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tnystrk-exe · 4 years ago

Text

Estocolmo

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

Warnings: Smut 18+ thigh riding, fingering, oral, daddy kink, plot to make up for my first attempt at writing smut.

Word count: 6.8k

Chapter One

“Fucking hell.” You sighed as you looked at the still tall stack of essays that needed grading. “I’m never getting through this.”

Your stomach grumbled, signaling it was time for a break. Stretching, the quiet was interrupted by the sound of your bone’s protest from sitting in one position for hours. It was nights like these you had regretted your choices. Sure you had known Professor Jacob loved to torture his students with too much work, but when you took the job as his assistant you assumed that he’d shoulder some of the weight. A ridiculous thought now that you’ve experienced working with him. Why should he even think of grading an assignment when he had a perfect little lackey doing it for him? That was a non question. He had been strict about the work not leaving his office, which meant you had accidentally fallen asleep in his office more than often than you would have liked. The pile of work never seemed to diminish.

Walking out the office, you thought briefly of the joy you would feel when you’d never have to see it again. These long corridors would be a thing of the past in just a few, short months. Then you’d probably go to the city and struggle for a while but at least you would be free from here. As much as you prided yourself for getting through the first round of college, the walls of the building gave you more of an annoyed feeling than anything.

Pushing open the door to the teachers lounge, you made a beeline for the fridge. The leftover pizza already seemed like a feast until you noticed it was nowhere to be seen. “Hannibal,” you whined to the empty room as you closed the fridge.

“Yes, darling?”

You startled, immediately turning around to face him, a mischievous smile was plastered on his lips. Usually your missing dinner meant to head over to his office. It wasn’t typical, but the two of you had managed a comfortable friendship between the shared late nights. Though, you suspected he’d stay longer than necessary to accompany you in the empty building. “Would you mind telling me where my dinner went, handsome?” You asked, raising a brow at him.

“Old pizza can hardly be considered dinner. Come,” he motioned to sit next to him at the table, “I’ve got a better meal prepared for you nonetheless.”

“Or maybe you just need to learn to appreciate the simple things,” you quipped as you took your seat.

“And you, the finer.”

You gave him an obvious look over, “I’d say I appreciate you plenty enough.”

Being so forward wasn’t usually in your cards. However Hannibal had always been a gentleman and it had been fun to tease at him a bit. He never complained, often just acknowledging what you said with a raised brow or chuckle. Still there was always some truth in jokes and you’d be lying to say that he was anything less than tempting. Especially in the dark grey suit and dried blood red shirt of his. ‘No’ wouldn’t come to mind if he ever offered.

“Naughty, Miss LN,” he chided you, “What shall we do with you?”

“What do you want to do with me?”

“Eat your dinner,” he said, humor in his voice as he shook his head.

You choked back a comment about him just wanting to see your mouth stuffed, deciding it was too much of a push. Instead you just opened the lunchbox he placed in front of you. Hannibal watched you expectantly as you took a bite of the meat.

Closing your eyes, you savored the bite. It had been a while since you had something home cooked. “Han... I’m going to miss you most. I don’t know what I’m gonna do without you. Delicious, as always.”

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine.” He went back to work on his own stack of papers as you ate. “Though, I’m not sure I’m ready to allow you to live off street food once we part.”

“Guess we’re gonna have to find me another man that insists on throwing away my perfectly good food to serve me home cooked meals.”

Hannibal left some remarks on a paper before pushing it to the side. “You could always come learn a few things. Maybe I’ll rest better knowing you know how to make yourself a couple of decent meals. Any guesses for the meat?”

It was a strange guessing game, but you indulged him, he was just eccentric. “Oh, definitely human,” you teased, making sure to pick up some spinach and artichoke in the next bite, “Probably had a boring name like David.”

“Close. It was Richard,” he corrected.

“Beef, it was the Rolex of all farm animals hand picked by you and I’m very grateful you shared some with me,” you smiled at him, “So how are things going with Baltimore?”

“I’ve found a beautiful home. The office, however, seems to be harder to find.”

“I’m sure you’ll find the perfect one.” Your phone started ringing. Grabbing it from your pocket, you looked at the screen. Mom. “They’re making this unnecessarily difficult,” you sighed to yourself.

Hannibal looked at you with peaked interest as you shut off your phone and pushed it away. “Is something troubling you?”

“My parents aren’t taking too kindly to the no contact rule. It’s the tenth call today.”

“You’ve cut them off?”

“I thought about what you had said,” you shrugged, “I’m tired of always having to get them out of troubles and be their ATM when I don’t have enough for myself. It’s just too much on me right now. Between school assignments, Jacob’s work pile, and my other part time, it’s all just suffocating. They keep trying to use my grandfather’s death as a leverage to make me feel bad about not talking to them now, but they just want some money. I don’t want to feel guilty about this but I can’t help it.”

“Don’t,” he placed his hand over yours, “You deserve to feel taken care of and appreciated. They aren’t providing you with that now. Especially now when they use the death of the person who raised you as leverage,” he shook his head, making a disgusted sound, “It’s for your own well-being that you take some time to breathe and be young. They provide too much stress…” Hannibal fell silent. “I’ve suggested this before but i-“

You gave his hand a gentle squeeze before pulling away. “I’m not taking your money. We’re friends. Money complicates things. Muddies the waters.”

“Friends help each other,” he reminded you, “I’ve already told you I wouldn’t want any payment.”

“But I’d still feel like I owe you.” You shook your head, “It wouldn’t feel right to me. I’m fine. I promise. Though, if you’re so willing to help me with something, I wouldn’t say no to those cooking lessons. They could be fun.”

He spared you a smile, “It would be my pleasure to teach you what I know.”

“And I’d never deny your pleasure,” your mouth spoke before you could think about it, “Sorry.”

“I don’t deny myself pleasure either,” he said, amused. “You’re fine. Now, how about we meet on Sunday? I’ll have time to figure out a full meal and gather all of the ingredients.”

“Great!” You ignored the heat that still lingered on your face, “I- um, do you need me to bring anything?”

“Nothing at all, I’ll make sure to take care of everything. All you need to do, sweet girl, is bring yourself and an appetite.”

You stifled a pleased smile at the term of affection. “I’ll make sure to do that,” sparing a glance to the clock, you frowned, “I should probably get back to work on those essays.”

“Why don’t we work on them together?” He suggested. “My colleague is notorious for drowning you in his work. I can help you sort through it all and you can have a restful Saturday without Micheal’s added stress.”

“I really can’t ask that of you. You already have enough work as it is.”

“We’ll work together. First your work, then mine. What happened to never denying my pleasure?”

Your eyes widened, but you laughed all the same. Maybe a while more in his company wouldn’t be so bad. “Fine. Hold me to my words, but it’s only going to cause you a headache. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. These new kids are… something else.”

“They’re nothing,” he stood, grabbing his papers in one hand, “Meet me in my office. We can be more comfortable there and I may have stowed away a bottle of wine.”

“What would I do without you Doctor Lecter?”

“You have arrived at your destination,” the robotic voice informed you as you parked.

You took in the mansion of a home. It was too big for someone that lived alone. The thought made you shiver. Homes should be filled with life, not empty space. Then again, he was a fan of dinner parties, extravagant ones at that, so you supposed there was life in those walls on occasion. The home itself reminded you of the houses in old movies. Ones where the lightning would strike at just the right moment as a warning to stay away. But this was real life and there was no lightning, just a sun setting on a near perfect day.

Without a warning telling you to keep away, you grabbed the gift bag and stepped out of your car. He had said to bring nothing, but you couldn’t resist a simple gift. The ties in the bag had taken out a decent chunk from your pocket, but he deserved them. Between agreeing to give you cooking lessons and helping you out with grading every so often, the simple pieces of fabric meant nothing. Besides, it was a two way gift, he’d get more of the patterned ties he was fond of and you’d get to see him in the darker colors you liked on him, knowing he’d feel compelled to wear them to show you his gratitude.

Knocking on the door, you waited a couple of minutes before he emerged. “YN, just in time. Please, come in,” he stepped to the side, “I’ve looked forward to this all day.”

You smiled and stepped past him. “I have too. Entertained myself a bit today by finding you a gift.”

“Darling, you shouldn’t have.”

Nervousness bit at you slightly, a bit self conscious they’d be too cheap for his taste. Too late to back out of it, you handed over the bag. “You’ve always been so kind and I really appreciate everything. Let me do something for you.”

He set the bag on the nearby table, laying out the ties to get a better look at them. “They’re all lovely,” he ran a finger across the fabric of a maroon one, “Fond of me in darker colors, YN?”

“What can I say?” You shrugged, “We catch ourselves spending a lot of time together. Why not make you a decent piece of eye candy?”

“Inappropriate,” he chided you, before signaling you to follow after him.

“You just wear them so well, Doctor Lecter.”

Shrugging off his navy suit coat, he draped it over a chair, making quick work of rolling up his sleeves. “Ready to get your hands dirty, my little sous-chef?”

“What are we making?” You asked, looking at his kitchen wide eyed. It was definitely bigger than your measly studio apartment.

“Frisee aux lardons, duck with a pomegranate-citrus glaze. I took the liberty of preparing a blood orange sorbet for dessert.”

“I have a proposal.”

“Yes?”

“We don’t do any of that and just have dessert for dinner.”

“No,” he gave you an amused glance, “There’s more pleasure in waiting for things. Why don’t you start washing up the vegetables and I’ll start preparing the duck?”

You stuck your tongue out at his back but set to your work. “This is what I get for befriending a charming old guy.”

“Keep going the way you are and our next meal together will be langue d’Agneau en papillote.”

“That can’t be a threat if I don’t know what that means,” you quipped, setting aside an endive.

“It means, darling,” he pointed his knife at you, “The fondness I feel for you is an inconvenience. Nonetheless, it’s welcomed.”

You smiled at him brightly, as you brought the washed vegetables over to him. “I’m fond of you too, but you gotta stop flirting and teach me how we’re gonna cook Daffy here.”

He motioned for you to grab a cutting board and a knife of your own. The two of you worked in quiet harmony, occasionally he’d tell you exactly why he was doing something a certain way or just give you simple instructions and let you have a hands on feel of exactly how to prepare something. It was nice to see him in his element. Hannibal seemed much more content in his kitchen than any where you had seen him at the college. Eventually he set his work to the side and washed his hands.

“You’re cutting them too thick. Thinner is better for this dish.” He stepped behind you, “Do you mind?”

“Go ahead.” You attempted to move to the side, but Hannibal had already caged you in between himself and the counter. His cologne was different from the one you were accustomed to him wearing, but the subtle spice of it gave a more homey feeling to him.

Hannibal grabbed your hand that had yet to let go of the knife. He made sure to show you how to cut them the right thickness. “See? A little thing can unbalance everything.”

“Hm,” you hummed, catching yourself relaxed against the man, his frame strong against yours, “I don’t see much of a difference. Pretty sure this is just your variation of a putter.”

“You assume I have hidden motives,” He acknowledged, looking down at you, “And if there were any?”

Taking the bait, you pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “I wouldn’t be too upset.”

His head dipped into your shoulder, taking in a breath. “What happened to not wanting to bring on complications in our friendship?”

“We only have weeks left with each other,” you shrugged, “There wouldn’t be any complications. Not really.”

“We really should get back to making our dinner, darling,” he sighed, almost seeming reluctant to pull away, “What else did you did you do today?””

It took you a second to respond, still shaking off the embarrassment. You weren’t sure what had compelled you to do that. When you looked up at him you grimaced. Grabbing a napkin, you carefully wiped away the lingering lipstick. “The ties were the more interesting part of the day, I didn’t plan anything eventful. Honestly most of my day was taken with trying to recall the shop you mentioned that carried the ones you liked.”

He hummed in appreciation, “You also managed to pick out two I have had my eye on. I’ve got new suits coming in soon that will pair perfectly.”

You beamed at that, happy he did actually like what you had chosen. “Lucky guess. It was difficult remembering the ones I had seen you wear.”

Hannibal made to grab some ingredients and set them on the counter near the stove. “Have your parents tried calling you this weekend?”

You sighed, sure you didn’t have to tell him the truth but you wanted to, he had a compelling thing to him that made it easy to just speak. “I sent them money for rent. Which was honestly the dumbest thing I’ve done in a while.”

“It wasn’t idiotic,” he stated, setting to work on making the pomegranate sauce as you watched, “They’re you’re parents. It’s only natural you worry about them. Though, I do worry they’ll think of you as a person that doesn’t stick to her word.”

“I know, I really meant to, but the thought of them out on the street. It’s not my responsibility, but I’m just so used to being their adult.”

“It’s difficult to detransition. You worry for them as they should worry for you.” He checked over a pan he had been heating, “That’s perfect. If you could please..” Grabbing the plate with the duck you set them on the pan. “With duck it’s important to render off the fat. A low heat is necessary.”

You nodded, “Low and slow, got it... You know, I’m not sure they worry about me at all. I mean- I know they don’t. It should hurt, but it’s just a fact of life.”

“They didn’t give you an opportunity to be a child. When you were supposed to be in the most carefree moments of your life, they burdened you with the responsibilities of an adult.” He held out a spoon with some of the pomegranate sauce for you to taste. “Any pain the notion inflicted on you has been killed with time.”

“There are still moments though. Suppose that’s common enough, isn’t it Doc?” You leaned in, allowing him to feed you, “That tastes amazing. I really should have paid attention.”

“It’s simple, I’ll write it out for you later.” Casting the sauce aside, he set a pot of water to boil. “Very common. We aren’t too dissimilar when it comes to how quickly we had to grow up. Very different reasons, but the fall out isn’t much different. Our paths left us in places where we’re very much alone.”

“What happened?” You asked, realizing that he had known a great deal of your family and you had known nothing more past how his day had gone or his preference of coffee. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“I don’t.” Hannibal went to fill two glasses with wine. “I was very young when my parents died. My father had implemented in me that, if anything were to happen, I was to take care of my mother and sister. Which meant I had grown fiercely protective of Mischa when the time came. Soon I was acting more as her father than a brother.”

“Where’s Mischa now?” You asked, knowing at the very least she had to be in her late twenties.

His lips set into a frown, he took a quick drink. “Lost her sometime after. There was a lapse of judgement on my part and she suffered because of it. My days have often been shrouded by the thought that I could have done better by her. The ways I failed burdens me significantly.”

You rubbed his arm sympathetically. “I couldn’t even begin to imagine that pain.”

“It’s something I never wish to experience again. Losing someone you love so dearly, it changes a person.”

“I’m sure you tried your best. You’re a good man. I’m sorry you had to go through all of that when you were so young.”

“You think too highly of me,” he patted your hand on his arm, “Far better than I deserve. Still if my childhood had taught me anything, it’s to value those I hold dear. Such as yourself.”

“I’m glad we found each other. Even if it is for a short while.” You watched as he stepped back into the rhythm of cooking. Maybe you weren’t any help to him but watching him work was comforting.

He raised a brow, “Just because the amount of time we physically see each other will diminish, doesn’t mean we need to completely break apart. I’d like to have you at my dinner table later in life.”

“I’d like it if we kept in touch,” you replied, looking at a small box on the counter. The small black beads glimmered in the light, calling at you to take a peek. A neat row of recipe cards in his impeccable penmanship, numbered as high as 120 but there could have been more. “That’s sweet,” you mused, looking at the back of a card, noticing a couple had business cards on them, “You keep track of your friends’ favorites like this?”

