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spacesquidlings · 5 months

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Enchantment In The Snow

Description: Gavin springs a sudden surprise on Rowan for her Christmas gift, spiriting her away for a vacation in a cozy cabin in the woods. They spend their days exploring a private winder wonderland, and they spend the frigid nights tangled in each other's arms

Pairing: Gavin Bai x MC / OC (Rowan)

Warnings: Some mild suggestive content

A/N: Hello!!! I was going through some drafts and I found this buried in one of my Gavin docs!!!! It's so cute and I remember having so much fun when I was writing this fic. I know Gavin is supposed to be very scary and intense and commanding, but I think he would be SUCH a sweetie and really go out of his way for his partner, especially trying to make some sweet memories together during the holidays because he is just a huge dork!!!! Special shout out to my friend @otherlandshark who gave me the first seeds for this fic and who is just always the best <3 To anyone reading this, I hope you love this fic as much as I do, and I hope you have a happy holidays <3

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“Can I take the blindfold off yet?”

“No, pumpkin, just wait a little longer.”

Rowan had woken that morning to Gavin pressing kisses to her face, gently coaxing her from her dreams and back into the real world. He’d murmured that they’d had to get up, he had a surprise for her. She’d been too tired to really question it, doing little more than groaning when he heaved her from the bed, helping her to get changed and making the bed before carrying her downstairs.

Rowan should have been suspicious, but she’d been too tired, content to be snuggled into his arms when he’d held her in his lap while they’d eaten breakfast.

It had still been dark when he’d woken her up, not even the watery light of dawn breaking through the midnight sky.

“It’s just very early,” he’d whispered when she’d tried mentioning it between bites of egg. “Your surprise is somewhere we have to drive to, and we need to get a headstart.”

Now that should have made her even more suspicious, but Gavin had always been particularly skilled at distracting her, and her sleep-addled mind had been quickly redirected when he’d kissed her again.

He’d even gone so far as to bundle her into the car, tucking blankets around her as their breath fogged in front of them, the freezing air biting at the exposed skin of their faces.

“Just a moment,” he had promised, vanishing back into the house before dragging out two suitcases and a few packages and depositing them into the trunk.

She had been half asleep again as he’d slid into the drivers seat, snuggling one of her favourite plushies into her arm before buckling himself in.

“You can sleep now, pumpkin,” he had promised, squeezing her hand. “It’s a bit of a drive.”

He hadn’t elaborated, and Rowan hadn’t asked, falling asleep once the car had merged onto the highway.

She’d awoken an hour later, the car stopped while Gavin had gotten gas.

He’d smiled when he’d seen her eyes open, waving from outside the car. She’d wiggled her hands out from beneath the blankets to wave back, offering a small smile.

He’d poked his head into the car when he was done, a blast of cold, wintery wind following in his wake.

“I was going to get some snacks, did you want anything?”

She had in fact given him a laundry list of snacks she’d wanted, and he’d been laughing as he’d closed the door, heading for the little convenience store connected to the gas station.

He’d emerged a few minutes later with nearly everything she had requested, asking if he could have a kiss in compensation for how much he’d spent.

She’d given him many kisses, although she’d nearly melted into her blankets when a car had honked at them to move out of the way.

After that she’d been mostly awake, chatting with Gavin and listening to the playlists she’d started putting together as they’d drove.

She’d tried asking him where they were going, but he’d kept mostly silent, redirecting the conversation, or taking her hand and scraping his teeth against her skin until she’d dropped her questioning, too flustered to continue.

It had come as a bit of a shock when Gavin had requested she put on a blindfold. At first she’d balked, still a little disoriented from their early morning departure. But he had insisted, promising that it would make the surprise seem a little more magical.

So Rowan had allowed him to wrap a blindfold around her eyes after pulling over to the side of the highway, mountains and green forests cloaked in snow rising on either side of them. She had felt beyond disoriented, the car moving, but her unable to see even a little bit.

But Gavin had reached out periodically to squeeze her hand, rooting her to the present, promising that she was safe.

Now she sat, still squeezing Gavin’s hand as she felt the car slowing. She could tell they had driven from the highway, turning down a much slower road now. She wanted to pull the blindfold from her face, or at least peek out from beneath the cloth to see where they were. But she didn’t want to make Gavin sad, even as her curiosity exploded like a wildfire threatening to turn her to ash.

“How about now?”

Another laugh. “Just another minute, love. We’re almost there.”

“But I want to see!”

“You’ll see soon enough!”

She slumped in her seat, pouting.

“Aw, don’t be like that, pumpkin.”

“I can’t even see!”

She heard him sigh, imagined the way his shoulders slumped when he did. Her heart stumbled a bit, the silly expression of resignation he usually wore when he sighed so deeply popping into her mind.

She wanted to kiss his cheeks and run her fingers through her hair as she teased him, wanted to make his face turn the beautiful pink of a sunset sky.

But she could not, and that made her pout more.

She turned towards the window, although she could not see out of it, and again Gavin chuckled, reaching for her hand and drawing it up, his lips brushing against her knuckles.

“Just a little longer.”

True to his word, they did only drive for a little bit longer. She felt them slowing as the car turned right, the engine grumbling as she felt the front of the car tip up, like they were driving uphill. The road turned bumpier, and she imagined a dirt road or a little forest path, rather than a fully paved mountain road.

Finally, after turning around and around on curving roads for an eternity, Rowan felt the car pull to a stop. Gavin’s hands found their way to her face, undoing the blindfold with such gentleness it was like he thought she was porcelain.

The blindfold fell away and Rowan blinked, greeted with golden, late morning sunlight.

The first thing she saw was the little cottage, a beautiful little house with an enclosed porch. The house was adorable, but it was not the main attraction, and Rowan’s eyes quickly slipped past it, towards the view just beyond.

She couldn’t make it out perfectly, but she could see the glittering expanse of a frozen lake stretching out from beyond the cottage, the morning light making it shine like it was made of diamonds and pale sapphires.

On either side of them there was forest, deep green and awash in ivory snow, untouched but for the little footprints of small animals passing by.

It looked like a painting, the light hitting the lake just right to make it glow, the deep muted colours of the forest in contrast to the pallid blues and whites of the rest of the world.

The air smelled crisp, fresh, heavy with the almost-sweet smell of pine needles and sap. Although each breath stung her nose and pierced her lungs, she could not seem to breathe deep enough as she took it all in. There was only the trees, and the slight tang in the air from the lake, and the packed snow beneath her feet.

Gavin stepped up beside her, wrapping an arm around her waist, enveloping her in his warmth.

Now the air was tinged with a little of Gavin, too, the spices in his soap staining the crisp air.

“What do you think?” He asked, leaning his head against hers. “Worth the blindfold for ten minutes?”

“It was way more than ten minutes,” she said, snorting. But she leaned against him too, wishing she could be closer.

“The GPS said it was only ten minutes.”

“Well it felt like ten years.”

He chuckled, guiding her forward towards the door. “Why don’t we go inside and take a look? It’s been a busy morning so you can relax now.”

Gavin pulled a key from his pocket, unlocking the door to the cottage, flicking on a light on the side of the wall before ushering her in.

Inside was just as cozy as she imagined a sweet little cottage like this would be. There was plush carpeting a few feet away, the uncovered ground hardwood that creaked beneath their feet. A hallway led off to her left, and she was pretty sure she saw a sliver of what was likely the kitchen. There was only a wall to her right, although directly in front of her the rest of the cottage expanded into a cozy living room and TV room, the entire back wall made of glass so you could peer out over the great expanse of the lake.

There was a ladder pushed against the wall far ahead, and if she tilted her head up she could see it led to a loft, where she imagined the bedroom was. There was another door just next to the ladder, and Rowan figured that was the bathroom, or led to somewhere else in the cottage.

“Come on,” Gavin murmured, taking her hand and guiding her deeper into the cottage.

There was a fireplace nestled across from a few plush couches arranged in the living room, and after helping her with her coat and shoes, Gavin settled Rowan onto the cushions, tucking blankets around her before turning towards the fireplace.

“You know I can do some things myself,” she said, the blankets pooling around her as she leaned forward.

“I know,” Gavin said, turning to look at her over his shoulder. “But I wanted to make sure you were comfortable.”

“What about you?”

Fire bloomed in the fireplace and Gavin stood, the firelight lining him in gold, like a figure in a painting.

“I’ll be comfortable in just a minute. I want to bring everything in first.”

She didn’t have a chance to stop him as he crossed the room, pausing long enough to press a long, slow kiss that melted her thoughts away.

When he pulled away, heading back to the car to get their things, all Rowan could think about was how she wanted him to come back, to kiss her longer, to hold her in his arms.

He was fast, though, bringing in their suitcases and then the other packages he’d brought along, setting them to the side as he pulled off his boots and shrugged off his coat.

“What are those?” Rowan asked, pointing to the packages.

Gavin grinned, his eyes bright as liquid sunshine. “They’re your Christmas presents.”

She blinked. “You mean coming here wasn’t it?”

He shrugged, stacking the presents into his arms and carrying them to the other side of the room, arranging them near the massive floor-to-ceiling window. “It’s part of your gift, but I wanted to get you some other things, too.”

She pouted, pulling the blanket up around her head. “But I didn’t think to bring your presents.”

He laughed. “That’s okay. I wanted this to be for you.”

“But what about you?!” She whined.

Gavin settled on the couch beside her, drawing her into his lap. “All I want is to see you happy. And,” he kissed her nose. “Spend some time just the two of us.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

She leaned her head against his shoulder, trying to rearrange the blankets so they would cover him too. “Well, what did you want to do right now?”

He hummed, fingers tangling in her hair. “Right now, I think I want to take a nap. Would that be okay?”

She nodded, beaming. “That would be the best.”

Gavin kissed her brow, smiling. “I’m glad.”

***

Gavin had driven them up to the cottage a week and a half before Christmas, and after they had napped most of the afternoon away, and then gotten up to make something to eat, he let her know that he’d rented it out for two full weeks.

Two weeks with just her and her Gavin, two weeks to spend together for the holidays, far away from the busy-ness of the city and from the demands of his job.

She smiled as they sat at the little table, warm food steaming in the air. Two weeks to do whatever they wanted to do together. She wondered if the lake was safe to skate on, if the ice was thick enough. Or if the forest was safe for hiking, if the snow wasn’t too high for them to walk.

“What are you thinking about?” Gavin asked, nudging her with his foot.

“Just how nice of a surprise this was,” she said, nudging him back.

He laughed, eyes closed for the briefest of moments. She leaned forward, snatching up one of the strawberries on his plate, biting down on it before he could stop her.

“Did you just steal my food?” he asked, reaching across the table.

Rowan smacked his hand, pulling her plate out of reach. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I can see half the strawberry on your plate,” he said, pointing to the offending piece of fruit.

Rowan popped it into her mouth before he could say anything else, grinning as he gaped at her.

“I’ll get you back for that later,” he said, mischief in his eyes. They danced with the sunlight pouring in from the massive windows, shining like gold.

Rowan gestured to the windows, to the lake beyond it as she curled herself around her plate, narrowly dodging another attempt from Gavin to steal her food. “Do you think we can skate on the lake?”

He shrugged, folding his forearms on the table and leaning forward. “I hope so. The website I made the reservation on said the ice is normally thick enough to skate, and I brought our skates just in case.” He tipped his head to the side, watching a squirrel scamper across the porch on the other side of the window. “But we should be careful just in case.”

Rowan wiggled in her seat, imagining what it would be like to skate out across the glittering ice of the lake, beneath that clear, golden sunshine that seemed to make everything glow.

“We can also do some hiking, if you’d like,” Gavin continued, setting his fork down on his plate. “There are some trails nearby that we can take.”

She narrowed her eyes at that, remembering the last time Gavin had taken them hiking.

It had been an exhausting affair for Rowan, although not for Gavin who, although he had certainly broken out in a sweat on the steep, winding path that hugged the side of a mountain, had been all smiles and energy the entire day. She, on the other hand, had become a bedraggled mess almost instantly, hair glued to her face, arms scratched by rocks and branches, face burnt lobster red.

“Is it going to be like last time?” She asked, eying him warily.

Gavin smiled, all sweet innocence. “I looked up the trails online in advance and it looks like they are very beginner friendly.”

“Not like the last one?”

He shook his head. “Not like the last one.”

Rowan set her plate on the table, heaving a sigh of relief. “Well that’s good to hear, at least.”

“And,” Gavin continued, getting up and rounding the table to be closer to Rowan. “There are some other things we can do, too.”

She covered her plate with her body, sensing an incoming attack. “Like what?”

Gavin leaned down, hands hovering dangerously close to Rowan. She narrowed her eyes, wondering whether he was going to try and tickle her.

It was absolutely something he would do, a fitting punishment for the misdeed of stealing one singular strawberry from his plate.

“Like,” he said, his voice dropping dangerously low as his lips grazed the shell of her ear.

She shivered, realizing he might be thinking of other activities they could do together. She felt a tightening in her belly as she felt his teeth against her skin, as his breathing turned heavy.

“Like?” She pressed, her voice squeaking.

He hummed, the sound making her clench her legs together on instinct. “Maybe I shouldn’t say. It can be a surprise.”

She felt like she was made of jelly, no strength in her body as another shiver raced down her spine. Surely she would melt into a puddle at any moment.

“I thought you were all done with your surprises,” she said, voice crackling like kindling.

She would have cursed herself had Gavin’s hands not slid around her, beneath her, lifting her from her chair without so much as a grunt.

“Babey,” she said, voice shaky. “What are you doing?”

He grinned, teeth scraping against her ear. “It’s a surprise.”

***

They spent the first day tangled together, warm as the world outside the cottage was gripped in winter’s frigid hold.

The blankets on the bed were heavy and soft, and Rowan couldn’t find an excuse to crawl from the nest of blankets and pillows if she didn’t have to. They stayed there until dinner, and then returned after they had eaten, content to spend their time together.

She woke the next morning with a dull ache between her legs and in her lower back, Gavin’s arms still wrapped around her waist. She felt his breath against her shoulder, the even rise and fall of his chest against her back, the slight rumble of his snore in her ear.

She smiled, yawning, eyes still heavy with sleep. Perhaps she would go back to sleep, nestled in his arms until the sun had well and truly risen. The bedroom was graced with a floor-to-ceiling window much like the main floor, and she imagined the entire room would turn gold with the late morning sun. It would surely be something to behold, especially if it meant Gavin’s abs would also be painted in gold.

She stretched her arms out, reaching for her phone, propped on the nightstand next to the bed. Maybe she would check if she had any messages, or maybe she would read a chapter or two of a comic she’d just started.

But she had no sooner turned her phone on and flicked to the app she wanted that one of Gavin’s hands yanked her phone from her hand and tossed it across the room.

She gaped as her phone landed squarely on the chair in the corner of the room that was piled with clothes she had only half-unpacked the day before.

She twisted in his arms, prepared to chastise him, but was met with a sleepy glare. His eyes were lidded, little more than the amber of his eyes visible, seeming to glow in the hazy light of the dawn.

She blinked, momentarily stunned as he sighed, the arm still wrapped around her pulling her closer. He gripped her chin between the forefinger and thumb of his other hand, watching her with those golden eyes.

“What was that for?” She asked, recovering her senses as she poked her finger against his bare chest. “I was about to read something!”

A frown tugged at his mouth, and his lips parted, just barely, before he was pressing them against hers.

Her eyes flew wide from the shock, his tongue sweeping into her mouth for a moment before he drew her bottom lip between his teeth.

She gasped, hands pressing against his chest, fingers curling as he tilted his head to the side, groaning as he kissed her harder. Harder. His whole body pressing against her.

The hand holding her chin slipped down her back, squeezing her ass before hooking around her thigh and drawing it around his waist.

Gavin broke the kiss, moaning as he traced his lips over the curve of her jaw, teeth scraping against her skin.

“I don’t want you to focus on anything else,” he murmured, hand squeezing her thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh. “Only me.”

“You were asleep,” she said, gasping for breath, struggling to find her words.

“Well I’m not anymore.”

“What do you want me to do, then?” She asked, biting her bottom lip as the hand at her thigh slipped between her legs.

He rolled her onto her back, lowering his mouth to her throat. “Focus on me.”

***

Rowan had been right, Gavin had looked spectacular in the light of the late afternoon sunshine.

The entire room had been awash in gold, and it had lined Gavin’s form, the gold sinking into the lines of his muscles so he seemed to glow as he moved. Sweat beading on his forehead and chest glittered as it had caught the light, and Rowan had been unable to look away from him, her attention fixed wholly on him. Like he was a work of art in a museum, like he was a god come down to earth.

Everything else had faded away in his wake, only his eyes and mouth and hands and legs.

She had practically melted into the sheets, panting as Gavin had laid down next to her.

He’d traced his index finger around her navel, up the side of her torso, around the swell of her breasts.

She’d smacked his hand away, although it had been a half-hearted attempt, and Gavin had simply taken her hand in his, fingers tangling together.

“Don’t be like that, pumpkin,” he’d murmured, lips against the side of her throat, his words tickling her skin.

She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to muster up her words. “Like what?”

He chuckled, and for a moment she was furious that he seemed to have so much energy still, while she was so spent she doubted she could move even an inch.

He kissed her throat, moving his lips lower over her collar, her breasts.

“I’m just admiring,” he teased, pinching her side.

It took all of her strength to roll over, and she squeaked at how her body ached when she moved.

“Don’t hide,” he said, laughter still heavy in his voice. “I wasn’t done.”

She pouted, pulling the blankets over her even as her core grew tight. “You’re teasing me.”

He laughed. “No, I’m not.”

She huffed, pulling the blankets over her head, curling into a ball as he tried peeling them away from her.

“Come back!” He whined, tugging helplessly at the blankets. “I miss my wife.”

She wrinkled her nose, biting back her smile. “No, I think I’ll stay right here.”

“Are you mad I threw your phone?”

She was definitely annoyed, especially considering she’d been so excited to read that comic.

“Maybe.”

“You can’t blame me, I wanted your attention on me!”

“You were asleep!”

“You should have woken me up!”

She laughed, her grip loosening on the blankets. Gavin took the opportunity to tear them away, arms wrapping around her and tickling her sides.

“But you woke up without me!” She gasped between laughter. “I didn’t have to!”

“I knew you weren’t focused on me!”

“I just wanted to read!”

They continued like that for a while, Rowan struggling to squirm from Gavin’s arms as he teased her, unable to escape with only scraps of her strength remaining. Eventually he did let her go, gently lowering her back against the pillows, a wide, goofy grin on his face.

“Do you want some breakfast?” He asked, stroking her side.

Rowan struggled to catch her breath, her chest rising and falling like ocean waves. Some part of her knew that she was certainly hungry, but her fatigue was winning, and all she could think about was how heavy her body felt.

“Maybe.”

Gavin arched a brow. “Maybe?”

She shrugged, eyes falling closed. “I might be hungry.”

He snorted, pinching her side so she would look at him again. “No falling asleep, not yet.”

She pouted at that, wishing she had the strength to cross her arms over her chest, wishing they didn’t feel like they weighed a hundred pounds each. “And why not?”

He cupped her cheek, smiling softly. “We need to get you cleaned up, and you need something to eat.”

“You know you were singing a very different tune an hour ago.”

He nuzzled his nose against her cheek. “Well I think you should eat now. To get your energy back.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Energy for what?”

His grin turned sheepish as he pulled away. Colour blossomed across his cheeks and the tips of his ears, and he scratched at the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Babey?”

He stretched his arms above his head, standing from the bed, and for a moment Rowan forgot what she had been asking. She couldn’t help it as the blankets fell away from him, his body on display.

She didn’t know how many times she had seen him like this, and yet she doubted she would ever tire of it.

He tapped her cheek, drawing her attention to his face. “My eyes are up here, pumpkin.”

Now it was Rowan’s turn to blush, and she looked away, staring at a speck on the wall as hard as she could, as if it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Gavin only laughed, the sound like music as he scooped her from the bed.

“Let’s get you cleaned up, and then I’ll tell you.”

***

Fingers still wrinkled, skin still flushed from the heat of the water in the bath Gavin had drawn for her, Rowan sat huddled on the floor, lego instruction manual laid out before her as Gavin bustled around the kitchen.

“Are you sure you don’t want any help?” She asked, pulling the blanket tighter around herself, drawing her knees up to her chest.

“I want you to relax,” he called, although his response was immediately followed by the sound of pots and pans crashing together.

“What are you making in there?” She shouted, struggling to pull herself to her feet.

She really ached, her body stiff as she tried to move it.

Gavin poked his head out of the kitchen as if he sensed her moving, glaring when he saw her standing. “Sit down. Let me make you some tea.”

She pouted. “I’m not a porcelain doll.”

“You can barely walk.”

She wrinkled her nose. “And whose fault is that?”

His smile was nothing short of pure smugness as he made his way towards her. “You need to sit, Rowan.”

She felt a little like a petulant child, the urge to stomp her feet nearly overtaking her. She wanted to help, especially since it sounded like a disaster about to happen in the kitchen.

Not that Gavin would let her, not as he gently settled her on the couch, wrapping her in so many blankets she could hardly move.

“I can’t even start on the lego set,” she groused, frowning at his sunny grin.

“That’s okay,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her brow. “We can start it together once I’m done.”

She sighed, wriggling herself out of her blanket prison. “Can I at least have my phone back? You left it upstairs in the room.”

He kissed the tip of her nose, murmuring softly. “As you wish.”

A few moments later, and he was setting her phone on her lap. “For you, my love.”

She rolled her eyes, pinching his side as he walked by. “Can I have some tea, too?”

“Anything for you, my love.”

She rolled her eyes again, although she could feel the blush that was creeping across her face.

Gavin returned a few minutes later, steaming mug in hand, settling it in Rowan’s hands in exchange for a long, slow kiss.

“I think you need to retract your earlier statement,” she said, blinking as the headiness of Gavin’s touch threatened to send her into a daze.

Gavin blinked, his brow wrinkling. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll do anything for me, as long as you get a kiss out of it,” she smirked, peering up at him from the rim of her mug.

He snorted, pinching her cheek. “You don’t want to kiss me?”

She eyed the red marks and bruises already blooming along his throat, could imagine ones on his shoulders and chest doing the same. “I wouldn’t say that.”

“Maybe,” he murmured, voice a dangerous whisper as he leaned down. “I just can’t help myself around you.”

Rowan would have smacked him had it not been so hard to move her arms, and had he not stepped out of the way so quickly.

She tried shouting after him, but he only laughed, promising breakfast was soon, and that he would be back to help. Rowan had only glowered in response, her annoyance piqued for all of five seconds before she remembered she finally had her phone again and could go back to what she’d been wanting to read before.

Although Gavin did try the same trick when he returned with two steaming plates, setting them on the floor before trying to swipe her phone from her hands. But this time Rowan was ready for his little trick, and she quickly turned onto her side, hiding her phone between her and the back cushions of the couch.

Behind her, Gavin huffed, and she could practically hear his pout as he stroked her side helplessly, asking her to pay attention to him, please?

She couldn’t handle the way he was whining, the urge to squish his cheeks between her hands too much to bear. She tucked her phone into the pocket of her pajama pants before rolling back over, throwing her arms out and drawing Gavin against her chest.

“I love you,” she sang, scattering kisses over the top of his head. “You’re so cute, you’re so funny, I love you!”

Gavin choked, and she could imagine the shade of red his face was turning, got a glimpse of that burning crimson as she spied the tips of his ears, stained a fiery red that matched the sky at dusk. She lowered her head, grazing the shell of his ear with her teeth just as he had done that morning.

“I love you, babey,” she murmured, kissing the side of his head. “You’re so cute.”

When she finally did let him go his face was a brilliant red, the colour seeping beneath his hair as he looked away, amber eyes trained on the food sitting on the floor.

“We’d better eat,” he mumbled, scratching at the back of his neck. “Before it gets cold.”

“It’s so far away though, and it’s hard to move,” Rowan whined.

He chuckled, helping to unpeel the layers of blankets he’d wrapped her in before drawing her into his lap. “I’ll help, don’t worry.”

Once Rowan was settled with her food in her lap, Gavin switched on a movie on the television set above the fireplace. It was a Christmas film they had already seen, but they weren’t really paying much attention. The flush in Gavin’s cheeks had begun to dissipate, and their focus had turned to the lego set before them.

Gavin had brought two new sets, and he’d been sheepish as he’d presented them to her, saying that he really liked putting them together with her.

Rowan hadn’t been able to stop herself from smiling as she’d chosen the set she’d wanted to build that day, Gavin’s own face blooming with sunshine.

The truth was that she liked building them with him too, loved sitting and talking to him while something played in the background, trying to sus out which pieces went where, working together to complete the different pieces of the set before putting them together.

He always acted a little nervous, a little shy, when he asked if they could build one. It was a new interest for him, something he had done sparingly as a child, but that he’d grown more interested in as he’d gotten older. And he always seemed happy when he worked on one, when he told her about the few ones he’d put together before they’d met.

And his smile, his happiness, meant the world to her.

She always said yes when he asked, and she’d found that she loved building them with him. There was always a soft glow in his eyes, a childlike joy that made her heart trip over its own beat. That made her feel happy, too.

And she’d found building them to be relaxing, all the anxieties that chase after her day-after-day, all her worries about work and projects vanishing like smoke in the wind. It was like her mind would grow quiet, like everything was dimmed other than the pieces in front of her and her most precious person at her side.

It was no different now, picking at their food, their main focus on the set.

It wasn’t anything too complex, just a lego model of a plant. It wasn’t particularly difficult, but she loved watching as the loose pieces clicked together, slowly forming something more and more reminiscent of a true plant.

“We should get another of the bouquet ones,” Rowan said, a leaf sprouting in her hand as the pieces clicked together. “It was so pretty and then we can decorate with them.”

Gavin hummed, pulling the instruction manual towards him and flipping a few pages forward, to the project he was working on. “I’ll order another when we get back home.”

Rowan set her collection of leaves and stalks to the side, beaming at him. “Can you order another orchid too? That one was my favourite so far.”

He snorted, peeking up at her for a moment. “As you wish, pumpkin.”

She poked his side, laughing. “You’re so dorky, Gavin.”

“But you love me, right?” He asked, covering his side like it was a wound.

“I do love you,” she murmured, passing him the pieces he needed. “With every part of me.”

He pressed a little plastic flower into her palm, one he must have skipped ahead to make. “And I love you.”

***

It didn’t take them that long to complete the set, and soon enough they were leaning back on their hands, beaming in triumph as they gazed upon the finished model.

“So what kind of plant is this?” Rowan asked, peering curiously at the box.

“It’s a bird of paradise,” Gavin said, tipping his head to the side as he assessed it. “It’s a tropical plant, I think.”

Rowan hummed in assent as she looked at the box again, flipping it over to read the back. “These look really cool! Wouldn’t it be fun if we were able to get a real one?”

They were both silent as they considered her question for a moment, imagining taking care of a large, tropical plant.

It was only a few seconds before they both wilted, having had a little too much experience trying to care for fussy plants and failing miserably.

“Maybe the model is good enough,” she said, nodding to herself as she leaned back.

“And it’s more special,” Gavin added, scooting up beside her and drawing her into his lap.

“Why’s that?”

