#tonight our fingers touch the sky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kookslastbutton · 4 months ago

Text

Too Late To Dream ༓ jjk (m) I Epilogue: Stargaze

✑ Summary: The topic of starting a family has been a vulnerable subject for both of you, especially over the past year as you've struggled to conceive. But tonight, under the blanket of the twinkling sky, your love proves stronger as neither of you is willing to give up hope just yet —and maybe you won't have to.

Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader

AU/Genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au, slice of life

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 4k+

Warnings: 8-year age gap, professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), swearing, mentions of past apprehensions of fatherhood, mentions of difficult past, pregnancy journey, and some sexual/suggestive content

Sexual/suggestive warnings: swearing, kissing (making out, neck kisses, etc), hair tugging/playing, sentimental tears, mention of pregnant s*x/c*ming

Now Playing: Heaven by Bryan Adams

a/n: About a year ago I started a series that I'm sure a decent amount of my readers are familiar with. It's one that will always stay close to my heart because of its very nature....it's simply touching for me. Anyway, I've owed everyone, including myself, an epilogue for quite some time. This can be read as a stand-alone, but I do recommend reading the series if you wish to have more context, etc.

Hope you enjoy 🥰

Series Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

Tonight, under the vast canopy of stars in the late summer night sky, you feel a peacefulness in your heart as you lie beside your husband of three years on a soft blanket spread out in the backyard.

The air is cool with the scent of freshly cut grass, and the stars shimmer like diamonds above you. You and Jungkook have always loved stargazing together—it's a cherished ritual that brings you closer, grounding you in the beauty and wonder of the universe.

"Look," Jungkook murmurs, pointing towards a particularly bright star. "That one's so bright tonight."

You follow his gaze, smiling softly. "Yeah, it's beautiful."

Jungkook turns to you, his eyes reflecting the starlight. "This is my favorite place to be with you, you know?”

“Mine too,” you reply, snuggling closer to him.

The gentle rustling of leaves fills the silence for a few moments before Jungkook speaks again.

“I’ve been thinking…about us, about our future," he starts.

Your heart skips a beat, sensing the weight of his words. "What about our future?"

"I want us to keep trying to build our family," he says earnestly, his fingers gently intertwining with yours. "I know it hasn't been easy, and we expected to be pregnant months ago, but I believe our time will come."

The topic of starting a family has been a vulnerable subject for both of you, especially over the past year as you've struggled to conceive. It's been filled with tender moments and heartaches, each negative test a painful reminder of the journey.

Countless visits to Dr. Kim for advice and reassurances couldn’t fill the void left by each disappointment. Yet, through it all, neither of you could let the anticipation and hope that have woven themselves into the fabric of your days and nights diminish.

"I believe it too, Kook," you reply, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you squeeze his hand.

He turns to face you fully, his gaze searching yours. "I've wrestled with the idea of becoming a father in the past because of my own doubts and fears. But now, I can't wait to be a father, with you by my side. Even if more challenges await us, I want to share this journey with you, every step of the way."

A surge of emotion wells up inside you as memories of the past two years together start flashing through your mind. It was after an unexpectedly sweet encounter with a toddler at the park while painting, that you first brought up the idea of having children to Jungkook. He was initially apprehensive, recalling that neither of you had considered children when you first married for various reasons. But he loved you deeply, so he promised to be open to the idea.

Together, you agreed that rushing into such a significant decision as having a baby wouldn't be wise, considering it was an entirely new venture for both of you. However, over time, through therapy sessions, ongoing exposure to children, and heartfelt discussions, you both gradually felt more prepared and ready to finally welcome this new chapter in your life.

"Jungkook, I…," you pause, knowing that what you're about to share is something you've been bottling up all day, a dream waiting for the perfect moment to be revealed. "I have a feeling things might be different this time."

His eyes widen in surprise, a spark of curiosity igniting within them. "What do you mean?"

You take a deep breath, your voice trembling with mixed emotions. "I mean... today, I took a test. It was positive."

Jungkook's breath catches in his throat, excitement dancing in his eyes before quickly filling with tears of joy. "You mean...?"

You nod, a couple of tears streaming down your cheeks. "Yes, Kook. We're going to have a baby."

In an instant, Jungkook pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. His laughter mingles with your tears as you cling to each other, overwhelmed with happiness.

"I can't believe it," he whispers, pressing a kiss on top of your head. "We're going to be parents."

You nod against his shoulder, the news feeling just as surreal to you as it does to him. "Together, Kook. We're going to be parents."

As you lie under the starlit sky, wrapped in each other's arms and the promise of a new life growing within you, you know that this night will forever be etched in your hearts.

"I love you, and I can't wait to meet our baby," Jungkook says softly, placing a gentle hand on your stomach.

"I love you too." Cradling his face in your hands, you lean in and press your lips gently against his.

With the first month of your pregnancy underway, joy overwhelms you as you and Jungkook share the news with close family and friends.

"I can't believe it! You're finally joining the parent club," Yoongi teases, a mischievous glint in his eye as he recalls his own experience with twin girls. "Get ready for sleepless nights and endless diaper changes."

Taehyung chimes in eagerly, "And I demand to be their godfather! I'll teach your child everything about art and creativity."

"Hey, I think I can handle that part pretty well myself," you playfully interject, gesturing to your personal artwork hanging on the walls.

Taehyung grins, "I suppose you have a point there. But seriously, if you ever need help with anything, you know I'm here."

Jungkook chuckles warmly and pats Taehyung on the shoulder. "Thanks, man. That means a lot."

Yoongi smirks, leaning back in his chair. "Your kid will have the best of both worlds Jungkook—__'s artistic flair and your… well, whatever you bring to the table."

"Muscles," you say with a cheeky smirk. "He'll bring the muscles."

The second month arrives fast, but it's not as cheery as the first. Morning sickness kicks in full force, testing your patience and resilience.

Jungkook becomes your pillar of support, always ready with ginger tea and comforting words.

"You're doing great, sweetheart," he reassures you, rubbing your back gently as you rest your head against his shoulder.

"I feel terrible," you admit, tears welling up in your eyes. "I just wish our baby was already here."

"We'll get through this together," Jungkook says softly, planting a kiss on your forehead. "And hey, at least we're getting really good at making ginger tea!"

You manage a weak laugh, grateful to have him by your side.

By the third month, your bump begins to show. Despite your mixed feelings about your changing body, you can't help but feel wonder and amazement at the miracle growing inside you.

"Look at this," Jungkook whispers, gently placing his hand on your belly. "Our little one is growing so fast."

You glance down at his hand, then back up at him with a soft smile. "I know. It's incredible, isn't it? Sometimes it feels like just yesterday we found out. I can't wait to meet them."

Jungkook nods, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Me too. I want to teach them everything I know. I wonder what they'll be like."

You chuckle softly, imagining the possibilities. "Who knows? Maybe they'll have your sense of adventure and my love for creativity. Or maybe they'll be completely different from both of us, which will be okay too."

He grins, pressing a gentle kiss on your belly. "We'll love them no matter what, no doubt about it."

It's the fourth month when you feel your energy returning and renewed optimism as morning sickness subsides. You and Jungkook take walks in the park, hand-in-hand, discussing baby names and nursery decor.

"I think we should go with a woodland theme for the nursery," Jungkook suggests, swinging your intertwined hands as the crisp autumn leaves crunch beneath your feet.

"Sounds perfect," you agree, smiling at his enthusiasm. "We could have little animal decorations and maybe even a mural of a forest. Taehyung hasn't been subtle about wanting to paint the room for us."

"Definitely," Jungkook replies, his eyes bright with excitement. "He'd probably add his own artistic touch too, knowing him."

You chuckle softly, imagining Taehyung's vibrant and whimsical style adorning the nursery walls. "That would be amazing. Our baby would have the most creative room ever."

As you walk, you discuss more details—what kind of crib to get, whether to use soft pastels or earthy tones, and even what kind of mobile would best fit the woodland theme. Jungkook talks about how he wants to try building some of the furniture himself, adding a personal touch to the nursery.

"I want our baby to know how much love went into creating their space one day," he says, squeezing your hand gently.

"I can't wait to see it all come together," you sigh.

Jungkook stops walking and pulls you into a gentle hug, resting his chin on top of your head. "I can't wait either," he whispers.

“Hey,” you say softly, pulling back slightly from his embrace to meet his deep coffee-black eyes. “What would you say if we went home and did something we haven’t been able to do for a little while?”

You then wrap your arms around his neck with a playful smile.

"You mean…sex?” Your husband's eyes widen as he begins to grasp the extent of your suggestion. “But would that be…”

“It’s safe,” you confirm, “Dr. Kim says it’s completely okay and lots of couples do it. No need to worry.”

Jungkook's prior concern washes away, replaced by shock the moment he hears the words drop from your lips. “You asked Seokjin about this?! Our friend?" His eyebrows knit together in confusion and mild disbelief.

“Well, why wouldn’t I?” You chuckle at how cute he looks. “He’s been our doctor for years, Kook. Why wouldn’t I ask him?”

“I know, but it’s…Seokjin.”

“Honey, come on,” you say, attempting to reason with the man. “Are you still mad at him for questioning your sexual ability all those months ago? When we asked his advice on how to increase our chances of conception? You know he didn’t mean it to be anything hurtful.”

“Maybe I’m still irritated about it,” Jungkook pouts. “I guess I’m being petty though. I know he was trying to help.”

“Well, in any case, he was wrong, wasn’t he?” You subtly gesture to your stomach. “Seeing as I’m pregnant with our baby.”

Jungkook's mood seems to lift again as his hands travel down to grip your waist. A playful grin spreads across his face. “I think we should go home now and see if we can prove him even more wrong. What would you say about us having twins?”

You laugh, easily reading between the lines. “Have you been talking to Kim Taehyung? It doesn’t work like that and you know it. You can’t just make love to me while I’m pregnant and expect two babies instead of one. B+ for effort though.”

“Damn, B+? You’re a tough grader, baby. Good thing I might know a thing or two of what you like to get that reaccessed.” He then kisses you before granting you a chance to respond, deepening it within a second.

You feel a tightening build in your core as his tongue smoothly invites itself to slip between the seam of your lips. And despite literally being in the middle of a park, you moan immediately, tugging at a few strands of his hair. A low groan elicits from him as you do this.

Thank god most of the people have left for dinner by now.

“No,” you suddenly mumble, breaking your heated kiss. “This isn’t how we like to do it. We need to go home. Please, let's go home, Kook.”

Jungkook merely smiles in response, takes your hand in his, and quickly leads you to the car where he drives you both home.

That night, as the brisk autumn wind howls outside, your husband doesn't hesitate to take the lead as he makes love to you with all of his being. And by the end of it all, when you both come, you can visibly see the dried tears on both of each other's cheeks.

"Looks like we're starting to turn into two cry babies," you break the silence first.

"I think so too," Jungkook replies, a tad bit breathless. "Is that okay?"

"Of course. As long as you're okay with it too."

"Can't think of a single reason for it not to be." Your husband buries his head in the crook of your neck, kissing your neck lightly. "I love you, __, so much if you couldn't already tell." He then looks at you and smiles, his eyes brimming with happiness.

"I love you too," you reply simply. "I always will."

In early December, during your fifth month of pregnancy, emotions run high as you start feeling the baby's first kicks. It's a touching reminder of the life growing within you, bringing tears of joy and occasional bouts of anxiety about the future.

"Feel that?" you ask Jungkook, taking his hand and placing it on your belly where the baby kicks again.

"Wow," he breathes, feeling the tiny nudges beneath his hand. "They're already making their presence known."

You nod, a mixture of excitement and nervousness swirling within you. "Seems like they're eager to join the party."

Jungkook grins, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I guess they heard about your cooking and couldn't wait. They've got good taste already."

You laugh softly, giving his hand a playful squeeze. "Let's hope they also inherit my better sense of direction."

He raises an eyebrow teasingly. "Hey, I've got great instincts."

You shake your head with mock seriousness. "You once got lost in our own neighborhood, Kook."

Jungkook feigns offense, but his smile widens. "Alright, fair point. But I promise I'll navigate parenthood better."

"It's a little bit scary, isn't it?" you say softly.

"It is," Jungkook admits, his grip on your hand tightening reassuringly. "But we'll figure it out together, like we always do."

In the sixth month, you and Jungkook find yourselves nervously seated in the ultrasound room, with you on the medical bed and Jungkook in a chair beside you. The doctor moves the wand over your belly. After a few moments of silence, the screen lights up with images of your baby. Both of you gasp in awe as you see your baby's tiny fingers and toes, their heart beating steadily.

"Everything looks perfectly healthy," the doctor announces warmly, pointing out different features and measurements. "Would you like to know the gender?"

You glance over at your husband, whose eyes are fixed intently on the screen. "What do you think?" you ask. "Do we want to know?"

Jungkook's gaze shifts from the screen to you, reflecting both eagerness and nervousness in his eyes. "I think… yes," he says finally, his voice filled with anticipation.

The doctor smiles warmly and adjusts the ultrasound wand, focusing on a specific area. "Well, it looks like you're having a…"

The suspense lingers in the air as the doctor takes a moment before revealing the gender of your baby. When they do, you and Jungkook can't help but grin at each other.

It’s a girl.

The reality of impending parenthood settles in deeper during the seventh month as you and Jungkook diligently attend prenatal classes together. The sessions are eye-opening, filled with valuable information, but they also serve as stark reminders of the challenges awaiting you both. There are moments of frustration and tears as you grapple with sleepless nights and discomfort.

"I'm so tired," you confess one evening, sinking into Jungkook's arms with a sigh, the weight of exhaustion evident in your voice.

Jungkook wraps his arms around you, offering a comforting embrace. "Well, they say parenthood is good practice for functioning on minimal sleep, right?"

You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to lighten the mood. "I think I need a lot more practice."

"You're doing an amazing job, baby," he assures you, his hands rubbing small, soothing circles on your back. "I'm truly in awe of you."

"Thanks, but I feel like a mess most of the time."

Jungkook shakes his head and gently guides you to look up at him. "If this is what a mess looks like, then I'll take it," he says softly, leaning in to steal a kiss.

In the eighth month, the physical strain of pregnancy becomes more apparent, introducing moments of fatigue and vulnerability. Everyday tasks like tying your shoes or putting a load of laundry in become increasingly challenging. However, with Jungkook as your husband, his attentive care shines through. He insists on handling all the chores without a second thought, from washing the dishes to preparing meals, often coaxing you to rest while he handles things.

"You really don't have to do all this," you protest with a weary smile as Jungkook scrubs a pot clean, his sleeves rolled up.

"I want to," he insists, flashing a reassuring grin over his shoulder.

You start to rise from the couch, still intent on helping, but Jungkook rushes over and gently guides you back onto the cushions. His touch is both firm and tender.

"Please, just relax, honey," he says softly, kneeling beside you. His hands find yours, warm and comforting, as he gives them a light kiss.

"But-" you begin, a hint of resistance in your voice as you look up at Jungkook.

"I know this isn’t easy," he says, his expression softening with understanding. "But let me take care of you, okay? I've got this."

You sigh, torn between wanting to ease his burden and accepting his offer of support. "I just feel like I should be doing more," you admit, your voice tinged with frustration.

Jungkook shakes his head, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "You've already done so much," he reassures you, his gaze unwavering. "Let me handle things tonight. Tomorrow, we can tackle everything together again, okay?"

His words soothe the inner conflict within you, and you reluctantly nod, knowing he's right. "Okay," you concede softly, “Thank you.”

In the ninth month, you're surrounded by friends and family who gather at your house to celebrate your baby shower. The room is adorned with soft pastel decorations and delicate baby-themed accents, reflecting the joyous anticipation of your impending newborn.

"Look at you, all grown up and about to be a dad," Yoongi teases Jungkook, earning a playful swat on the arm from his wife.

Jungkook laughs, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, I guess it's happening. Better start practicing my dad jokes, huh? Got any you haven’t used yet hyung?" He winks at Yoongi, who rolls his eyes in good-natured amusement.

Taehyung joins in, holding up a quirky baby outfit. "This would look adorable on your little one, don't you think?" he suggests with a grin, adding to the playful banter.

Jimin, always the entertainer, spins around the room, capturing everyone's attention. "I can't wait to spoil this baby rotten!" he exclaims with a mischievous grin, eliciting laughter from the group. "I'll be the best uncle ever, just you wait!"

Jungkook chuckles, wrapping an arm around you. "Yeah, we might have to keep an eye on Uncle Jimin's antics once this baby is born.”

Finally, the tenth month arrives, and you approach your due date with growing anticipation. One June morning, as you're bustling about the kitchen, an unfamiliar warmth between your legs startles you. Your heart skips a beat with excitement and a touch of nervousness as you realize what’s just happened.

"Jungkook!" you call out, trying to keep your voice steady.

Jungkook hurries into the kitchen, eyes widening as he sees the puddle on the floor. "Please tell me your water just broke and that's not just a spill," he says, his voice filled with a mix of concern and excitement.

You nod, feeling a rush of emotions. "I think so. We need to go to the hospital."

With swift action, Jungkook helps you gather your hospital bag and gently guides you to the car. The drive is filled with a mix of anticipation and supportive words from Jungkook, his hand firmly holding yours all the way. You focus on your breathing, trying to stay calm and centered as you prepare for the birth of your baby girl.

In the delivery room, surrounded by medical staff and with Jungkook by your side, you endure the intensity of labor. Hours pass in a whirlwind of effort and support, until finally, with a spirited cry, your baby girl enters the world.

As you hold her for the first time, a sense of overwhelming love washes over you both. "She's perfect," you whisper, tears of joy streaming down your cheeks.

Jungkook leans in for a quick peck before gently kissing your baby girl’s forehead. "Just like her mom," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe.

After much consideration, you both decide on the name Ara, a name that symbolizes beauty and grace, perfectly fitting for your precious daughter.

It's now mid-July, and the late afternoon sun bathes the living room in a soft, golden glow as Jungkook sways gently with Ara in his arms. It's hard to believe almost six weeks have passed since bringing your little angel home. Ara has recently started smiling, and you can't help but notice how much it resembles her father's. Her small frame seems even tinier against his broad chest now, her head nestled against his shoulder as if she were listening to the rhythm of his heartbeat.

Jungkook's movements are graceful and tender, his voice humming along to the lullaby as he continues dancing with your daughter. You lean against the doorway, a tender smile playing on your lips as you watch the scene unfold. Soft strains of a lullaby play in the background, blending with the sweet sound of your daughter's giggles while her tiny hands reach up to grasp Jungkook's fingers.

"Appa's dancing with you, sweetheart," you murmur, your voice filled with affection and pride.

Jungkook glances up, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of love and happiness. "She loves our little dance sessions, doesn't she?"

"She adores you," you reply softly, feeling a warm swell of love in your chest.

Seeing Jungkook, once uncertain about fatherhood due to his difficult past, now embracing your daughter with tenderness, fills you with pride. The love and devotion he pours into every sway speak volumes about the kind of father he has become – patient, nurturing, and utterly devoted.

As the lullaby reaches its gentle conclusion, Jungkook carefully lowers your daughter into her crib, tucking her in with a soft blanket. She coos softly, her eyelids fluttering as she settles into a peaceful sleep. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to us," he whispers before pressing a tender kiss to her forehead.

Later that evening, after a leisurely dinner, you find yourselves nestled on the couch in the cozy warmth of your living room. A single lamp in the far corner casts soft shadows across Jungkook's face as he idly traces patterns on your arm, lost in thought.

"Hey," you say softly, breaking the comfortable silence that envelops you. "What's on your mind?"

Jungkook looks at you, a faint smile playing on his lips. His eyes hold a glint of contemplation.

"I was thinking… about Ara."

You nod encouragingly, "What about her?"

"She's going to grow up so fast," Jungkook muses, his voice laced with a hint of sentiment. "And… I can't help but imagine her with a little brother or sister someday."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, a rush of emotions flooding through you. "You've been thinking about another baby?"

Jungkook nods, his gaze searching yours for understanding and reassurance. "Yeah. I mean, not right now, of course. But… in the future. I think Ara would love having a sibling to grow up with."