“Friends, acquaintances, business partners. It’s difficult remembering everyone’s preferences. When I have dinner parties I like to make sure there’s a bit of something for everyone.”

“Hm, well I’m sorry I don’t have a card for you to have.”

When everything was said and done, you helped Hannibal set up the plates to have dinner. The conversation became light as you laughed along to the better memories of Mischa. From his smile it was easy to see he adored the usually shy girl. You never pressed on to find out how she died, simply choosing to bask in his soft smiles and laughter instead of entertaining curiosity. It was easy to see he rarely talked about her and you were grateful that he found that much comfort in you.

Some time later he was sitting at his harpsichord, playing a self composed melody as you browsed his shelves. There was an almost familiar calm in the air, like this was a usual happening and it would simply just happen again. A naturally reoccurring moment. You found comfort in his presence too.

You looked up from the shelves when you heard his sigh. “I can’t seem to master this melody,” he stated, “The ending never sounds right.” The annoyed demeanor contradicted his lax look. At least lax for him. His vest and suit jacket had been discarded a while ago leaving him with a popped button, loosened tie, and rolled up sleeves. “I may just leave this one in the air.”

“Sounds perfect to me,” you said, walking over to him, “Though we can be our own worst critics. I know I’m mine.”

“It sounds… forced. Almost as if it’s reluctant to work with me.”

“Forced things just need time.” You placed your hand on his shoulders, digging in your thumbs to relieve the tension you felt. A soft groan as he let his head lull back to rest against your stomach. “Time is all you need sometimes. I thought you would have learned that already, old man.”

He opened his eyes, raising a brow at you. “Always with that mouth.”

You smiled down on him fondly, something- probably the wine in your system -thought about pressing a kiss to his forehead right then. “What can I say? It has a mind of its own.”

“I do prefer when it’s otherwise occupied,” he stated, closing his eyes again.

Your fingers dug a little deeper at that, caught off guard. “And yet.”

Hannibal played a couple soft notes, seemingly testing the waters for his next attempt at getting it to sound right. “And yet.” The first melody seemed almost innocent, but was followed by a second seemingly stalking after it. “Would you mind putting on a record? It seemed I’ve grown bored with music of my own.”

“Sure thing, Han.” Giving his shoulders one final squeeze you pulled away from him. At the record table you browsed through his selection. Hannibal was still composing as you decided to go with a record that looked more worn than the others, figuring something well loved would help him out of his frustrated state. Setting it on the platter, you gave it a brief once over with the anti static brush, knowing he’d probably be attentive to that type of thing, and dropped the needle. The music filled the air as you took in the melody. “Very you.”

He let out a soft chuckle, abandoning the harpsichord, in favor walking over to you. “Very me, indeed.” Hannibal took the record sleeve out of your hand, setting it down on the table. The music’s build up reached. “Would you give me the honor?” His hand was stretched out toward you.

You gave him a sheepish smile, “Afraid I’m going to have to disappoint. I’m not much of a dancer.”

“I’ve been told I’m a wonderful teacher,” he pressed, a charming smile on his lips, “We all start somewhere. Let me be yours.”

A soft laugh bubbled from you as you took in his look of boyish excitement. “You’re not allowed to complain when I step on your toes.” You placed your hand in his.

He gave a gentle squeeze to your hand. “If you’re too terrible, I’ll show you the way I taught Mischa. You can stand on my toes as I try to help you commit the movements into muscle memory.”

“Handsome and a comedian.”

“I try my best.” Hannibal gave you a gentle spin as he pulled you closer. A kiss was pressed to your hand before he placed it on his shoulder. “Now, just follow after me,” he instructed, placing his hand on your hip.

The moment could have made you fall for the man as you danced with him throughout the room. Toothy smiles and teasing winks were sent your way the couple of times you stepped on his toe. Soon enough, you figured out the pace and learned how to follow through with his unspoken plans. Still, ever the novice, you managed to place your foot in a way that sent you both stumbling to the floor.

Hannibal held you close to his chest, ensuring you didn’t get hurt in the fall. “Oh my sweet girl,” he laughed, “we are going to need more practice.”

You hid your face against his neck, ignoring the fact that he could feel how hot your face was getting. “You want more of that?”

“You were doing perfect, YN,” he stroked your hair sympathetically, “One misstep isn’t something to be embarrassed about.”

Taking a deep breath, you shifted off of the older man, opting to sit beside him on the floor. Hannibal followed suit, leaning back on his elbows. “I really am going to miss seeing you regularly,” you admitted, reaching out your hand to push back the hair that had fallen in front of his eyes.

“We spend much of our time together,” he acknowledged as he looked at you curiously. “In the kitchen-“

Your eyes widened slightly, “We don’t need to talk about that i-it’s fine. No hard feelings.”

“Romantically or physically?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Do you see me as a romantic or physical conquest?”

“I, um,” you opted to look at your fumbling hands, “I’m honestly not sure about romance… especially considering… everything and my experience when it comes to romance. Never really thought past- I’m talking too much.”

Hannibal’s hand tilted your chin up, forcing you to look him in the eye. “Oh? What happened to the confident girl in the kitchen? Don’t go shy on me now.”

“I was high on your cologne, you can hardly blame me,” you rambled, “It pairs with mine nicely I think.”

His thumb stroked absentmindedly at your jaw. “Such a sweet little thing you are… Now, tell me, YN, what couldn’t you think past?”

“You,” you offered lamely, “Mostly nights when I needed to relax. You’d cross my mind. I’d wonder how you felt. How’d you do things. Maybe you’d like to leave bruises only you’d ever know about…”

“There’s something special in knowing what others don’t,” Hannibal acknowledged, “I do enjoy my lovers wearing my marks, hidden from others view and only acknowledged by myself. As it should be, I’m certain you agree.”

You swallowed thickly at the implication of being marked as his solely. The idea of having normal conversations with him at the college with evidence of him knowing you well burned against your skin. Maybe you’d see if you could convince him into one particular fantasy Friday night had conjured.

He rested his thumb against your bottom lip, bringing you back to him. “I’ve had thoughts of my own… I wonder… Have you ever wrapped a hand around your own neck?” Hannibal smirked at the way your lips parted in surprise as he felt the heat rise to your face, caught in a way you hadn’t expected. “Sweet girl, were you desperate for me?”

You went to lick your bottom lip out of habit, instead finding the pad of his thumb. “Yes, sir.”

“Darling,” he sighed out softly, almost disappointed, “we could have sorted you out this entire time, if you’d only ask politely. There would have been no need for you to imagine, creative as you might have been. You always put everyone’s needs before yours, but where does that leave you?” Hannibal his thumb pressed against your lips lightly, humming in satisfaction when you let him in, already so compliant. “All you have to do is ask. What would you have me do tonight?” A soft pop sounded in the room as he pulled his thumb back, smearing your spit onto your lips and chin.

“Just tonight?” The words rolled out of your mouth thoughtlessly.

A soft laugh. “Maybe more, if you behave.”

Hannibal threaded his hand into your hair, pulling your head back slightly. Leaning closer he took a deep breath, taking you in, before leaving a simple kiss against your neck. His warm breath fanned across your face as he kept you in anticipation. Finally he graced you with a feather light kiss, so quick you weren’t sure you even noticed. You didn’t have time to feel ashamed of the whine that had escaped when he started to move away. Following after him, you caught him in an urgent kiss, threading your own hands in his hair to make sure he’d stay close. Hannibal bit at your bottom lip, his tongue sliding in the second you gasped. You ignored the sting and slight coppery taste.

Sure you had had your fair share of ventures. It was only natural to crave the attention for the night or a couple hours. However, Hannibal didn’t feel like any of your past partners. His kiss was unrelenting and passionate. Quickly he learned exactly how to kiss you to ensure you’d moan into his mouth. You weren’t sure how long had been spent like this. Lips on lips. Someone’s wandering hand trailing down the other’s body. The growing need. Every movement slowly became bolder. Hannibal took the time to pull you onto his thigh, closing the distance between you even more. He kissed along your neck until he found a spot that made you buck against him.

“Please,” you sighed out, not really knowing exactly what you wanted, but having faith that he’d give you just what you needed.

Hannibal leaned his forehead against yours, “Are you sure about this, darling?”

It wasn’t time for contemplation though, everything was already set into motion. He had just asked out of politeness. His hands moved to your hips, he dragged you against himself in a way that clouded your mind. “You’re very convincing,” you said with a shuddered breath. Leaning your head against his shoulder, you matched his rhythm. At the moment everything in the world was him and you couldn’t find it in you to mind.

“You came to me,” he pointed out. His hand tugged at your shirt and you allowed him to pull it off. Fingers raised goose bumps along your skin as he followed the fabric of your bra to unclasp the material.

“Could you blame me?” You kissed the side of his jaw for the second time this night. The lipstick mark left behind wasn’t as embarrassing when you were half undressed on his lap. A blush blossomed in your chest as you watched his darken eyes take you in.

Hannibal kissed along your chest. His hand made its way into your pants, drawing slow circles on your clit. Your soft moan and jut of your hips urged him for more. Before you could ask, he thrusted two fingers inside of you, the pace changing every so often as he took in your reactions. You leaned your head against his shoulder as you grinded against his hand. Soft whimpers were muffled by the fabric of his shirt.

“Come on sweet girl,” he used his free hand to pull you off of his shoulder by the hair, “you shouldn’t be hiding. Look at me when I’m touching you. Don’t you want to be my good toy?”

You nodded meekly, unable to make a smart comment when you saw a smirk settle on his lips as a too loud moan took its place.

“That’s it, no one can hear you,” he teased as he worked at the spot harder, his thumb rubbed at your clit. “You seem very close, what if I…”

As he went to move his hand, you grabbed his wrist to stop him. “No, no, no. Please, I’ll be good for you.”

He chuckled, but didn’t say a word as he brought his pace back up. Instead he chose to revel in your soft sounds and the way you had to focus to keep your eyes on him. Finally, he decided keeping you on the edge was enough and allowed you to cum on his fingers.

“Clean up your mess,” he said as he thrusted his cum coated fingers into your mouth, “There you go, good girl.”

You watched him as you sucked his fingers clean. Bringing a hand down you palmed cock through his pants, fully intending on returning the favor. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

“I’m afraid that status isn’t going to change anytime soon.” Hannibal kissed your pouted lip. “Don’t worry, I fully intend on taking care of you. Come, let’s make you more comfortable.”

As he stood, Hannibal offered you his hand to help you up. You followed him through the home to his bedroom, a place you didn’t think you’d end up but were more than pleased to see. Still you weren’t exactly taking in the sights when you were pulled into a rougher kiss as he led you toward his bed. A not too gentle push to your chest landed you on top of it. Leaning back on your elbows, you watched as Hannibal took his time undressing you fully.

“You don’t play fair,” you complained, shifting yourself higher on the bed, away from him, “I like a pretty view too you know.”

He smiled, looking down at you fondly, “Very well, but only as a reward for earlier. I know you struggled.”

You smiled at that, shaking your head, “Come here won’t you?”

There wasn’t any time wasted when he settled on top of you, you didn’t have his patience. Your hands worked on his tie and buttons as his lips and teeth trailed across your chest. A subtle grind against your pussy had your thighs squeeze his waist. Pushing his shirt off, you felt down his chest, still surprised by how muscular he seemed to be underneath it all. You wondered if he’d stop you as you reached for his belt.

“That’s enough. I don’t think you’ve earned it just yet.”

An annoyed huff was all you could manage.

“All in its time, darling.” A surprisingly gentle kiss was dropped on your cheek. “Can you manage waiting a while longer for me?”

You resisted the urge to nuzzle against him, unused to such soft displays from past partners. “Yes, sir...”

“Always such a sweet, polite thing.”

Hannibal kissed and bit his way down your body, ensuring there would be evidence of him the next time you saw yourself in the mirror. He allowed you to thread your fingers in his hair, giving him a soft push down when he took too long marking you in one spot. It wasn’t much longer until Hannibal was level with your thighs, he pushed them further apart. A moment passed without anything before you remembered his rule. Willing yourself up you looked down at him, catching a wink before you were rewarded with a broad lick. Hannibal sucked your clit, pressing your hips down when you grinded against him.

A helpless noise was the most you could do.

He bit your thigh, his fingers immediately making their way back inside of you, targeting the spot he had quickly learned turned you to putty.

“You really are beautiful like this,” Hannibal acknowledged, “Completely at my mercy. Desperate for anything I’m willing to give you.”

There wasn’t any time to think up something to say as Hannibal’s mouth replaced his fingers, silencing any words that weren’t his breathy attempts of his name and pleas. Teeth grazed against your clit and a soft moan of his own was enough to pull you closer.

“Please, daddy,” you begged, too far gone to be embarrassed by your slip, “I’m close…”

Hannibal was merciful, helping you finish as quickly as you had asked. Maybe at another time he would have teased and made you hold on longer but there was only so much patience he had. Especially when there was such an eager lover begging him. You watched him, dazed, as he came back up, his hand gripping at your jaw.

“Open.”

Doing as he wanted, you opened your mouth, instantly receiving a mix of the still lingering wine he had drank at dinner and you. He watched as you swallowed.

He let out an almost dreamy sigh. “So pliant.”

Hannibal kissed you, finally allowing you to get your way as you pushed off the last clothes. You pumped him in your hand, working up the courage as you shook off the daze he had left you in. He was definitely the most talented partner you had had.

“We don’t have to go any further,” Hannibal reassured you, kissing the side of your mouth, “I’m perfectly sedated watching you.”

You shook your head immediately, not wanting him to think you were hesitant. “I want to, college guys aren’t so giving, just needed some time to clear my head.” As if to prove your point you gave him a squeeze, that made him thrust into your hand on instinct. “I just feel bad you’re doing all the work.”

“I prefer it,” he groaned quietly, as you thumbed at the slit. Hannibal rolled so that you could be on top of him, “But if you insist…”

A soft laugh. “That was hardly the fight I was expecting,” you muttered teasingly, kissing his jaw.

“My patience is running thin.”

At that you straddled him, your hand lining him up with you. His hands held you steady as you sunk onto him. The both of you moaned softly when he was fully inside. Hannibal slowly grinded you against himself as you adjusted to his size. Hands against his chest, you started riding him in earnest.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised you, his fingernails digging harder into your hips.

“Yours,” you whimpered, too enthralled in the feel of him to pay any attention to the weight of what you were saying. His groans underneath you encouraged you more than anything. “All yours.”

Hannibal sat up, wrapping an arm around your waist to keep you firm against him. His soft kiss was a contrast to how roughly he was working himself into you. You couldn’t find it in you to care that he had taken control again. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him do as he pleased, just enjoying the way his hands and lips would travel across your body. Teasing, pinching, biting everywhere he could reach. Your chest alone would be covered in marks left behind by Hannibal. That would be a problem for the future you to deal with at the moment you were too preoccupied with begging him for more. He’d slow his thrust whenever he felt you close to the end, chuckling lowly at the whining sounds you had made.

“Give daddy one more sweet girl. I know you can.”