“Because we made it together,” he said, burying his face against her shoulder. “We shared it.”

She laughed, running her fingers through his hair. “You’re right, that does make it more special.”

He hummed, idly tracing a finger over her arm as they watched the ending of their movie. It was sweet, a cupcake shop owner marrying her true love and adopting an abandoned puppy. The exact kind of thing Rowan wanted from a simple Christmas film.

When it was over she leaned back, brushing Gavin’s bangs back. “What should we do now?”

He hummed, taking her hand and threading his fingers with hers. “Well what would you like to do?”

“I’m happy to do anything, as long as it’s with you.”

His voice lowered, turning to a gravelly rumble as his eyes darkened. “Anything?”

She pinched his cheek with her free hand, trying to bring him back from whatever he was thinking of. “Anything within reason.”

Gavin laughed, batting her hand away. “Well how are you feeling? Do you think you’d be up for a little hiking?”

“Maybe,” she mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “You’re sure the trails are beginner friendly?”

“Positive,” he promised, kissing her temple. “What do you say?”

She stretched her hands above her head, considering for a moment. “Promise to help me get ready? And make me something warm when we get back?”

She swept her up into his arms as he stood, so quickly the world spun around them.

“Promise.”

***

True to his word, the hiking trails were beginner friendly, although Rowan would have considered them intermediate if only because they had not been touched by a shovel in what looked like years.

The snow was so thick and piled so high on the paths that she kept stumbling, tripping and falling against Gavin when her boots sank a little too deep and got caught on a tree root she hadn’t known was there.

They’d only been walking for thirty minutes at most and Rowan was already building up a sweat, so hot beneath all her layers that she felt like she was on fire.

Gavin, for his part, seemed perfectly fine, his cheeks flushed the perfect pink, snowflakes tangled in his bangs. He walked with ease, not struggling through the banks of snow as Rowan did.

She was simultaneously burning with jealousy and in complete awe of him, of the grace he somehow managed to show as he hiked, all while Rowan was struggling to put one foot in front of the other.

“Rowan,” Gavin said, waving at her to look at where he was pointing. “Take a look.”

She crept closer, peering around him to see a small family of squirrels trading food back and forth, scampering around on a patch of ground that wasn’t covered in snow.

“Aw, they’re so cute,” she cooed, clinging to his arm.

“It’s weird that they’re out, though,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “I thought they hibernated.”

“Maybe they’re taking a Christmas vacation, just like us!”

He patted her arm, drawing her further down the path. “Maybe they are.”

Rowan laughed at the thought of a squirrel family celebrating the holidays. “What do you think they do for Christmas?”

Gavin hummed, squeezing Rowan’s gloved hand in his. “They probably share dinner together, and then play some games, and then maybe have a snowball fight.”

She giggled leaning against his arm. “Is that what you would like to do?”

He nodded. “I think that would make for a very nice day.”

Rowan let go of Gavin, letting him walk ahead a few paces before he turned back, realizing that she wasn’t following him any longer.

“Rowan, what are you-”

He didn’t get a chance to finish his question as she lobbed a snowball at him, cheering when it landed square in the middle of his chest.

Gavin blinked at her, at a loss for words as she tossed another snowball at him, giggling as snow exploded over his stomach.

“You said you wanted to do what the squirrels were doing!” She called, throwing another snowball, although he dodged it this time, and it vanished into the snowbank behind him.

His eyes slid to the little group of squirrels, frozen in place now, noses twitching as they sensed Gavin and Rowan moving around so close to them.

“And you said they were having a snowball fight!”

He stared at her for a long, long moment. Rowan wondered if the cold had finally gotten to him and frozen his thoughts, frozen his body too. But then Gavin moved faster than the blink of an eye, and Rowan was tumbling into the snow beside her as he tackled her.

She squealed, trying to shove him off. But Gavin was far stronger than she was, and she was still tired from their hike and aching from that morning and the night before. So all she could do was wriggle helplessly, hands against his chest as he laughed, squishing snow against her cheek.

“Gavin!” She gasped, trying and failing to swat his hand away. “It’s so cold!”

He laughed, brushing snow from his pants as he straightened, taking a step back.

Which was a mistake, since he let his guard down, thinking that the threat had passed.

But the threat had not passed, and as he leaned down to offer his hand to Rowan, she grabbed his arms with both hands, yanking him back into the snow.

“Got you!” She screamed, scrambling to her feet as he fell into the snow.

She threw more snow at him to slow him down, shrieking as she stumbled forward, scooping up an armful of snow to turn into ammunition.

“You’re not getting away!”

His laughter rose in the air, far above the glittering frozen branches of the trees. Snow shifted in one of the trees, showering over them in an ivory veil.

It would have been beautiful, had Rowan not been very focused on trying to escape Gavin as he made chase. The snow made it harder for her to see, and she found she was blinking back snowflakes, the world turning to quicksilver around her as she was momentarily off-guard.

She did not escape Gavin for long.

***

Rowan was pouting as they emerged from the trees, flexing her fingers, her damp, snow-crusted gloves tucked under her arm.

“They hurt,” she whined, waving her red-tipped fingers in Gavin’s face. “This is your fault.”

He snorted, taking her hands and pressing kisses against her fingertips. “I wasn’t the one who started throwing snow.”

“Well you didn’t have to tackle me!”

“You didn’t have to drag me into the snowbank!”

She scowled at the ground as she trudged beside him. “I guess.”

Another snort, his hands rubbing against hers now, trying to create friction to warm them. “We’re going to have to deal with this.”

She perked up at that. “With warm food and blankets and soft clothes?”

Gavin pressed another kiss to the back of each hand. “Yes, exactly, my love.”

An hour later and Rowan was the bright pink of a cooked lobster, the windows of the cottage foggy from the heat of the bath she had taken.

She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders as she followed behind Gavin, a warm mug clasped between her hands. He had a few boxes tucked under his arms, and laid them all out across the floor before the television, much like they had with the lego set that morning.

Only this time it was a collection of different games, simple board games, card games, and a fake murder mystery that they had to solve.

She tapped on the fake murder mystery, earning a wry smile from Gavin as he hunted down all the pillows and blankets in the cottage, making a comfortable nest for the two of them.

“You want that one?” He asked, bemused as he turned on another movie, crossing his arms as she nodded furiously. “I thought you said I had ruined it last time?”

She pouted, clutching the box close to her chest. “Well last time you solved it before I could finish reading the first document!”

He returned the pout, crossing his arms as he collapsed onto the pillows next to her. “It’s not my fault it was so simple.”

Now she was glaring, remembering all the documents and clues that she had strung together on her own.

It had taken hours.

Not exactly what she would have called simple.

She clutched the box tighter, turning her nose up and pretending to focus on the movie. “Then why did you bring it?”

Gavin stretched out on the floor beside her, propping his head up on his hand. He peeked up at her, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Because you like them so much, and the face you make when you’re reading the clues is so cute.”

She nearly smacked him with the box, but held herself back, instead turning her head away so he couldn’t see the blush rising in her cheeks. “Then you shouldn’t complain when I choose it!”

“I wasn’t complaining.”

She did turn to look at him then, scowling over her shoulder. “Then what were you doing?”

He grinned, rolling onto his back, folding his arms behind his head. “Teasing you.”

Rowan’s eye twitched, and she scooted away from him, huffing in annoyance.

“Where are you going?”

“I don’t want to be teased!”

She could hear the pout in his voice as he whined, hands reaching out to grasp at her sides, trying to draw her closer again. “You’re so far away.”

“That was on purpose!”

He snorted, fabric rustling as he sat up, dragging her closer. “I don’t want you far away.”

“Then don’t tease me!” He laughed, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Okay, okay, no more teasing. Will you let me see the game now?”

Rowan handed Gavin the box, letting him open it and take out the documents and clues. Fake animal claws wrapped in plastic and brochures and a little metal flask clattered to the floor, followed by more odds and ends that Rowan couldn’t quite place as Gavin searched for the explanation of the mystery.

“There it is,” he muttered, eyes scanning the sheet while Rowan began sorting through the assorted paraphernalia they would use to solve the mystery.

Copies of journal pages and newspaper clippings and crime scene photos ripped lanyard and torn notebook were all spread over the floor in front of them as Rowan organized everything. She fiddled with a fake file folder, pinching the corner of a page that was labelled as autopsy results.

“Wait here just a second,” Gavin said, setting the introduction page down and standing. “I’m going to go get a notebook.”

Rowan scrolled through her phone as she waited, reading another chapter of her comic before Gavin returned. He immediately tried swiping it from her, but she stuffed it under her blanket, smirking as he pouted.

“Fool me once with that trick,” she sang, poking his side. “But never again!”

He rolled his eyes, flipping to the first page of the notebook, a pink pen in hand.

“Is that my glitter gel pen?” She asked, pointing to it.

Gavin flushed, but didn’t deny it. “It was the only pen I could find.”

Rowan beamed, squeezing his arm. “It’s my favourite pen, you know, you’d better take good care of it!”

He laughed, leaning over to brush a kiss against her jaw. “I’ll protect it with my life.”

“You’d better.”

More laughter as notes were taken, as they slowly began working their way through the clues. Rowan made sure to organize everything carefully, and pinched Gavin if he started getting a little too far ahead.

She could see the way his mind was whirring, piecing the puzzle together faster than she could blink. She knew he already had a strong suspicion of who the murder was, but he kept his mouth shut, instead playing along as they went through the clues and wrote down important facts.

Their movie ended and a new one began. The tea in their mugs grew cold and Gavin stood to microwave them, returning with a bag of candy covered popcorn tucked under his arm.

Aside from the “evidence” and the clues included in the game, there were also a few ciphers, riddles and puzzles that they had to put together to reveal another clue that led them closer to the final answer.

With the puzzles Gavin was a little slower, and they worked together on those, trying to figure them out. Rowan had the notebook balanced on her lap, blanket pulled up over her mouth as she struggled to decipher the new puzzle they had hit. She looked up as Gavin returned, accepting the re-warmed mug of tea and a scattering of kisses over her brow.

“Any luck?” He asked, setting the candied popcorn between them before taking the notebook to peer at what she’d written.

She shook her head, dejected. “Nothing. I don’t think I’m really cut out to be a detective.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better,” he said, eyes flicking between the notebook and the cipher before he jotted something down. “I know far too many detectives who would be twice as stumped as you are. At least you’ve gotten half of it figured out.”

She threw herself back on the pillows, arms splayed out on the floor above her head. “My brain hurts.”

He chuckled. “If you’d like we can start on dinner and then come back to it.”

“That might be the best idea.”

So they set down their things for a little while, focusing instead of cooking a warm, hearty dinner to bring back the energy that was stolen in the frigid winter air.

Gavin pinched Rowan’s side when she balked at how much food he’d brought, chiding her for trying to eat smaller portions lately, reminding her how unhealthy it was.

She crossed her arms as he reprimanded her, muttering that she knew, but that her favourite dress was starting to feel tight around her waist.

“Then I’ll buy you a new one,” was his only answer as he took her hands, steering her away from the fridge and the pork belly he was planning to cook that night.

They split up the kitchen duties of making the sauce, peeling the vegetables, rinsing and boiling the rice, cooking the meat. Tasks that altogether would have taken Rowan an hour at least. But with Gavin beside her…

It still took pretty close to an hour, neither of them particularly adept at cooking.

Although they were certainly getting better, and they worked well as a team, and were able to move around each other with ease in the small kitchen.

And even though it took a while, Rowan couldn’t say that she didn’t enjoy the time she spent with him. Cooking was a task that was usually tedious and exhausted her before she’d had a chance to taste the food she’d made herself. But she didn’t feel the same way with Gavin, who made her feel bright and rejuvenated, made her feel like the time was precious, if only because it was shared with him.

Once dinner was done they settled into their nest once again, reruns of a mystery show they both enjoyed playing now. To add to the atmosphere, Rowan said, as Gavin laughed.

Although they didn’t start right away, Gavin insisting they eat first. He didn’t want the food to get cold, and he knew a little too well that Rowan would forget it entirely once she was absorbed in the game once more.

So they ate, and watched their show, and talked a little, and finally once they were done Gavin gathered the plates and set them to the side before pulling the clue notebook back out.

“Okay, so where were we?”

They continued working on the game well into the night, until Rowan’s eyes were so heavy she could hardly keep them open. She felt a little like she was dreaming, her body weightless as she was lifted into the air. Gavin’s heart beat a steady rhythm against her cheek, lulling her mind until there was nothing but a foggy shroud over her thoughts.

There was only the strange weightlessness, and the beat of Gavin’s heart, and the soft feel of his sweater. And then her body was weightless no more, blankets drawn up around her as she was settled onto something soft, something warm.

She tried to ask what was going on, tell Gavin not to go to bed yet, they weren’t done. But she felt the dip of the mattress beneath his weight, heard the rustle of fabric as he stripped away his shirt and pants. His arms wrapped around her waist, legs tangling with hers.

And that was the last thing she remembered before she drifted off to sleep.

***

They passed their days much like their first few. Warm and tangled together in the morning, Gavin acting very clingy if Rowan so much as tried to roll over. And then they would have breakfast, and play games, or put together a puzzle, or build the second lego set Gavin had brought.

And then maybe they would watch movies, snuggled together as they watched snow drifting across the world. Or they would peek out the windows to see the deer and squirrels wandering aimlessly around the cottage, unbothered by their presence among them.

Then they would go out, perhaps to hike again, or to try out skating on the lake. The ice ended up being thick enough that they were able to skate soundly, and they even ran into a few other people in cottages nearby, also taking advantage of the frozen lake.

Rowan wasn’t much of a skater, but Gavin took to it as quickly as he did most things, and while Rowan struggled to glide across the frozen surface, Gavin skated with ease. He did, of course, not skate too far ahead of her, instead coming back and offering her his arm so they could skate together.

It was so silly, and so absurd, and she couldn’t help laughing as he took her hand, helping her along. She stumbled over the bumps and ridges in the ice, the surface not perfectly flattened the way skating arenas were, feeling a little like a kid that could barely stand. But after a few days out on the ice she started getting the hang of it, even skating away from Gavin’s side, waving her arms as she spun around, rejoicing in her newly developed skill.

She even challenged him to a skating race, thinking that since they were both beginners the playing field would be even. But Gavin was much faster than she was, and within a few seconds she realized that she stood no chance of winning.

So instead, after losing miserably, she tried skating figure eights, and when that got boring she tried spinning like the professional skaters did. She’d seen a few skating programs in her time, and she’d always tuned in to the skating segment during the winter olympics, if only to see the sparkling, beautiful costumes they skaters wore.

So, in theory, she was certain she knew how to spin.

In practice, however, it was a completely different story.

The first time she tried to spin, she stumbled and fell on her butt. She’d shouted, her voice echoing in the vast emptiness of the frozen lake, and Gavin had been beside her in an instant, checking to see if anything was broken.

The second time she tried, Gavin was close at hand, watching her curiously. She fell again, this time on her side, and again Gavin was on her, cooing gently to soothe her as he checked her for any pain or broken bones.

The third time she stumbled, but she didn’t fall, which she considered a huge success. And Gavin had even given her a little kiss for it.

But then on the fourth try she fell again.

It went like this for a few hours, until her body was so bruised that it was relatively easy for Gavin to drag her from the lake and back inside.

Then there was lunch, and more games. Although after the first few days they had started exploring the rest of the cottage, and quickly found that the covered porch was insulated against the elements, and it was heated.

Rowan had been obsessed immediately, so many plush couches scattered around, with plants dangling from the ceiling and crystal worked into the glass surrounding the porch, so that kaleidoscopes of light and rainbows danced across the cushions and the heated floor when sunshine danced across the glass.

It was beautiful, and she insisted on eating out on the covered porch if they could.

After getting dragged inside from skating, and enjoying a nice lunch, Rowan dragged Gavin onto the covered porch, another game tucked under her arm. The sun was just so bright, and she wanted to feel it washing over her like a golden wave.

Gavin smiled when she suggested it, letting her drag him from his comfortable place on the couch inside. He laughed as she explained, his smile like its very own star, warming the galaxies in her heart with its light.

“Hold on, hold on,” he laughed as she began setting up the game on the floor. “We need blankets.”

Rowan paused, looking around the porch, realizing for the first time that although it was filled with pastel coloured couches overflowing with mismatched pillows, there wasn’t a single blanket.

“I mean, it’s not too cold,” she said, even as snow began cascading from the sky, stray snowflakes catching on the glass surface of the windows before melting away.

Gavin arched a brow in bemusement. “Really? And you won’t get cold in the next few minutes?”

Rowan shivered, as if on cue. He smirked in response, his eyes shining with a silent ‘I told you so.’

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured, disappearing back into the cottage.

He returned moments later, as Rowan finished setting up the game on the floor.

“I wish we had heated floors,” she groused, standing as Gavin began laying out blankets and pillows.

He laughed, pinching her side. “I doubt I’d ever get you to sit on a couch again.”

“It’s just nice for my feet! And it’s nice if we’re playing games so we’re not cold from sitting on the ground.”

He drew her closer, nuzzling his nose against her throat. “How could I ever be cold with you?”

“Well,” she drawled, wrapping her arms around his waist, and then slipping her hands beneath his shirt, smacking her freezing palms against the bare skin of his belly.

Gavin gasped, eyes wide as he tried wriggling away from her. “Hey!”

She slid her hands up, giggling as he continued to squirm. “I thought you said you couldn’t be cold with me!”

He snorted, grabbing her wrists and yanking them from beneath his shirt.

“That,” he gasped. “Was a dirty trick.”

Rowan only batted her lashes as innocently as she could, feigning confusion at his words. “What do you mean? You said you could never be cold with me.”

He lifted her hands, blowing warm breath on them, amusement shining in his eyes as he peeked at her over her knuckles. “Maybe I should have been more specific.”

She huffed as she tried to pull her hands from his, squealing when he just drew her closer.

“Can’t play around now, can you?” He asked, his tone light despite the teasing note ringing like silver bells.

Rowan pouted, refusing to look at him. “You’re not being very fair.”

“And you were?”

“I’m your wife!” She exclaimed, again trying to wiggle her hands from his grip. “I should be allowed to put my cold hands on your stomach!”

“Then I’ll be cold!”

“You’re always warm!” She cried. “Always! I want to be warm too!”

Laughing, Gavin pressed her hands against his chest. “Here, you’ll warm up like this.”

“But that’s not as fun,” she pouted, wishing she could scoot away from him.

His voice was soft as a lullaby as he ducked his head, lips brushing against the backs of her hands. “It is for me.”

Rowan would have scowled, mind whirring as she tried to come up with a clever rejoinder. But there was a tapping on the window, a chittering that drew her gaze.

A little squirrel perched on the windowsill, little claws scratching at the glass.

It was impossibly round for a squirrel, its fluffy tail crusted with snow, reminding her a little of a small ghost.

“Aw, look at it,” she cooed, getting to her feet. “It’s just a baby.”

Gavin had an arm wrapped around her in less than a moment after he stood, clutching her to his side as they peered at the little squirrel.

“Isn’t it cute?!” She asked, waving to it as it watched them with dark, depthless eyes.

He nodded, squeezing her closer. “Yes, it’s very cute.”

“We should give it a treat!”

He didn’t have a chance to stop her as she dashed inside, coming out with a handful of pumpkin seeds.

“Rowan, you really shouldn’t feed the wildlife,” he warned, but she only waved him off, cracking open the door to lay the pumpkin seeds out on the snow.

“It’s winter, they’re probably not much to forage for,” she said, shivering as she closed the door. “And maybe it’ll bring them back to its squirrel family!”

They watched as the squirrel cocked its head to the side, tail twitching as it sniffed the air. Then it hopped from the windowsill, racing across the snow to gather up the pumpkin seeds and race away, disappearing into the trees.

“Look how happy it is!” She sang, clapping her hands. “I bet we just made its day.”

Gavin pouted, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Will you make my day, too?”

She patted his cheek, snorting. “And what is it you’d like?”

He mumbled something near incoherent against the side of her head, and she smiled a little wider, guiding him back to their game. “I think I can do that.”

***

Although for the most part they spent the mornings outside, and occasionally their early afternoons, by late afternoon Rowan always found herself being dragged back to the cottage before the sun could sink below the horizon and set the world ablaze.

Gavin always insisted they were inside well before dusk had settled across the sky, and that was something Rowan was not about to argue with him about. The forest seemed to burst to life as night began its quick descent, and she could swear she heard something on the trails behind them sometimes, whisper soft footprints in the snow.

There were nights, too, where she would wake up to the howl of wolves, as though they were surrounding the cottage. Gavin would wake with her, curling his body around hers, humming gently until she fell back asleep, cradled in his arms.

So they did not stay out late, the cold and the creatures of the night not things they wanted to be acquainted with.

Instead, they played games, or they cooked, or baked, learning new holiday themed recipes they found online. Sometimes they read quietly, shoulders pressed together, sharing the gentle quiet like it was a warm blanket wrapped around them.

But as Rowan stirred a pot of wine she was warming the day before Christmas, a sachet of spices and dried oranges on the counter next to her, ready to get tossed in, Gavin popped his head in, eyes alight.

“I nearly forgot,” he said, stepping into the kitchen, scratching at the back of his neck.

“What is it?” She paused her stirring, free hand hovering over the sachet.

He looked sheepish, eyes flicking to the ceiling. “I forgot to tell you, I brought Christmas decorations. I had thought it would be nice to decorate together.”

He winced, as though she would be mad at him. But Rowan couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed across her face, the first touch of spring in the midst of winter.

He had brought their decorations! He had thought it would be fun to decorate together. He had taken the time to pack up their decorations even though the cottage wasn’t theirs, even though they would have to tear everything down at the end of their two week stay.

She paused for a moment, confused. “Wait, but what about the decorations we’d already put up?”

He shrugged, even as a line etched itself between his brows. “I might have bought some extra decorations just for here.”

She threw her arms around his neck, the pot of warming wine forgotten. “Oh babey, that’s one of the sweetest things you could have done.”

She felt the flutter of his lashes against her cheek. “So… You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?”

“Because I forgot until today.”

She pulled away, sandwiching his face between her two hands. “Gavin.”

The line between his brows deepened. “Yes?”

“You surprised me with this wonderful vacation. You cheered me on when I fell on the ice. You let me shove snow down your shirt this morning when we were hiking-”

“-I didn’t let you,” he amended, patting her hand. “You were just faster than me.”

She narrowed her eyes, refusing to believe his words, despite the honeyed tone. She knew how fast he was, if he’d wanted to stop her he would have.

“And you bought new decorations just so we could put them up together. So we could celebrate Christmas here.”

She drew his head down so she could press a kiss above that wrinkle, smoothing it away. “I’m so happy, babey. I’m so happy I get to share this all with you.”

He let out a nervous chuckle, although he did not move, and Rowan pressed another kiss to his brow. And another. And another. And then she was showering kisses on his face as surely as snow was showering on the world outside the cottage walls.

His laugh turned genuine, sweet, a melody that resonated deep within her bones. She imagined it sinking into the walls of the cottage, threading itself into the fabric of the pillows and blankets and cushions. Staining the windows like fog, slipping out into the world and burying in the snow like seedlings primed for the day spring awoke the world once more.

“I would love to decorate with you,” she murmured into his hair, the soft strands tickling her cheeks.

She closed her eyes, breathing in the warm, simple smell of her Gavin. His shampoo and soap were simple, but they had an evergreen smell, a woodsy smell, with some spice she couldn’t quite place. Like she was standing in the middle of a fantasy story, in the midst of an enchanted wood, on a quest to find an enchanted object.

She hummed, reminded of a barbie movie with a similar plot. She wondered if she could get Gavin to watch it with her; she’d certainly gotten him to watch similar movies with her before, so perhaps this wouldn’t be any different…

“Rowan?” He asked, spearing through the frothing ocean waves of her thoughts.

“Hmmm?”

“I think the wine is boiling over.”

She screamed, spinning around to grab the spoon and stirring furiously, scarlet foam and bubbles nearly boiling over the rim of the pot. Steam rose from the wine, blurring the kitchen and everything in it.

“Oh no oh no,” she whined, teeth clenched together as she stirred furiously. “I hope it doesn’t burn to the pan.”

She felt lips against her temple, Gavin at her side, his hands scooping up the sachet of spices and dried fruit and dunking it into the wine. “I’m sure it will be okay. But we’d better start mulling this now.”

She smiled wryly, stirring the last of the bubbles away. “Or else?”

“There might not be any wine left to mull.”

He earned a smack for that, although Gavin didn’t even bother flinching. Instead he just rubbed his arm, laughing before stepping from the kitchen.

Mulling wine didn’t take much time, and once Rowan was satisfied the spices had been steeped long enough she removed the pot from the heat, continuing to stir as steam poured from the wine.

Gavin popped his head back in as she was taking out two mugs from the cabinets, something tucked under his arm and yet another sheepish look on his face.

“What is it now?” She asked, feigning annoyance as she narrowed her eyes at him.

Gavin held up a horrendous looking Christmas sweater. The colour was garish and she was certain there was real tinsel hanging from the sleeves. “I got you an early Christmas present.”

She blinked at the sweater. “Oh my.”

A snort, the awkward light in Gavin’s face fading away. His lips curled up, mischief written in the lines of his face. “Do you like it?”

“Do I?” She asked, although it was more to buy herself some time to come up with the right words to express how she felt about… Well, about that.

He grinned wider. “What if I told you that I have a matching one.”

“I’m obsessed,” she took the sweater from his hands, pulling it over her head.

The inside material was soft, and it was surprisingly warm. Although it did feel awkward and bulky from the tinsel sewn to the sleeves and the miniature ornaments dangling from the front of the sweater.

“Where’s yours?” She asked, narrowing her eyes as Gavin scratched at his neck, phone mysteriously in his free hand.

“I didn’t want to wear it in case you hated it,” he mumbled, his expression void of any shame.

“Well then, you can go and put it on since I would like to match,” she said, nose sticking up, as though she were a prim young lady addressing a poorly mannered gentleman.

Gavin chuckled, and Rowan pushed him from the kitchen, unable to stop laughing, their voices twining together like the opening notes of a song.

“Go on! Go put it on! Or else I’m not letting you have any of the wine!”

He arched a brow, bemused. “Rowan, I don’t think you should be drinking an entire bottle of wine on your own.”

“I will! Don’t think I won’t!”

He pouted. “Rowan, that’s not healthy.”

She shrugged. “I’ll just have some water, too.”

“That’s not- that won’t help if you’re having an entire bottle.”

Another shrug. “I’ll just eat something, too.”

Gavin spun around, grasping her hands, a crease forming between his brows. “But what if you still get sick.”

She disentangled her hands from his to pat his cheek, grinning. “Then I guess you’d better go get that sweater on.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” he sighed, shaking his head. “But how can I say no to you?”

“Exactly,” she sang, giving him another shove. “Now go! Before all the wine is gone.”

While Gavin was getting changed, Rowan considered how much wine she could drink in one sitting, but decided against it. Although the spices made the warmed wine smell delicious, like winter in a mug, cradled between her palms, it was far too hot for her to drink quickly. She also wanted to savour it before the alcohol went to her head and her basic reasoning skills slipped from her grasp.

Gavin returned, his expression full of worry until his eyes fell on Rowan curled on the couch, the mug of wine in her hands.

