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sunshinesteviee · 8 months

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mvp - s.h.

summary: you think steve deserves a prize after his baseball game for being the MVP; baseball player!steve wc: 3.9k warnings: a bit of baseball, but it's honestly not too heavy on it lol. this is mostly smut!! 18+ only, mdni!!!! car sex, but they're in the middle of nowhere, fingering, handjob, unprotected piv (pls be smart); fem!reader a/n: alright this has been in the works for fuckin forever, but it's finally done!! i hope it lives up to the hype lol. huge shoutout to @harringtonswriting for the original idea forever ago, and to @stevebabey for listening to me cry abt this for the past month and a half lol. enjoy!!!

Masterlist

huge thank you to @inkluvs for this^ cutie and to @t-lostinworlds for this gorgeous moodboard!!

It’s a surprisingly nice evening for summer in Indiana. There’s a warm breeze that kisses your cheeks and keeps you cool under the late afternoon sun. Perfect for one of Steve’s baseball games. The last few you went to were unbearably hot, so even though it’s still warm, and you’re still sweating a bit, this is much better. Not that you’re paying much attention to the weather with how close this game is.

His team is up by two points in the top of the ninth, and there’s someone on base, but if they hold them off from scoring, they’ll win. Steve’s pitching, and you know he’s feeling a lot of pressure, especially since this is a pretty important game near the end of the season. But you also know that he’s totally got this. He’s been pitching so many strikeouts this game, and he can definitely do one more.

He stands at the pitcher’s mound, bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he squints at his catcher. He looks fucking beautiful, quite honestly. Tan skin glowing in the golden hour sun, the sleeves of his jersey tight around his biceps. Pretty hair tucked under his hat, the eyeblack he’d carefully applied before the game smeared across his cheeks. You might just have to jump his bones when the game is over.

Steve gets into position, presses the ball into his glove, and takes a deep breath. You stand from your seat on the rusty bleachers, metal creaking underneath you, to get a better view of the field. Someone behind you — probably Jessica, another player’s girlfriend — huffs in annoyance, but you ignore her, too caught up in Steve, and sending him all of the good luck you can. He moves into his windup position, takes another deep breath, and sends the ball over the plate in a perfect strike that the batter watches go by.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and whistle loudly, earning you even more dirty looks from the people sitting around you. Half of them are supporters of the other team, so you can’t blame them, but you’re not going to quiet your support for your boyfriend. You know he can hear you — his eyes flick to yours for just a moment when he hears your whistle, and his mouth pulls up at one corner almost imperceptibly. He winks at you, subtle enough to go unnoticed by everyone else, but the cockiness makes you flustered and causes you to roll your eyes at the same time.

The rest of the inning flies by with a pop-up to right field that’s easily caught by Steve’s teammate, and another strikeout pitched by Steve — one that the batter watches go by. You’d cheered again, even louder than before, and blew him a kiss as he ran off the field.

Now you’re waiting for him, not so patiently, on the bleachers. You usually have to wait a bit while the team debriefs, and while you don’t mind most of the time, you’re feeling antsy today. You want him in more ways than one, and you don’t know how much longer you can wait. Thankfully, due to a good game and short debrief, it’s not too long until the players start filtering off of the field. Steve is always one of the last ones out, but you stand up in search of him anyway.

“Harrington!” you shout Steve’s name as he exits the dugout, waving a hand in the air as you bounce on the balls of your feet excitedly.

Hearing the sound of your voice, Steve’s head whips in your direction, and the biggest smile you’ve ever seen is on his face. He gives you a wave before turning back to the teammate he’d walked out with, saying something you can’t make out as he slaps his back and then makes a beeline for you. After the game, his uniform is awry; jersey half tucked in, hat on backwards, and he’s so sweaty, but somehow, you don’t mind. His bat bag is slung over his shoulder, but it’s quickly dumped on the ground as he approaches you in favor of scooping you up into his arms, “Baby!”

You let out a shriek and throw your arms around his neck as he lifts you off of the ground. Your toes are barely an inch from the grass, but it’s enough to have you clutching onto him. He’s still sweaty, having just come off the field, but you don’t mind. “Steve! You did so good, baby!”

Steve sets you back on your feet, pressing a wet kiss to your forehead with another blinding grin, “Thanks, honey. All for you.” His hands are still looped around your waist, resting gently against the small of your back. “Heard you cheering the entire game.”

“Yeah?” you ask, returning his grin as your fingers trace along the neckline of his jersey. “Good. Matt’s girlfriend kept giving me dirty looks for cheering so loud, but I think she’s just jealous her boyfriend isn’t as hot or talented as mine. I’ve got an all-star. The MVP.”

Dark pink colors Steve’s face from his neck all the way up to the tips of his ears, even though he’s still smiling at you, “Stop it. I’m not—“

“Don’t even start!” you quickly cut him off, placing a finger against his lips, “If I remember correctly, it was you who pitched a bunch of strikeouts, and held them off in the last inning. I’m so proud of you.”

He wants to argue, but you’re staring at him full of pride, so he gives in. His cheeks are still flushed pink as he smiles at you, pursing his lips to kiss the finger still pressed to his lips, “Thanks, baby. Love you so much. Couldn’t do it without you.”

You know that’s not true — you show up to all of his games, and sometimes you pack him extra snacks and water, but that’s about it. He’s the one who puts in all of the hard work during practice, at games, and during all of the other time he uses to improve. You are really proud of him, in every single way, and you want to let him know. Threading your fingers into the damp hair at the nape of Steve’s neck, you lean up on your toes to whisper in his ear, “I think the MVP deserves a prize. What do you think, handsome?”

Steve’s eyes grow wide, hands spreading over your hips to keep your body flush to his. He stumbles over his words when he finally speaks, “Shit, baby, I-I… yeah, okay.”

Leaning up on your toes, you give Steve a grin before pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, “Should we go?”

“Oh, definitely,” Steve nods quickly, leaning into you for a kiss. He kisses you with just enough force that you bend at the waist slightly, giggling against his lips as you grasp at his shoulders.

“Okay, okay. Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you push at him gently, though you’re grinning when he pulls back.

He lets out a soft huff, eyes narrowing playfully at you as he grabs his bat bag and hoists it up over his shoulder again. He’s quick to start the trek back to his car, turning to face you as he walks backward with a cheeky grin on his face. His arms are held out to his sides as he calls, “You comin’ with me or what, babe?”

Not wanting him to get too far ahead, you jog to catch up to him, slipping your hand into his as your shoulders bump, “You don’t even know what the prize is, Stevie.”

Scoffing, Steve turns to you with a smug and knowing smile on his lips, “Oh, I know what it is.” Still, he’s gentle with you, giving your hand a soft squeeze and throwing a ridiculously exaggerated wink your way to make you smile. He dumps his gear into the trunk of his car, letting it close with a loud thud as he turns to you, arms caging your body against the side of his car. His breath is hot on your neck as he dips down so his lips ghost over the skin just below your ear, “The prize… it’s not actually a physical prize, right?”

You can’t help it — you let out a laugh, head tilting back as you wrap your arms around Steve’s neck to draw him in closer, “Depends on what you mean by physical…”

“Baby,” Steve groans with a laugh, taking advantage of your exposed skin by pressing wet kisses up the side of your neck and along your jaw. You want to reply with another sarcastic remark, but your breath hitches as his teeth graze your skin. So, instead, you cup his jaw in your hands and pull his mouth to yours for a kiss.

The sun is starting to smolder low in the sky, nearly sinking beneath the horizon to cast the sky in pretty oranges and pinks as Steve finally pulls out of the parking lot and heads for your shared apartment. His hand reaches over the center console to rest on your thigh, a warm, heavy weight on your bare skin. He’s already been causing trouble, with the way he’d kissed you against the car, and you have a feeling you’re not going to make it home in a timely manner.

Music is playing on the radio, something top 40 that Steve is humming under his breath as he drives. You’re having a hard time figuring out what the song is with the way his fingertips press into the softness of your inner thigh and brush up ever so slightly. Sucking in a breath, you glance in his direction, only to find that aside from the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly, he’s keeping any indication of what he’s thinking off of his face.

He looks so pretty in the golden light streaming in through the windows that it’s almost hard to believe he’s real. Reaching out across the gap between you, you tuck a few strands of his messy hair behind his ear and then drag the pad of your thumb across his jaw. You trace over a few of the cute moles scattered over his face and wish you could kiss each and every single one of them, but he’s a bit too far away. Letting out a dramatic sigh, you let a lock of his hair slip from your fingers back into its place.

At the forlorn sound, Steve’s eyes flick from the road over to you as he laughs under his breath. He twists just a little bit further to press a kiss to the delicate skin on the inside of your wrist, and though he’s pretty sure he knows the answer, he asks, “What, sweetheart?”

“I think I might combust if I can’t kiss you or touch you within the next minute.”

Steve lets out a laugh, breath hitching as your own hand drops from his hair to his thigh, “We’re like ten minutes from home, honey.” He’s trying his best to stay casual, but he’s feeling about the same as you, especially with your hand on him now.

“Can’t wait ten minutes, baby. Want you now. Don’t you want your prize?”

“Jesus christ,” he huffs out quickly, hazarding a glance to the hand on his thigh that’s creeping upwards before scanning the road, “Alright, okay, baby, just— just let me pull over. Fuck.”

There aren’t many perks to living in the middle of nowhere Indiana, but if you have to pick one, being able to pull over pretty much anywhere you want to fuck your boyfriend in the front seat of his car is definitely up there. It takes a moment before Steve spots a secluded area and pulls off of the road, dirt and gravel crunching under the tires as he rolls to a stop. The second his car is in park, you unbuckle your seatbelt and nearly launch yourself over the center console into Steve’s lap.

He laughs in surprise, but it’s cut off by your mouth on his, kissing him like it might be your last chance. There’s not much room in the front seat, and you huff as your knees press into the console and the door on either side of his lap, the skirt of the dress you’re wearing riding up your thighs. It’s not exactly comfortable, but you quickly become too distracted by Steve — his lips pressed to your neck in a bruising kiss, his hardening cock underneath you — to care. And the way he’s gripping your hips to pull you closer isn’t helping.

