentle guidance, but June managed to ease herself off of the druid, her knees wobbling as she rose off of him.

"Do you have it in yourself for one more darling?" June glanced up at Astarion, she could feel the ache in her hips and knees, her cunt now far more sensitive than before.

But the thoughts of feeling both elve's embrace, to feel full drifted through her mind.

"I can do one more"

"Perfect~"

Astarion was quick to lay on the bed, guiding June to lay on top of him.

Halsin watched as the spawns cock slid inside her with ease, causing him to draw in a low breath. "Oak father preserve me, these two will be the death of me" he thought.

"Well don't just stand there sweet bear". It only took a moment to understand Astarions invitation, as June's bare, plump ass was on full display with how they were positioned.

The two didn't wait for him, as Astarion began thrusting up inside her. He couldn't even blame him for being so greedy, given how wonderful their cleric felt.

He sauntered over, his hands brushing along her sensitive skin. The visible shudder June made was all the more encouraging, as Halsin's gentle touches evolved more into exploration. Stroking, massaging, and gradually spreading her open.

"Ha-! Halsin-!" June felt his finger slide inside her ass, gliding along inside her hole as if he was prepping her for what's to come. Astarion cupped her face, keeping her focus squarely on him.

"You've been so good for us darling, so, so good" he whispered. The spawn captured her lips in an attempt to muffle her squeals. "I've got you now". He wouldn't let anything hurt her in this moment, and he was confident that Halsin wouldn't bring harm upon her.

June nodded, burying her face into Astarions chest, her hands clenching into fists as she felt the druid's cock glide across her asshole, smearing precum across it.

A soft hiss slipped past her lips as she felt the head poke inside her, before Halsin slowly eased himself inside her inch by inch.

"Fuck~! I-!" Juniper had never felt so full before, but gods did it feel amazing.

It took a moment for the pair to thrust in tandem, but once both men did, it was pure bliss.

The room filled with June's moans and cries of euphoria, only for Halsins and Astarions to mix with hers. The sensation of feeling fullness, the love, the lust, the sweat, it all culminated in this moment of mutual pleasure.

Astarion had started greedily thrusting up inside June, reveling in her warm core and body. His eyes wandered to the wood elf, who was now caught up in his own ecstacy, expression full of feral want.

He had laid with countless lovers, half of which he couldn't remember their faces. But in this moment, Astarion found himself fully present and grounded.

The pleasure was real, the love was real. Astarion hadn't realized it, but tears were beading in the corners of his eyes.

"Are you alright?" His gaze met June's and Halsins, both of which had stilled in their movements, expressions knitted with care and concern for their partner.

Astarion was quick to blink away the tears, clearly not wanting either of them to see that.

"Do you want to stop?" June was quick to brush her fingers against his cheek, her eyes searching for any sign of distress or disassociation. All he could do was chuckle at the two of them.

"You're both too lovely for your own good". It was hard enough to accept that someone as kind and as empathetic as Juniper wound up with the likes of him. The fact that it seemed like their resident bear, with all of his wisdom and warmth had also somehow gotten tangled up in the mix.

"To be clear, I'm fine, it'd be far too disappointing to stop now~" Astarion was quick to assure both of them, not wanting to leave the pair fussing over him.

With that, June leaned forward, bringing her lips to his. The kiss was both loving and full of need.

It didn't take long for all three of them to come back to the momentum they'd built before, with the three of them working in tandem with one another.

June had lost herself to pleasure, muttering sweet nothings against Astarions skin as she felt the both of them ruin her ass and cunt. If they'd fucked her any more, she was sure that she'd melt into her lover.

With a loud, satisfied scream, June came to her third climax, with Halsin and Astarion not far behind her. The warm sensation of cum filling her pussy and ass brought a blush of red to rise from her cheeks as she felt a mixture of satisfaction and embarrassment given how lewd this whole scene probably looked.

The three of them untangled themselves in peaceful silence, only really communicating through a tender look or soft touches.

When all were clean and taken care of, June found herself in the middle of the bed. Sandwiched between both of them.

She took a glance at Halsin, who was half awake, appearing rather serene given all that'd taken place. She then looked to her left at Astarion, who was face down, with his face half buried in a pillow, though she could tell that he was wide awake.

"Thank you, the both of you" she didn't expect ever being with the both of them all at once, but she certainly could get used to it.

Halsin let out a low contemplative hum.

"Of course, I'm happy to oblige you both". The feelings that he had for June had grown rapidly as a wildfire, and while they had both explored each other physically and emotionally, it'd dawned on him that all the feelings he had harbored for her extended to Astarion as well given all that they'd done.

Astarion shifted his gaze so that he could look at the two of them, a devious smile spreading across his face.

"We should do this again sometime"

Intimacy had been a long process of exploration and healing for him. And while he wouldn't just share June with just anyone, the wood elf was certainly the exception.

Perhaps Halsin was more than just an exception...

He watched as June got comfortable, bringing the blanket up to her chin before giving both of them a small smile.

"pray for the poor staff here, I have a feeling we might get kicked out if we keep making as much noise as we have".

At June's statement, both men looked at each other, sharing a grin before letting out a series of giggles.

Their cleric might have a point on that.

[nocasdatsgay]

Spring Time Affairs

Day three of @polyacotarweek : Secrets

Summary: Flora likes to rile her husband up, especially if it means she gets to play with Elain in the process.

MasterPost | Poly Week Master Post| AO3 Link

Pairings: Tamlin/OC/Elain/Lucien | Rating: E🌶️| Word Count: 1890

Warnings: smut

A/N: relationships should never have to be a secret. Pretending it is for the thrill however, that is acceptable.

Tagging: @saltedcoffeescotch @ysmtttty

Flora should have been ashamed of herself. Should bring the operative word. But the way Elain’s thigh was shaking where it was draped over her shoulder, she could only focus on bringing her over the edge. How she ended up kneeling under Elain’s pale yellow skirts in the small library on the east end was irrelevant.

Elain was whimpering above her as she sucked and swirled her tongue on her clit just like she liked. Stubborn, she thought. Elain was deliberately fighting her orgasm. Flora knew it. She stopped thrusting her fingers and instead wiggled the pads of them, pressing on that spot that had Elain crying out above her. She grinned as Elain came, damn near soaking her face and hand. Flora licked it all up, pleased when Elain started to push her away because it was too much.

“I swear you stay under her skirts more than I do.”

Lucien’s voice startled her as she pulled away and moved to stand. He was grinning wickedly at his mate, who Flora was pleased to see had a flush on her face and was still catching her breath.

“I can’t help it,” Flora made a show of licking one of her fingers. “She tastes so good.”

“You’re lucky Tamlin is looking for you,” Lucien said. He did look ready to bend her over the table behind her. His gaze turned to his mate. “You are a wicked little female.”

“Whatever do you mean, Lord Lucien?” Elain straightened her skirt with her palms.

Flora’s eyebrows shot up. Elain always flirted by riling Lucien up. And the best way to do so was to address him formally. Flora learned that herself the hard way.

“Flora, lock the door,” Lucien did not look at her as he spoke. “I think I need to have a conversation with my mate about inappropriate uses of the mating bond.”

Flora did not suppress her grin. “Of course. Have fun.”

She left, shutting the door and waving her hand to lock it. She tried to not giggle at the squeal she heard Elain let out as she went down the hallway. She went to her husband’s office first. He was normally there most of the day nearing the end of the year months. Sure enough, Tamlin was at his desk, looking over papers. He looked up as she entered and shut the door.

“Lucien said you were looking for me?”

She walked past the chairs and his desk to sit on the table against the window behind him. It was a test; he knew that. She could tell he knew by the way he rose from his chair and turned to her with a predatory look. She smoothed out the skirts of her sky blue dress. He came up to her, nudging her legs open with his own, his nostrils flaring as he leaned into her.

“You smell like Elain. Gods, were you in the library again?”

“Maybe.” She grinned and watched him plant both of his hands on the table, caging her in.

“Wild flower.” Tamlin growled in her ear. “Are you trying to get caught?”

“Why would I do that?”

Tamlin took one hand and pushed up her skirts further so he could stand between her open legs, forcing them to spread further. He pulled back and stood straighter.

“Because you’re a minx,” he tilted up her chin. Green eyes blown black. “I don’t even remember why I called you in here.”

Flora hummed as he tucked a loose golden brown curl behind her ear.

“What a Lady of Spring you are, smelling like another male’s mate. What would the servants think?”

So that was the game they were playing. The ‘pretend the whole court doesn’t know’ game. Flora liked this game, if only because Tamlin could pretend to be possessive.

“Fuck the servants,” she gasped.

He gripped her hips and pulled her to the edge of the table and pressed his body against her. The bulge of his pants rubbing against her. Her underwear was already soaked from playing with Elain. She whined and pouted when he pulled back. A hand on her thigh inched up under her skirt until a claw hooked her underwear. She lifted her rear up so he could pull them off. He scowled as the blue lacy scrap of cloth came into view.

“Who bought you these? It wasn’t me.” He lifted them higher to look at them better. “They’re too slutty for my tastes.” A lie.

She bit her lip. He knew who, but he wanted her to say it. “Lucien.”

His gaze narrowed on her as he tossed the underwear aside. “You want them to know what a little whore you are.”

“No,” she shook her head.

“You do.” He tsked at you. “This is the third time this month I’ve caught you smelling like them. Do you want the court to think I can’t satisfy my wife?”

She almost snorted. Instead, she feigned shock. “No!” 

“But you do. They don’t know our little secret, do they? They just see you, walking around and smelling like this. Makes you look unfaithful. Do I need to remind you who you belong to?”

She tried to not grin or seem too excited as he unlaced his trousers. He reached up and grabbed her chin forcing her to look at him.

“I asked you a question.”

“Yes sir.”

He let go of her chin and his trousers fell to the floor. She looked down and watched him stroke his hard length, the core of her clenching at the thought of what was about to happen. She inhaled as he stepped close to her, wanting nothing more than for him to take her.

“What did you do with Elain?”

Flora looked up, mouth agape. “I- I was under her skirts. I used my mouth.”

Tamlin reached around and grabbed the back of her head, not undoing her braids but holding her still as he pressed his lips to hers. She let his tongue in and he growled while he probed around. He could taste Elain still on her lips and tongue. Flora did not move. He pulled back. He said nothing; only stroked himself once more before pushing into her heat.

Flora fell back on both her hands, head also falling back as she let out a moan. He gave her no time to adjust, not that she minded. She was content to let him take what he wanted from her. Tamlin had other plans.

“Look at me,” a command, laced with the authority of Spring. She lifted her head up, eyes wide open. “Who do you belong to?”

”You.” She whimpered with each thrust, his length hitting that spot inside her. “You, Tamlin.”

He growled again. “And what are our rules?”

”We, fuck, we keep- Tam,” She wrapped her leg around his waist. “We keep it secret.” Another lie. 

“Exactly.” He thrusted into her harder, stroking the pleasure in her higher. “What we do in our bedroom is no one’s concern but our own.”