“Did you save any for me?”

She let her head fall back against the back of the couch, smirking. “Why don’t you go see for yourself?”

The concerned expression was back, and he all but sprinted into the kitchen, only for the deepest, longest sigh to fill the air.

Gavin emerged from the kitchen a few moments later, steaming mug in hand, pinching her cheek as he passed. “You really had me worried there, pumpkin.”

She swatted him away. “As if I could drink a bottle of wine that quickly.”

“Well, there was certainly less than a bottle left after it nearly boiled over.”

“That was partly your fault, too,” she whined, wrinkling her nose as he hefted a box under his arm and carried it closer to the couch. “You can’t put all of the blame on me.”

He dropped the box on the floor before the couch, lifting one hand palm out in surrender. “Okay, okay, I'll relent.”

“Good,” she sniffed, warm spices overwhelming her tongue as she sipped from her mug. “I am your wife after all.”

Gavin settled on the couch beside her, leaning close as though to share a whispered secret. “Come closer.”

Curious, Rowan obliged, scooting closer to Gavin. “What is it?”

He smelled of cinnamon and cloves and oranges and the slightest touch of honey as he leaned so close their noses bumped together. “I love you. I’m so happy you’re my wife.”

Although the words were quite familiar to her ears, still Rowan found her breath catching in her throat. Gavin’s lips brushed against hers in a chaste facsimile of a kiss, sending her heart into a frenzied beat that made her head spin.

Oh why did he always have to tease her?

His lips hovered over hers for another long, aching moment. And then he was pulling away, his expression all innocence as he sipped from his mug, even as Rowan struggled to draw breath.

She did down her mug of wine then, as Gavin’s face filled with smug delight as she struggled to control her composure. Her mouth and throat burned, the spices so strong she could feel their sharp burn in her nose.

The nerve, the absolute gall.

Her stomach twisted, an aching knot forming deep in her belly, and she stomped back to the kitchen to refill her mug, trying to ignore that near painful ache.

When she returned, finally able to control her breathing just a little better, Gavin was beginning to sort through the box he had brought over. THe lid had been set aside on the floor, unveiling yards of Christmas lights, and glittering blue and silver tinsel, and plush figures that sang, and tiny wreaths laden with pine and ribbons and fake pine-cones and red berries.

“What do you think?” He asked, lifting a pair of embroidered stockings into the air, wiggling them so they flapped against each other.

She blinked, the wine already beginning to seep into her blood. “I think it’s marvellous.”

He laughed as he stood. “Then should we get started?”

She sipped her wine, watching him through the steam curling from the dark crimson liquid. “Are you going to tease me again?”

He shrugged. “You’ll have to find out.”

Rowan did in fact find out, but only after she’d teased him back herself, the wine making its way to her mind now, drowning out any of her inhibitions.

She poked and teased him nearly as shamelessly as he did her, earning blushing cheeks and the sweetest stammers from Gavin as he struggled to counter her mischief.

The wine grew cold in their mugs as they decorated, and it was Gavin who went back to the kitchen to reheat everything, leaving Rowan to string up the lights along the floor and walls, a delighted smile shining across her face.

He pinched her when he returned, getting her back for her last bout of teasing before pressing her mug back into her hands.

They chattered as they worked, giggles erupting from both of them as their conversations dipped and spun and devolved. Animals passing by the windows to build-a-bear stuffed animals to questions like ‘what if there was a movie about singing squirrels.’

‘Isn’t that just the chipmunks, Gavin?’

‘The who?’

Or debating whether they could make an entire sweater of the tinsel he had bought, or trying to guess the plot of the movie they had put on and how it would end.

“They’re going to open a cupcake shop,” Rowan said, sipping the dredges of wine from her mug before Gavin took it. “They’re both bakers, it makes sense.”

“No no no,” he shook his head. “The last one we watched they opened a cupcake shop. They’re going to take over her family’s diner.”

“But she’s never even worked in the diner! They opened it after she left for New York.”

Rowan followed at Gavin’s heels as they bickered, a miniature wreath around her wrist like a diamond bracelet. She yanked on the tinsel tossed around his throat like a scarf, and the ends tickled his cheeks until he snorted, turning back around to face her.

“Perhaps you should be the one who writes the next Christmas movie,” he suggested, setting their mugs on the counter. “I think you could make something wonderful.”

She snorted, running a hand through her increasingly tangled hair. “What gave you that idea? When I said they were making knock-off Mcdonalds or when I thought that the love interest would turn out to be a secret prince?”

He frowned down at the empty pot for a long, long moment before turning to the cupboards, searching out another bottle of wine they had brought along.

“You were close,” he said, uncorking the wine bottle and pouring the contents into the pot before going in search of more of the mulling spices. “He was a duke.”

She wrinkled her nose, tapping her cheek as she watched Gavin scoop far too many spices into a sachet. Not that she was going to correct him. Her whole body felt warm and heavy, her head like it was cushioned on a cloud.

“Sounds more like that comic I was reading.”

A laugh as he turned the stove on. “Which one? You’ve been reading so many.”

“It’s not my fault they’re easy to read!”

He shook his head. “You stay up until 4 sometimes reading those things.”

She pouted, crossing her arms. “I don’t mean to.”

He laughed, stepping away from the pot to draw her into his arms, wine dripping onto the floor from the spoon still clasped in his hand. “It just means I’ll have to come up with a good reason for you to stop reading and come to bed.”

Her face flushed, so hot it felt like a match had been struck beneath her skin. The flame caught in the alcohol in her veins, setting her entire body ablaze as she caught Gavin’s meaning.

He pulled away, smirking as she struggled to find something to say. “Well? How does that sound?”

She looked away, muttering that he should focus on the pot more than her, lest it boil over like before.

Rowan stomped away as Gavin continued to laugh, grinding her teeth together as she scooped up another armful of decorations, moving around the room and hanging tinsel and wreaths and settling little figurines on as many surfaces as she could.

He was just so handsome, and he was usually so sweet, and he made her knees feel like jelly when he lowered his voice the way he had, even when she wasn’t drunk. And his eyes… His eyes were like what she imagined molten gold was, dark and bright all at once, burning with such fire that she would melt into a puddle in mere moments beneath his gaze.

She froze, hands hovering over the squirrel in a Santa hat figurine she’d just set on the mantle beneath the television.

She had to go outside. She had to go outside right now.

Rowan would certainly admit that her reasoning skills left much to be desired, particularly now that she’d drunk at least half a bottle of wine. But she considered her decision to go stand in the snow in nothing but her socks to be a very, very intelligent decision.

She even grabbed a handful of pumpkin seeds from the bowl she had placed on one of the little side tables next to the couches in the covered porch.

She needed to cool her brain down, needed to stop thinking horny thoughts. They were decorating for Christmas, she didn’t need to be thinking about his eyes, how they darkened. About his hands at her waist, sliding down to her thighs to-

She threw open the porch door, all but tossing herself into the closest snowdrift.

She shivered, snow seeping through her socks and freezing her toes almost instantly. She danced from foot-to-foot, tossing the pumpkin seeds out before her, watching as they scattered like rain.

She smiled; now the squirrels would have a little treat for Christmas.

Although her plan had been to sober up a little in the freezing air, Rowan quickly found that standing in the snow did little for her inebriated state, and even less for the heat in her belly.

Perhaps she should throw herself fully into a snowdrift, submerge herself in the snow. Maybe that would be a good enough shock to her system.

But before she could take more than a step further into the snow, a hand shot out, wrapping around her wrist.

“What are you doing?” Gavin asked, his voice stained with concern. “It’s freezing out here, you’re going to get sick.”

She wrinkled her nose, throwing her arm out to gesture to the pumpkin seeds she’d tossed. She didn’t want to reveal to Gavin that she’d gone out with the express intent of stifling the arousal he had sparked in her blood.

She knew exactly what that would lead to, and she wanted to finish decorating before they did anything else.

“Feeding the squirrels,” she said, offering him a small smile. “I thought they might want a Christmas gift, too.”

He sighed, shaking his head, scattering snowflakes as they were flung from his hair. “What am I going to do with you?”

She lifted her arms up, silently imploring. He only shook his head before lifting her from the snow, cradling her in his arms like she were a treasure, like he had held her after their wedding, carrying her around like he had no intention of letting her go ever again.

“You’re going to catch a cold if you run around outside like that,” he chided, frowning as she dripped frozen water into the cottage.

“Will you protect me from it?” She asked, clutching at his shirt. “If I catch a cold?”

For a moment he looked lost, bemused, but in the next he was laughing, kissing her face until her cheeks burned. “I’ll do my best.”

He settled her on the couch before finding her a new pair of socks, handing her a warm mug of mulled wine.

“What were you thinking?” He mumbled, seeming unable to let her moment of foolishness go.

“I was thinking about the squirrels,” she said primly, taking a delicate sip from her mug. “They deserve to have a Christmas celebration, too.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have given you more wine.”

She clasped her hands around her mug, clutching it to her chest. “Says you! Your face is red from all the wine!”

They bickered back and forth, laughing as they returned to decorating, until the thread of their teasing was long gone, lost among the snow and the pumpkin seeds that had been tossed into the air.

Once they were satisfied with their decorating they both slumped onto the couch, tired and drunk, heads stuffed with cotton, arms wanting to just hold the other for a moment. For a long moment.

But the long moment quickly slipped away, and they ended up dozing until well past when they normally ate dinner. A dull throb in Rowan’s temple roused her from sleep, the burning dusk replaced by the velvet darkness of the night sky. No fiery sunlight still spilled through the windows, instead only silvery starlight, casting strange shadows along the walls.

She tried to disentangle herself from Gavin to turn the lights on, but he was awake in an instant, rubbing his eyes as he came to.

“Stay there,” he murmured, stretching as he stood. “I’ll go get us some water.”

“We’ll need something to eat, too,” she said, barely able to stifle a yawn.

“How do eggs sound?” He asked, blinking as he switched on a lamp, then another, the living room awash in gold. “And some of those cinnamon buns we tried making yesterday?”

Rowan stood, shuffling along behind Gavin. “We could do omelets! We have tomatoes and peppers and some bacon leftover, I think.”

His smile was soft, sleep still clinging to him as he spoke. “That sounds perfect.”

Unlike when they were decorating, there wasn’t much banter as they cooked, both of them sinking into a warm, comfortable quiet. Omelets weren’t particularly difficult to make, and Rowan cooked while Gavin cleaned up after her, leaving the kitchen nearly spotless and two fresh, warm omelets steaming on their plates.

Gavin settled a cinnamon bun on either plate, and then they trudged back to the couch, focuses slipping between the movie they chose to watch at random, and other distractions.

Rowan, for her part, couldn’t decide if she wanted to watch the movie or read, and so she did a little of both, her attention flitting between the two as her interest rose and fell like ocean waves.

Beside her, Gavin split his attention between the movie and a game he was playing. It was an older one, something she had given to him on his birthday months ago. She peeked over his shoulder to get a look at the tiny rectangular screen, watching as the little character dodged and rolled and swiped at the legs of a giant mechanized monster.

She didn’t notice Gavin’s attention flitting to her face, her poor attempt at snooping on what he was doing unveiled.

“Do you want to try?” He asked, making Rowan squeak in surprise, her heart hammering so quickly she was sure it would tear through her ribs.

She pouted once her momentary shock wore off, crossing her arms as she leaned back. “Don’t tease me. Last time you did that I didn’t even come close to winning against the boss.”

He laughed, scooting closer, moving the console so it hovered in the air between the two of them. “This is different, I promise. And I can help you.”

She took the console from him hesitantly, the controls warm from where he had been holding them.

In her defense, the kinds of games Gavin played were usually not the ones she played. She liked to think out her moves beforehand, while Gavin was much better at in-the-moment attacks and split-second decisions.

It was also worth taking into consideration that she was still very, very drunk, and her reflexes were slowed even more than normal.

So when Rowan unpaused the game and immediately died as the mechanical robot smashed its arm into the player character, she tried not to get too annoyed at herself. Although she was a little annoyed, as Gavin tried and failed to stifle a chuckle, as she reset the battle and began it again.

Gavin did at least keep his promise of helping her. Or trying to, anyways. He gave suggestions on where to move the player character, and what attacks to use and when. It was still up to her to actually land the hits, and to dodge the monster’s attacks, and to not die in the first stages of the battle.

They sat like that for a long while, Gavin offering encouragement as Rowan stumbled her way through the boss battle. And once she’d finally won he helped her through the next stages, letting her wander around some of the areas in the game to help complete minigames and collect plants to brew potions and strengthen their weapons in the game.

Neither of them realized they were falling asleep until it was far too late, the console falling to the side as they slumped together on the couch, asleep in each other’s arms beneath the warm Christmas lights strung around the room.

***

Rowan awoke on Christmas day before the sun had fully risen, a throbbing headache rousing her from her dreamless sleep.

Her neck and back ached, and after a few disorienting moments she realized that she had fallen asleep on the couch with Gavin, both of them slumped over in awkward angles as they’d tumbled into unconsciousness.

Gavin’s eyes fluttered open the moment she tried to shift, his arms sliding around her waist and drawing her against his chest. He mumbled something incoherent against her hair, sighing when her arms slipped around him in kind.

“Babey,” she murmured, patting his back. “Babey, we fell asleep on the couch.”

He murmured something else she couldn’t hear, his arms tightening around her.

“What was that?”

He pulled away to press his brow against hers. “I said merry christmas, my love.”

***

The rest of the day was a quiet affair. They both stood from the couch, groaning, bodies aching from the strange positions they had fallen asleep in. They bathed together quietly, talking in soft voices, their fatigue still clinging to their minds, before changing into soft pajamas and stumbling into bed.

They slept late, until the sun had well and truly risen and the entire cottage was once more bathed in gold. Rowan’s headache still persisted, so Gavin got her water, encouraging her to rest while he made breakfast. She wasn’t about to argue, the headache making the world tilt and whirl like a carnival ride.

Blessedly, it began to dissipate once she’d begun to eat, still curled up in bed next to Gavin. Although her stomach did churn after the first few bites, even that too began to abate, until she felt well enough that it was like she hadn’t drank anything at all.

It was early afternoon by the time they dressed, although Rowan was sure an exception could be made for Christmas. Especially since they had both been out of sorts that morning.

Gavin insisted she open the gifts he had brought for her, although guilt gnawed at her belly for not thinking to have his gifts brought along as well.

“It’s alright,” he promised, as he’d pressed a small box into her hand, so neatly wrapped she was sure he must have practiced for hours to perfect his skill. “There is something you can give me later.”

Heat crawled beneath her skin at his words, at the way his voice dropped, growing whisper soft as he lowered his mouth to her ear.

She was also not surprised in the least when she lifted the lid off one of the gifts to find a pink, lacy confection neatly folded inside.

Although the heat in her face grew hotter, until she felt like she might catch flame, like dry kindling laid too close to a campfire.

She set the box to the side, ignoring Gavin’s smug smile as she scooped up one last present, focusing all of her attention in slowly tearing the wrapping paper apart.

She did not want to meet his gaze, not yet. She was sure if she did she would fall apart completely, giving in to whatever plans he’d been concocting secretly.

“Thank you,” she said, settling the last gift to the side before pressing a kiss to his cheek. “These have all been wonderful gifts. I just wish you could have unwrapped something, too.”

His eyes sparked, and she could already hear the words he was planning to say before he said them.

Something to the effect of ‘well there is one thing I would like to unwrap.’

Not that she was going to give him the satisfaction of saying that.

Yet.

Not yet.

“Why don’t we go sit on the porch,” she suggested, ignoring the way the world spun when she stood. “It looks so pretty today.”

Gavin opened his mouth, then closed it again, reminding her a bit of a fish out of water as he struggled for a moment. But his bemusement quickly fell away, a knowing light filling his eyes. He nodded, gathering up their books and game console they’d left on the couch the night before as he followed her.

They were met with a strange sight once they stepped onto the porch, a little group of squirrels peering at them from the other side of the windows, dark tails swishing in the breeze.

“Oh Gavin, look!” She sang, running to the window. The squirrels flinched, but didn’t run away, watching them curiously with dark eyes.

“It’s because you’ve been feeding them,” he said, settling their things on one of the couches. “You need to be careful or else they’ll expect all humans will feed them.”

She pouted, crossing her arms. “Maybe they’re just really friendly.”

Gavin was about to say something else, to argue with Rowan further, but she was no longer listening as she scooped pumpkin seeds from the bowl on the table, opened the door, and gently settled the seeds onto the windowsill a few feet from the squirrels.

She watched as they tensed, little noses wiggling as they sniffed the air, worried that she meant danger.

But the moment she closed the door, coming back inside to stand next to Gavin, the squirrels descended on the seeds, grabbing them with tiny paws and stuffing them into their cheeks.

“Look!” She sang, clapping her hands. “They’re so happy!”

Gavin hummed in response, pulling her against his side. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Well I hope you continue to love me,” she groused.

His laughter was soft as he lowered his lips to her temple. “That was never in question.”

“Then you can sit with me while I read,” she said, smiling when she felt his lips trailing down the line of her jaw. “My book is at a very interesting part.”

He hummed as she shuffled to the couch, Gavin clinging to her side.

“Do you want me to tell you about it?”

Another hum, although this time he did allow himself to be disentangled from her so they could sit. Rowan pulled her legs up onto the cushions, leaning back against some of the pillows stacked against the arm of the couch as she balanced her book in her lap. “You know, now you’ll be a step closer to defeating the final boss in your game since I helped!”

Gavin laughed, switching on his game console. “I can’t imagine what I would do without you.”

She nodded. “Everything would be incredibly difficult for you. Especially that game.”

A snort, his hand flying up to cover his face as he laughed, curling over himself for a moment.

“What’s so funny?”

Gavin heaved a breath before shifting closer, patting her leg. “I’m just so happy I get to spend today with you.”

“Even if we’re hungover and we don’t do much?”

“I don’t need to do much,” he said, shaking his head. “Just getting to spend today with you makes me happier than I could ever imagine.”

Rowan covered her face as heat seeped into her cheeks. His words weren’t anything she hadn’t heard before, but every time he said something sweet she felt like she was melting. Like she would soon be a Rowan-shaped puddle on the heated floors.

“I love you,” he breathed, taking her hand and drawing it towards him, so he could brush his lips against her palm. “I love you entirely, with all of me.”

Rowan couldn’t stop the giggle that spilled from her lips. For a moment Gavin reminded her of a knight from a fairytale, or a chivalrous prince declaring his affections for a princess. Taking her hand to press a kiss to her skin, to murmur his love against her palm.

She could see it as clearly as a scene in a movie, as a drawn out description in a fantasy novel.

He blinked, his lashes catching the light and turning gold as they fluttered. There was a smugness to the curve of his lip, and although part of Rowan’s mind told her to withdraw her hand at once, she found that she couldn’t. His hand was too warm, and she liked being held by him too much.

“What are you thinking?”

She shrugged, flipping open her book with one hand. “Just this scene I’m on in my book.”

“I thought you were going to tell me about it.”

She looked up, slowly withdrawing her hand now so she could readjust. “Are you sure you want me to tell you about it?”

He nodded, propping his head up on his hand. “I do. I want to hear about the stories you like.”

She smoothed her hand over the page she had last read, collecting her thoughts for a moment. “Well, it’s inspired by the myth of…”

They spent the rest of the day on the porch together, talking, reading, passing the game console between them as Gavin moved up in levels and Rowan helped collect materials for potions and completed minigames. Sometimes they shifted between the couches, trying to find the best place to sit. Sometimes wrapping blankets around their shoulders or draping them over their legs.

Gavin finished his game by the time evening began to settle over the world, while Rowan had started on another book Gavin had gotten her as a gift. They paused long enough to make themselves dinner before returning to the covered porch, this time with a new board game to play together.

And when Gavin won they built a fort with the cushions and blankets. It had been a joke at first, Rowan boxing herself into a corner with pillows, feigning misery at three losses in a row.

“I want to watch ‘Legally Blonde’ to cheer up,” she had whined, right before Gavin had torn the pillows away and started building a much larger fort with them. He’d said something dorky, something that had made her cheeks burn and her heart stumble and her mind draw blank.

And once they had exhausted themselves making their fort, snuggled beneath the blanket ceiling to read a new book and start a new game, they went back inside. There was dessert to be had, and Gavin had promised they could watch any movie Rowan wanted that day. In repayment for his unbeatable winning streak in any game that they played.

Although they didn’t get more than halfway through their movie, night cloaking the world in its shadow, pallid light shimmering from the stars illuminating the darkness, before Gavin got to unwrap his own Christmas gift.

***

The second week of their vacation passed by in a blur of tangled limbs and nearly burnt meals and afternoons spent in the brisk winter air.

The day after Christmas they both felt like they needed to move, and after a small breakfast had agreed on skating and then hiking down one of the trails they hadn’t followed in the past. It curved to the left, rather than to the right like the path they normally took, and both Rowan and Gavin found themselves curious as to where it would lead.

But as they made their way outside, skates slung over shoulders, they were greeted by a small host of furry creatures. Squirrels gathered near the front door of the cottage, watching them in a silence that could have been disquieting in normal circumstances. But before Rowan could feel any amount of unease, Gavin was stuffing his hand in his pocket and tossing out a handful of pumpkin seeds, scattering them to the group of squirrels patiently waiting before them.

“I thought you didn’t want to feed the squirrels,” Rowan said, curious as she followed Gavin down to the frozen lake.

He shrugged, taking her gloved hand. “But you’ve been doing it for the last few days. And it’s made you happy, so I thought I would feed them too.”

She leaned against him, warm despite the freezing winds whipping against her face. He was sweet as spun sugar, as soft as down. She was so happy he was part of her life.

She shared her sentiments with him as they laced up their skates, earning a flushed-face Gavin who stammered over his words.

She adored this side of him too, she thought as she took his hand and began to glide across the frozen surface. The sweet, awkward side. The one that blushed when she told him he was cute, that he was precious, that he was sweet as candy that made her teeth ache.

They spent about an hour on the ice before Rowan’s stomach began to rumble, their small breakfast not doing much to keep her energized. And when they headed back to the cabin they were once more greeted by the group of squirrels, perched on the windowsill now, watching them curiously.

“I think they’re looking for a little lunch, too,” she mused, settling some pumpkin seeds on the ground a few feet away.

After a much heartier lunch, one that Gavin promised would keep her warm, the squirrels had vanished from the front of the cottage. But as they made their way down the snowy forest paths Rowan could have sworn she heard chittering in the trees, the forest seeming much more alive than it had the last few times they’d gone out for a hike.

The squirrels grew braver after that. Each morning when they went out, whether to lounge on the porch or step out for some fresh air, the squirrels would be waiting. Noses twitching, little paws poised to grab onto any food they set down for them.

One day Rowan and Gavin even decided to set out a small bowl just for the squirrels, so they knew exactly where the food would be. Like a little feeder just for their new furry friends.

After setting down the bowl a bit earlier than normal, Gavin suggested heading down to the lake one last time. They only had a few days left, and the weather was poised to turn strangely warm. So while they could still hike as the snow puddled beneath their feet and the icicles melted away, they would not be able to skate on the ice safely if it began to melt.

Rowan had wanted to perfect her jumps, or perfect her attempts at jumps. Gavin had been cheering her on, going so far as to film some of her best attempts, telling her how proud he was of her.

She’d tried to get him to skate with her, too. Like the couples’ skaters she’d seen on television, too. But while Gavin was quick to adapt to the ice, he still struggled to dance, falling over nearly as many times as she did.

But he always smiled, sometimes dragging her down with him, both of them laughing as ice and snow dusted their clothes and their hair. And still he tried, once he grew more comfortable, some of his nervousness released after the tenth or eleventh time he’d tumbled to the hard icy surface.

So they’d grabbed their skates, Rowan resolving to get Gavin to dance with her for at least ten minutes before they stumbled and fell onto the ice. And she resolved to try to land one jump perfectly, without stumbling, without falling on her ass.

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, in chattering away at Gavin, who always nodded and hummed as she spoke, she almost didn’t notice that they were being followed.

In fact, it wasn’t even until they were wobbling onto the ice, trying to once more get used to the strange feeling of gliding on thin blades, did Rowan notice the chittering and rustling behind them.

She turned, covering her mouth to stifle a laugh, as a group of squirrels paused at the edge of the lake. She could swear that she saw consternation on their tiny faces as they studied the lake, then turned their dark eyes on her and Gavin.

“Babey, look,” she said, grasping his arm and pointing towards the tiny hoard. “Look at all our friends! They’re here to cheer you on.”

He arched a brow, gaze moving from the small creatures to Rowan’s face. “I don’t know if I want an audience.”

She squished his cheeks between her gloved hands, hoping the smile she gave was equal parts teasing and comforting. “Gavin, you’re wonderful in everything you do. And,” she dropped her voice to a conspiratorial breath now. “I don’t think the squirrels are going to judge your ice dancing abilities.”

He smiled then, his lips curving up like a crescent moon. “You might be right.”

“I am right,” she insisted. “And it’s not about being good, just about having fun, right?”

He pinched her side, the corners of his eyes creasing as he smiled wider. “Weren’t you the one who was out here saying you had to do those jumps perfectly?”

She wrinkled her nose, frowning at the horizon. “Well, they definitely won’t be perfect unless I take professional lessons, so I’m trying a new tactic.”

Another laugh, followed by his lips against her cheek. “Alright, I’ll follow your lead, then.”

The squirrels slipped to the back of their minds as they skated around for a while. Rowan stumbled on some of the bumps in the ice, but she’d grown used to them by now, and was able to correct herself before she fell over and smacked her face against the ice. Again.

And maybe she just wanted an excuse to hold Gavin’s hands, to catch the shy look that crossed his face as he tried something he wasn’t used to, something that he was a little clumsier at. It was usually followed by the sweetest expression, one of soft joy like sunshine creeping across a dawn sky, when he did something right.

The squirrels, for their part, continued to chitter and wander around the edge of the lake. A few even dared to skitter across the surface, sliding on their bellies when their paws slipped from under them.

Rowan watched, after falling so hard on her ass she saw stars swimming in her vision, three little squirrels struggling to right themselves as they slid across the frozen surface, squeaking as their tails flailed wildly.

She watched as Gavin took pity on the poor creatures, scooping them into his arms and depositing them back into the snow. They tensed when he drew near, but they were already far too frightened to do much else, and they let him lift them up and gently settle them back on the snow with the rest of their friends.

Rowan couldn’t help biting on her bottom lip as she watched Gavin help the wayward squirrels, warmth spilling from her heart like an overflowing glass. Like joy was a fizzing wine, and its warmth was spilling through her veins.

Catching sight of his gentle expression, the line between his brow and the cadence of his quiet murmurings as he calmed the stressed creatures as he carried them to the edge of the lake, her chest felt like it might burst. She wanted to hold him in her arms as tight as she could, wanted to run her fingers through his hair, wanted to squish his cheeks between her hands again.

She paused, humming as she flexed her fingers. Slowly drew herself to her feet before skating towards him. She could ignore the cuteness aggression. But she could also not, and she didn’t really want to ignore it right now. Not with the addition of all the layers he wore, and the dorky hat pulled over his head that made his bangs messy and cute, and the chunky scarf wrapped so high around his neck it almost hid his face.