A soft smile graces your lips as you squeeze his hand gently. "I think so too. I'm sure she'd make a wonderful big sister."

He leans closer, his forehead brushing against yours in a gesture of intimacy and connection. "I just wanted to talk about it, you know? Make sure we're on the same page."

"We are," you assure him, "Whenever you're ready, I'm ready too."

Jungkook's lips find yours in a tender kiss, his touch gentle and reassuring. “I love you and I'm so happy we're finally starting a family. Thank you for making me a father."

a/n: Too sweet? Perhaps so, but it's how I roll 😎 haha anyway, if you were looking forward to a more detailed baby-making scene, well it's in the series so have at it lol. But now...I'm going to sleep. Maybe I'll open my requests for some more drabbles with the TLTD couple (or I'll make my own requests haha)

Tags:

@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper @ellesalazar @monbebe234-blog @parkinglot-nights @borahaexoxo @hobiswhore @kimseokjinbangtan @jjk97091 @mk-id @blueberry711 @givemethemaknaes16 @iammartian07 @jjkluver7 @itsdingdong @jiminshi20 @sweet-sourhotcoco @lubtou @lovingkoalaface @starsinsky1999 @rockstarrgyu @chaconnelatte @kaithezaftig @skzthinker @babystarcandykookie @glossyyyymin @siudema @justanotherkpopstanlol

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts au #bts fluff #bts angst #fic:toolatetodream #kookslastbutton

569 notes · View notes

lvnleah · 6 months ago

Text

Thunderstorm Cuddles | Leah Williamson

Summary: Leah comforts her wife and four year old daughter when a thunderstorm happens during the night as both of them have a fear of thunderstorms.

Notes: had this idea before bed so this was quickly rushed!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Thunder. Something you hated since you were a young age.

You laid in bed, staring at the ceiling as the rain tapped insistently against the windows. You always had been afraid of thunderstorms, the way the lightning splitted the sky and the thunder rumbled above you. Tonight, it was bad.

When you were a kid, your parents never comforted you during a thunderstorm and that’s where the problem stemmed from. You’d sit in your room alone, hiding under the covers with your childhood teddy as you waited for it to pass.

Your anxiety would overtake you, you’d silently cry as you prayed a tree didn’t fall down and crush your house. You didn’t know what caused it, maybe it's the darkness, the way it wraps around your little house, or perhaps it's the way you couldn’t control the unpredictability of it. You could never find a reason for your anxiety around it.

You tossed and turned, the rain drummed off the room of your and Leah’s house. The trees were blowing and you listened to the branches falling old the trees, each crack building your anxiety even more.

Your anxiety grew as you began to worry about your four-year-old daughter. Thunderstorms always felt worse ever since you’d welcomed her into the world.

She was three months old when you and Leah experienced a thunderstorm with her. You welcomed your daughter, Bea, in the summer so you hadn’t even had to worry about it.

Then October rolled around, thunderstorms began and Bea didn’t sleep through them. As she got older, you realised your fear had been passed onto her. As she grew older, it lessened but it was still there.

“Love? What’s wrong?” Leah mumbled, her voice laced with concern and tiredness.

"There’s a thunderstorm. I'm trying to ignore it, I really am," you whisper back, your eyes squeezed shut as tears started to brim in your eyes. "But it's so loud, Leah. I’m worried about Bea.”

Leah pulled you into her side and her hand instantly found your hair. Her fingers gently brushed against it as she held you close to her chest.

She shifts closer, her warmth seeping into my skin. "She’ll come find us if she’s scared or we’ll hear her," she murmurs. "It's just a storm. We're safe I promise."

"But what if it's not just a storm?" You can't help the panic in your voice. "What if it turns into something bigger, Le?"

Leah's hugs you tighter. "Love, you're safe. It's just rain and thunder. Nothing more."

You want to believe her. You really do. But the fear coils tighter, and you can’t shake it. "What if lightning strikes the house? What if—"

"Hey." Leah switches the light on and cups your face, her thumb brushing away a fallen tear. "Look at me. We're safe here. Our little house, it’s safe, I promise. Lightning won't touch us."

Just like that, her words become a comfort to you. You nestle into her embrace, your head on her chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heart. She strokes your back, her touch soothing, and you try to match your breathing to hers.

But then, a creak from the hallway. Bea stands there, her eyes wide in the dim light. "Mumma, I'm scared.” She whispers, her teddy clutched under her arm.

Leah sits up as Bea walks over to the bed. She lifts her up and makes room for Bea between you. "It's okay, bubba," she whispers. "Come here."

She lifts Bea up onto the bed, her tiny frame fitting perfectly between you. She curls into Leah, a total Mumma’s girl who always seeks comfort from Leah. "Why is it so loud, Mumma?"

Leah wraps her arms around both of you, creating a cocoon of safety. "It's just the rain, baby. When I was little, Grandma would tell me it’s the giants in the sky moving their furniture! Would you like some music?”

"Yes please Mumma, it's scary.” Bea frowns. “Wish they’d stop moving their furniture!”

You watch as Leah lets go of the pair of you, she reaches down to the draw and grabs her phone. She connects a pair of string earphones and brings up Bea’s playlist that she made when she was a newborn.

Gently, Leah places the earphones into Bea’s ears and plants a soft kiss on her forehead before planting one on yours. You tried music when you’d been in this situation before but it had never helped.

Bea snuggles tighter to Leah’s frame, sandwiched between the pair of you. Leah leans across and places a soft kiss on your lips, the thunder starts to settle a bit but you can still hear it.

Bea’s eyes slowly flutter closed and before you know it your little girl is asleep. Your heart melts at the sight in front of you.

“Try get some sleep, love,” Leah whispers, she looks down at Bea. “Our bubba’s out for the night.”

You laugh, “She looks so peaceful.”

“Maybe we should have another one, she’s perfect.” Leah smirks, making your ovaries want to burst open. You know she’s trying to distract you from the thunder so you laugh.

“Maybe,” you shrug, “maybe we should,” Her smirk replicates onto your own face. “Let’s save this conversation for the morning when we’re both awake.”

Leah talks to you for a little longer, taking your mind off of the weather outside, before you fall asleep in her arms. Just as you’re falling asleep you hear Leah whisper.

“I love you so much, gorgeous girl,” she whispers, brushing your hair back from your forehead, “can’t wait to extend our family.”

She places a gentle kiss on your forehead and you fall asleep in her arms, everything you ever wanted in life had come true. Your younger self who’d cry during storms felt at peace, the love she craved was finally being given to her.

#leah williamson fluff #awfc x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson one shot

502 notes · View notes

senualothbrok · 25 days ago

Text

Here

Summary: After you save him from Orin's clutches, Gale has some things to work through. You show him that he is not alone.

Featuring a fireside chat with Astarion.

A response to this anon ask. I hope you like it 💜

Word count: 2.1k

Non-18+. Mild hurt/comfort. Gale x reader/Tav.

AO3 link

A/N: You can watch Gale's reactions to being rescued from Orin's lair here (at 12.32) and here.

Thank you so much @dekariosclan for beta reading and being my marvellous Gale consultant, as always!

****

His scream tears you from sleep. It is shrill, piercing, a desperate flinch against untold horrors. You reach out for him as he gasps, clawing at his orb scar, choking for breath.

When you touch him, he thrashes, still caught in the talons of his nightmare. You see the scars left by Orin in his cloying sweat, his shaking frame, his subsiding shouts as he crumples into you. He cannot hide them from you, much as he tries.

“It was a dream.” You press his head against your chest, twining your fingers through his tangled hair. “You’re safe. You're home.”

He does not speak for a long time. His eyelashes flutter against your skin, his heartbeat jolting through you as he searches frantically for his glade of calm. When he eventually finds it, you feel his hands come to rest on the small on your back, steadying, anchoring. You hold him, torn apart by a gratitude as strong as grief. He is here. You could have lost him, but he is here. You will never let go of him again.

He clears his throat. When he moves back to look at you, his smile does not quite meet his eyes.

“My apologies, my love. I didn't mean to wake you–”

His voice is hoarse, broken. You shake your head. “You have nothing to apologise for, Gale. Absolutely nothing.”

He looks away for a moment. You know you have a brief opening, now, before the mask comes up, before the jolly dismissals and self-deprecating quips resume their well-worn routines. You place your hand on his cheek.

“Gale, you know you can talk to me, don’t you? Everything that happened–”

He jerks his head, taking your hand in his. His skin is clammy, and there is a hollowness in his gaze, though it is still tender as rain-kissed earth.

“I'm fine, Tav. Please don't worry yourself.” A brisk smile of reassurance, warring with the dark circles under his eyes. “Of all the things on your very full plate, my welfare is not something you need to burden yourself with.”

You are about to object, but the kiss he plants on your cheek is swift and firm. When he rises from your shared bedroll, you feel bereft.

“I'm quite alright. Nothing that a bit of fresh air and a quick walk won't cure.”

He combs his fingers through his hair, squaring his shoulders. The walls are up, and he is retreating into the night. Even as you ask, you know what his answer will be.

“Should I come with you?”

He huffs, bending down to kiss your forehead. “No, please. Rest. I deprived you of a good sleep tonight, and gods knows how many nights before this. I want you to take what rest you can for our battles ahead. I won’t stray far. Don’t worry.”

You cup his face tightly, desperately. “I love you.”

This time, his eyes smile before he turns away. “I love you too.”

*****

In the distance, streaks of dawn tease at the bruises in the sky. Sleep is a triviality that eludes you. You huddle around the campfire, fretting, trying not to mark the hours that Gale has been gone. Trying not to imagine all of the nightmares which were until recently Gale’s reality.

You fail. You think of how Orin must have flayed Gale’s mind from his body as he struggled, powerless and alone. You imagine his terror, not just of torture and death, but of the orb inside him. And you wonder whether he despaired as he waited, doubting that his love would come for him, fearing that his friends had forgotten him. Convinced that he was once again abandoned to die.

‘Of all the things on your very full plate, my welfare is not something you need to burden yourself with.’

You bury your face in your hands, a chaos of panic, love and guilt. It takes you a moment to register the presence beside you.

“Gods, you look awful.”

Astarion is peering at you like he is examining a torn gown. A trickle of blood stains his collar, the triumph of a late night hunt. He wrinkles his nose as he studies you.

“Do I need to have a word with Gale about laying off on” – his hand circles vaguely – “whatever it is the two of you do at night?”

You do not have the energy to glare at him. Instead, you glance towards the edges of camp, scanning for signs of Gale’s return. When you see nothing, you sigh. Astarion arches an eyebrow.

“Do I really need to explain why Gale might not be in the mood for that?”

Astarion tilts his head. There is understanding in the pause that follows. Astarion had been the one who helped you get Gale down from Orin’s altar, after all. He had seen the turmoil in Gale’s eyes, the blood on his limbs before the healing spells. He had felt Gale’s resistance when you both laid hands on him, easing him up. The fractured moments before Gale’s usual cheery gratitude snapped into place. Astarion would have recognised the signs better than anyone.

“He’s been having nightmares,” you manage. “But he won’t talk about them. He woke up screaming tonight. Then he went for a walk. He’s been gone for two hours.”

Astarion frowns. “If you’re worried for his safety, the wizard is more than capable of blasting people to smithereens.” He purses his lips. “Assuming he’s not magically restrained, like Orin managed–”

You wince at your rising dread. Gale is an archwizard, you remind yourself, not a defenceless babe. You fight the urge to smother him in care, to protect him and keep him safe at all costs. It is not what he needs. But perhaps you do not know what he truly needs.

“That’s not what I’m worried about.”

Astarion stares at you for a while. He leans back, brows furrowed, and you suddenly wonder if you give him enough credit. Perhaps there are things Astarion sees, despite his usual habit of deflecting things with thinly veiled insults.

“Sometimes, there are things that are better left unsaid.” He curls his lip. “Even for Gale.”

You ignore the barb, spinning towards him. “So Gale should just soldier on? Stiff upper lip, the show must go on? Even when he’s falling apart?”

“So dramatic, darling.” He tuts. “Who’s falling apart? He seems fine to me.”

You clench your hands. “The nightmares are getting worse, Astarion. Gods knows what Orin did to him.”

From the feathering of Astarion’s jaw, you know he can guess.

“And he won’t talk to me. Like he doesn’t want to be a burden. Like he’s sorry…” You scoff. “As if it’s his fault, that he’s the one who let me down.”

Astarion narrows his eyes. “If you’re suggesting that it’s your—”

“No, no,” you huff. “No, this isn’t about me. It’s about Gale.”

Astarion sighs. His gaze is weary as a scar.

“Some things are too horrific to share, darling. So atrocious that it’d be a nightmare to even hear them. He just needs to grit his teeth and get through. Survive.”

You struggle to keep the anguish from your voice. “Does he have to do that alone?”

Astarion’s mouth tightens. He averts his gaze. “Maybe that’s what he’s used to.”

You are taken aback by the resignation in Astarion’s words. Conviction rises in you, an unstoppable tide that weaves through the tents of each and every member of the family you have found.

“But he isn’t alone anymore. He doesn’t have to keep it to himself. He isn’t a burden, and there’s nothing he could do or say to drive me away. I’m here for him. We’re all here for him.”

There is a quiver in Astarion’s features. You have a sense of a door cracking open. A glimpse of something ancient and hidden.

“It takes a while,” he says quietly. “To get used to that. To believe it.”

The silence that falls over you is both heavy and light. Within it, a lifetime of loneliness and fear crashes against the battle-forged bonds of love and friendship. And you believe, with every fibre of your being, that love will endure.

Astarion jerks his head behind you. You turn, your eyes filling as they fall on what they seek.

“But if anyone can remind him,” you hear Astarion chuckle, “it’s you.”

*****

When you return to Gale’s tent, you try to settle him, but he is a flurry. His movements drag with exhaustion, yet are manic with determination.

“Is there something I can get you to help you sleep? A cup of tea? A warming spell? Do you need a–”

You embrace him. His breath catches, and you clasp him so close you can feel the points of muscle and bone. The weight of him, the miracle of him beside you. You will never take him for granted.

“Just you,” you whisper. “Here, with me.”

His lips tingle against your neck, his grasp tightening around your waist. For an eternity, neither of you let go. You are haunted by the shadow of your separation, chasing away Orin’s ghost with the strength of your need. When he dips back, his brows are steepled with concern.

“You’re troubled.” He traces his thumb across your jawline. “What troubles you?”

After all this time, he still does not understand. He cannot see how someone could love him so deeply that his pain becomes their own. He still cannot believe that someone could respond to his love by giving him their whole heart. That you could love him as he loves you. An outpouring of the soul. A sacred offering, steadfast and unending.

“That you’re troubled.” Your fingers interlace with his. “That you think your struggles are a burden to me - that I wouldn't want to share everything with you, including your suffering.”

He grimaces so sharply, it is almost a flinch.

“My love,” he heaves. “You quite literally have the weight of the world on your shoulders. It torments me to know I’ve added to that load, rather than easing it. If I weren’t such a fool to fall for Orin’s trap–”

You shake your head. The force of it stills him.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Gale. What happened wasn’t your fault. And what you’re going through now…You don’t have to pretend that everything’s alright. I know it isn’t. I hear it, I see it, every day, every night.”

His eyes widen, the wrinkle between them deepening. You sense the knee-jerk apology that bubbles within him. Your grasp his hand tighter, the words tumbling from you like the sea surging against the shore.

“I love you. I’m here for you. I’ll never abandon you, no matter what happens. You can tell me anything. Everything. Whatever you want. And you can trust me, just like I trust you. Just like I know you love me, and will always be there for me.”

For a while, he does not speak. His gaze roams your face, searching for signs of doubt, hesitation, disapproval. But all you can give him is love.

You draw him back, sinking down to your bed roll. He softens as you curl into each other, his arm wrapping around your body. Your head nestles between his neck and shoulder, and you breathe in the sour tang of his sweat. He inhales deeply, nuzzling into your hair. Memorising you, just as you are soaking him in.

“You kept me alive, you know,” he whispers. “When Orin toyed with me, tore at me. The thought of you, your courage, your kindness. Your love. She could never break me, no matter what vile cruelties she inflicted. I had you.”

Your tears trail into the nook of his collarbone. His voice trembles.

“My foolishness, my carelessness… it could have got you killed. And when you saved me – when, yet again, you saved me from the precipice – I resolved to do better. I told myself the least I could do was cause as little hassle as possible.”

You lurch forward, your vision a blur as you take his face in your hands.

“Gale,” you breathe. “I love you more than anyone and anything. You are not, and will never be, a hassle. A burden. Never. You're the man I love, and you're everything to me.”

His eyes are bright as he brushes away your tears. You watch the shadows lift from his features as the truth of your heart washes over him, wave by wave. Slowly, reverently, he presses a kiss to each of your palms, holding them against his cheeks.

“What have I done to deserve you?”

There is awe in his voice. Wonder. And shimmering within it, the beginnings of acceptance.

You lean forward, circling the tip of his nose with your own. He lets out a shaky breath, his hands weaving around your back, pulling you closer.

“You don't need to do anything. Just be here, with me.”

You smile into each others’ lips, two rivers joining in the sea.

“I can do that.”

********

A/N: Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! I'd love to know what you think as always, so don't be a stranger 🫶

Liked this fic? Check out my other work

187 notes · View notes

munson-blurbs · 1 year ago

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!Reader Series

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

Summary: June brings the end of Harris's preschool career and the official beginning of your new life as a family of three--with a little help from your friends, of course.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), oral (f! receiving), p in v, mentions of phone sex, grief and loss

WC: 7.8k

Chapter 20/20

A/N: With the official end of Trapped Under Ice, I am now opening up requests in the TUI universe. Thank you all for taking this journey with me as I processed my own grief. As long as you keep requesting, I will continue writing for our little family 💚

Thank you to @rip-quizilla for making that scene stronger. Ily, bb.

Divider credit to @saradika

The diner is bustling with customers, happily chatting over stacks of pancakes and overstuffed omelets. Coffee carafes clink against chipped mugs as the waitstaff pours refill after refill.

You weave through the rows of tables, careful not to bump into servers balancing trays of food or busboys carrying the used dishes and silverware. A small yellow gift bag is clutched in your hand, and you hold it to your chest to protect its fragile contents.

Harris spots you before you can see him; his little arm shoots up from where he’s tucked into the booth next to Wayne.

“Ms. Sweetheart!” he frantically waves, his grin wide enough to stretch off of his cheeks. “Over here!”

You laugh, watching as Eddie scoots from the middle of the seat to the end, making room for you to sit down. There are two steaming cups on his side of the table, centered on little saucers that are likely older than you are.

“Morning, baby,” he greets you with a smile, leaning in to give you a small kiss—no tongue, of course—as you slide in next to him. “You sleep okay last night?”

You nod sheepishly, remembering the phone conversation the two of you had had, well after Harris fell asleep. Eddie’s sultry voice had guided you through touching yourself; the next-best thing to having his own fingers inside you.

“Wish I could be there right now,” he’d murmured into the receiver, so low that you could barely hear him. The faint sound of his own fly being lowered punctuated his words. “Wanna make you feel so good, Sweetheart, but I know you’re being a good girl f’me tonight, aren’t you?”

You bring the coffee mug to your lips, hoping to blame the heat creeping up your face on the drink, and take a hearty sip. It’s a little sweet, but mostly bitter. Just how you like it.

The crinkling tissue paper as you lean back in the booth draws your attention to your company and away from your indulgent memories. “Happy Father’s Day, Eddie,” you kiss him on the cheek, your lipstick tinting his stubble pink. “This is from me and Harris. Be careful with it.” There’s a deliberate vagueness in your warning, not wanting to spoil the surprise.

Eddie cocks his brow, clearly not expecting any sort of present from you. Shocking, considering you’d taken Harris to the Paint-n-Play on Wednesday during your usual tutoring session time, and you’d figured he would have spilled the beans as soon as he and his dad had a moment alone. He rustles around the bag with dramatic flourish, trying to build anticipation but only succeeding in testing Harris’s patience.

“Open it, Daddy! Open it!” Harris bounces up and down in his seat, mouth sticky and teeth tinted purple with grape juice as he urges Eddie to stop dragging out the process. Wayne discreetly places his palm behind his grandson’s scalp, protecting his head in case he rocks too far back. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart did it together!”