“Yes, Tamlin.”

“If you’re going to smell like sex during the day, you’ll smell of me.”

“Yes sir,” she cried out. “Only you.”

Tamlin sank his teeth into her neck, causing her to arch against him and yell with her eyes rolling back. He then pulled back and licked at the bite. Her legs tightened around his waist again while he continued to thrust into her, one of her hands going into his blond hair.

Then the doorknob turned and for a moment her heart stopped. She moved her hand and slapped it over her mouth, crying out as she came suddenly.

“Am I interrupting?”

It was Lucien, the bastard. He had the audacity to look innocent as he slipped into the room and shut the door. She was still pulsing around Tamlin, who stopped to look at him.

“What?” He asked, breathing heavily. As if his trousers weren’t around his ankles with his cock buried in his wife.

“The emissary from Summer is here.” Tamlin growled and Lucien grinned. “I just wanted to inform you, High Lord.”

“Get the fuck out and don’t think I won’t punish you for bothering me.”

“Maybe you should punish your wife, since she came the second she thought she was caught.” His eyes flashed at her as he grinned. “I know what you sound like when you cum, Flora.”

“Get out Lucien.” She rolled her eyes. “Weren’t you just with Elain?”

Lucien clasped his hands behind his back. “Elain is a bit tied up at the moment. I can have you join her if Tam wants.”

“Get. Out.”

Command laced Tamlin’s snarling tone. Lucien didn’t drop his grin but exited as requested. Tam threw out magic, locking the door. He turned back to her with a look in his eye. In quick movements, he pulled out of her, pulled her off the table, stood her on her feet and pushed her down across the table. Her skirts were thrown up onto her back and she gasped when he smacked his hand hard against her rear.

“Naughty girl.” He kicked her feet apart and smacked her across her wet cunt. “I didn’t tell you to cum.”

“I’m sorry Tam.” She stood on her toes, hoping he’d do that again. When he did, she moaned loudly, clenching around nothing. “Are you going to punish me?”

“I should.”

She heard him shuffle and felt him push his length back into her. He pulled her upright to be flush against him so he could whisper in her ear.

“You and Lucien both have been so bratty. But I have a meeting. So I’m going to finish fucking you and when I’m done, you’re going put those slutty little panties back on and let my seed drip out your cunt for the rest of the day so everyone knows who the Lady of Spring belongs to.”

“Please.”

He chuckled in her ear, pulling his hips back to thrust up into her. A clawed hand came around her throat while his arm wrapped around her waist as he continued. It didn’t take long for him to finish, growling in her ear as he did so. When he pulled out, she squeezed her legs together and waited. She straightened out her skirts and waited while he pulled up and fixed his trousers.

“Look at my good girl,” he chuckled, coming up beside her to hand her the panties he’d pulled off.

Flora didn’t say anything as she carefully stepped into them and pulled them up. She shivered as she felt his cum slip out of her slowly after she unclenched her legs. She turned to him, batting her eyes innocently at her husband.

“May I be dismissed, High Lord?”

“By the cauldron you make it difficult.” He came up to her, grabbing her by the hair to press his lips to hers before pulling away. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she pressed a quick kiss to his lips one last time. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

She waited by the door until he threw out his magic, unlocking it. She slipped out as if nothing happened and headed straight for Lucien and Elain’s bedroom. Lucien dropped that information for a reason when he barged in and she was about to make use of it.

[nightswithkookmin]

I mean if this isn't peak boyfriends energy then is love even real??????

This is so Park Jimin. Carefully worded to avoid any bro talks. Happy Birthday Jk. Simple. Straight to the point no mincing words. Gotta respect that.

And I love that this is Idol Jimin just living his truth deciding what's relevant and worthy of curating on his wall on Instagram.

Whatever you think of it, he's posted him. He posted his BB 100 he congratulated him and tagged him. It's cute, it's wonderful and it's refreshing.

I was telling a friend, this may not necessarily be the best birthday post he's made, but it's his most iconic post. I looove it!

I always found those HD cute posts of them on his birthdays adorable. They always felt personal and you could sense the care and effort he'd put into it.

This photo feels personal too- but it's a whole new level of personal. It's giving memories. It's giving young wild and free. It's giving GCF in Tokyo. It's giving Troye Sivan legel intimate. It's giving set me free. It's giving good ride. It's giving screw yall I'm free.

It's giving whatever this photo is giving

Can't see their faces but I can tell they both pretty happy in there🥺🥺🥺

And their displayed tattoos 😭😭😭😭😭😭

I don't know whether to be jealous or happy for Kook

And I swear to God Park Jimin is tiptoeing in there😭😭

I can almost hear their giggles and grunts🤧🤧

I feel like a 3rd wheel watching them like this not gonna lie.

And if they took this on his birthday I'll sue Jimin

Sickening that he posted shirtless boy love waiting for you anpanman photos of them whisking themselves off to a bay amidst all these dating rumors 😩😩😩😩

Jimin is a villain at this point 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Imagine thinking he has a girlfriend- ladies love yourselves. Stop being clowns. Delulu is not the solulu

If he can do all this- go over and beyond for his band mate (not even all of his band mate just the one) and is keeping you a secret you are not his girlfriend.

You are his long ass beard

I've not seen Jk's live but I better not hear crickets chirping in the background 💀💀💀💀

The gay is getting out of hand at this point 😩

[birdiewriteslit]

wildest dreams au

luke hughes x abigail abernathy

masterlist

glamorousgail🔒

tagged rudeth, drewstarkey, jonathandavissofficial, madisonbaileybabe

Liked by rudeth and 17 others

glamorousgail miss this gang

View comments

drewstarkey soon🏄‍♂️

madisonbaileybabe summer cannot come soon enough

glamorousgail @/madisonbaileybabe literally three days into january and sick of it

lhughes_06 @/glamorousgail you live in new england

glamorousgail @/lhughes_06 fine i’ll just move to florida without you…

lhughes_06 @/glamorousgail DO NOT

madelyncline i miss you cutie pie

❤️ by author

jonathandavissofficial pogue life is the best life

glamorousgail @/jonathandavissofficial if that ain’t the truth

carlaciagrant ugh i miss these vibes

hichasestokes 🤙🤙

rudeth guys i inspired this post

❤️ by author

lhughes_06 @/rudeth well aren’t you special

January 3, 2024

—

messages 5:04 pm

luke: are you seriously still talking to rudy

abigail: he’s my friend so yes

luke: do you remember why he broke up with you

abigail: believe it or not i do and we’ve talked about it

abigail: he feels really bad and i don’t want to fuck up what we have right now especially with season 4 on the horizon

luke: gail that doesn’t fix what he did

luke: i’m looking out for you

abigail: i know that’s what you think you’re doing but trust me luke i know how to handle this

abigail: i’ve had exes who didn’t like our friendship and when they broke up with me bc of it it’s never bothered you this much

luke: whatever just forget about it

abigail: good luck tonight

read 5:17 pm

—

Abigail set her phone down and rubbed a hand over her face. She let out a frustrated sigh. It was true, she had a few ex boyfriends who hadn’t loved the idea of her being so close with other guys.

Rudy was one of them, but him and Abigail had finally reached a point where that didn’t matter, and they could go back to what they were before they started dating during the filming of season one of OBX.

She wished Luke would understand that Rudy had changed, but she knew the real reason he was upset about it, even if they pretended it never happened.

December 31, 2023

After the fireworks and the party, Abigail and the boys had successfully made it back to her apartment.

They made a great drinking game out of Monopoly on her bathroom floor, and it was getting a little wild.

Jack had almost flipped the board a few times because Abigail threatened to take his properties (even though that was against the rules).

“That’s it! I can’t afford a fucking hotel, I’m quitting this,” Quinn announced, standing from the bathroom tile, wobbling a bit before taking a few slow steps toward the door. He didn’t make it far before he slipped on some spare Monopoly dollars and came crashing down into the bathtub.

Jack laughed hysterically as Quinn groaned from the tub.

“I’ll go get some water for these guys,” Abigail decided, patting Luke’s arm before heading to the kitchen.

Luke glanced down at his phone in a nervous manner. “Wait up,” he said, following her into the hall.

Abigail took two glasses from the cabinet and placed them on the counter. “You think I need help?” she said, teasing.

“I think you’re perfectly capable,” he said, hands in his pockets as he stood by the island.

“Alright,” she responded skeptically.

Luke cleared his throat. “There’s a minute until midnight,” he said suddenly.

“Really? I didn’t know it was that late already.” She filled up each cup and put them in front of Luke on the island.

“Time flies when you’re having fun.” He looked at her like he was expecting something. He wanted Abigail to make the connection. He wanted her to round the counter and get closer to him. And then, he wanted her to kiss him when the countdown was over.

He could hear his heart pounding in his ears. Abigail wasn’t saying anything. She was looking at him with her lips parted, her eyebrows pushed together. Luke thought, for a moment, for a good thirty seconds, that that look meant she didn’t want what he did.

On the tv in the living room that was still playing from before they all left to go see the fireworks, the countdown had reached twenty seconds.

Luke’s eyes glanced down at Abigail’s body, he couldn’t hold eye contact for much longer without imploding. The strap of her tank top had fallen from her shoulder. Absentmindedly, he reached out to fix it.

When he did, he looked back to her face and saw she was staring at his lips. As the countdown finished, she grabbed his hand and guided it to her neck, pulling him forward simultaneously and kissing him hard.

Cheers could be heard from the television, but Luke could hear nothing over the sound of the blood rushing to his ears.

Maybe it was the alcohol that made Abigail that confident, or maybe it was just how tired she was of wanting to kiss him but never being able to.

She pulled away faster than she wanted to. Luke stared at her with a dumbstruck look on his face. Abigail avoided his eyes and grabbed the glasses from the counter, taking them to where Jack and Quinn were waiting.

January 3, 2024

Abigail didn’t talk to Luke about the kiss after it happened. Luke never mentioned anything about it to Abigail either, but she couldn’t help but wonder if it had been more than just a mistake she made when she was drunk.

What did it mean to him? How would it affect their relationship if he wanted it? Were they just going to stay friends or become more?

“I can’t do this right now,” she muttered to herself, before throwing herself back on the couch and passing out.

When she woke up, the Devils game was over. They won, but her nap rendered her groggy and feeling even worse.

She found her phone on the floor and picked it up, deciding to make a call. It rung for about a second before Quinn picked up.

“Abby, what’s up?”

“I just took a fat nap and I feel horrible,” she stated plainly.

Quinn laughed on the other side of the phone. “I feel that. Did you catch the game?”

“No, I’ve been asleep, Quinn. I can’t do this sun down at four thing.” She scowled at the dark sky outside her window.

“Even though you’ve lived in Boston your whole life? I’d think you’d be used to it by now,” Quinn said. “Are you okay?”

Quinn heard it in Abigail’s voice. She didn’t take that nap because she felt overwhelmed by the darkness. She sighed into the phone.