“Babey!” She called, skating as fast as her wobbling legs would allow. How long had they been on the ice, anyways? The had long since felt the first bite of cold seeping through her clothes, and her body was just a little too numb for her liking.

They should probably go inside soon.

Although not yet.

He hummed, brows raised as he moved towards her. “What is it?”

She reached out her hands, smacking them on either side of his face, squishing his cheeks. “I just wanted to do this.”

He looked confused, lips sticking out in what might have been a pout, although she wasn’t entirely sure since she was pressing his cheeks with such force his mouth was squished along with them.

But after a moment his confusion melted away, muffled laughter and snorts spilling from him. His eyes squeezed shut, shoulders shaking as he laughed, mirth washing over his smushed face.

Rowan started giggling too, his face so cute and his laughter so delightful and silly that she couldn’t help herself. She dropped her hands, wrapping them around her belly as she snorted, gasping for breath as she laughed more.

Gavin took her hands then, bringing them up to his chest. There were red marks on his face from her hands, and he was still chuckling. “Happy now?”

“Yes, very.”

He squeezed her hands tight. “Good. Then we should probably go in for a bit. We’ve been out for a few hours and should warm up for a bit.”

Rowan let him drag her towards the edge of the lake, back towards the cottage. “Can I squish your face again?”

A small sigh passed his lips, and he looked at her over his shoulder, his gentle smile undercut by the mischief in his eyes. “You can do whatever you’d like.”

***

The next time they went hiking the squirrels were far less subtle about following them.

They didn’t hide in the trees, scampering around just out of sight, blending in with the muted browns of the forest.

Instead, they followed at Rowan and Gavin’s heels, chirping and chittering as they clung to the tree trunks closest to them, watching curiously as their whiskered noses twitched.

“I think we’ve made some new friends,” Rowan whispered, peeking over her shoulder to see a little black squirrel hopping through their boot-prints in the snow.

Gavin snorted, squeezing Rowan’s hand. “They probably just want more food.”

“No, no, they love you,” she insisted, ducking beneath a low hanging tree branch in their path. “You rescued a bunch of them from the lake. They’re obsessed with you now.”

Gavin rolled his eyes. “I doubt that. They’ve probably already forgotten.”

Watching the squirrels that followed them around the forest, Rowan wasn’t entirely sure Gavin was right. If they just wanted food they likely wouldn’t be following so closely. Or they would surely be trying to paw at them for food, the way Stella sometimes did when she was begging for treats.

“You’re like a disney prince,” she continued, removing her hand from his to wrap her arms around his waist. “They love you.”

Another eye-roll, a snort. “Should I sing to them next?”

“Well,” she drawled, squeezing his side. “I wouldn’t be opposed to you singing.”

She didn’t have to look at his face to know he was blushing. His ears, tucked beneath his heavy winter hat, were surely crimson by now.

“My voice isn’t that nice.”

“Well I think it’s wonderful.”

He sighed in defeat, patting her arm. “I’ll sing for you when we get back.”

“What about the squirrels?”

He chuckled, eying the squirrels practically dangling from a tree branch nearby. “I only like singing for you.”

She pinched his side, but only lightly, just enough for him to laugh as he pinched her back.

“You’re a dork, Gavin,” she teased, arms falling away to take his hand once more.

“But you love me?”

“Of course. How could I not?”

***

It wasn’t the watery morning light that drew Rowan from sleep, or the creaking sound of the cottage’s front door, or even the burst of cool wind that swept through the small building as the door closed.

Instead, it was the absence of Gavin’s arms. His soft breathing. His gently humming when he was trying to coax her awake.

Rowan sat up, eyes still blurry with sleep. She winced at the light, quickly scanning the room to see if Gavin was getting dressed, or perhaps on his way back from the bathroom.

But the bathroom was empty, and Gavin’s pajamas hadn’t been set to the side they way they were when he got dressed. There weren’t any sounds from the kitchen either, which meant he wasn’t trying to put together breakfast yet.

Rowan drew a soft blanket around her shoulders before descending from the bedroom into the main room of the cottage, sweeping her tired eyes around, frowning at the shadows in case Gavin was tucked away in one of them.

It took her tired mind a long, long moment to remember the sound of the front door opening and closing, the creak of the rusted hinges.

And it took her another long while to notice that Gavin’s boots were missing from the rubber mat near the door.

Rowan padded across the room, stuffing her feet in her own boots before trekking outside. She paused as she stepped onto the porch, the sunlight so much brighter with all the windows and crystals embedded in the glass casting miniature rainbows across every soft surface.

She narrowed her eyes, a soft melody seeping through the glass. She turned in the direction of the song, catching sight of Gavin’s figure through the windows.

Hiking the blanket higher around herself, Rowan shoved open the door, stepping out into the freezing morning air. It took a second for her eyes to adjust, sleep still clinging to her mind like ivy to an ancient home.

Gavin stood a few feet away from the door, his back turned to the cottage. A bowl of pumpkin seeds was in one hand, the other scattering seeds across the snowy ground. Squirrels surrounded him, a few even perching on his shoulder. And he was singing, one of her favourite songs, the melody warm and sweet as sun-warmed honey in his voice.

He turned at the sound of the door opening, his amber eyes, nearly gold as they caught the light, widening when they fell on her.

Rowan pulled the blanket tighter around herself, the urge to hold him tight in her arms nearly overwhelming her again.

“I was right,” she sang, before a yawn stole her voice for a moment. “You really are a disney prince.”

He smiled, soft as spun sugar, equally as sweet. “Does that make you my princess?”

She pressed her lips together to stop from smiling wider, rolling her eyes as heat crawled up her neck. “Perhaps, Gavin. Perhaps.”

He laughed, one of the squirrels pawing at his side, seemingly annoyed he had stopped singing, or feeding them treats. Or perhaps both.

He held out a hand towards her. “Then why don’t you join me, my princess.”And standing beneath the rising sun, his quiet singing still lingering in the wind, eyes shining, limned in light like something out of a fairytale, he really did look a little like a prince. And he was her prince. And how could she refuse?

#mlqc gavin #mlqc gavin bai #mr love queen's choice #love and producer #mlqc bai qi #mlqc gavin x mc #gavin x mc #gavin x oc #bai qi x mc #mlqc holiday #a holiday fic!!!!#from the vaults (I wrote this last year I'm so delighted to have found it)#star kissed winds

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timeisacephalopod · 10 months

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You know what, I had my doubts about the Barbie movie and feminism but it was a lot more explicit than I thought it'd be. A little cartoonish and on the nose sometimes but also it's in the middle of a movie about a kids toy so it balanced it's sometimes heavy handedness with a BUNCH of funny as shit jokes.

Ken is my son and I love him, and I was delighted by his story arc and Goslings performance. Fantastic casting choices all around! Also starting it like 2001 A Space Odyssey was a fuckin brilliant choice, half pisstake half genuis way to introduce your world and the occasional narrator the movie has.

#winters ramblings #id highly recommend seeing it- like is it THE most well put together movie with feminist themes #yes the movie itself is great but the feminism was Babys First Feminism but i think thats fine and it does what it needs to #in the narrative. will Ferrell was DELIGHTFUL in the movie as well and the sets were amazing!!#shoutout to having kate McKinnon play weird barbie but not have her do that fuckin voice thing shes always doing in movies #idk if its directing choices or not but i like her a lot without the Voice she does she was a perfect cast for weird barbie #seriously though i REALLY liked ken. barbie had an interesting story but i found ken a bit more relatable which is interesting #because the LAST thing id do is simp after someone but maybe if margot robbie was around id make an exception too lmao #but i like him discovering power and then finding out power is kind of exhausting to have and its work he didnt like #PLUS he gets told go find himself AS himself EITHOUT barbie who is not in love with him anyway??#very cool ken SHOULD have a strong sense of self before he gets with barbie!!

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januarium · 1 year

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Can I just say that I am so glad to see the Goncharov resurgence give Cybill Shepherd the sapphic appreciation she deserves?

I know I'm not the only one who saw her play a lesbian in The L Word and suddenly had an awakening about the subtext I'd been feeling watching Goncharov as a kid. Those Katya/Sofia scenes stuck with me so deep. Seeing the same actress finally get to be with women in The L Word vindicated something I didn't even know I'd felt at the time.

#goncharov #unreality #katya goncharov #seriously though Cybill has said she has a crush on Selma Hayek has two queer daughters #has been calling out Hollywood racism for decades #what an amazing casting choice by whoever made that poster #I'd be so delighted by her getting her own fandom from this #(god I hope she hasn't been revealed to suck but all the things I have found were good?)

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vidavalor · 7 months

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Crowley actually says a barely-coded "I love you" to Aziraphale back in 2.03

In his proposal in the S2 finale, Crowley told us that he and Aziraphale know they're in love and have known it for damn ever but they pretend they're not a couple. This, by default, means that they've not specifically said the words "I love you" before, by Crowley's own admission. They've said I love you in their own little language and we've watched it before. It's little demonic miracle of my own. It's don't go unscrewing the cap. It's just a little bit of a good person and just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing... But what Crowley says in the S2 finale is that they've never-- ever-- said in 6,000 years is just I love you in those normal people, human words. It has always been too dangerous for too many reasons to count so they have euphemisms for it and whole conversations around it and have made that be enough. Why do I bring this up? Because Crowley found a middle ground between the words and their coded language with one another in S2 and it's flying under the radar.

So you know that scene when Muriel has shown up and interrupts Crowley and Aziraphale talking in the back room? The one where while Crowley is speaking, Aziraphale suddenly looks like he's about to pass out with sheer want? Yes, our angel always looks at Crowley like he hung the damn moon (which he did but lol...) but this scene is different. This scene is like... someone get Aziraphale a chair and a glass a water because he is pupils-dilated, audibly breathing, and eyeing up Crowley with naked want. More than the lust? He looks happy. He looks delighted. You can basically hear his heart race from that look on his face. Why here? Yes, Crowley looks hot. Yes, he's in profile in a way that is a visual parallel to Before the Beginning (which was an inspired choice for this scene.) Yes, he's here with a Plan and taking charge of the Muriel situation and swaying his hips a bit while he speaks. It's not any of that. Those are nice bonuses. Aziraphale likes them. He gets them all the time. It's what Crowley said in this moment. To Aziraphale. Through what he said to Muriel.

Crowley cracks a dry, kinda dark joke that is meant for an audience of one: just Aziraphale. He knows Muriel won't get it. Since Muriel is cosplaying as what they think is a human Inspector Constable and they are here to verify the miracle Aziraphale has told Heaven and so are monitoring them, Crowley quips that Muriel is here to spy on them (since they, well, are, actually) and that he knows that many human police officers like to make a bit of a hobby out of spying on "people in love."

People. In. Love.

In a one-two punch in the same sentence, Crowley called him and Aziraphale queer humans and he called what they have love, using the actual word *aloud* for the first time in 6,000 years. He said he loved Aziraphale in front of an angel of Heaven in a little coded joke but this time, using the coded bit to say the real thing for the first time.

Then, just to hammer it all home and make sure that Aziraphale really knows it was very much intentional, Crowley says 'love' again in the next sentence. He starts going on about how Muriel can come to him anytime with any questions about love and he's happy to assist with their understanding of human love with all of his implied vast, vast years of experience with the subject and how he'll be here to answer their questions, in the bookshop, while Aziraphale drives his car to Edinburgh.

Go back and tell Heaven I'm here, Inspector Constable, I don't give a fuck anymore. *We* don't give a fuck anymore. You go tell The Archangel Michael that I'm who they're going to get managing Angelic Embassy X aka The Bookshop until Aziraphale gets back-- yep, me, former Demon of Hell. The Boyfriend in the Dark Sunglasses. He's asked me to, which is his way of saying he wants to stop hiding and asking me not to sneak out to my car in the middle of the night which hallefuckinglujah, Inspector Constable... Go tell Their Beatitudes that we ravish each other all over the bookshop. You won't even be lying. As Maggie'll put it later in the season: I'm done being afraid all the time. I love him. We're in love. There's your hot intel.

Aziraphale:

Aziraphale: Inspector Constable, be a dear and spray me down with all 700 of our fire extinguishers, will you?

#ineffable husbands #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x aziraphale #good omens meta #good omens 2

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les4elliewilliams · 1 month

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Unwanted attraction // e.w

coworker!ellie ✗ fem reader

cw/wc: 11k ; tried to proofread it but im blind asf and i need glasses so!! smut, swearing, strap on sex r!receiving, oral r!receiving, also mention of ellie receiving it but i was too lazy to write that part (possibly gonna make a few drabbles about it in the future, who knows) fingering r!receiving, angst. enemies to lovers trope :')

a/n: i'm well aware my silly goofy goose is the sweetest baby ever but imagine if she hated you, what would it be like? (besides trying to kill you and hunting you down ofc, let's remember this is AU) idk been daydreaming about it.

highly inspired by a bot on Chai ( *︾▽︾)

¡! daily click・palestine masterpost・do not buy any game from naughty dog, neil druckmann is a zionist・more daily clicks. ¡!

☆・・・・☆ ・・・・☆・・・・☆

Rough sex on the bedroom floor

Hop in the shower, she begging for more

Do not disturb on the hotel door

✩ coworker!ellie made sure to make your life a living hell at work, whether it came to messing up with the neatly organized files on your computer or desk, complaining about everything you did, talking shit behind your back, stealing your coffee (and she didn't even like coffee, but she'd do anything to piss you off), calling you names, make fun of your clothes but at the same time checking you out whenever you bent over your desk or to pick up something from the musty floor. Such a delight she was.

✩ coworker!ellie absolutely hated how everyone seemed to love you, except her, of course. She despised how you always wore a stupid smile on your face as if nothing could ever bring you down, not even her. Your mere presence was enough to light up the whole room. She couldn't figure out what about you instantly attracted people.

✩ coworker!ellie hated how you always organized everything by color, name, and date like a freaking maniac, and obviously, she couldn't help but tease you about it.

"OCD much, baby?" "You should get this obsession of yours checked. it's not normal."

✩ coworker!ellie works as a photographer while you are a writer. Your job is to write anything that your boss asks you to write. However, Ellie often sends you the pictures you need for your works in the middle of the night or past the deadline, making sure you work overtime to finish your project. This often results in you getting yelled at by your boss the next day (which was exactly what she wanted)

✩ coworker!ellie always found something to complain about when it came to you. She disdained you and didn't even try to hide it. She would criticize everything about you, from your clothing choices to your makeup and hair. It was as if she were looking for flaws to point out and would not rest until she found something to complain about. She never seemed to give you a break, and you always felt like you were walking on eggshells around her. Despite your efforts to be friendly towards her, Ellie never reciprocated. But what she hated the most was how she couldn't actually bring herself to hate you; she hated how her body reacted whenever she let her eyes linger on your ass and tits for too long. She absolutely hated the skirts you wore almost every fucking day; it was a curse cause she couldn't despise your body.

✩ coworker!ellie hated how you talked, the sound of your voice, and how obnoxious it sounded when you spoke or giggled but secretly wondered how you'd sound beneath her, whimpering and moaning her name.

✩ coworker!ellie deeply dislikes when you gesticulate while talking and how your dimples show when you laugh at someone else's jokes in the office, especially when it's one of those stupid man. Because how stupid could you be? It was obvious that he was flirting with you with the only intent of getting into your panties.

✩ coworker!ellie gags around you whenever you walk by, and she makes sure you know how fucking disgusting you smell. How your flowery scent disgusts her; she's so pathetically disgusted by it that all she wants to do is bury her nose into the crook of your neck.

"Who the fuck is wearing this perfume? smells fucking disgusting" "Smells like shit in here"

✩ coworker!ellie always finds a way to put the blame on you when she screws up, especially when her boss is pretty pissed at her and is complaining about how she's not responsible enough and doesn't pay attention to detail.

✩ coworker!ellie will talk over you during meetings, even when she had been quiet the whole time. The moment she decides to speak up is when you take the initiative to do so. What a coincidence.

✩ coworker!ellie would often mock and make fun of you whenever you mispronounced something.

"You hear yourself? Like, ever?" "Princess' forgetting grammar today, isn't she?"

✩ coworker!ellie constantly makes rude and disrespectful comments about your ideas and contributions saying shit like

"That sounds like a stupid idea. But what were we expecting from you?" "Do you ever make yourself useful?" Your boss and everyone else in the room had enough of the ongoing rivalry between you two and they would always tell her to suck it up and take it outside. That's how things usually went: she'd say something mean, and you couldn't let her have the last word. You were always nice to everyone but you eventually grew tired of her ugly attitude and how unmotivated it was. Cause why the fuck was she so snappy about everything? What have you ever done to her? Easy. Absolutely nothing.

✩ coworker!ellie has never invited you to any of their coworkers' hangouts. She always came up with excuses to avoid inviting you, and the best part was that you knew nothing about it; she'd make excuses like

"She told me her grandma is sick" "I dunno, she said she already had plans" "She's dogsitting this weekend" Imagine how worried your coworker Dina was about your grandma. The poor girl was so concerned that she had to reach out to you and ask about it. What if you needed a friend to talk to? You knew she would always be there for you no matter what, but that's beside the point. Ellie most likely didn't consider Dina walking up to you to ask about your grandma, or maybe she did; it's not like she cared. Her sole purpose appeared to be provoking you anyway. "yn, how's your grandma doin'?" she had this soft, worried tone going on "My…grandma?" you looked puzzled and tilted your head slightly, trying to make sense of what was going on cause what the fuck was she talking about? Your grandparents weren't even around anymore. "Oh, but last Friday Ellie said…" she trailed off, finally connecting the dots. "Y'know what? I think I misunderstood." she quickly brushed off the awkward situation with a chuckle, realizing that adding more fuel to the rivalry you two had going on was pointless. she decided that from now on, she would be the one to invite you to their girl nights out. Imagine Ellie's surprise when she saw you enter the restaurant Dina had chosen, the brunette giving Ellie a mischievous smile from across the table.

✩ coworker!ellie can't help but look at your ass whenever she'd get the chance, the way you walked, the sway of your hips. She had always wondered what kind of underwear you wore and of what color. As much as she despised you, she wanted to know everything about you. What made you icky, what didn't. What was your type, what made you horny and desperate. Those kinds of things, ordinary things, basically. And she really couldn't stop fantasizing about you, imagining herself fucking you from behind, smacking your ass hard enough to leave marks on it, all five fingers.

✩ coworker!ellie couldn't quite figure out your sexuality. You were so friendly to everyone and she couldn't count on her gay-radar at all. She claimed that thing was pure bullshit cause she always ended up pursuing straight women. (such a loser)

✩ coworker!ellie felt like she had won the lottery the moment she caught you checking out your new coworker, who happened to be a girl. She couldn't pinpoint why she felt that way, she hated you after all, right?

✩ coworker!ellie spilled your pumpkin spice latte all over the scattered papers on your desk the same day out of…jealousy?

"Why the fuck would you do that?!" you raised your voice at her and promptly grabbed some paper tissues to fix the damage she had done. "Do what, princess? it was a mistake, chill out." she flatly said, veiny hands stuffed into her pockets, doing absolutely nothing to help you. She just stared at you with a cocky grin on her face, feeling proud of herself "It tastes like burnt shit anyways, dunno why you drink it." her nonchalance was making you even more furious than you already were

✩ coworker!ellie unconsciously licks her lips when you cross your legs and your skirt moves up just a bit enough for her perverted mind to think of all the filthy things she'd do to you if she didn't hate you so much.

✩ coworker!ellie who whistled whenever you bent over. And as soon as you straightened up, ready to go off on her, you noticed that she had this poised and confident look on her face. It was evident that she had anticipated your reaction and had an answer prepared for whatever you had to say to her, and to be quite honest, she mostly did it to get on your nerves.

"What do you expect me to do? You clearly bend over like that for me to notice." "Think I don't know you doin' this just to put on a show f'me?" "You bend over like a slut every single time I walk by. Thought I wouldn't notice?" and she wasn't even wrong. Despite claiming not to like you, you noticed the way she looked at you and you liked it, loved it even. It was quite entertaining how she tried so hard to convince herself that she did not like you one bit. Pathetic.

✩ coworker!ellie completely forgot you were on a business trip the moment she realized you had to share the same bed.

You were both sent on a 'business trip' by your boss and were assigned a hotel room to share for the duration of the trip. The hotel your boss sent you to was not of the best quality, to say the least, and to make matters worse, you realized that you had to share the same bed with Ellie. The situation caught you off guard, and you could sense the awkwardness in the air. You knew that sharing a room was part of the trip, but neither of you expected to have to share the same bed.

He must be out of his mind, was the first thing that crossed your mind.

When you called him to complain about his terrible choice, his dismissive comment made you even more furious "You're both women, I don't see why this is an issue."

Don't see why this is an issue my ass. Working with Ellie was already the worst thing ever, but sleeping with her? the universe or whoever must be playing a cruel joke on you because what were the chances? Plus, Ellie was being her usual self with that attitude, which obviously wasn't helping at all; you weren't gonna have any of it. "Just fucking great, I gotta share the bed with you" emphasizing the 'you' just to make you feel like a disgusting piece of trash that she absolutely despised. you couldn't care less; her petty comments didn't amuse you anymore. In all honesty, you were used to her ugly attitude. When you first started working with her, her hateful comments really got to you. You would break down as soon as you returned to your cozy apartment, making you feel like something was wrong with you. However, your other coworkers reassured you that she was like that with everybody, so you learned to accept it. Kind of. She still made your life miserable whenever she could, but you honestly loved this job. You had worked hard to get where you were, and you didn't see a point in giving up just because little miss hated you a bit too much. She dropped her suitcase by the door and slammed the door shut "You can always crash on the floor," you said back, mimicking her annoyed tone.

As you stood there, she turned to face you, and you could see the anger in her eyes. She shot you a death glare, and her lips were pressed tightly together. "I'm not a fucking doormat" she snapped, her voice laced with frustration and anger, like always.

You couldn't help but huff and roll your eyes at her behavior "Then shut your fucking mouth and stop throwing a tantrum like a little kid" Despite her scarred brows furrowing in anger, you couldn't resist the urge to call her out on her tantrum. Just as she was about to snap back at you, you cut her off with a simple "I'm gonna shower." You walked over to the bed, unzipping the suitcase you had thrown on it earlier. Your fingers searched for your pink cherry-patterned pajamas, which you had smartly placed on top of all your daily clothes for easy access. It was just one of the many small things you calculated and organized in your daily life. And, of course, she despised this aspect of your personality too; she hated how organized you were, everything you did, every gesture, every word; it always was so calculated, while she was more spontaneous (another word for impulsive) and never cared enough about how unorganized she was. As you disappeared into the bathroom to shower, she couldn't resist the temptation to rummage through your suitcase, hoping to find something interesting. An amused smile appeared on her face when she found sexy black lingerie; it was just what she was expecting you to wear underneath those slutty skirts you wore almost every day at work. Being the sneaky little mf she was, she put everything back the way you left it so you wouldn't suspect a thing. "Borrowing" a pair of your panties, a souvenir.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, you noticed that she had already changed into her comfortable pajamas. She was wearing a pair of black boy shorts and a t-shirt from what seemed to be a band she loved. The shirt looked worn out, the colors faded, but you could still make out the logo of the band, it was a casual yet charming sight. Despite her best efforts to control herself, she found herself unable to resist the urge to stare at you intently, your soft curves, and how the cherry-patterned shorts hugged your ass as the top fell loose over your boobs. It didn't take her too long to notice that you weren't wearing a bra, nipples peeking through the thin fabric of your top, but she forced herself to look away.

"D'you ever take a shower?" you quipped as you strolled to the right side of the massive bed "I took a shower earlier today. Besides, I don't smell bad, so there's really no reason to," she walked to the other side of the bed while trying her best to avoid making eye contact with you. "You gotta shower before getting into bed, it's just gross not to," you scolded her in a mom-like tone, making her roll her eyes in response. "Don't boss me around. I don't need a shower. I smell just fine." she said. You were getting on her nerves again, and you could tell from her annoyed tone; she never liked feeling judged or being told what to do. So, you decided to drop it — too tired to start another argument. You let out a sigh and collapsed onto the soft mattress, feeling instant relief in your back. Your gaze was fixed on the ceiling, "Well, at least it's comfy," you muttered to yourself, as she climbed in next to you and grumbled, "I guess so" and turned away from you, yanking the covers over her head.

The room fell silent, both of you trying your best to ignore each other's presence. You shut your eyes, and so did she. Over 10 minutes passed, and you were still wide awake; why were you suddenly struggling to fall asleep? You were convinced that the little stinky beside you was sleeping, but she wasn't. The little cunt scooted closer to you, secretly enjoying the heat radiating off your body, making sure to keep her eyes shut in the process so you'd think she was sleeping.

She pressed her back against yours, and as much as it felt nice, you shifted uncomfortably and moved again. Your attempt to create distance between both of you turned out to be a complete failure; she kept scooting closer each time you moved away. "You're gonna make me fall out of bed, Ellie," you whined, shoving her away from you. Her eyes shut open, she muttered, "Oh, sorry," and tried to move away from you. But she found herself unable to do so for some reason. She longed for your touch and warmth, realizing that it was a pathetic situation to be in because she hated you; she couldn't feel this way towards you, so why was she? Instead of moving away, she inched closer to you, seeking comfort in your warm body against her cooler, freckled skin.

You huffed again in annoyance and turned onto your side to look at her, realizing how close you two were. "What" you asked flatly; she slowly rolled onto her other side to face you. She blinked slowly, her emerald green eyes taking in your features. You weren't so ugly after all, she thought to herself. She could feel your breath on her face. "Uh, nothin'." She didn't want to admit how comfortable she was with the closeness, feeling your soft skin against hers. "We are not gonna cuddle," you stated firmly. "No, of course not," she agreed quickly, not wanting to push things further either, deep down yearning for something more than just cuddles. She settled back into her spot, trying to ignore the slight disappointment that fluttered in her stomach "Stay on your side of the bed, s'not that hard." the tone of your voice was firm and slightly irritated, "Fine," the auburnette girl muttered under her breath, rolling onto her other side again. She shut her eyes, trying to ignore your presence as you both lay there in silence.

You faced away from her, your eyes shut, trying to focus on something other than the tension you felt in the pit of your stomach. You considered facing the pillow or lying on your side, but your legs felt restless. You wondered if there was a solution to ease your discomfort. The girl beside you groaned softly, annoyed with your constant shifting, her eyes fluttering open as you kept tossing and turning. You heard her sigh heavily, rolling over onto her back and facing the ceiling again "Look, I know you're not used to me or anything-" she started but you were quick to cut her words off "Yeah, I am not" you sighed frustrated and mimicked her position, your eyes glued on the ceiling that seemed to be the most interesting thing ever at that moment.

Ellie turned her head slightly to look at you, a slight smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. "Well, I guess we could try something different then," she softly said, her voice conveying anything but innocence. A subtle hint of mischief seemed to accompany her words, indicating that she had something specific in mind. Your head turned as soon as she spoke, brows furrowing at her words, "What do you have in mind, Williams?"

"I could help you...relax," she replied confidently, a sly grin never leaving her face. She moved closer to you, her green eyes are fixed on yours. Her heart raced a little faster as she waited for an answer, your consent, anything. Was she fucking out of her mind? Was she suggesting what you thought she was?