Your hips roll forward as you press closer to him, drawing stuttering breaths from both of you. It feels like his hands are everywhere, sliding up your exposed thighs to your waist, warm even through the fabric of your dress, before traveling further up your body to cup your breasts. You’d had to forgo a bra in this dress, and Steve isn't oblivious to this fact; he’d noticed right away, and was going to take advantage of that.

Wet kisses press to your collarbone as he dips lower, fingers sliding under the thin straps of your dress to tug them off your shoulders, “Looked so pretty in the stands today, baby. Y’always do, but this pretty little dress…” He all but groans, pulling the top of your dress down your chest. More kisses trail along your exposed flesh, the dull scrape of his teeth followed by another hickey pulls a gasp from you.

With his mouth on you, he’s making it real hard to form a coherent sentence, “Christ, Steve— we can’t— don’t have time for—“

A sharp tug to the hair at the nape of his neck finally gets his attention, and he pops back up with a huff, narrowing his eyes playfully at you, “Sorry. Sorry. Not my fault you’ve got perfect tits, honey.” He squeezes your breasts as if to make a point, not quite roughly, but not gently either, thumbs brushing over your nipples.

“Steve,” you admonish playfully with a roll of your eyes, slapping at his chest. You giggle, though, leaning forward to kiss him again. Your fingers work at the buttons on his jersey as you kiss. It’s not really a necessity, but you want to feel his warm, golden skin and the hair on his chest, kiss the moles that are littered on his torso. Your fingers trail down his chest, and you can feel it heave at your light touches, a stuttering breath as you inch closer to his pants.

After unbuttoning his pants and pulling down the zipper, the two of you shuffle around in the front seat to get his pants and underwear down enough to free his cock. Your hand wraps around the base, a gentle touch as you stroke up his length. Precum leaks from the tip, messy on your hand as your thumb rubs over his slit. Steve hisses at the touch, hips trying to push up into your hand, “Shit, honey—“

“Feel good?” you ask, a bit smug as you twist your wrist mid-stroke.

“So good. Need— ah— wanna touch you, too, babe. Lemme…” Steve trails off and one hand presses into the small of your back, reaching down behind you with the other one to pull the lever on the seat. The seat slides all the way back to give you more room, but it moves quickly, leaving you scrambling to hold onto Steve and his jersey. He laughs at your surprised expression, hands moving to settle on your thighs, “That’s better. More room.”

His palms slide up the lengths of your thighs, thumbs brushing against the innermost part until they slip under your flowy dress and bump into the fabric of your underwear. One finger slips just underneath the lacy trim at the edge, running back and forth lightly, “Can I?”

“Yes,” you breathe out, nodding quickly as Steve’s fingers press into the wet spot forming on your panties. “Please, baby.”

He rubs your clit softly through your underwear once, twice, and just before you’re about to complain, his fingers hook into the fabric and tug it to the side, tracing up your slit, “Already so wet for me, huh?”

“You– fuck– you look so hot in your uniform, baby, ‘s not my fault,” you huff, shifting your hips to try to get him right where you want him.

Steve’s fingers dip back down, circling your entrance in a teasing touch before two ease into your cunt. He’s slow with it, almost infuriatingly so, as he spreads you open. You gasp into the crook of his neck, only just remembering that this is supposed to be about him, and resume the slow stroke of your hand on his cock. The air is filled with soft breaths as you touch each other, Steve’s breath warm against your skin, and it’s all you can hear, even though the radio is still playing quietly.

When his fingers curl inside of you, pressing into the perfect spot, you whine, “Want you inside of me, Stevie. Need you.”

“Yeah?” he asks with a grin, bringing his fingers to his mouth to lick them clean. He hums around his fingers, pulling them from his lips with a small pop sound, “Taste so good, honey.”

Pleasure twists low in your tummy at the sight of his fingers in his mouth, at his dirty words, and you whimper. You can’t wait much longer, so you don’t, shifting up onto your knees the best you can in the tight space without bumping into the roof of Steve’s car. One of your hands slides over Steve’s shoulder, keeping yourself steady as you slip the other hand between your bodies to line Steve up with your entrance.

Warm hands rest at your hips, fingers splaying out wide to hold you as you sink down onto Steve’s cock slowly. You both moan softly, your thighs shaking as you lower yourself until he’s fully inside of you. There’s always an aching stretch, and it takes a moment for you to adjust, gasping into the crook of Steve’s neck, “Shit, Stevie, you– you’re so big, fuck.”

Steve laughs, a breathless sound, hands flexing against your skin as he fights the urge to thrust his hips up, “Y’sure know how to sweet talk.”

“Shut up,” you huff playfully, curling your fingers into the fabric of his jersey as you rock your hips forward once. Steve lets out his own strangled, gasping noise at the sudden movement and you grin, feeling smug.

You lift yourself back up slightly, a sweet, slow drag of his cock through your tight cunt, and then rock back down, grinding into him. Steve swears under his breath, hands moving from your hips to your ass to help you fuck yourself on his cock. It takes a moment, but you settle into a rhythm with Steve’s help, circling your hips against his, back and forth, up and down. Your thighs start to burn from the effort, but it’s worth it for the dazed look Steve has on his face.

“Christ, babe,” he mutters, squeezing your ass as he presses wet kisses across your chest, “ridin’ me like a champ. So good for me.”

You clench around him at his praise, moaning in a way that should be embarrassing, but you’re too far gone to care. Your fingers travel up from the collar of his jersey to his hair, curling into the strands at the nape of his neck under his cap, and you surge forward to kiss him. It’s messy, your lips sliding against his in an open-mouthed kiss.

It’s so hot in the car that between the warm summer air and the warmth radiating from your bodies, the windows of the car start to fog up. If anyone were to see the car, they’d know exactly what was happening, but thankfully, there’s likely no one around for miles. Sweat beads at Steve’s hairline as he begins to thrust his hips up to meet yours, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your ass hard enough that it might leave bruises. You falter as his hips smack yours with a filthy sound, pushing your face into Steve’s warm shoulder as you moan, “Steve, fuck— ’m close— oh god, I need—”

“I got you, baby,” he mumbles into your skin, his breath fanning across your shoulder, making you shiver. One strong arm hooks around your waist while his other hand finds its way between your bodies, rubbing your clit in time with the thrust of his hips. He’s babbling, praises for you spilling from his pretty, pink lips, “Look so pretty on my cock, baby, takin’ me so well, yeah? Fuck, I love you so much, you’re perfect. So fuckin’ tight for me, y’close, huh? Gonna cum for me?”

You can feel the way he twitches as you clench around his cock, your thighs tight against his hips, entire body tensing as pleasure washes over you. Your chest pushes into his as you tip over the edge, slick skin against slick skin, “Oh god, fuckfuckfuck.”

The thrust of Steve’s hips up into yours grows sloppy, but he doesn’t let up, thumb swiping over your clit as you ride out your high. He’s not far behind you, groaning your name into the crook of your neck as he cums hard. You have enough of a mind to continue to rock your hips against his until he’s spent, breathing hard.

His hand on your back pushes under your sundress, stroking up the curve of your spine gently, a soft and intimate touch. It’s silent as you both try to catch your breath, trading soft kisses on damp skin and parted lips.

You speak first, a small laugh as you push your sticky chest off of Steve’s, “Holy shit, it’s hot in here.”

“Yeah it is,” he says with a cheeky grin, giving your ass a rough squeeze as his gaze dips down to your breasts. He leans forward, pressing another soft kiss to the swell of your breast, just above the nipple, making you shiver. He all but giggles at your reaction and leans back into his seat, with a heaving breath, “Fuck, it is hot, though. Lemme open the windows.”

Reaching over with one hand, Steve opens the driver-side window, letting in the cool evening air. It feels nice on your warm skin, and you close your eyes, turning your face into the breeze. You can feel his eyes on you, and when you look back at him, he’s still staring at you, eyes a soft honey color in the last of the sunlight.

“I love you,” you say, quietly, almost shy.

“I love you, more, honey,” he replies easily, a grin breaking out on his face.

You kiss him one last time before pushing up off of his lap, wincing as he slips out of you. Shuffling backwards, you pull your underwear back into place, and tug the top of your dress back up your chest, adjusting the straps. Steve helps you back over the console into the passenger seat before fixing his own clothes. You’re still flushed, so you quickly roll your own window down and stick your arm out. Your fingers flutter in the breeze as Steve pulls back into the main road, turning the volume of the radio up.

Steve’s hand reaches out towards you, settling on your thigh once again, though maybe a bit more innocently this time. You rest your hand over his, your fingers curling between his as you tease, “Hope you enjoyed your prize, MVP.”

He laughs, head tipping back against his seat, hand squeezing your thigh gently, “Shit, babe, after that, I think you deserve the MVP title.”

a few other tags hehe

@underoossss @sattlersquarry

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #baseball!steve #baseball!steve harrington #baseball player!steve #baseball player!steve harrington #sunshinesteviee #sunshinesteviee writing

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friendly-neighborhood-boricua · 8 months

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Squint And You'll See It

Summary: Sirius and his potions partner are trying to brew Polyjuice Potion for class, and he can't seem to figure out why she won't wear her glasses.

Notes: Sirius Black x shy!reader. All fluff, really. This is the most self-indulgent thing I've ever written. I'm weirdly self-conscious about the sounds I make, how loud they are, if they could annoy/distract people, etc. so I wrote this just to comfort myself about it lol. I ended up using Y/N a bunch because using too many pronouns in a row makes my brain bristle so oh well. Still though, this is the sweetest thing I think I've ever written. Enjoy! <3

Y/N squinted up at the blackboard as Slughorn collected the class’s attention once again, and Sirius just about melted. The all-too-familiar scrunch in her nose and the crease between her brows gave him more comfort than he probably should have taken from her struggles to see the properties of Chinese Chomping Cabbage from so far back in the classroom. After an especially rapid flurry of blinking, she scribbled a couple notes on her parchment before fisting her knuckles in her eyes tiredly.

Sirius nudged her gently. As if it wasn’t already, the honey-doe eyes she gave him had his heart overflowing with a plush fondness.

“Your glasses, love,” he whispered, nodding to her book bag, which hung off of the back of her chair. Y/N looked at it, then blinked twice. The glasses were a new and quite helpful development—one she hadn’t quite gotten into the habit of using yet. She eyed the bag again.

“I’m alright,” she whispered back and returned to her notes.

Sirius frowned. “You sure?”