“Luke and I got into a sort of fight before the game. It wasn’t really a fight, he’s just upset I’ve been out with Rudy.” Abigail conveniently left out the whole kissing his brother thing, she just needed Quinn’s reassurance, like she always did.

“He seemed pissed tonight, at least on tv. Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really, but thanks for picking up, Quinny. I just wanted to let somebody know. You know, before I think about it too much.”

“We wouldn’t want that.” Abigail could hear the smile in his voice. They said goodbye and hung up the phone.

Abigail opened her messages and saw nothing new. Then, she checked twitter, and promptly closed the app after realizing she couldn’t escape her problems.

[inairbinad]

what doesn't kill me makes me want you more

Steddie | Explicit | 11k words | Read on AO3

Written for @thefreakandthehair's Summer Fanworks Challenge for the prompt: "That look in your eye terrifies me." Thanks so much for organizing this, Lex! It's been so fun!! 💜 tags/cw: fwb, jealousy, love confessions, consensual somno, deepthroating, semi-public sex, light d/s dynamics, cockwarming, good boy Eddie Munson, soft dom Steve Harrington, off-screen negotiated kink, meddling buckingham, one teensie reference to past stomarol, and more tags on ao3

Eddie is good for Steve, he thinks. Good in more than just the way he knows exactly how to turn Steve to putty in his hands, beyond how he can make Steve laugh, or make him feel safe, or even how he’s one of the best friends Steve’s ever had. Steve really has to start grappling with the fact that he’s in love with Eddie—the little detail might have the power to ruin them forever. Ruin Steve forever. Because he’s the one that went and fell in love when they were supposed to just be fooling around, friends with benefits or whatever the fuck Eddie had called it when they first started this When Steve’s being entirely honest with himself, he knows he was in love with Eddie long before their arrangement ever started, but he dove in head first anyway, desperate for an excuse to have Eddie in whatever way he could get him.

[read on ao3, or under the cut!]

Steve wakes up to Eddie’s mouth around his cock, and even though he’s barely conscious he’s already not sure how much more he can take.

Steve whines, a deep gravelly whimper that makes Eddie stop what he’s doing with a wet pop. The filthy sound of it, the way a trail of spit and precum dangles from Eddie’s lip as he smiles up at Steve, hair a wild mess and with nothing but hunger in his eyes—Steve has to bite down on his lip to keep from telling Eddie he loves him. If Eddie thinks he’s just stifling a moan, so be it.

“Mornin’ Stevie,” Eddie says, licks his lips and then slowly draws his tongue along the slit of Steve’s cock. Steve hisses at the sight as much as the sensation, so hard already he wonders how long it took for him to wake up.

“Morning,” Steve manages to say, brushing his fingertips across Eddie’s cheekbone and sending him a sloppy smile. “Started breakfast without me?”

“You just looked so fucking good, babe, I couldn’t wait.” Eddie lowers his mouth to lick Steve’s balls next, and it takes everything Steve has not to jerk his hips wildly in response. Eddie smiles like he can tell. “You can punish me if you want.”

And god, if Steve doesn’t love it when Eddie’s in a mood like this. He loved most of Eddie’s moods, actually. They were so in sync with their tastes, their desires, their kinks—maybe everything but their feelings for each other.

“Should I make you watch me jerk myself off?” Steve snakes his hand down his chest and grabs his own shaft with a squeeze that makes his breath catch. He watches Eddie’s eyes flare and doesn’t bother to hold back a shaky laugh. “Force you to keep that pretty mouth to yourself?”

As he watches Steve stroke his own cock—still soaked with Eddie’s spit—Eddie bites down on his lip so hard Steve wonders if he might break the skin. Steve uses his free hand to tug Eddie’s lip free, and Eddie doesn’t hesitate to suck Steve’s thumb into his mouth instead. Steve can feel the way Eddie’s spit is thicker with his own precum when Eddie swirls his tongue, sucking Steve’s thumb deeper.

Steve pulls it back and pushes three fingers into Eddie’s mouth instead, reveling in the way Eddie moans and looks up at him like he’s grateful. Steve shoves his fingers in deeper, and Eddie sucks them down as Steve moves them in time with each stroke of his cock.

“Gonna let me fuck your throat?” Steve asks eventually. Eddie’s eyes are pleading as he keens around Steve’s fingers, making a gurgling sound as he nods ferociously. Steve palms the head of his cock before stroking down again, then presses the tip right up against Eddie’s chin. “Fuck, baby. Lemme see what that mouth can do.”

Eddie sucks the tip of Steve’s cock back into his mouth like he’s starved for it. Steve moves his hand to cup the back of Eddie’s head, guiding it as he lets Eddie bob up and down a few times before he starts thrusting up into it. But Eddie seems impatient, makes a needy sort of grumbling sound as he swallows Steve down as far as he can go. His nose presses into the thick nest of Steve’s hair and he looks up at Steve with pride as he sucks in a deep breath through his nose—a plea for more.

Steve’s happy to oblige. He pushes up until Eddie gags and pulls back with a wet, sloppy smile. He comes back for more almost instantly, and Steve trusts Eddie will tell him if it’s too much. He thrusts up again and Eddie moans around his cock, relaxing his throat just at the perfect moment for the vibrations to send frissons of heat straight from Steve’s tip and licking up his spine. He holds Eddie’s head in a firm grip and lets himself get lost in how good it feels, makes sure to tell Eddie just how much.

“God, you were meant to be a pretty mouth to fuck, weren’t you Eds? Like your throat was made for my cock,” Steve says, and Eddie’s eyes roll back as he hums again, sending another wave of electricity through Steve like a serpent eating its own tail of absolute divine pleasure between them. The wet heat of Eddie’s mouth is perfect, he knows just how to press his tongue against the underside of Steve’s cock to make him see stars.

Steve wonders how Eddie can be so good at making Steve come undone without loving him back.

The problem is as much as Steve loves fucking into Eddie’s mouth until he can feel the tip of his dick pressing against Eddie’s perfect, pliant throat, sometimes he thinks he’d like waking up to a deviant round of cuddles just as much.

“Fuck, you’re so goddamn good for me,” Steve whines anyway, fisting Eddie’s hair into a tighter grip and thrusting up into his mouth again. Eddie looks up at Steve like he’s floating on the praise, tears now sparkling on his pretty lashes. The sight alone is nearly enough to make Steve fall apart.

Eddie is good for Steve, he thinks. Good in more than just the way he knows exactly how to turn Steve to putty in his hands, beyond how he can make Steve laugh, or make him feel safe, or even how he’s one of the best friends Steve’s ever had.

Steve really has to start grappling with the fact that he’s in love with Eddie—the little detail might have the power to ruin them forever. Ruin Steve forever. Because he’s the one that went and fell in love when they were supposed to just be fooling around, friends with benefits or whatever the fuck Eddie had called it when they first started this.

When Steve’s being entirely honest with himself, he knows he was in love with Eddie long before their arrangement ever started, but he dove in head first anyway, desperate for an excuse to have Eddie in whatever way he could get him.

It’s never in these moments that he regrets it, not when Eddie fits him so perfectly, knows just what Steve always needs and vice versa. They’ve negotiated every kink in the book, talked through what they like and don’t, fucked each other senseless so many times by now Steve wonders how he’s ever supposed to get hard for anyone else—or love anyone else.

But that part isn’t allowed. Those words are for thoughts only, allowed to stir a yearning ache that takes over Steve’s whole body in waves but never be released aloud into the space between them.

So Steve keeps letting his body say what his mouth can’t and fucks up into Eddie’s throat, desperately chasing a high he can never quite reach. Then Eddie flattens his tongue and relaxes his jaw just right, and Steve barely has time to register the way he feels that familiar tightening in his balls before he’s coming, babbling Eddie’s name like a prayer.

He paints Eddie’s throat in his cum, possessing him in the only way he knows how. Eddie swallows it all down hungrily, then takes the time to lick Steve clean until he’s on the verge of overstimulated and writhing.

“Eds,” Steve pants, using whatever weak grip he still has on Eddie’s hair to pull him away.

“Yeah, Stevie?” Eddie asks, all faux innocence, fluttering eyelashes, and swollen lips—like all he wants is to keep his mouth on Steve’s cock for the rest of their lives.

And there’s another one of those thoughts about forever that Steve has to shove away in earnest, bury deep in as many dirty thoughts as he can heap on top of it before he loses his senses.

He grins wickedly down at Eddie before pulling him the length of his body up for a filthy, salty kiss. Steve can taste himself on Eddie’s tongue, moans into it before hooking his leg over Eddie’s hip and flipping him onto his back. He pulls away slow, sucking Eddie’s bottom lip as he goes, not releasing it until he gives it a little nip.

He sees what’s left of the tear tracks staining Eddie’s cheeks and kisses them away—more salt on his tongue to temper the sweetness that is Eddie.

“You were so perfect, always make me feel so good,” Steve tells him between kisses, inching further down Eddie’s jaw, his neck, his chest as he goes.

“Can’t help that you taste so good, sweetheart,” Eddie purrs, arches his back as Steve starts to twist his nipple piercing between his fingers, before sucking it into his mouth. Steve feels Eddie’s dick twitch against his hip as he laps at his nipple—all cold metal and taut, pebbled skin beneath his hot tongue. He pulls away and looks up at Eddie, who’s watching every move Steve makes with rapt attention.

“My turn,” Steve promises, then sinks down for some breakfast of his own.

Steve almost regrets having to brush his teeth. He feels dirty to think it, shameful even, but he wishes he could keep the taste of Eddie and himself blended together with him all day, the mixture of their cum and spit that coats his mouth and reminds him of exactly how good things with Eddie can be.

“Can anyone make you come like I do, sweetheart?” Eddie had asked after they were both sated and finished, knowing full well what the answer was, is, has always been. Steve just smiled and stretched and avoided the question, but now that he’d retreated to the bathroom to get ready to leave, he can’t think about anything else.

Because he’s afraid it will always be Eddie for him. Not just because the sex is good—it’s phenomenal, but he loved Eddie well before he ever knew how well they could meld together in bed—but because Steve’s heart is so tied to Eddie he’s not sure how he’ll ever untangle those feelings without catastrophic damage.

It’s always this part of their time together that Steve dreads the most, where he inevitably starts to contemplate leaving Eddie behind and never coming back. Just Eddie’s fingers on his skin can make Steve feel more alive than he has in years, yet somehow it makes him feel so empty by the time he cleans up and leaves, that Steve’s not sure how much longer he can do this.

He’s not sure what stupid impulse ever made him think he was cut out for a no-strings-attached situation, but he curses it every time he feels like this.

Steve thinks it’s almost worse that Eddie’s never an asshole about it. He’s always more than happy for Steve to spend the night, to lay cuddled together in a tangled mess of limbs, talking and joking all night long—or at least until they’re ready to go again. Eddie’s always willing to let Steve make him breakfast the next morning, or to make Steve’s coffee perfectly and do the whole domestic thing that drives Steve even more wild than the orgasms do.