You moaned loudly, giving Hannibal exactly what he wanted. When he wanted. Drained, you fell limp against his shoulder. Every small sound you made broadcast directly to him as he used you for all your worth. His arms tightened around you when you tried to pull away from the over stimulation.

“Daddy’s close,” he promised, his accent thicker than usual, “I’ve taken such good care of my girl. Be good for me.”

Nodding, you dug your nails into his shoulders. You could be good. He had been so good to you after all. Still your vision blurred and it had taken a while longer for him to finally go still inside of you.

Hannibal kissed the side of your head, before pulling you to lay down against him. His thumb wiped away the stray tear that had managed to fall. “You did so well for me. Are you alright? Do you need anything?”

You sighed sleepily, curling into his side more comfortably, “I’m alright. Just want you.”

“We’ll take care of you later,” he promised, seeing how tired you were, “You should rest, darling. I’ll be right here.” His hand rested on your hip, thumbing at forming bruise gently. Between the soft touch and his quiet humming, it didn’t take long for you to find sleep.

NextChapter

#hannibal lecter #Hannibal Lecter x reader #reader insert #smut #hannibal #Hannibal nbc #Hannibal x reader

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maggyme13 · 4 years ago

Text

The Alpha next door (6/?)

AN: Sooo, again a shorter chapter, I apologize but atm I struggle with this story. I know what I want to happen but I cant write it...

Warnings: I don't think so, maybe a bit angst

Wordcount: around 1.3k

TAND-Masterlist

Masterlist

Part 5

She had been lucky enough to find some fitting clothes in Charming: A summer dress, some shorts for beneath, and a pair of roman sandals. “Can you grab the box on the kitchen table for me and place it in my car, please? I need to finish getting ready.”, Millie called out from her bathroom. “Sure. Anything else?”, Happy answered from the kitchen. “Nothing. I am almost done as well. Are you sure that it is enough that I bring just some muffins for dessert?” “Yeah. Told you there is no need for you to bring anything.” “I know. I just want to make a good impression. They are your pack.”, she sighed. “And you are my Omega.” “Yeah.”, she smiled to herself while finishing her makeup. .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.--.-.-.

“So we meet again.”, the woman Millie knew to be Gemma Teller-Morrow greeted her at the door. “Hello, Ma´m. A pleasure to meet you again.”, she answered anxiously. “No need for these formalities. You are one of us know. Call me Gemma.” “Millie. I brought some Blueberry-Muffins I made. Hope that was okay.”, she fiddled with her hands. “Of course. I hope Happy told you that you did not need to bring anything. You are our guest tonight.”, the older woman answered. “He did mention it a few times. But I like to bake, so it was no big deal.” “Well, come in. I will show you to the kitchen and where you can put your muffins.” “Thank you..”, Millie hummed and followed her inside. Multiple unknown scents attacked her the second she stepped through the door and she was at the edge of being overwhelmed. Luckily the scents of Chibs and Tig were able to catch her animals' attention and it calmed down enough for her not to be in a flight response. “You can place them over there.”, Gemma nodded to the countertop in the center of the kitchen. “Will do, Gemma.” “So tell me. How did the two of you meet?”, she asked nonchalantly. “I-uhm- we are neighbors.” “I already knew that, Honey. But how did you meet as Alpha and Omega? Happy is not the kind of Alpha that goes after Omegas.” “He saved me from another Alpha. It went from there.”, the younger Omega explained, not wanting to give too much information. “Wha-” “Gemma. Everyone is seated. We are only waiting for the two of you.”, another Omega saved Millie from a deeper questioning. “On our way Tara. Be a dear and help us carry these plates, would you?” “Sure.”, the newly arrived Omega rolled her eyes. “Thank you.”, Gemma answered with a sinister sweet smile,” Please go ahead we are right behind you.” “Fine.” “That room we enter is filled with Alphas, as you already can smell. Please do not make Happy hurt any of them. Blood is hard to get out of the Carpets and hardwood floor. The Croweaters won´t be happy about that either, not they are very fond of you for taking him away from them.” “I- I will try my best.”, Millie answered unsurely. “Good. Now let´s get this last bit of food to the hungry Wolves.” The whole dinner was tense, even though she was seated between Happy and Tig, their scents trying to fight off her unknown ones. And she was glad when the Men went into the adjoined living room after dinner, leaving the women to put the leftovers into Tupperware, and the prospects to clean the table. “The muffins can be reheated. I usually serve them with either chocolate sauce or powdered sugar.”, she explained. “I will heat the oven, ten minutes?”, “Yes. “ “If they taste as good as they smell be prepared to make them a lot. These men are acting and looking tough, but they love sweets just as much as any little boy.” “Who are you calling a little boy, Ma?”, the voice of the VP called from behind them. “You and the rest of the trouble makers in that room, son. What do you need?” “We have to leave for a bit. I want Tara and the boys to stay here. Millie, Hap will probably speak to you himself, but you can stay here or at the clubhouse if you want.” “Thank you?”, Milli answered shyly, “Guess I will talk to Happy then.” “We should be back in the morning. Are you okay staying here?”, Her Alpha explained, taking in any little reaction of the Omega in front of him. “I guess.”, she mumbled, sad her work would end up in the bin. “What is bothering you then?” “The muffins will go bad. They can be reheated only one time.”, she explained with a sigh, “You don´t want to happen to take one for the ride?” “You don´t need to ask twice. OPE, TIG, JUICE, get your asses in here or I will eat every single muffin myself!”, he chuckled and called out. Within seconds the baked goods were gone and the men left. .-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.--. A gentle knock pulled her out of the short sleep she had managed to fall into in the early morning hours. “Jgrmgh”, she groaned into the pillow. “Ms. Millie? The Breakfast is ready in a few. And the others called, they should be back in three

hours at most.”, the Prospect V-Lin called through the door. “Mrph.” With tiredness burning eyes she followed the scent of freshly made coffee, eggs, bacon, and buns. “Good morning, Millie. Take a seat. What do you want to drink?”, Gemma greeted her with a warm motherly smile. “Just a tea, please. Thank you.” “It will get easier in the future.”, Tara tried to assure her seeing her state, “Jax left me a t-shirt of his for the first few times. But it will never be like a normal day.” “Oh. I – I will speak to him. Thank you for the tip.” “Nonsense. Us Omegas and women of the club have to stick together. We are a pack. A pack that takes care of each other. If you ever need anything give me a call.” “I will remember that.” The three women ate breakfast without many conversations with each other, only interacting with the two little boys. Just as the kitchen had been cleaned up, the front door opened and the voices of two little boys screaming “Dada” reached the adults. “Hello, Ma. V-Lin, Hap wants you to take Millie to her house and stay until he comes over.”, the blond man greeted the other women before kissing his Omega. “I will get my things then.” .--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..--..-.-..-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

“You can take a seat in my kitchen if you want. Or on the porch.”, Millie offered the Prospect, “Do you want a coffee?” “I am fine. Thank you Ms.”, the prospect hummed, “I will take a seat on the porch until Happy arrives.” “Suit yourself. The machine is over there if you change your mind.” “Thank you Ms.”, the Beta stated again and took his seat on the porch, “I am sure it won´t take long for him to come over.” But he wouldn´t. It was almost dinner time and Happy still had not been there to see her and she began to worry. She believed Jax would have said something if he had been hurt, so why wasn´t he coming? Was it something she did? Had she done something during the dinner? “V-Lin. I want to prepare something for dinner, do you want something?”, She called out off the front door, tired of waiting and needing to distract herself. “He doesn´t. He will return to the clubhouse.”, Happy´s voice answered for him. Hearing his voice, her animal was both pleased and angry. Pleased that her Alpha had finally returned and angry that it took him so long. “You are back.”, she answered stepping aside to let him enter, which he happily did.

Part 7

AN: Thank you for reading :)

REBLOGS and comments are appreciated:)

~MaggY

Taglists:

Permanent

:@jadepc @pacifyhxlsey @thankyoukarenclifford @thankyouforanonymity @punkrockhufflefluff @scarletraine @buckycaptspideypool @markusstraya @graveyard-groupie @markusstrayya @randomgirlkensy @the-soulofdevil @marshyrebelcloud

Alpha next door:

@wiccanmetallicrose @gloriousqueenjellyfish @peterfrauchen @anni1607 @alexakeyloveloki

#Alpha Happy Lomann #ABO Universe #Happy Lowman x ofc #Sons of anarchy #Alpha happy Lowmann x Omega OFC

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farfromharry · 4 years ago

Note

Hiya, let me just say i love your writing. If i am ever bored i just binge read through your masterlist. Anyway, i was wondering could I make a request were harry/tom/harrison (up to you) pick reader up from like a night club and drives them home. But the reader is super tired and falles asleep so harry/tom/harrison have to carry reader into their home and put them to bed? idk I am in a super fluffy mood atm ☺️

summary: you fall asleep in the middle of harrison trying to get you home from a night of drinking

harrison osterfield x reader

w/c 638

a/n thank you so much🥺

it was close to 2am when harrison’s phone finally woke him up, your contact name across his screen enough to snap him out of his sleepy state, along with the other 4 missed calls.

“hello?” he could hear the pounding music like he was in the room himself.

“harrison, hi,” you slurred, clearly having had one too many drinks tonight.

“where are you?” he asked, his voice laced with concern for your wellbeing right now. he repeated your name down the phone when you didn’t answer him, trying to make sure you could hear him over the loud music.

“i don’t remember the name, and i don’t know where everyone went.” harrison sighed, tugging at his hair out of frustration. not exactly aimed at you, moreso your friends who had all left you while you were clearly very drunk.

you were going out with some of your friends to celebrate one of them recently getting engaged, it was supposed to be a fun night of drinking and dancing, and now here you were in the early hours of the morning left alone and confused at a club.

“i need you to tell me the name so i can come and get you,” he explained, climbing out of the warm bed to throw some clothes on over his underwear. you hummed, excusing your way through the crowd until you were outside.

you read off what the sign above the door said, resting your back up against the wall of the building.

harrison got there as quickly as he could, probably breaking a few traffic laws on the way, but he was worried that you were all alone, drunk, in the middle of the night.

you spotted him before he spotted you, calling for him to get his attention as you tried walking towards him.

“baby!” you announced, stumbling over to him on the curb. he smiled at you, wrapping his arms around your waist so he could pull you into his chest.

“you’re freezing, darling.” he pulled his hoodie over his head and helped slip it over yours, assisting you when you struggled to put your arms through the sleeves. “come on.”

he helped get you into the passenger seat of the car, making sure you didn’t hit your head on the roof.

the ride home was quite uneventful after one mishap where you thought you were going to throw up, but a few deep breaths and harrison’s hand rubbing your arm managed to make it go away.

“we’re here.”

harrison looked over to see you practically falling asleep against the car door. a small smile spread across his lips just seeing how adorable and peaceful you looked sitting there.

he was as careful as he could be when he was getting you out of his car, making sure you didn’t fall when he opened the door, and making sure all of his movements were as careful as they could be.

“i’ve got you bub.” you buried your head in his chest, tightening your arms around his neck as he slammed his car door shut. the steady beat of harrison’s heart and his warm embrace was enough to lull you to sleep in his arms, the sleep you’d been on the edge of since you’d climbed into the heated car.

you shifted slightly in his arms to get more comfortable, nuzzling your head under his chin. he carried you inside and up to your shared room.

“here we go.” he gently laid you on the edge of the bed, giving himself chance to take off your makeup and get you into comfier clothes.

you were ready for bed within 20 minutes, having harrison tuck you under the blanket.

“thank you.” he kissed your head, pulling the covers up to your chin so you would stay nice and warm.

“always.”

harrison osterfield taglist - @seutarose @euphorichxlland @hjoficrecs @hazardosterfield @bvttercupbby @call-me-baby-gir1 @fallinfortom @hollandbroz-n-haz @hopelessly-harry @siriuslyslyslytherin @musicalkeys-blog @itstaskeen @icyhollands @zspideyy @chrisosterfield @givebuckyhisplumsnow @lowkey-holland @hollandcrush @wizkiddx @sannie-san-shine @hopeless-romantic-baby @dummiesshort @thehumanistsdiary @itsbieberxholland @lillucyandthejets @piscesparker @kujokura @l0velyevans @jess-holland23

#harrison osterfield imagines #harrison osterfield oneshot #harrison osterfield imagine #harrison osterfield fluff #harrison osterfield

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jimvasta · 4 years ago

Text

Six months on Testosterone

I did an update at five months, here we go again at six months

In case you missed some previous details: I am an older than most ftm medical transitioners. Yep, I left it late mainly because my xennial idiot self had no idea I was trans for a long time - LGBTQ education was illegal when I grew up (Section 28, thanks Thatcher), the internet literally did not exist until I was in secondary school (and was dial up only), and if you get told you’re a tom girl long enough you struggle to figure it out.

So, I am married, I have children, and a career - I’m your Trans Dad but you youngsters can call me Baba. You can’t tap me for pocket money (my little live in minions have already taken everything), but you can absolutely ask me questions, get moral support (or amoral if required), and if I ever meet you in person I do give great Baba hugs.

I have been around the block few times and had the usual life disasters here and there. I count myself lucky to have survived this far!

Anyway, six months on T:

Periods are no longer a thing - yay! If I bleed now it’s because I’ve been a dumb arse and injured myself, not because mother nature is being a drama queen.

Hair - So much hair. I was expecting treasure trail and a few hairs on my chest but the extra hairs growing my upper thighs were an eye opener! Fine dark hairs on my upper lip are more fluffy than anything else and I am only shaving to get used to it.

Voice - Oh yes, it’s getting low and the worst of the cracking seems to have gone in the previous month. It may sneak up on me again though, we will have to see.

Strength - Hehe, wrestling matches with the hubby are getting good. I go to the gym and lift weights regularly, I can now match him for strength and he is having to come to terms with me being the bear in this relationship. To be fair, I really don’t think he minds,

Surgery - I see the consult for top surgery in three weeks. Given I have rather large moobs (two children will do that!) it will have to be a double incision and the first quote is £7800. In theory I could wait for the NHS, but I’d like to get surgery before retirement so private funding it is. I will see if I can get an hysterectomy through the NHS, but that’s not such a priority atm. The moobs are a huge dysphoria issue since I feel like they stop me passing and during summer it’s too hot to bind.

Hormones - Obviously, I’m now six months in. I started out on Testogel and it worked but timing when to apply it with gym workouts and an active shift working job was a pain. You can’t shower within hours of applying it which has the potential to make you chose between T levels and feeling icky/sweaty all day. My wonderful specialist laughed at me for making the decision to change just as we got my T levels in the right place and then cheerfully stabbed me in the backside with Nebido. In three months time I will go back for another round. A week later and I am already liking not having to do anything and knowing my T is there.

Random - My body temperature has gone up, I don’t feel the cold so much and I struggle stupidly in the heat. Libido, oh boy, that is crazy and hubby is loving it! My face shape is changing and fat distribution is giving me a belly and my hips are less obvious, while my shoulders are broadening.

Overall - Passing is hit and miss, hubby informed me I am in the uncanny valley stage of transition.

My workmates and I are running an experiment with the people we meet on a daily basis. I think it’s mostly women who code me as female and men who code me as male. They think it’s age based and the older a person is the more likely they are to see me as female. Results when we have a large enough study.