“You did, huh?” Eddie chuckles, pulling out a ceramic mug. It’s painted sky blue, and Harris had insisted on making purple polka dots, splotchy as he’d haphazardly dunked the brush in paint and pressed it to the plaster. Written in bright orange blocky letters is DAD; you’d helped him sound out duhh-ahhh-duhh, his little tongue poking out in complete concentration. Your only visible contribution is the tiny green 1997 painted along the handle, marking the first year you’d celebrated Father’s Day together.

The multitude of complementary colors and mismatched designs should clash. The dots look more like disfigured spiders than circles. The 7 you’d carefully written with a fine-tipped brush is slightly smudged from where Harris had picked up the mug before it had fully dried, and there’s an extra curving line extending from the first D in DAD after he’d started writing the letter backwards.

To Eddie, it’s perfect.

“I love it.” Brown eyes find his son’s hopeful gaze that eagerly awaits his father’s reaction. “This is the best present I’ve ever gotten.” He places the mug on the table next to the coffee-filled one in front of him, tipping its contents into his gift. A few drops dribble down the side, but most of it ends up where it should. A success, in his opinion. He takes a hearty gulp, not caring that the hot liquid singes his taste buds. “Is this magic?” He holds the mug up to his face, studying it like it’s a precious stone. “Because, I swear, it makes this coffee taste better.”

The little boy beams, exchanging an elated glance with you. “Ms. Sweetheart, did you put magic in it?”

Eddie chimes in before you can respond. “I bet she did. She’s sneaky with it; always sprinkling it where you least expect.” His empty hand finds your thigh underneath the table, silently claiming it as his own. “I don’t know how she does it,” he muses wistfully, adding another sugar packet to the mug and swirling it with a spoon until it’s dissolved. Like it was always part of the coffee from the jump.

“Speaking of presents,” Wayne chimes in, unearthing a tiny, newspaper-wrapped package from his jacket pocket and handing it to his nephew. “‘S, not much, but it’s a Father’s-Day-slash-housewarming gift for ya.”

“I thought we agreed on no gifts,” Eddie shakes his head, suddenly self-conscious about arriving empty-handed.

“Well, I lied.”

Wayne watches as Eddie tears into the paper. Whatever home run or double-header had made the front page of the sports section is irrelevant compared to the mystery item that is snugly tucked between baseball stats and the upcoming game schedule.

A small gasp leaves his mouth as he unwraps a wallet-sized picture frame; the word family is etched into the wood right above the plastic-protected photo.

It’s from Harris’s bowling party; the one Wayne had taken of you and Eddie on either side of the birthday boy. Happiness radiates off of the three of you with such intensity that it seems impossible for it to be captured in a still frame. He’d forgotten that Wayne had even snapped it.

“Wayne, I…” Eddie struggles to find the words he needs to properly convey his feelings. The tip of his nose burns with the anticipated influx of emotions. “I’m gonna put it right next to my alarm clock, so it’s the first thing I see every morning.”

You lay your head on his shoulder, the edge of his lips finding your forehead in a half-kiss. He soaks in the comfort you bring, absorbing it through every pore as he exhales and feels himself relax.

The waitress comes over with a notepad and a smile. “You folks ready to order?” She clicks her pen, poised to jot down what the four of you want to eat.

“Chicken fingers, please!” Harris announces, perching up on his knees and leaning his elbows on the table. “With French fries!”

The waitress, whose name tag reads Bee, offers a sympathetic smile and a soft click of her tongue. “I’m sorry, buddy. We don’t start serving lunch until 11:30.”

The boy’s lower lip quivers at the news, having his heart set on eating his favorite food. You can see his perfectly curated routine begin to crumble, taking his excitement with it. “But…but I even said ‘please!’” he insists, voice cracking.

You step in quickly, wanting to salvage the Father’s Day celebration before Hurricane Harris can brew up a storm. “Hey, Har, I know you’re disappointed about the chicken fingers, but I have a super special idea.”

“Wh-What?” Misty eyes indicate that tears still threaten to spill over his lashes.

“When Grandma used to take me to the diner, we used to split silver dollars. They’re pancakes, just smaller.” You take a deep breath and smile, hoping and praying that your plan works. “Would you like to share some silver dollars with me? And we can come back and get chicken fingers another time.”

Harris considers your proposition, rubbing his hands together along his knuckles to soothe himself. Finally, he says, “Can we eat them with syrup?”

“That sounds delicious.” You lean over and ruffle his hair, careful not to let any loose strands land on the table. “You wanna tell the waitress?”

“Mmkay,” he nods, turning to Bee and smiling. “Me an’ Ms. Sweetheart are gonna have the, um, little pancakes.” He frowns, unable to remember the dish’s name. “The dollars?”

Bee laughs and nods, jotting it on her notepad. “An order of silver dollar pancakes, coming right up. And for you gentlemen?” She brings her attention to Eddie and Wayne.

The older man clears his throat, ordering a Western omelet with home fries and rye toast. Eddie asks for the same but with white bread. “And a refill on the coffee,” he adds.

Bee promises to be back shortly with the food, and the four of you resume your conversation.

“We’ll get to take a new picture next week at someone’s graduation,” you say with a smile, looking in Harris’s direction. “Are you excited, Har Bear?”

Harris takes another messy sip of grape juice. “Uh-huh. I’m gonna go to kindergarten soon! But first is summer.”

“Summer first, then kindergarten,” you agree, sipping your coffee before it gets cold. You’re no stranger to it, often setting down your to-go cup at work and forgetting about it until well after morning circle time, but you relish any chance you get to enjoy it while it’s still warm. “I was thinking: once you and Daddy are all moved in, we should make plans for this summer. Like the zoo, or the pool…”

“Yeah!” Harris claps his hands together and grins. “Or Disney World!”

Eddie’s ears perk up at his son’s suggestion. “Not this year, but maybe soon.” If he can continue moving up the ranks at the record store, coupled with the two of you splitting rent, it might even happen next year, but he doesn’t want to make a promise he can’t guarantee he’ll keep. “And we’ll drag Grampa Wayne with us.”

Wayne responds with a shake of his head. “You’re outta your mind if you think I’m goin’ on any of those roller coasters.”

“You’re gonna sit and ride It’s a Small World the whole day?” Eddie teases, leaning back in his seat.

“Damn straight.”

The food comes out ten minutes later, steaming plates carefully placed on the table. You cut the silver dollar pancakes into bite-size pieces, pushing half to the side nearest Harris and the other half closest to you. A glass syrup carafe waits to be used, its handle sticky with residue.

“Say when,” you tell Harris, drizzling it back and forth across the plate. He waits until the pancakes are drenched before stopping you.

You watch as he uses his fork to spear some pancake, pops it in his mouth, and chews thoughtfully. “It’s yummy!” he declares triumphantly, already scanning the plate for his next piece. “This is my favorite food ever!”

You, Eddie, and Wayne share smiles; none of you take his declaration too seriously, knowing he changes his favorite anythings on an hourly basis. Still, a win is a win, and avoiding a chicken finger-induced tantrum is no small feat.

Eddie spreads a pat of butter over his toast, but his eyes never shift from you and Harris sharing breakfast. You’d asked him whether he prefers blueberries or chocolate chips in his pancakes, and the discussion quickly devolved into a competition to see who could come up with the grossest pancake addition.

“How about…” Harris wiggles his nose, “broccoli pancakes?”

“Ew!” You stick out your tongue in disgust. “That was a good one, but I think I can top it. Would you eat…” you tap your chin in contemplation, “fish stick pancakes!”

Harris squeals, far from an inside voice, but no one wants to correct him. “That’s super yucky! Fish stick pancakes?!”

Eddie smiles, tucking into his own food. He wants to savor the joy, the warmth. The twinkle in Wayne’s eyes, the upturned corners of Harris’s lips, the trill of your laugh. He wishes he could capture the feeling, but a mental image will have to do.

He inhales and allows himself to be wrapped in the unconditional love he had once convinced himself he didn’t want nor deserve.

The Hawkins Preschool cafeteria has once again been transformed. The custodians folded the long tables, propping them against the wall, and set up rows of folding chairs, leaving a small aisle for the graduates’ families to find their seats.

Other parents stare as Eddie walks in, perspiration prickling under his arms as he hears them whispering about the kid who ran away. It’s audible enough for Wayne to hear; he rests his hand on his nephew’s shoulder and gives it a small squeeze before they take their seats.

Jeff and Dustin arrive a few moments later, noticing Eddie and Wayne in the small crowd and shuffling over. Eddie pulls them each in for a quick hug, and Wayne does the same.

“Glad we made it,” Dustin says with a sigh of relief. “My flight got delayed half an hour, but we made up the time in the air.”

Jeff rolls his eyes. “It didn’t help that we had to stop at a payphone so you could call your precious Suzie-Poo,” he huffs, but there’s a glimmer of a smile on his lips, proud of the way his friend cares so deeply for his partner. “Anyway, we’re here now.” He takes a seat next to Wayne, shifting so he can speak to Eddie. “Is Harris excited to graduate?”

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie laughs, shaking his head at the recent memory of his son prancing around the apartment that morning in his cap and gown, small body drowning in the flowing green fabric. In that instant, Eddie could picture him as a young man, crossing a much larger stage to receive his diploma from Hawkins High. If Higgins is still the principal, Eddie might have to teach Harris the family tradition of flipping him off.

Sue Sinclair makes her way up the small staircase to the podium, adjusting the microphone so she speaks into it easily. “Good morning, parents, siblings, and other special guests. Welcome to Hawkins Preschool’s Moving Up ceremony.” She beams, holding for applause. Eddie eases back into his seat; he’s known Principal Sinclair for years, since Lucas had joined Hellfire, and she’d recently stepped up to take over teaching Harris’s class for the remaining weeks of the school year. After the little boy had given his statement to the police, Marion and Paula’s teaching licenses had been immediately terminated, and negligence charges were currently pending.

“Before we get started, I’d just like to make an announcement.” Sue Sinclair looks over to where your class is standing, patiently waiting their turn to receive their sticker-laden diplomas. “I am pleased to announce that our very own Mr. Will Byers,” she extends her hand in Will’s direction, “will be our newest head teacher starting this fall.”

Though everyone in attendance is clapping, it’s obvious that Eddie, Wayne, Jeff, and Dustin cheer the loudest. Will blushes red, unused to being the center of attention, but the smile on his face shows how excited he is to take on this new role. You wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind and pull him in for a proud hug.

“Our students have worked incredibly hard this year, learning their letters, numbers, and how to be a good friend,” the principal continues. “And though we will miss them dearly, we are thrilled to send them off to kindergarten with these new skills. So, without further ado, let’s bring out our graduates!”

The ceremony begins, starting with your class. You stand at one end of the stage, sending each student off to where Will is waiting at the other end as Principal Sinclair reads out each of their names. They take their certificates and pose with baby teeth on full display while their parents snap photos from disposable Kodaks and bulky Nikons. All the seemingly endless days, the menial fights over sharing toys; every moment was worth it if it led to this.

You usher the kids to their seats in the front row after your final student’s name is called, spotting Eddie in the crowd as you sit down. He winks, the corner of his eye mischievously crinkling. You smile, taking full advantage of the other parents’ distractedness and give him a little wave; the exchange a private love letter.

Both of you bring your attention back to the stage when Sue Sinclair calls up the next class. Harris stands towards the center of the line, excitement buzzing through him at a rate that cannot be contained. He rocks from the balls of his feet to his heels, back and forth as he awaits his turn. His brown ringlets poke out from underneath his cap, grazing just above his eyebrows.

Principal Sinclair pauses, looking directly at Eddie when she speaks. She understands the gravity of this accomplishment, her lipsticked smile reaching her eyes as she leans in towards the microphone.

“Harris Munson!”

Eddie jumps up, hollering as loud as his vocal cords will allow. Harris accepts his diploma and smiles wide, both at his accomplishment and at the sound of his dad cheering him on. His expression further brightens when he sees Wayne, Dustin, and Jeff beside him, and he waves while jumping up and down.

He’s supposed to walk from stage left to stage right, just as all the students before him have done; in typical Harris fashion, he takes the road less traveled. With a mighty leap, he catapults himself off of the stage and makes a beeline straight for you.

Two little arms wrap themselves around you, squeezing you as tight as they can. The brim of his cap is flush against your cheek. “I did it, Ms. Sweetheart!” His words carry a lightheartedness that only a child’s joy can bring. “Did you see?” He picks his head up from where it was nestled against you and giggles, dimpled chin brushing your bicep.

You tilt the mortarboard slightly upward and press a kiss to his forehead. “I saw, Har,” you tell him, using your thumb to wipe away your lipstick print, “and I am so, so proud of you.” Readjusting his cap, you usher him over to where the rest of his class is standing, a garden of happiness blooming within you.

You look back at where Eddie is sitting, wishing you could sit next to him, fingers laced together while his thumb caresses the side of your hand and grasping your hand tighter when Harris’s name is called. For now, it’s enough to know that you’ll be by his side throughout all of Harris’s future endeavors and accomplishments. A team.

Eddie’s palms press into his slack-covered thighs as he peers over at you and grins. Bright, adoring eyes meet yours, speaking every thought that his mouth can’t say right now. I love you. Thank you. We couldn’t have done this without you.

You accept the wordless praise with a smile, one that reaches beyond its usual confines.

Dustin notices the small exchange, and he nudges Eddie’s ribs with his elbow. “She’s the one, huh?” He cocks his eyebrow knowingly.

“Oh, yeah,” Eddie murmurs, no longer paying any attention to the remaining names being read aloud. “You ever think you’d see the day I settle down?” His tone is teasing, but there’s an ounce of insecurity behind them.

To Eddie’s surprise, Dustin nods without hesitation. “Always knew you would.” Carol Perkins shushes him from the row ahead, but he just flips her off and rolls his eyes.

“Don’t you remember that time in high school when we got sloshed—sorry, Wayne,” Jeff cuts in sheepishly, “and you went on a rant about how you secretly wanted the whole wife, kids, picket fence deal?”

“And I believe I threatened to kick your ass if you told anyone,” Eddie points out, embarrassment turning his face red, apparent even under the light stubble covering his cheeks.

Wayne chuckles softly. “I already knew. About the dream and the booze.” He laughs a bit harder at Jeff and Eddie’s shocked expressions. “If you keep replacing vodka with water, eventually, it’s all just water.”

“Ya don’t say.” Dustin’s sarcasm bleeds through his whisper.

Principal Sinclair reads the last student’s name with the same enthusiasm she’s given all of the other kids. “I now present to you, the Hawkins Preschool class of 1997!” She mimes tossing a cap in the air, the students’ cue to do the same.

The fervor of the cheers and applause could shake the cafeteria. Whistles pierce the air and reverberate off of the walls, none louder than Wayne Munson’s. You stand up, smoothing the pleats of your dress to soak in the achievement of completing another academic year; for you, this one in a brand new school with more challenges than you’d cared to endure.

You and Will take in the sight of nine cherubic faces looking up at you in admiration, though they’re beginning to shed their baby fat. This was certainly a journey, and you couldn’t have asked for a better teaching assistant to walk beside you through it all.

“I’m gonna miss you next year,” you say, squeezing him in a tight hug.

“I’ll be right down the hall!”

Begrudgingly, you let go of him, not losing the pout on your lips. “That’s way too far for me.” The two of you both know that you’re serious; it won’t be the same without having him in the classroom with you. “Can we try to match up our breaks and eat lunch together?”

“It’s a date,” Will laughs, then juts out his chin to motion behind you, “but it looks like I might have some competition.”

Before you can turn around, Eddie’s arms wrap around your waist. He tugs you in close so your back is flush against his chest, the buttons from his shirt pressing into your spine. “There’s my girl,” he murmurs in your ear, lips so close that they brush the lobe. “Are you ready to start your summer?”

You kiss his cheek, adjusting your stance so you can walk hand in hand to get Harris. He torpedoes himself into Eddie’s stomach, shrieking with laughter as he’s lifted into the air.

“Har Bear, you’re a preschool graduate!” Eddie smacks a kiss to his son’s temple. “How should we celebrate, hmm? Ice cream? Chuck E. Cheese?”

“Ice cream!” Harris decides easily. “I’m gonna get cotton candy with rainbow sprinkles and—Uncle Dusty!” He squirms out of Eddie’s grasp and races over to Dustin.

“What? I’m not an ice cream topping!” Dustin teases, crouching down to ruffle Harris’s curls, matted to his scalp from being hidden underneath the cap.

Harris giggles. “You’re so silly!” He glances back and forth from him to you, and you realize he doesn’t know that you’d met in March at Will’s birthday party. “Uncle Dusty, this is Ms. Sweetheart. She’s my almost-mommy.”

“Ohh,” Dustin replies with a smirk, raising his eyebrows and nodding. “I think she needs to be your dad’s almost-wife first–”

“All right! Ice cream time!” Eddie hurries to cut him off, glaring at Dustin for bringing the idea to Harris’s attention again; he has constantly been hounding him about marriage ever since he found out about his newest living arrangements. The idea of marrying you, however, eases his tension and has a smile tugging on his lips; a slight switch in expression that his uncle spots easily.

Wayne’s gruff whisper is in Eddie’s ear. “Sounds like it’s time for an almost-proposal.”

“Shut up!”

“I think that’s the last of them!” Jeff calls out, lugging the final cardboard box from his car into your apartment. He wipes his hands on his jeans and closes the door behind him, careful not to wake up his sleeping daughter in Viv’s arms. He looks over at where you, Robin, and Jess have begun unpacking, laying Eddie’s clothes in one pile and Harris’s much smaller clothes in another.

Jeff places a kiss on the crown of Viv’s head, then plants an identical one on Ettie’s. “Where are the guys?”

“Harris’s room,” you say; bittersweet taste tinging the new label. It feels better than Grandma’s old room, but part of it will always belong to her. You hear Harris giggle as Eddie and Dustin re-assemble his racecar bed, spreading warmth that gently softens the sadness until it resembles sentimentality. “I’ll come with you; I have to put this away, anyway.” You grab the pile of Harris’s clothes and tuck it under your arm.

Eddie and Dustin sit on the floor, rogue screws spread around them as they intently study their project.

“I think this piece,” Dustin muses, picking up one of the sides of the frame, “connects with this one like that…”

Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, it’s the other way around.” He takes the screwdriver and twists the metal into the slot triumphantly. Your breath catches in your throat as his bicep flexes with the motion, perfectly displayed where his t-shirt sleeve had been cut into a makeshift tank top. “There we go.” He looks up and realizes you’re there, perfectly still as you watch him. “Hey, Sweetheart. Y’good?” There’s a mischievous twinkle in his eye; though it was inadvertent, he knows what he’s doing to you.

You only nod, the movement dragging you out of your momentary stupor. He chuckles as you place Harris’s shirts and pants in the dresser, fingers clumsily slipping over the knobs. It’s the same unicorn-covered dresser that had sent Harris into hysterics a few weeks ago, but you’d painted over it before he could see. It’s now a dark navy blue, no evidence of what once lay beneath.

Eddie’s amused by your reaction and subsequent embarrassment, running his tongue over his teeth and chuckling to himself, but his victory is short-lived.

“Hey, Casanova,” Dustin’s exasperated voice cuts in, pointing to the section Eddie just assembled, “you put the piece on upside down.”

Harris crinkles his nose. “What’s Casanova?”

Eddie buries his head in his hands as Dustin scrambles to explain. “It means your dad is trying to show off his handyman skills for your almost-mommy.” He winks in Eddie’s direction before leaning in and exaggeratedly whispering in Harris’s ear, “but he’s not doing a very good job.”

As soon as Harris distracts himself with setting up his toys, Eddie is saluting his friend with a quick flip of his middle finger.

You crouch down, brushing a lock of hair behind his ear. “Don’t worry; I’m very impressed.” He blushes when you kiss his cheek. “Your uncle’s going to be here with dinner in a few minutes, if you burly men want to wash up.”

Eddie nods, turning to his friends and his son and speaking in a deep baritone. “You heard the woman! Let us refuel so we may regain our strength for hunting and other masculine activities.”