Steve never feels like Eddie’s just using him for sex and somehow, beyond all of Steve’s deductive reasoning abilities, that’s become a huge problem. Steve loves every minute of it, every ounce of affection Eddie showers him with, but once he’s left to sneak back into his own house (or Eddie’s off to do the same), reality sinks in that Steve might have Eddie, but he doesn’t really have him in the way he wants to. Needs to.

He and Eddie were clear when they started this. Friends with benefits. Nothing more, nothing less. They would be each other’s ports in a storm against the lashing tides of loneliness. Because they liked each other, trusted each other, and it seems so silly to let all that attraction, all that sexual compatibility, go to waste.

Steve caught feelings anyway.

Well, if Steve was being honest like Robin wanted him to be, he’d caught feelings before he ever even agreed to the whole arrangement. That’s why Robin was so adamantly against it. Not because she didn’t like Eddie—he was her girlfriend’s best friend. In the same way Chrissy loved Steve, Robin loved Eddie.

Both of them seemed to hate the idea of Steve and Eddie, though.

So mostly they snuck around. It wasn’t terribly difficult, even though Steve lived with Robin and Eddie lived with Chrissy, considering Robin and Chrissy stayed together most nights. All Steve and Eddie had to do was suss out whose place would be empty most of the time, and then manage to sneak back home before either one of their friends noticed they’d been gone.

Steve had memorized the exact way to flip open the mechanism on his and Robin’s garden gate without making it creak in the night, just below Robin’s bedroom window, as he came home from what was starting to feel like a clandestine affair.

Eddie, for his part, had every stair that creaked on the way up to his bedroom in his and Chrissy’s place memorized, so as not to alert her when he was coming home at all hours of the night.

It’s working out fine, except for that empty feeling that’s a growing cavern in Steve’s chest. And it’s getting harder and harder for him to ignore.

Steve knows he has to find a way to extricate himself from this mess he’s made, to somehow clean up his own sloppy feelings and shove them back inside a lock box in his chest without letting Eddie know anything is actually wrong, without insulting him and damaging their friendship in the process.

Because even if Steve knows he has to stop sleeping with Eddie, he can’t fathom the idea of losing him altogether.

The first step is probably getting the hell out of Eddie’s apartment, however.

Steve finally spits his toothpaste into the sink, watching all remnants of the morning washing down the drain with an ache in his ribcage.

Like clockwork, Eddie slips into the bathroom behind him and wraps his arms around Steve’s middle. He hums into the crook of Steve’s neck and says, “Coffee’s ready, sweetheart.”

And just like that Steve’s staying for coffee, too.

There’s absolutely no way that Steve’s gonna make it home before Robin gets up now. He knows he’s in for it, that he’ll have to make up an excuse about some one-night stand he somehow managed to pick up after he’d left Eddie’s the night before.

The entire walk home, he curses himself for admitting to Robin that he was planning on seeing Eddie at all.

Robin’s sitting at the kitchen table waiting for him when he gets home. Steve takes a quick look around, finds no extra shoes by the door, no spare jacket still hanging on the hook. So Chrissy isn’t still here to also witness his lovestruck humiliation, or however Robin’s planning to dress him down over it, at least.

Steve doesn’t bother trying to dodge his fate when he takes in Robin’s face. She looks stern, sure, but also sad in a way that Steve can’t possibly ignore. He goes to sit beside her, probably looking like the picture of guilt the whole way.

“Where’ve you been?” she asks by way of greeting. Steve bites his lip, but Robin stops even the semblance of a lie from percolating on the tip of his tongue with a tired sigh. “Just tell me.”

“Eddie’s,” Steve mumbles, then pillows his head in his folded arms across the tabletop. “Go ahead and yell.”

“I’m not gonna yell, Steve,” Robin says softly, and that only makes him feel worse.

“No, I think I really need it,” he says, looking up at her again without lifting his head.

“And that’s how I know you don’t,” Robin counters, patting the top of his head sympathetically. “Three times a week for four months seems to have finally knocked some sense into you.”

Steve can’t help it, he feels himself gawking at her. “How did you…?”

“Chrissy and I aren’t idiots, Steve,” Robin rolls her eyes at him with more affection than he feels like he deserves. “Just because you figured out how not to make the gate creak doesn’t mean you don’t come home smelling like him. Like right now.”

Steve actually thought he did a pretty good job at covering up Eddie’s scent, but he always hates doing it. Maybe he’d been subconsciously sabotaging his own efforts.

“Plus, Chrissy and I went back to hers one night and totally heard you two going at it,” Robin adds with a shrug. “Apparently you were so loud you didn’t notice us stumbling-drunk into the apartment and crashing for the night.”

“When was this?” Steve asks.

“I think the same week you swore to us both that you weren’t going to mess around anymore, that you were ‘just friends and that was it. Pinkie swear.’” Robin gives him a skeptical look, like she thought maybe he was cursed just for breaking the sanctity of a pinkie swear to his best friend.

She was probably right.

Steve tries to think back to that week, that day even, when he and Eddie decided they’d had enough of Chrissy and Robin’s judgmental looks over their relationship, if you could even call it that. Steve was pretty sure that was the same night Eddie had surprised him with a cock ring. So yeah, that might’ve distracted him even from armageddon commencing, let alone the fact that there were people in the next room.

“Sorry,” Steve mutters. He genuinely is if Robin and Chrissy had to listen to that night.

“Remember how you caught us in the kitchen a week later?” Robin asks, and Steve does. A little too vividly for his taste, actually.

“Payback?” Steve guesses, and Robin just grins. “I guess I deserved that. What about Eddie, though? Did he get payback too?”

“Oh, we did the same to him,” Robin assures him.

“Thorough.”

“We really are,” Robin waggles her eyebrows at him before turning back to the topic at hand. “Seriously though. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Steve feels his shoulders deflate with a sigh. “It was the same as it always is—fucking amazing. And it’s not just the sex, Rob. He’s amazing. He makes me laugh and he’s so goddamn cute and I don’t even know why because he’s a dork but…”

“You love him,” Robin fills in, and Steve feels like he might cry if he admits it out loud. So instead he just nods once, stiffly, then swallows thick so he can try and move the conversation along.

“I can’t keep leaving there pretending I don’t want him for real, you know?” Steve asks, and Robin hums along like she does. Of course she does, because she seems to know everything that goes on in Steve’s head. “It’s eating me up inside. So I’m going to end it. I have to end it. Can you…fuck. Can you help me, Robbie?”

Robin takes his hand and clasps it between her own so quickly, it feels like she’s shoved a giant weight off Steve’s chest. “Of course I will, dingus.”

“Okay,” Steve lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding onto. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Robin says matter of factly.

Like clockwork, Steve’s phone dings.

Eddie: holy shit, Stevie!!!!! Jeff says Ghost is coming here in sept!!!! we HAVE to go, please say we’re gonna go 🥺🥺🥺👻👻👻🥺🥺🥺

Steve knows he’s grinning like a fool at his phone, despite the distinctly depressing conversation he’s in the middle of with Robin. He feels her eyes on him as he types out a response. If he’s teasing Eddie on purpose, Robin doesn’t need to know that. Plus, it’s not like he said he’d stop being friends with Eddie. Just that he’d stop fucking him. They could surely go to a concert together without fucking. Right?

Steve: I don’t even like Ghost

Three little dots pop up faster than Steve can blink. He prepares himself for a lot of punctuation.

Eddie: what!!!!!!!!!

Eddie: sacrilege!!!

Eddie: how can you say such a thing?!?!?!

Eddie: okay you might be teasing me so….really??

Eddie: cause you like fuckin’ e v e r y t h i n g

Steve: That’s a mean way to call someone bisexual

“Ahem,” Robin clears her throat, making Steve jerk his head back up to look at her. “What’s so funny in your phone?”

“Just a meme Dustin sent me,” Steve lies. He’ll find a random meme if he has to, but he doesn’t think it will matter either way based on the way Robin is narrowing her eyes at him. He’s saved by another ding.

Eddie: i just snorted coffee through my nose and everyone at work is staring

Steve: 😈

Steve laughs out loud as he types his reply, hits send just a millisecond before Robin snatches his phone from his hands. She gives him a disappointed look before she reads the conversation aloud just to rub Steve’s nose in it.

“Oh, apparently Gareth is reenacting the coffee snort, now,” Robin informs him as he makes a diving grab for his phone back. She dodges him easily, because apparently she’s got a measured athletic grace that kicks in when Steve needs her clumsiness the most. “He says you must all hate him.”

“Robin,” Steve grits through his teeth. “I’m sorry, okay? But he’ll know something’s up if I start ignoring him.”

“If you don’t at least avoid him for now you’re never gonna make it, Steve,” Robin says, matter of fact, and Steve knows she’s right. He doesn’t know how to maneuver this without ruining their friendship, too.

Sometimes he worries it’s already well beyond ruined, and he’s just in denial about it.

“So what do you suggest?” Steve asks, folding his arms across his chest. “I can’t…I can’t tell him the truth, Rob. He’ll be nice about it while he rejects me and it’ll kill me. And I can’t just ghost him.”

Steve winces at his lack of a better term.

“You won’t be,” Robin shrugs easily. “I’ll keep your phone for now. Pretend to be you and respond to him. You know. How friends do.”

“That was friendly!” Steve insists.

“That was flirting,” Robin counters.

“How am I supposed to get around without my phone!” Steve deflects.

“I’ll give you mine,” Robin says easily, almost like she thinks it’ll be fun. “We’ll be fine, we do it all the time by accident anyway.”

And, well, she’s not exactly wrong about that. They’re signed into all of each other’s social media and other accounts anyway, just by virtue of how they share phones like they do clothes. And thoughts.

“Fine. But don’t be mean to him,” Steve warns.

“I told you, Steve. Nothing but friendly,” Robin grins and types out a response to whatever Eddie’s saying now. Steve gets the feeling she won’t fill him in, and is proved right when she locks the phone and a wicked grin takes over her face.

Steve is a little scared of whatever plan she has cooking up.

“You know the best way to get over someone?” she asks.

“How…” Steve’s voice is so flat it can hardly be considered a question.

“Get under somebody else.”

“Rob,” Steve protests immediately. He can’t even think about someone else yet. Maybe ever.

“Come on, Nancy’s coming to town tomorrow, Chris and I were gonna take her out for a girls night. Nothing crazy. Just a bar or two. You should come with us. See if you can meet someone…distracting. And uncomplicated,” Robin puts her best pouty, puppy eyes on. The ones she knows Steve can never resist.

He already knows he’ll say yes, but he deflects anyway. “Your solution to me getting over Eddie is taking me out with Nancy?”

“I did not say you should sleep with Nancy, you creep,” Robin groans and flicks his forehead. “If anyone is taking Nance home at the end of the night, it’s me and Chrissy.”

Well that certainly achieved the distract-Steve-from-his-misery goal in a two seconds flat. He feels his eyebrows shoot up into his hair as he half-shouts, “And that’s not complicated?!”