She nodded, giving him a light smile.

Sirius frowned slightly but returned to his notes when Slughorn chided him for having his eyes elsewhere. But how could he be blamed? Only a madman would rather learn about ingredients than watch her.

For a surprisingly long while, Sirius managed to stay focused on his notes, sometimes copying Remus’s, who sat on his right side, and only occasionally sneaking glances at Y/N, who sat on his left. After what felt like an eternity, Slughorn finally let the pair work on their Polyjuice Potion at a work table in the far back of the classroom. Sirius had come down with a nasty case of spattergroit several weeks previous and missed a week and a half of the brewing process. Unfortunately, Y/N had missed several days herself due to a family matter (now resolved with nothing to worry about, she had assured Sirius countless times), ending in the complete devastation of their original Polyjuice batch. And so, Y/N, unwilling to take a bad mark, and Sirius, ready to do just about anything to keep spending time with her, decided to make another batch.

“Do you want to gather the ingredients or shall I?” she asked as Sirius scooted his stool closer to hers (to better reach the cauldron, of course).

“I can get the ingredients,” he said, flashing what he hoped was his most charming smile, and she blushed.

“Alright, I’ll, erm … I’ll work out our next instructions …” Sirius nodded as Y/N fell into her reading, smiling to himself as her brows furrowed once again to scan the page.

Sirius skirted the classroom towards ingredient shelves, passing by James, Peter, and Remus, who all raised their brows at him with smirks. He simply rolled his eyes, rummaging through the shelves until he had gathered the correct ingredients. But when he turned around, ready to make his way back to Y/N and their Polyjuice Potion, he was met with a horrible sight: Remus, holding a tight-lipped frown in a near-futile attempt to ward off a smile, Peter, doubled over with laughing cramps, and James, turned around in his chair and arms wrapped around himself, raking them up and down his back in a sultry fashion as he pretended to make out with someone.

With a peeved sigh, Sirius chucked a bundle of knotgrass at James, seed pods bursting and small nettle-like seeds clinging to James's hair. Of course, the three burst into peals of raucous laughter. Sirius groaned, and quickly made his way back to the back work table as Slughorn chastised the rest of them.

“Sirius, are you alright? You’re looking a bit … erm, warm.”

Sirius’s ears burned even hotter, and his eyes flew to examine the grout between the floor tiles.

“Yeah, yeah, ‘m perfect, lovie.” He set down his armful of glass jars and clay bowls, trying desperately to change the subject. “Found what we’ve got to do yet?”

“Mhm,” she hummed. “Just here, it says we must add three bits of boomslang skin—”

“Got that here.”

“—crush the bicorn horn and add that—”

“Got that as well.”

“—and then there are some cooking instructions, but we can cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Sounds good to me, love.” Sirius smiled warmly.

The two worked in harmony, Y/N checking and double-checking that she was measuring everything correctly and Sirius adding the ingredients once she had prepared them. The two worked in sweet, warm peace, managing only one easily-averted disaster, all while keeping quiet as Slughorn continued to teach the rest of the class. There was a strange sort of domesticity to it that made Sirius’s heart skip beats, and he imagined himself with Y/N in their future home, huddled around a cauldron and brewing something to keep them warm on a Siberian night—

“How long should it be at a high temperature again?” Sirius asked, forcing himself from his daydreaming and adding the crushed bicorn horn.

“Erm …” Y/N’s nose practically brushed the page with how closely she peered at the instructions. With the smallest sound of annoyance Sirius had ever heard, her head moved to allow her eyes to travel along the far wall, where a dozen or so posters displayed recipes for a variety of potions. She sighed lightly, squinting heard and pushing herself on tiptoe (as if it would help).

“Use your glasses, love,” Sirius suggested but was quickly brushed off.

“‘M fine, really,” Y/N murmured, eyes still squinting.

“Sweetheart,” the word caught Y/N’s attention, and she fell back onto her heels, eyes barely meeting Sirius’s before drilling into the bubbling cauldron, “you’ll give yourself a migraine. Use your glasses.” Y/N glanced uneasily from Sirius to her bag on the back of her chair and back. Sirius’s brows furrowed. “What is it, love?”

Y/N shook her head. “Nothing, it’s nothing.”

“Then … wear your glasses,” Sirius reasoned, and she let out a little huff. “Why don’t you want to wear them, lovie?”

“It’s not that I don’t want to wear them, it’s just …” Sirius watched her with soft, almost concerned eyes.

Y/N sighed, pushing herself onto the stool with knees pressed together. The thought was silly, but she had known Sirius long enough to know he wasn’t going to let this go.

“The buckle on the bag, it’s …” Sirius’s knee knocked gently against hers. “It’s loud—it clatters about when I open it. Catches people’s attention. And my glasses are in the bag, so if I open the bag, people will stare, and then people stare at me when I have my glasses on anyway—not that I’m not grateful for the glasses! They’re a great help for seeing the board during cl—”

Sirius couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle, and he almost felt bad at the pout Y/N dealt in return. “First of all, love, people stare at you and your glasses because you look fucking divine when you wear them. I should know.” He brushed her arm playfully with his, and she flushed a brilliant shade of red-pink. “And second, no one thinks anything about your loud bag buckles, I promise.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I just—I don't want to disrupt them is all …”

Sirius chuckled again, but still, Y/N didn't make a move for her bag. It took only a moment and a half of contemplation before Sirius burst into the most fake-sounding fit of coughs ever created in the history of this Earth. Nearly the entire class turned to stare at him as he seemingly hacked up a lung, and he hung himself dramatically off of the table’s edge to play it up just that little bit more.

“Mr. Black, are you quite alright?” Professor Slughorn asked, eyes slightly wide with concern.

“Y-yes, Pro—” Sirius coughed a dozen more times, discretely winking at Y/N, who seemed to get the point and quietly retrieved her glasses from her bag. Not a soul noticed.

#sirius black x you #sirius x y/n #sirius x you #marauders era #sirius black fluff #sirius x reader #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x reader #sirius black x shy!reader #sirius fluff

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cardsagainstmyself · 2 months

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Missing You

Alec Volturi X Fem!Reader

Summary: You begin to miss your vampire soulmate when he leaves you in the italian castle on an important mission.

Warnings: suggestive material

Authors Note: My first work!!! I've been deliberating this for the longest time. I am open to criticism (be nice please lol) and any comments! Hope you enjoy 💞

》》》》

The bed you usually shared with him was cold and empty while he was gone. You opted to sleep on the couch included in your lush chambers in his prolonged absence. His being away was prolonged exactly by five days as his mission was originally supposed to be two days, but was extended to a full week immediately after his departure. Alec's phone calls were hurried as he was always pulled away by the rigorous chase of a troubled rogue vampire. The hasty words shared between the two of you were never enough for either side.

You layed upon your velvet sofa, gazing at the gold bracelet gifted to you by Alec. It had a darling engravement on the plaque: "forever". Your phone rang and you hurried to jump up to grasp and answer your phone.

"Hello", you tried to not sound excited or anxious, although you currently were both.

"My Tesoro, are you well? I expect to be home shortly." He sounded slightly strained, although you chose not to comment on it.

"I'm fine." You come off more snippy than intended, but move past it to not worry him. "You caught him? Finally?"

His reply came immediately: "Yes-- well, Jane caught him."

You giggle, a sound that always made Alec's dead heart flutter. "I bet she did." You pause. "So...soon as in tonight or..." you let your impatience do the talking, much to Alec's amusement.

"Yes as in tonight, princess." You heard the smirk in his voice. "Can you handle another few hours, dear?"

"Don't tease me." You order sternly. "Run here as fast as you can because 'another few hours' is all that I can handle anymore." Your snarky response was followed by Alec's laugh before you hung up to get ready for his return.

You take your time in showering and applying light brushes of makeup while listening to music. When you were in your shared walk-in closet surveying your options of dresses, you felt cold hands on your waist.

"Don't bother putting anything else on when your robe is about to come off..."

You quickly turn around to throw your arms around Alec's neck. "Alec! I missed you!" You hugged him tighter as he leaned closer to your neck to leave kisses.

"And I you." His lips moved up to your cheek, then to your lips. The kiss was filled with longing. Your tongues soothed eachothers as your hands moved to his shoulders to anchor yourself so he could pick you up.

He walked the two of you over to your perfectly made bed and sat you down. Your hands slid down Alec's chest where he held them there between his own hands. "It's been too long..." you state in a sultry manner, laying back on the comforter.

"I can't help but to agree with you, my lady." Alec's response was accompanied by his hands running down your thighs, and back up again to toy with the hem of your robe. "Shall I act on my earlier words?" Alec winked at you while he waited for you to give your consent, a must in your relationship.

"You shall," you giggled out in excitement. Your robe now dangled off of your shoulders, and Alec's hands are tracing the lace of your panties. Slight rubs through the fabric had you letting out panting breaths. "Alec," you whimpered.

His movements suddenly stopped. He gained a statue like appearance with his unmoving eyes and pristine skin. You tugged on his sleeve to gain his attention. "Don't tell me."

His lips were now pursed in an apology. "You know I don't mean for this to happen--." Bangs on the doors sound and you hear a teasing voice directing Alec to the throne room: Demetri.

"I'm afraid you and your hands are needed elsewhere, Alec." You scoff at Demetri's inappropriate words, and move off of the bed to put your robe back on.

"Be quick. Dont make me take matters into my own hands." You warn Alec.

This makes Alec determined to get back to you in a timely manner; he speeds out the door, almost trampling over Demetri.

A busy vampire you were mated to.

#alec volturi #alec volturi x reader #twilight #oneshot #twilight x reader #volturi #demetri volturi #twilight saga #twilight saga x reader #vampire #fanfiction #twilight fanfiction

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liberifatalis · 8 months

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I don’t know how long this was in my inbox for, I’m assuming it’s been here for like 3 years so I’m SO sorry anon lol. I’ve been going through writers block for like years at this point and I still struggle with it.

BUT recently I’ve gotten back intowriting kinda, and since I’ve been writing a Sephiroth fic I thought I’d finally start writing headcanons again. The FF7 writing community outside of in-game ships is dry as fuck right now, especially the headcanon/reader-insert side of fandom, so hopefully you’ll enjoy this if you’re still out there anon! I apologise again TTTT

This is a mix of SFW and NSFW headcanons as it’s been a while since I’ve posted any headcanons, and my view on Sephiroth has sort of changed since the last time I posted headcanons for him, so it might be different to my previous interpretations. But I have included more spicy headcanons, so hopefully you'll enjoy!