You scoffed, "What the fuck, Ellie? 'm not gonna fuck you." you replied sharply, squinting your eyes at her; she groaned softly and hovered over your body, propping herself up on her elbows. "C'mon angel, scared you'll like it?" a cocky grin glued on her face as she spoke confidently almost as if she knew what she was doing. She chuckled softly when you didn't reply, leaning closer until your bodies were pressed against each other, her hand gently stroking your waist "Just let me try," she whispered. Her cold hand sent shivers down your spine when she slid it under your tank top, your warmth seeping into her skin, igniting a fire within her. She had always wanted to touch you like this, even if she hated your guts. She leaned in slowly, eyes locked on your moist, plump lips. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you would kiss the girl who pissed the shit out of you daily, let alone fuck her.

Your lips met hers, you felt a strange sensation in the pit of your stomach and chest, like a fluttering feeling. It was as if every fiber of your being was electrified with the touch, and soon, soft and slow kisses turned into a whole makeout session. Her tongue slid into your mouth, and you gladly let her explore every inch of it, her callous fingers gently exploring every inch of your skin and your fingers grasping her messy bun, you still fucking hated her. A series of conflicting thoughts ran through your mind, making it difficult for you to focus on anything. Part of you wanted to pull away, while the other part was eager to explore this, whatever it was. Your grip unconsciously tightened into her auburn locks, slightly pulling her hair. "You little bitch" she muttered under her breath when she pulled away from the kiss, your lips mere millimeters apart, only connected by a string of saliva, "You're a little bitch" you were panting slightly from the intense makeout session "You're fucking obnoxious" she replied without missing a beat. However, this time, no hint of annoyance laced in her voice; her voice was husky and sultry, and she looked at you with such a desire, one that you've noticed before, but she was acting on it this time. Her hand began to tug at your shorts, pulling the soft material down. "And you're not?" you scoffed, your eyebrows raised as you stared back into those green orbs of hers. "Keep talking like that angel, see what happens," she warned you with a sly grin. "Why, what are you gonna do?" you challenged, but she seemed to ignore your question, for now at least.

She didn't waste time, calloused fingers pressing against your clothed cunt as she discarded your favorite pajama shorts somewhere in the dimly lit room. A soft sound escaped your swollen lips, making her smirk in amusement. "I barely even touched you," she teased you, her fingers tracing your soaked and still clothed slit. Your pussy has never been wetter, and you hated how skilled she seemed to be with her hands, how wet you became as soon as she touched and kissed you; almost as if your body had been craving for her touch. "Shut the fuck up," you hissed, only causing her to press her digits on your throbbing clit; she observed you; it was like she was analyzing your every move and reaction. She watched you squirm beneath her. "Aww look at you, baby. Want more?" she purred, her mocking grin taunting you, making you pout and nod frantically. You needed more. Your cunt was starting to hurt and clench around absolutely nothing, you needed her fingers and you couldn't help but feel extremely embarrassed by it. You needed her fingers. The fingers of the girl you hated the most. fuck.

She let out a dry chuckle and slowly shook her head, a few loose auburn strands falling onto the sides of her face "That's not how it works, you can do better than that, I know it." she encouraged you. it was all she needed to hear, all her ears craved to hear, you begging for her, begging for her to destroy your pussy.

As stupid and absurd as it sounded, you were only hers in her mind. She had never laid a finger on you before, but you belonged to her. She wanted to be the only girl in your life, the one you relied on; the worst part was that she couldn't even explain why she felt that way towards you. Why you out of all people? she didn't have the answer to that. She loved getting reactions out of you, getting you all riled up and fuming red, that's what she knew. But tonight, she was lucky enough to explore a new side of you. She wanted to absolutely destroy you. She wasn't gonna be gentle; after all, she still despised you.

You let out a soft groan when she pulled her hand away from your core, leaving you wanting more "Please?" you mumbled. Your voice was soft, timid almost. You hated that she was putting you into this position, and that it had to be her out of all people. She had you wrapped around her finger already and you couldn't even understand why. She expressed her disapproval with a subtle clicking sound of her tongue, shaking her head just enough to convey her dissatisfaction. It wasn't enough. She needed more, better.

Her faint smirk suggested that she found the whole thing quite amusing. "Please, Ellie..." you tried again, you could see the irritation build on her face, she let out a long sigh and rolled her eyes in frustration. "Cat got your tongue, or what?" she asked, her voice tinged with impatience "I need you to be specific. Tell me exactly what you need from me."

Despite your usual confidence, you found yourself letting out an airy huff, almost as if to release some of the tension you were feeling. Beneath her, you felt so insignificant, so vulnerable. How her green eyes studied you made you feel so exposed, you needed her more than anything. Your underwear was damp, and the uncomfortable throbbing was getting worse by the second "I want you to fuck me, Ellie," you blurted out, a mischievous grin spread across her face, her eyes sparkling with amusement and desire. "Is that any better?"

"Good girl," she praised you. You could feel her fingers pulling your underwear down, leaving you bare from the hips down, you still had your tank top on but she was planning on taking it off soon, she was yearning to play with your tits, it was all she ever fantasized about. "Relax, okay?" she whispered due to the closeness, her face dangerously leaning into your neck. You could feel her taking in your scent, the same scent she claimed to hate so much, and soon attacking your neck with damp kisses. You tilted your head to the side and let her, as her fingers began to rub your aching nub, making you gasp at the contact, her hands were so cold, it almost made your hips jerk away, but she held you in place with her other hand, pressing her weight onto you to keep you down. Every little movement you made encouraged her to continue. Soft and small gasps left your lips. You quickly bit into your lower lip to keep yourself quiet, suddenly feeling pathetic for letting her do whatever she wanted to you.

"You know how long I've wanted to play with you like this, hm?" she purred into your neck, her fingers drawing slow circular motions on your clit, tracing your slit just to tease you "Fuck, you're soaked..." she murmured under her breath, more to herself than to you, taking note of every reaction you had to her touch. "You're a jerk, you know that right?" your voice came out softer than what you expected, it was impossible to be mad. How could you even be mad at her? She was making you feel so good. "Am I?" she slid a finger inside you, she could hear a few stifled moans coming from you, almost as if you were too proud to show her that she was touching you just in the right places, still struggling to believe you were letting her touch you. "Y-yes. I fucking hate you" you continued, trying to sound as mad as possible, she inserted another finger and began to pump them in and out of you "Why are you letting me touch you like this, then?" she had this sarcastic and taunting tone that would've usually made you mad if she wasn't fucking you right now. "Cause— can't sleep," you stammered out, and she chuckled at your words, amusement etching across her features "Yeah, that's obviously why you're letting me fuck you" She couldn't help but find this funny. You were always so confident, acting like she had no power over you and had her believing she couldn't bring you down no matter what, that whatever she did to you was useless...until now. So finger drunk, you needed her; it only served to boost her ego, making her realize that you weren't so bulletproof and unreachable after all.

"You dress like a fucking slut. Why do you even dress like that, hm? So that Luke guy can drool over you?" It was as if a floodgate had opened, and all her pent-up thoughts suddenly came pouring out as she kept finger-fucking you, her thumb teasing your clit every now and then. "L-luke?" You echoed her words perplexed, wispy brows furrowing together as you struggled to keep yourself quiet. You couldn't even fucking remember a guy named Luke, yet, there she was, acting like a jealous girlfriend while fucking you. "Yeah, Luke —fuck. you have an idea of how bad I've been wanting to bend you over your stupid desk and fuck you hard?" Her tone was rough, her voice dripping with jealousy and perhaps possessiveness, not that she had any right to act that way. "I thought you hated me" She snorted at your words, her eyes darkening with desire and a small grin on her face. "I still fucking hate you, don't be pathetic" she snarked out, pumping her fingers harder and deeper into you, curling her digits ever so slightly; she had your legs trembling like crazy and whining like the slut you were. "Hmm—fucking hate you back" you managed to say between a few whimpers. "Y'know what?" she abruptly pulled her fingers out of you, earning a small groan from your part "No no no" you complained, your voice laced with desperation as a small frown appeared on your features. "Take your top off," she commanded without giving you a further explanation "Your bra too." she added. You watched as she rose from the bed, and made her way over to where her backpack lay, discarded on her side of the bed. You followed her movements with your eyes, curious about what she was looking for. She rummaged through the bag's contents for a few moments before pulling out whatever she needed. A fucking purple strap. "Let's see if I can make you hate me even more." You could not look away, keeping your eyes glued on her as the auburnette stripped down her clothes with a purpose. Your eyes remained locked on her body as she moved and shifted, removing her clothing one piece at the other. You watched her put on her strap-on, her body was more muscular and toned than you expected, her well-defined abs making you almost salivate at the sight. "And you expect me to take that shit?" you blunted out, pointing at the long silicone dick standing erect, attached to her body, her v-line prominent "You're gonna take every inch of it, pretty," her tone was demanding, leaving you no room to argue with her decision.

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen." you firmly retorted, completely reluctant at the idea, but she was already straddling your lap, spreading your legs wide to adjust you into the position she wanted. If anything, your reluctance only seemed to spark a playful glint in her eyes. She was clearly intent on having her way with you. "You gonna be a good girl f'me." She hushed you, holding the shaft still and licking her lips hungrily as she peered at your wet entrance. You squirmed and tried to close your legs but she wouldn't let you. She quickly spread them apart again, her fingers digging into the soft flesh of your inner thighs as she pinned them down to the mattress. "Nah-uh. Spread 'em open f'me, princess. I won't hurt you, promise." Her tone slightly shifted into more gentle one, and her eyes hungrily glazed over you. You let out a shaky breath and tried to relax all the tensed muscles in your body; she made you feel so vulnerable in that position. "Ready?" She asked before pushing the tip in, slowly, stretching your pussy out so good "Ahh, shit" you hissed, eyes shutting immediately at the new sensation, you weren't prepared for it. "Hurts?" you shook your head to reassure her. "Hurts good." She smirked, enjoying the feeling of power that she had over you. She started to thrust in slowly, only pushing an inch in every two minutes, allowing your cunt to adjust to it. She groaned softly, watching you squirm under her, enjoying how much you wanted it from her. "You're so fuckin' soaked, it's going in so easily" she commented, chuckling at your state. You were indeed fucking soaked, your juices dripping down your pussy, making a mess on the sheets. You arched your back when half of her strap was in, pushing your hips down to allow the strap to slip deeper into you, your cervix suddenly yearning for it. You gasped when the slight pain immediately turned into pleasure, your legs were shaking like crazy, so fucking pathetic; she loved the messy state she got you in. "Look at you, god" her voice above a whisper as she took in your naked body and the glistening strap that was sliding in and out of you. "Oh my god," you moaned, wrapping your legs around her waist to push her deeper into you, your eyes rolling to the back of your head; all this pleasure was almost unbearable, but it wasn't enough for her. Her head lowered just enough to take your neglected hard nipples into her mouth, sucking on them. You could feel the tip of her tongue circling the hard nub before releasing it with a pop, switching to the other nipple to give it equal attention. Your boobs were better than she had imagined, so fucking beautiful.

"Always bending over when I walk by. Was this what you were trying to achieve?" she rasped out, slamming her dick into you hard. "Ellie!" a muffled cry escaped your lips as the corners of your eyes filled with unshed tears began to glisten, seeing you like this was one of her favorite things. You were so pretty and desperate, she couldn't get enough. The tip of her purple cock was hitting your cervix just right; obscene moans, a symphony of lustful ardor flooded the air filling the hotel room. "I asked you a question, baby" She grasped your chin firmly and forced you to meet her gaze. Your head swiveled back and forth, your brows quivered under her unrelenting gaze. A soft sniffle emanated from your nose as you attempted to produce a clear response "N-no," but both of you knew that wasn't the truth. You were acutely aware of how she gazed at you with unbridled desire and hunger. The way her emerald orbs scrutinized every inch of your body left you flustered, almost as if she could devour you with just her gaze and you couldn't help but like it.

The strap sliding out as she said "Dunno, sounds like a lie to me" only to slam it back in even harder than before, causing you to squeal. Tears welled up, their weight unbearable on your eyelids. "P-please, I can't…" you pleaded with a feeble voice; it was almost imperceptible to the ear, but she could hear it loud and clear. Her ears were enhanced, honed in on the sound of every little gasp that escaped your mouth, each breath you took, every moan of pleasure. "Can't what, huh?" She appeared to be playing dumb, fully aware of the intense feelings coursing through every fiber of your body. As she moved in and out of you faster and faster, she could not help but feel the heat radiating from every inch of your skin, making her own body burn with desire. She knew that she had complete domination over you, that she had reduced you to nothing more than a helpless puppet at her mercy; she had you crying and moaning like a porn star. "Feeling good, angel?" Your cute whimpers only added fuel to her desire, fueling her to go harder and harder. Her fingers dug into the soft, warm fat of your hips, and her nails sank into the flesh, leaving small crescents behind on your skin. She was not being soft or gentle anymore. Instead, she was rough with you, enjoying her domination and relishing in the feeling of having her way with you.

"Gonna cum on my cock, yeah?" she purred, sending a chill up your spine as her words penetrated your ears, your body was completely at her mercy, and it seemed as though she was the only thing that existed at that moment "No one's gonna fuck you better than me," and you knew she was right. She could feel your walls clenching around her, almost as if you were trying to trap her in. She could tell you were about to cum. The familiar sensation of the knot snapping overcame you, causing you to cry out her name. Your polished nails dug into her back, drawing faint, pink-ish lines that would remain there until the next morning. For some reason, she loved the idea of having a small reminder of what you two had done together on her body. Like a souvenir, one which would bring back fond memories each time she looked at it; Ellie was secretly a sucker for that kind of stuff. Her body pressed closely against yours, her heartbeat as frantic as yours. You could feel every breath she took as she panted on your bare shoulder, the heat of her breath filling your senses and your skin tingling under her touch.

As your high began to fade, she pulled out of you, bringing you back down to earth and back to reality. "Fuck" She breathed out, slowly sinking down next to you on the mattress. You just stared up at the ceiling, completely exhausted and out of breath "Best ride of your life, huh?" both of you were exhausted, but of course, she couldn't resist the urge to tease you a bit more, "Yeah, not bad" You tried to retain the facade of being unemotional and cool, but you were still feeling the aftereffects, your body still trembling "Not bad? I think you have a hard time admitting your feelings" You scoffed at the words; you didn't want to boost her ego and risk her teasing you even more the following day. Your voice stayed calm and composed, but your body language was betraying you. "My feelings for you? I hate you. Nothing more"

"Hate me so much you came all over my dick" She taunted you playfully, a mischievous grin tugging at the corner of her lips. Her eyes never left yours for a second, a gaze that was intense and tantalizing. Eventually, you turned to your side to face her, the side of your face sinking into the soft pillow, still blushing from the previous activities, a display of your vulnerability and sensitivity that was hard to hide. Her playful demeanor and teasing were making it difficult for you to keep your cool. "Why do you even go around with that thing?" You couldn't help but ask her the question that had been lingering in your mind the moment she pulled it out of her backpack. "Was planning to use it, obviously," She gestured with her hands as she explained herself. "Not with you, of course." She was quick to add, as if she had predicted the questions that were going to come next from you and you raised your eyebrows at her, your body language showing some skepticism about her answer. Such a fucking liar she was. Sure, she brought it everywhere she went just in case, but she totally dreamt of using it with you, her dirty mind filled with fantasies about the ways she could use it with you. "Such a dick," You rolled your eyes and turned away from her. You could hear her snicker at your words. Unexpectedly, she pulls you closer, her bare chest pressing against your back. Both of you are still sweaty from the night's activities, and you can feel her body heat radiating onto you, her arms wrapped around you tightly. "What're you doin'?" You groaned in protest, trying to get away from her grip. You wanted her to let you go, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel the urge to lean into her touch, a contradiction between your internal feelings and your physical body's reaction. She ignored you and kept hugging you, pulling your body against hers. Your breath hitched as you felt her touch and her body against you. "Spoonin' the shit outta you," She was so nonchalant about it that it drove you crazy. It was almost as if she never really tried to make your life miserable every day. But you couldn't help the flutter in your stomach, your cheeks getting warmer and hotter by the simple gesture. Your body was reacting to her touch without you even realizing which was an unexpected yet welcome feeling. You were thankful for everything that she couldn't see your flushed state. "Yeah, whatever," you grumble, trying to sound pissed off although you're actually feeling quite the opposite. "Sleep well, pretty," She mumbled tiredly, sending a wave of confusion through your body as her lips brushed your shoulder. It was a small gesture, one that should not have warranted this level of reaction. But your body had other ideas. A wave of butterflies erupted in your belly, making you feel a bit dazed for a moment and smile like an idiot.

The following days were filled with unspoken tension and the usual bickering. But this time it was different. There was something more lingering in the air, as though that night you had together had changed the feeling between the two of you. Although the change was subtle, it was there and could not be ignored. She started to think that maybe, she didn't despise you as much as she thought she did, and she started to put up with your behavior as if it wasn't that annoying after all, but she never dared to share that sentiment, as she was afraid you would reject her or not see her in the same way. She would always find any excuse to touch you briefly, grope your ass or your tits, and to her surprise, you would let her; her hands would brush against your body, her grip lingering just a bit longer than necessary. And she seemed to be getting clingier, she hated not being the center of your attention, even for a second. Even though she knew you were writing an article and had a deadline to make, she could not stand it when you were so dismissive of her need for your attention. She tried distracting you by cupping your breasts, hoping to get your focus off your work, but you would just push her away each time. "i really, really, need to finish this." shooing her away like a stray dog with a wave of your hand. She took advantage of your distracted state to sneak under the small hotel desk, one of her tactics to get your attention. The warm palms of her hands gently rubbed both of your knees, a sudden contact that caught you off guard. You jolted at the sensation and pushed your chair back slightly in response, your eyes following her hands as she moved them to your knees. "What're you doing?" You asked her, perhaps with an edge of irritation in your voice, your tone tinged with annoyance and trying desperately to maintain your focus. It was the third time she tried to distract you, and although you found it cute, you needed to finish your article. "What do you think I'm doing?" She looked up at you, raising her eyes to meet yours, as she spread your legs open. She pulled you closer, her hands now roaming freely over your thighs, touching you in ways that made you tremble. It was clear that she had no intention of leaving you alone, and was willing to go to greater lengths to get your entire attention. "Ellie, I seriously need to finish this stupid article," You protested weakly, trying desperately to retain your focus and not give in to her charms. However, the way she was looking up at you from under the desk was more than enough to make you fold the slightest bit. The way her eyes glimmered with desire, the way she was holding your legs and pulling you close to her, it was all taking its toll on your body, making your pussy throb with anticipation and excitement.

"Just wanna help" She shrugged in a playful manner and acted all innocent and cutesy, but the mischievous look in her eyes said otherwise. She was teasing you, knowing full well what she was doing and how she was affecting you, she was enjoying the power dynamic and knew you would not be able to resist her. You sighed and rolled your eyes at her "Fine" You eventually gave in, unable to resist her; an expression of triumph appeared on her face as she knew that her teasing efforts had been successful. "Lean back, beautiful" She demanded softly, her hand reaching up to press on your abdomen to push your back against the chair. You helped her roll up the black skirt to give her better access to your core, making her grin even wider at your willingness. Her fingers immediately hooked onto the waistband of your panties, sliding them down slowly, revealing your pussy to her. "So fucking pretty" She couldn't help but voice her thoughts, her obsession with your pussy was clear, and she had been dreaming of tasting you ever since that night. It was a shame that she hadn't had the chance before, but she was more than determined to make up for lost time. Already two days had passed from that night and she felt like she was going crazy already.

Her soft lips kissed your inner thighs, sending shivers up your body as they brushed near your sensitive flesh. You could feel her breath as her lips touched your body, and it was an incredible sensation, driving you utterly insane. She loved driving you crazy and she was great at it. "Ellie, your teasing is getting old" You huffed trying to hide how worked up she was getting you. Every touch of her lips on your skin made your body twitch uncontrollably, every caress of her hands sent shivers through your body. Your breath was getting heavier, you could feel your body start reacting to her exploration. "Doesn't seem like it to me, especially judging by your pussy — God, so wet." Before you could even open your mouth to reply, she gave you a small, catlike lick, almost as if she was testing the waters to see how you would react. You felt a jolt through your body as she explored your wetness, sending shivers down your spine and making you squirm in your seat. When she tasted you, she could have sworn her head spun from the sensation, nothing came close to the taste of you. In a quick movement, her arms wrapped around your legs, pulling your dripping cunt closer to her face as she devoured you hungrily. The sensation of her mouth on you was almost unbearable. Her tongue flicked expertly, teasing and tasting every inch of you. The cute sounds she made against your cunt barely audible over your high-pitched moans.

She loved how responsive your body was, how wet you easily got at her touch. It made her stomach do pathetic flip-flops, feeling like a schoolgirl in love. She loved having such control over you, and it made her feel powerful. Your hands gripped the edges of the desk tightly, your breaths becoming more ragged as she continued her work. "Fuck...need—need more, please."

She knew exactly what you needed and was more than ready to provide it. She slid two fingers inside you, curling them enough to reach your g-spot with such ease that you nearly screamed. You were already struggling to keep your legs open, you could feel your orgasm nearing and she could sense it too. She continued to finger you mercilessly, her other hand holding your hip firmly in place; you always moved a lot whenever you were close; that's what she learned in the last few days. Your head rolled back, your legs tensing up as you felt a surge of pleasure coursed throughout your body. Everything was tense, and your breath heaved slowly, and your mouth hung open. Your entire body was in a state of pure ecstasy, your mind barely able to think clearly as you tried to process the overwhelming sensation. "Guh-od," you choked on your own words, the sounds of your breathing getting heavier and heavier as you came in her mouth, the slight slurping noises she made were absolutely disgusting.

When she pulled away, she was gasping for air, and you could see the satisfaction on her face as she had taken care of you. It was clear that she had enjoyed herself as much as you had, and she had absolutely no regret or shame about what she had just done. Feeling you cum on her fingers and in her mouth was even better than fucking you senseless with her strap. "You taste so fucking-" But you cut her off, grasping her hand still gripping into your hip. The sudden movement made her freeze for a moment, taken by surprise as she was still trying to process the intensity of the moment. "I wanna taste you too." You got up from your chair, pulling her up with you. You held her close to your body, your feet moving slowly towards the bed. As you walked backwards, you kept her just an inches away from your body, your grip tight around her waist. "Oh really?" She cracked a playful smile, amused by your statement, clearly in for whatever you had in store for her. When the back of your knee hit the bed, her hand gently pressed on your chest to push you down onto the bed. Everyone knew how the rest would go, you were bound to continue where she left off.

✩ coworker!ellie acted like nothing happened when your little business trip ended, and things went back to how they were. It was as if all the conversations and moments between you two never existed like she had never touched you. She went back to her usual routine of barely talking to you, and when she did, it was usually something negative. You didn't know what to make of her behavior. You expected some kind of reaction from her, but not...this.

✩ coworker!ellie would seem completely normal when you were alone, but when you were in your work environment, she became distant and aloof. She would occasionally take you out on dates and be affectionate after your hookups, but it was such a confusing situation to be in; her actions seemed to contradict each other. She'd act like a jealous girlfriend if someone approached you but she wouldn't commit to you.

She always ensured no one was around before touching you or even saying something remotely sweet to you. She'd sneak behind you and wrap her arms around your waist while you were too busy with something to notice. Her breath would hit the side of your neck, and when you tilted your head to give her easy access, she'd attack your neck with kisses. Or she'd compliment you, but it'd be in her own style and all. "You look like a slut in that" followed by a "Can't wait to fuck you tonight"

✩ coworker!ellie gave you the silent treatment for an entire week after confronting her about her confusing behavior. You couldn't help but feel frustrated by her lack of communication, and you wondered if it was worth pursuing a relationship with someone who couldn't express her feelings properly. One day, when you arrived at work, you found a beautiful bouquet of red roses sitting on your desk, accompanied by your favorite coffee.

She was leaning against your desk, patiently waiting for you to arrive. You couldn't hide your surprise, and you asked her what it was all about. "Got you a lil somethin'," she said, handing you the roses. You tried to remain calm, but you were still hurt by her previous behavior. How could she ignore you for a whole week and get you roses like nothing happened? "I'm tired of your stupid mind games" You frowned slightly "What do you want?!" You let out a frustrated sigh. "No weird shit this time, I promise" she said. "I want to make it official between us." You were skeptical, but a part of you wanted to believe her. You had strong feelings for her, and you couldn't deny that you wanted to take things to the next level, but you needed to be sure that she was serious about your relationship, so you didn't accept right away. She needed to earn it.

✩ coworker!ellie spent weeks trying to make amends and apologize, but you initially remained distant and unresponsive. She tried to win back your affection with small gifts and kind gestures, but it seemed like that wasn't enough. You only wanted her to publicly demonstrate her affection and show everyone how much she truly cared. Eventually, she seemed to get the hint and adjusted her approach. The way she asked you out was...romantic.

You were way too engrossed in organizing the papers on your desk and you failed to notice her walking up behind you. You could hear her footsteps as she entered your shared office, but you didn't expect her to approach you. You heard the door close, but you were too deep in thought, standing before your desk, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you sorted through the papers. Suddenly, you felt her arms wrap around you from behind, and you let out a small yelp of surprise. Her lips hovered over your neck, where she left a few gentle kisses that made you instinctively tilt your head to the side.

Her hands lowered to your hips, pushing your butt into her crotch; you pushed back slightly, trying to get away but she was just too tempting, and the feeling of her body pressed against yours was too much for you to resist. "What do you think you're doing?" You sighed, trying to sound annoyed. "I want you." Despite your body craving her touch, you knew better than to fall for her emphasis on the word 'you'. Every part of you was trying to resist, calling you to give in to the temptation of her sweet words, of her tender lips on your necks, but the rational side of you knew that this could not end well. But god, the way she was touching you, her hands fidgeting with the hem of your skirt, it was driving you crazy, she was driving you crazy.

You took hold of her hands and held them firmly to prevent further movement. "You're too much of a pussy to actually treat me right in front of other people" The moment your words left your lips, you could see them reach her and resonate with her in a way that you didn't quite expect. She was visibly taken aback, but she didn't stop what she was doing. "I told you I want you. I'm more than serious," she insisted, her tone serious and unwavering. Her hands lifted your skirt slightly, causing you to immediately glance towards the locked door. "Here? Now?" you internally panicked, and she could feel your body tensing up in her hands, but she hushed you. "Everyone's on a break, no one will walk by," whispering tantalizing words into your ears that set your body on fire and made your heart race. "Just keep it quiet, we'll be quick" so you gave in cause how could you not? the way she kept pushing your ass closer to her pussy was just enough for you; her body language screamed desperate, and honestly, so did yours.