Remember, you do you. All my fabulous fellow cryptids, you know you’re beautiful. If you’re younger than me beware, I will adopt you if your biological family are being shitty.

#testosterone #nebido #ftm #lgbtq #transition #six months on testosterone

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set-phasers-to-whump · 4 years ago

Text

dust & glass

prompt: explosion

whumpee: nick burkhardt

fandom: grimm

hi! this fic is for @do-androids-dream-ao3acc who requested a fic with an explosion and a character of my choice. i hope you enjoy, and sorry it took a hot second lol :)

“Hey, wait for me!” Hank calls, as Nick pulls open the door into one of the abandoned offices. Nick steps back a second, looking to where his partner is hurrying around a corner, and waves him along.

“Come on, Hank,” he shouts. “Let’s get moving!”

“Hey, come on, man!” Hank yells back, indignant. Nick grins at him and pulls the door open wider.

Click.

What was that? Nick wonders, looking around. It hadn’t sounded like a gun, but…

Suddenly he’s being thrown backwards, or pushed, really, by the force of an explosion from just behind the door. He feels himself get tossed through the air, feels shrapnel dig into his skin, feels the intense heat of the blast, tastes smoke and dust, smells something burning and underneath that, something that smells like gunpowder.

For a second afterwards, he simply lies on the ground, stunned, unable to do anything beyond breathe raggedly. Alarms are going off in his head, screaming danger, but his body hurts too much to do anything in reaction.

He tries to think, and comes up empty. Then he hears someone call his name, and his brain finally starts working again. It’s Hank.

Nick struggles to his feet, ears ringing and eyes blurring from the dust. He’s insanely dizzy and barely strong enough to stand on his own, let alone move. Nonetheless, he tries to take a step, looking around at his blurry surroundings for any sign of his partner.

Hank grabs onto him before he can fall over as he attempts to start walking. His grip is strong but gentle against the cuts and bruises that litter Nick’s arms, and Nick thinks for a second about simply relaxing into Hank’s embrace, giving his battered body a rest, but he can’t let himself do that.

He pulls away instead, stubbornly refusing the help. “‘M fine,” he says, and even to his own ears it sounds like the least convincing thing in the world.

“You sure about that?”

He nods very slightly, making his head spin anyway.

“So if I just walk on out of here, you’ll follow behind me? No problem?”

“Yeah,” Nick says this time, not feeling like making himself dizzy again by nodding.

“Okay,” Hank agrees, and he turns to walk away. He gets all of ten steps before he’s turning back around.

“Okay, Nick, clearly you’re not okay. I was giving you the chance to tell me that, but if you’re gonna be stubborn about it then I’m gonna be stubborn about making sure you’re actually fine.”

As he says this, Hank walks closer to Nick, until he’s standing directly in front of him. Nick wonders what he’s seeing as Hank looks him up and down. Nothing good, surely. He’s bleeding from somewhere, he’s pretty sure. From multiple places, really, courtesy of all the shrapnel, but he can feel a spot on his torso that’s wetter than anywhere else.

The more he thinks about that particular injury, the more he can feel it, stabbing and sharp and uncomfortably warm. He thinks the blood loss might be getting to him a bit, as he feels his legs momentarily give out beneath him. He makes a quickly aborted attempt to sit down, and is about to collapse when he feels Hank’s arms wrap around his shoulders and guide him to the floor.

“What was that about being fine?” he asks, and Nick feels him gently touching the area around the wound in his torso, closing his own eyes so he doesn’t have to see it.

Nick shrugs halfheartedly, regretting the action when it causes an uncomfortable pull throughout his entire upper body. “‘S not that bad,” he mutters. They both know full well he’s had worse.

“You were caught in a damn explosion, Nick. Of course it’s that bad.” Hank’s familiar tone sounds equal parts concerned and exasperated. “I’m calling 911.”

“Hank…”

“Don’t you try and stop me. I know you’re not looking at it, and that’s probably a good idea, but you’ve got a big piece of glass sticking out of you, and I know you can feel it. You’re going to the hospital.”

A big piece of glass...Nick assumes that’s the thing causing the bulk of his bleeding. He kind of wants to look to make sure, but at the moment his closed eyes are holding back some of the dizziness and he really doesn’t want it coming back, so he decides to believe what Hank and his own other senses are telling him. There’s a large piece of glass in him. Probably some smaller ones too, he figures, given the general nature of explosions. Maybe there’s some metal mixed in there as well. He doesn’t need to see it. Doesn’t really want to, either.

“Don’t go falling asleep on me,” Hank warns, and he taps Nick’s cheek.

“Not falling asleep,” Nick assures him. “Just not lookin’.”

“Yeah, that’s...probably a good idea,” Hank agrees, which definitely doesn’t make Nick feel any better. “Ambulance is ten minutes out,” he adds, and Nick finds himself momentarily surprised - when had Hank called 911? Had he been too out of it to notice? That thought scares him more than he’d like to admit. If he can’t count on his own senses, his own powers of detection, when he’s been mildly hurt, what kind of grimm is he? What kind of cop?

“Hey, hey, breathe, man. You’re gonna be okay,” Hank says, drawing Nick’s attention away from his momentary panic.

Is he going to be okay, though? A part of Nick wants to ask this of Hank, but a larger part of him tells him to stop. If Hank says he’s going to be okay, he has absolutely no reason to think otherwise. He tries to remind himself of that fact and attempts to take a deep breath to calm down, which catches in his throat and makes him cough in the dusty air. The sensation burns its way through his entire upper body, and when it finally dies down he’s left feeling fairly exhausted, tears dripping down his face from the exertion (and definitely just from the exertion. Not from pain or fear or anything else of that nature).

“How much longer?” he asks, or rather wheezes, to Hank. He coughs again, tasting the dust in the back of his throat.

“Seven minutes,” Hank says. “Do you wanna try and get out of here? Breathing in this dust isn’t doing either of us any favors.”

“You...good?” Nick asks, at the mention of the two of them, mentally kicking himself for not asking sooner. If something had happened to Hank...if he was ignoring it in favor of helping Nick…

“No, I’m fine,” Hank assures him. “A little dusty and sore, is all. You’re the one who needs worrying about.”

As much as he hates to agree, Hank has a point. While this isn’t the most severe bleed Nick has ever experienced, it’s definitely up there, and he can feel himself starting to go a bit lightheaded with the blood loss. Besides that, his lungs feel like they’re on fire and the hundreds of tiny cuts all over his body sting in the dusty air. He’d like very much to get out of here.

As though he’s read his mind, Hank says, “let’s go, yeah? I can see a path outside, and then at least you can breathe a little easier while we wait.”

Rather than reply, Nick simply acts, pushing his palms into the ground and trying to stand. Bits of glass and rock and metal and who knows what else dig into the already-cut skin and make his hands ache, and he barely gets to his knees before the dizziness returns and nearly sends him face-planting into the ground.

Hank catches him before that happens, again, and hauls Nick to his feet, not saying a word as Nick wraps a shaking arm around him to keep his balance. He waits a moment for Nick to get situated, then says, “might be a good idea to open your eyes.”

Nick forces his eyes open, blinking rapidly in the dust, squinting to see around the spots caused by dizziness. He looks at Hank and follows his eyes to what, sure enough, appears to be a relatively easy path out of the wreckage.

“Think you can walk?” Hank asks, and Nick imagines he doesn’t have much of a choice, so he takes a step.

Hank follows suit, his arm never leaving Nick’s shoulders. They stumble several times, and twice Nick nearly collapses, and by the time they get outside of the ruined building they’re both sweaty and exhausted and sore. They sink down side-by-side onto a patch of unharmed grass, breathing hard.

“Three minutes,” Hank says, and Nick thinks he’s never been so glad to hear an estimate of time in his whole life. He lets himself sink into Hank again, feeling Hank’s arm return to its position around his shoulders. Nick rests his head against the front of Hank’s shoulder and tries his best to breathe and stay awake as they wait for help to arrive.

thanks for reading this!!! nick is ok dont worry lol i just didnt wanna do Another hospital scene i am tired of those atm...anyway i hope you enjoyed! and relating to all this like i said in a previous post i just got back from the pnw mostly portland and i have a bit of grimm related stuff i can share if anyone wants! but yeah lmk :)

#grimm #nick burkhardt #caught in an explosion #disoriented #cut #supported #my writing #i say things #anyway a lot of good things on my trip :) i got a tattoo for example.

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sylvie-writes · 4 years ago

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Summer Heat

Summary: in which the reader and her husband Andy go for a nice bike ride amidst the summer heat.

I’m making this a headcanon (My 1st at that) bc I have zero inspo atm

yeah, there is a shameful self-promotion in here if you see it.

kinda unedited, so plz pardon any mistakes

Labor Day was right around the corner, signaling the ending of summer. Soon you’d be going back to work and now was the only time you could spend with your husband.

The weather was an enjoyable 70 degrees, perfect for a bike ride. One that Andy had suggested last night over dinner.

“And tomorrow’s high will be 73 degrees, ideal weather folks!” The meteorologist then tuned off for a commercial break as you turned your attention from the tv to Andy. You could see the gears sharply turning in his head, pensive, as he mindlessly picked at the chicken.

“Whatcha thinkin’ about babe?” Reaching across the table you lightly tapped Andy’s resting hand, his head popping up from his daydream.

“Huh? Oh!” Your words replayed in his head as he hadn’t heard them in the first place. “We should go for a bike ride tomorrow. Ya know before work starts, just you and me.”

Andy looked up to you and held your hand that was once gently laying on his. A winsome smile stretched across his face.

“Sounds like a plan, bestie.” Happy with your answer, Andy resumed his dinner, you getting up for some salad.

For the bike ride, you wore some light denim shorts and a simple cantaloupe colored t-shirt, Andy wearing a red short-sleeve button down and grey shorts.

While Andy removed the bikes from the racks in the garage, you situated two water bottles and both of your wallets and cell phones.

Upon entering the garage, you stopped dead in your tracks to see Andy lifting your cruiser bicycle off of the rack, his shirt practically hermetically sealed around his arms, the buttons struggling to hold on. Once your bike was down, he went to grab his own, watching you out of the corner of his eye, making sure his movements were slow.

The two of you always goofed around, whether that be making jokes or just teasing each other.

“Muscle, baby, muscle.” Walking by, you dropped Andy’s water bottle into the holder, then tapping on his biceps as he laughed deep within his gut. Before you could walk away, his arms caught your waist, spun you around and pressed a short yet sweet kiss to your lips.

Once the two of you had your things together, Andy closed the garage while you pulled out your phone, playing a Spotify playlist that you shared with your husband, a hodgepodge of many songs.

Starting out on the street in your neighborhood, you realized there wasn't a plan for the day.

“Hey ‘Drew, where are we going exactly?”

The two of you rode side by side, making it much easier to communicate and keep track of the other.

“Into town! I was thinking, ice cream!” A devious grin grew onto his face. Andy knew you wouldn’t say no and that’s exactly what happened.

Turning out of your neighborhood and onto the sidewalk, your phone suddenly switching from “Don’t Stop Believing” to “Wannabe.”

Visibly you cringed and shook your head, about to change the song suddenly noticing Andy... attempting to dance while biking, singing along to the words.

“C’mon babe! Sing along!” You laughed at your husband’s puerility.

Ever the ham, Andy was doing this to embarrass you, to which your giggles would most definitely erupt. Your nervous habit.

The man really didn’t care if any of yours or his friends drove by, you were his wife, someone he could be a total goober around.

Finally you caved in and joined him.

“If you wanna be my lover, you have got to give.”

Eventually after a couple of nostalgic songs, you both made it into town and at the ice cream parlor.

A bike rack was cemented out front of the shop, convenient for you and Andy to lock the bikes up there.

Walking into the ice cream parlor, you both were met with a rush of cold air, or maybe it was just cold because you had been biking for quite some time now.

“Hello.. Oh! Hi! Mr. & Mrs. Barber what can I get you?” The young girl’s personality lit up once she saw your faces. Everyone in the town of Newton pretty much knew who your husband was, also making you just as known.

Returning a friendly smile to the girl, you ordered three scoops of mint chip, your’s and Andy’s favorite ever since college. (As mentioned here hehe)

Taking two spoons, you sat at the table where Andy happily eyed the stack of ice cream sitting in the bowl in front of him. Handing him the spoon, you giggled as he immediately dug into the mint chip, looking at you utterly confused.

Mouthful of ice cream your man-child answered…

“Wut?”

Some ice cream dripped down his bearded chin and you quickly reached for the napkin, dabbing his chin and dramatically sighing.

“Why have a child when I have to take care of you?”

Removing your hand from his face, Andy just shrugged his shoulders going back to mining through the ice cream scoops.

Exiting the parlor, stomachs full, your arm was wrapped in Andy’s as you strolled to the bikes. Just as Andy was about to unlatch the bikes, you stopped him.

Looking across the street you pointed to the little dress shop, the displays in the window shining from the afternoon sun.

“I need a dress for that charity dinner, that may I remind you, is the one you are dragging me to!”

Andy’s work was hosting a gala for an extension on one of the buildings.

You didn’t want to go, but your husband had to be there. Of course he didn’t want to show up either, yet he’d rather suffer with you and your jocular complaining, there to entertain him.

Compliant with your request, you both crossed the street and entered the boutique, many rows of handmade dresses lining the aisles.

Andy picked out two dresses while you already had two of your own in hand. Gladly, you took his picks and headed straight for the dressing room, a bench in front of it so you could showcase.

The first dress was a dusty rose, A-Line, asymmetrical chiffon evening dress. It’s three-quarter sleeves, stopped directly at the elbow, perfect for the upcoming fall weather.

The party was the first week of October but you wanted to get this shopping over with now.

The second dress, Andy had picked out. A burgundy floor length gown, tank sleeves and a v-neck that was stunning. Along the left leg, a slit that ran up to your knee, presenting your legs and your future choice of heels.

When showing that dress to Andy he looked up from his phone, absolutely stunned. You were always able to take away his breath, as cheesy as it sounds.

The third dress, a navy blue maxi dress. Long lace sleeves that were surprisingly comfortable.

And finally, the fourth dress. A grey cold shoulder midi dress, with some lace on the chest.

All of the dresses Andy loved, which really didn’t help. You specifically brought him along for his opinion.

So maybe you were a little indecisive on your own…

After a few minutes of debating, you received an answer.

“I love the burgundy one.”

And you agreed with him.

At the counter, Andy fought you to buy the dress to which you stubbornly replied that you’d buy it yourself.

It was a running game in your marriage. The two of you would always “fight” over who would pay.

“Just save us from the knock-down drag-out and let me pay!”

You both were really too good for each other, but in the best way possible.

The lady at the shop had politely offered to hold the dress so you could come back and get it tailored tomorrow. Very helpful since you only had bicycles as the chosen mode of transportation.

By the time you had finished dress shopping, it was already time for dinner, the ice cream dissipating and no longer able to quench your hunger.

The bicycles were still latched to the rack as you and Andy sat on the bench beside it.

“You hungry?” You nodded and Andy pulled out his phone looking for places to eat, you doing the same.

Ten minutes later, Andy had found a pizza parlor about 3 miles away, an easy bike ride for you both.

The pizza parlor chosen was your typical family-run restaurant, simple yet delicious food.

After being seated, the two of you were starving, so hungry that when the waiter came for drink orders, you also put in the pizza order.