I would like to add that while these are my own interpretations of Sephiroth, I have also been influenced by many other interpretations/headcanons of him as well! Most of these aren’t adding anything original at all, and I’d say a lot of blogs on here say about the same kind of thing in regards to him. So if anyone disagrees, that’s okay! This is all interpretation and I’m just mainly having fun.

SFW and non-SFW below All headcanons are of CrisisCore!Sephiroth

DISCLAIMER: long post below, lots of text.

SFW

I know he’s like…technically half alien, and that’s a big reason as to why he’s always felt and kind of behaved differently, but to me, he’s very very neurodivergent coded. I don’t want to use a specific label, but he’s absolutely neurodivergent to me. He’s always felt like an outcast, he stands out, he holds himself differently, he’s aloof, stoic, doesn’t really know how to say things without coming off as intense and kinda intimidating. He barely socialises with anyone other than his friends because he doesn’t really know how to. He never seeks out friendship with anyone, and he became friends with Genesis and Angeal originally because of proximity. I’m not saying the friendship wasn’t genuine, it was and he cared for them, but he’ll never be the first to initiate a friendship or anything like that – the fact that Genesis and Angeal were in SOLDIER, therefore in proximity to Sephiroth, is what sparked the friendship. He would have never been like “hey bro, let’s be buddies”. It was more like, he had to see these people regularly, so he had no choice but to socialise with them, and then he ended up finding out that they weren’t too bad and he enjoyed their company, and friendship and a deeper bond formed after that.

He struggles to relate to people, but grows very attached to people he can relate to. Whether that’s being an orphan, being an outcast, shared hobbies, ANYTHING. If he can find anything to relate to someone, something you can share, it sparks his interest (platonically) and will make him feel slightlyyyy more at ease around you and want to get to know you more.

A lot of people headcanon him with anxiety or PTSD, and I completely agree. He’s very neurotic. But I think that’s quite obvious if you consider his past and how he was raised. No one could come out of that completely mentally healthy and sane. He’s prone to insomnia, night terrors, panic attacks, but it’s never shown to anyone but him. In canon, we can see that he’s almost always composed and professional, and he is constantly putting in effort to maintain that demeanor.

Has no identity outside of SOLDIER/Shinra. Him being neurodivergent also makes him struggle a lot more with this, so he’s kind of internalised being a SOLDIER and it completely defines him. Poor boy is lost.

He likes people (platonically and/or romantically) that can “keep up with him.” Zack, Genesis and Angeal were his only friends, and it makes sense. They can, at least somewhat, keep up with him. He likes a slight challenge (physically and mentally), someone that can keep his brain moving. I think he’d be amused by someone who was a bit hot-headed or blunt, as well.

Very dry sense of humour, as we see in canon. A lot of the time people can’t tell he’s joking unless they’re close with him.

Very very intelligent and academic. Loves to read. Lil nerd. Will read encyclopedias, dictionaries, thesauruses, history books, articles, textbooks, science books, anything non-fiction. Not only does it calm his brain and his neuroticism, but he is genuinely interested in anything where he can gain knowledge. Knowledge is power, and he needs to feel powerful. He is a fast reader too, able to finish an average 500 page book in under 6 hours.

Only listens to classical music. Literally does not understand anything else. There can’t be any vocals, just instruments.

Horrible at expressing himself honestly and genuinely, and spontaneously. Everything is carefully thought out and spoken bluntly, as if he’s reading from a textbook. He will literally stand there silently, eyes narrowed in deep thought, for a minute if he needs that time to think of a reply, because he’s not one to fumble over words. If he’s with someone (a friend or partner) who will give him the space and patience to speak openly and awkwardly, it will still take him time to be completely vulnerable. A partner who is open and vulnerable and doesn’t shy away from being a little awkward with their feelings will involuntarily demonstrate vulnerability for him, and give him an opportunity to try it for himself, and he’ll kind of learn from them.

^^^ Adding on to this point, there are so many scenes in my rough drafts of Flood & Flame where Sephiroth and reader are literally standing there staring at each other like this gif, and mulling over what they should say LMAO. A lot of these scenes made the cut, too. Just two neurodivergent folk falling in love, nothing else to see here!

Takes ages for him to get comfortable with someone and trust them. The process is easier if, as mentioned before, he can relate to you in any way, if you’re open with him first, or if you’re in proximity. Eg, if you work in Shinra or SOLDIER, you mention your mum died, you say you like swords, you mention you like combat, etc etc. It can be something so small, but because he’s neurodivergent and has felt alone his whole life, he’ll latch on to it and that will be the starting point of the friendship/relationship developing. He needs an opportunity to get closer to you, or else it will be difficult and near impossible.

He needs to feel in control or else he’ll spiral. I don’t mean in a toxic way, as in “you’re my friend/partner so you can never look at anyone and can’t have friends and blah blah blah”, I mean it as in he needs to constantly upkeep his professional demeanour and look like he has his shit together, even if he hasn’t slept for two days and has barely eaten and has been having panic attacks. He will slip, sometimes, maybe being a bit more snarky or moody than usual, or saying/revealing something he didn’t mean to, but ultimately he has control over every facet of his being. This makes him a very intentional person, too. He means everything he says, and sticks to his word.

He loves routine, it keeps him grounded. But this means that he dislikes change and has a hard time dealing with it. It can be as little as Shinra changing the ingredients to his shampoo and conditioner, or to what happened to Genesis and Angeal in Crisis Core �� change on any scale is overwhelming to Sephiroth.

Definitely not a love at first sight kind of guy. Even if you’re like, strikingly beautiful, everyone just is when he first meets them. You’re just a person (and this isn’t in a condescending way lol) like everyone else. He could only develop romantic feelings and love for someone after getting to know them. Then he starts to see you as beautiful and so much more. It’s really sweet.

If he ever developed feelings for anyone, he wouldn’t even know he was developing feelings for a good chunk of it lol. He’d think he was just fascinated by them. Eventually he’d realise, oh shit, do I…love this person? He’d start catching on once he starts thinking of them more often and seeking out their company, and eventually when he had the impulsive urge to kiss them, he’d realise he was in too deep.

Touch starved and also kind of touch repulsed. He’s a contradiction sometimes, and it confuses him. He’s more touch starved than he is touch repulsed, but when you haven’t had ANY physical affection all your life, and all you know is war and death and being tested on, you of course are going to go into a bit of a shock if anyone touches you. He’s used to combat, to having his guard up and being skeptical. So if you happen to brush your shoulder accidentally against his, or your hand accidentally touches his, it sends a wave of electricity throughout his entire body, almost burning him on the inside. He wants to reach out, but he stops himself. Unsure why he wants to, why he likes it, and Sephiroth not knowing something means not having the upper hand and not having control, and that makes him disgusted and disappointed in himself.

Physical affection (platonic, romantic, sexual) will take time. He needs to let his guard down to accept it and embrace it. If he trusts you, it will be easier, but still tedious. Once he gets there, even just by a little bit, you’ll see him start to initiate affection, and then once he is fully comfortable being with you, he is obsessed with it. He is always wanting to be in your presence, just like a cat. Even if you’re not doing anything, just being able to see you and be near you is enough and what he needs; this is partly to do with wanting to know you’re safe and worrying that something is going to happen, that something is going to change and he’ll lose everything. Like I said, he needs to be in control, and if he’s around, he can stop something from going wrong.

He comes to love physical affection, it is so so calming to him and comforting. Loves to hold you and smother you. Loves to smell your hair or the soap you used in the shower, he just loves the presence and feeling of you. Eventually he is very clingy and touchy with physical affection, and it’s one way he shows his complete love and devotion. Is a big fan of cuddling (he never calls it that though) and holding your hands–kissing your knuckles and the back of your hand, lightly caressing and dragging his fingers over all the lines and landscape of your hands. Also really loves resting his forehead against yours.

Due to his upbringing and the way he is, love is all-consuming for him. He loves to the point of obsession and even possibly madness. It takes over him. He would happily let it consume him like a wildfire. He would kill for it. I don’t mean this is an inherently toxic way either, BUT this can become very destructive, and if he happens to be so very unlucky and ends up with a person who doesn’t have good intentions, then it could definitely be a bad thing and end up destructive. Now, in the fanfic/fiction side of things, this is obviously very compelling and fascinating to read, and a love like what I described is quite romantic if it’s in a genuine, passionate and non-toxic way. But I just wanted to add that disclaimer that it can become quite the opposite of romantic and be destructive if it’s not a relationship that is trying to be healthy and trying to grow. I don’t mean it in the way that Sephiroth will become abusive, I just mean that he is obsessive naturally, and that can turn out to be a positive or a negative, depending on the situation. He can be a flame that is burnt out, or a flame that burns others.

MORE SFW + non-SFW

He’s a virgin. I said this before and I stand by it. Has never kissed anyone, has never been touched–the man hasn’t even been hugged, damn it!

I do think, realistically, if I wanted to be 100000% accurate, I’d consider him asexual and aromantic, especially after Crisis Core timeline, and if you wanted to see him as some narcissistic, entitled, eldritch-horror sort of villain, which he very much is tbh. BUT he is half-human (to me), and I don’t think it’s far-fetched at all to believe he has urges like everyone else. So, for me, I see it the same way as I do with how he’d fall in love with someone. I don’t think he could ever be sexually/physically attracted to someone unless he was close with them and trusted them. Once he develops feelings for you, then he’d start to immediately be sexually attracted to you. Before all that, you were just another person, you just are–your body is a body, it is functioning, it just is. But then, when he has feelings for you (and as I mentioned before, he doesn’t even understand until much later that he has feelings for you), suddenly your body…it takes his breath away. Your shoulders. Your chest. Your everything; it paralyses him, almost. You are a walking goddess/god to him, so beautiful and bright he is transfixed and can’t look anywhere but at you. Your face looks like it was sculpted by an artist that was gifted with magic from the Cetra. A rare beauty, one that he cannot put into words as it is a beauty so special and intricate that no human words can do any justice. When you look up at him, smile at him, he loses sense of time and place, nothing else exists outside of the small moment you are sharing, and he only sees you. The man is a poet at heart.