Harris’s brows pinch together in further confusion while you and Dustin share an eyeroll, but the three of you follow your fearless leader out of the room. Eddie lets the two of them pass and waits for you, sliding a coy hand in your back pocket and murmuring against your hair. “Man and woman make fire in bedroom later?” He continues using the deepened voice.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“That’s…that’s not a no, though, right?”

The summer sun is still high in the sky when Wayne arrives at the apartment, three pizza boxes still warm in his palms. He’s barely able to put them on the table before Harris is racing towards him, ready to give a full report of the goings-on of his day.

Jess sits at the table, baby Ettie laying in her arms while she gives Viv a break and feeds her from a bottle. You place a piece of pizza on the paper plate in front of her, and one in front of Robin, who adoringly watches her girlfriend dote on a baby. Wayne sits in the third seat, thanking you with his kind smile as you pass him a slice.

You join Eddie and Harris on the couch; Jeff plops down in the La-Z-Boy on the other side of the coffee table, motioning for Viv to sit atop his legs, while Dustin has seemingly been relegated to sitting cross-legged on the floor.

“Uncle Dusty, come sit next to me!” Harris chirps, nearly knocking your plate out of your hand as he bounces onto your lap. His curls tickle your chin as he leans over to take a bite of his dinner, dragging the cheese halfway off of the crust before Eddie holds it in place.

Dustin obliges, squishing in next to you with an apologetic laugh, but you don’t mind. Dialogue melds together, with people seamlessly leaping from one conversation to another. Robin poses the question of what everyone thinks Ettie’s first word will be, which prompts Wayne to tell the story about how Eddie tried so hard to get Harris to say dada, only for the boy to scream out “SHIT!” in the middle of Bradley’s Big Buy.

Jeff looks across the room at his tiny daughter. “Please don’t let that be your first word,” he jokingly begs her, picking a greasy pepperoni piece from his slice and dropping it in his mouth. While he’s preoccupied, Viv steals a bite of the crust.

“Are you all going to the July 4th carnival next week?” Eddie asks through a cheesy mouthful.

Everyone except Dustin answers in the affirmative. “Flying back home tomorrow,” he says, a round of booing from the group forcing him to pause mid-statement, “but Suzie and I are—hey, not cool!” He swats at a crumpled napkin that Eddie lobs at his head. “Suzie and I are going to try and visit for my mom’s birthday in August,” he finishes with a pointed look.

Harris tilts his head back so you can see straight into his flared nostrils. “Ms. Sweetheart, you’re coming to the carnival with us, right?”

“Of course! What rides are we gonna go on?” you ask, his little feet kicking at your calves as joy flows through his body.

“The Ferris Wheel! Me an’ Daddy always go on that, an’ now you can come with us!”

He and Eddie always go on the Ferris Wheel. It’s a tradition that they share, and now they’re allowing you in. Now you’re part of it.

You smile, kissing his forehead in a celebration of belonging and delight. “That sounds like a lot of fun,” you agree. “Do you think Daddy will play the games and win a prize for us?”

Eddie groans at your suggestion. “Those booths are all rigged. Every last one of ‘em.”

“I dunno,” Jess says teasingly, wiping Ettie’s chin with a cloth bib, “I won a stuffed animal from the whack-a-mole last year—”

“Oh, yeah! And I beat the Test Your Strength one,” Jeff adds slyly, getting a rise out of proving Eddie wrong.

Eddie throws his voice to a falsetto, mocking his friend’s words. “I beat the Test Your Strength one,” he echoes nasally, chuckling when Jeff scoops up the napkin previously thrown at Dustin and hurls it towards Eddie.

The rest of the evening continues like this, silly banter and recalled stories that end up being cut short or watered down for the impressionable ears listening in. It’s love in its many forms: between partners, between parents and their children, between friends. Each peal of laughter, each shared smile, each memory made adds to its foundation; brick by brick, layer by layer.

The pink hues of sunset darken to indigo and eventually settle into a night sky, the moon shining brightly and unobscured by clouds. Eddie, Jeff, and Dustin finally manage to put the race car bed back together—and just in time. Harris’s yawns become more frequent until he can no longer fight sleep, dozing off with his cheek pressed against your chest. Soft snores leave his slightly agape mouth.

“I feel the same way,” Wayne jokes, standing up from his chair and stretching his back with a grimace. “It’s been a long day.”

The group nods in agreement, quietly gathering their belongings and saying good-bye.

“Thank you all for helping today,” you say, handing out hugs while keeping Harris sound asleep. He stirs but doesn’t fully wake up, even with all of the commotion. “We really appreciate it.”

Eddie seconds your sentiment. “It means a lot to us. We know we owe you a lot more than just dinner—”

“You guys are family,” Viv interrupts with a smile, gently rocking a sleeping Ettie in her arms. “This is what family does.”

A calloused hand rests on your shoulder from behind the couch; you lean your head on Eddie’s forearm and give it a small kiss. The delicate hairs brush against your lips, and you relax into his touch.

Your guests file out, already making plans to meet up at the carnival. Eddie closes the door behind them, insisting that he can beat Jeff at the Test Your Strength and demanding that his friend buy him a funnel cake when he does.

There’s a soft murmuring coming from Harris’s room, and Eddie walks as quietly as he can. He watches silently, shoulder pressed against the doorframe, as you place his son’s head onto the pillow. The crisp sheet is draped over his sleeping body, followed by the Buzz Lightyear comforter you’d bought at Kmart especially for him. Harris stirs for a moment to grab onto the blankets, tugging them to his chin and scrunching up his legs to assume a cozier position. He lets out a content sigh and slips back into his dream.

“Good night, kiddo,” you whisper, kissing his mop of curls. You look around the room, so different from when it belonged to Grandma. It seems larger, his race car bed taking up much less space than her queen-size bed did. A Lego set lies where her shoe rack once stood. The top of his dresser is covered in Hot Wheels, rather than the makeup and jewelry that Grandma had on hers.

But it’s a good kind of different, one that comes with the natural ebb and flow of life. It brings inevitable change, and it’s your choice whether to embrace it or run away.

“You’re a natural at this bedtime thing, y’know.” Eddie’s voice, low and soft, places you back in the moment. He holds his arms out for you to nestle into them, holding you as close as he can. His thumb caresses your shoulder blade. “It normally takes a couple of stories, half a dozen pee breaks, and a horse tranquilizer to get him down.”

“I think being completely exhausted from moving helped,” you laugh into his chest. “And I’m right there with him. Man and woman might have to postpone their fire-making.”

Eddie’s chuckle vibrates against you. “Yeah, it wouldn’t be my best performance. Wanna make this one really good, since it’s a special occasion and everything.” He closes Harris’s door and leads you to the bedroom you two now share. “We gotta christen this bad boy.”

“We’ve had sex on this bed a million times.” You recall the ways his lips traced over your body, eager to memorize every inch of skin.

“But that’s when it was only your bed,” he points out. “Now it’s ours.”

Ours. Our bed, our home, our family. Ours.

You can barely change into pajamas before you’re falling asleep; Eddie manages to slip off his jeans and shirt, clad in plaid boxers and nothing else, before crashing down into the bed you now share. His arm slips around your waist, fingers reflexively dancing up your shirt, while he buries his head in the nape of your neck.

When daylight breaks and the sun streams through the gaps in the blinds, Eddie has assumed a starfish position, blankets flung to the edge of the bed in what must have been a middle-of-the-night move. You’re still dozing, but he knows he has to wake you if he wants to sneak in some alone time before his son wakes up.

“Morning, gorgeous.” His breath tickles under your earlobe, pulling you close to him. You hum, not quite awake but no longer dreaming. “C’mon, wake up, pretty thing.” He licks his lips before kissing the exposed skin of your shoulder blades.

Wiping sleep from your eyes, you turn over and face him. Your mouth lazily finds his, the cotton fabric of your pajama top fisted in his grasp. The outline of his morning wood is visible through his boxer shorts; it presses into your thigh as though greedily searching for your warmth. “You always wake up this hard?” you tease, fingertips already fiddling with the worn elastic waistband and dipping towards the treasure beneath. The scruff of his pubic hair grazes your knuckles.

“Only when I dream of you,” he mumbles with a cheeky grin, climbing on top of you while shedding his only clothing article. The boxers fall to the floor unceremoniously.

“Smooth.”

“I thought so.” Both hands cup your cheeks; you expect him to kiss you again, but he just gazes into your eyes. “Love waking up next to you.”

It draws a memory of the first morning you’d spent together; an inadvertent sleepover that culminated in one poorly-crafted lie and two broken hearts. He looks at you now, tired and yet still beautiful. How could I have let her slip by? How did I almost miss all of this?

You take the lead this time, arching your back so your torso melds into his, connected by desire. Eddie has your tank top off in a heartbeat, tongue swiping over your nipples the instant they’re visible.

“Perfect,” Eddie groans, making his way down your abdomen. He places your legs on top of his shoulders, lips delicately fluttering over your clit so he can lick a broad stripe up your labia. “I know we should be having a quickie, but I can’t turn down breakfast in bed.” His face is buried in your pussy, inhaling your scent and committing it to memory.

You giggle at his phrasing. If you question it, you know he’ll make a comment about you being good enough to eat. You give in instead, letting him ravish you just the way you both crave.

One finger, then two, slip into your waiting cunt while his mouth focuses on your clit. You’re dripping with your arousal and his saliva; you bite your lower lip to stifle the noises begging to be heard.

“Eddie, Eddie,” you croak, trying to keep your voice down. “I’m so close, s-so close…”

Eddie says nothing, continuing to worship the taste of you. You can feel his victorious smile as you cry out his name in orgasmic bliss, toes flexing just as he brings you down from the high.

“Need you, fuckin’ Christ,” he breathes, tempering the stimulation pulsing through his cock with a few short tugs.

You nod, already electrified at the prospect of being split open on him. He sinks into you with a muted moan, savoring the way you envelop him within your warmth. “All mine, Sweetheart; you’re all mine.”

“Mhm,” you manage. Your fingernails dig into his upper back with a force that will surely leave crescent indents in his skin. “I’m all yours. Always will be.”

His thumb runs along your jaw and he smiles. She’s all mine.

The ridges of his dick form a delectable friction along your walls. Each thrust is a mutual give and take, an exchanging of selves with every breath.

“I love you.” Eddie’s impossibly beautiful like this, hands holding your hips steady while sweat drips from his forehead onto yours. He brings your fourth finger between his lips; you can feel his tongue claiming it as his own. “And I’m gonna put a ring on this pretty little finger of yours, okay? Just want it to be perfect for you.”

You weave your fingers into his sleep-mussed curls and kiss him. “Don’t need perfect. I’ll marry you without a ring.” Whatever elaborate fairytale wedding you’d been crafting in your head is suddenly wholly unnecessary; all that matters is that you and Eddie commit to one another. But you know him well enough to not question his devotion to you. If Eddie Munson wants to give you the proposal of a lifetime, then that’s what he’s going to do.

There will be no unkept promises this morning, no shattered hearts to mend.

He can’t hold back any longer, spilling into you with punctuating grunts. You receive every last drop gratefully, a part of him within you, and you finish for the second time today.

“I meant it.” He gently withdraws from inside you, both of you mourning the loss of the other’s body. “When I said I’m gonna marry you, I meant it.”

“I know.”

“Good.” Eddie grins, laying on his side and propping himself up on his elbow. Sweat glistens along the sparse hairs curling over his bare chest. “Are you hungry? I know I worked up an appetite.”

You kiss his nose, biting the end teasingly. He yelps in mock pain, so you kiss it again. “I am, but I have to be honest—between all the unpacking and sex, I don’t have the energy to make breakfast.”

“Me neither,” he admits with a laugh. “Why don’t we shower, wake up Sleeping Beauty,” he nudges his head towards Harris’s room, “and go to the diner.” He stretches and stands, eyes drawn to the nightstand, where the framed photo from Wayne leans against a porcelain lamp. Happiness captured with the click of a Kodak.

You’re smiling, thinking about sharing silver dollar pancakes with Harris again just like you used to do with Grandma. Somewhere along the way, you grew from the child to the adult in that scenario, passing on a tradition you never even knew had been started.

“That sounds amazing.” As you say it aloud, something in addition to hunger gnaws at your stomach. You’ve been putting it off, hiding from the truth, but you want to stop pretending. You want to feel everything that comes with accepting reality. Without sorrow, you would never recognize joy. Without grief, you won’t understand the depths of our love beyond the physical plain.

“Could we make a quick pit stop first?”

Though it’s still morning, the late June humidity has your shirt clinging to you, sweat beading along the collar and around your bra clasp. You close the car door behind you; Eddie shuffles to open the back door for Harris. The little boy unbuckles his seatbelt and hops out of the booster seat, glancing between you and his dad. You take his left hand and Eddie takes his right as you walk over to the stone.

“Hi, Grandma,” you whisper, crouching down to better see the engraving. Gently, your fingers dance over the etched words: Beloved wife, mother, grandmother, and friend. “I know I haven’t been by to visit you yet, but I’m here now.” You muster up a small smile. “And I brought Eddie and Harris with me. They…they loved you, too.”

You falter for a moment, unsure how to proceed. Eddie’s hand rubs your upper back, not caring about how perspiration-soaked it is.

“Do you want some privacy?” he murmurs. “Harris and I can wait by the car. You take as long as you need.”

You nod, watching them walk hand in hand to give you your space to grieve. Filling your lungs with a deep breath, you speak what’s been in your heart.

“I need to thank you,” you start, talking directly to where her name is engraved, “for a lot of things. But I guess, um, the most important is how you taught me to forgive without taking shit—can I swear in a cemetery?—from people.” Your laugh is heavy with the weight of remembrance.

“I miss you. A lot,” you continue, tears now spilling freely from your eyes. “I miss doing puzzles together. I miss cooking together. I’m going to try and make your applesauce for Thanksgiving this year. I think Harris will really like it.” You swallow thickly. “If you’d met him before you got sick, you would’ve adored him. He’s got the biggest heart of any kid I’ve ever met.”

You’re finding it easier to talk; everything you need to say is coming naturally and without hesitation.

“He’s…he’s living in your room. I guess, technically, it’s his room now. But a little part of me will always consider it your room, too. And I think that’s okay.” You nod, confirming to yourself that it’s all part of the process. “He keeps asking me and Eddie when we’re going to get married. To be honest, I’m kind of wondering the same thing.” You smile at the thought of marrying Eddie, maybe even legally adopting Harris, if that’s something they also want. “I’m not in a rush, though, but I really do believe that Eddie’s the one. He’s my person, and I’m his. So, yeah, I’m definitely hoping that he proposes sooner rather than later.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to visit. I always thought losing you wouldn’t be as hard as it was, because it felt like I had already lost you to dementia.” It feels silly to admit aloud, but it’s the truth. “I should’ve known that it wouldn’t be easy. But I promise, I’ll stop by more often, and I’ll have plenty of cute Harris stories to tell you.”

There’s just a bit more that you need to share before you can go. “I love you, Grandma. And…thank you for loving me, too.”

You stand up, pressing on your knees to ensure your balance. Taking one last look at the stone, you run your fingers over the jagged marble and turn back towards Eddie and Harris.

The little boy is perched on his father’s hip, squinting into the sunlight to make out your form. “You ready, Ms. Sweetheart?”

You blink through misty eyes, staring at the two people in front of you. Ten months ago, if someone had told you that your one-night stand at a dive bar would end up being the love of your life, you would have laughed in their face. But the universe does what it must to remain in balance, and it doesn’t humor any arguments.

Inhale, exhale, repeat. This is where you’re meant to be. This is who you’re meant to be: a partner, a friend, an almost-mommy.

“Yeah,” you say finally, the tears clearing from your vision and a genuine smile forming on your lips. “I’m ready.”

💚

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui

997 notes · View notes

sarawritestories · 4 months ago

Text

To The Readers Who Look Up At The Stars... and Wish.

Azriel X Reader

Content Warning: unedited.

Summary: Azriel can't tear himself from the stars.

A/N: I will add the taglist when I get to a computer! Enjoy!

Dividers by @tsunami-of-tears

Nesta searched for her friend. She knew that he and Cassian had returned from a tough mission as her mate had returned bruised and exhaustion dominated over his features. He desired to bathe and go straight to bed, barely able to bend and place a tender, loving kiss to her lips. And it took a lot to exhaust the General in such a way, and she knew she needed to check in with the shadowsinger.

The Valkyrie approached Azriel's door and knocked. Her frown deepened as her knocks went ignored. She tested the door, know, the cold biting into her skin as she twisted and shocked to find the door bent to her will and opened.

As the eldest Archeron walked into his room, she took a moment to take in his room. He kept it clean and organized with minimal decor, and yet the room felt cozy, and Nesta could even see the painting of him and his brothers at the top of Ramiel and smiled her hand grazing lightly over the crimson hue of her mates Siphons. A cool sensation threaded through Nesta's fingers tugging her, and she smiled, looking down to find a shadow swirling around her hand. "Hello, where is he?" The shadow tugged once more, and she followed as it led her to his balcony.

Azriel was leaning against the balcony rail, his wings tucked tightly, and his shadows pooled at his feet relaxed. Though his back was to her, Nesta could tell that he was looking up at the night sky, the stars and the moon illuminating the balcony. Nesta walked up and leaned next to him.

They stood in a comfortable silence for a few moments before Azriel, to the Valkyrie's surprise, spoke, a smile tugging at his lips, "My beloved will return to me, tonight."

Nesta's head snapped toward the shadowsinger, "Beloved?"

Azriel nodded, "Yes. Each star is a reader of our story, Nes." He pointed to a large bright star, Nesta's gaze follows, "That one emerges often, and it's as if my body just pulls me to it when it appears. I know this reader is special, a beautiful creature that deserves to be cherished."

Nesta faced her friend once more, "How can you be sure?"

Azriel smiled, "I just do. Nes." As he rubbed his chest, his siphons glowing atop his scarred hand.

Nesta bit her lip for a brief moment, "I wonder if I'm the villain in this story."

"Quite the opposite." Cassian's voice called out from the balcony door. Nesta swirled around to find the General with the tired grin. "You are quite beloved. You've helped many heal, My Love." He held out his hand, and Nesta grabbed his, "My beautiful, loving Mate." Cassian kissed her temple. "Let's go to bed."

Nesta nodded but not before turning back to Azriel. To find her smiling at her. "I'm alright, I promise. We'll go have breakfast at the bakery you like tomorrow." Nesta nodded her head as Cassian led her out of the shadowsinger's room.

Azriel's head looked back up at the Stars, "Oh beloved, how I yearn to touch you." He lifted his hand as though he could caress the star. His thumb tried desperately to caress it as though it were your cheek. "My beautiful Reader. Sweet Dreams. I'll see you soon." Lowering his hand, he walked toward his bed, but not before looking up at his star once more. Wishing that one day his path would find its way to you.

Softly, you shut the book and lean your head against nothing. Wishing scarred calloused hands were cupping your face so tenderly. That wings spanning so wide they would touch both walls of your room would hover over you in a wave of protectiveness. Sadness hollowed you out, as that would never come to be. Azriel, the spymaster of the Night Court, was fictional, and as you got ready for bed, your mind wandered to what night time routine would look like the Illyrian. Even though he was fictional, you could still daydream about what life with him would look like!

As you crawled into your bed, you shut off your light and let the light from the moon illuminate your room. Looking at a particular bright star, your eyes began to grow heavy. You barely registered the shadows swirling over your copy of the popular book that the shadow singer makes his first appearance in as unconsciousness consumed you.

You awoke in a bed that was fairly familiar to you, and when you tried to move a muscled arm that was around, your waist stiffened, keeping you in place. Your head turned, and your pulse quickened as soft hazel eyes met yours. A smile tugged at his lips, and your eyes drifted to his bare chest tattoos kissing his skin. You jolted slightly as his shadows snaked up your leg. Azriel chuckled, and you met his gaze oncemore. "Hi." You whispered.

Azriel's scarred hand cupped your cheek, his smile never faltering. "Welcome home, my sweet Reader." He pressed his lips to yours, and you couldn't help but smile. Home. He felt like home.