For the twenty minutes that ensued, you and Andy shared a basket of bread, making conversation about work and such.

When the pizza showed up on the table, it was like a saint had arrived. Your empty stomachs figuratively thanked you both at the first bite of pizza.

Like ravenous animals, you both scarfed down at least two slices in a matter of minutes. Pausing, Andy looked at you and you did the same.

Setting the pizza down, the two of you just started laughing at your messy guzzling, pizza sauce on both of your faces.

The people around you were probably confused at your sudden outbursts. Then again who cares?

Once again, you wiped Andy’s face, him doing the same to you. As you wiped the sauce from his beard, Andy caught your hand and kissed your wedding ring.

“You truly are my best friend, (y/n). I don’t deserve you.”

Andy was most certainly your best friend and you his.

Eeekkk im literally screaming. I looove andy. Sorry for the crappy writing, yet thanks for sticking through it.

#andy barber #chris evans #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber x you #andy barber imagine #chris evans x reader

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lessofahoefordarkness · 4 years ago

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Request: Can you write a smutty fanfic about claes getting a blowjob from a female in their early 20s, and he swears in danish during it? 🥺👉👈 deadass, older men are my major kink, sis 💅🏿

Words: 2100-ish (I’m so sorry, my other ones will be shorter)

Notes: (A) thank you so much for this request, deadass older men are my major kink too, sis! (B) Because of authenticity purposes, I haven’t had a Danish person to consult on this so as for now, he’ll just have to speak some Swedish (except one Danish word oops). And not even enough. My apologies. Honestly I think I’ll do another shot at this request later cause I feel like this wasn’t really it. This was just something. But, thank you for inspiring me to write something for the first time in months, anon <3 Also, there was a lot I wanted in this that’s not in it, like a knife, and dripping candle wax, and being tied to the bed... yeah, I’ll post some more writing quite soon I think.

Also, I always feel a bit awkward writing names in these cause… you can see why. So technically this can be with anyone you have a preference (and daddy kink) for atm. Is this even Claes? Idk. {more rambling after the thingie}

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

It’s late in the evening when you find yourself straddling him in the large chair in his office wearing nothing but your lingerie set - one of his favourites, of course - his hair and the collar of his shirt between your fingers as you slowly feel the heat of his body against you, your hips rocking back and forth over him.

“Needy, are we, elskede?” he asks you in a low growl, exhaling a warm breath against your lips as you slowly pull away from the kiss that has begun to unravel you, part amusement, part warning in his voice. And that lust - that desire you can feel growing in him as you undo his shirt and kiss his naked, slightly salty skin, feeling him pressed against the insides of your thighs.

You feel his large hands on your hips as he grabs your soft skin, tugging at the fabrics of what little is covering you. Feeling the heat of your body against him, he pulls you in further as you gently bite and suck on the skin of his neck before taking his ear lobe between your lips. “My little pet is in heat,” he mocks you as you feel his hand slowly travel down between your thighs, his fingers gently - too gently, teasingly - grazing you through your panties as you try to ignore his words.

You exhale deeply, letting your head fall back for a second as you feel his lips on the skin of your neck, sucking, his sharp teeth scratching you and no doubt leaving those marks he is so fond of. “Elskede,” you hear his voice again, whispered slowly against your skin, making shivers run down your spine. “Min vackra lilla hora,” he continues, the tone in his voice shifting with his words. “You want daddy’s cock?” he whispers, making you exhale a trembling breath as he brings his hand up to your face, grazing your bottom lip with his thumb before slowly inserting it slightly into your mouth, feeling your wet tongue as he holds your chin up with his index finger, making you look into his dark eyes. “Then you know what to do.”

Everything is still for a moment as he looks into your eyes, waiting for you to nod gently, to surrender before he lets go of your face. You bite your bottom lip for a second, feeling that familiar need between your thighs, that throbbing, aching for him before you swallow sharply and look into his eyes with determination, the flush in your cheeks burning your skin as you compose yourself just enough not to begin to whimper and whine, grinding against him desperately until you come - he wouldn’t let you this time, you could tell.

“Duktig flicka,” you hear his low growl from above as you slowly lower yourself down from his lap to sit in the space he makes for you between his legs, looking up at him as he looks down at you with that frustratingly smug smirk on his lips.

You’ve been here many times before, on your knees in front of him. He likes the way it looks, the way it feels. He adores it. And you love the way he always looks down on you, into your eyes as tears would slowly start to drip down your cheeks. Tears that he’d softly wipe off after, telling you what a good girl you are before kissing your forehead. Telling you that you’re his. His good girl. His pretty little whore. Min vackra lilla hora, min duktiga flicka.

A low, deep breath escapes his lips as he feels your warm breath against his skin. Soft lips pressed against him gently, too gently. You both know that he wants more. Your warm, wet tongue. Your teeth dragged against him, just enough. So you go lightly, gently, playing with him, licking and kissing the insides of his thighs and all around his pelvis, breathing warm air against his sensitive skin, slowly inching closer, giving him more of what he wants but never enough. You want to feel him throbbing, needing you, reaching that desperate breaking point where he grabs your hair and forces his way down your throat. When he wants you so bad that nothing else matters.

The sounds of heavy, loud breaths and soft, wet licks and kisses soon fill the room until his voice finally breaks through again. “Fan,” you hear him exhale, feeling him lean back in his chair, pushing his hips forward towards you. “Y/N,” he says slowly as you continue to gently kiss and lick. “Elskede...” he continues as you smile to yourself against his skin. “Babygirl...”

“Suck daddy’s cock.”

There it is, straight to the point. So he clearly needs this just as much you do - good to know. You finally look up and meet his eyes which somehow seem darker than usual, seeing them travel down to your lips. You hold your gaze as you slowly stick out your tongue again and lick him slowly from his balls up to the tip of his cock, coating him in your spit as you close your lips around him.

His muscles contract and a low moan escapes his lips as he feels your mouth and lips around him, that warm wetness covering him for a second until he feels it withdrawn again, looking down at you to see you smirking up at him. Jävla tease. He looks down at you, resisting the urge to simply grab your hair and make you, as you so often challenged him to - it felt like losing. He didn’t want to make you - he wanted you to beg him for it, and he usually got his way.

“Or what?” you ask in a whisper, challenging him. It’s not that you don’t learn, no matter how much he insists that you never do, after his many lessons, it’s simply that you like this part too much. You both do.

He gives you a look and you know exactly what it means, asking if you really want to go there, again. You’re still sore from last time you played this game. Not that you’d let him know, even though he can tell by the fact that your skin is still red and bearing his mark.

You look back at him defiantly, raising your eyebrows slightly as if asking a silent “What?”.

Before you know it, you feel his hands on you again, pulling you up over his lap, a loud smack sounding through the air as you feel his large hand landing forcefully on you, the burning sensation rushing through your body, a gasp involuntarily escaping your lips. Fuck, if you hadn’t already been sore this would have been easier. Note to self: leave an appropriate amount of days between being a bit of a brat. Not that you had done much - he just has a tendency to overreact a bit when it comes to these things. It had made you roll your eyes at him in the beginning - a lot, until you had learnt to save that for special occasions only. Then again, you don’t mind a bit of pain, you both know that.

“If you want -” you began, interrupted by your own groan as his rough hand landed on you again, another smack ringing through the air. “If you -” another loud slap landing on you.

“If I didn’t have other plans for that pretty mouth of yours, I’d put a gag in it,” you hear his low melodic voice from above as you feel his hands around your wrists, trying to turn your head up to look at him but failing to as he gently but firmly turns it back down with one hand.

“If you want it so badly, you just have to ask nicely,” you tease him in as casual a tone as you can muster, finding your hands being tied behind your back, his leather belt wrapped around your wrists as the loud smack of his hand landing forcefully against your bare skin sounds through the air one last time, making you bite your lip not to scream. “You know, say please,” you tease him in a light groan as you compose yourself slightly. He ignores your comment, much to your frustration, and begins to massage the bright red spot on your skin before slowly working his way down along the side of your panties until you feel his fingertips reach your clit through the soaked, soft fabric.

“Elskede… you’re dripping,” he mocks you, applying pressure to that sweet spot while holding you firmly in place. “Does the idea of taking in daddy’s big cock excite you, princess?” he continues as you struggle in his grasp, moving your hips towards his hand, needing more.

When he finally pushes your panties to the side and inserts a finger in you, involuntary moans are escaping your lips, growing increasingly loud. You feel your cheeks growing red once more as you increasingly give into his touch - to him, his fingers alternately thrusting in and out of you and massaging your clit, withdrawing whenever your moans would get too loud, not letting you get too close, just close enough. He has many ways of reminding you that you’re his, and this is one of them. Usually he’d make sure he could look into your eyes as he’d toy with you in this way, making you switch between moans and whimpers as he teases you over and over again until you finally give in and start pleading, begging him for more.

“Tell me how much you need me,” he urges you as your mind grows clouded and your body begins to tense up in that familiar way, small shocks running through it as you feel his hand between your thighs. “Who do you belong to?” he asks, one of his favourite questions. “Who does this pussy belong to, huh?” he continues as you bite your lip not to scream what he wants to hear and instead whisper a gentle “fuck” and moan his name as he drives you closer and closer before you suddenly and without warning find yourself being pushed back up again, forced to stand on your trembling legs before you feel his hand land another slap on your sore skin. “Go on,” you hear his voice cold from behind you, daring you to leave before you turn around to face him again, meeting his eyes.

“Good girl,” you hear his low growl of a voice from above you as you get down on your knees in front of him again, your hands still tied behind your back, your thighs wet and your mind clouded with need as he repeats his questions and you give him the answers he wants to hear, those that you love saying, in the right moment - that you’re his, that you need him, how badly you need him inside you, stretching you out and filling you up.

He brings his hand to the side of your face and feels your smooth skin, placing a strand of hair behind your ear before he slowly brings it down, his thumb grazing your bottom lip once more as he holds onto your chin, looking into your eyes. “Min duktiga flicka,” he whispers slowly, holding you in place so gently before telling you that you’ve done enough talking for now - that there once more is better use for that pretty mouth of yours. “Min söta lilla hora.”

“Now show me your tongue,” he instructs you, shifting slightly in his seat as he slowly lets go of your lip and you do what he instructs you to. “Fan, du är så jävla vacker,” he exhales deeply as he grabs a fistful of your soft hair at the back of your head, feeling it between his fingers before pulling you in, feeling your warm mouth and throat close around him at last, finally taking him in as he sets the pace.

***

“Fan, [Y/N],” you hear him exhale a moan in a low, husky voice as you feel his seed running down your throat, swallowing it as you look up at him, taking a few deep breaths as you both compose yourselves. “Det var väl inte så svårt?” he mocks you before wiping a tear from your cheek and some drool from your bottom lip. “Duktig flicka,” he repeats before pulling you up into a kiss and lifting you onto the desk, his lips warm against yours, his breath grazing your skin as he begins to travel down your body - your neck, your breasts, his teeth biting into your nipples, making you moan in pain and pleasure before he finds his way down to between your thighs again - time for your reward.

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

The thirst list is back! (let me know if you want me to take you off it please) xo

@drsherlockmoffat @punk-courtesan @girlonfireice @nifflersravenclaw @carydorse @mr-kisskiss-bangbang @allangel1 @angelicdestieldemon @crowley-needs-a-hug @ayatimascd @malkaviangirl @deny-black @wasntpriscilla @festering-queen @b3laacordada-blog @kokoro-no-yami @lost-girl-inc @your-pixels-are-showing @supersleepyfangirlthings @gennesisloraine-blog @nonofievet @mewnsie @skeletongrudge @wibbily-wobbily-fan-girl10 @fijnlief @leah-halliwell92 @ione77 @little-sis-kitty @bunnyreese12 @bangclaesbang @onyxthevampire @kaddis-world @newheart97 @beyond-antares @allis143 @hiphop-gir @thebeautyofdisorder @fijnlief @dracula-s-bride-deactivated2020 @lauren0994 @camille-stark @feralstare @nosferatvpussy @crossoverqueen89 @clairedragonessbaker @undead-notunreasonable @winter-jack-whiskey @profiler-in-courage @claesdracula @cam-bang

So... more rambling for myself:

I should have been applying for jobs but instead I’ve written like 3 smutty one-shots today. Also, I haven’t felt like writing anything since the last time I had things to procrastinate (my studies, wow, the nostalgia) - can you sense a pattern?

Lastly, this was gonna be like 400 words and ended up being 2000+ so I guess I’m back on my BS again. My apologies. The next one will be shorter and... more. Like a lot more. Like a church and blasphemy kink and stuff I think for @thebeautyofdisorder . Love you all and thank you so much for reading!! xo

#posting something written for the firts time in like half a year??#the next one will have the juicy stuff idk what this is but it ain't it but as my friend said #~you have to start vanilla and work your way up~#at least it was ethically sourced #all from the brain of yours truly #lucky for you I managed not to include a single DA VINKY #it took a lot of effort believe me #this totally isn't claes btw is it?#istg the man seems more like someone who wants to be tied up himself rather than do the tying ya know what I mean #no shame in that #honestly wanna tie him up #oh yeah happy anniversary claes #*awkward silence* *crickets chirping*#to tag or not to tag that is the question #modern day shakespeare here #claes bang #dracula 2020 #bbc dracula #idk wtf to tag #i'm writing tags to not have to post quite yet #but yeah the other will have spice cause this feels bland #it's the british version of any food ever #me @ me: just post bitch

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queerlytical · 4 years ago

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Unpacking my aversion to cis-het men - 08/12/2020

This is going to be a long one. One I’m quite nervous about posting about even when I’m here anonymously!

Will probably refer to cis-het men as men/guys generally in this post btw. & the ex I refer to here is a guy I was with for 5 years which was an emotionally abusive relationship.

I’ve recently started to challenge my feelings towards cis-het men. Accepting that I have the judgement that all men are basically weak minded by not challenging society as it is (and therefore accepting of all the oppression), and are desperately affected by toxic masculinity.

A small part of my brain knows that’s not true. I have a couple of cis-het male friends who I love and are clearly not like that. But when I think “what would be the problem if I ended up with a man in the future?” the other part of my brain immediately shuts the idea down like “why would you do such a thing?! you only like women, end of story”. Thinking that the guys who are open minded and unpacking their own priveleges/opinions etc. are so few and far between there is probably none left out there for me to meet.

So I decided to challenge this notion. And perhaps there is some underlying internal homophobia conflicting with these thoughts at the same time like “if I just gave men a chance.” or “it would be so much easier to just find a guy who is interested in me” (there is a lot underlying that quote tho - not that many wlw in my area, my personal feelings towards myself as to how cis-het men perceive me).

Along with challenging this notion, I have basically been craving to be dominated and penetrated in the bedroom, with no particular strings attached. The people I’ve slept with this year weren’t great experiences and I just wanted someone to push me around and top me. I know there are women who would gladly do that but the women I tend to date haven’t been like that and I’ve always been more of the top than the bottom. I have never entertained a guy for sex where I have decided for myself that this is what’s going to happen, I’ve always been pursuaded into it (I didn’t learn about consent until the last couple of years, clearly). I wanted to feel that control. I wanted to be the one to say, I’ve decided this this time. And to see, how I would actually feel given that this was something I wanted and not sort of forced onto me.