Since he is a virgin, and is so damn enthralled by you, he doesn’t really know how to act lol. He looks confident and like he’s in control, but he’s not, especially the first time you do anything. The first time you kiss, you’ll have to lean in first, or give him a sign you’re wanting him to kiss you. Honestly, you’ll probably have to tell him it’s okay to kiss you. It’s just a soft, chaste kiss at first. He’s never done this, remember. But like everything, he’s highly skilled and intelligent, and kissing is natural, so once he’s confident again it doesn’t take him long to get the hang of things.

He has many kinds of kisses. Soft ones that last long without breaking away, reminders that he’s there and he isn’t going anywhere. Other kisses that are quick, multiple long pecks, that are to tell you you’re beautiful and he’s thinking of you and he’s grateful. Then there are the passionate ones, the ones where he throws in every desire and intense feeling he can’t ever comprehend or describe, where he’s losing himself in you–kissing you as if it’s all he knows, changing the rhythm and speed because he’s in the moment. It’s as if he can’t get any closer to you/can’t get enough. Sephiroth’s passionate kisses are exactly how he is–intense, skillful, intentional, and overwhelming. He kisses with the same skill and intent he uses to wield Masamune.

Sexually repressed boy. Sex is extremely vulnerable, and he doesn’t understand or know how to express his sexuality. At first he’s afraid he’s going to hurt you.

The first time he has sex, he is in awe and is so curious. He focuses more on you, ignoring himself, wanting to know every contour of your body. His hands are all over, eyes focused on you, trying to gauge every reaction so he can store it in his memory. He always cares more about your pleasure than his own, and he is genuinely turned on when you are. He is slow and gentle, taking his time, and he needs your instructions to figure out what to do.

Once he is familiar with your body, and his own, he’s literally insatiable. He needs you, every day. And since he’s SOLDIER and not completely human, the man has stamina. Jesus christ. He could go for multiple rounds and he’s good to go even after he came. He knows he’s built differently though, like a fucking tank, and unless you’re into overstimulation, he’s perfectly happy with whatever you want.

I think a relationship with Sephiroth, that eventually includes sex, will include a lot of exploration for you both. But especially with Sephiroth. He’s never been this vulnerable and open before, never really understood his sexuality and urges and was kind of disgusted in them. But I think he’d discover a lot about himself, and it surprises him just how much desire he really has.

Sex with Sephiroth is not just fucking. It can’t be. He couldn’t have sex with someone he didn’t trust and have strong feelings for. Sex is an act of love, an act of devotion and adoration, an opportunity to tell you without words just how much he’d do for you and how deeply he loves you. Just like when he kisses you, it’s like he can’t get close enough, and even though you’re pressed against each other he still needs to be closer.

He really loves the feeling of your bare chest against his. It almost makes him primal.

I think he’d be really into edging, and he’d have a praise kink. He’d want to be worshiped but would also be worshiping you. It would be two people literally feeding each other’s egos lmao. I also think, considering how much control and power he does truly have, he’d also be happy to relinquish it from time to time, and enjoy a partner who’s a bit domineering and bossy, and one that takes control. So if you want to push him down on the bed, ravish him and boss him around, and ride him till the sun sets, he’ll be more than delighted.

Loves giving head. Yes, everyone likes receiving it, but when he gives head, it’s like he’ll never be able to do it again. He goes down on you as if it’s his last day on the planet. Absolutely devours you like Shinra has ordered him to. His tongue and jaw never get tired, by the way.

Not very loud but he does get more vocal the more you have sex. Grunts a lot and has a very deep, guttural moan.

He’s very attuned to the senses. Sound, smell, and touch turn him on so much, and have a significant effect on him. The sound of your voice can send him into a frenzied state, and even if it’s the middle of the day and he happens to smell your perfume or scent on his sheets or his clothes, he starts to go crazy.

More often than not he has to tie up his hair every time you have sex or he goes down on you. It always gets in the way, and you do NOT want to find a long strand of his hair in between anywhere.

I can’t decide on whether he has super sperm due to Jenova’s genes or if he’s infertile. Like it’s either one or the other to me and I feel like both make sense, but still can’t quite decide on one. He’d either be the type to have sperm so strong that even birth control couldn’t stop them, or he’d be infertile and no scientific method whatsoever could help. Who knows honestly.

#asks #anonymous #sephiroth #headcanons #sephiroth x reader #ff7 #ffvii #mine

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juletheghoul · 7 months

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AN: The gif of this man as a sheriff, sent my ass into a SPIRAL and this is what happened. I originally wanted to post this for my birthday, but with Canadian Thanksgiving falling on the same weekend there was no way I would have been able to finish lol. I am still trying to post more often, please be patient with me, hopefully this makes up for the lack of posting for the last few weeks. Special thanks to @wheresarizona for betaing and just general wonderfulness, to @just-here-for-the-moment for screaming at me through comments and in whatsapp over this, and to @frannyzooey for screaming at me through discord lol (And for making me some super awesome edits that I will post after!) Hope you enjoy xox.

(PS, I have an idea for a part 2, let me know if you’d want to read it!)

Pairing; Sheriff Frankie Morales x f!reader (Blue / Bluebell as a nickname)

Warnings; sweet, lovestruck Frankie needs his own warning I think-piv sex (wrap it up), swearing, dirty talk, Frankie eats pussy like the champion he is, a non-consensual creampie, angst, longing, yearning, some violence (involving guns / war, accurate for the time period-I tried not to let it get too gory or graphic) brothel mentions - let me know if I missed anything.

Word count; 13k 😅

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

Dust swirled around him as he made his way into town from the train station, the sun beating down on his every step, and although he hadn’t been home in over a decade, he still knew the way just as well as if he’d never left. Difference was he’d left practically a boy, and now he’d come back a man.

People he both did and didn’t recognize passed him as he carried his suitcase down the sunny high street, some of them smiled, most of them ignored him. It made no difference to him. He would be their new sheriff just the same. Besides, there was only one person he cared to see again. There would be time enough for that later, though. First, he had to get settled.

The brothel was busy, a surefire sign of the town’s growth evident in the number of horses tied up in front.

“Well, hey there, sugar–” He tipped his hat and smiled at the young lady calling out to him, smiling as she leaned against one of the columns flanking the entrance, “-you coming to make a woman out of me?” She batted her big eyes at him.

“Don’t count on it.” His tone was polite, his smile in place. She tsked, giggling at his manners before being called away by someone inside.

Sweat was starting to collect on his brow with the effort of lugging his suitcase all the way from the train station, and he let out a relieved sigh when he finally stepped through the doors of the sheriff's office. It was somehow even hotter on the inside.

“Can I help you?” A kid no older than he’d been when he’d left greeted him from one of the two desks in the small room.

“I’m Francisco Morales, I’m here to see–”

“He’s here to see me, he’s my replacement.” A grizzled but familiar voice sounded from behind him, “You’re early.” The older man walked past him on his way to the second, bigger desk, where he put his cowboy hat down before turning to face him once more. “I was under the impression you’d be here by the end of this month. You in that much of a hurry to retire me, boy?”

He set the suitcase down before wiping at the back of his neck with his handkerchief.

“No sir, just wanted to get settled in, have some time to reacquaint myself.” He put the cloth away. “Fix up the house before starting. Thought I’d check in with you first, though.” He’d gotten in plenty of trouble growing up, and most of the time, this man had been the one to pull him by his ear and make him smarten up. It was a novelty to be in this office and not be in trouble.

“Well, you’ve checked. Go on and get settled. The desk and the badge will still be here in a week.” Sheriff Carson had always been one to speak plainly, and he did so now.

“Yes, sir.” Francisco picked the suitcase back up and braced himself for the glaring rays that would greet him just outside.

“Son,” He turned at the sound of the old man’s voice, “I was sorry to hear about your folks. They were good people.” He nodded back at the old man once and made his way back out the door.

—

“Try again.” You crossed your arms, “We both know I’m not paying that much.” You kept both your voice and expression as neutral as you could, keeping your real interest in the supplies he had close to your chest. Interest and necessity always cost more.

He narrowed his eyes, and you raised your eyebrows in return, holding your ground.

“Price is an even one hundred dollars; had to ride halfway around the world to get most of it-” You curled your lip in disgust.

“Bullshit, Dale! You rode to the nearest town, and that’s only a day's ride at the most. I’ll pay fifty, and that’s twice what it’s worth.”

“You tryna rob me, woman?” He crossed his arms, mirroring you, “I’ll go down to eighty, but that’s final.” He rose to his full height, his posture making him look like some giant, petulant child.

“Seventy-five. And I want some tobacco.”

“Goddamn, you drive a hard bargain. Fine.” He extended his hand, and you shook it with a satisfied smile.

“Good man. Pleasure doin’ business with you.”

“Yeah, yeah, robbin’ me more like.” He grumbled good-naturedly and unloaded the supplies while you counted out the money to pay him with. “Goin’ back in a couple weeks, make sure you let me know what you’ll be needin’ before I go.” He tucked the money away and left. The rest of the morning was spent restocking the various bottles and cabinets with your new stock.

It was therapeutic, sitting behind the big mahogany counter to take inventory of your shop. The shop that had taken you years to finally acquire. Every so often, you took stock of all the work you’d put into it and felt a significant amount of pride in what you’d accomplished. All of it done on your own.

The customers came and went throughout the day, buying tinctures and tonics, and you helped them all to the best of your ability until the end of the day eventually found you, and you locked up the shop. With a final sweep to ensure everything was in its right place before closing up for the night.

The sun was blessedly low as you made your way home, but the streets were busy. Ethel, the youngest and friendliest of the girls who worked in the brothel a few doors down from your shop, was smoking her pipe on the porch, waving and smiling as you passed.

“Hey Ethel, how you keeping?” You called out to her, “Fall in love again today?” She laughed, a plume of smoke wreathing around the halo of her hair.

“Of course, saw a tall drink of water today. Think I’m gonna marry him.” She winked, a devilish smile on her pretty face.

“Uh oh, sounds like he’s in trouble.” You laughed, waving as you passed by the house.

“He will be if he ever comes in here, bye Honey, see you later.”