If this was a dream you prayed, no one would dare wake you up.

~Fin

General tag: @milswrites @lady-of-tearshed @tsunami-of-tears @readychilledwine @ceoofyearning

@velariscalling @daycourtofficial @prythianpages @writingcroissant @itsswritten

@illyrianbitch @acotarxreader @pit-and-the-pen @nocasdatsgay @labyrinth-of-stories-and-stars

@thelov3lybookworm @ninthcircleofprythian @lilah-asteria @kingdomofstarrynights @hellodarling1357

@kylaisra @nickishadow139 @aelincaddel @nighttimemoonlover @demirunner

@marvelbros-oneshots @writeroutoftime

#sarawritesstories #acotar fanfiction #acotar #azriel x reader #azriel acomaf #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger

256 notes · View notes

jessnotfoundd · 1 month ago

Text

Jealous - Charles Leclerc (Hate sex)

30! KINKTOBER!

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader!

Btw, I'm new to writing this kind of things, so if you can leave recommendations in my inbox I would be glad z3.

MDNI, it contains sexual themes.

After Charles ruined all my chances of having fun at the party, I was in the backyard, talking with a guy hoping Charles wouldn't ruin this one too.

Ethan, the guy goes inside to get us something to drink while I wait for him, enjoying the clean night sky.

"You know you could do much better than him, right?"

I ignored him, hoping he would get bored and leave me alone.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" He comes closer to me, and I sigh.

"I'm just having fun" I turn to look at him. "I think I can do this one" I joke, knowing he would get pissed.

"The hell? you can't. You're not doing anyone except me." he chuckles but I know at this point I'm just getting under his skin.

"Yeah, I don't do idiots" I smirk. His face is slightly red and I can tell he's starting to be desperate.

"Just shut that mouth before I make you"

I move and start walking, making my way to the kitchen.

"You don't get it, don't you? You're mine!" He states and I laugh. He really lost his mind.

I keep walking, ignoring him all the time. Until my back is against the wall of the corridor.

"I said, you're mine." His face is just inches away from mine.

"I hate you"

"Why are you so stubborn?" I can tell his patience is running thin.

"I'm just being myself" I feel his hands grip my hips.

"You've been letting that boy touch you, even kiss you, why don't you just give up being like this?" he groans.

"I'm single, you just have to face that you're not the one I want, that's all."

He leans even closer, his lips now just barely brushing against mine.

"Let me go, Charles"

He smirks. "You're not going anywhere, and you're not letting anyone else touch you tonight except me".

I switch positions, making his back hit the opposite wall of the corridor, and kiss him aggressively with sight madness.

"I hate you" I mutter in between kisses.

The kiss keeps that hateful demeanor for a few minutes until we both need to pull away for air.

"You got what you wanted. Now leave me alone."

I can see the frustration and desire on his face while I walk away heading out of the party.

As the night went by, I couldn't shake the feeling of his lips against mine and how desperate he was, even though I hated him more than anyone else, I knew I needed to do anything with this. So I got in the car and drove to his place. I knocked on his door, waiting patiently so he would open the door for me. And once he does I freeze. After ignoring him all night, could you tell me what I was supposed to do here?

"What are you doin-"

I cut him up kissing him with the same aggressive demeanor I used today at the party, it didn't matter how turned on he could get me I still could feel the fire of hate inside of me.

"I fucking hate you" Our lips are so close that when I speak, they brush.

"Doesn't seem like you do" He smirks and i grab a hold of his shirt.

"I'll show you how much I hate you then" I step inside and close the door.

I could tell how confused he was so I pressed my lips against his again. My hands start to unbutton the bottoms on his shirt, my fingers sightly brushing the now uncovered skin of his chest and abdomen. I break the kiss to see down where my hands are moving now. I can hear his ragged breaths and I smirk.

"What's... that smirk for," he says, he's struggling to keep his breathing steady.

"For how pathetic you're being, acting like this is your first time being touched by a woman" I get rid of his shirt and as I slide it down from his arms I pay attention to the way his muscles are flexed. "Relax, I won't bite you" I look at him, and he's looking at me. "Yet"

Once his shirt is off I admire how his body is built. Fit and the muscles slightly marked. He's silent and probably questioning his existence.

I press my lips against his neck, leaving kisses and some marks. "You said I was yours today" I whisper in his ear. "I think you got it really wrong, "You are mine. The other way around" I smirk again and he shivers.

"I thought you hated me" he whispers, his breath now more even.

"I do" My hands fly to the waistband of his jeans."Where's the bedroom?" I say, still whispering in his ear.

He guides me to the bedroom and I take a look around, the room is decorated so like him, with cars posters, and a red wine palette of colors.

“This where you touch yourself thinking of me?” I pushed him onto the bed, watching his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “Pathetic.”

I dropped to my knees, undoing his jeans and sliding them off. He gasped when I freed him, his body betraying him. He needed me. But I already knew it from the beginning.

i tossed him a condom. “Put it on.”

His hands trembled as he reached for the packet, but he hesitated. “Leave the bra on,” he murmured, his voice hoarse. “I’ll take it off.”

I rolled my eyes but nodded. Sliding my underwear down, I caught him staring at my body, his eyes hungry. “Enjoying yourself?” I teased.

He was breathless. “I need you.”

Without warning, he grabbed me, tossing me onto the bed, pinning me beneath him. His hand struck my cheek, sharp and unexpected.

“Again,” I whispered, surprising myself with how much I craved the sting on my face again.

“You want me to slap you again?” He grinned, as his cock pressed against me.

“Yes.” The word left my lips in a breathless plea.

He slapped me once more, and in the same moment, thrust into me. I gasped, overwhelmed by the twin sensations of pain and pleasure.

His pace was relentless, hips slamming into mine as the room filled with the sound of skin on skin, moans, and growls of dominance. “Look at you,” he sneered. “Taking me, making all these noises for me. Didn’t you hate me?”

“F-fuck you,” I managed to gasp, though my body was betraying me with every thrust.

“You’re so pathetic,” he grunted, moving harder, both of us nearing the edge. My nails dug into his back, desperate for something to hold onto as my insides were burning in pleasure.

He groaned as he felt me tighten around him, and I fell over the edge, my mind blank, my body convulsing in pleasure.

“That’s it,” he muttered, watching me come undone. “Look at you, falling apart on my cock.”

He collapsed beside me, his breath ragged and uneven.

“To be so bitchy, you’re pretty damn good at this,” he panted.

“Fuck you.”

He grinned. “Again?”

#formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc #formula 1 #charles lecler x reader #x reader #charles #leclerc #charles leclerc smut #formula 1 smut #f1 smut #f1 x reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #ferrari f1

212 notes · View notes

ddaisyvision · 1 year ago

Text

𝐆𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄! | 𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐈

𝐚/𝐧: im back bitches and it feels great! writing this was real fun. i was smokin a lil weed, listening to music and then gimme more by britney spears came on and thus this was born. it was supposed to be a mini fic but.. i got a lil carried away lmao. enjoy my babies! 💋

𝐜𝐰: pervy!denji, sleazy!denji, stripper!reader (your stripper name is diamond btw), fem!bodied, heavy petting, sloppy kissing, alcohol use, raw penetrative sex, breeding(?)| 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k | 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 (𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧)

Even in his twenties, Denji was still a perverted loser. He may have been a great devil hunter; but his lust for women kept him anchored on distraction. Tits. Pussy. Asses. The fat of their thighs spreading when they sit. The way they smell; so sweet like flowers or a piece of decadent dessert. The allure of femininity alone scratched an itch within him.

So is it any surprise that Denji’d be spending his nights at the local strip club? Every Friday; his only day off a week, he’d be sat with his ones in tow sitting in the front row of the stage every bit of gitty. He was like a teenage boy, already undressing the half dressed dancers that walked around the dimly lit club with his hungry eyes.

“Alright gentlemen! This girl’s a newcomer to our club tonight, so open your wallets and please give a warm welcome to the gorgeous Diamond!”

Denji’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he saw you, walking achingly slow towards the middle of the big pink stage. You were dressed in all baby blue; soft white accents of your outfit making you look every bit of angelic. Your breasts were adorned in a sparkly bikini-like top, the twinkle of every rhinestone calling attention to the audience like a flare in the sky. His eyes were then fixated onto your navel where a heart shaped charm hung ever so dainty. His gaze traveled down to your soft legs as they wrapped around the pole, a vision of those same legs wrapped around his waist as he took you quickly coming to mind.

Denji’s now fighting the agitating urge to palm himself through his jeans, his cock now painfully hard as he watched you grind and shake your plump ass on the pole. Your body seemed to float when you danced, a mix of seduction and grace that was quite impressive for an amateur. Your routine landed you on the floor of the stage, crawling towards the man that looked to be her biggest fan already.

Denji swallowed his nerves and braced himself as you got closer, eyes immediately falling to your cleavage. As you sensually touch your body in front of him, grinding and arching your back for his viewing pleasure, Denji’s hands start to stuff money right in between your breasts. You can’t help but giggle at his eagerness to show his appreciation for you, so you turn around and wiggle your ass in his face, Denji’s cheeks now bloodshot red. His lust was so obvious, hands touching every bit of skin he could before your routine was over.

You liked him. You didn’t know why but you did. He tipped you so nicely and his hands felt so good on your skin it almost lit you ablaze. You both seem to get lost in the moment as you let him explore your curves, softly gasping when his slender fingers ghost past your pussy. It was a cheeky move that caught you by surprise, touching this salacious normally granted in a gentle ass-whooping by security. Luckily no one saw.

Long after your dance, you and Denji continued the party in one of the luxe VIP rooms in the back. One glass of champagne led to another and suddenly you were both all over each other. Denji may have had to dip into his savings a bit to afford you but god were you worth every cent. You were sat in his lap tasting him, your tongues swirling together to take each other in. His teeth gently tug at your bottom lip as he reluctantly pulls back, his hands speaking more than he might have been. He starts to knead at your breasts, tugging the fabric of your top aside to reveal your soft mounds. Denji moans as if he’d just slipped inside you at the sight of your puffy nipples, taking his time licking and sucking and tugging at each one with sloppy noises following every motion. Heat started to rise from between your legs, essence oozing from your pussy as your mouth hangs agape. You really want to keep quiet. Sex wasn’t allowed in the VIP rooms but so long as the customers paid, no one seemed to mind.

“We can’t, baby, not in here.” You purr directly into his ear. Each hair at the back of Denji’s neck stands, your sweet voice causing his already aching cock to twitch and leak furiously. The thought of not getting what he paid for struck a chord in Denji.

“C’mon. Might as well gimme somethin’.” Denji pulls this line out of his back pocket, trying not to sound desperate but the teasing is killing him at this point. All he can think of is burying his cock deep inside your gorgeous pussy and fucking you until you both see stars. You take one look into his puppy dog eyes and swoon, taking a hand to dotingly stroke his angry cock through his pants. You erupt into a fit of giggles as you watch him flinch and buck his hips up to meet your hands for more friction.

“Fine. You’re lucky you’re cute...”

Any more foreplay would have the both of you erupting with just one touch, lips crashing into each other for one sloppy mess of a drunken kiss. Both your hands get tangled together as you try to take off Denji’s jeans, the sound of his belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor with a clank. The sexual tension between the two of you was suffocating as if you couldn’t get to each other fast enough. Finally Denji’s cock sprung free from the confines of his clothes. It was surprisingly big. Not too lengthy with the right amount of girth. His poor cock had been leaking so much the front of Denji’s boxers were soaking wet. Had he already cum?

Your sultry eyes drink him in, sliding your panties out of the way as your feet plant down on either side of his legs on the long lounge chair. Your sopping cunt is now hovering over his lonely tip, your pretty hand wrapped around his length to keep him still. As you slowly sink down you can feel the slickness of your pussy coating him, the two of you moaning in sync at the sensation. The delicious pressure caused you to bite your lip to keep the noise at a minimum, sitting all the way down as Denji’s face lay snugly between your cleavage. He’s already losing his mind, his fingers digging indents into the skin of your hips to lift you up and down on his cock, you following his rhythm by bouncing up and down. Fuck he filled you so nicely, causing your legs to shake with every bounce of your hips. Hell, you could barely keep yourself up, Denji’s learned a thing or two from all those pornos he spends his spare time reading, licking the tip of his thumb to flick at your swollen bud. You can feel yourself clench around him as he touches you there, your moans becoming more and more difficult to keep them down.

“Haah, fuck, haaaah.” Denji moans, almost louder than you.

His voice was shaky, breath uneven. You can hear bits and pieces of how good your pussy feels, how badly he wants to cum inside you; but it’s hard to make out. You can tell he’s close; you were too. You stop your hips and let his lust drive his movement, his hips thrusting upwards without you having to direct him. Your hands find themselves in Denji’s hair, holding him closely as you come undone for him, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your entire body sits limp in Denji’s grasp. It doesn’t take much longer for Denji to follow suit, his cock finally finding the release it had been craving since the moment he saw you. He fucks his seed into you without a thought behind his eyes besides cumming. Fits of ‘oh fuck’s and ‘shit’ flood from his lips as his head hangs back in the seat, facing the ceiling. His hot sticky cum flooded your walls, some even leaking and dripping all over the chair beneath you two as you watched him get off with satisfied eyes.

“You’re cute when you cum.” You say to him, trying to catch your breath as you fit a small giggle in between. Denji smiles, his head finally rising again to look you in your eyes.

“See you next Friday?” He asks with a gleam of mischief in his eyes. You can’t help but laugh.

“For sure.”

#csm smut #denjichainsawman #denji smut #denji x reader #★ csm

1K notes · View notes

daisybianca · 5 months ago

Text

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x femalereader

summary: Lewis proposes in a special ceremony—and it’s dirty

warnings: mentions of sexual activities, slight jealousy

(a/n): this is written from Lewis’ pov cuz I love my man obsessed

I MIGHT BE the filthiest person in her life right now. The dirtiest one, with the most disgusting thoughts about her. Do I care, though?

Absolutely not.

Will I let another man touch her?

Hah. Funny enough.

Because when this night is over, a ring will be circled around the fair flesh of her finger. And my initial will be curved into it. I’m sure of it.

My fiancé soon-to-be has chosen a red, long dress that hugs her curved body for tonight’s ceremony. I can see my parents eye her across the ballroom.

Our names are written on tonight’s sky. Mine and hers. The night is ours. And it’ll not be over until we say so.

Y/N appears at the very top of the stairs and her father rushes by her side, helping her to walk towards me. Reaching for her hand as soon as she reached the last step, the crowd ceases clapping.

I take her hand in mine. It fits perfectly, as always. She fits perfectly. Her body against mine. Her smart brain along with mine. Her eyes on mine.

Everything is perfect because she is a part of it.

“Lewis…” She approaches me and I can detect a particular glimpse of something in her beautiful eyes.

I curl my lips in a smile. “You’re the most beautiful woman in this room.” I say. I’m positive that everyone’s eyes and ears are focused on this moment. On us. “Probably in the entire world.”

She manages a smile, even though I can tell she’s nervous. About a hundred or so people have been gathered by me and her father to celebrate this day.

Three years ago, when the date was the same as it is this day, I met her.

Three years later, I’m marking her as mine. Officially, at least. Because I made sure she knew—and everyone else around us—she’s mind since the very first moment.

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” I push her towards me gently and cup her reddened cheeks with my hands.

Across my thumb, her initial is written on the surface with bold ink.

My hands are hers to use. Hers to lick. Hers to fuck. I wanted her to know that.

I turn around and smile at the guests. Toto gives me a reassuring father as he drinks a sip from his wine next to my father.

“Let’s dance,” I brush my lips across her ear, starting to make our way to the centre of the room.

“Lewis, you know I can’t dance in these shoes.” She lifts her right leg just a few inches and waves her dress so I can take a glimpse of her white heels.

I make sure to keep my tone quiet. “Y/N, I’ve seen you pole-dancing in stripper-heels.”

Her face turns into a darker shade of red. Her hands feels cold. Sweaty.

I don’t want her to fucking feel like that on a day as special as this one.

She has to calm down. And I’m the one obligated to make her do it.

I brush her long hair and press pecks on her temple, cheeks, lips… I stop on the neck because it’s a soft spot for me. Can’t let myself lose control in front of all my relatives, friends and coworkers. It’d be such a pity to grab her and take her to the closest room and ruin such an event.

I being a glass of red whine for her knowing how much she adores it. My hand never leaves her and I can tell that as the minutes pass, her breathing feels steadier.

One hour goes by.

Two.

It’s ten past something and about time I…

“Ladies and gentlemen.” I let y/n’s hand and climb on the stage, rolling the sleeves of my white shirt as I do so. “Thank you for attending tonight’s ceremony, to begin with. It is a special day for us and we are very pleased to share such a great moment with the people we love.”

The crowd above the stage claps, I can even take a glimpse of my dog, Roscoe, swirling around in Ricciardo’s embrace… everyone is overwhelmed and that brings a smile to my lips. But nothing compares to the burning sensation in my chest.

I don’t know what it is. But I know it’s a good feeling. I also got it the first time I met y/n. Or when I asked her out. Or when we first kissed or made love.

“I would like to invite my beautiful woman, y/n…” I control myself not to exclaim “fiancé” or “wife” instead of “woman”. I’m not hesitant to go on. “…on this stage with me.”

The people go thunderous and I help y/n to walk the few steps on the stage.

We arrive at the centre of the stage and the music stops.

All the lights on us. Everyone’s eyes.

It feels magical.

I look up and find the most beautiful pair of eyes I’ve ever seen already fixed on me. She’s smiling. It’s contagious so I grin as well. “Y/n…” I start but a voice interrupts my words.

“Go on one knee!” I identify Toyo’s voice in the first row as I reach for the velvet box in my pocket.

“On one knee!” Yells my father and then the guests go crazy.

I turn to my woman and smile. “Don’t ask me to go on one knee.” I say.

“As long as you don’t ask me to get on two knees.” She replies in a dirty voice, leaning towards me.”

“Baby, I want you in all for.”

She smiles again but no one hears our conversation. They still yell for me to propose on one knee.

Fuck. I’ll have to do this.

I grab the box tightly in my hand and do as asked. I get on my knees.

In front of my woman. The woman of my dreams.

I’ve been on my knees in front of y/n countless times before, but for educational purposes only. Nothing like this.

I raise my eyes. She’s crying.

I hold onto her hand. “Y/n…” I start. “Please make me the happiest man in the entire universe and accept this proposal.” I think my heart is going to explode. “Will you please marry me?”

The crowd erupts in a chaos of applause and I find myself trapped in her eyes. I expect her to say the word first, but she doesn’t.

She melts into my hands and buries her small face in my neck.

This has to be the most beautiful moment of my entire existence.

She’s crying and I think I am too honestly. “Yes, yes, yes! A million times yes, Lewis!” She almost creams and between tears, I grab her face and unite our temples. I apply a kiss on her mouth. It’s gently at first but then I can see her craving for more.

When I let her lips to catch my breath (I actually remembered that we are not alone, but in a room with our closest people and if she went on I would without hesitation forget their existence) I look into her eyes. I grab her delicate hand and take the ring out of the box.

It fits perfectly on her finger.

I look at her again and murmur, “Perfectly fitted. Just for you, baby. Just for my wife.”

••••••••••

240 notes · View notes

brokebonewritings · 9 months ago

Text

Moonlight Lovers

Gale Dekarios x Fem! Reader

Tags: 18+, Fluff, Smut, Domestic Bliss

Summary: You and Gale spend a lust filled evening together. One of the many shortly after returning to Waterdeep and getting married.

Word Count: 1.9K

Navigation || Masterlist

"The moon is a beautiful sight tonight, isn't it."

You jump as the husky voice appears to suddenly, but you turn around knowing that it's your husband. Gale leans in the doorway of the balcony as you stand at the rail looking up at the stars. You smile as you watch him walk to you, placing a kiss at the temple of your head.

As the cool breeze ruffled your hair, you closed your eyes and leaned into Gale's touch. His presence was a comforting anchor amidst the vastness of the night sky. Together, you both gazed at the luminous moon, its ethereal glow casting a soft radiance over the world below.