Her lips kept kissing your neck, and she knew exactly where the sweet spot was; she knew your body like the back of her hand. Her hands slowly trailed over your body, cupping your breasts and squeezing them, massaging them in circular motions through the fabric. A stifled whimper echoed in the small office and you could feel yourself getting wet, your pussy throbbing like crazy already. "Y-you can't just...do this and act distant when we're in public" she already had you stuttering and struggling to keep your breath even, your voice coming out a lot softer than intended, making her smirk against your soft skin. "I want you" She repeated, her tone serious and sultry, like a serpent tempting you with her words, luring you in with her touches; you sighed at her words. "What kind of I want you are we talking about?" You watched her hands roam all over your body, and they seemed to have a life of their own. She pressed your back into hers, her tattooed arm trailing down to your skirt, sliding under it and inside your panties. "I want to fuck you, I want you to cum on my fingers, and I want you to be mine," you gasped when her fingers found your clit with such ease, rubbing it "Be yours?" You uttered weakly, trying to contain your whimpers. The sensation of her touch was too intense for you to keep quiet, and every little sound you made felt like a confession; you wanted this, you wanted her hands on you, and you wanted her lips. She hummed back in response. "Be mine."

"Ellie, I want to be your-" You let out a slight moan as she rubbed your throbbing nub faster, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your hands reached out to grip the edge of the desk to support yourself as your poor legs were starting to give up. The feeling was overwhelming, almost as if she was controlling every inch of you with her touch, and your body was telling you that you had no control anymore. "What was that, huh?" Her tone was mocking, and she loved seeing you squirm and twitch in her grip. Every tiny movement of your body was like a sign that she had that control, that you were her puppet and she was the master in this little game of hers. She loved playing with you, making you lose control, and watching you react to her touch, her words, everything she did. "Girlfriend," you gasped out, finishing your sentence. "You wanna be my girlfriend, baby?" to which you responded with a moan and nod. Without warning, she pulled her hand out of your panties and pushed you down onto the desk. Your whole torso was pressed against the cold surface of your desk, accidentally scattering the papers you were organizing earlier. The girl wasted no time in pulling your skirt up, her green irises focusing on the wet spot she had created — fucking soaked; she licked her lips hungrily, pulling your pink underwear down. "Tell me what else you want, pretty" her fingers tracing your slit teasingly, collecting all your slick and messily smearing it all over your pussy. You shut your eyes, remembering yourself to keep it quiet.

"So ready for me—nice and wet, just how I like it." Before you could give her a proper answer or anything, she smoothly slid two fingers into your hole, sounds of pleasure filling the small room, hoping no one could hear you. "Want you to...fuck...treat me better," Her fingers picked up the pace, pumping in and out of you faster, almost giving you no time to adjust to them, she was so fucking desperate to make you cum on her fingers and god if anyone walked by, they would've been fucking traumatized, it was fucking obscene. Ellie finger fucking you from behind; she had you bent on your desk, just like she had always dreamt of.

"Treat you better, got it — Keep talking, princess." She just loved teasing you. She had you wildly writhing on your now messy desk, struggling to keep your mouth shut, yet she loved it. She loved the tremble in your voice as you tried to keep those cute little whimpers of yours at bay. So dreamy, such a slut you were for her. "I was so- mmph…upset when you…ignored me for a week." Each moan, each gasping breath, told her exactly how close she was bringing you to the edge. And oh, how Ellie loved being in control of that. "Yeah? I made you all sad?" her tone was mocking again, and her fingers moved faster and harder with each word that came out of you just to make it extra harder for you to hold your moans, such a cunt she was. You moaned in response, but apparently, that wasn't enough for her. "No, princess. I wanna talk it out. Use your words."

You whimpered and pushed your hips backward, meeting her thrusts. "I was...Ellie, please..." but she clicked her tongue "Was what?" She urged you, demanding that you finish your sentence. You couldn't see her face, but you knew just by her tone that a cocky grin lingered on those freckled features you loved so much. "Upset, con- confused" you stammered, bucking your hips against her hands as she kept fingering you mercilessly. "Why?" she knew exactly why, it was just an excuse to keep you talking. "Cause I couldn't understand, I just- 'm close." slutty moans echoed in the small office, no longer caring if anyone who passed by would hear you, you were far too gone for that, far too gone to think and use your brain. "I know angel, just tell me how you felt." all your juices making a mess of her hand, not that she cared, you were dripping all over her fingers and hand; completely enamored with the way your body reacted to her touch.

"I just wanted you and- oh my god!" and just like that, you exploded on her fingers; she hovered over your body, bending down over you just to whisper sweet nothings into your ear, her fingers still buried deep inside you, letting you ride out your orgasm. Your breathing was ragged, panting like a dog. "Wanna be my girlfriend?" she whispered in your ear, leaving a few kisses on your neck. "Yeah," you breathed out. "Yeah?" she echoed with a cheeky smile creeping up her face, though you couldn't see it. "Yes, but I'm not your fucking secret." you tried to sound threatening and she couldn't help but chuckle dryly at your words, wrapping her arms around your waist. "Not gonna be my little secret."

And she kept her word.

✩ coworker!ellie went from your biggest hater to your biggest fan. Could you imagine it? Well, no one could. She would bring you up in any context or situation, always speaking so highly of you. Your boss was taken aback by the sudden shift in her attitude. The same-room-same-bed mistake was indeed just a way to help you resolve your issues but never he expected that the two of you would hit it off so well, let alone dating. Safe to say that no one saw it coming.

"Could you give this to y/n?" "Who?" "y/n" "Ohhh...my girlfriend? Sure, will do." throwing 'the bomb' like that so randomly, obviously left your boss thinking she was just joking. No one actually believed her until you confirmed it.

✩ coworker!ellie couldn't stop yapping about you to everyone in your workplace (and outside), it was almost nauseating how much of a lovesick girl she became overnight, shocking. No one could stand her ass for more than two seconds. Constantly talking and rambling about how perfect and beautiful you were, how good you were in what you did — basically acting like a proud girlfriend, showing you off at any chance she got.

✩ coworker!ellie wears one of those customized 'i love my gf' shirts with your face just to embarrass you.

"Ellie, what. the. fuck. are you wearing?" you wanted to be mad, pissed, but it was genuinely funny and you found yourself unable to contain your laughter. She looked utterly stupid in that but you couldn't help but smile. "Told you, not gonna keep you a secret. Everybody needs to know." and she was so dramatic about it, making a bunch of customized things with your face. Shirts, boxers (which you really liked), mugs that she'd keep in her office, either to use them or to just put all her pens in, jackets, anything.

✩ coworker!ellie was always sticking to you like glue, never leaving your side no matter where you were. She would follow you around the office like a puppy, her hands always on your body. You couldn't have a conversation with anyone without her hovering nearby, listening in. She would steal quick kisses from you whenever she got the chance, be it in a meeting or in the presence of others.

Dina stood casually leaning against the doorframe, her eyes fixed on the scene in front of her. Jesse, her boyfriend, emerged from his office with a broad grin on his face, looking a little bemused. Dina couldn't help but smirk "You owe me 50 bucks," she announced, her voice ringing with the sound of victory. Jesse looked at her with a mixture of disbelief and amusement. "You saw it coming?" he asked her incredulously, raising an eyebrow. The brunette shrugged, the smirk still firmly in place on her face. "It was bound to happen at some point," she stated "and I won, so...50 bucks." She held out her hand, waiting for Jesse to hand over the cash. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile at his girl's enthusiasm. "Fine, you win," he said, handing over the money. "And you're taking me out for dinner tonight," she added with a grin, her tone smug. "Anything for you, my love,"

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yesihaveaobsession · 1 month

Text

The Bet

Drunk! Alastor x female reader

Summary: The patrons beg alastor to join them on their night out after what seemed like forever he finally agrees, he gets drunk and you lose a bet leaving you having to take care of him and be his personal body guard you do all of it in heels.

Warnings: mentions of drinking, alastor is very flirty when intoxicated and touchy.

CREDIT: TO ORIGINAL OWNER OF DRAWING

It was Charlie's idea; she thought it would be a good idea for Alastor to join them in a night of fun beyond the town. She begged and pleaded with the deer demon, and he finally agreed after she said that the activity was a bar. You were quite surprised. Alastor eventually said yes because, sure, he drank his brown liquor, but that wasn't often. But seeing the way his eyes lit up at the word 'bar'... you had thought he would only have a drink or two, say he pleased the Princess, then leave... Oh boy, you were wrong.

Charlie, you, Angel Dust, and the others sat at a table, music filling the air around you all, and each had your own drinks. Everyone was dressed up slightly more than usual, basically a different top. But since Alastor was ALWAYS dressed to impress, he wore his usual pinstripe suit. You wore a nice cocktail dress with heels. You were not dressed to impress; Angel Dust helped you pick out an outfit because you were struggling, and this is what you both agreed on.

Angel, with a mischievous smile, said, "How much you wanna bet that Smiles is gonna get black out drunk?"

"I don't think so," you argued. He always seemed collected and was barely found at the hotel's bar, so what made Angel Dust think that he was going to?

"Wanna bet?" Angel inquired. And you shook on it. You were wrong, VERY WRONG. When the night came to an end, Alastor was on a barstool, slumped over. You cursed at yourself and, frankly, the others for leaving you with the very much drunk deer demon.

"Jesus Al, I wasn't expecting you to handle liquor like a sailor," he looked at you with hooded eyes, his radio-filter seeming to be gone and just a slurry mess. Alastor chuckled softly. "Oh, but isn't it delightful to let loose every once in a while? Besides, I'm rather skilled at handling my liquor, don't you agree?" His smirk was strained slightly.

"You're something," you said, slapping money down on the counter and helping him off the barstool, his tall figure slumped onto you, causing you to let out a squeak as you tried to hold him up without ending up falling to the floor due to your choice in footwear. Once you got a good grip on him and he wrapped his long arm over your shoulder, the two of you slowly and steadily made your way out from the bar.

As the two of you made your way through the horrid streets of Hell, he looked over at you with a mischievous grin and leaned close to your ear, whispering, "You know, my dear, I must say you make quite the striking figure," Alastor remarked. You couldn't help but blush at his words, but you knew he was drunk and all the things he was talking about weren't true, at least some things.

You shook your head to rid of the thoughts and focused on the task at hand. You realized that he was much more vulnerable in his current state of mind, so you paid close attention to your surroundings. After what seemed like FOREVER, you two finally made it back to the hotel; we aren't going to talk about what a struggle that was.

Alastor's eyes remained heavy-lidded, his smile a close-lipped smile as he looked at you. You had him lean up against a wall, to be honest, to give you a break and let yourself recompose before you moved forward. He looked over at you, his grin widening, and he watched your every move, lifting his hand and beckoning softly. You sighed and walked over to him, and he hiccupped in between his breaths. You noticed that his finger trailed down your chest after being left on your cheek for a short while. You grabbed his claw, which was way too big for you, and pulled it away, your face turning red again.

"I've had quite a night, haven't I?" He said, and you only nodded, then wrapped his long arm around and over your shoulder and helped him off the wall; his weight landed on you again, and you let out a huff; he was not light. He let out a giggle, "You know... maybe we should..." You stopped him and said, "No, no, you need sleep. I know you barely sleep, but that's what you need."

Alastor then smiled playfully and moved his claw down to your waist, pulling you closer to him; this new position between you two was not comfy, but he didn't care; you just focused on not taking both of you out. "Alright, alright... I'll behave."

Still leaning heavily on you as you two stumbled into his room, you didn't think much about him not having a bed, so you had a couch in the room, so you plopped him down on it, fixed your dress, ran a hand through your hair, and let out a breath. He grinned up at you, slowly taking you in. You pulled one of his chairs from the other side of the room and dragged it in front of him; his red eyes continued to watch your every move; you soon sat down in front of him and patted your leg for a sign to have him put his shoed foot on your leg; after a few tries of telling him, he does, and his boots were hard to get off.

"Point your foot," you instructed, and he only let out a soft laugh and does point his foot, and you take it off.

"Dear..." He slurred. You didn't answer as you focused on your task. Alastor hiccupped, and that's what got your attention. "My dear, I must admit, tonight has been quite the delightful surprise. Perhaps I shall have to indulge in such outings more often."

"Please don't." You gave a polite smile and pushed off his red suit coat and placed it on a hanger and placed it in his closet, then draped a blanket over him.

"You better be asleep by the time I come back and check on you." You threatened; you couldn't believe this, but he looked adorable. "Yes, ma'am." You then left him to rest.

#alastor #hazbin hotel #alastor x you #the radio demon #hazbin alastor #alastor imagine #alastor x reader #i have an obsession

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hoeforalbedo · 3 months

Text

Dolly (Pt 2)

Human Alastor x Housewife!Reader

Pt 1, Finale

Tw: Murder, Forced Cannibalism, reader is described as a woman, dumbifying reader, mention of pregnancy, pregnancy.

Note: I guess I’m making this a series? I really want them to meet in hell. Also I really haven’t made it obvious bc I don’t want to erase Alastor being aroace. The way I see it, he’s kinda just toying with reader and grew obsessed once reader became a murderer.

———————————————————————

The morning after your delightful meal, you found yourself puking your guts out. The food did not agree with you at all. You wonder how Alastor’s body did not reject your food. Maybe it was all guilty’s conscience, but you’re not guilty for what you did.

Alastor holds your hair back, rubbing small circles on your back. “Oh my, what a way to start the morning. It makes me wonder if you’re perhaps pregnant.”

You shoot him a look, “Please do not say that, I beg of you.” No, you’re not pregnant, and Alastor knows you’re not pregnant. But if you are. . . That means you’re all to himself. You will have no choice but to depend on him even more. Even if you decided one day to leave him, you can’t. Nobody other man wants a tainted woman with children. Maybe one day he should get you pregnant.

Oh he absolutely knows that his dear wife has committed something awful and he’s proud of you, although he won’t admit it, yet. For now, he’s here to support you through the aftermath of your actions.

He could even recall his first kill, it was messy and uncoordinated, and the gore did not sit right with his stomach. But he hopes that his wife does not meddle in the business no longer. All you must do is sit pretty and be the doll you are. The sweet wife who cleans the house and cooks for him and cares for him dearly while being oblivious to the fact that your husband is out and about, killing many people.

But he’s curious. You might be just like him and the thought of that makes him want to grasp you in his hands tightly. To keep you all to himself and keep you away from anything that could take you away from him. At the same time, he wants to test you, push you further into insanity until there’s no more turning back and you’re addicted to the feeling of blood on your hands.

You’ve made a decision, you’re going to confess to Alastor. You can’t just keep him the dark about what you’ve done. “Alastor dear, so about Linda. . . I’ve. . .”

“No need to say more, ma cheri. I know.” He says, acting sympathetic towards you. He pulls you into a hug and you can’t help but burst into tears. He pats

“My dear, you’ve had such a bad morning so I believe you should go out and treat your pretty self with something,” He hums, combing your hair back.

“But-“

“I insist dear. Allow me to tend to the home and when you get back, you’ll be treated to a nice meal. How does that sound?”

Your lips pursed in thought. “Fine, but only because you insist.”

The phone rings.

“I’ll take that, mon cheri. Now I’ll allow you to get yourself all pretty and I’ll get you some money for you to spend.” He kisses your head and leaves you be.

———————————————————————

An outing is just what you needed, although it was not to relieve your nerves. You only felt guilt for having stained your hands with red. That matters not, anymore. Alastor says to relax and enjoy your outing and that is what you’d do.

Now that you’re out, Alastor prepares to go out. He puts his gloves, “I should prepare a freshly cooked meal for my dear wife. It’s about time I went hunting.” He hums to himself and leaves the house.

———————————————————————

The sound of chopping is heard through the kitchen. Chopped vegetables are put aside and Alastor is seen kneading a sort of meat. After he’s satisfied, he chops the meat and sets it aside.

“Let us see,” He says, squatting down to the body by the kitchen island. He reaches inside the abdomen, a squelch being heard as his hands move deeper. “Ah, there it is!” He says cheerfully as he cuts out the intestines.

After squeezing the contents out of the intestines, he looks up at the clock. “Oh dear me! It’s about time my dear Y/N comes home!”

It’s already 5 and he expects you to be home in about an hour.

He continues to grind away the other organs and meat before stuffing the intestines, making the sausages for the jambalaya.

After an hour has passed, you are back home. As you were about to reach for the handle, the door opened, revealing Alastor. “Welcome home ma cheri!” He greets you with a smile, pulling you in for a hug. You reciprocate and kisses his cheek. “What have you got there?” He asks, motioning to the bags.”

“Oh I’ve only bought a few dresses. Nothing out of the ordinary,” You shrug, putting the bags down.

“Then I should expect a show from you then, is that correct? Give me a little twirl in each dress?” His voice deepens as he tilts your head up to look at him.

“If that’s what my dear husband wants,” You say, almost as if you’re purring.

Alastor hums in approval and pulls your lips into a kiss. His arm around your waist, pulls you in, pressing your body against his. “Oh my pretty doll, you’ve got me all distracted.”

“And it is my fault?” She chuckles.

“Yes dear, it’s your fault for being so gorgeous, however I cannot complain about that. Come now, I’ve made jambalaya. Let us eat before it gets cold.”

You follow him immediately to the dining room. “How I love jambalaya. I’m grateful you’ve introduced me to one of your favorites.” You smile as you sat down. “You didn’t put shrimp?” You ask.

“I’ve decided to add some meat instead,” Alastor says, placing some food on your plate.

“Well anything you cook is delicious. I’ll enjoy every bite!” You beam.

The two of you continue to eat and chat. While doing the dishes, the door bell rings. “I wonder who that might be?” You say confused, not expecting any visitors.

Alastor goes to the front door and opens it with a smile. “Hello, how can I help you fine gentlemen?”

“We’re with the police, I’d just like to ask about your neighbors.” One of the officers say.

“Well of course!” Alastor remains to smile, however he is irritated, not that anyone notices.

“Who is it Alastor, dear?” You say, walking behind him. “Oh! Well hello officer!” You immediately put a bright smile. Alastor wraps an arm around your waist.

“Yes, you must be this fine gentleman’s wife. We’d just like to ask if you folks know anything about Mrs. Linda and perhaps Mr. Connor?” The officer asks.

“Connor? Well what could have possibly gone wrong?” Alastor says in confusion.

“Well officer, last night we got a call from dear Connor and just earlier before that, I believe during the afternoon, Linda paid me a small visit,” You answer.

“Is that so? Well ma’am, did she enter the home?”

“Yes she did. Just for a couple minutes though.”

“Anything in particular happened? Arguments, anything?” The officer pushes on.

“Oh of course not! Linda and I may only be acquaintances but I do not harbor such ill feelings for her.”

Alastor squeezes your waist, “You see, my dear wife is far too good for her own good. Far too oblivious to the world, but who can blame her. She’s a doll after all.”

You smile at the officers, looking very innocent.

“Why, I see why you married such a beautiful lady,” The officers chuckles. “Well did she say anything before she left?

“No sir. . . Well she did complain about how she suspects her husband of have a mistress,” You answer.

Alastor adds, “The couple do tend to have a tendency for infidelity. There’s neighborhood rumors of one of the kids not even being Connors’! It’s no surprise though. They say Linda sleeps with other men.”

You gasp, “You mean that man she was with that one day-!”

“Oh no need to worry your pretty little head about it. That is not our problem,” Alastor says.

“And the call you received from Mr. Connor?” The officer asks.

“Oh he just called to thank my dear wife for her generosity. She was kind enough to bake the family a pie. She’s a rather good cook,” Alastor answers with a smile.

“Well you see, both of the couples are missing and have left their kids unattended.”

“Oh that’s awful! Are they okay?” You ask with worry.

“They sure are. If you happen to hear anything about them, please do give a call, thanks for your time,” The officer nods and leaves.

After Alastor closes the door, you immediately broke into a sob. “They’re out to get me Alastor! They’ll get me!” You cling to him.

“My dear you won’t, I promise you they won’t. I’d do anything,” Alastor says in a hushed voice.

“I-I’m the last to have seen Linda and Connor! Now Connor is gone too! What if they think I am the one who killed him!” You cry hysterically.

“My dear, have you not seen yourself? No one would believe that a small thing like you could have possibly killed someone,” he reasons.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course dear.”

———————————————————————

“Must you really go, Alastor?” You plead, grabbing his hand.

“I’m afraid I cannot skip out on work today, mon cheri. But what if they get me? What if I can’t see you again?” You say with worry.

Alastor chuckles. Your clinginess used to be something that annoyed him but not finds adorable. “Remember what I said last night?”

You nod.

“So you’ll let me go right?”

You nod and let go of his hand.

“Good. Now I’ll be back later, my dear.” He kisses your forehead and walks out the door.

He in fact did not come home that night. He was found dead, a bullet to his head. You never landed on the suspect list, as Alastor was found to be the serial killer of New Orleans.

#alastor x you #hazbin alastor #alastor x reader #alastor #hazbin x you #hazbin x y/n #hazbin hotel x y/n #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor

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anantaru · 4 months

Note

What would be genshin men(of ur choice) reactions when you leave them hard and desperate?

Also love ur work💗

including. wriothesley, ayato

cw. you leave them hard and desperate, lots of teasing, dry humping, needy & dom genshin men, fem! reader

— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱

from your yielding touches to the pliant bends of your hand palming wriothesley's bulge, he finds himself leaning back into the pillows with one arm lazily concealing his flushed expression. the room felt hot and sticky too, and with each never-ending squeeze of your palm stroking his clothed cock, he throbs in your hand.

for some reason, watching wriothesley slowly falling apart because of you was surely addictive, consuming as it had no grounds being that attractive, that desirable— in fact, his pants were still on, only his belt had been unbuckled to somehow soften the harshness of his shaft straining against the rough material.

"fuck— you always know how to get me real good," wriothesley huffs out with a messy grin, mumbling the unspoken words of love in every moan as his breath hitches and falls into his words.

you lean your face into his neck to smear a couple wet kisses on the skin, "’just need you baby, can't take it like that forever,"

your warmth on his neck was setting his loins on fire, and your eyes following his every twitch and turn was purely mesmerizing as wriothesley began to hump your palm, repeatedly bottoming into your hand as you nibble on his jaw— the lewdest, most desperate faces manifesting on your boyfriends handsome features, "i want you s-so badly," he groans, barely, before you slope your lips from his jaw to the shell of his ear.

"ahh, that was fun!"

you giggle apathetically, "gotta go now baby, see you later," and stop your movements, stilling your hand before pulling it off his groin and by that point, wriothesley could barely breathe evenly nor keep his eyes open for a longer period of time, although now he looks at you in disbelief as you move from the bed towards the drawer to grab your stuff.

"huh, fuck— w-what?" he hisses, the pain in his groin aching,

"babe? wait, babe."

you sigh innocently and lick your lips, "yes?"

wriothesley can tell now, finally, understand what this was all about and no, he wasn't mad or anything, not at all, despite his pulsing cock still being hard and erected, he found himself plotting his revenge already.

the man smirks, and it sends a sudden shiver down your spine as he moves from the bed towards your pretty frame, silently cradling your cheek in his palm and stroking the flesh with his thumb,

"going to get you back for that one thousand times worse, you understand?"

— ꒰ AYATO ꒱

"you like playing with fire, i see," ayato murmurs softly as you grind your clothed pussy against his throbbing member— his arms tightly enclosing your waist as you're comfortably settled on his lap, slowly watching the strings of his strong, powerful demeanor trail apart.

"y-yes," you whine, "i need you so badly, please," pseudo innocently pretending to be at his full mercy as you sob into his neck, your hips gradually picking up on pace as ayato moves you back and forth his straining erection,

he smiles with a firm nod of approval, "do you think you can handle more of this?" ayato asks, pursing his lips together when you roll into him particularly hard— and it felt so good when you angled your pussy into him in that candid way, evidently noticing it inflict something deep on his frame as his eyes roll into the back of his skull.

"of course," you mewl out, drool escaping past your lips, "i can go as long as you want, baby, pinky promise," your words and affirmations catch his muscles within a tremble.

jocularly, the man smirks, squeezing the fat of your ass before making it jiggle underneath his large palms, "i am delighted you feel that way, sweetheart,"

ayato shudders as the tips of your fingers scratch down on his scalp when you push his gaze towards your own, your plump lips ghosting over his jaw as it makes his cock throb.

the yashiro commissioner was so mindless now, piece by piece succumbing to the strapping pleasure as he breathes deep into his chest, his shuddering hands clawing into the flesh of your hips to keep you steady on his shaft.

by now, you can evidently tell his thudding groin has made an entire mess of his boxers, his pre cum smeared everywhere, it's just so filthy and delicious at the same time— in essence, to turn such a commanding, powerful man into something like this was fueling your ego to a much surpassing extent.

you will probably never get over this.

"archons, ayato, you're so nasty, baby," you coo at him, before smiling, "but that's fine, you see, i'll just finish this up later, okay?" you swiftly swathe away his arms and push yourself off his lap as the man shudders from the sudden loss of your heat on his cock.

"hold on, wait," ayato gawks at you, his jaw practically on the floor as he cups his groin and pushes down to maneuver away the sticking garment from his cock, hissing out— and you're hearing how desperate and needy your boyfriend was by just how filthy he reacted to rubbing his own shaft, almost unable to stop,

"w-what's the meaning of this?"

"you see, i am late for work," you claim and put on your jacket— and in obvious truth, you weren't late at all and ayato knew that as well, he wasn't stupid, you were probably going to arrive there a lot earlier now,

"not this again," ayato sighs, "how did you make me fall for this a second time?" he swipes his tongue against his lips as he realizes that you managed to use him like a marionette, and you adore being his puppet master, just yearned to amuse yourself with those cunning charms on him.

"but i'll see you later?" you ask without airs, eyeing the exit before ayato grabs a hold of your wrist, daintily moving you back on his lap.

"easy now," he whispers before tapping his lips once, twice, with his pointer finger, reminding you that you had forgotten to give him a goodbye kiss.

he grumbles, "you can't just go like that, without properly saying goodbye," the man continues, sassy nuances in his tone, "you will definitely see me later, love,"

your legs writhe a little from the situation he had you in— and seeing your boyfriend like this, despite his facial expression still being bathed in bliss, he never let go off his dominance that it was almost enough for you to give in.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #wriothesley x reader #ayato x reader #wriothesley smut #ayato smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #wriothesley x you #ayato x you #genshin impact drabbles #genshin drabbles

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itgetsdark-x · 2 months

Text

Something In Your Mouth

Summary: what’s a little night out if not for a bit of teasing fun with your dad’s best-friend?

Warnings: 18+ minors dni, mentions of alcohol, age gap (Joel’s age unspecified), oral (m receiving), unprotected p in v (do better!!), edging, orgasm denial, forced orgasm (kinda), use of good girl etc, mild humiliation / degrading. idk i feel a lil unhinged with this one besties.

Characters: dbf!joel miller x (f) reader

Word Count: 5.3k

You pressed your glossy lips together to ensure that the hot pink covered every area of your pout and you smiled at your friend in the reflection of your bedroom mirror.

“Girl, I’m telling you… Tonight is the night that I finally fuck Joel Miller.” You smirked, taking the bottle from your friend, Sasha’s hands and taking a long swig of the warming liquor.

“Ha! Yeah right… Are we on about the same Joel Miller here? Your dad’s friend, the single father himself and what’s that? Oh yeah, he’s ancient, old enough to be your own dad! He won’t touch you, jailbait, give up.” She laughed again as your flipped her off.