Steve knew Robin probably wouldn’t want to hear it, but he was willing to draw on certain throupled experiences of his own with Tommy and Carol from their college days in warning of how that path was anything but simple. Robin seems to know that’s exactly what he’s thinking anyway, because she scrunches up her nose and barrels right past any opportunity for him to bring it up.

“Not with healthy communication about expectations, dingus,” she says simply.

“I thought I did that with Eddie,” Steve points out with a huff. “Look how that turned out.”

“Yeah, except you lied about how you really felt,” Robin says, voice dripping with exasperation.

“Oh. Right,” Steve mutters. She had a point. “Guess I’m coming to girl’s night, then.”

Somehow “Girl’s Night” turned into “Let’s Pick Out a Date for Steve Night” instead, and he’s already regretting agreeing to come. Robin and Nancy are really into it, scouring the bar for potential partners and rating them on a scale of one to ten based on what they think Steve will like.

It’s a little bit more illuminating about what they think of his taste than he’s willing to examine.

Chrissy at least seems to be taking pity on Steve, and is keeping up with him beer for beer as they watch a baseball game on the bar’s TV. Steve can still feel her concerned eyes on him every once in a while, though, like Robin’s told her exactly the state he came home in the morning before.

Or maybe Eddie’s talked to her about the sudden shift in tone in Steve’s texts, how it’s obvious something has changed between them and it’s freaking Eddie out as much as it is Steve. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking.

Steve’s not proud of it, the way he’s agreed to let Robin pretend to be him so he can take the space to breathe. But he just needs to not to get caught up in the whirlwind of Eddie and his charm, or the way he draws Steve in faster than any moth has been to a flame. So he gave Robin his phone, asked her to screen for anything important, and has been sticking to it for a solid thirty-six hours now.

Robin’s definition of important might differ slightly from his own, considering she hasn’t informed him of anything since yesterday, but that’s well enough for Steve. Maybe she has a point about not needing to respond to every text from Dustin within thirty seconds of receiving it, too.

She’s certainly right to keep him in the dark, mushroom style, every time he asks if Eddie’s called.

He’s stuck ruminating about it pretty hard when Robin elbows him in the ribs to get his attention.

“Him,” she says with all of the conviction Steve’s ever heard in her voice. He turns to follow her gaze until his eyes finally land on the guy in question, only a couple of barstools away from the table they’re huddled over together.

He’s not exactly an Eddie clone, but it’s close enough that if Eddie were to walk in while Steve was hypothetically talking to him, it would send a message for sure. He’s got dirty blonde, shaggy hair that’s not nearly as curly or long as Eddie’s, but also can’t be described as anything but a mane. He’s wearing a t-shirt for a band Steve’s never heard of and jeans that hug his ass so nicely that Steve’s almost tempted.

“I don’t think so,” Steve sighs and sinks further into the booth.

“Why not?” Nancy asks, and catches Chrissy and Robin exchanging a look. “What?”

“Eddie,” they say in unison, and Nancy gets a look on her face like sense has dawned on her once again.

“You’re still not fucking together, but you are still hung up on him?” Nancy rounds on Steve. “Seriously?”

“I—” Steve tries to respond, but Robin cuts him off.

“Well they’re fucking plenty,” she says, going the extra mile to rat him out fully.

“Rob,” Steve protests, giving her ankle kick under the table. Robin just shrugs while Chrissy snorts at their antics, used to them by now.

“You’re both so stupid,” Nancy grumbles before taking another swig of her drink.

Steve’s more tempted to go talk to the random hot guy now just to get away from the disapproving vibe at the table. The temptation only increases when he takes in the man’s hands—they’re strong hands, big and rugged like one of this guy’s hobbies requires some muscle out of them.

It only takes the man’s green eyes sliding over to watch Steve back, then an appreciative smirk lobbed in his direction, for Steve to make up his mind.

“He’s been checking you out for at least ten minutes,” Robin says, laying it on a little thicker. She’s lucky Steve is even willing to listen to her advice right now—and that this guy is attractive as fuck.

“At least he won’t give me shit over Eddie,” Steve grumbles at them as he goes to say hello. The stool beside the man is empty, so Steve slips into it easily and gives him one of the best Harrington Charm smiles he’s got on deck. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Woah, not even a pick up line first?” the guy asks, and his flirtatious smile is cute as hell, Steve will admit.

“Do I really need one?” Steve asks, tilting his head as he does.

“Oh, so he’s cocky and handsome,” the other man nods seriously. “Deadly combination.”

Steve laughs, and it’s easier than he expected it to be. There’s still a hole in his heart that he doesn’t know quite how to sew up tight, but having a drink with this man—whose name is Derek, he learns—and his easy smile makes it just a little bit easier to ignore for now.

He’s not really planning on going much further than a little bit of flirting, maybe exchanging numbers if he’s feeling reckless. He’s really not in a place to do anything but take whatever ego boost Derek’s willing to provide. Maybe that’s not fair of him, exactly, but Robin’s right about one thing, at least: he’s distracted enough not to feel completely miserable for a while. Steve lets himself get lost in the simplicity of it, finds the flow of flirting without the weight of confusion and a million what if’s weighing him down.

It’s all going so well until he hears Eddie’s voice clambering through the crowd, from somewhere around where the girls are sitting.

“What the fuck, Chrissy,” Eddie’s question carries, and Steve’s whole body locks up in tension in an instant.

“What?” Chrissy asks, sounding the picture of innocence. Nothing follows, so Steve assumes Eddie’s just making a face at her, since silent communication is one of their strong suits as well. Then Chrissy laughs and says, “Well, he has a type I guess.”

And oh, Steve’s not ready for whatever’s coming next.

“Did I just stumble into a scenario where you’re trying to make your boyfriend jealous?” Derek asks, and Steve really wishes he’d just stayed home.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Steve says truthfully, yet artfully leaving out some context. He doesn’t really think Eddie has the right to act jealous in the first place, so Steve thinks a little bit of bewilderment on his part is also warranted.

“Ex, then?” Derek guesses, still eyeing Eddie over Steve’s shoulder. Steve doesn’t have the courage to turn around and look.

“He’s just a friend,” Steve sighs at the truth of it, can hear the disappointment in his voice.

Derek can too.

“He looks like he’s thinking about kicking my ass,” he says, sounding less impressed by the second.

“He is not going to do anything—” Steve’s decisive reply is cut off by a hand on his elbow. He’d know that touch anywhere. It’s gentle but demanding, soft yet strong enough to fall to pieces for.

All of a sudden Eddie’s crowding between them, somehow turning one of his more charming smiles into a sneer sent in Derek’s direction. But then his focus lands on Steve, and for a moment it seems like the rest of the room goes silent.

“Can I talk to you?” Eddie asks, eyes almost begging.

Steve can’t believe Eddie’s acting like this just because he’s talking to someone else, can’t believe that for a minute he considers going along with it. He turns to apologize to Derek. “I’m sor—”

But Eddie’s already dragging him off by the elbow. Steve just barely hears Derek say something like, “Why am I always the one that makes them get their shit together?” to his friend before they’re both out of earshot.

Eddie leads Steve out the back door and into an alley beside the bar. He slips his hands into Steve’s back pockets, manhandling him until his back is against the brick and giving his ass a firm squeeze.

“Are you trying to drive me crazy, Stevie?” he asks, an unknowable and wild look in his eye.

It feels twisted even to think, but Steve isn’t sure if he’s more irritated or elated from this reaction out of Eddie. He wonders if he should have started flirting with other people in bars sooner, but he runs with the irritation outwardly.

“What is wrong with you?” he asks, ignoring Eddie’s question entirely. “Since when did you turn into a jealous maniac?”

“That was hardly maniacal,” Eddie scoffs, but there’s this desperate sheen overtaking his whole face that Steve’s never seen before. It quickly disappears behind one of Eddie’s many masks, but Steve still caught it. It’s enough to give his pathetic heart a little jolt of hope—hope that morphs into white hot flames that envelope his whole body when Eddie slips one hand around Steve’s front to grab his dick through his pants. He grins when he feels how Steve’s already getting hard. “I’ll show you maniacal.”

Then Eddie’s kissing him, as possessive and needy as Steve’s ever felt his lips before. There’s nothing soft about it. Every ounce of desperation he saw on Eddie’s face just a moment before is now cascading into the kiss, a hot clash of tongues and teeth like Eddie’s trying to devour him whole.

Because they don’t talk about their feelings, they only do.

Steve just wishes it didn’t feel so goddamn good.

He threads his fingers through Eddie’s hair and pours himself back into what little space is left between them. Eddie bites down on Steve’s bottom lip and growls, all grasping greed and bravado before he soothes it over with his tongue. Steve opens his mouth and lets Eddie in, just like he’s been doing all these months, can’t help it when he feels like all Eddie wants is for Steve to be his.

I am, I am, I swear I’m yours, Steve’s traitor heart chants in his chest, and he’s afraid Eddie can hear it in every beat.

Steve pushes further into Eddie until their chests are pressed together and hips flush. Eddie groans into the contact, rolls his tongue against Steve’s and slots his thigh between Steve’s legs. Steve grinds down onto him just as Eddie pushes up, not a care in the world for how they’re dry-humping in an alleyway like animals.

Steve’s panting he’s missed this so much, and it’s barely been a couple of days. He knows he shouldn’t (promised himself he wouldn’t), but he’s leaning into it. Then Eddie’s hand is on his dick, and he’s losing himself in a sea of want and need and touch and Eddie. Steve can’t believe how he’s gone from vaguely flirting with a stranger to fully hard in a back alley and breaking his promise to himself—to Robin, too—in about two minutes flat.

The thought of Robin snaps him back to reality and he pulls away with a gasp.

“We can’t,” Steve says, but not before Eddie’s already moved to kissing his neck, biting along the underside of his jaw next.

“Why not,” Eddie murmurs against Steve’s skin without stopping. Steve’s hips move of their own accord, grinding into Eddie again as he curses himself.

“Because,” Steve says weakly, trying to remember why he said that in the first place. Robin, some rational voice supplies in the back of his head. And your goddamn dignity.

Steve’s eyes fly open and his hands fist in Eddie’s shirt, which Eddie mistakes as a sign of excitement. He chuckles darkly against Steve’s neck, and Steve has to muster every bit of self control he’s ever had in his life.

“Eddie, stop,” he says, somehow managing to keep his voice flat. Eddie does instantly, before he looks back at Steve with that same quiet desperation in his eyes again.

Steve realizes he’s scared.

Eddie tries to cover it with a joke. “Not as into sex in public as last month?”

“Not into sex with you right now,” Steve clarifies, and somehow he finds the annoyance in his chest again, buried somewhere down deep beneath all the layers of lust. And love. Which is why he’s doing this, Steve reminds himself.

He loves Eddie too much to lose him over it—or to lose himself in it.

“What did I do?” Eddie asks, voice straining.