It seemed as if time stood still in that moment. The worries and troubles that had plagued you throughout the day melted away. You often sought solace in the late hours of the night, finding solace in the gentle dance between darkness and light.

Lost in your own thoughts, you whispered, "Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to touch the moon."

Gale chuckled softly, his warm breath tickling your ear. "Oh darling, if only we could reach out and grasp it. But sometimes, it's the beauty of things just beyond our reach that enthralls us the most."

You turned to look at Gale, his eyes shimmering with a mixture of longing and wonder. There was a distant look in his gaze, as if he were envisioning making it a reality. It was one of the many reasons you fell in love with him - his ability to see the extraordinary in the ordinary.

Lost in the allure of the night, you both continued to stand there. One of his hands holding your waist, as the other grips the rail. The world around you fell away as you found yourselves drifting into a shared reverie.

Suddenly a shooting star streaked across the sky, drawing a gasp of wonder from you. It was as if the universe was responding to your unspoken desires, affirming that there was indeed still magic left in this world.

"You've bewitched me, truly, you are even more stunning than the moon." Gale whispered, his voice barely audible over the gentle rustling of the wind. "I would give anything to make your dreams come true."

You turned to face him, your heart swelling with love for this man who cherished every ounce of your being. "And I, you," you replied, a tender smile gracing your lips.

He leans in and nuzzles your jawline with his nose. Peppering your skin with light kisses. As Goosebumps prickle your skin, you feel an electric current surge through your veins.

In that moment, you both knew that the moon was not the only thing that held irresistible allure in the night sky. The depth of your love for each other seemed to transcend the earthly realm, reaching heights that only the stars could fathom.

Gale's lips find yours, and the world around you dissolves into a sea of passion and desire. In each kiss, there is an unspoken promise of forever, a pledge to explore the wonders of life together.

"Do you ever regret what we have done?" You ask, the question comes suddenly and without warning. This causes him to stop his shower of his kisses.

Gale pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt or hesitation. His hand gently brushes against your cheek as he speaks, his voice filled with sincerity.

"Regret? Never," he murmurs, his gaze unwavering. "Every step we've taken, every choice we've made, has led us to this moment. And in this moment, I am the happiest man alive."

"I don't regret it either," you reply softly, your fingers intertwining with Gale's. "All those risks we took, all those obstacles we overcame, they were worth it to be here—to be with you."

His face softens, his eyes reflecting a profound sense of gratitude. "To be with you," he echoes, his voice filled with an overwhelming tenderness. "There is nothing in this world I would trade for the love we share."

You're quick to turn and jump in his arms. You wrap your legs around his waist as he holds you against the railing. Kissing him with full passion, you let your love and desire consume you both.

"You really are going to be the death of me, aren't you?"

"I might be but I think you've got me in a bind here, Mr. Dekarios."

"How so?"

Biting at his lower lip, and pulling ever so lightly. You hear him groan at the sensation. "Because my body, and soul are forever yours."

Gale's eyes darken with desire as he holds you tighter, his hands roaming over your body. "And mine, my love, belongs to you," he whispers huskily, his voice filled with an intoxicating mix of passion and adoration.

Without breaking eye contact, Gale carries you across the threshold into the bedroom. You had forgotten just how strong your husband was. When he approached the bed, he laid you down gently before climbing above you.

His eyes burn with a hunger that matches your own, igniting a fire within your veins. As he hovers above you, you feel the weight of his desire pressing against your body, a tantalizing promise of the passion to come.

With a feather-light touch, his fingertips trace the contours of your face, leaving a trail of fiery sensations in their wake. His lips meet yours in a searing kiss, an explosion of longing and need.

Clothing becomes an unnecessary barrier as he undresses you with gentle urgency. After freeing your breasts from the night shirt you were wearing, he gently kisses around your nipple before taking it into his mouth.

You arch your back, your chest rising and falling with each labored breath. The sensation is exquisite. Gale's hands continue to explore every inch of your body, leaving you panting with need.

"I need you," you whisper, your voice barely above a whisper.

Gale's eyes lock onto yours, the desire within them burning hotter than any flame. He leans down, his lips finding yours once more. This kiss is more intense, more desperate than any you've shared before.

His hands continue to roam over your body, his fingers tracing the curves of your hips, the dip of your waist. You feel yourself melting into him, your body responding to his touch with a yearning that threatens to consume you both.

As he presses you into the mattress, he lowers his head, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck. You can't help but moan, your body trembling with pleasure.

His fingers trail along your inner thigh, the anticipation building with every stroke. You let out a soft whimper, your body begging for more.

Finally, he reaches the apex of your desire, his fingers lightly caressing your most sensitive spot. You cry out, your hips bucking against his hand in a desperate attempt to find release.

Gale smiles, his eyes filled with lust. "You're mine, always." he growls, his voice low.

And with that promise, he slides two fingers inside you. You gasp as your body adjusts to the overwhelming invasion. Your hand grips his forearm, nails digging into his flash as he begins to pump his digits into you.

Your body trembles, and your mind is hazy with desire. You can feel him watching you, his gaze makes your heart race even faster.

His fingers continue pushing deeper, stretching you wide as he adds a third.

"Please," you whimper. "Please, I need more."

Gale responds by replacing his fingers with his mouth, his tongue lapping at the delicate folds of your core. The need for release consumes you completely. He knows just what to do, just how to make you come undone.

His tongue keeps searching, delving deeper, threatening to pull you into the abyss of ecstasy. Your body is aflame, your heart pounding against your ribs.

"Gale, I swear to you, if you do not take me right this instant, you will become a widower." You pant through your moans.

At the sound of your plea, Gale removes his mouth from your core and positions himself between your legs. "Come now, we can't have that now can we?"

You feel the swollen head of his erection brush against your entrance. As he pushes in, you gasp, your body stretching to accommodate him. You feel his warmth enveloping you, and you can't help but whimper at the sensation.

He begins to move, his hips swaying in a rhythm that matches the pounding of your heart. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, and your nails digging into his back.

He pulls almost all the way out, leaving only the head of his erection inside you, and then thrusts in deep once more. Your eyes meet, and he leans down, his lips brushing against yours as he continues to move inside you.

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and the sensation becomes exhilarating. You feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building with every thrust.

"I need you to tell me where to come." He says, his voice hoarse with desire.

Moaning loudly, you respond "Please, Inside me. Come inside me."

"You want me to fill you?" He grunts, as he thrusts in you. "Want to feel my seed spill inside of you."

"Yes! Gale, fuck yes!" You scream.

His eyes glint with hunger, and he obliges, increasing the pace and depth of his thrusts. You gasp, your head thrown back in pleasure as he continues to fuck you relentlessly.

"So fucking tight," he growls in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "You're going to make me come"

You reach up, your nails raking across his back, and grimace as you feel his hand cup one of your breasts. His fingers toy with your sensitive nipple, his thumb brushing against it in circles that send shivers down your spine.

Body screaming for release, you know it's close. You arch your back and beg him to keep going. With each thrust you feel his hips hitting against your clit. Your walls begin to clench around him, and you feel yourself tightening, ready to release.

Just when you think you can't take any more, Gale groans and thrusts deeper, harder, driving you over the edge. With a loud cry, you explode around him. Body shaking with pleasure.

His own seed begins to spill into you, filling you completely. As you continue to pant, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Gale's thrusts slow and then stop.

He collapses onto you, his weight heavy but comforting, as his heart beats wildly against your chest in sync with yours.

You both lie there, spent and breathless, your bodies melded together as one. The sweat from the exertion mingles with the remnants of your passion, leaving your skin glistening in the dim light of the room.

Gently, Gale lifts himself off you, his gaze never leaving yours. He kisses you tenderly, his lips soft and warm against yours, and you can taste the remnants of your lovemaking on his tongue.

As he pulls away, he looks down at your now-swollen lips, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. "That was incredible," he whispers, "You are incredible."

"As are you." You say, gently caressing his face.

Gale pulls up the covers and wraps you in his arms, his body still warm from the passion that just ensued. As he holds you close, your bodies still panting heavily from the exertion, you can help but marvel at the connection you share.

You close your eyes, feeling Gale's heartbeat against your cheek. "I love you more than anything,"

Gale responds with a sigh, "And I, you."

The words linger in the air as you both drift off, your bodies still entwined, and the promise of more passion to come.

join my taglist!

#baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate gale #bg3 gale #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #gale x reader #gale x tav #bg3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 smut #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #bones writes

405 notes · View notes

lendeah · 10 months ago

Text

Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight.

Pairing: Gale x Fem!Reader/Tav

Summary:

Upon reaching the Last Light Inn, your party is informed about the room arrangements: you will have to share rooms in pairs. Fate has it that you find yourself paired with a particularly charming wizard. To add a twist, there's only one bed. or Gale and Tav relive the "there was only one bed" trope.

Tags: Fluff and smut. They are so cute.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: NSFW (minors dni), thighs, frottage, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, touch starved Gale.

Note: This was going to be a prompt but it got out of hand. Anyway, a small gift for the Gale girlies (me, I am the Gale girlies). Also, not proofread and english isn't my first language, so be gentle!🫶🏻

"You will have to share rooms in pairs" Yaheira had deadpanned. After our long journey, we finally reached the Last Light Inn. We were hoping for a comfortable bed and some privacy, but our hopes were crushed.

Yaheira didn't seem fazed by our reactions, her expression remaining stoic.

"After all the blood, sweat and tears we poured into saving you lot back there this is the beautiful appreciation we get in return?" Astarion exclaimed dramatically, his tone laced with sarcasm.

Yaheira's cold stare silenced him. "Many soldiers are residing here, sacrificing their own comfort for our cause. Four of them have given up their bedchambers for your stay. You should be grateful," she reprimanded sharply.

The creaky wooden floors and musty smell hinted at the age of the building, but it was a small price to pay for a warm bed and shelter from the danger of the shadows outside. The group stood in a huddle, debating their next move. Wyll's voice rang out confidently "I propose we stay at the camp like we have been doing.".

Karlach's response was immediate and determined: "What, and die in the shadows? No, thank you."

You let out a frustrated sigh, feeling about to faint from weariness. "Guys, we're all exhausted. We should just accept the offer and get some rest. We practically sleep on top of each other every other day anyway."

"Yeah, but not on the same bed." Shadowheart chimed, giving Lae'zel a sly side glance. "And how would we determine who sleeps with whom, anyway?"

Gale, the ever-practical one, interjected: "Perhaps we could employ a method of chance, such as drawing straws, in order to make a resolution?"

So that's how Gale and you end up entering the old dusty and messy bedroom from the last Light Inn. The single bed in the middle seems to be laughing at us.

Gale sighs. "I knew sharing rooms wasn't a good idea. I should just crawl under the bed." He scans the room, eyes coming to rest on the window, with the dark sky looming outside. "I could sleep out there too." He pauses. "The prospect of such a cozy rest is indeed quite alluring. The brisk gusts brushing against my face, as I gaze upwards towards the unobstructed expanse of the starry heavens. Delightful, wouldn't you agree?"

He moves to get out of the door, but you grab his arm, your voice pleading, tinged with desperation from the exhaustion. "Please, Gale, I know it's uncomfortable, but can we just please do this tonight and figure out a better plan tomorrow?"

He swallows, glancing down at your fingers wrapped around his arms. "I-I don't think you realize just how difficult it'll be for me. This bed's too small, and it's too close, and—I can't."

I look at him with my eyes narrowed "If you don't get on the bed in the next five minutes, I am going to use my maze on you. And let me tell you, it hurts"

He looks at me dumbfounded ."...You wouldn't?" You give him a pointed stare. Of course, you don't mean to hurt him, but you are too tired to fight or move for that matter.

He swallows, looking you up and down again. Then he nods and turns toward the bed. "Uh, fine. I guess I'll, uh, get on the bed. However, I cannot guarantee that any peculiar occurrences will not transpire. I mean, not that I expect anything weird to happen. Just, you know, putting it out there. Okay, I'll stop talking now."

Your roll your eyes fondly at his rambling. As Gale awkwardly settles onto the edge of the bed, you quickly change into your undergarments and crawl into the other side. The bed creaks under both of your weight, making Gale flinch. The space feels narrow, forcing you close together. There's barely an inch in between, and any movement sends you brushing up against him. You can feel his body heat radiating off him, a little toasty.

"The dimensions of this bed are rather diminutive," he whispers, staring up at the ceiling under the blanket, unable to make eye contact with you.

"Aren't you sharp" you whisper teasingly.

"It's... it's tiny! How do you expect two fully-grown individuals to successfully sleep in this thing?" He says in an exasperated whisper. It is small, though. Feels like I'm being wrapped in a blanket... Except the blanket is another person.

I sigh in exhasperation, "Gale I am trying to sleep for god's sake!"

Gale shifts uncomfortably, trying to make himself as small as possible on the narrow bed. "I apologize, I didn't mean to disturb your slumber. I just...I can't get comfortable in such confined space."

You let out another sigh, feeling a little bad for him. "I'm sorry. This isn't your fault, but is it possible that we exchange our positions? I don't mean to inconvenience you, but I feel like I can't relax like this. I can sleep on the edge of the bed, and you can sleep in the middle."

You look at him, one second away from grabbing your maze for real. "Gale, there is no middle, every part of this damned bed is the edge!"

Gale, is still fidgeting on his side.

"This is ridiculous," you mutter under your breath.

"I know," he responds quietly. "I'm sorry." He bites his lip, looking up at the ceiling again. "It seems as though you are now stuck with me as your blanket," he says, turning his head in your direction. "I hope this arrangement does not cause any discomfort for you... I would not want to impede upon your sleep."

At that, you can’t help but smile fondly back at him "It could be worse," you remark softly. "I could be stuck with Halsin and his incessant snores."

"Halsin snores?" He blinks in genuine surprise. "I never would have guessed. Is it disruptive? Like a storm tearing through the night?"

You roll your eyes. "You wouldn't know, you sleep like a rock all night." Your words are playful, as you nudge him lightly with your elbow.

"I do not! I am an extremely light sleeper, in fact, the slightest noise can jolt me from my slumber. It's quite a remarkable feat, really." His brow furrows. "Wait, does this imply that you have observed me in my sleep?" He blurts out. He is now on his side too, both of us facing each other.

A soft chuckle escapes from your lips, banishing all thoughts of sleep. "Yeah," you remarked with a playful smile, "I must say, you look really cute when you're sleeping."

The moonlight streaming in through the window cast a gentle glow on Gale's face, making your heart swell with affection. His tousled hair and big brown eyes look even softer in this ambience.

His mouth drops open, his eyebrows now shooting up to his hairline. "I do not look cute while I sleep!"

"So cute, with your cheeks all puffed," you say, reaching out to pinch his cheek playfully.

Gale's face flushes a bright red and he turns away, trying to hide his embarrassment.

"I—I'm not cute when I sleep," he whispers." I am powerful! A talented wizard, a master of magic. I do not need to be "cute". And I'm not!" But as he protests, you can't help but notice the way his cheeks flush and how his hair sticks up in all directions, making him look endearingly disheveled. You can't resist the temptation and reach over to tickle his middle. "Cutie!"

"I am not!" he protests, giggling as you tickle him. "Stop it! You're making me... gahahaha!" His laughter bubbles out of him despite his attempts to hold it in.

You laugh too, enjoying the sound of his laughter. "See? Cute."

"I'm not cute!" he gasps out between laughs. "I'm... hahaha... I'm powerful!" He tries to sit up, but you pin him down with your hand on his chest. "You are cute, Gale. And you're adorable when you laugh," you say, looking into his eyes. He looks at you, his cheeks still flushed with laughter and embarrassment. For a moment, the two of you just stare at each other before Gale clears his throat and lays on his side again.

"Gale?" I call out softly, hoping to break the silence.

"Yes...?"His voice is barely audible.

Smirking mischievously, you decide to push his buttons a little more.

"You know, I have trouble falling asleep unless I'm cuddled up next to someone." you whisper

He flinches. It takes a moment for your request to fully register, and he stares at you with a mixture of shock and confusion.

"...Are you serious? You want me to cuddle you?"

You nod eagerly, a hopeful smile playing on your lips. "Usually it would be Shadowheart offering, but she's not here right now."

"You want—me, to wrap my arms around you, to..."

His eyes narrow. "Am I hearing you right? You're asking me, to hold you?"

You roll my eyes "Yes Gale, that is usually how cuddling works."

Gale looks at you, taken aback by your request. His face flushes with embarrassment as he considers your words. "Um...I-I'm not entirely certain if that would be a prudent course of action," he stammers out, looking away from you.

"Forget it," Frustration wells up inside of you and you let out a low grunt before turning away to face the opposite side of the room.

"Er- I mean, wait, that wasn't a rejection... " He scoots closer, careful not to touch you. You turn yourself, so you are looking at him again. He looks down at you with a nervous expression. "So if I were to, hypothetically speaking, encircle my arms around your form, you wouldn't object?"

For some reason, your heart skips a beat at the thought of his arms around you.

"Well," you respond playfully. "I would probably say something along the lines of 'thank you very much Gale, goodnight'."

He hesitates for a moment before finally inching closer, his arm hovering uncertainly in the air. With a deep breath, he takes the plunge and wraps his arm around you, pulling you gently against his chest. You let out a surprised gasp, not expecting him to actually cuddle you, but the warmth and comfort that radiate from him are welcome in the cold room. You nestle into his embrace, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your ear and inhaling the intoxicating combination of an old book's musty pages and his rich cologne, laced with a subtle hint of sweat. You wrap your arms tighter around his soft body, savoring the feeling of being held in his strong embrace.

"Thank you, Gale" you whisper, intertwining your fingers behind his back. "Goodnight."

As the exhaustion of your journey settles over you, you feel the familiar pull of sleep in your body. However, the moment is disturbed by the feeling of something hard poking your stomach. Your eyes snap open and meet Gale's, who stands there frozen with shock and embarrassment.

"I... I'm sorry," he stammers out, mortified. "I didn't mean for that to happen. It's just been so long and you are so close and..."

Your bodies are still pressend, and you try to make sense of everything. Finally, you laugh softly and pat his arm reassuringly. "It's okay, Gale. There's nothing to be embarrassed about." you say reassuringly, though you can feel a blush creeping up your cheeks.

"But... but I didn't mean for this to happen," he repeats, still clearly flustered.

"It's natural," you say calmly, trying to put him at ease. "It happens sometimes when people get close like this."

Gale nods slowly, still looking a little uncertain. He shifts slightly so that the bulge isn't pressing against your body as much anymore. "Thank you for understanding," he says quietly. Your heart swells with affection as you watch him; there is something endearing about his vulnerability in this moment. You have an overwhelming urge to pull him close, to shield him from any harm and take care of him.

A twinge of guilt tugs at your conscience as you watch the flush rise in his cheeks, a direct result of your teasing. You chew on your lip for a moment before an idea strikes you. "Do you... want me to lend a hand?" You offer tentatively, gazing up at him with soft eyes and a gentle tone. His big brown orbs widen in surprise at your unexpected offer. You are also taken aback by your own words, but don't take them back.

He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. You can see the struggle in his expression as he tries to process what you just said.

"I mean, it's completely up to you," you quickly add, not wanting to pressure him into anything. "I just thought maybe it would help alleviate some of your... discomfort."

He takes a deep breath and looks away from you, clearly embarrassed. Gale hesitates for a moment before nodding slowly. "Okay," his voice barely above a whisper.

Your heart races at his acceptance. You were not expecting him to actually agree to your offer, but you are weirdly glad he did. "Okay," you repeat softly, moving your hand down to his waist and pulling him closer. You slowly reach down between both your bodies, gently taking hold of his erection through his pants. Gale gasps softly as your fingers brush against him, sending shivers down his spine. You can feel his breath hitch in anticipation as you start to move your hand up and down. As you gaze up at him, his arms still holding your body, a deep stirring awakens within you. The wizard before you, with his eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, is more attractive than you had ever realized. His tanned skin is like velvet against your fingertips, and his long hair falls over his face in gentle waves. Each reaction to your caress, every soft moan that escapes his lips, only adds fuel to the fire growing inside of you. Looking so eager for your touch.