“Sash, I am in my mid-twenties, closer to thirty than I am twenty. Not to mention, I’m hot okay?! There are worse women Joel could sleep with. I’m just saying… I think it’s a good idea. I just get big dick energy from him y’know? I mean, have you seen his hands?! His fingers. I actually feel like if I don’t have him soon, I’m gonna go legally insane.” You huffed.

Sasha shook her head as you stood from your bed to get changed. You flung your comfy t-shirt and shorts into your friend’s direction and grabbed the outfit you had hung on your door. Tonight’s attire was an ensemble of a black leather skirt, hot pink tank top and your trusty platform Doc Marten boots.

“Be fucking real right now, that is not your underwear of choice for the evening!” Sasha all but screeched as she caught a glimpse of your undergarments as you began changing your outfit.

“What?!” You asked with feign innocence.

“You’re wearing a hot pink thong with matching bra. Please tell me this is not for Miller.” She sighed with exasperation, pinching at the bridge of her nose.

“Maybe it is… but hey, if Joel doesn’t want some tonight I’m sure some other lucky guy will appreciate the efforts I have gone to.” You shrugged, winking at your friend. “Now, how ‘bout you quit your judging and get changed so we can get to the bar! The girls are meeting us there.”

Sasha groaned with effort as she stood and joined you in getting changed.

———

The bar was busy, you were meeting your friends there to celebrate your upcoming birthday which meant your father was going to be there and in turn, so was Joel. You weren’t a complete idiot, you knew that trying to get with Joel was a huge risk for you both; if your father ever found out, you would most likely be forbidden to ever leave your apartment ever again and well, you couldn’t even imagine what your dad would do to Joel.

Which also meant you had to be calculated with how you went about it; no blatant flirting or teasing in front of your dad, you had to play your cards right, keep them close to your chest.

As soon as you and Sasha arrived into the dimly lit bar, your friends herded over to you and enveloped you in a big hug. You squealed with delight and greeted them all individually before your dad walked over, with the older Miller in tow close behind.

“There’s my princess, happy early birthday, sweetheart.” Your dad beamed, hugging you and kissing your temple.

“Thanks dad, and thanks for actually showing up! I know hanging out with us girls isn’t at the top of your Friday night agenda. Same for you Joel, thanks for coming.” You smiled bashfully at him before he closed the space between you both and gave you a quick squeeze.

Your head span and you could feel your heart threatening to beat right out of your chest, his heady cologne drowning your senses and driving you mad. It was an immediate effect and you couldn’t stop the way your core throbbed at the contact.

“Gotcha a drink darlin’. Happy early birthday.” He flashed a smile in your direction and gave you a glass filled with amber-coloured liquid. “Yes, it’s our favourite. Southern Comfort and lemonade.”

You grinned at him and took a swig of the drink gratefully, just as you turned to talk to your father again, you were almost certain you could feel Joel’s eyes raking over your body with hunger.

———

As the night wore on, the drinks flowed and the laughter grew rowdier and louder as the music in the bar was turned up. You were dancing with a couple of your friends, every now and then your eyes would catch Joel’s; he sat at the bar talking to your dad and nursing his whiskey.

“Sash, did you see the way he keeps looking at me? And earlier? Please tell me you saw that!” You whined.

“Ugh. God. I hate to feed your delusions but I did see it and I see it now. Even with your back turned, he’s watching you. Fuckin’ weird and intense, it’s like a predator with his prey. Waiting to strike.” She huffed, voice just loud enough for you to catch over the pop music playing.

“Okay… But why is that hot as fuck?” You laughed, throwing your head back as your danced. “I just need my dad to clear off, I love him but I can’t hit on his friend when he right there. That would be weird.”

You carried on dancing, with your friends and even with a couple of men when they tried it; you couldn’t help but notice the way Joel’s stare seemed to intensify when any man came near you, it made you smile to know that he was watching you.

One particular man caught your attention, he was similar to you in age, as far as you assumed and he was handsome, definitely easy on the eyes but nowhere near anywhere as good as Joel. He smirked at you from the bar and closed the distance between you until his hand was on your hip and he was dancing with you. You smiled sweetly at him, peering up at him through your lashes as you brought your thumb up to your glossy lips to suck on it seductively. You flashed a glance over to Joel who looked like he was ready to kill.

Bingo. You thought to yourself and danced with the handsome male in front of you, the music boomed and you swayed your hips against him, you span yourself around so you could press your ass to his crotch and you smirked over at Joel once again who was now alone at the bar. Your fingers clutched your glass as you wrapped your lips around the thin, red straw and sucked up the cool drink.

Joel quirked a brow at you, with a look that you couldn’t quite place, it seemed to settle somewhere between lust and utter disdain for you. You gave him a little wave and turned back to face the man you were dancing with, you looped your arms loosely around his neck and continued to dance along to the loud music.

The nameless man leant down and whispered into your ear, the music distorted his voice but he said something about leaving with him which caused you to giggle. You got up onto your tiptoes to whisper back into his ear but felt a foreign hand pressed against the small of your back. The guy you were just dancing with backed away with his hands held up in innocence.

“Hey!” You turned around with a deep frown. “Oh… hey, Joel.” You smiled.

“Your daddy left a little while ago, he saw you dancing and didn’t want to… disturb since you seemed busy…” He scoffed.

“Well I was a lil busy, and now he’s gone. Whatcha want?” You huffed.

“Don’t fuck around, little girl. We both know what you’re playin’ at.”

“What?!” You asked with feigned innocence.

“Darlin’” he warned lowly in your ear, his voice sending shivers through you. “You’re out here, shakin’ your ass for everyone.”

“And? Last time I checked, I’m single, of age and having a bit of fun. Is that not allowed, Mr Miller? Not even on my birthday?” You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes at him.

Joel scoffed and rolled his eyes at you, this fake-innocence crap wasn’t getting anywhere with him and he knew you were doing it to get a reaction from him.

“You’re being a little tease, darlin’ and I think you know it.” He growled, his voice low in your ear.

You swallowed roughly, even with the drinks you had, your mouth suddenly felt impossibly dry with nerves. You shook your head to Joel and he just chuckled.

“No, no… You know what you’re doing, I know you’ve been trying to get my attention all night and well, congrats. You’ve got my attention. So what now? What do you want, hm?” He asked, leaning back to gauge your reaction.

“I — I, I want -“ You stumbled over your words dumbly, without a coherent sentence forming.

“Hm?” He hummed, he took your hand and trailed it down his hard chest, down his stomach and let it graze across his crotch.

Even with barely touching him, you could feel the hard length of his cock through the rough material of his worn jeans. You pushed your legs together in the vain hope of staving off the throbbing between them, you could feel your panties get slick as you imagined sinking to your knees and sucking Joel.

“Funny, you seemed to be playing the big girl earlier, princess. Dancing with anyone, swinging your ass and hips for them. What’s the matter? Cat gotcha tongue now?” He smirked, his voice a soft coo in your ear.

“I want you to fuck me.” You blurted out, unceremoniously and immediately, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. “I mean, I uh — ignore me. I’m gonna go find my friends.” You muttered.

Joel shook his head and held onto your elbow roughly. “Come home with me then, darlin’. My truck is parked out back.”

“You’ve been drinking, I’ve had some drinks. One, I don’t wanna die in your rust-bucket truck and two, this is stupid. I’m being stupid.” You spoke quickly.

“Firstly, I’m gonna ignore you just called my truck a rust-bucket, that’s a whole other conversation and two, I’ve had two drinks, perfectly fine to drive. And as long as you’re sober enough to consent, and you do wanna do this. I think it’s a wonderful idea. Maybe just don’t tell your daddy.” He laughed.

You nodded dumbly, words failing you once again and let yourself be led out of the bar by Joel; you briefly shot a look behind you and for a second, you caught eyes with Sasha who just smirked at you as you left.

—

Joel opened the truck door for you to climb in, you grabbed the handle on the side and hauled yourself in; knowing your skirt would rise and give Joel a quick glimpse of your skimpy fabric.

Joel had to all but bite back a groan as he saw the flash hot pink, the curve of your ass just enveloping the lace as you sat down.

“Fucking hell.” He cursed as he closed the door to his truck and went to the drivers side. “You really are a naughty little tease, aren’t you?” He laughed.

You shrugged at him with a sheepish smile; in truth you weren’t always this bad but tonight it got you exactly what you wanted and you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Joel started his truck and within seconds of driving down the road, you reached your hand across the bench to palm at his cock; your delicate fingers wrapped around his half hard length through his jeans and you couldn’t help but shiver in anticipation.

He felt thick, even when only half hard and your mouth watered at the thought of his thick cock hitting the back of your throat.

“Impatient much?” Joel laughed, flashing a quick smirk in your direction.

“I need to taste you, like, immediately.” You hummed, you knew it sounded cringey and cliche but you needed it more than you could comprehend.

“Maybe let’s wait until we are back at mine — fuck —.” Joel cursed as your fingers quickly undid his jeans and dipped into the waistband of his boxers, albeit a little awkwardly.

“I’m sat here, and I’m wet. I’m talking, on the verge of dripping onto my thighs. I want you. In a way I’ve never wanted a man before so… how about you let me get you warmed up so when we get back to yours, you can have your way with me.” You reasoned, your voice blunt.

Joel couldn’t argue with that reasoning so he gently lifted his ass off the seat to allow you easier access to pull his thick cock out from his boxers. Your fingers expertly wrapped around his length and you marvelled at the fact your finger tips barely met. You stroked his shaft a few times as you felt him fully harden under your touch.

You couldn’t help but giggle; it was immature and girlish but in this moment, you felt giddy. You awkwardly repositioned yourself so you could duck your head down and suck the tip of his cock into your wet mouth.

Joel’s fingers tensed on his steering wheel, you could hear the squeak of the leather protest under his grasp as you wrapped your mouth around the male fully and sank your head down, enveloping him further.

You kept a hand wrapped around the base of his cock and bobbed your head slowly, a soft moan being muffled by the fullness in your mouth.

Above you, Joel groaned deeply as your tongue swirled around the tip and you grazed your teeth gently against his frenulum.

“Oh fuck!” Joel cursed out, one hand coming down to grip into your hair tightly; he couldn’t help the way his hand pushed your head down further. “You look so good with my cock in your mouth. Fuck.” He praised, brushing some hair away so he could catch a better glimpse of the sight below him.

You hummed in appreciation as you bobbed your head, your hand moving in perfect synchronicity with your skilled mouth. You removed Joel’s cock with a loud pop and you smirked at the male. You moved to kiss at his neck and your teeth grazed over his ear.

“Tastes better than any sucker I’ve ever had.” You purred, your voice low and sultry.

“You’re trouble.” Joel stated with a soft groan as your lips continued to kiss down his neck and your head travelled down south once more. “But you look so much cuter with something in your mouth, that’s its princess.” He cooed as your mouth sank around his cock once more.

The drive back to Joel’s was a short one, even if he did contemplate driving around the block a couple more times just so he could feel your mouth around him for longer.

Joel pulled into his drive, by this point you were sat up right and running a thumb along your bottom lip to tidy up your lip gloss. Joel tucked himself back into his jeans haphazardly before turning off the ignition to his truck.

“Inside, quickly. I don’t need the neighbours seeing me bringing you home. You know how rumours spread ‘round here.” He mumbled and it was true, most people knew Joel and they in turn, knew your father. You could almost heard the whispers that would spread around this part of town if they caught wind of what you were doing with Joel.

You hopped out his truck and walked to his front door ahead of him, making sure to keep a clear distance from the older male; no matter how hard your fingers were itching to explore his body.

Joel held onto the small of your back as he quickly unlocked his front door and ushered you into the familiar space.

“Upstairs. You know where my room is.” He stated bluntly as he removed his boots.

You nodded without another word and silently went up the stairs; you may have been playing the confident card in the truck but now that you were here, now that you were in his house, your hands were shaking with nerves and anticipation.

Joel entered the room a mere few seconds later and he smiled at you.

“So you’re not that much of a little brat that you can follow basic instructions.” He cooed.

You nodded, biting on your lip as you watched Joel effortlessly remove his t-shirt. Just as you pictured it; his chest was tanned and peppered with soft white hair. Further down his stomach as a groomed line of dark hair that disappeared under his waistband.

“What’s the matter, little girl? Not so brave now?” He smirked, closing the distance between you to hold your chin roughly between his finger and thumb.

He ducked his head down and kissed you roughly; it was an unceremonious clash of tongues as you kissed him back with intense fervour.

“That’s what I thought.” He whispered against your lips and let go of your face. “Take off your clothes. Leave on your underwear, I wanna be the one to remove that from you.” He commanded, kicking off his own jeans and sitting on the edge of his bed.

You suddenly felt self conscious, you could feel the burn of his gaze as you stood in front of him. You turned your back to him as you slowly undid the zip on your skirt and bent down to remove it.

Behind you, Joel had pulled his cock from his boxers and was stroking himself as you removed your clothes. Once your shirt was removed, you span back round to face the male and gently crossed your legs as you watched him.

“Fucking look at you.” He groaned, as his cock gently fucked into his fist. “Thought about your body so many times, knew I shouldn’t. Knew it was wrong but look at you, c’mhere.” He mumbled.

You felt your cheeks burn in embarrassment at his confession; it soothed your nerves as you realised the attraction was mutual between you both. Joel sat back a little and tapped his lap; you got the idea quickly and straddled him.

You cock feel his swollen cock rub against your clothes heat and you whined weakly at the contact.

“Please don’t tease me.” You whispered, looping your arms around his neck as Joel’s hands settled onto your soft hips.

“‘M not gonna tease you…” he smirked, his eyes lit with mischievous intent. “But I bet you could cum just from rubbing yourself on my cock. Since you seemed to want it so bad at the bar, trying to get my attention. Well guess what, little girl, you got it. Now keep it.” He hummed.

“Joel —“ you protested, to which he raised a brow at you in question.

You pushed your hips forward so the tip of Joel’s cock nudged your damp panties, it nudged your clit and you gasp as you began to rut your hips back and forth.

“Such a needy little girl, aren’t you? So needy for your daddy’s best friend that you’ll rub against his cock like a good little bitch.” He cooed, holding your cheek tenderly as his condescending words fuelled your hips to move faster.

“Not enough.” You whimpered, your hands scratching at Joel’s back for more leverage. “Need you in me, please. I need to feel your fingers inside of me.”

Joel smirked and pressed two digits into your mouth without warning; you quickly sucked them in, your tongue swirled around them until they were coated with your saliva.

“Is that what you mean, princess? My fingers are inside of you.”

You shook your head no as your hips moved desperately, the hot pink fabric of your lace thong was ruined; it was dark in colour as your arousal soaked the fabric.

“Then what is it you mean? Tell me what you want.” Joel said quietly, removing his fingers from your mouth. A long ling of spittle keeping you connected to the older male.

“Need your fingers in my pussy; need to feel them inside of me as I cum. P-please.” You whined, your voice sounded wrecked already as your hips stuttered against Joel’s cock.

Joel dipped his fingers into the front of your lace panties, they were slick from your spit and they glided through your wetness with ease.

He let out a moan as he felt your wetness soak his fingers further; his fingers circled around your clit with skill and your mouth fell agape with intense pleasure.

You screwed your eyes shut as his fingers sped up to rub over your clit.

“Oh that’s it, good girl. So wet for me, aren’t you? This all for me?” He hummed.

You nodded, as your back arched away from the man so he could gain better access to your front. Joel continued to speed his fingers up; he watched your every movement; every heave of your chest, every gasp or twitch of your arm and he knew you were getting close.

“Tell me when you’re going to cum.” Joel whispered, dropping his head down to kiss at your bra-clad chest.

“I’m close, Joel. So fucking close.” You whimpered, you were barely making a noise.

“That’s it, atta a girl.” Joel praised.

“I — I’m gonna, I’m gonna, fuck!” You screeched, the raw noise ripping from your throat as Joel removed his fingers from your panties at precisely the wrong moment.

He smirked at you, his mannerism teasing and cruel.

“What the fuck?” You squeaked, your eyes wide and your chest still heaving.

“Well I didn’t say you were going to cum, did I?” Joel stated.

“Please.” You pleaded, your eyes searching for mercy in him.

“Lay down on the bed for me.” Joel whispered, tapping your ass gently.

You felt dumb, your body was tingling all over from the overstimulation and lack of orgasm and you moved without knowing how you were doing it. You laid down onto Joel’s bed, your back resting up against his pillows.

It took everything in you to not turn your head into the soft pillows, breathe in his scent and fuck yourself right there. You felt like a horny teenager who couldn’t ever satisfy themself.

Joel fully kicked off his boxers and knelt beside you, he motioned his finger in an upwards movement and you sat up for him. Quickly, he removed your bra and your chest gently fell from the hot pink fabric. He gently pushed you back onto the bed and then worked to remove your panties, they too were discarded with the rest of your clothes on the floor.

“Now, where were we?” Joel smirked before he trailed his fingers back between your legs.

Instinctively, you spread them for him as he worked over your clit again; within seconds, the pressure was there once again and you tightly gripped at the sheets below you.

“Joel —“ you whined. “Please. Please, I am begging you, please let me cum.”

“Now where’s the fun in that, little girl?” He murmured menacingly.

You closed your eyes and willed yourself to not burst into tears there and then; the pleasure you were feeling was intense, Joel’s fingers moved expertly to bring you close to your orgasm and then there was the humiliation of him denying you the thing you wanted most.

Joel was watching you intensely, he was picking up on every little micro movement your body made or didn’t make, he was calculating when to stop his movements or when to speed them up. Bringing you right up to the edge, almost letting you peer over it but then pulling you right back again; never quite letting you topple into ecstasy.

He had done this three or four times now and the noises that left your body no longer sounded like your own; they were wrecked sobs of desperation as your arousal coated your thighs and left a wet spot behind in your wake. You could barely remember your own name or where you were anymore; Joel had messed with your mind.

“Please.” You pleaded to Joel, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Please let me cum, I can’t — I can’t take anymore.” Your eyes were glassy with tears at the intensity of Joel’s actions and your own frustration as you experienced another ruined orgasm.

You knew if you really wanted this to stop, you could stand up, get dressed and walk away but you didn’t want that. Joel Miller had rotted your brain and you were fixated under him, completely at his will.

Joel smirked at you again, that same look he kept giving you; it was smug, it was infuriating and it turned you on even more.

“Look at you, princess. You’re a mess.” He whispered, his spare hand brushing a strand of hair away from your features. “So wet and messy for me, hm? Are you sure you can even cum now? Do you know what to do?”

You nodded eagerly at the older male, your eyes pleading silently as your mouth was hung open in constant pleasure.

Joel didn’t say a word, instead he sunk two fingers into your hole without warning; his thumb circled your clit with intense pressure. It was like a million sparks erupted throughout your body; your back arched off the bed, your thighs fell open even further and your walls clenched around Joel tightly.

You could feel yourself flutter and pulsate around the man’s digits as you came. Your eyes were screwed shut and your mouth was open, not a single sound fell from your parted lips apart from the start of a strangled moan. The pleasure, the pure ecstasy, was too intense for you to make a single sound.

Joel pumped his fingers quickly, watching as you came on them.

“That’s it, fuck. So good. Give me another one.” He growled, his arm shaking as he pumped his fingers even faster inside of you; his thumb pass over your clit with each thrust of his digits.

You honestly didn’t know if you could give him another; your body was shaking as you laid there and took what Joel was giving to you. It was intense and never before had you had such a strong orgasm; there were still white flecks dancing around in your vision as your body built up to another orgasm.

Your fingers were clawing at Joel’s arm and you were sure that you had broken his skin as you came on his fingers; there was no telling what would happen when he ripped another orgasm from you.

“Be a good girl and then I’ll give you my cock, come on, princess. I know you can give me another one. I know you’re good enough for that.” He whispered. “Look at what you’re doing to me, baby girl. Look at my cock, it’s leaking for you. So good.”

You peered between your bodies and saw the head of Joel’s cock, it was flushed and there was a dribble of precum falling from the tip and collecting onto the sheets below.

“Ki-kiss me.” You managed to squeak out, your voice shaking as you looked at the older male.

He smiled and happily obliged, your lips met in a sloppy kiss as you felt your body shake more intensely. The tight coil in the pit of your stomach snapped once more and another intense orgasm rippled through you like a shockwave.

“Good. Good girl.” Joel praised against your lips as he worked you through your orgasm.

He pulled his fingers from your hole and rubbed them speedily across your clit, you let out a yelp at the overstimulation and gripped Joel’s arm tightly for leverage.

“I’m gonna —“ you managed to call out before he felt yourself gush onto the sheets below you.

“Oh fuck.” Joel moaned, his cock jumping with arousal as you squirted onto his hand.

“I’m so, fuck —“ you breathed shakily and held yourself up onto your elbows, tears staining your cheeks from the intense pleasure. “Joel, I’m so sorry. Fuck, let me clean up. Fuck.” You cursed, your body shaking as you went to sit up.

Joel chuckled and gently pushed your shoulder back onto the bed with a shake of his head.

“So sexy. Have you ever squirted before?” He asked, finally removing his hand from your throbbing pussy.

You shook your head and he just grinned at you boyishly.

“That’s even hotter, how did it feel, princess? Did you like it?” He asked softly, his fingers tracing soft patterns across your tummy.

You blushed at his words and gently cleared your throat. “I did like it, I didn’t… well I didn’t know I could actually cum that hard. It was intense but amazing.” You said softly, looking up at Joel through your lashes.

“I’m glad.” He smiled. “Look, we don’t have to — well, y’know, we don’t have to have sex. If you’re too stimulated or whatever. I can sort myself out.”

You quickly shook your head and pulled him closer to your naked body.

“No!” You said quickly. “I mean, I am a little over stimulated right now but please, I need to feel your cock in me.”

Joel didn’t need to be told twice and he roughly flipped your body over so your face was against the bed. You gasped under the male, surprised by his strength. Behind yourself, you could feel Joel moving, positioning himself so his cock was nudging against your entrance.

He thrust forward, filling you once again; you were all-consumed with just Joel. The heady scent of him lingered on the bellows below your face, you cunt ached with lingering pleasure of your orgasms and now, you could feel his large hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucked into you with fervour.

“That’s it, sweet girl, taking me so well. So good.” Joel mewled, the praise sending heat through your body once more.

Your fingers clung to the soft fabric of the sheets below you, and you couldn’t help the soft moans that escaped your lips as Joel fucked you.

“So good. F-faster.” You whimpered.

Joel obliged, he sped his hips up and dug his fingers into your hips so hard you felt as if you were going to have bruises there for days.

Joel’s hips began to stutter, his groans grew deeper and you clenched around him, trying to bring him closer to filling you.

“Such. A. Good. Little. Girl.” Joel groaned, each word accentuated by a deep thrust. “This is my cunt now, got it? Hm. All mine. Fuck, you’re so good for me.”

You nodded under him with a soft moan as he bottomed himself out in you, his cock impossibly deep as you felt it twitch before he coated your insides with his hot cum. You whined at the sensation and felt yourself flutter around his pulsing cock instinctively.

“Shit.” He groaned, giving one final sloppy thrust before we collapsed down onto the bed beside you with his chest heaving deeply.

You followed suit, your body finally giving out from under yourself; you grimaced as your body touched the soaked patch on the bed and you began to feel Joel leak from inside of you.

“‘M a mess but so tired.” You yawned, scrunching your face in disgust.

“Let me clean you up.” Joel whispered, stroking your cheek.

He let out a grunt as he climbed off the bed, his limbs aching from the effort. He scooped your body from the mattress and carried you to the bathroom where he sat you in the bath. He turned the shower on and you hummed as the warm water hit your body, not caring your hair and makeup would be a mess.

Joel climbed behind you and gently rubbed your shoulders as the warm water washed away the messes you both made.

A/N: my requests are open again, I can’t promise I’ll always write them really quickly but please send me any ideas of stuff u wanna read <3 love u all <3

#dbf!joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #dbf!joel #joel x reader #joel miller

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sugarandspicewriting · 4 months

Text

This is Modern Feminism Talking!

Summary: Luke takes care of you outside a Halloween party.

A/N: A cute little Luke x Ditzy!Reader blurb. Heavily inspired by Sexy on the Mean Girls soundtrack I’ve been seeing it all over TikTok.

Warnings: Allusions to nsfw themes. Reader is Aphrodite kid coded but it’s never said. She’s also dumb.

“You’ve barely left your cabin and you’re already hurting yourself.” Luke huffs as he inspects the scrape on your knee, both of you sitting on the steps outside of the Aphrodite cabin. There was loud booming music playing inside. Monster Mash was a strange choice for a camp full of demigods, but it was Halloween.

A light breeze floats through camp, and your skimpy body con dress wasn’t keeping you warm. You pouted as you wrapped your arms around your arms and replied. “It’s not my fault. It’s these damn shoes.” You lift your foot up and show him your strappy heels to match your dress.

Luke sighs. The only reason anyone could tell what you were supposed to be were the mouse ears perched on your head.

“Of course baby.” He responds absentmindedly, digging through your purse for a bandaid. He started making you carry them with you after becoming acquainted with how clumsy you could be, and if looked at you for too long with that outfit, he’d have his own problems to deal with.

You gasped in delight when he found one in your bag. Bright pink. Of course. He took the wrapping off and stuck it on top of your scrape. He then lifted your knee up to his lips and placed a kiss on it. “There you go beautiful, all better now.”

As if miraculously healed, you giggled and quickly moved to straddle him. ”Thank you baby! What would I do without you!” You began to press kisses all over his face and he grabbed your hips. Whatever his siblings had snuck into the punch must have been strong. Your lips eventually slotted over his own and your arms around his neck. You sighed in contentment when his hands came up to your arms to sooth the cold. As much as he was enjoying this, he didn’t want you getting sick and he could feel the goosebumps on your arms.

He pulled away and dodged your attempts at another kiss, and tried to ignore your pout. “Cmon sexy mouse, let’s get you inside before you turn into a sexy icicle.”

Your face lit up at the idea of rejoining the party with him, lost kiss seemingly forgotten. You got up at an alarming speed… and promptly fell on your ass after stumbling over your shoes again.

Luke takes a tired breath before helping you up and wrapping an arm around you to keep you upright. You give him an exaggerated kiss on the cheek. “My knight in shining armor” you coo in his ear. “What would I do without you?”

Gods he was so in love with you.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x you

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kneelingshadowsalome · 6 months

Text

Christian Woman

(König x Nun!Reader)

Word count: 6.4 k Tags/warnings: Pining intensifies, religious despair intensifies, minor injuries, treatment of wounds, crying, enthusiastic kissing, König gets a few boners. 18+ for eventual smut in this story.

A/N: Don't tell me you wouldn't get horny scared too if you saw this tall guy suddenly emerging from the shadows in his full war gear :) There's a cute date night and a lot of angst in this chapter too, I tried to summon an actual plot here... As always, I need to explain why they’re bonking! But smut is coming, next and last chapter will be full of fluff and steamy first times (Reader is virgin!)

Part 2

You have a feeling that this is the last day you’ll see him.

The stranger from the Austrian Alps, the kindest mercenary you’ve ever met – the only mercenary you’ve ever met – the giant soldier who now carries a piece of your heart with him. You wonder if he even knows he owns it.

The morning prayers and mass are a chore and bring you no comfort, and the usual dawn bliss is gone. You find no delight in singing with your sisters, and withdrawing to your cell for solitary prayer feels like stepping back inside your own personal purgatory.