I changed my Bumble search to include “everyone”. Note that I had also ran out of women in my search radius by this stage so it was just men coming up now. It was interesting. I noticed that there are a lot of guy profiles that are basically the same - “where can you be found after work? the gym” or “what do you quote too much from? the office, US”. Literally after swiping for about 10 minutes I could have written the exact same profile as like 40% of these profiles I was now faced with.

I obviously ended up swiping left for the majority of guy profiles. I paid more attention to the men who had kind eyes, nice smiles, beards (I love a beard strangely enough), and anything interesting in their profile. I struggled to swipe right on white men in particular. I think this makes sense due to:

my ex being white and racist (and I have a tendency to want to get as far as possible from this particular ex),

a close friend who was my only white cis-het friend who then turned out to be a racist tory

my dad who is white, racist and homophobic (not terribly but enough to make me uncomfortable to discuss anything with him).

Plus the general consensus that white cis-het men are the most priveleged in society and they can never understand someone like me, right? Let alone have done any of the unpacking and learning about their own privilege..

I matched with a few guys and had brief conversations with them before getting overwhelmed about messaging people on dating apps (happens whenever I can’t keep on top of messaging like more than one person at a time). There were some okay chats, nothing overly flirty. Some voicenotes which freaked me out a little, not 100% sure why hearing men’s voices so early after speaking to someone online scares me, but it’s probably because I’m not as comfortable sending voicenotes myself.

There was a lot of me saying to myself “what am I doing?! LOLOLOL”

I’m going to talk about one of the guys in particular now. We’ll call him Z. Z’s profile was very minimal, basically just said “ask if you want to know more”. But he had a nice face, lovely smile, and his first picture even looked quite feminine in the face - he has super long eyelashes and due to the lockdown hair he was wearing a hairband. He’s Asian (Sikh) like my two closest friends. I have spoken to him more than any of the other matches from Bumble. We don’t really talk much of substance. I told him I’m “basically a lesbian” quite early on and he told me he’d been healing from a long relationship and was now “ready to have some fun”. He didn’t seem particularly phased that I was into women, didn’t say anything cringey like “don’t worry, I’ll turn you” (which is what I used to get when I was younger). This pushed the conversations in a direction where it was kind of agreed that this was all a bit of fun - flirty, sexual.

My first experience with a guy being interested me back in high school eventually turned into a FWB situation so this type of relationship I am used to and basically expect from men.. I’m not particularly bother by this atm but might unpack this some more at some point.

Anyway, as me and Z are just having some fun, I’ve not been vulnerable or told him much about things I care about - I don’t even think he knows my full name. It has actually been a breath of fresh air when I’ve been with people who are too intense for me throughout my dating life. He is very much the kind of person I would never usually interact with too- likes and plays football, hangs with a group of “lads”. I don’t think we have anything in common yet we still manage to chat (albeit with gaps of many hours in between some messages).

What did interest me about Z quite early on in our conversations is that he never said the word “girls”, always “women”. I pointed this out to him and he confirmed he did that on purpose because he wouldn’t want to be referred to as a “boy” and that women deserve the same language used when referencing grown ass women. This sticks in my mind as it definitely broke down one of my mental barriers around men not being able to understand “what’s the big deal”. I think that’s probably why I’ve managed to speak to him for as long as we have. Later on he also mentioned that people “can’t be fat shaming” which surprised me even more. (Does my brain think cis-het men live under a rock or something?!).

We’ve been speaking 3 weeks at this stage. We agreed to meet this weekend. We ended up delaying it from Sunday to last night (Monday) because he was tired from a busy weekend and “wanted to give me the full experience”. Surprisingly this didn’t make me super cringe. I think I was probably more relieved to delay it another day as I was pretty nervous about how it would go, my head overthinking like - what if we have nothing to talk about? what if he comes all this way and I change my mind (as I am of course allowed to)? what if he’s a catfish and hurts me? etc. etc. I don’t overthink this much when I date women.

So he was on his way. I was running in circles getting ready like “WHAT AM I DOING?!!!”. I had some rum to take the edge off and played the piano anxiously while he was on the way as something to take my mind off thinking about what was about to happen.

He arrived. He was who he said he was. He was the person who was in his pictures. He was slightly slimmer than I expected but that was just the angles that his pictures were taken in. It wasn’t awkward. I poured us a drink and we sat on the sofa and chatted for a couple of hours. He talked a lot, I hardly got a word in edgeways. I didn’t mind as it put me at ease that there was no awkward silences.

We finished our drinks. I hadn’t left the heating on in my lounge so it had gotten quite cold.. I got closer to him. Then we kissed. It was nice. I love kissing anyone who’s a good kisser no matter their gender. The excitement of the whole situation turned me on and we took it to my bedroom.

I struggled to look at him naked although when I did, I didn’t feel strange like I thought I would. Obviously there is nothing wrong with the male form, I just haven’t seen a dude naked in my bedroom for years and when I was younger I used to tell myself I had phallophobia.. The sex was pretty much what I was looking for. He didn’t bring a condom though which didn’t annoy me loads in the moment, despite him saying “I prefer without but ok” to which I replied “I don’t know where you’ve been” *eye roll*. I thankfully had my own condoms (my stash usually for making dental dams, yno) but after I was kind of thinking to myself like “who the fuck goes to have casual sex with someone and doesn’t bring a condom when they have a penis?!”. I didn’t even let my ex bare-back me let alone some random dude.

Anyway, I did it. Consensual sex was better than any sex I had with my ex (not surprising). He didn’t make me climax but it felt good (sex isn’t goal orientated for me but I know it was for him, as I assume it is with most men). We held each other and chatted naked for a while after. I think he wanted round 2 but I’m not sure I could have handled it. He left relatively promptly after and I felt.. content.

I think I got what I wanted out of the experience. It definitely boosted my confidence. I’m not sure if I’ll see him again yet. I definitely still feel very queer and mostly into women, I missed boobs a lot (like what do het-women hold onto?).

Part of me is like “okay next step is to see what it would be like to go on a romantic date with a guy” - something I have never ever done. I don’t think I’ve been interested in it in the past (since growing up that is). I can’t even imagine what it would be like because I would probably just treat them as my friend and have no clue how to flirt (if I even wanted to flirt). But there are many conflicting thoughts about dating men romantically - what if it’s a success? I’d end up feeling disowned by my new queer friends or judged by them, or what if I hurt someone? how will dating guys impact how I feel about my own queerness?? I just settled back into my queer identity and now it feels I’m going backwards again.

I am definitely enjoying this new side to me that doesn’t take dating seriously and being comfortable that I don’t want a relationship right now and that’s okay! I am continually learning about myself and trying to breakdown my own barriers so I can be my most true authentic self. I’m having fun, and doing what’s best for me. Which is a complete u-turn on the person I was less than a few years ago who just wanted to please everyone and was so depressed and burnt out doing so.

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silvanable · 5 years ago

Text

Tag Game - Get to Know Me

Answer the questions below and tag 11 people you want to know better!

i was tagged by @moody-typos and it looked like fun so i thought why not.

. • . • . • . • .

1. What do you prefer to be called name wise?

silv, silvy, or silvana. i don’t particularly mind as these are all technically the same. so all of them i guess are my preferred name.

2. When is you birthday?

june 26th!

i like to remark that’s the day the US legalized gay marriage in all 50 states back in 2015 so i was born to be gay. 🏳‍🌈🌈

3. Where do you live? (You don’t have to give city, you can give the state if you’re USA or country if you’re overseas)

US if the previous statement wasn’t obvious.

another hint: it’s hot and it rains too much here. good luck finding me~

4. Three things you are doing right now?

writing ( non-fanfic work ), listening to music ( FEEL NOTHING atm ), & working on headcanon requests from my inbox.

5. Four Fandoms that have your peak interest right now?

my hero academia, ikemen sengoku, mr. love queen’s choice, & castlevania. these are currently my most consistent hypes that won’t let me go.

6. How has this pandemic been treating you?

at first i thought it would be great but i’ve been stuck inside ( i literally have not been passed my mailbox or even near it ) for 3 months or so now. i’m ready for it to be over because i would like to enjoy my summer while i still have the opportunity.

overall i’m stressing myself out and unmotivated to do a lot of things.

7. A song you can’t stop listening to right now?

Contagious by NIGHT RIOTS, been obsessed with it since February of 2019.

but i also recommend:

Fashion Forward (Acoustic) by The Home Team

I Miss Having Sex But At Least I Don’t Wanna Die by Waterparks

8. Recommend a movie.

Birdbox. Sandra Bullock is in it ( reason enough for me ) it’s a great sort of horror/thriller movie that really builds suspense by your imagination. if you’re easily scared i do not recommend it because your mind will definitely work against you.

A milder movie ( that isn’t horror ) would be Mad Money. it is a hilarious movie about 3 women from entirely different backgrounds that work at and rob a high security bank ( and all for different reasons ). the characters are quirky and well put together.

both are on the US netflix but i’m not sure about anywhere else.

9. How old are you?

not old enough to drink yet. yet.

10. School, University, Occupation, Other?

i’m in university. i’m studying to become an accountant ( but so far my business classes have only taught me how to destroy the economy in my favor while jumping through legal loopholes oof ).

11. Do you prefer heat or cold?

definitely cold. i hate both if we’re talking weather but i can cope with cold. i tend to get even more tired in the cold and it helps me sleep ( hibernate technically ).

12. Name one fact about you that others may find unusual.

well... if i’m being honest, i have very horrible eyesight ( i’m almost completely blind in one eye ) and people seem more than a little worried when i tell them i can incapacitate a humanoid target from a 100 yards ( ~92 meters, at least ) and i have the target poster to prove it.

i won’t get into it but if you want to know how that poor poster is doing just let me know.

13. Are you shy?

relatively. if i know you, i’m the loudest damn person you know, or if it’s a matter of discussion, i tend to have a very powerful persona ( or so i’m told ).

generally i will not talk to people and keep to myself though. people make me nervous and i struggle to cope with anxiety so i don’t go out of my way to talk to people ( so i just end up sneaking glances if you pique my interest but i can’t say anything to you ).

14. Do you have preferred pronouns?

i prefer they/them, however, i still align with female attributes so she/her is legit too. whichever, i’m not picky about it.

15. Biggest pet peeve?

slow walkers. this might not be #1 but it’s definitely up there. i walk incredibly fast ( especially for a person with short legs ) and have long strides. if you’re in front of me and blocking my way, you can bet i’m going to mow you over. i will not slow down.

16. What is your fave ‘dere’ type?

the first one to come to mind was yandere and it’s probably true. it’s the mindset of the yandere that draws me in. if they’re written and played out well they become people who we’re teetering on the edge of becoming if we aren’t careful. i love that terrifying feeling of “i could be that if i just step wrong”.

17. Rate your life 1-10, 1 being really crappy and 10 being best it could ever be.

i really don’t want to do that, because i’m in an okay place and sometimes i’m in bad or good, but really it depends on the moments, people, and little messages that make it better. just depends on the time of day.

18. What is your main blog?

@moonsirens

haven’t honestly decided what i’ll do with it so it will probably just be a repost and dump?

19. List your side blogs and what they are used for.

one of them is private that i can’t tag & it’s used for roleplay stuff ( aesthetics, character files, images, etc ).

@spellbound-doodles which is my art blog i am still to chicken to post to. i should but sharing personal works, stories, & art is really hard for me ( a best friend had to make an instagram for my art for me to get me to start posting! )

20. Is there anything you think people need to know about you before becoming friends with you?

expect me to bother you about my dog and the horrible jokes my brother made that i absolutely have to share because they made me laugh so hard i cried.

also, footnote, i’m satan soooo-

but that’s a story for another time.

. • . • . • . • .

tagging : most people i’m vaguely familiar with have been tagged, so i guess whoever wants to snatch it up and give it a shot? i’ll tag you then-

#tag game #what's a silv

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moonlightrichie · 6 years ago

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i’ll be your light (i will guide you home)

Chapter 1 - “Tour groups sure are fun, aren’t they?”

My contribution to the @itfandomprompts IT Fandom Week day 3: Summer Romance AU This started simple, but I got super carried away so now it’s a multi-chaptered thing oops I’m not even sorry

Summary:

Eddie is on his summer vacation when he meets the charming tour guide Richie Tozier, and even though he's only staying there for five days, that doesn't stop Eddie from falling utterly and completely in love.

Word count: 6908 Pairing: Reddie Rating: Explicit (this chapter isn’t, but there will be sexual content in a later chapter) Warnings: Mentions of sex, drinking alcohol, cursing

READ ON AO3 HERE

Eddie had always dreamt of travelling across Europe with train. Ever since listening to Bev and Ben talk about the trip they went on the summer three years ago, it was all he wanted to do. From Berlin to Prague to Paris, then Budapest and Brussels, to Munich and Amsterdam, all these wonderful places he’d heard so much about, but never seen for himself.

Ben had been his best friend ever since they were kids and they had stayed that way until they finished high school. Beverly had come into their lives the senior year when Ben started dating her, and she’d fit in so well with them that it felt natural to go from a duo to a trio. And even though they were couple, the two of them never acted in a way that made Eddie feel like he was third-wheeling.

It had been Beverly who had wanted to go to Europe that summer after graduation, the adventurous girl that she was, and so her and Ben planned it together, saving up tons of money for the train tickets. If Eddie was honest, he had been horrified at the thought of travelling like that, three weeks with no permanent place to stay, living in shitty motels, a new one every couple of days.

Didn’t seem like a very relaxing vacation if you asked him.

But when the two of them had returned, they had seemed like new people, suntanned and happier than Eddie had ever seen them.

And the stories they told, oh wow, Eddie had gotten so jealous. How beautiful the Eiffel Towel looked at night when it lit up, how it would sparkle for a couple of minutes every passing hour after dark. How devastating it was in Berlin when they heard all the terrible stories about concentration camps and the Berlin wall during a tour, but yet how cool some of the artwork on the wall was. How good the waffles were in Brussels (the best they’d ever tasted) and how there was a five-story nightclub in Prague with a different theme for each floor.

“You should have seen it!” Beverly had said. “It closed at 7am and when we left our motel, I’d thought no way in hell are we staying that long. I was thinking like maybe we’d leave around 3am or something? But then the hours just flew past, and we danced and drank- it cost less than two bucks a beer, did you know that? Two fucking bucks! Anyways, before I knew what was happening the club was emptying out and I was all like, what’s happening, where is everybody going? We had been partying for six hours straight without even noticing! All night long!”

“Wow”, Eddie had said, not quite able to imagine Ben partying all night. They hadn’t even been old enough to drink in the states at that point.

But then there was the story from Paris about the motel they’d stayed at. They’d gotten to the city late that day and after checking into the motel. They’d gone out for a late-night dinner, and then when they’d gotten back at around 11pm, there had been a random man sleeping in their bed.

“We were just walking in, chatting quietly and planning to go to bed when Bev saw him”, Ben had explained. “She’d quieted down as I was rummaging around in my suitcase, poking at my shoulder frantically and pointing at the bed. So we quickly left and checked out of the hotel, I mean… we couldn’t stay.”

“Yeah! And we didn’t even get our money back”, Bev had added.

“Yeah, but it was an interesting experience.”

“And it’s turned into a great story.”