“Nothing,” Steve says, because it’s true. Eddie hasn’t done anything wrong, it’s Steve and his feelings that are all fucked up here. The only thing Eddie’s done is dare not to love Steve back, just like he promised he wouldn’t. But Eddie’s face is crumpling, and Steve can’t stand to watch it. It makes him a little mad that Eddie even gets to look heartbroken, when it’s Steve’s that’s shattering right there in between them. “I just—need some time to myself, Eddie. Okay?”

Eddie’s shaking his head already, though, and Steve’s scared he’s being too vague, that nebulous reasons won’t cut it.

“You keep calling me that,” Eddie says. He finally pulls away entirely, putting space between them that Steve feels like a knife in the gut.

“What?” he asks.

“Eddie.”

“That’s your name,” Steve deflects. He knows exactly what Eddie means, that Eddie feels as foreign coming out of Steve’s mouth as Steve does Eddie’s.

“Not from you,” Eddie clarifies.

Steve doesn’t know how to do this. He has to get out of there. “Just…not now. Okay?”

He doesn’t give Eddie the chance to reply before he turns on his heel and runs back inside.

At first Steve thinks Eddie’s not going to follow him. He goes back to the booth where the girls are sitting to find them all looking at him expectantly. He can’t try to parse what they’re thinking, how they might be judging the undoubtedly miserable look on his face, or if they’ve noticed the slight bulge in his pants. He grabs his jacket and tosses some money on the table before telling Robin he’ll see her at home.

It’s that time of night when cabs are already lined up and waiting outside for the drunks to come stumbling out, and Steve finds one with ease. He’s relieved that Eddie seems to have taken the hint and isn’t following him this time.

Steve thinks he’s managed to escape this mess in particular, at least. Avoiding Eddie’s texts and calls won’t fly, not now that they’ve fought over it. But Steve just needs the space to figure out what to do next. He knows he’s an asshole for running away, but he can’t help it in that moment.

He’s wondering why Eddie even showed up tonight, but he shoves the questions away for later. Right now he just needs to flee.

The driver just starts to pull away from the curb when the door opposite Steve flings open, and Eddie hops in the backseat. The cabbie looks startled, but satisfied enough to keep driving when Eddie slams the door shut behind him and turns his wild eyes on Steve.

“What the fuck!” Steve exclaims, because really. What the fuck.

“I need you to talk to me, Steve,” Eddie says. He’s right, the lack of a Stevie feels almost like a death sentence. “Stop avoiding the subject and tell me what’s wrong.”

“Because dragging me off in a fit of jealousy before storming my cab and nearly killing yourself seems like a healthier way to communicate,” Steve scoffs.

“You stopped answering my texts and literally just ran away from me, Steve!” Eddie throws his hands up in exasperation. “You’re not winning any medals there, either.”

“I haven’t stopped responding—” Steve tries, weakly.

“Oh, please.” Eddie’s laugh is a bitter one. “I know it’s been Robin texting me. I can tell the difference.”

Steve doesn’t point out that no one else has seemed to notice their little phone swap. Instead of trying to read into how well Eddie knows him, he tries to get back on track.

“Eddie,” Steve all but grits his name through his teeth. “When I said I can’t do this right now, I meant that.”

“But why can’t you?” Eddie asks, and as annoyed as they both sound, there’s a current of misery beneath Eddie’s tone that threatens to crack Steve’s heart into a billion shards of glass. “Yesterday morning everything was fine, Stevie. Then something completely beyond my control and knowledge seems to have happened to make you hate me, and you won’t talk to me? Or even look at me?”

“I don’t hate you,” Steve mutters under his breath. He crosses his arms and looks forward, trying to seal his lips shut before he says anything else that might bury him.

“What?” Eddie asks, and every precaution Steve has taken (and not) to avoid this moment has utterly failed him.

“I said I don’t hate you, alright?” Steve all but explodes. He turns to Eddie, who’s staring at his hands in his lap instead of looking Steve in the face. He just jumped into a damn moving vehicle, complained about Steve not looking at him, but now he’s only got eyes for the rings on his pretty fingers. Steve’s so wrung out, pulled taught with exhaustion from holding it in, he throws caution to the wind. Partly because he doesn’t know how else to deal with this, and partly because he’s lost his last bit of sense that’s been keeping it back. “Because I fucking love you. And you don’t love me like that! So I’m trying to unlove you as quickly as possible so everything doesn’t get even more fucked up than it already is, okay? There. That’s my terrible secret, Eds. Are you happy now?”

Eddie doesn’t look up, not right away, and Steve’s heart seizes in his chest. He can’t believe he finally said it out loud, can’t believe how it’s both a relief and absolutely agonizing now that it’s hanging in the air between them.

Behind the curtain of Eddie’s hair it’s hard to see for sure, but Steve still doesn’t think he imagines the way Eddie’s lips twitch.

Eddie finally looks up and Steve’s proven right—his smile is wicked but warm, and there’s a mischief dancing in his eyes where they were filled with fear just a moment ago.

It doesn’t seem like Eddie’s reacting poorly, but Steve’s not entirely sure what to make of it.

“That look in your eye terrifies me,” he admits, and Eddie just laughs. A delighted sound that pools in Steve’s belly and heats him through.

“There’s a fine line between terrified and turned on, Stevie,” Eddie practically crows. The teasing lilt of his voice has Steve’s stomach doing backflips.

“What does that even mean?” Steve’s pretty sure it’s not bad, but he really can’t be sure when his anxiety is blazing through his senses like wildfire.

“It means I fucking love you, too.”

The force of it hits Steve head on, sending him careening into a cloud of relief and shock and unadulterated joy. He stares at Eddie, gobsmacked, can’t possibly believe this is the outcome from finally admitting how he feels.

But he did. He said the words aloud, and then Eddie said them back. Tentatively, he reaches out for Eddie’s hand, brushes his fingertips across the back of it. Eddie smiles again, almost shy, and wraps Steve’s hand up in his own.

Then he pulls Steve in to kiss him.

It’s sweet, this time, careful like they’re afraid to tread on thin ice. But Eddie’s lips are the same as they ever were; and now they’ve gone and told Steve that Eddie loves him, too, so Steve cherishes them even more than with all of the other kisses that came before. Eddie squeezes his hand, smiles against Steve’s mouth.

“Can I take you home now?” Eddie asks. “I promise you can keep yelling if you need to.”

Steve laughs, and it’s the lightest he’s felt in ages. “Yes, please.”

He catches the driver grinning at them in the rearview a few times on the rest of their way home.

Steve’s hard-on only grows more urgent on their way from the car up to his bedroom, even though Eddie’s barely laid a finger on him. It’s the anticipation that’s getting to him more than anything, the promise of this night and many more to come.

Because Eddie loves him.

They’ve both already peeled their shirts and shoes and jackets off and discarded them along the way to Steve’s bed, and Eddie’s shoving Steve up against the bedroom door before Steve even has it closed behind them. Then he’s kissing Steve everywhere, his jaw, his chest, his mouth, like he’s checking that every fiber of Steve is real—that his loving Eddie in return isn’t some kind of mirage.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Steve asks as Eddie works on sucking a mark into his neck.

Eddie pulls back, searching Steve’s eyes for any sign that he’s joking—like he thinks the answer should be obvious. “I didn’t want to lose this. Lose you.”

Steve doesn’t point out the irony that they almost lost each other for the same stupid goddamn reason. Instead, he says, “I’m not going anywhere, Eds.”

Then Eddie’s kissing him again, feral, like hearing Steve say the words has awoken a new hunger inside of him. Eddie’s slender fingers move to take Steve’s pants off in a hurry, shoves them down just far enough to free Steve’s erection before moving to take off his own—he’s in a rush, and Steve can’t exactly blame him.

Eddie manages to get his pants down around his ankles before Steve can get hands on him. Steve spits in his own hand to add to the slick of precum already leaking out of the tip of Eddie’s cock.

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie hisses as Steve gives him a few firm pumps. But he replaces Steve’s grip as he crowds in closer, nudges his cock against Steve's in a slow but urgent slide. “Ah, shit—that’s better.”

Steve laughs through a moan, finds it cute that Eddie thinks he’s gonna stay in charge for long. For the moment he leans into it, though, grinds back against Eddie at his pace, accepting the sloppy glide of their cocks against one another just for a little bit of relief through the friction.

Then Steve’s cock catches Eddie’s frenulum at just the right angle, and Eddie lets out a strangled whimper that tells Steve they have to slow down. This is the first time they’re having sex after saying I love you, and maybe it makes Steve a hopeless romantic, but he wants to savor it.

So he grabs two fistfuls of Eddie’s hair and drags him in for a kiss, laps his tongue against Eddie’s and swallows down his shallow breaths with greed. Then he gives Eddie’s hair a tug until he’s looking back at Steve through heavy lidded eyes—they know each other’s signals so well by now that Eddie gets the message to slow his hips without anything more.

“What do you want?” Steve rasps before tugging Eddie’s earlobe between his teeth.

“Just you,” Eddie replies with ease, and Steve’s stomach swoops. Still, it’s an answer that won’t do.

“Use your words, baby,” Steve tuts.

“I am,” Eddie retorts with a playful whine. Steve looks at him skeptically. “I mean it! Are you really gonna boss me around when I just told you I love you?”

“Well, I did say it first. So, yeah,” Steve shrugs, nonchalant. It’s too easy to get Eddie worked up, he can’t help himself. “Plus, I’m pretty sure you love me because I boss you around.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie’s whole face softens, and Steve knows they’re not teasing anymore. He cups Steve’s cheek and somehow inches a little bit closer, until Steve can feel the cold metal of Eddie’s nipple ring pressing into the overheated skin of his bare chest. “I love you for so much more than just that.”

Steve melts into Eddie’s hands, wants to ask him to list all the reasons without sounding needy. Instead he decides they’ve got time, that right now he just needs Eddie, however he can get him.

Steve pulls him back in for a sloppy kiss as he moves them towards the bed. As soon as Eddie hits the edge of the mattress he sits, and Steve takes the break between them as an opportunity to get his pants the rest of the way off as Eddie does the same.

Eddie looks up at him, waiting, like Steve could literally demand anything in the world from him in that moment and Eddie would do it. He does wrap his hands around Steve’s hips and make a request, though.

“I want you to do something really devious, Stevie. I’m talking filthy stuff,” he admits. There’s mischief playing in his gaze, and Steve can’t wait to find out why.

“Oh?” he buys in. “What’s that?”

“I want you look me in the eye while you let me fuck you,” Eddie leans forward to kiss along Steve’s stomach, looking up at him with wide, pleading eyes the whole time. “I want you to see just how much I love you, while you tell me exactly how good it feels to have my cock so deep inside you that it feels like we’ll never be apart. Because I never want you to doubt it again.”

Steve holds Eddie’s gaze for a breath that catches deep in his lungs before he feels a slow smile take over his face. As if he could deny such a pretty face, asking so nicely.

As if he could deny Eddie anything.