You’ve been in heaven and in hell for days now. Maybe since the moment you met him...

But at the same time, you know it must’ve been the Lord who brought you together. There must be a reason for God to make you two meet, you refuse to think it’s only because He wishes to tempt you. There must be a bigger plan; the connection, as sinful and carnal as it is, has to serve some higher purpose.

And you wonder if you’re going mad, because your most sinful thought is that you actually see God in him. It’s just your lower instincts speaking, a demon of some sort that tries to misguide you because no man is like Lord Jesus.

And yet, don’t they always preach that you meet Him in every person you meet? And that through you, other people meet God too…?

This reasoning feels much better. It solidifies the mercy you’ve longed for during the brief weeks you’ve known this man who brashly calls himself König. You want to believe that he carries a spark of the Divine in him, and that you hold a grain of the Virgin Mary’s compassion and love in you.

You decide to hold on to this thought: that you were meant to meet so that you could come to know God through each other. For in König, you see a suffering God, a crucified Christ who rises against evil by offering himself to the cruelty of men. Somehow, the image of him as a mortal man starts to twist into a divine, dark trooper, someone who battles the forces of the evil in this world.

And this reasoning leads you to think that it is only natural that you, a Sister of the Faith, have helped him find some rest and relief in the middle of his work. It’s pretty clear that König has found some solace in your company, and even if things have ventured into a forbidden area of low, simple lust, it’s not dark enough to taint the beauty and grace you've felt together. As long as you hold on to this purity, nothing can go wrong.

While praying for both of you that morning, you find yourself replaying the smiles and touches König has given you these past weeks. You know you will drown yourself in memories after he's gone because they are all you’ll ever have of him.

And they're more than enough.

Or at least they should be…

You feel a tiny dagger of guilt push into your heart, the place reserved for Christ, when you’re assigned to do some spiritual reading instead of helping out in the kitchen or organizing the small library. The appointed texts are about falling into temptation and sin, reminding you about the consequences of such actions. You read the passings with a heavy heart and then slip out to meet König, possibly for the last time.

You wear your everyday clothes to the café, and König says nothing about your sudden moral choice, only gives you another longing, enamored once-over. You keep him at arm’s length, both physically and emotionally, and the effects of this unexpected cold shower are immediate. The man doesn’t even try to disguise the sad, puppy-eyed stares he shoots your way.

You hate it that the bright, playful air of your meetings is gone, and your heart is tearing itself apart in your chest because the only thing you wanted was to spread joy into his world. Even the Lord seems disappointed in you being so cold-hearted, and you can’t bear to see His sadness and suffering in König’s eyes.

You get offered not one, but two coffees today, and a large piece of dark chocolate cake that tastes of pure sin. He talks about how he would love to write to you, but you tell him you can’t be in correspondence with a man who isn’t your brother or father. König isn’t even married, so it would only raise questions – you would find yourself reading spiritual texts about lust and sin until it drives you crazy.

“I’m leaving early tomorrow,” he finally reveals with a voice thick with sorrow. “Can I see you before I go...? One last time?”

“I’d love to, but… I’m sort of being watched,” you say, slowly coming out of your shell to make it clear that you’d want to spend the rest of your life with him, but you simply just can’t.

Your weak, apologetic look is like a dose of confidence shot through his veins because the face opposite of you brightens immediately. König’s whole posture gets a hopeful uplift.

“Just for a little walk...? To see what the city looks like in the evening?”

“I don’t know if I can make it… I have to work until six... And attend the evening prayer at seven. And then silence starts at eight…”

You’re wringing your hands under the table while you explain, hoping König will come up with a solution to this dilemma.

“We can go for a walk after silence, then,” he shrugs.

“I–I can’t just escape from the window.”

“...Why not?”

You look at König; he looks straight back.

The man’s serious about you sneaking out your window at night; he’s actually serious, even if there’s a dark, playful smile rising on his lips.

“I can help,” he grins.

Your heart cracks open, it shoots full of light only more and more with that smile. König doesn’t need to ram a door down and shoot his way through your chest; all he has to do is sneak inside your heart and take the place that belongs to God. You don’t even feel the difference as he makes himself at home.

Well, actually, you do... It’s like your Christ’s love and mercy have finally come to flesh and blood before you. They're materialized in the man sitting opposite of you, bouncing his knee excitedly and grinning like the most innocent little devil on Earth.

You find yourself whispering “Ok”, and the whole world shifts.

You take a step towards something forbidden but great, your whole heart starts to sing along with life. You haven’t even done the actual thing yet but you’re already filled with bubbling laughter and excitement. If only your friend could see you now, about to do things she probably did when she was fifteen...

But everything feels so right that it can’t be a sin – if it is, it just so happens to be the most natural, most divine thing to do too.

If this is the last day you’ll ever see him, you can surely steal a tiny moment for yourself and forget about rights and wrongs for a moment. Just forget about the rules, and live in the actual world for a few hours, breathe the worldly air, see what normal people do and pretend you’re one of them, for just one night.

…

You feel like Cinderella when picking clothes for the evening.

You rummage through the only closet in your room – during the time that should be spent in silent prayer before bed – and notice you still have your old jeans.

They’re light blue and still fit; actually, they fit more than well... You know that König’s eyes will be glued to your butt when you’re not looking.

You have completely forgotten how nice you look in jeans, and it’s the Devil talking, making you admire yourself in tight denim like this. You never cared about how you look before; you certainly never gave much thought to how men see you or if they’re checking out your butt or breasts. Now you’re grooming yourself like never before, trying to decide what to do with your hair as if your life depended on it.

You choose a simple, black t-shirt to pair with the jeans and not make it too obvious that you’re trying to flaunt yourself. It hugs your form but is otherwise plain, and for some people, your choice of clothing is probably their regular work outfit. To you, it feels like you’re about to go out to seduce everyone.

Everything’s so tight and earthly; everything’s so… there. Visible... Touchable.

Lord, have mercy on me. I know I’m weak. But please let me have this, just this once…

And König has seen you without makeup all this time, so what on earth has possessed you to lament the fact that you don’t own a single case of lipstick? You’d kill for a few sweeps of mascara, too, just to bat your lashes at a silly man.

It’s not a date, you remind yourself.

It’s not a date... It’s not a date. You’re just going to have a short walk with him.

And you fear that accepting König’s “help” was a mistake. If you get caught with a man on the convent perimeter, you’ll get your ass thoroughly whooped…

Can a man of his size even keep quiet?

He probably suggested it so that you wouldn’t chicken out of this. If König is at your window by 8 and there’s no sign of you, he’ll probably just come in, throw you on his shoulder and jump out. He knows where your window is located now, and surely has some questionable skills due to his profession, skills you know nothing about, but you’re still about to have a panic attack from pure excitement when the clock strikes 8.

You push the window ajar and settle on the sill to keep watch, gasping when you hear his familiar accent down below as soon as the window is open.

“Kätzchen...”

“König…?”

You peek down and meet his stupid, grinning face – God, he’s so happy to see you kept your promise. His eyes are shining, his fingers interlock to help you have something to place your foot on.

“Here, kitty, kitty…”

You could easily jump out the window without hurting yourself, but of course he wants to help you since you were so kind to tell him where he could come and "pick you up".

But to see that playful smile and hear him trying to coax you out like you’re some skittish little kitten…

Could a grown man get any more silly?

You wiggle yourself out the window, trying to ignore the fact that he’s probably staring at your butt, still grinning like crazy while you do it.

SupportING your entire weight like it’s no trouble at all, he helps you down. You’ve never been this close to him since you bumped into him: you have to take support from his shoulders as you search for a footing, and he scoops you in his arms the minute both your feet are safely on the ground.

“I knew you’d come,” he purrs with joy, and you place your hands on his chest – not to keep him at bay, but to touch him in a way that is as appropriate as possible when a man is hugging you like this.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” you whisper, still unsure if this is the best or the worst decision of your entire life.

“Kitty… Live a little, hmm?”

You have to crane your neck to look up at him – you’re not sure if you’re in the embrace of Jesus or Lucifer because the warmth of those eyes compare to the love of God, but they also make you weak and helpless. Whenever you’re with your sisters, the feeling is pure, pristine love, not a surge of complex emotions and thrill like it is with König.

“You’re a bad influence,” you breathe – König only laughs, and the grip around you tightens.

“My lady. You’re the one who climbed out the window.”

“Because someone would’ve probably thrown small rocks on it if I hadn’t…!”

“Natürlich. And if that didn’t work… A serenade or two. Do you like love songs?”

You look down at his chest, smiling, heart fluttering at the thought of a silly Austrian man serenading under your window. You have no trouble imagining him singing something syrupy in German, waking everyone up with his racket.

“You’re crazy, did you know that...?”

“Sure. They tell me that all the time at work. Aber du… Du bist süss.”

“...What’s that?”

His smile only widens as he takes in your lips, your neck, the tight shirt that finally gives him something more to look at.

“You’re cute.”

…

The whole evening is heavenly.

It’s everything you’ve ever wanted from a date and more.

He doesn’t take you for a short walk, oh no. He takes you out to eat, at some lively restaurant where they serve delicious, artisan, wood-fired pizzas. You have créme brûlée for dessert, and König gives you his strawberries when he notices you eat them first, but only on one condition: you have to let him feed them to you one by one.

He buys you a rose: a big, red, plump one. No man has ever bought you flowers before, and even if you love lush, abundant bouquets, the fact that he chose you a single red rose after you’ve spoken about the beauty of simplicity, doesn't escape you.

König hasn’t only listened to you these past few weeks: he gets you. And how symbolic is it that he chose a rose that’s also tied to all the mysteries of God?

You walk the streets with a flower in one hand and his palm in the other. It's a holy trinity of him and you and the Great Mystery, it’s passion and it’s thorns, it’s blood and beauty and pain, and you feel like he just gets you; he knows you through and through.

You pass by an outdoor bar with live music, and the place is so crowded that people are dancing on the streets. No cars honk as they slowly pass by the scene, the music and the laughing, dancing pairs make even the grumpiest passersby smile.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that König pulls you to him before you get to escape the scene. You’re drawn flush against his chest, hips colliding with his, hands finding each other in a slow sway that has never even seen the steps of Latin dances.

“Nuns are allowed to dance, no?”

He smiles dreamily, enveloped in the same sweet haze as you.

“Not with a man,” you correct, but don’t even bother to push him away. Instead, you let König guide his hand down your waist and draw you closer. If this isn't a date, you don't know what is...

“I can take the blame,” he says. “You can tell everybody it was me.”

“It doesn’t work that way,” you laugh.

“Why not?”

His eyes are glued to yours, making you warm all over, so much so that you feel like you’re burning from the neck up. You guide your stare down to his chest, then over to the quick heartbeat on his neck.

He's nervous, too... Your cruel soldier is nervous, and kind, and shy because he's pressed against you.

You rest your head there on his chest, watching the golden sunset far away, painting the rooftops with a genial glow. Your heart is made of molten gold, too, as you allow yourself find a home in his embrace.

“I can take your sins,” he promises above you. “Jesus did that too, right?”

“You’re not Jesus,” you smile against his shirt – black, always black...

“Are you sure? I would go to hell for you.”

Your dance comes to a halt as you swallow and lift your gaze. The smiles are gone now, both yours and his. He’s so close now he could touch your lips with his if he wanted to.

And he does want to.

You don’t shy away as he leans down to kiss you. It’s chaste at first, a slow exploration, but then he opens your mouth with his, demanding, hot, intoxicating. You melt in his arms, and he somehow supports you through it all, turning the dance into an embrace and the decent little kiss into a full French one.

It’s hot and wet and slow, so, so passionate that your knees are about to give in. You devour him back, feel how he grows hard against your stomach – the swelling erection makes you dizzy before you come to your senses, but only barely.

You break away an inch, panting into his mouth while he’s panting into yours. What a blessing that you don’t own any lipstick; both of your lips are red without it…

“This is–”

“Inappropriate?”

His voice is husky, and sends a flood of wetness down between your legs. Your heart is racing, but you can’t even note how terribly alive you are before he attacks your lips again.

The kiss is even more desperate than the first one, and the slow urgency is gone. His mouth leaves you without air, and then – he wraps his arms around you and picks you up from the ground like you weigh nothing. Your hands get squished somewhere between you, naturally coming to cup his face as you kiss him back.

It’s eager, pure lust, so powerful and needy that it scorches through your chest and ties your heartstrings into tight little knots, makes your brows knit together, too.

He grunts into your mouth, sensing you’re more than up for this after all. You let him see the full depth of your hunger and your lust, just waiting to be released and taken – made love to until you’re both sore and messy and limp.

God… This is better than God…

You hear whistles and whoos in the distance, some men yelling, “Let’s go!” and “Get a room” while they pass by. Realizing you’ve fallen into a dream trap of strong arms and needy lips about to depart tomorrow, you know it's something you could have had years ago, perhaps, but not anymore. You'll lose everything if you break your vows tonight: basically, you’ve already broken them, but no permanent damage has been done.

You can still turn back if you turn back now…

You push yourself away, push him away, heart clenching when you see his adoring, love-drunk, half-lidded stare.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, fighting back tears as you come down from your high. “I just–I can’t…”

He breathes labouriously, still clutching you against him, holding you in the air like you’re the thing he has searched for his entire life and now, finally discovered… Only to be told that he now has to put it back where he found it.

You’re crying by the time he sets you down, and you have no heart or will to pull away. Instead, you bury your face in his chest and cry your fill in his shirt. It’s soon damp from your tears as König hugs and supports you through his own stoic heartbreak.

“I’m sorry... I’m sorry…”

You repeat it until you can’t repeat it anymore, bawling in his chest while the world around you continues to spin despite your heaven and hell, despite your vows, despite your stupid devotion. The world revolves like it always has, as you choose a crucified man over the one who’s flesh and blood and holds you through your pain.

“Kätzchen, don’t cry,” he pets your hair while you sniffle and tremble in his embrace. You know this is not the last time you will cry your heart out over him, but knowing it doesn't help you when he offers you his last, bittersweet comfort.

“It was a good dream while it lasted...”

…

The rose withers in your cell.

You turn it upside down and tie it to the curtain rod to prevent it from dropping its petals. It dries beautifully and keeps its bloodred colour, now reminding you of both Jesus and him.

There hasn’t been a word from König in months, and of course there hasn’t. You denied his wish to write you, and the dried rose is the only thing left of your time with him.

In the first weeks, it’s hard to keep up a charade. You show up to prayer, work and mass with red eyes, revealing to everyone that you’re going through a loss of some sort. Somewhere during the first week, the abbess summons you to meet her and you brace yourself for a scolding.

God knows you don’t need the rebuke, and when you close the door and turn to face the symbolic mother of the convent, you end up breaking into tears right in front of her.

“Whatever you were up to, my child, I am glad that it is over now,” she says with all the gentleness of the world.

“Me too,” your voice breaks, and when the abbess extends her hands, you go to her, fall to your knees, and have another heartwrenching cry with your face in her lap.

You’ve denied yourself love and mercy for days, expecting to be expelled or shamed or ridiculed, but mercy is what you’re offered now, even after you’ve sinned.

The abbess caresses your hair just as softly as König did just days ago, and the fact that her kind gesture reminds you of some silly, infatuated soldier, only makes the breakdown worse. You bawl like a little child who’s deprived of candy, and you don’t even have the strength to berate yourself for it.

“I hope you haven’t done anything irredeemable...?”

“No... Nothing happened,” you sob and look out of the rose window, desperate for sun while your head rests on a gentle but distant lap.

Nothing happened except the most sinful, beautiful, lustful kiss of your life... Nothing happened except that you saw this man every time you could, held hands with him, swam in his smiles and affection, and went to bed with thoughts inappropriate for any human being.

“The world tests us in many ways... But Lord never tests us. He only loves us.”

Something in that sentence finally quenches the neverending flow of tears. Your muscles start to relax, and you remember that this is the eternal truth: to surrender, over and over again, to a power far greater than you.

The abbess never asks for details about what you have done. She never tells you you have sinned; you don’t need to be told that. The punishment has been dealt already: whoever ties herself to this world and its temptations will suffer exactly like this when the passion and excitement ends. The key to escaping its grip is to simply let go first, once and for all, surrender to the love of God, and trust that everything fill fall into place eventually.

“You must offer your mind and body to work now,” the motherly voice speaks above you. “Work, time and prayer will ease your pain.”

…

Work, time and prayer do ease the pain.

They ease all pains, but it takes almost six months to stop thinking about him every hour of every day.

You’re proud of yourself when you find out one day that you haven’t thought about him at all. He just now crossed your mind when you remember how he used to smell: of salty seabreeze mixed with intoxicating musk, the scent of excitement and safety all in one.

You could almost swear you catch a whiff of that particular scent in the yard when you go and water the flowers one evening, but it can’t be: he’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do about it, nothing you even want to do about it because you already made your choice. This path leads you to greater peace of mind in the long run, and you know you made the right decision even if it hurt you and König.

Sunsets still remind you of him, the colour of rose and gold mixed with endings, but the memories are now laced with bittersweet love rather than blunt despair and pain. The times you spent with him are a collection of brief, blissful moments, and you treasure every single one of them in your heart. You still pray for him, not every day, but nearly every day. You touch the rose when the hurt reaches its peak, but the last time you did that was almost a week ago.

And you thought you had forgotten his scent, but apparently, you have not. In fact, it seems to drift to your nose again, which is odd because you’re outside, after all…

“Kätzchen.”

A whisper is hissed from the shadows just as you’re about to straighten and investigate, because either you’re going crazy or then there’s someone here who smells exactly like him.

You startle and almost drop the watering can, staring straight into the shadows under your window. The tallest man you’ve ever seen steps out from the dark in full combat gear, and while you can’t see his face because it’s covered with a draping black hood, you recognize it’s him simply from the way he moves.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s me,” he rasps and tries to straighten from the slightly hunched position he’s in, but immediately falls back, then slants to lean on the wall. His gear is dirty, and he holds the side of his stomach with one hand, the lively blue eyes either drunk or very very tired.

“Dear God… What happened to you?”

You abandon the watering can and rush to him; it’s useless to ask if he’s injured when, clearly, he’s trying to prevent himself from slumping to the ground.

He’s enormous and intimidating even when wounded, a soldier loaded with ammo and weapons and protective paddings and guards, wearing a hood and a helmet and a radio of some sort, his tactical gloves bloody and eyes droopy. The weapon by his side is almost half as tall as you, and God – is that a grenade strapped to his vest?

“I got compromised,” König looks down at the wound but doesn’t remove his hand. He looks so different, like another man entirely when he’s not dressed in his customary olive green pants and a casual black t-shirt. He seems even buffier now, even taller, so terrifying that you wonder if you ever even knew this man.

You must look like a frightened deer because König mistakes your horrified look as sweet, simple concern.

“Don’t worry... They have it much worse, I assure you,” he says with his usual grin – you can hear it from the way he says it that he’s smiling. But it’s so weary now, so exhausted and frail compared to his confident, playful laughs and that husky voice with which he spoke to you after your kiss.

“I came to ask for help,” he continues under his breath, wobbling even when leaning against a wall. “You’re the only one I can… trust.”

“Of course, anything. I will do anything I can.”

His eyes smile down at you from behind the executioner’s veil. It’s that same devoted stare you’ve been trying to dispel for months now. You give yourself a quick mental shake, then tell him to wait here while you go in and call for an ambulance.

König bounces off the wall and seizes your hand, telling you he can’t go to a hospital and that, if anything, he must avoid any kind of public places. You don’t ask any further questions, even if you know you’re in a pickle now, and not only because those glacial eyes are making your knees weak again. There’s nothing much you can do: he’s wounded and still in danger, saying he can’t trust anyone else. Of course you have to help him in any way you can. If he says it’s not safe, then you must help him get somewhere where it is safe.

And besides, aren’t you a nun? You’re supposed to help those in need.

So when he asks you if there are any motels or a bed & breakfast nearby, you say you know just the place.

It makes your heart bleed that König takes support from you while you slowly make your way down the street. A man of his size, a body trained to withstand whatever his job throws at him, seeking support from a frail little nun… It’s a joke, indeed, and a horrid one.

When you get to the small place run by a humble old man, you don’t know who to feel more sorry for: the elder behind the counter or König, desperately trying to stay on his feet.

“I mean no trouble,” he says while pushing an unnerving amount of money across the table. “I just need a place to rest.”

The receptionist’s eyes dart to you, then back to König, who still has what you suppose is a loaded rifle dangling by his waist. The safety is on, probably, but there are also knives and grenades strapped to his person, and with that hood, he mainly looks like a terrorist of some sort.

“She’s here to help. See...? Bride of Christ. Even less trouble than I am.”

You try to smile reassuringly as the man risks a better look at you now instead of being fixated on König or his weapons.

You must make an odd pair, a soldier and a nun... The old man probably has a ton of questions in his head right now.

“No shooting,” he says to you, but his words are directed at König.

“No shooting,” he promises. “No mess if no one knows we’re here. Ok...? You’ve never even seen us.”

The receptionist nods. Then he extends a trembling hand and takes the money, and hands out a key without taking any check-in information.

You go to König and help him up the small stairs and into his room paid with bloody money and a menacing appearance. The fitted carpet is old, and floral patterned, the room small and adorable and meant for visitors far more petite than König. The bedspread is old-fashioned and floral too and has never even seen blood, of that you are sure when König lays himself down with a grunt.

You spend the next minutes – or hours, you can’t tell – in a tunnel-visioned fog as you do exactly as he says.

You help him out of his gear and weapons and lay them aside quickly but gently, you cut his shirt with an ugly-looking knife, then get a watered towel for him to press against the wound. You rush back to his tactical vest and search for a first aid kit and some medicine, and start to treat his wounds per his advice.

The sun sets in the window, and you patch up your injured soldier with care, trusting his word when he says it’s only a flesh wound and that it looks far worse than it is.

“I should get shot more often,” he purrs when you’re cleaning the rest of the blood off his skin.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you scold, trying to focus on your task and not the vast plates that make his chest. Or the thick abs, right there under your fingertips… Or the fact that he has incredibly narrow hips, and a luscious breath of dark hair leading from his navel down and underneath the waistband of his pants.

You suppose this is what your friend calls a happy trail...

And it does make you very happy.

You don’t dare to look beyond that because the pants he usually wears aren’t as tight as these, and you fear he’ll catch you checking out his junk in an attempt to see if your friend was correct about his size.

To your blessing – or your curse – you don’t even have to look straight at it to see he’s having an erection. You can actually see from the corner of your eye how König grows hard while you’re treating him – it’s right there, a robust tent that rises beside you while you concentrate on wiping off the blood.

“Pay no mind to that,” he says thickly and completely without shame. “It just happens… Can’t control it.”

He breathes a bit too heavy for someone who’s lying down, and you fear it’s because of the blood loss. But then you start to suspect it’s probably because all the remaining blood has gone between his legs… He doesn’t even try to tone down the heated, obsessive stares he shoots your way, and you suppose he’s either missed you very much, or then there’s a fever rising after all. You’re not sure if you’re glad or disappointed that the bullet didn’t scrape his leg instead.

“I missed you,” he says like he just read your thoughts. He whispers the sentence slowly and with purpose, saying it like a long-withheld secret.

“I missed you too,” you whisper back.

Gosh… Here you are, a silly little nun who’s tried to get over a crush for six months, crying after him at night and caressing his rose during the day. You’ve been petting a withering flower some mercenary gave you in hopes of getting into your pants, you’ve fawned over memories of a few smiles and a kiss, all the while the said mercenary has killed people for money and now got shot. He came here to work again, but never sent a message, he only came to see you when he was injured…

...And you’re glad he did. If a bullet was needed to bring him back to you, then you’re grateful for it, no matter how horrible it is.

“Did you ever… find someone?” You ask while keeping your gaze fixed on his navel instead of the raging bulge in his pants.

“Someone, who?”

“Someone to hold hands with.”

He gives a strained laugh. “Ah. No. No time for that.”

You swallow, and slowly guide your eyes to his.

“Are you still happy with your crucified man?”

Ouch.

“I… I don’t know.”

His brows knit together; you can see it even in the dim light of the table lamp, you can see it even if there’s some godforsaken black war paint all over his face under that hood.

There’s a distant hurt in his eyes before he blinks softly, slowly.

“I wrote to you, Braut Christi... Many times. Never sent the letters… They’re still in my room, at the base.”

Your heart skips a beat.

He hasn’t had “time” for women, yet has written you letters all these months. He’s written letters while you’ve caressed a rose….

You wonder if hearts can find each other, even through a distance, and if you’ve felt the urge to go to the flower he gave you at the same time König has gotten the desire to write another letter to you. It’s bittersweet, like this whole thing between you two, the mystery that both brings you together and rips you apart.

“I wish I hadn’t… I wish I...” you start, but can’t bring yourself to finish.

“Liebling. I should’ve sent them anyway.”

You go get rid of the bloodied paper towels before you start to cry in front of him.

God… You’re not only in a pickle, you’re neck-deep in trouble, and you only notice you forgot to wash your hands when you return to him.

He reaches for your hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Peace settles in, even if there’s blood on your hands and the man you adore is lying next to you, patched up with the help of a first aid kit when he should be lying in a hospital, receiving treatment and care.

There’s a knife and a pistol tucked under the bedspread, next to his hand, and the fact that he’s still prepared to fight anyone who tries to come through that door underlines the fact that you two come from very different worlds. König is more than just a rose buying, coffee offering gentleman, he's more than just a silly guy who threatens to sing serenades under your window if you don’t come out to play with him.

You’re not sure if you’re more enamoured or scared.

“You’re an angel,” he rasps from the bed as you try to swallow the tears that refuse to go down.

“No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are.”

A teardrop falls on the innocent floral bedspread as you wish you were in this room as a married couple instead of an injured, horny soldier and a childish nun in love. Spending your honeymoon or something, getting some rest after an eventful day in town, choosing this absurd old Bed & Breakfast as your place to stay for the night.

You wish you were doing anything else than treating his wounds, lethal or not.

“Are you crying?”

His voice is gentler than you even remembered. Six months of despair have turned him into a dark, alluring trickster when he’s really just a man, a big, amazing, tender man who’s multifaceted, multitalented, and always kind.

He's about to fall asleep, and it’s no wonder. The events of the evening have left you drained, too. You kneel beside his bed, too tired to even sit on a chair, wondering if he’ll die from his wounds tonight or get hunted down by the people who still want him dead.

“I wish you would stop killing people... I wish you would stop getting killed.”

You must look silly, kneeling beside a giant soldier’s bed, crying and holding his hand between yours as if praying. But his eyes smile at you, and while you’d want nothing more than to see his face again, you realise you kind of like König this way. Masked and menacing and mean to his enemies, but stripped down to his soul when he’s with you.

“I wish you would stop praying... And start living,” he mutters gently.

“Praying helps sometimes,” you whisper.

In truth, you wish you’d start living, too. You always thought you were brave when you said ‘no’ to the world. Perhaps you were only running away from it…

The hand is warm but not feverish. His breaths start to even, and his lids get heavier; his thumb gives you a small caress before he drifts off to sleep.

“Perhaps that’s why I’m still here, Kätzchen.”

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