Eddie had listened with wide eyes, knowing that he himself would have been terrified. If it was that easy breaking into a motel room, he was definitely not ever staying in one. Beverly had only laughed when telling the story though, so she was obviously not that traumatized by the incident.

Oh yes, Eddie sure dreamed of purchasing that Interrail ticket and just go. Only he’d book some proper hotels just to be on the safe side. Then again, he didn’t want to do it alone, but his friends weren’t able to come with. They had spent too much on their Interrail that one summer, making it impossible for them to afford a trip that expensive again. And even though he’d asked them every single year since, hoping they’d say yes, they’d only apologetically shaken their heads instead.

Eddie didn’t use to see himself as a person who liked to travel, but he’d definitely changed his mind. Who was he to decide that when he hadn’t even tried it? Besides, he’d lived his whole life in Derry, and he craved to get out. His fingers had been itching all year, a deep pain in his chest festering with every day passing, and it was summer again. And finally, he was going on his first travelling experience.

And okay, so it wasn’t interrailing across Europe, but instead the west coast of the US. And fine, it wasn’t l’Arc du Triomphe and Belgian Chocolate, but instead Hollywood and maybe the Grand Canyon if he was lucky. And yes all right, it wasn’t with his friends, but with his Ma.

But at least they were travelling by train.

Oh, who was he kidding, he was on a vacation with the one person he needed a vacation from. And it wasn’t that he hadn’t looked forward to visiting California and Nevada and seeing their beautiful cities and nature, but he had truly struggled a whole lot getting real excited about it.

As he stepped out into the LA light for the first time in his life, suitcase in hand and grease in his hair, he felt the Hollywood sun blind his vision, and for a second he was overwhelmed at the contentment settling in his chest. Closing his eyes he let himself breathe in the thick air, and he smiled slightly to himself. After the four-hour ride, it was nice to finally move his feet again. They’d had to get up at 7am to take the train that left at 8:30am, and even though he was tired, Eddie was glad to have the whole extra day to spend there.

Los Angeles was their third destination, and one of the longest stays on their trip (four nights, five days), and it was definitely the one he had looked the most forward to.

“I’ve booked us a tour in Hollywood at 3pm”, his Ma said from next to him, already holding a map of the city. “I think we have time to get to our hotel and leave our baggage there before going out again.”

“Do I have time for a shower?”

He hadn’t had time for his routinely morning shower, and he was starting to feel gross. Earlier on the train, he’d put on a sweater on top of his t-shirt to hide the sweat patches under his arms. And even though that’d only made him sweat more, it had made him more comfortable, knowing he could move his arms properly without everyone seeing.

“I think so.”

So that’s what they did, and soon later, at 2:58pm, the two of them were standing with a tour group in the walk of fame, waiting for the tour guide to show up.

“Oh, hold on”, his Ma said suddenly, rummaging through her purse. “I need to take out some cash.”

“I think I saw an ATM around the corner back there.” Eddie pointed back to where they had come from.

“Good, I’ll be right back.” And she was gone.

Uncomfortable he looked around at the tour group, all evident tourists in shorts and tank tops with backpacks and maps in their hands. A group of girls in their twenties had dressed up in what they’d probably call ‘Instagram worthy outfits’ with caked makeup (one of them had overdrawn her lips a whole lot with bright red lipstick), all holding phones ready in their perfect manicured hands. There were a few couples there, one specifically who wasn’t able to keep their hands off of each other. The girl was stroking the guy’s arm way too sensually for the public eye to see, and Eddie looked away uneasily. Then there was what seemed to be a Scandinavian family, all of them blonde and pretty. The dad was wearing an ugly beige baseball hat with a moose on it, and Eddie wrinkled his nose.

“Tour groups sure are fun, aren’t they?” A raspy voice interrupted Eddie’s observations from behind him, and he spun around frantically.

A tall man seeming to be around the same age as Eddie was smiling down at him, crooked teeth on full display. With the sun suddenly blinding him, Eddie put up a hand over his eyes to block the bright light, and he could see the man properly now.

With a mop of dark curly hair and pretty blue eyes behind massive glasses, he managed to make Eddie speechless for a couple of seconds.

“Uh…”

“In this unbearable heat, this should be a lot of fun, don’t ya think?” the man continued, lifting his eyebrows in expectation of an answer.

“Sure.” Eddie felt completely and utterly awkward, not really the best at talking to strangers, and especially not tall, lanky guys with shining eyes and a charming smile.

“You here alone?” he asked, either seeming to not notice Eddie’s awkwardness or simply choosing to ignore it.

“I’m with my mom, she had to go take out some cash.” He pointed with his thumb behind him.

“Aah”, the guy nodded his head. “A nice family vacation then?”

Eddie shrugged. “It’s fine.” He groaned internally at his lame answers, for some reason wanting to impress this guy and for him to find Eddie interesting enough to keep talking to him. There was no denying that the man was cute.

“Well Hollywood’s real nice, lots of fun things to do, so I’m sure you’ll have a great time.” The man poked Eddie’s upper arm with his elbow, a playful smile on his pink lips.

“Well”, Eddie fumbled, looking down at his watch to see that the tour was supposed to start four minutes ago. “As long as the tour guide bothers to show up, then maybe I will.” He laughed, a little awkwardly.

The man creased his eyebrows, a semi-shocked expression taking over his face, and Eddie regretted his words instantly, scared he was coming off as mean.

He continued looking at him for a few seconds, but then his facial expression turned amused. He laughed slightly, just a small huff coming out his nose. “Yeah, kinda douche baggy to not show up for the tour you’re guiding, am I right?”

Eddie breathed out in relief, his next words flowing out of him before he could even think. “Right? Bad enough getting stood up by a date, but by the tour guide? I’m heartbroken”, he said sarcastically, trying for a small smile.

The guy only laughed more, Eddie joining in carefully before the two of them stopped and a comfortable silence settled between them.

“What’s your name?” the guy asked.

“It’s Eddie.”

“It was very nice meeting you Eddie, but I kinda need to get goin’. I’m late for work.” He winked at him, and Eddie could feel disappointment already forming in his chest, the pride he’d felt from making this pretty man laugh disappearing quickly.

But then the guy just stepped back a little, reached into the back pocket of his shorts and took out a black baseball hat. In confusion, Eddie looked as the guy put it on and clapped his hands loudly, attracting the attention from the other tourists.

“Alright, guys! Welcome to Hollywood. I’m Richie and I’ll be your tour guide today.” Eddie could feel all the heat in his cheeks disappear immediately, heart picking up speed. Looking at the man’s, Richie’s, hat, he noticed that it clearly said ‘tour guide’ in big red letters.

Oh, how Eddie had messed up.

“I’m sorry I was a little late, I got distracted”, he looked over at Eddie briefly; something of a small secret smile forming on his lips as they locked eyes, and he winked. “I’ll start by telling you a little bit about the background of the Hollywood Walk of Fame, and then we’ll walk down it after, sounds alright?”

The group gave scattered ‘yes’-es and nods of their head.

He noticed just then that his Ma was back by his side. “This will be so much fun, Eddie-bear”, she whispered to him, clapping her hands silently together.

He could only nod, his eyes locked on Richie.

The guided tour lasted for about two hours, and more than once Richie would look over at Eddie with that same smile and a spark in his eyes. Being funny and cracking dry jokes, he made the tour group laugh a lot between the informative parts of his script. Eddie didn’t doubt the jokes were scripted too, probably not the first time he was saying them today.

When it ended they were in the middle of the most popular part of the Walk of Fame, where there were tourists taking pictures with impressionists that had dressed up like Darth Vader and Spiderman and look-alikes of Justin Bieber and Britney Spears.

It was chaotic to say the least, and Eddie just wanted to get something to eat, starting to get tired from all the walking and still worn-out from the lack of sleep after the early train-ride.

“Let’s get something to eat, Ma”, he turned to her.

“Sure, bear”, she started looking around for a restaurant. “That tour was great, wasn’t it?”

“Sure.”

She reached down in her purse to take out her wallet. “I have some cash here, maybe you could go tip the guide a little while I find somewhere to eat?” She placed a five-dollar bill in his hand.

He nodded his head, and she smiled before taking out her phone, probably to search up different eating locations in the nearby area.

As Eddie started walking towards Richie, he noticed him already looking at him. It seemed like he was talking to the Scandinavian family, and they were laughing at something he’d said.

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed the tour! Have a great vacation!” Eddie heard him say. The family all said their thanks before scattering away just as he stepped up in front of Richie.

“Uhm, the tour was really great”, he reached out his hand, the tip between his fingers.

“Thanks”, Richie smiled and took the cash, their hands brushing for a second.

“And I’m really sorry for earlier, I’m absolutely mortified”, Eddie admitted, shaking his head with wide eyes.

Richie only smiled wider, eyes squinting at the bight sun in his eyes. “Don’t be, it was cute. And it was funny, I mean, you were right, so…”

Eddie chuckled sarcastically. “No seriously, that was totally uncalled for. The tour really was great.”

“Well, I’m glad, and I accept your apology”, Richie winked again.

“Alright, well, bye then”, Eddie smiled sadly at the thought of having to leave. Honestly, Eddie didn’t really ever get much attention from guys. Being gay had made it difficult for him to flirt obviously, having more than once been shot down by straight guys who’d told him things like ‘sorry, dude, I’m not gay’ in their most bro-voice, even close to sounding offended at the accusations that they might be.

But this time, Eddie was sure they’d had some sort of connection; at least Richie had seemed to be flirting with him. Or maybe he was only being friendly, and Eddie was seeing things that weren’t there, letting the excitement of being flirted with get the best of him.

He started to walk away, missing the way Richie’s smile dropped when he turned around.

“No, wait!” Richie yelled after him.

Eddie spun around. “What?”

“Are you free tonight?” he sputtered out in a rush.

The question caught Eddie off guard, and he stopped for a second to collect his thoughts. “I, uhh…”

Richie interrupted him before he could continue.

“Because yeah, being a tour guide is my job and all, you know, gotta make that bank and gets that moneys.” He rubbed his fingers together in a ‘cash’-gesture. “But I also play in a band? And we’re playing a concert tonight at this local pub. It’s not too far from here actually, but in a little more of a secluded area than the Walk of Fame, you can see how it is.” Richie was rambling, sounding almost nervous. “I just mean, maybe you’d like to come? Not to be rude or assuming, but you don’t really seem to be having the best time on your vacation, and I get that, especially if you only have your mom to hang out with. So I just thought maybe this would be fun? Getting to experience a normal LA night out and not just the façade that the tourists see when they visit, ya know? And I’d also really like to see you again too, and uhm…”

He stopped himself, scratching timidly at his neck and finally realizing he’d been talking for way too long. With his monologue, Eddie’s smile had grown larger by the second, absolutely charmed by the cute man in front of him.

The hat was still perched on his head, dark curls pushing out from underneath it, and in a way it framed his head in a weird way, but it only made him even more mesmerizing to watch. Now that he was no longer silhouetted by the sun, but instead lit up by it, Eddie could get a good look at his face.

With freckles all over his pale skin and blue eyes glittering in the shadow from his hat, he was now looking at Eddie with a blush on his face and a crooked smile playing on his lips. He still had some awkwardness to him, being much taller than Eddie with gangly limbs and eyes magnified behind his glasses.

In a way, Eddie was surprised at the nervous ramble Richie had just stammered out after seeming to be so smooth when they first started talking.

All in all, the man was undeniably charming and cute, and Eddie would love to see him again. So he nodded, trying to hold back the wide smile that was trying to force its way onto his face. “I’d love to.”

Seeming almost surprised, Richie breathed out in relief. “Shit, that’s… Uh, that’s great! It starts at 10:30pm, and we have a soundcheck at 7. But I have time after that, so I can probably meet you here at 9 then? And we can walk there together?”

“Sounds great”, Eddie nodded, smiling widely. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

Richie’s grin grew bigger. “Me too.”

Silence settled over them, both smiling at each other shyly.

“Eddie!” They were interrupted by the voice of his Ma. They both turned, and she was waving Eddie over. “I found an Italian place that looks pretty nice!”

“Coming, Ma!” He turned back to Richie, hands on his hips. “I have to go.” He nodded his head in the direction of his Ma.

“Okay.” Richie cocked his head to the side. “You like Italian?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, important question. Pizza or pasta?”

Eddie snickered lightly, his laughter fading into a thoughtful ‘uh’. “I think pizza.”

Richie nodded his head approvingly. “Pizza’s a good choice. I prefer pasta myself.” Then he pressed his lips together to suppress a smile. “I mean you’re quite the snack, Spagh-Eddie.” He amplified the pronunciation by splitting up the words, putting extra pressure on the last part.

Eddie sputtered. “Oh, god, that’s…” he shook his head. “That’s so bad.”

“Oh, what can I say, I’m quite the bad boy.” Richie winked.

Eddie put up his hands with a shocked scoff. “Nuh uh, nope, I’m cancelling our plans, this is goodbye.”

Of course he was kidding, and Richie knew that, if the amused smile on his face was anything to go by. “Nah, you’re too charmed by me.”

And of course Richie was just messing around, but Eddie couldn’t help but smile genuinely. “Yeah, I am.”

Richie’s eyebrows rose slightly, seeming to process Eddie’s admission. “Oh.”

“I’ll see you at 9”, Eddie said before Richie could say anything else. “Bye.”

Then he turned around and started walking towards his Ma, barely catching the dazed ‘bye’ from Richie.

His Ma looked impatient, tapping her foot on one of the stars with a name Eddie had never heard before.

“What took so long?”

Eddie kept quiet for a second, considering what to tell her. “I have plans tonight.”

“What?” She gaped. “But we’re on a vacation together, the two of us.”

“I know, Ma”, Eddie sighed. “But he asked if I wanted to go to a pub tonight, and I really want to.”

“No, I’m not allowing that”, she declared.

“You don’t get to decide that”, he snapped. “Ma, I’m 22 now, you can’t stop me from doing things for myself.”

She only grumbled, unlocking her phone to open the maps app. It was obvious the discussion was over, nothing she could do about it.

The pasta restaurant was nice, Eddie not being able to resist ordering spaghetti, settling for the Bolognese and thinking about Richie the entire time. He kept catching himself smiling into his pasta whenever he thought about the night he had in store.

It was around 7:45pm when they arrived back at the hotel, and Eddie only had about 45 minutes until he had to leave. Quickly washing his face and armpits and brushing his teeth, he managed to mentally prepare what outfit he wanted to go with. He ended up with some high-waisted washed-out denim jeans and a light copper-colored t-shirt with a little chest pocket. Something simple that wasn’t trying too hard, but still cute enough to look good. A simple styling of his hair and he was out the hotel door, ten minutes early.

His Ma didn’t even look at him when he passed her bed on his way out, but he didn’t care, only putting on his white denim jacket and converse. “Don’t wait up”, he mumbled before closing the door.

It was getting chillier outside, and he was happy he chose jeans instead of shorts, knowing it’d get colder as the night progressed. Taking his time walking, knowing he was early, he appreciated the sight of the city. The sun had set only a little while ago, and the sky was still a pretty turquoise where it had gone down.

Turning the final corner, he could see the spot they were supposed to be meeting in the short distance, and he quickly noticed Richie already standing there. Eddie looked down on his watch. 8:52pm.