Without hesitation, you lean forward and capture his lips in a gentle kiss. To your surprise, he responds enthusiastically, his hands moving to rest on your face as he pulls you closer to him. You deepen the kiss, your heart racing at the feeling of his warm lips against yours and the subtle tickle of his beard on your cheeks. As you continue to kiss, your hands never stops the gentle strokes on his erection. Gale's moans are becoming louder and more urgent. You can feel his need growing as he grinds against your hand, seeking more friction.

"L-let me touch you" he says between ragged breaths.

You smile at him, feeling a sense of satisfaction at the effect you're having.

"I have a better idea," you say softly, moving your hand away from his erection. You take off your panties, and move on your side in front of him again. Gale lets out a small gasp as you straddle him, feeling the heat of his arousal pressed against your bare thighs.

"What are you doing?" he asks, his voice thick with both curiosity and lust.

A mischievous grin plays on your lips. "I'm going to give you something even better than my hand to relieve yourself," you purr, swaying your hips in demonstration in a slow, enticing rhythm, that elicits a delicious friction between his cock and the warm heat of your thighs and cunt.

You take one of his hands and guide it to your breast, letting him feel its softness and moaning quietly at the touch. Gale's eyes widen in surprise, gently squeezing it but with his eyes fixed on yours.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, reaching up to touch your face with his free hand.

"Thank you, so are you," you reply, leaning down to capture his lips in another tender kiss. He seems to find your praise very arousing, as his breathing quickens and he thrusts his hips upward, seeking more contact with your body. In response, you arch your back and press your chest against him, savoring the feel of his erection against your core and thighs.

"I want you so much," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "I've been dreaming of this moment for so long but I never- I didn’t think-“ he gasps at a particularly good thrust.

You're not sure how to answer, so instead you keep whispering sweet nothings in his ear. "You're an amazing kisser, Gale," you say, "you touch me so good..."

He moans in your mouth, gripping your hips harder as he keeps pounding erratically. Your hands move to his hair, pulling from the strands and eliciting a small whine from his throat. You can feel the hardness of his erection brushing against your wet folds with every movement, and it sends shivers of pleasure down your spine. You let out a moan into his lips as his fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing small circles that send sparks of pleasure throughout your body. Feeling his arousal growing even more, you know he won't last much longer, so you move your hips in a faster rhythm, grinding against his cock with more urgency.

Gale lets out a low growl, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he matches your movements. The friction between your bodies is almost unbearable, but in the most delicious way possible. As you continue to move together, your breaths growing heavier and more ragged, you can feel the familiar sensation of your orgasm building within you too. Gale seems to be close as well, as he begins to thrust deeper and harder into your thighs, his breath hot and ragged against your neck. You can hear the slap of skin and the squelching sound of your now wet thighs.

"Oh, gods," he gasps out, feeling himself getting closer and closer to the edge. "I'm gonna..."

His body suddenly tenses up as he comes undone, his hips bucking wildly as he spills himself into the soft skin. For several moments, Gale lies there panting and gasping for breath.

"Oh, gods," he gasps out. "That was...amazing."

You lean and press a gentle kiss to his lips, smiling at him as you do.

"I'm glad it brought you pleasure," you whisper softly, running your fingers through his hair.

Suddenly, his skilled fingers find their way back to your core. He seems to sense that you didn't reach climax with him earlier and now he's determined to make sure you do. His touch is intense as he circles and rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You let out a moan, arching your back and grinding against his hand. He watches you with intense desire in his eyes as he continues to pleasure you.

"Gods, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his voice husky with lust. "I am not going to be able to forget this."

His words only fuel your desire even more, and you can feel yourself getting closer to the edge once again. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you ride the waves of pleasure, your hips moving in sync with his fingers.

"I want to make you feel good," Gale says breathlessly, kissing along your neck and collarbone. "Tell me what feels good."

You guide his hand lower, signaling for him to enter you with his fingers. He complies eagerly, sliding two fingers inside of you and curling them just right to hit that perfect spot. You cry out in pleasure, your walls clenching around him. You know you are not going to last long, still sensitive from the previous ministrations.

"Thank the heavens and hells," Gale groans, looking at me like I am a work of art. Setting a steady pace with his fingers, he kisses down your chest and takes one nipple into his mouth. The combination of sensations has you teetering on the edge once again.

"I-I'm close," you manage to say between gasps.

"Come for me," Gale whispers against your skin, increasing the speed and pressure of his movements.

With a final thrust of his fingers and a flick of his tongue against your hardened nipple, you come undone in a powerful climax that leaves you panting and shaking in Gale's arms. He holds onto you tightly as he continues to pleasure you through the aftershocks.

"That was incredible," he murmurs against your skin as he peppers kisses all over your face.

"Yes it was," you reply dreamily, still basking in the afterglow.

Gale pulls out from between your thighs and settles down next to you, his strong arms enveloping you in a warm embrace. As you press your body closer to his, you feel a subtle shift, an unspoken understanding passing between the two of you. Instead of voicing it out loud, you turn to him and whisper,

"Thank you very much, Gale. Goodnight"

#bg3 fanfiction #gale x reader #bg3 #bg3 fanfic prompt #bg3 tav #gale x tav #gale fanfic #baldurs gate fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 #gale baldurs gate #gale #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #bg3 gale #baldurs gate gale

557 notes · View notes

stxrshxpxd · 3 months ago

Text

🐉 fic friday

the nights were ours

daemon targaryen x reader

secret relationship, soft daemon & caraxes

I had spent the last month in The Red Keep as my older brother was well on his way to be betrothed to princess Rhaenyra. He had insisted it would be a nice change of scenery for me and he couldn’t have been more right.

Rhaenyra’s uncle Daemon had stared me down across every room we’d been in the first week, and I had walked as if on eggshells around him. It wasn’t until he first spoke to me that I realised his heavy gaze was of something quite different than hate.

That same night he had insisted I stay up when the rest of the kingdom went to sleep. There was something about his presence that had made me unable to decline his advances when he had kissed me against a cold tree in the dusk. He had seen something he wanted and taken it.

Soon the nights were ours. That was when we came alive. And I had never felt so alive before. Exchanging discreet looks across rooms in the daylight, and sneaking into his chamber at night. Feeling his sturdy fingers curl into my flesh amongst his sheets and watching his pleased smiles flicker in the dull candlelight. Waking up with his heavy arm caging me in against his bare chest and wondering when and how I would have to sneak back to my own bed chamber.

Tonight we were outside. It was dark but there was a fire in Daemon’s eyes as he led me down a terrain of uneven stones. I could see the outlines of a massive dragon begin to form in the dark. Even more so I heard its heavy breaths and felt the heat hit me in intervals. He had promised I would be safe as long as I stuck by his side.

“My brother would have your head if I was burned by dragon fire,” I reminded with a soft giggle and squeezed Daemon’s hand. I only saw the back of his head but I could almost make out the beaming smirk on his lips.

“I’d quite like to see him try.”

He was right of course. I had recognised quickly there was probably no one I knew that could measure up to Daemon in a fight.

With every step I got more and more nervous, as details of the dragon’s vicious face grew more visible. He flashed his teeth in a casual manner and my instincts almost made me halt. I had only ever seen dragons in the sky. From that far away I hadn’t been able to tell that their teeth were the same size as me.

“He’s gracious to those who deserve it,” Daemon said in an attempt to ease my anxiety. I grimaced with uncertainty and he gave a small smile.

“You are the sweetest girl I have ever known,” he declared in a hoarse whisper and caught my face in both his hands, staring down at me from his significant height. My gaze flickered between his moonlit face and the bored looking dragon behind him.

“He would never think to harm you. Trust me.”

Trust him. Somehow I did. He placed a gentle kiss on my lips and my stomach fluttered.

He turned around at last and gave me a vague gesture to stay still for now, as he closed the distance between him and his dragon.

“Caraxes,” he spoke his name in a steady and warm tone, laying his palms and forehead against the angular nose. The dragon huffed softly and closed his eyes for a moment. I held my breath as my heart softened.

“Come,” Daemon whispered and glanced back at me. I grabbed his extended hand and walked on wobbly legs the last steps up to the calm beast. I held my breath again and felt nearly lightheaded as I allowed Daemon to place my smaller hand against the side of Caraxes’ face. His eyes opened in curiosity and it felt as if my heart stopped for a moment. I could feel sweat begin to form on my top lip.

Daemon hushed softly into the quiet night but I couldn’t tell who he was trying to calm down, me or his dragon.

Caraxes’ scales were rough to the touch and cold despite exhaling incredible heat with every breath. I was absolutely astounded at the power he held in his body. With every long inhale he took I watched his torso expand and I felt the vibration in my finger from his throaty exhales. At last he closed his eyes again and I could release my own breath.

“I told you he would like you,” Daemon mumbled and I laughed breathily. I caught a softness in his eyes which I had learned was rare to find in him. Maybe only in the heavy darkness could he allow himself to smile at me so purely.

#romanticising daemon and caraxes yup yup 👍🏼👍🏼👍🏼#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #fic #imagine #blurb #fic friday

166 notes · View notes

cyberl6ve · 3 months ago

Text

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐑! 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 ─ 𝟐 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐒

CHECK 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊 FOR MORE!! (NSFW!)

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

── .✦ : Under the LA night sky, Matt Sturniolo and Y/N find themselves parked by the ocean. The sky a deep canvas of midnight blues, and the only sound is the rhythmic crash of waves against the shore. By the late hour and the solitude of their surroundings, the smoke hangs in the air, mingling with unspoken words and unexplored desires. They find themselves drawn into a dance of attraction and longing, unsure where the night will lead them next.

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · · 𝟑𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 !! · · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

⋆˙⟡ STORY CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT !! ⋆˙⟡

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ : 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭’𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫, the dim light from the dashboard casting his face in shadows that danced with the ocean’s steady rhythm outside.

My heart thumped, its beat in time with the waves crashing against the shore he had parked by.

Only the two of us, the night air thick with unspoken words and the acrid scent of smoke from our shared blunt.

Matt’s fingers grazed mine, his touch sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cool night air. His eyes, in the inky darkness, flickered with a mixture of attraction and something else.

Matt leaned back against his seat, he gazed out towards the vast ocean before us.

The steady crash of waves against the shore was the only soundtrack to our silence. I took a deep drag off the blunt, the smoke curling around me, lost in thought.

From the corner of my eye, I could see Matt’s profile, his chiseled jaw set in concentration as he fixated on the horizon.

There was a tangible tension in the air, the ocean not the only thing that seemed to be pulling and rolling around us.

Just when I thought the silence would consume us, Matt finally turned to me, his eyes finding mine in the dim glow of the car.

He watched as I passed him the blunt, the end glowing a deep orange in the quiet of the night.

“You're awfully quiet tonight,” he murmured, the words just louder than the rhythm of the ocean.

I shrugged, feeling surprisingly vulnerable under his intense gaze.

“Just thinking,” I admitted, watching as Matt took a deep drag off the blunt, the smoke curling around his face before disappearing in the night air.

“About?” he prompted, his voice gentle yet curious.

I let out a humorless laugh, unsure of how much I wanted to reveal. “Everything, I guess. Life, love, the universe...” I trailed off, suddenly feeling silly.

Matt merely chuckled, the deep sound of it sending a pang straight to my heart. “Very deep for such a late hour,” he teased, handing the blunt back to me.

I took the blunt, my fingers brushing against Matt's in the exchange. The brief contact sent a shock down my spine. “Can't help it,” I murmured, lifting the blunt to my lips. “The night's for contemplation, isn't it?”

Matt shook his head, a low chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. He leaned back against the seat, spreading his legs slightly.

The position was casual, but to me, in the dark, in the quiet of the night, it felt intimate. My mind started to drift to places it probably shouldn’t.

I couldn’t help the thought that kept circling around in my head, relentless and increasingly inappropriate. I wanted him, right here, right now...

My cheeks burned as the realization of my thoughts dawned on me. I quickly took another drag off the blunt, desperate to distract myself. But it was no use, the more I tried to ignore the feeling, the stronger it grew.

The sight of him, so close, yet seemingly so far away, was driving me insane. I wanted to reach out, touch him, taste him…

All of it. His sharp jawline that I longed to trace with my fingers, the intricate tattoos on his left arm that I ached to explore, the messy hair that I yearned to run my hands through, and those lips...those sinfully perfect lips that I wanted to feel against my skin.

My mind was a wild storm of want, and there was no calming it down.

I took another long drag off the blunt, desperate for something to focus on other than my racing thoughts. Matt sat back against the seat, oblivious to the effect he was having on me.

It was almost like torture, the way he sat there, so casual and relaxed, while my body was a taut string of desire.

I couldn't help but watch him, my eyes tracing every contour of his body. The way his chest rose and fell with each breath, the curve of his biceps as his arms rested on his thighs. Everything about him was sending my heart into overdrive.

I swallowed hard and passed the blunt back to Matt, our fingers brushing against each other in the exchange.

His touch, even this simple, almost innocent, sent a jolt through me. I leaned back against the seat, my eyes never leaving him.

The silence that had once felt comfortable now felt charged, the tension in the air almost crackling with unmet need.

“Come here,” his voice was a low rumble, his hand gently grasping the back of my neck, pulling me towards him. His face was only a few inches from mine, his breath warm against my skin.

He took one final drag from the blunt before leaning in, his lips so close I could feel every exhale. Then, he exhaled, the smoke passing from his mouth to mine in a cloud of desire and need.

I let out a shaky breath as the smoke filled my lungs, my body shuddering under the weight of my yearning. He was so close, his eyes fixed on mine, but yet so far away. I wanted to close that distance, to feel his skin against mine, to lose myself in the heat of him.

His grip on my neck tightened slightly, his thumb tracing maddening circles along the sensitive skin.

I could feel the heat radiating off him, the smell of his cologne and the lingering smoke from the blunt, an intoxicating mixture that was making my head swim.

I looked away, my nerves getting the better of me. Feeling flustered and raw, I reached forward to turn on the radio. A soft melody filled the car, Jhene Aiko’s “2 Seconds” setting a somber but sensual tone.

Matt leaned back in his seat, his arm stretching over the top of the passenger seat.

The radio played on, the soft lighting of the car casting shadows on Matt's already chiseled features. He was so close, yet felt so distant. I could feel the weight of his arm on the back of the seat, the heat of his body barely contained.

The lyrics of the song seemed to echo the desires and the fears running through my mind. Two seconds was all it would take to close the gap, to give into the fire that burned so fiercely within me.

I snuck a glance at him through the veil of my lashes, watching as his fingers tapped along to the music. He was seemingly relaxed, at ease, while my body was coiled tight, the tension coiled in my core like a snake ready to strike.

The song continued, its slow, seductive beat matching the tumultuous emotions within me. I wanted him, but I was scared of what that meant, of what would change if I gave in to my desires.

Matt broke the heavy silence, holding up the blunt. “Wanna finish it off?” he asked, offering it to me.

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat as I took the blunt from him. I placed it between my lips, inhaling deeply, the smoke burning in my lungs. As I exhaled, I felt a wave of calm wash over me, mixing with the restlessness lingering beneath the surface.

My heart was hammering in my chest as I took the last hit from the blunt. As I inhaled, I made a risky move.

I reached out, my fingers gently grasping Matt’s face. I pulled him closer, our mouths only centimeters apart. He looked surprised at my boldness, his eyes widening for a moment before a smirk played on his lips.

I exhaled, the smoke from the hit curling into his mouth, making my heart flutter wildly.

Matt's lips quirked into a smile as he exhaled the smoke. He leaned back, his gaze studying my face. “Cheeky,” he murmured, his eyes dark.

I tossed the scraps of the blunt out the window, rolling my eyes at his remark. The teasing was starting to drive me wild, my body on edge and my mind racing with need.

I looked at him, my patience wearing thin. “You're such a tease,” I muttered, my voice soft but laced with want. “Just fuck me already, Matt.”

Matt chuckled, a wicked smile on his lips. “Ah, I see now,” he said, his voice low and gravelly. “That's why you were so quiet earlier, just thinking about me, weren’t you?”

I had had enough. I opened the car door, irritation mixing with my desire. “I'm walking home,” I huffed, stepping out into the cool night air.

I was about to storm off, but his strong grip on my wrist stopped me. “I’m kidding,” he said, his tone playful. “Come here, sweetheart.”

He pulled me back into the car, his hand gripping my neck gently, sending sparks through my body. And then, he kissed me, his lips claiming mine in a kiss that was both tender and possessive.

He pulled away just enough to speak, his lips moving against my skin as he whispered.

“Thinking about this for hours, huh?” he murmured, his breath hot against my throat. “Me, my body, the things I could do to you. You were driving yourself crazy, weren’t you?”

His lips danced along my neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “You wanted me, right here, right now,” he continued, his voice low and sultry. “And I'm gonna give you exactly what you want.”

The words seemed to awaken something in me, my body responding to his touch and his voice as he described the very thoughts that had been consuming me.

He nuzzled against my neck, his teeth gently nipping at my skin. “You were driving me crazy, the way you looked at me,” he murmured, his lips on my ear. “I could practically feel the desire pouring off of you.”

His hands roamed my body, his touch burning through my clothes, igniting every nerve ending, every fiber of my being.

With a new sense of determination, I placed my hands on his shoulders and shifted, straddling his lap. I could feel the heat radiating off him, his body taut like mine. I reached down, searching for the button to push the seat back.

“Eager, are we?” he murmured, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me harder against him. I wanted him, I wanted now, and I wasn't going to wait any longer.

My lips traced a fiery path down the column of his neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin as I went. Matt's hands slid up my back, his fingers tangling in my hair, holding me in place as he tilted his head to give me better access. “Fuck, Y/N,”

“Y/N,” Matt breathed, his voice ragged with need. My name on his lips was like a prayer, a plea for more. He pulled me closer still, my chest pressed against his, feeling the rapid pounding of his heart.

With a hunger that couldn't be denied, I tugged at the hem of Matt's shirt, eager to feel the heat of his skin against mine. He lifted his arms, allowing me to pull the fabric up and over his head.

As the fabric of his shirt slid off, Matt's hair tumbled back down, framing his chiseled features in a messy halo. He looked like a god, raw and untamed.

My hands roamed over his bare chest, feeling the warmth and strength of his body. I leaned in, capturing his lips in a hungry kiss, our tongues dancing together as we lost ourselves in each other.

His taste, his touch, it was intoxicating. I deepened the kiss, my fingers tracing the ridges of his abdomen as I sought more of his skin. Matt groaned into my mouth, his hands sliding down to grip my ass, pulling me harder against the growing bulge in his pants.

As we kissed, my hands went to work on unbuckling Matt's belt. The clink of metal and the sound of his zipper lowering filled the air. I tugged at the waistband of his pants, desperate for more skin, for more of him.

The heat between us was palpable, the desire a tangible force driving us closer. I let my hand slip into his boxers, feeling the hot and hard length of his cock, giving it a firm squeeze as we continued to kiss, our lips and tongues moving in a familiar, passionate dance.

My fingers wrapped around his throbbing cock, stroking him through the thin fabric of his boxers. Matt's hips bucked into my touch, a guttural moan escaping him as he broke the kiss. His eyes were dark with lust, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

I continued to stroke him, my hand moving in long, slow strokes. The sound of our heavy breathing filled the car, lips swollen from kissing, eyes locked in a heated gaze. Matt's head fell back as I increased the pace, his body trembling with pleasure.

I took advantage of Matt's momentary lapse in concentration and leaned in, pressing gentle kisses to his neck and along his Adam's apple. He tilted his head back, giving me better access as a low moan rumbled in his chest.

My hand sped up, stroking his cock with urgent, rough movements. Matt's eyes rolled back, his mouth falling open as he let out a high-pitched moan, the sound tearing from his throat like a cry of desperation. “Fuck, fuck, fuck...”

Matt's hand shot out, gripping my wrist in a desperate plea. “God damn it, Y/N, I need your lips on my cock.” he panted hotly, his words almost tumbling over themselves in a heated rush.