“Lay back,” Steve instructs, and Eddie hastens to do just that. Once he’s propped up on the pillows, Steve grabs his bottle of lube from the bedside table and tosses it on the bed. Then he climbs in, straddling Eddie’s waist and sliding their cocks together once more just to get another breathy moan out of the beautiful man beneath him. He slicks his hand with lube before jerking Eddie off a few times with it. “You wanna watch me ride your perfect cock? Watch how good you make me feel while I come apart on it?”

“Fuck, Stevie,” Eddie hisses. “Yes, please.”

“What’re you gonna do for me?” Steve asks, likes drawing it out until Eddie gets whiny about it.

“Gonna fill you up, be so so good for you,” Eddie promises. “I’ll leave you full of my cum just so everyone will know you’re mine, and I’m yours.”

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect, Eds.” Steve smirks down at him, and Eddie preens. Steve uses more lube on his fingers and reaches behind himself, slicks his hole before slipping two fingers inside. He fingers himself just to make Eddie watch, delighting in the way Eddie’s cock leaks a little bit more when Steve groans at that first stretch his knuckles provide. Once he’s desperate for more, Steve leans down and grabs Eddie’s chin before licking into his mouth.

“Gonna ride you until we both come, but only if you’re good for me,” Steve murmurs, and Eddie shivers beneath him.

“Anything you want, Stevie,” Eddie agrees in a single breath. “Use me, claim me, I don’t fuckin’ care I just need—fuck—”

Eddie’s blathering begging is replaced with a high whine as Steve lines up his cock and sinks down onto it slowly, inch by inch until Eddie’s bottomed out and fisting Steve’s sheets like it might kill him.

“Shhh,” Steve soothes, even though he’s the one that feels so full he might split in two. He rubs careful circles around Eddie’s nipples while they both adjust, enjoying the way it makes Eddie twitch beneath him. Slowly, Steve leans down to lay more of his weight on Eddie until they’re chest to chest. The extra stretch of his hole around Eddie’s cock as he moves is so delicious, nearly consuming when coupled with the way his own cock gets a little bit of friction as it rubs against Eddie’s stomach.

Eddie closes the rest of the space between them, kisses Steve messily as his hands find their place on Steve’s hips. Neither of them move yet, happy just to feel each other for a blinding moment of anticipation.

Once Steve catches a little bit of his breath he leans back a fraction, brushes some of the hair away from Eddie’s face and just breathes him in.

“You feel so—” Eddie whimpers as Steve clenches around him, “—fucking good, Stevie.”

“You too, Eds,” Steve purrs, and Eddie grips his hips harder. “You ready?”

“For you?” Eddie’s eyes light up and his voice slips back into something velvety. “Always.”

Steve can’t help it, his cock twitches between them, leaves a fresh trail of precum leaking on the skin of both of their stomachs. He groans, fully aware he can’t take it anymore as he starts to ride Eddie’s cock. The wet slide of it is intoxicating, the way Eddie fills him up so perfectly it feels like they were always meant to do this. He stays pressed close to Eddie to start, setting a slow enough pace to drive them both wild with every roll of his hips. Eddie stays patient though, doesn’t try to speed Steve’s pace or even thrust up into him as he moves.

“You’re doing so good for me,” Steve praises as he sits up again, plants his hands on Eddie’s chest for better leverage. Steve’s cock bobs between them as he grinds his hips into a rhythm, and Eddie watches it and bites his lip like he’s straining not to touch it. Steve smiles down at him. “Look so fucking gorgeous beneath me, Eds.”

“Fuck,” Eddie gasps, squeezes Steve’s hips tighter as his hips finally stutter up at the praise. It’s barely a thrust, but it’s timed just right for Eddie’s cock to graze Steve’s prostate. Steve groans as he rides the shockwave of it, a hot gush of arousal straight up his spine. “Wanna touch you,” Eddie says, eyes pleading again.

Steve considers it for a minute, but slaps Eddie’s hand away when he takes Steve’s pause as permission.

“Not yet,” Steve chides, deciding to slip his fingers through Eddie’s instead to hold his hand in check.

“What about my other hand?” Eddie asks in a challenge, somehow managing to be a smartass in such a compromising position. He waggles the fingers on his left hand for effect, and Steve has to bite back a laugh. He does slow his pace down to a near stop, earning a pathetic little whimper out of Eddie in return.

Steve grins down at him sweetly.

“I could always tie you up instead,” Steve threatens with a raised brow.

“Tempting.” Eddie swallows thickly, gives Steve’s hand a squeeze. “But no thanks. Hold my hand, please.”

“Sap,” Steve smiles. He takes Eddie’s other hand in his own, too, before pushing both of them into the mattress beside Eddie’s head as he leans forward again, grinding his cock into the solid yet soft flesh of Eddie’s belly again.

“You started it,” Eddie grins up at him—a dopey, lovesick sort of grin that Steve really should have realized meant Eddie loved him back ages ago.

He can’t get caught up in that now.

“So you wanna jerk me off, huh?” Steve asks as he starts to grind down on Eddie’s cock again. Eddie just nods, biting his lip like he’s afraid he’ll say something bratty and make Steve stop again. Smart boy. “Gonna make you earn it, Eds. Use your pretty cock as a ride for as long as I want before you get to touch me. Before I say you can come, too.”

Eddie whines aloud, but doesn’t complain further. “Anything you want, Stevie.”

Steve hums as he presses down on Eddie’s cock again and can’t help but let out a low groan at this angle—knows he needs more.

“Go ahead and fuck me, Eds,” Steve locks his eyes on Eddie’s again, just like he asked for. “I know how bad you want to.”

Eddie doesn’t hesitate, fucks his cock up into Steve’s hole with a perfect, fluid motion that leaves Steve seeing stars. He can’t believe how well-timed Eddie’s thrusts are with hardly any leverage in his position. The drag of his cock inside of Steve is unbearably good, hitting his prostate over and over and leaving that tight ring of muscle burning and clenching for more.

Steve knows he won’t last long like this. And based on the mess of satisfied sounds falling out of Eddie’s mouth with every filthy, slick slap of his hips against Steve’s ass, he won’t either.

“Say it again.” Steve grits out the command through clenched teeth, holding on for dear life as he feels another dribble of Eddie’s hot precum inside of him.

“Wha—” Eddie sucks in a deep breath through his nose, like he’s fraying at the seams trying not to come apart before Steve tells him to. “Say what, Stevie?”

“You know what.” Steve licks Eddie’s top lip, keeps riding him without mercy. Eddie’s already a whimpering, needy mess. His cries are just about the most beautiful thing Steve’s ever heard—at least until the next words out of his mouth, anyway.

“Fuck—sweetheart, I—god I fucking love you so much,” Eddie groans.

Steve clenches to hear it, rolls his hips a little more on Eddie’s next push up inside of him. Eddie whines in that way he only does when he’s near tears, and Steve feels like he’s on fire. “What else?”

“What?” Eddie asks, desperately squeezing Steve’s hands, now. “Stevie, please, I’m so close.”

“Tell me what you need, gorgeous,” Steve coos, genuinely wondering which answer he’ll get out of Eddie.

“You, you, you, y—goddamnit—you,” Eddie babbles. “I only ever need you, sweetheart.”

“F—uck,” Steve hisses, his voice carrying the word out of control like a song with the next drag of his cock against Eddie’s stomach. “You’re such a good boy, Eds—” Eddie groans at that, a guttural sound that Steve feels down to his toes. “Love you so much, need you to come inside me.”

Eddie’s responding moan is so desperate, it’s almost violent what it does to his voice. His hips stutter, and Steve knows hearing the words affect him just as much as they do Steve.

Eddie doesn’t let go right away, though. Instead he nods at Steve’s aching, swollen cock between them. “C—can I? Please? Want you to come with me.”

Steve groans and just releases Eddie’s hands as his permission, wonders if the red marks he left between Eddie’s knuckles will bruise. Eddie’s almost giddy in the way he wraps his ringed finger around Steve’s cock, hitches his other hand to the curve of Steve’s ass in a tight grip to guide his movements.

“Go ahead, pretty boy,” Steve encourages. “Let me see you come.”

With Eddie’s cock buried deep in his ass, Eddie’s hand wrapped around his own cock and jerking him off in perfect strokes, Steve has to hold on not to come right away. But he wants to watch Eddie first, doesn’t want to miss a minute of him losing control. He watches as Eddie’s face contorts and his mouth falls open, drinks in every blissed out sound Eddie makes, rides Eddie faster and somehow keeps himself together until Eddie falls apart.

Eddie’s orgasm is shattering, leaves the very air around them buzzing with the force of it, and his whole body is shaking as he comes with a throaty scream. Steve feels the hot gush of cum inside him, feeling it pushed further in with every broken thrust of Eddie’s hips as Steve rides him through it.

It’s enough to make Steve lose his hold on the edge. He finally goes tumbling over into an all-consuming pit of ecstasy once Eddie’s grip on his cock tightens through the last gasps of his own high.

“Eds—fuck!” Steve cries. He manages to keep his eyes open to watch the spray of cum he leaves all over Eddie’s chest, the way Eddie opens his mouth to try and catch some of it like snowflakes on his tongue. It’s so filthy, so beautiful, that another searing shockwave crests through Steve, his whole body crackling with electricity as the next spurt of cum hits the corner of Eddie’s mouth and chin.

He laps it up greedily, and Steve whines as he watches, mesmerized. Eddie pumps every bit of pleasure out of Steve that he can, until the last fragments of his orgasm are an echo through his limbs and he’s nearly ready to collapse from it. Somehow, Steve manages to stay upright on shaking legs long enough to drag his fingers through some of the cum on Eddie’s stomach. Eddie’s eyes widen as he watches, anticipating what Steve’s next move is with ease.

Steve brings his fingers up to Eddie’s lips, and Eddie’s mouth is already open and waiting for them. Eddie moans around Steve’s middle and forefingers, swirls his tongue around them and lets his eyes fall shut like Steve’s cum is a full-course meal.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” Steve praises again, and Eddie hums before releasing Steve’s fingers with a slurping noise that makes Steve’s spent cock twitch pathetically between them.

“All mine,” Eddie says, wipes the last bit of cum from his chin and licks his fingers clean of that, too. “Will never get enough of you, Stevie.”

It’s unbearably sexy, but more than anything it makes Steve’s love-wrecked heart soar.

“Love you,” Steve murmurs, stroking Eddie’s face as he does. Eddie leans into his touch, and even though Steve can feel Eddie’s cock softening inside him, he wants to stay right there forever. “Can we stay like this for a while?”

“God, yes,” Eddie agrees with a low rumble, wrapping his arms around Steve’s middle and bringing him to lay against his chest. Steve goes happily, mess between them be damned. For now he just wants to keep Eddie inside of him for as long as he can, feel the stretch and the fullness and the cum leaking out of him in sated bliss.

“You were so good for me,” Steve tells Eddie, running his fingers through his tangled, sweaty curls. He presses soft kisses to Eddie’s face, revels in the fact that he’s not losing this—that he doesn’t have to go anywhere. “Gonna take such good care of you.”