Richie was rocking back and forth on his heels, seeming to fix the way his jean jacket was looking and pulling up his pants and adjusting his belt, and Eddie could feel excitement build in his stomach at the sight.

Then Richie looked up, finally noticing Eddie getting closer and he waved, and soon the two of them were in front of each other, shy smiles on their faces.

“Hi.”

Another silence followed, neither of them knowing how to continue. Richie gestured with his hand. “Shall we?”

“We shall”, Eddie agreed, and the two of them started walking, Richie leading the way.

They chattered a little along the way, Richie asking about what music Eddie liked (“80’s pop divas and Ariana Grande”, he’d replied honestly, refusing to be ashamed of himself even though he knew that most likely Richie didn’t listen to any of that stuff. “What about you?” “Oh, I prefer rock and hip hop mostly, a little indie sometimes and like you, I really love stuff from the 80’s, just maybe not the same artists”, he winked.), and telling him about the band he played in.

Richie talked about how it was his dream to make it with his band, but was also content with the idea of just having it as a hobby if they weren’t able to. Even though Eddie asked, Richie didn’t want to reveal too much of what kind of music they played (“you’ll just have to wait and see, Spaghetti”), but Eddie learned that Richie played guitar as well as being the lead singer.

When they finally got to the pub, there were several people waiting in line to get in.

“They don’t open the pub until 10pm, but because I’m in the band, we can get in early”, Richie whispered into his ear, and after a quick text, the doorman opened the entrance. He narrowed his eyes at Eddie, but Richie only smiled and said: “he’s with me” and the two of them were let in after a quick ID-check.

It was weird seeing a pub so empty, only a couple handfuls of people sitting around, most of them looking like employees.

“I’ll buy you a drink, what do you want?” Richie asked.

“You don’t need to do that.”

“Oh, sure I do!” he waved his hand in dismissal. “I invited you here, and besides, I get a discount because I’m playing tonight.

“Oh, sure then, I guess.” Eddie smiled. “Just a beer is fine.”

“Comin’ right up”, and he was off, leaving Eddie standing there alone.

Eddie wiped his clammy hands on his jean-clad thighs uncomfortably, not knowing what to do. There were three people sitting in a booth by the window, not looking like they worked there. Probably Richie’s band, Eddie thought.

They were looking at him curiously, but when they noticed he’d caught them staring, they quickly looked away, resuming their conversation. He walked over to where Richie was standing by the bar, seeing the newly poured beer being handed to him by the bartender.

“Thanks, man”, Richie said before turning to see Eddie standing right next to him. “Here ya go.”

“Thanks”, Eddie said, grabbing the beer, their hands brushing again. Richie kept his fingers on Eddie’s for a second longer this time, stroking his index finger with his thumb softly before pulling away. The tiny touch made electricity course through Eddie’s veins, from the tips of his fingers and down to his toes. Even in the darkness, he could see the way Richie’s cheeks turned a pretty pink color, and feeling the heat in his own cheeks, Eddie knew his face looked the same.

Richie then introduced Eddie to his bandmates, the three from the booth. There was Stan, a dirty-blonde haired man in a black turtleneck with good cheekbones; he played guitar. There was Bill on bass: a tall man with red hair and an attractive authority. And then there was Mike on drums: a handsome dark-skinned man with the kindest smile Eddie had ever laid eyes on. They all shook his hand politely, Mike apologizing for their staring earlier.

“Just Richie who’s been talking about you non-stop all day”, Stan laughed, teasing Richie by elbowing him in his side.

The three of them laughed at Richie’s expense, and Eddie couldn’t help the happy smile forming on his lips at their words, trying to hide it by looking down at the table. Richie just flipped him off even though the blush on his cheeks was undeniable.

“Alright guys, way to embarrass me”, he groaned. He was sitting next to Eddie in the booth, their thighs pressed together. Eddie felt something like bravery edging him on, and he let his hand drift over to Richie’s leg, laying his hand gently just above his knee.

Seeing Richie’s head snap towards him immediately in his peripheral vision and feeling his gaze burn into the side of his face, he slowly looked over shyly. “This okay?” he whispered so only Richie could hear.

“Uh, yeah.” Richie was staring at him so intensely, bright eyes seeming to study Eddie’s face. But then he looked away, and soon after Eddie could feel the gentle touch of Richie’s hand land on top of his.

Putting his elbow on the table, Eddie leaned his chin in his hand, covering his mouth with the palm to hide his wide smile.

First 10pm rolled by, the pub quickly filling up with people, and then it was 10:15 and the band had to go backstage to start their pre-concert routine. Eddie ended up standing by the bar, a nice view of the stage even through the mass of people in front on him.

Soon it was 10:30pm, and the band was exiting the back and stepping onto the stage, all of them turning on their amps and making sure everything was working the way it was supposed to. And then they were breaking out into their first song.

It started just with a groovy guitar riff from Stan and a drum beat. But soon it picked up, Richie playing a simply lead on his guitar and the bass joining in. Eddie wanted to dance already.

Richie stepped up to the microphone and started singing, the others joining in on backup vocals. His voice wasn’t the absolute best, but it worked well with the vibe of the song, the lyrics simple, but melody catchy, and Eddie found himself bop his head to the beat.

“I only see you when you’re walking”, Richie sang. “Walking to somewhere. You’re so restless.” Bill and Stan replying with an “aha, aha”.

“It must be special there”, he finished the chorus, gaze locked on Eddie as he backed away from the mic for an instrumental break. Moving with the music, he smiled widely, and he looked truly happy. There was no doubt about it that Richie belonged on that stage.

The crowd was dancing, some just nodding their head, while others were swaying back and forth. The entire atmosphere was magical, and it was obvious they had some actual fans in the front row, singing along and cheering louder than the rest of the audience. The sight made Eddie smile, feeling his shoulders relax, and he let out a content sigh.

Richie had bought him another beer before they’d left for backstage, but Eddie had already finished it, and he quickly waved down the bartender for another.

Their set lasted for another half hour (one song especially with a reggae vibe and lyrics that had made Eddie laugh was carved into his memory) when Richie announced they were playing their last song for the night. With cheeks starting to hurt (he hadn’t been able to stop smiling the entire time, feeling a happiness he hadn’t experienced in a while), he started cheering himself.

Their last song started with just Richie’s vocals.

“I wanna do something!” he yelled.

“What d’ya wanna do?” the others followed.

“Dance!” he finished before jumping into the first verse, and then the entire crowd was doing just that, even more than before. With time passing and intoxication rising, it seemed the people were less scared to dance.

As the chorus started, the hook going ‘I’m touching you, you’re touching me, I’m touching you, you’re touching me’, Eddie couldn’t help but start bouncing on his feet, the lyrics so easy that he found himself singing along.

As the band finished, the crowd was cheering loudly, and the four of them were happily standing on the stage proudly, accepting the applause. “Thank you all!” Richie yelled, and then they started packing up their gear and disappeared backstage, Richie winking at Eddie as he passed him.

Eddie stood standing by the bar, waiting and contently sipping at his beer. Feeling the warmth of the alcohol spreading through his body, he felt comfortable standing alone for a while. Not like before.

Soon he saw a body move next to his own and leaning against the bar. “Hello there.”

“Hi!” Eddie turned, hands moving wildly, energy taking over him after the show. “That was amazing! Those songs were so fun and catchy, wow, uhm, I had such a great time watching.”

Richie was grinning. “Oh, you sure know how to make a gal blush”, he said in a weird southern accent.

Eddie shook his head in amusement.

“No, but seriously, thank you.” Richie was leaning in closer, eyes boring into him.

“Can I buy you a beer?” Eddie asked. “After the amazing show you just pulled off, it’s well deserved.”

“Sure”, he kept his eyes on Eddie even as he ordered and paid, something special in the look on his face, head tilted back, his gaze powerful and the ghost of a smirk to be seen on his lips, which Eddie just noticed were invitingly plump and soft looking.

Something was bubbling in Eddie’s stomach, and he was pretty certain it wasn’t from the alcohol. Looking around he noticed there were no places available to sit, so the two of them ended up standing there for the next hour or so, drinking and chatting. When Richie heard what hotel Eddie was staying at, he excitedly told how he didn’t live too far from there. He shared an apartment with Stan, and they’d lived there together since they left high school two years ago. Something about the fact that his hotel was close to Richie’s home made a spark form in Eddie’s chest, heart picking up the slightest of speed.

They were moving closer to each other by the second, Richie’s hand landing on Eddie’s waist at some point.

After a while, Richie looked over Eddie’s shoulder quickly before looking back at Eddie. “Wanna dance?”

Eddie turned around to check out the dancing crowd, the perfect amount on it, not so few that it was awkward, but not so many that dancing was impossible with the lack of space. So he nodded, a little breathless. “Yeah.”

And high on the tension between them and drunk from the alcohol they’d had, the two of them were dancing close, Eddie’s arms around Richie’s neck and Richie’s hands on Eddie’s hips. Even though Eddie wasn’t the best dancer in the world, he was still comfortable, knowing he still had rhythm in his body. And Richie was following his lead, his body flushed against Eddie’s. They were pressing close, Richie’s breath hot against Eddie’s ear.

It was intoxicating having him so close, feeling Richie’s cheek press against his temple, his stubble scratching gently at Eddie’s skin. With their bodies touching everywhere and the heat from the rest of the dancing crowd, they were both sweating, air thick between them. Something bubbled deep inside Eddie’s stomach when he felt Richie’s fingers push underneath his sweater and onto bare skin, and he let out a shaky breath.

“Do you want to come back to my place after?” Richie whispered, voice rough.

Eddie wasn’t surprised by the question, knowing what the night had been leading up to all along. But still he hesitated. Of course he wanted to have sex with Richie, but he was also scared for it to become a one-time type of thing and that they’d never see each other again.

And even though Eddie wasn’t completely inexperienced, there was also the fact that Eddie hadn’t ever fully fucked anybody before, and he was sure as hell not giving up his virginity to a one-night stand.

“Uhm”, he started, unsure of how to form his sentences. He didn’t want it to come out too rudely, desperately wanting Richie to understand that Eddie wanted to, but just not on their first day of knowing each other.

“Maybe not tonight?” he whispered carefully, trying intentionally to hint at them meeting again and pulling his head back so he could look at Richie properly. Something about the look in Richie’s eyes was intoxicating, hypnotic, and Eddie could feel himself getting entirely entranced by this gorgeous man in front of him.

Eddie didn’t know what to expect as a reaction, afraid of something angry, or maybe an indifferent ‘whatever’. Worst of all, he was afraid of Richie leaving and ending up going home with someone else. But instead, Richie’s intense stare only softened, a sincere smile on his face. “Alright.”

But he didn’t move away, only continued dancing, the air a little less affected by the sexual heat between them now, but still pleasant.

“Maybe I can see you again tomorrow? Show you around the city during the day or something?”

Eddie smiled, grateful. “Yeah, I’d love that.”

“It’s a date.”

Richie ended up following Eddie back to the hotel. After another half hour of dancing, they had ended up in an empty booth. At around 2:30am they’d said goodbye to Richie’s bandmates, and soon after they were stepping out into the cold Los Angeles night.

Holding hands as they walked down the street, they continued their conversation about their current life-situations that they’d had back in the booth. When Richie found out Eddie lived back in Maine, he’d pouted massively, making Eddie giggle.

“I never asked you, how long are you staying for?” Richie asked when they were outside the hotel.

“We leave on Wednesday”, Eddie replied. Their Saturday had just finished three hours ago, and Eddie realized with a crushing devastation that at some point he’d have to leave LA and most likely wouldn’t ever see Richie again.

“Shit”, Richie sulked, dragging a hand through his messy hair.

“Yeah”, Eddie agreed quietly. “Shit.”

“Well, let’s not think about that just yet!” Richie perked up slightly, replacing his frown with a smile. “That’s still, what, four more days?”

“It is”, Eddie laughed.

“Well, that’s four days for us to spend together, and I have the day off tomorrow. I’m already mentally planning all the places I wanna show you!”

Letting go of his disappointment from earlier, Eddie stared up at Richie with a soft gaze, feeling happiness blossom at the knowledge that Richie wanted to spend the next days together with him. “I can’t wait.”

“Me neither.”

They stood looking at each other for a few moments, neither saying anything. But then Richie placed his hand on Eddie’s cheek, and he was leaning down slowly, checking if Eddie was going to pull away as he moved closer. Eddie pushed up on his toes, closing the gap between them, and then they were kissing.

It started gentle, Richie’s bottom lip between Eddie’s. His lips were soft, and their kisses were tender and meaningful, nothing like Eddie had ever felt before.

Richie’s fingers were caressing Eddie’s temple, a gentle touch, his other hand placed on Eddie’s waist and pulling him closer as the kiss got deeper. The tip of Richie’s tongue was poking at Eddie’s lips, and soon they were making out, tongues meeting desperately with every opening of their mouths. Putting his hands on the collar of Richie’s jacket, he tried to pull him even closer, but it was close to impossible at that point, and he opted with pushing his fingers between Richie’s dark locks instead.

As it started getting heated, spit making the kiss slippery, Eddie was starting to reconsider going home with Richie in his mind. His dick twitched in interest when Richie hooked his thumb into the top of Eddie’s pants, the bare skin of his hip being set on fire by Richie’s touch.

But he knew it would be a bad idea (they had all the time in the world (actually only four days, he had to remind himself)) and with that thought he pulled away just enough for their mouths to part before it got too far and he wouldn’t be able to help himself anymore.

“I had a great night”, he whispered, scared that if he spoke too loud it would break the magic they’d created between the two of them.

“Me too”, Richie rubbed his nose against Eddie’s gently. “And now I can’t wait to see you again tomorrow.”

Eddie sighed happily. “Me neither.”

“Drink some water before you go to sleep, alright?”

Eddie huffed out a laugh at that.

“No, I’m serious”, Richie insisted. “You drank a lot tonight, and you’ll feel better if you drink some water before bed.”

Eddie shook his head delightedly, their noses bumping together with the movement. “Alright, I will.”

“Good.”

They parted with a gentle peck on the lips and an exchange of phone numbers, Eddie watching Richie walk away.

A little while later, when Eddie had just gotten under the covers after sneaking in and chugging a glass of water, his phone dinged. He reached for where he’d put it on the floor, quickly turning off the sound in case it was to ding again and wake his Ma.

3:12am From Richie pick u up at 11 tmrw ! xxxxx

3:12am To Richie Looking forward to it! X

3:12am From Richie only 1 kiss? :(

3:12am To Richie You can have all the kisses you want tomorrow xxx

3:13am From Richie cant wait !! n dont bother with breakfast, ive planned a place to eat! :D xx

3:13am To Richie sounds great! xx

3:14am From Richie night my darlin <3 xxxxxxx

He blushed at the pet name, imagining how it would sound if Richie was to call him that in real life.

3:14am To Richie Goodnight Richie, sweet dreams <3 xxxxxxxxxxxx

Quietly giggling to himself, he sent that last message.

3:14am From Richie <3 <3 <3

Eddie fell asleep with a smile.

Taglist: @annoyingtozier, @spastuetheobsessedphylosopher, @constantreaderfool

#lynn writes #my writing #reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #meet-cute #summer romance au #band au #kinda?#reddie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #it 2017 #it #it fanfic #it fanfiction #i'll be your light

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