The buildings thinned as you moved further and further away from the main street, giving you a clearer view of the surrounding ranches and houses scattered throughout the plains. Your own house came into view, and you smiled to see it. The view of it had the pride swelling again; it had been run down and ragged when you’d purchased it, but money wasn’t the only thing you’d invested. That house was the result of your blood, sweat, and tears. Hours and hours of elbow grease, blisters, and bruises, cuts, and had you not been very careful, it would have cost you a few broken bones as well.

There was another house on the way to yours though, one that wiped the smile right off your face as you passed it. It was a house that drew your eye no matter how many times you walked past, no matter how many times you tried to ignore it. It was empty now, but years ago, it had been full of life, full of love and mischief and happiness. It had been full of hope and promises. It was empty now, one of the windows broken, much like the promises had been.

You couldn’t help but watch it as you passed; something flashed in the window, but you ignored it. There hadn’t been anyone there for years.

Wish it would just burn down or sell. Wish the ground would open up and swallow it whole.

Your feet ache when you finally make it to your house, eager to unlace the boots imprisoning them. You did your best to hurry through all your chores and feed yourself, the promise of a hot bath and sweet-smelling soap carrying you through.

—

The house was so much worse than he’d thought it would be, and he’d thought it’d be bad. A couple of windows had broken, and half a town's worth of dirt and dust had blown in through them. He sighed at the state of it, knowing his mother would never have let it get this bad, and for once, he was grateful she wasn’t around to see it.

He set his suitcase down and made a mental list of what needed to be done. First thing first, he needed a few things.

With a wagon full of supplies and considerably less money in his pocket, he began the long process of making it habitable. With a stiff brush and an even stiffer broom, the dirt was returned to its rightful place outside the house. The windows that weren’t broken were opened to let in fresh air, and floors and counters were washed. Food and supplies were put away; the bed was made with new, expensive sheets and linens.

He worked his fingers to the bone throughout the day and most of the night until he’d done as much as he could. There was nothing to be done about the windows; the glass had been ordered, but it would be a few days, possibly even weeks, until he could fix those.

By the time he’d boiled water to bathe himself with, he could barely keep his eyes open, and once clean, he dropped into bed and into the sweet abyss of sleep.

It was strange for him to wake up in the same house he’d grown up in, even stranger for him to wake up in the bedroom his parents had owned. He’d been so dead tired that he’d forgotten to close the shutters, and the room was flooded with the golden light of dawn, chasing away any and all hope for a few extra hours of rest.

Those earlier years were vivid in his mind now that he was here, in this house. He could practically hear the younger, wilder version of himself climbing out his window to go find her. Could still taste the stolen kisses in his mouth, could still hear her delighted laugh when he’d wrap her up in his arms and declare his undying love.

He rose, trying and failing to leave the memories of her behind, and got ready for the day. The coffee he’d bought from the general store wasn’t half bad, and he drank the whole pot with gusto, making a mental note to make sure he picked up some more before he ran out.

The current sheriff didn’t want him underfoot while he settled his affairs, and he didn’t plan on making Carson’s life harder, but he did want to reacquaint himself with the town he’d soon be the law in. He figured the best way to do that would be to go into the businesses and talk to the people, and make his presence known.

You should be looking for her, give her an explanation–demand one in return.

He shook his head, ignoring the rational part of his brain. After all, he didn’t even know if she was still here. He thought about her as he left his house, imagining he could see the two of them as they’d been before. He, in his transition into manhood, her in the bloom of her youth, the two of them inseparable. The ghosts caught up to him though, and then he saw her–the real her, standing just outside the apothecary, waving someone away.

She saw him too, and his heart raced. She was even more beautiful to him than he remembered; it was as though for a brief moment, all of the years between them melted away.

A very brief moment.

The look of shock and hurt, and what he hoped had been love on her face was replaced with a look that, thankfully, could not hurt him. It was pure and unadulterated anger, no–fury.

His legs moved, bringing him towards her. This was definitely not how he wanted this meeting to go. He just hoped she’d listen, but judging by the way she stuck up her middle finger at him, it didn’t look good.

–

The nerve of him. The unmitigated gall!

“Wait–” His voice sounded as you turned to make your way back inside the shop.

“No!” You yelled back over your shoulder, not even bothering to face him, even as your heart raced to see him again.

“Goddamnit, woman, wait! Let me talk to you–” He was closer than you thought, barely managing to avoid you slamming the door in his face.

“Don’t you ‘woman’ me, Francisco Morales!” you yelled up into his handsome face, hating how gorgeous he looked, how his neck- one of your favourite parts of him- stared you in the face. “Do me a favour and take off for another fifteen years. Leave me be.”

“Come on, Bluebell, you gotta let me explain.” He managed to slip through the doors before you had a chance to lock them, but it didn’t matter, the pet name he called you stopped you in your tracks and rocketed the fury to new heights.

“Bluebell?” You couldn’t hide the edge of violence in your voice, “How dare you call me that? I am nothing but a stranger to you at this point. You lost any and all privileges to call me anything at all when you left.” He was taller than when he left, but his eyes still burned into yours the way they’d done when you were young and in love.

It would make you laugh if you weren’t still so hurt about how everything had gone down. The way he was standing in front of you, hands on his hips, frustrated frown in place. You didn’t give him an inch, but it hurt to admit just how badly you’d missed him. You shooed the swirl of feelings for him away, focusing on the one easiest to deal with: anger.

“Will you listen to me at least?”

“Why should I?” You turned from him, busying yourself with putting a few of your jars back in their place.

“Well, because I owe you an explanation–” You let out a bark of cruel laughter.

“That’s an understatement.”

“-I know, I always intended on coming back for you. You have to know that.”

“Do I? Do I just have to know that Francisco?” You all but slammed the jar into its slot on the big cabinet, taking up the whole wall behind the counter. “You know, you have some goddamn nerve–” the little bell above the door jingled when the Sheriff walked in, his bushy, white eyebrows raised into his hairline as the look on your face. It didn’t take an overly in-depth investigation to see that Francisco wasn’t exactly in your good books.

“You never could stay out of trouble, could you, son?” He moved past him to stand at the counter before you, “You want me to come back later, sweetheart?”

You sighed, doing your best to smile at the older man.

“Not at all. I have the tonic ready; give me just a moment to wrap it up for you.” You did your best to smile and ignore the big, aggravatingly effective puppy dog eyes shining at you from your peripheral. “Here you are, Sherriff, that’ll be thirty-five cents.” He dug into his pocket, counting out the right amount and handing it over before thanking you and turning to leave.

“You make sure you let me know if you need anything–” He gave Francisco a frown, “-and I mean anything.”

“Yes sir, thank you.” With another jingle, he was gone, but other customers made their way inside, and Francisco sighed.

“You can go ahead and leave. I am at my place of business.”

“I will come and find you later. Then we can actually talk.” He took a few steps back, his hand on the door handle.

“I won’t hold my breath.”

—

Much to his annoyance, the sheriff was waiting for him outside of the apothecary.

“Can I help you with something, sir?” He spoke the words through a tired sigh.

“Boy, I do believe that woman hates you.”

“No sir, that woman loves me. If she hated me, she would have shot me.” He moved away from the sheriff, ignoring the raucous laughter that followed his every step. He ignored it and set about doing what he needed to do, telling himself that he’d be able to deal with it later when she let him explain himself. It made no matter what he told himself, though, his mind wouldn’t let her go.

Instead of using the time productively, he found himself counting the hours until she closed up the shop, loitering around the door like some lovestruck teenager. He scoffed to himself, ignoring the cloying heat of the sun. Isn’t that all he was? Just some lovestruck fool? She couldn’t know that, though, not with the way things had gone down.

Any hope he had of her cooling down throughout the day died at the narrowing of her eyes, her expression now as she locked the apothecary door so different from the one that had kept him going throughout the years he’d spent away.

“Still here, shocking.” She waltzed past him, “Just leave me be.”

“I can’t do that., I need you to listen to me.” It took him a few long strides to catch up with her, “Can I please just explain?”

“Why? What does it matter at this point? I don’t want to hear you–” He stood in her way, blocking her path on the dusty sidewalk.

“Listen! Please!” He held onto her arms, keeping her still so he could look into her eyes. “I know you aren’t happy with me–” She scoffed, and he spoke over her, “I know, but you have to know that I missed you all this time. I didn’t want it to happen like this, but I can’t help that now.” She shrugged out of his grip, crossing her arms.

“You okay, Honey? This man botherin’ you?” An older woman shouted from the porch of the brothel, her hand on the gun at her hip.

“No, Ma’am, I’m fine. I know him–well, I knew him.” She turned towards the madam and smiled, “I got it under control.” She sighed and walked around him, turning to him after a few steps. “You have until I get home.”

He rushed behind her and kept the smile to himself.

“I see you’ve done really well for yourself. It makes me really happy to see how you’ve been–”

“This isn’t an explanation. You’re wasting your time with flattery I won’t respond to.”

“Right, I’m sorry.” He frowned, trying to keep pace with her. “I sent you letters–”

“You sent me a few letters, all of which I responded to.” She spoke loudly, cutting him off. “A few letters in almost fifteen years–”

“I sent you dozens of letters.” It was his turn to frown and her turn to slow down, “I wrote to you as often as I could, even after I stopped getting your responses.” He knew he wasn’t exactly the kind of man her parents had wanted her to end up with. He remembered the sour looks on their faces when he’d come calling.

“I got a few letters the first year and then nothing else.” Her expression was wary, her eyes narrowed. “Did you really write to me? Or are you saying that so I’ll forgive you?” She crossed her arms, stopping to gauge the truth in his words.

“I wrote to you for years, figured I would have to come and talk to you in person, but then I thought maybe you’d met someone else, or moved away, or worse. Then I told myself I’d come and find you, but life is the way it is, and things got in the way. When I heard they needed a new sheriff, I sent word to Carson to see if he’d consider hiring me–I was shocked when he responded yes.” She stared at him, eyes bright but mistrustful. “I swear on my mother's grave.” He took her hand, holding it to his heart. “I should have come sooner-” She pulled her hand away gently, fire still burning in her gaze, but now it was coloured with sadness as well as fury.

“Yes, yes, you should have.” She sighed and continued walking towards their homes, “I am so angry at you, Francisco. I am angry you left and angry you came back.” She looked away from him, her hands flying to her face momentarily before facing forward again.