It feels like a bigger promise than for just that moment, and Eddie hears it too.

“Love you, Stevie,” he whispers before catching Steve’s lips in a kiss. It’s languid, almost lazy with satisfaction. Once more Steve can taste himself on Eddie’s tongue, and instead of it leaving him feeling empty this time, he feels full to burst.

Steve’s not sure how long they stay like that, holding each other tight and unwilling to let go. But eventually Steve moves to get something to clean them both up with before they freeze or end up uncomfortably stuck together. There’s only a slight wobble to his gait as the best kind of soreness starts to set it, even if his legs are still a little shaky. When he makes it to the hallway—stark naked and still with Eddie’s cum leaking out of him—he notices the light beneath Robin’s door is on. Realizing exactly how there’s no talking their way out of this one, he keeps his dash to the bathroom short. He wipes himself down in a hurry before wetting a fresh washcloth and taking it back to Eddie.

He winces as he carefully closes the bedroom door behind him, because he knows there’s a good chance Robin will come barging in if she knows they’re done.

“What’s that face for?” Eddie asks, voice still sleepy.

“Robin’s home,” Steve says guiltily. “And probably Chrissy, too. Which means they’re gonna kill us, because we were loud as fuck.”

For some inexplicable reason, Eddie smiles. With all the conviction in the world he says, “They’re not gonna kill us.”

Steve gives him a confused look, but his curiosity unlocks his body enough to move towards the bed and start taking care of Eddie like he meant to.

For a moment, Steve tries to focus on wiping Eddie’s skin clean. Eddie watches Steve’s soft, deliberate movements as he clears the last of the sweat and cum from Eddie’s chest, careful to get the rest of the lube off the sensitive skin around his now softened cock. Steve’s slept with people who thought this part was gross, who hated the intimacy of sharing it with him. Eddie’s so comfortable, though, soaking in everything Steve does with such affection—no, Steve can say that it’s love now—that it makes Steve’s heart stutter a little happy tune against his ribs.

He loves that Eddie lets him take care of him, that Eddie takes care of Steve right back.

“You’re so good to me, Stevie,” Eddie hums as Steve finally settles back into bed with him. He thinks it’s some kind of minor miracle they didn’t wreck the sheets, too. Or maybe it’s a sign they didn’t try hard enough this go around.

“Yeah, well,” Steve smiles as he snuggles into Eddie’s side, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close as pillows his head on Eddie’s shoulder. “That’s ‘cause I love you.”

Eddie’s returning smile is so bright, Steve would happily go blind just to keep looking at it. “Mm, as luck would have it? Love you too.”

Steve kisses him with abandon, relishing the way he can leave his heart open and soul bared now. There’s still fear there—that things might go wrong somehow, that Eddie will change his mind and run—but knowing that Eddie feels the same soothes some of that ache, keeps it pinned to an undercurrent that Steve can choose not to focus on. Instead he can let the love float to the top, the way Eddie’s hands in his hair and lips pressed up against his own makes him giddy with the possibility of a future.

“What’d you mean, before?” Steve eventually asks. “Why won’t Rob and Chris kill us when they’ve been trying so hard to keep us apart?”

“Aha, but I suspect they haven’t been, not really,” Eddie says with an almost appreciative smile.

“Explain.”

“Chrissy definitely waited until you were talking to that guy to text me and ask me to come down to the bar,” Eddie says, and Steve feels his jaw drop open more than he allows it.

“She told you to come?” Steve asks, probably more surprised than he should be. “But the whole point of tonight was getting me away from you!”

“Pretty sure the actual whole point of tonight was triggering enough jealousy to make me break,” Eddie shrugs.

“Oh my god,” Steve says, realizing Eddie has it right. “Those schemers.”

“Absolutely conniving,” Eddie agrees. “But it worked.”

“Mmm,” Steve says skeptically, unwilling to give them all that much credit yet. Especially since Steve’s really the one who broke. He doesn’t get to make the distinction before a sharp, loud moan erupts from Robin’s bedroom, however.

Apparently Robin and Chrissy’s payback will be swifter this time around, and Steve wishes they’d taken the cab back to Eddie’s place instead.

Eddie’s eyes go wide as two more distinct voices follow the first. “Is that…?”

“Nancy,” Steve nods with equally wide-eyed realization. He isn’t grossed out by Robin’s sex life, and he knows she’ll tell him everything in the morning whether he hears it happening in real-time or not. He’s more concerned with the fact that he’s going to wake up with three expectant and smug faces waiting for an explanation in the morning, and he’s really not sure there’s any way to prepare for that. “Robin did warn me they might bring her home.”

“How thoughtful of her. Chrissy didn’t bother,” Eddie laughs, but seems willing to let it go as he presses soft kisses into Steve’s neck.

Another round of noises from the other room interrupts their flow, though.

“We’re going to have to come up with a system for choosing which apartment everyone goes to at the end of the night,” Steve points out with a pout. “Between us, and now them? The neighbors are gonna think we’re porn stars.”

Eddie laughs again, clearly delighted that Steve’s apartment has turned into the Horny Place. Steve can’t remember a time he’s seen him this happy. Eddie rolls on top of Steve and brushes two fingertips against his lips, a devious smile playing on his own. “Well, we might as well live up to it the rumors and give them a show, don’t you think?”

He kisses the pout off of Steve’s face and spends the rest of the night giving the performance of a lifetime.

please consider reblogging if you enjoyed! it means the world <3

[ollypopwrites]

So, I'll be having some minor surgery in a couple months. I thought it would be cool to have Gale worried for/doting on [reader or tav] before and after. idk if that's weird or whatever, but just the idea of Gale being comforting, concerned, and just loving as all get out would make me feel a lot more at ease with this whole ordeal. I hope this is an ok prompt to request, but I understand if it's uncomfy for reasons.

Oh, anon I’m so sorry you’re going through this. I hope I can give you even the smallest bit of comfort, and thank you for your request 💜 here is about 1k words of pure comfort and doting.

Books and Basalm [also readable on Ao3]

Tav x Gale [Gender-nooch Tav. No pronouns used for Tav and no descriptions of any physical features at all.]

CW/Tags: medical/hospital type situation (not detailed in any way). FLUFF. All comfort no hurt.

Despite having read everything he could get his hands on about the procedure, and asking the cleric so many questions Tav had to gently tell him to leave the poor man alone, Gale was not allowed in the room. He’d made his displeasure very known, but Tav had patted his hand in a clear signal to shut up. He physically had to bite his own tongue to prevent more nervous babbling.

“I think we ought to get started,” the cleric said to Tav with a smile. Despite his obvious disinterest in speaking any further with Gale, he at least kept his bedside manner for his patient.

“You’ll be here when it’s done?” Tav asked.

Gale knelt next to the bed, ignoring the crackling protest of his knees. “I’ll be on the other side of this door the entire time.” He pointed to the very one which he would be sure not to leave. “The Gods themselves couldn’t pull me away.”

Tav laughed a little at the dramatics and leaned into the gentle kiss he gave. After a few final kisses and another pressed atop Tav’s head for good measure, Gale pulled himself away. He stationed himself directly on the other side of the door, as he had promised. He was a logical man, he saw sense and reason before much else, but he was at his core quite prone to wild emotion despite his academic mind.

Leading up to that moment there was not much he didn’t do by Tav’s side. Even when they had been out on the road, while he never had much skill in healing magic, he had always been nearby enough to know what was going on. All he could manage this time was his assurance Tav had the best healers the city could offer and a tower over-prepared to accommodate the recovery.

It took hours. He didn’t notice irritated looks of the other healers walking through the halls when he began to pace back and forth, only stopping to lean his back against the wall and then have to move again once his mind took off. It was impossible to keep still for very long.

When he was finally allowed back in the room, Tav was still asleep thanks to a potion and the cleric was assuring him everything went fine. Once Tav woke up, they could make their way back to the comfort of the tower. While the cleric started giving instructions for recovery, Gale found himself cutting him off with his new extensive knowledge on the subject, watching the cleric grow annoyed at him again. Gale was used to people’s thinly veiled irritation at his volubility, but be it nerves or something else he couldn’t stop himself.

The cleric excused himself as soon as he possibly could, and Gale sat nearby, ready to be the first thing Tav saw after waking up. He mindlessly practiced somatic movements, he flipped through his spellbook distractedly and then mentally triple checked he had everything he needed to properly care for Tav back at the tower. To him, it felt like hours, but in reality it didn’t take too long for Tav to wake up from the sleep potion that had been administered for the procedure. Eyes blinking open, Tav groaned, and Gale jumped up to shush and soothe them.

“There you are, my love,” he said quietly. “How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Tav groaned. “Sore.”

“Completely normal,” he pressed a kiss to Tav’s forehead, “we’ll get you home and with a cup of tea for the pain expeditiously.”

“It went alright?” Tav asked.

“The cleric has no concerns,” he smiled, “all that’s left to do is rest and recover.”

The cleric came in for a final check in, making sure Tav was alright to head back home. The waiting was the worst part, Gale was certain they need not put off leaving where Tav could rest well and with whatever could possibly be needed. It took some creativity on Gale’s part to get them both safely back to their bedroom in the tower with no added strain on Tav, but he managed it.

Tara sat perched expectantly on the bed, head tilted in quiet examination. “Welcome home,” she said, tail flicking back and forth behind her. “everything went well, I hope?”

“Besides the pain, I think I’m alright,” Tav smiled tiredly.

“Tea!” Gale said insistently. “I have tea that will be just the thing.”

Gale got Tav situated in the bed, with pillows arranged for maximum comfort and support. He opened the window for cool fresh ocean air to come in, and Gale only left Tav’s side to prepare some tea with basalm salts for the pain. While he was gone Tara had settled herself gently against Tav’s side, purring away.

When he came with the tea, water and a potion of rest, Tav could have laughed at his over preparedness.

As Tav reclined in the bed, sipping tea, he sat at the bedside in an armchair. “Gale?”

“Yes, my love, what do you need?”

Tav chuckled at his earnestness. “I’m bored.”

“Ah, well, we have a treasure trove of entertainments,” he replied, “what better to soothe the pains of ailment and the pangs of boredom than a book!” He eagerly added, “what will you choose? A stirring tale of heroics? A dissertation on the merits of illusory spellcraft? Or perhaps an anthropological study on the courts of the Feywild?”

Tav shrugged, “your choice, really, I was looking for an excuse to have you sit and read to me.”

“You hardly need an excuse for that,” Gale smiled.

He grabbed the book he was in the middle of on his bedside table, something light for reading before bed. Carefully, he nestled in beside Tav, sure not to disrupt his perfectly calibrated arrangement of pillows made for Tav’s ideal comfort. Under his watch, with tea to soothe and a book, Gale felt sure Tav would be okay.

Two pages into him reading, Tav had fallen asleep with the tea cup precariously resting in hand. Gale plucked it away, giving a gentle kiss upon Tav’s brow as he leaned over to set it aside.

Thank you so much for reading! 💜💜