His eyes burned with a fevered intensity as he released my hand and reached down, shoving his boxers out of the way. His cock sprang free, thick and hard, the head glistening with precum. “Please, Sweetheart,” he whispered, voice hoarse with need,

In a swift motion, I slid down, bringing my face level with his straining erection. Matt's breath caught as I wrapped my lips around the swollen head, swirling my tongue to taste the salty sweetness of his precum.

The confined space of the car made things tricky, but I managed to bob my head, taking him deeper into my warm, wet mouth with each movement. Matt's hands fisted in my hair, holding me in place as he began to thrust shallowly, fucking my mouth with desperate urgency.

Saliva dripped from the corners of my mouth, coating his throbbing length and making each thrust glide easier. The wet sounds of my mouth on his cock filled the car, punctuated by Matt's low moans and stuttering breaths.

Matt's voice was barely more than a strangled whisper, “Y/N... Fuck... I'm not gonna last long at this rate.” I pulled my lips off him just long enough to reply with a cocky grin, “Then cum for me, baby. Show me what you've got.”

I sealed my lips around his cockhead once more, my tongue working overtime to lap at the sensitive underside. I sucked and slurped, making sure to hit every inch of his shaft with wet, eager kisses, like I was licking a popsicle on a hot summer day.

I didn't break eye contact with Matt as I tried to swallow him whole. My lips stretched around his girth, and my tongue pressed hard against the bottom of his shaft. The tip of him hit the back of my throat, making me tense for a moment before pushing further.

Matt's hands gripped my head, guiding me gently along the length of his cock. Saliva coated my chin and dripped onto my chest as I tried to deep throat him repeatedly, determined to make him lose control.

My mouth felt slutty, my tongue a whore. I moaned around Matt's dick, letting the vibrations ripple through him. My eyes watered as I struggled to take him deeper, but I didn't care.

My dirty little mouth was a sloppy, wet hellhole, coated in Matt's pre-cum and the taste of his musk. I sucked and slurped, making obscene noises like a depraved slut, reveling in the filthiness of the act.

“Fuck!” Matt bellowed as his cock twitched violently, pulsing thick ropes of cum deep into my throat. I swallowed greedily, milking him for every drop as his orgasm overtook him, his seed burning down my throat.

The taste of his cum lingered on my tongue, salty and bitter yet oddly satisfying. I pulled back slowly, letting his dick flop from my mouth with a wet plop, a strand of cum connecting my lips to him for a brief moment before breaking.

I climbed onto Matt's lap, straddling him as I reached for the hem of my shirt. With a coy smile, I pulled it over my head, revealing the lacy bra that barely contained my eager breasts. Matt's eyes darkened with desire as his hands found my hips, gripping me tightly.

Matt's fingers deftly unclipped my bra, releasing my breasts to bounce free. Throwing the bra in his back seat. He palmed them roughly, thumbs circling my nipples, making them pebble under his touch. I let out a soft moan, arching into his hands as he squeezed and kneaded my sensitive flesh.

I gasped at the sudden contact, my back arching as Matt's lips closed around my nipple. He sucked hungrily, tongue flicking and teasing the hardened tip. I tangled my fingers in his hair, pulling him closer as I moaned in pleasure.

My hips rocked against Matt's, seeking friction and heat. I was feeling so dirty, so wanton, and I loved every second of it. My hands roamed over his chest, teasing and pinching at his nipples as I ground against him. “Fuck, I need you, Matt,”

Without hesitation, I hooked my thumbs under the waistband of my shorts and slid them down, revealing a trail of wetness that led to my eager sex. Slowly, I reached between us, wrapping my fingers around Matt's throbbing cock.

I positioned the head of his cock at my entrance, teasing the sensitive bud with the tip as I rubbed my slick folds against him. Then, with a deep breath, I sank down, taking him into me inch by delicious inch until he was fully sheathed. “Oh fuck, yes,”

Matt took control, his hands gripping my hips as he thrust upwards, filling me completely. I gasped, my head falling back as he began to pound into me with an intensity that stole my breath away.

“You love this, don't you? You love the way I fuck you, hard and fast,” Matt growled, his hips meeting mine with a wet slap. His words only served to fuel my desire, my body writhing in pleasure as he claimed me, marking me as his.

Matt's voice was rough with desire as he grunted, “This is what you wanted, didn't you? To be fucked like the slut you are, to have my cock pistoning in and out of your greedy pussy until you're begging for more.”

I couldn't get a word out, my mind consumed by the sensations Matt's cock was evoking in me. Every thrust sent waves of pleasure crashing through me, leaving me breathless and whimpering in need.

“You're so fucking tight,” Matt groaned, his hands gripping the swell of my hips as he thrust deeper and harder into me. “So wet and needy for my cock. You were made for this, weren't you? Made to be fucked like the little slut you are.”

Matt's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming brutal and unrelenting. “Take it, you filthy little slut,” he snarled, his hips slapping against mine with a lewd rhythm. “I'll fuck you so hard, you'll never forget who owns this tight little cunt.”

“Matt,” I moaned, my voice trembling with need as I clawed at his back, urging him deeper. “Matt, please... harder... please...” The words were barely intelligible, lost in a sea of gasps and pants as he ravaged me with his cock.

Matt's pace became erratic, his thrusts becoming wild and borderline violent. He was relentless in his pursuit of pleasure, uncaring of the consequences. “You want more?” Matt growled, grabbing a fistful of my hair and pulling my head back, exposing my throat to him. “You're fucking insatiable.”

Matt's lips found the column of my neck, planting rough kisses that left behind marks, his claims to me written in red. “You're mine,” he whispered against my skin, his teeth scraping along the sensitive flesh. “Mine, mine, mine...”

Matt's arms wrapped around my back, pulling me flush against him as he surged forward, his cock plunging deep into me with a ferocity that stole my breath. I moaned into the crook of his neck, my body trembling in his embrace as he took me with a intensity that bordered on violence.

Matt's thrusts became faster, more urgent as he drove himself deeper and harder into me, our bodies slick with sweat. My moans turned to cries of pleasure as I felt myself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. “Yes, yes, just like that!”

My moans and whimpers filled the air, a desperate litany of need and pleasure. “Harder, Matt, please... I need it... need you... so deep... ah, fuck!” I ground myself against him, meeting his thrusts with a wanton eagerness.

“Yes, oh god, yes!” I cried out as he drove himself deeper into me. My body trembled in his arms, my nails digging into his shoulders as I felt myself spiraling towards a shattering climax. “Fuck, Matt, don't stop... please don't stop.”

The car rocked violently, the sound of the waves crashing against the shore and the scent of the ocean outside adding to the sensory experience. Our bodies moved in a primal rhythm, our cries mingling with the sounds of the night.

“Yes, yes, Fuck!” Matt groaned, his hips snapping against mine as he drove himself deeper. His fingers dug into my hips, pulling me closer as he plundered my body. “Fuck, you're so tight... so fucking hot...”

I could only moan in response, lost in the pleasure that was coursing through my veins. “Yes, Matt... Yes!” I cried out, my legs shaking as he hit just the right spot. “Please, Baby... I'm so close...”

The taboo nature of the act, fucking my best friend and dealer, only heightened my arousal. We were in a car parked in front of an ocean view at 3 in the morning. It was crazy, dangerous, wrong... and yet it felt so right. It was so good. I couldn't believe the depravity of it all and yet I craved more, needed it like a drug.

The waves crashed against the shore, a wild symphony that echoed the storm of pleasure building inside me. I could feel myself on the brink, my body tensing as I prepared for the deluge of sensations that were about to consume me. “Matt... Oh God, Matt!”

Stars exploded behind my eyelids as the orgasm ripped through me, waves of intense pleasure crashing over me in dizzying succession. I screamed his name, my voice hoarse and raw, as my body shook and convulsed beneath him. “Matt, Matt, Matt...”

The orgasm seemed to go on forever, each pulse of pleasure more intense than the last. I could feel Matt's movements growing more erratic, his thrusts becoming shorter and more urgent as he chased his own release. “Fuck, Sweetheart, I'm gonna cum,”

Matt's words were barely a whisper, his breath hot against my ear as he pounded into me with reckless abandon. “I'm cumming, Baby, I'm cumming!” His body tensed, his hips jerking as he emptied himself inside me, filling me with his hot, sticky seed.

I moaned softly as I felt the warmth of Matt's release inside me, his thick cum coating my inner walls. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving against mine as he tried to catch his breath. I giggled, a low, husky sound that sent shivers down my spine.

I leaned forward, planting a soft kiss on Matt's lips as I began to move my hips again, riding him slowly. He groaned, his hands moving to my hips as I rocked back and forth, grinding against him with each stroke. “Fuck, Sweetheart,”

“Didn't know you can make me feel that good,” I panted, a teasing smirk on my lips. Matt let out a chuckle, his eyes sparkling with amusement and a hint of pride. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me in close as he captured my mouth in a deep, passionate kiss.

With a groan, Matt gently lifted me off him, his hands gripping my hips as he did so. A mixture of our juices spilled out of me, trailing down his cock and pooling on the car seat beneath us. He smiled, a satisfied and lazy look in his eyes.

“Look at that mess you made,” Matt said, his voice low and husky. He ran a finger through the wetness, then slowly brought it to his lips, tasting me on his fingertip. “Delicious,” he said, before leaning in to kiss me once more.

Matt reached behind the passenger seat and pulled out a rag, using it to clean up the mess left on the car seat. He threw it back and watched as I slowly made my way to the passenger seat to put my clothes back on. He did the same, his eyes never leaving me as he dressed himself.

As Matt finished getting dressed, he reached into the door pocket of his car and pulled out a blunt. He held it up with a sly grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Wanna smoke one more before I take you home?” he asked, his voice low and inviting.

I raised an eyebrow, a small smile playing on my lips. “You know I can't resist a good smoke,” I said, leaning back in my seat as Matt lit the blunt. He handed it to me, and I took a long drag, feeling the familiar rush of nicotine and relaxation course through my veins.

Matt pulled me into a deep, passionate kiss as the blunt smoke swirled around us. He tasted like sex and weed, a heady combination that made my head spin. I moaned into his mouth, my hands tangling in his hair as I lost myself in the moment.

I reluctantly broke the kiss, a soft sigh escaping my lips as Matt released me. He turned the key in the ignition, and the car rumbled to life around us.

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the only sound the hum of the engine and the gentle burning of the blunt.

Matt's smirk grew wider as he looked over at me, the dim light of the dashboard casting shadows on his face.

“Changing plans,” he said, his voice low and smooth.

“You’re staying with me tonight”

Authors note: thank you for 300 followers!! hopefully you all enjoyed this :P

#matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #smut #cyberl6ve

154 notes · View notes

n1ght0f-nyx · 4 months ago

Text

mha boys asking you out pt2/3

warnings/tags: cliffhanger, all mights fully retired in this one, more fanon way of acting than canon ngl, i dont think there's other warnings other than that- feel free to dm me if you notice a common warning that could affect someone characters: touya todoroki (dabi), tomura shigaraki, himiko toga, Jin Bubaigawara (twice) Toshinori Yagi (all might), Shota Aizawa, Hizashi Yamada (present mic)

Dabi/Touya todoroki The night was quiet, the kind of stillness that made me feel like the world had paused just for a moment. The stars overhead seemed to twinkle more brightly than usual, casting a soft glow over the abandoned rooftop I often found myself on when I needed to think. Tonight, though, I wasn’t alone.

Dabi was there, leaning against the edge of the rooftop, his usual smirk absent. His turquoise eyes seemed deeper tonight, filled with something I couldn't quite place. He had asked me to meet him here, and curiosity had compelled me to come, even though a part of me felt uneasy.

"Y/N," he said, his voice a low rumble that always sent shivers down my spine. "Thanks for coming."

I nodded, my heart beating a little faster than usual. "Of course. You sounded like you had something important to say."

He glanced away for a moment, staring out at the cityscape before taking a deep breath. "I’ve never been good at this sort of thing," he began, and I could see a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. "Being open. Being... honest."

I took a step closer, my curiosity piqued. "Dabi, what’s going on?"

He ran a hand through his unruly black and white hair, his usual confidence seemingly slipping away. "Look, this isn’t easy for me. But I can’t keep pretending like I don’t care. You... you mean something to me, Y/N. More than anyone else ever has."

My heart skipped a beat. I had always sensed there was something more between us, but hearing him say it was a different matter entirely. "Dabi..."

He held up a hand, stopping me. "Just let me finish. I’ve done a lot of bad things, things I’m not proud of. But you make me want to be better. For you. I don’t know if I can, but I want to try. If you’ll let me."

His words hung in the air between us, and for a moment, I could hardly breathe. I took a step closer, my hand reaching out to touch his. "Dabi, I..."

He looked at me, hope and fear mingling in his eyes. "Will you be with me, Y/N? Can you give me a chance?"

Tomura shigaraki

The sky was overcast as I walked through the city streets, the chill in the air a stark contrast to the warmth I felt inside. It had been a strange few weeks, getting to know Tomura Shigaraki. The notorious villain had always seemed so distant, so untouchable. But there was something different about him when it was just the two of us.

I turned the corner and saw him waiting by our usual meeting spot, a small café tucked away from prying eyes. His white hair was as unruly as ever, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his tattered coat. Despite his intimidating appearance, there was a nervous energy about him that I hadn't seen before.

"Hey," I greeted him with a smile, trying to lighten the tension I could feel in the air.

He glanced up at me, his crimson eyes softening just a fraction. "Hey," he replied, almost hesitantly.

We settled into our usual booth inside the café, the warm lighting casting a gentle glow over us. I sipped my coffee, stealing glances at him over the rim of my cup. There was something on his mind, something he was struggling to say.

"Y/N," he began, his voice unusually quiet, even with his raspy tone, "There's something I need to tell you."

I set my cup down, my heart starting to race. "What is it, Tomura?"

He took a deep breath, his fingers drumming nervously on the table. "I know I'm not the easiest person to be around. I've done things... terrible things. But being with you, it's like I can forget all of that, even if just for a little while."

I felt a lump form in my throat. I knew his past, the darkness that surrounded him, but there was something undeniably human in his words.

"I... I like you, Y/N," he continued, his eyes locking onto mine. "I don't know if I deserve it, but I want to be with you." (twice) jin Bubaigawara

As I sat in the dimly lit hideout, the usual buzz of the League of Villains surrounded me. Toga was busy sharpening her knives, a twisted grin on her face as she hummed a cheerful tune. I was lost in my thoughts, barely paying attention to the world around me, when Twice suddenly appeared beside me. His presence was hard to ignore, not just because of his dual personality but because he always had this chaotic energy that filled any room.

"Hey, Y/N!" he exclaimed, his voice teetering between excitement and anxiety. "Got a minute? Or two? Maybe a few?"

I looked up, meeting his masked gaze. "Sure, Twice. What's up?"

He fidgeted, scratching the back of his head. "So, uh, I was thinking... or maybe not thinking... or maybe overthinking... but there's something I've been wanting to ask you."

My curiosity piqued. Twice was usually so straightforward, yet he seemed genuinely nervous. "Go on," I encouraged.

"Okay, here it goes. Or maybe it doesn’t. No, it does! I mean..." He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Y/N, would you like to... go out with me sometime? Like on a date? Maybe grab some food, cause you know, villains gotta eat too!"

His words tumbled out in a rush, and I couldn't help but smile. Twice was always endearing in his own way, and his nervousness made him even more so. I considered his offer for a moment, but it wasn't a difficult decision.

future! Toshinori Yagi (all might) It had been one of those days where nothing seemed to go right. My alarm didn’t go off, I spilled coffee on my shirt, and my boss was in a particularly foul mood. By the time I finally made it to the coffee shop down the street, I felt completely drained. I just wanted a moment to breathe and enjoy a cup of coffee without any interruptions.

I found a cozy corner and settled in with my drink, the warm aroma already beginning to soothe my frazzled nerves. As I took my first sip, I noticed a man in the line who seemed oddly familiar. He was tall but noticeably thin, with unruly blond hair and tired eyes. He looked like he had seen better days, yet there was something undeniably kind about his demeanor.

After getting his coffee, he glanced around the room and, to my surprise, made his way over to my table.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice gentle yet strong, "is this seat taken?"

I shook my head, gesturing for him to sit. "No, go ahead."

He smiled gratefully and took the seat across from me. For a moment, we sat in comfortable silence, sipping our coffees and watching the world go by.

"I'm Toshinori," he finally said, extending his hand. "Toshinori Yagi."

I introduced myself and we began to chat. He had a way of making me feel at ease, and I found myself laughing at his stories about the city and its quirks. There was something almost nostalgic about the way he spoke, like he had lived a thousand lives.

As our conversation flowed, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I knew him from somewhere. It wasn’t until he mentioned something about "saving the day" that it clicked.

"Wait a minute," I said, narrowing my eyes playfully. "Are you some kind of hero?"

He chuckled, a deep, warm sound that made my heart skip a beat. "Not exactly. I used to be...involved in that sort of thing. Now I just try to help out where I can."

Before I could probe further, he changed the subject, asking about my day and listening intently as I recounted my morning mishaps. It was refreshing to have someone genuinely interested in my mundane stories.

As the conversation wound down, Toshinori leaned forward slightly, a hint of nervousness in his eyes.

"You know," he began, "I've really enjoyed talking with you. It’s rare to meet someone who can brighten my day like this. I was wondering if... maybe you'd like to do this again sometime? Perhaps dinner?"

I blinked in surprise, my heart fluttering at his words. "Are you asking me out on a date, Toshinori?"

He nodded, a hopeful smile on his face. "Yes, I suppose I am." Shota Aizawa

It was a quiet afternoon at U.A. High, the kind of peaceful lull that’s rare in our line of work. I was tidying up the training room, lost in thoughts about the next set of exercises for my students when I heard a familiar, tired voice behind me.

"Y/N," Shota Aizawa, or Eraser Head as most knew him, called out.

I turned around, finding him leaning against the doorframe, his eyes half-lidded but focused on me. There was always something intriguing about Aizawa. Maybe it was his calm demeanour, or the way he seemed to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders with such stoic grace. Whatever it was, he always managed to capture my attention.

"Hey, Aizawa. What's up?" I asked, trying to sound casual.

He straightened up, walking towards me with that usual, unhurried pace. "I've been meaning to talk to you about something," he said, his voice low and steady.

I felt a flutter of nerves in my stomach. It wasn’t often that Aizawa sought me out for personal conversations. We worked well together, respected each other as heroes, but this felt different.

"Sure, what's on your mind?" I asked, putting down the training equipment and giving him my full attention.

He paused, seemingly searching for the right words. "I know we’ve both been busy with our duties here and in the field. But I’ve realized something. Spending time with you, working alongside you, it’s become... important to me...you're important to me"

My heart skipped a beat. Was he really saying what I thought he was?

He took a deep breath, his gaze unwavering. "I’d like to get to know you better, outside of work. Would you be interested in having dinner with me?"

For a moment, I was speechless. Shota Aizawa, the stoic and composed hero, was asking me out.

Hizashi Yamada I stood in the middle of the bustling common room of the hero agency, flipping through a stack of mission reports. The sound of chatter and the occasional ring of a phone filled the air, blending into a familiar, comforting hum. I was so absorbed in my work that I almost didn't notice when the noise quieted down slightly, replaced by a distinct, upbeat voice that always managed to stand out.

"Hey, Y/N! Got a minute?" Hizashi Yamada, better known as Present Mic, called out as he approached me with his trademark grin.

I looked up from the papers, feeling a smile tug at the corners of my lips. "Sure thing, Hizashi. What's up?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, a hint of nervousness in his usually confident demeanor. "Well, there's something I've been wanting to ask you."

Curiosity piqued, I set the reports aside and gave him my full attention. "Go ahead. What's on your mind?"

Hizashi took a deep breath, his eyes sparkling with determination. "So, I've been thinking... we've been working together for a while now, and I really enjoy our time together. You're awesome, Y/N, and I was wondering if you'd like to go out with me sometime? Like, on a date?"

For a moment, I was stunned. Hizashi was always full of surprises, but this was unexpected. I felt a warmth spread through my chest as I processed his words. "You want to go out with me?"

He nodded, his grin widening. "Yeah! I think you're amazing, and I'd love to get to know you better outside of work."

161 notes · View notes