“I know.” His house came into view, and he fought the urge to invite her in. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.” She didn’t respond, only kept her eyes forward. “What time do you leave in the morning?”

“What?” She frowned.

“What time do you usually leave? I’m not sure what time the Apothecary opens–”

“It opens at eight, but I like to get there early. Why?”

“May I accompany you? I would like to walk with you if I could.” He knew she wouldn’t forgive him so quickly. Her fiery temper was one of the things he’d always loved about her.

“You want to walk me? I am fully capable-”

“I never said you weren’t. I would still like to walk with you. I’ve missed talking to you, it would be a nice way to…reconnect.” He chanced a smile, hoping it would still have the effect it used to.

She raised an eyebrow but didn’t smile in return. Her house was closer now, his time with her coming to an end for the day.

“I suppose I cannot stop you.” It wasn’t a yes, but it definitely wasn’t a no.

“See you tomorrow then, goodnight Bluebell.” He stopped a few yards from her door, waiting until she was safely tucked inside before turning and going home.

The moon was high when you finally dug out the letters you’d hidden away deep in the chest at the end of your bed. The paper had yellowed, and you didn’t even bother getting up off the floor. With shaky hands, you untied the little bundle and spread them out in front of you, trying your hardest not to tear up at the little hearts and flowers he’d drawn in the curled-up corners.

My Dearest Bluebell,

I cannot even begin to tell you how much I miss you. Things here move so quickly, but I’m doing so much, making more money than I’ve ever seen! More than enough for us to start our lives together–

You pushed the letter away, finally letting go of the sob that had been squatting in your throat since seeing him earlier that morning. The love he’d had was so evident in his scratchy script, and the pain of his apparent silence reared its head in your soul to see it again after all of the years you’d survived without him. The last letter he’d sent held no clue as to why he’d ever stop writing, and now a nagging suspicion filled the corners of your mind.

Your mother had made it more than clear that Francisco wasn’t her first choice for you. She’d treated him less than kindly whenever he came calling, would turn up her nose at him whenever she’d seen the two of you together, and had smiled a big, cruel smile at the news that he’d be leaving. Would she have gone so far as to hide letters from him? Something in your heart said yes.

Suddenly, it was too much to see his words surrounding you, and you gathered them up hastily, tossing them back into the chest before surrendering to the exhaustion in your heart and in your bones and getting into bed. You tried to think about something else as you lay there, anything else–but he kept popping up, making you wonder–against your will–whether or not he’d actually be there in the morning.

He didn’t let you wonder.

His heavy knock made you practically jump out of your skin as you did your best to tie the laces of your corset. You chewed on your bottom lip, annoyed with how you rushed to throw on your dressing robe, sighing at the speed with which you made it to the door.

He smiled as you opened the door, testing every measure of self-control you’d built up in his absence with a single dimple.

“You’re here.”

“Yes, just like I said–I figured it would be best to be early.” His gaze raked over you in your half-dressed state, “You look lovely.”

“Sure I do.” You scoffed, “I need more time. I usually leave a little later.” He scratched at the back of his neck, unsure what to say, and you had to work extra hard to keep from laughing at him. “Come in then. You can wait in the kitchen while I finish getting dressed.” You turned and left then, leaving him to close the door.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You kept the door slightly ajar in your bedroom, your heart racing to know that after all this time–he was in the same house as you. You shook your head, shooing away the novelty of his presence to call up the anger and the fury that had kept you from falling apart in his absence.

“The house looks great!” He called from the kitchen, “You shoulda seen the state of mine when I got here.”

You bit your lip, relishing the deep tones of his voice as they filled the house.

“Still haven’t been able to fix the windows–had half a desert's worth of sand in the house. Took me forever to clean it.” He continued speaking as you finished dressing, completely unaware of the way you contemplated whether or not to use some of your very pricey, very precious perfume. You ignored the disappointed little voice in your head as you dabbed a few drops behind your ears and on the inside of your wrists.

“-hopefully, they'll come in by the end of the week-” He was still speaking when you made your way back into the kitchen where he sat at your little table, the long lines of him entirely too big and too wonderful for the tiny space.

“Have you eaten?” You cut off his speech, pulling down the cast iron pan from the rack above the woodfire stove.

“I, uh, I had some coffee.”

“So, no?” You shoved some kindling into the open door of the oven, striking a match to light it.

“Well, no–”

“Okay then.” There was enough time, and you got to work.

“Can I help?”

“No–actually, yes. You can go fetch some water from the well out back.” You shoved the big kettle into his hands and sent him on his way, where he went without comment.

Soon enough, you had biscuits baking and coffee brewing, and the house smelled better than any perfume you could buy. You once again ignored the little voice, the one that curiously sounded like your mother when you put out both the butter and the jam.

When they were out of the oven and steaming, you couldn’t help but smile at how well they'd turned out.

“It smells like heaven in here.” You could practically hear him drooling, and it was with a great sense of both satisfaction and pride that you watched him throw caution to the wind and eat one without waiting for it to cool down. He moaned at the first bite, making your heart soar and silencing the mean little voice.

“You like them?” You had to hear it, had to hear the words in his voice.

“Like them? Honey, I’d kill for them.” You narrowed your eyes at him but let the endearment go without comment. Already, you were softening up for him. “I could eat this whole goddamn plate.” He pulled another one open, no doubt burning the tips of his fingers but continuing on just the same, slathering it with both butter and jam before taking a huge, steam-filled bite.

You ate yours slower, unsure what you liked best, the biscuit or watching him eat.

He poured you a cup of coffee before pouring one for himself, and for a moment, your heart shattered at how right it felt to have him here. For the first time since he’d left, you let yourself feel just how lonely you’d been without him.

“I know you’re angry with me.” He put the remnants of his biscuit down, “I know you think I abandoned you, picked up and found a new life outside of this place, but you have to know–” He reached over, taking your hand in his, “I never stopped thinking about you.” The tears flowed without your permission, what felt like years worth of them dripping steadily onto the bodice of your dress. “I have loved you since I was a boy, and I should have come back the second I thought something was wrong. I’ll never forgive myself for letting you worry or letting you imagine for a single moment that you weren’t everything to me. I know it’ll take time for you to trust me again, but I’ll work as hard as I can.”

You wanted to rip your hand away, to scream in his face and tell him to give you peace, but you couldn’t. Instead, you let the tears fall, let him stand and tentatively pull you towards him, let him crush you in the first hug you’ve had in years. For a moment, it’s as though you cannot get close enough, your hands like claws digging into the fabric of his overcoat, knuckles cramping from the force of your grip, and he sighs into your hair. The relief of the painfully familiar smell of him is so great that it almost knocks you off your feet.

When you finally push him away, you know your eyes are puffy.

“I believe you–” He smiles through his own tears, “-but I am still angry. I cannot just let go of my hurt. Not so quickly.” It takes everything in you, but you untangle yourself from him softly. “I have been living in this for so long, I don’t even know how to stop feeling this way.” The handkerchief that usually lived in your pocket made itself useful now. “I don’t even know where to begin. I loved you so much–” His face contorted in pain, the use of the word in the past tense like a stab to his heart. “-I don’t think I ever stopped. It’s the reason it hurts so much.” He let out a shaky breath, smiling a watery smile.

“I know, I’ll work for it, I promise.”

“I know.”

–

He felt like he was flying. His steps were so light, surely he’d grown wings. He knew it was going to be a long road for them, but for the first time in years, he had hope.

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face throughout the day, the feel of her in his arms, the smell of her in his nose, all of it made him feel like any errant puff of wind would blow him away. He had a skip in his step as he made his way over to the Sheriff's office, uncaring whether the man wanted him there or not. He had to keep his time away from her occupied with something, and learning what it took to do his job effectively was the next best thing.

“I haven’t seen that look on your face in years, it meant trouble back then, and I doubt it’s changed.” Sheriff Carson frowned at him, “Your house all fixed up then?” He didn’t stop what he was doing, instead continuing as he spoke.

“As fixed as it can be, sir, until the replacement window panes come in.” He sat in the chair in front of Carson without invitation. The man only grunted in response.

“I want to start early, get a feel for what you do so I can do it properly.” At this, the older man looked up.

“I know I wasn’t the easiest kid–” The older man scoffed at that but let him continue. “-Yes, yes, I know. I was a helion. I’m a man now, and I’ve grown up. I just want to keep this town safe, want to do my job.” The older man's eyes narrowed, and Francisco frowned. “Why did you say yes when I applied?”

“Part curiosity, part hope, I guess.” He set the pen down, leaning back in his chair, his arms coming to rest crossed on his belly. “You’ve always been a smart kid, Frank, and if you really are as grown up as I think you are, I think you got the makings to be a great sheriff. Especially if you’re anything like your daddy.” It was probably the nicest thing Carson had ever said to him. He didn’t know how to respond.

“I just don’t want you to hurt that girl–” He raised his hands to forestall any response, “I know what you felt for her was real, but she was a shell when you left, and I don’t want to see her like that again. We clear?”

“Yes, sir. I’m here. I’m home for good.”

“Good, now let's get to work.”

Francisco was no stranger to hard work, but Carson seemed determined to make him jump through every single hoop in order to prove he could do this job. It didn’t deter him in the slightest, not with the promise of the life he’d always wanted so close on the horizon. Instead, he took notes, followed Carson, did everything he asked, and paid as much attention as he could, but secretly counted the hours until he would see her again.

He heard the gunshots as he organized the disaster that was Carson’s filing system.

“Suppose you oughta come with.” Carson slipped his holster on, handing a gun to him before leading the way toward the sound.

A half-naked man was rolling around on the ground just outside the brothel, clutching at a blood-soaked arm. His eyes were wild with pain and anger, and he only seemed to get more frantic at the sight of the two of them approaching.

“Sheriff! Arrest that woman!” He pointed with his good hand at the young woman on the porch. “Crazy bitch shot my damn arm-”

“You put your hands on me, and you lose your hand! Them’s my rules!” She was screaming mad, a painful-looking shiner blooming on her pale face.

“Enough!” Carson’s voice rang out loud enough to silence everyone within earshot, “Now–Who’s gonna tell me what happened? I can listen, or I can arrest the lot of you and be done with it.” He rested his weight on one leg, hand resting on the gun at his hip.

The madame stepped out from behind the younger woman, her face austere.

“I think it’s pretty obvious; he took a liberty, smacked my girl around, and he got bit.” She put her arm around the younger woman's shoulder. “Ethel is one of my best. Now she’s got this to deal with. He’s lucky she didn’t shoot his pecker off.” The man scoffed, pulling his shirt on as best he could before moving towards the women.

“I don’t think so, pal,” Francisco spoke directly to him, pulling his own gun and holding it at his side in warning.

“I got witnesses, Carson. Lock this fucker up, and let us get back to work.”

“I’ll need to come in and get some statements, Mabel. You know that as well as I do. Frank, take this moron over to get patched up.”

“So I’m just gonna lose my fuckin’ hand!?” He was incensed.

“Lucky you didn’t lose your life. Now get out of my sight. I’m gonna give you until sundown to be out of here; if not, you can spend an undetermined amount of time in my jailhouse.” Carson’s voice held no room for anything but complete obedience, and after a tense moment, all of the air went out of him, and he let Francisco lead him toward the town physician.

You tried not to be upset when he wasn’t waiting for you outside the apothecary at the end of the day; after all, he hadn’t said he would be. Instead, you locked up as usual and set about making your way home.

“Bluebell!” His voice rang out from behind you, making your head whip around. Your frown turned from annoyance to worry at the sight of dried blood on the white of his shirt. Your hands clutched at the collar of his shirt before you had a chance to catch yourself.

“What happened?” Any and all propriety went right out the window with how frantically you pulled at his layers to see where the blood had come from. “Did you get hurt?”

“No, no, I’m fine–it’s not mine.” there was something in his voice that brought you back to your senses, a tenderness that pierced the very heart of you. His hands held onto yours for a moment before you pulled them away slowly.

“Oh. I’m glad.”

“There was some trouble at the brothel. One of the girls shot some idiot who got handsy. I had to bring him to the physician.” The thought of him anywhere near the brothel made your hackles rise. You stamped the feeling away and continued your walk back home. He fell into step beside you. “What was that?” His smile was big now.

“What was what?”

“That look you just gave me.” He bumped his shoulder into yours, and you frowned.

“What are you talking about? I didn't give you any look.”

“You gave me a look, Blue, when I said the word brothel, a jealous look.” His smile was so wide you wanted to smack him.

“I did not. You are free to do as you please. We aren’t married.” You kept your eyes on the horizon and did your best to ignore the bark of laughter he let out beside you.

“Fine, I’ll drop it. I got no business in a brothel anyway. Even if I’m not married, yet.”

You sighed, ignoring just how right he was.

There was a man with a wagon waiting just outside his house as you passed it.

“Can I help you?” He called out to the man outside his house. You can’t help but notice how he put himself between you and the stranger.

“I have some window panes to deliver.” He walked around to the back of the wagon, uncovering it to show the cargo

“Oh! Yes, I’ll take those.” He jogged over to the man, helping to bring the glass inside. You followed him despite yourself, unable to keep the frown off your face at the state of his home. You were still looking around when everything had been brought inside, and the man had been sent away. “It still needs work, but at least the windows will be intact.” You could see how he surveyed his home, his eye just as critical if not more than yours.

You set down your things.

“Need to boil some water.” You hauled out the biggest pot you could find.

“What?” He came over and took the pot from you, putting it onto the stove for you.

“We need to boil water to clean these floors, and we should wash these windows too.”

“Yes, but I can do it–”

“Francisco. Go get water so we can boil it and get this place in order.” You raised your eyebrows at him and relished the way he watched you. He’d always liked it when you were assertive.

“Yes, ma’am.” He smiled before heading out to his own well.

Once the water was boiled, you got to work with a stiff brush while he set about replacing the broken windows. It wasn’t easy work, getting down on your knees to scrub the years worth of dirt and dust out of every nook and cranny embedded in the floorboards. It was worth it, though, to look up every so often and see the hard lines of him working, both his jacket and waistcoat shed and thrown onto a chair; his shirtsleeves rolled up.

He’d always been beautiful to you, with his big brown eyes and his golden skin, the maddening dimple, even the curve in his nose. He was even more gorgeous now, with age and experience etched on his face, even hardened, he could still make you swoon.

You gasped at the sting, snatching your hand back cat-quick. Blood beaded on your finger and dripped down onto the freshly washed floor, an errant piece of broken glass sitting on the floor. It was a few seconds before he was gathering you up from off the floor and guiding you to one of the chairs.

“I’m okay, just a little cut.” He moved away for a moment, moving towards the back of the house. “Really, Frankie, I’m fine.” He came back with a few pieces of clean linen and a little jar of something clear; you can only imagine what it is.

“I know. I still want to clean and wrap it, though.” He set his things down, moving to the remaining boiled water on the stove to dampen one of the pieces of cloth, using it to clean the wound before opening the little jar. His eyes found yours then– ”You gonna be brave for me?” He held it over the cut, waiting for you to answer. “It’s going to hurt, but I know you’re gonna be good for me.” He winked and then splashed a little bit of the moonshine onto it. He may as well have stuck a hot poker into your hand. “There there, Blue, almost done.”

By the time the stinging abates, your finger is wrapped up, and any evidence of injury is gone.

“Thank you.” You held your hand close to your chest, ignoring the way it shook a bit.

“Of course, I think we’re done for today. I don’t want you to hurt yourself. I would like for you to eat something.” He pulled out what looked like some crusty bread and some dry meat. “It’s not much, but it’s what I have for right now.” He set it down in front of you, giving you everything he had to offer, and for the first time in years, you smiled at him.

“Are you done with the windows?”

“Yes, I just need to get rid of these broken pieces.” He gestured to the pile on the counter.

“Okay, let's go back to my place. I can make us dinner.” You stood to move, and he followed you, protesting for a moment.

“But your hand–”

“My hand is fine. Let’s go.” You moved to pick up your things, but he stopped you, gently knocking your hand aside to carry them for you.

The stew came together as quickly as it could with the way your hand throbbed. The bread, too, and soon enough, you were both sitting at the table eating the steaming food quietly. He ate with gusto, and you wondered briefly if he’d been eating well in his time away. He looked strong, but then again, he’d always been broad.

He pushed his bowl away with a dreamy smile, his hands coming to rest on his belly.

“That was the best thing I’ve eaten since I left. Aside from the biscuits this morning, I mean.”

“I’m glad.” You finished eating as he sat there, enjoying his company far more than you’d ever admit. Once you were done, he grabbed your bowl and put it into the sink, pouring some of the leftover well water to begin cleaning up. “You don’t have to do that–”

“I know. You don’t have to feed me either. I’ll just clean these and then get out of your hair.” You sighed, knowing you wouldn’t convince him otherwise.

“Thank you.”

“No, thank you, you’ve fed me better today than in the whole time I was gone.” You smiled to yourself, half exhilarated, half annoyed at just how much your anger at him had crumbled. “Okay-” He set the last plate on the drying rack before drying his hands, “-I desperately need a bath. I’ll get out of your way. See you tomorrow morning?”

“If you want.” You followed behind him, trying your hardest to keep the hope out of your voice.

“Of course, I want to see you tomorrow.” He moved in quickly, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you had time to protest. “Goodnight Blue.” With a smile and a wink, he’s gone.

Weeks passed, and it could not be said that Francisco Morales wasn’t a persistent man. No matter how hard you tried to hang onto that anger, he excelled in chipping away at it. He was true to his word about working on building back the trust that had been lost, spending any time away from his work with Carson split between you, and working on his house.

He’d become quite the handyman in his time away, and he showcased that in the work he did in both his house and yours. He’d noticed your laundry line had broken and fixed it aggravatingly quickly. He spotted a few leaky spots in your roof and had them fixed at no cost to you, making you wonder just how much money he’d made while away. Aside from the windows and the cleaning you’d both done at his place, he’d replaced the more rundown furniture, and while it was missing some of the personal touches of his mother–it was definitely comfortable and livable once again.

The intense loneliness and craving for intimacy had also hit you full force with his return. You found yourself thinking back to how things had been when you’d been young and wildly in love with each other. How his mouth had always found yours, how he seemed to need to be close to you, his arm often around your shoulder, his hand always finding a way to clasp yours.

It was worse at night when other memories floated out of the isthmus of your mind, filling it with the visions of him above you, his tongue in your mouth, and his cock deep inside. You’d been young but eager to explore one another, and he had been nothing if not resourceful in finding any and all opportunities to get you out of your clothing. Now, the days were filled with new tortures, and you found yourself feeling jealous of the beads of sweat that rolled down his back, envious of the way his shirts seemed to hold him so tightly.

The way his eyes tracked you didn’t help the situation; they were just as wild, just as beautiful, and just as open and honest as they’d always been. His desire for you shining out at you through their honeyed gaze.

He’d been busy that morning, well and truly the sheriff now, and with that came more time away, giving you, in turn, more time alone. Or so you’d thought. The knock was loud, solid, and instantly, you knew it was him. You groaned, staring at the perfectly steaming water of the tub surrounding you.

“Not now, Frankie!” You called out to him from the back of the house–hoping for a moment he’d let you enjoy the sweet steam surrounding you. His knock came again, and you huffed, stepping out of the oasis and wrapping yourself up in your dressing gown. “Frankie, I’m kind of in the middle of something–” You opened the door to him, and instantly, his gaze raked over you, no doubt seeing the way the damp fabric clung to your body, leaving nothing to the imagination. The dumbstruck look on his face filled you with such satisfaction that you let him look his fill before moving your eyes to bring his attention back up. “Can I help you with something?”

“Uh–” He stumbled for a moment, his eyes moving back down to where the gown split, to where your leg and most of your thigh peeked through. “Um–I uh…”

“...You…?”

“Um…Sorry. I brought you a gift.” He shook his head for a minute before decidedly looking you in the eye. “I remember I took your copy; brought you a new one.” He held the book out to you, and for a moment, you forgot to be alluring.

“Jane Eyre?” You grabbed the book, opening it up quickly.

“I remember you reading it to me; thought maybe I could read it to you sometime.” His dimple shined, and you couldn’t help but leap into his arms.

“Oh, Frankie, I love it! I have been looking for a copy forever!” You pressed your face into his neck and relished how tightly he held onto you in return, relished the feeling of his nose buried in the crook of your neck.

“God, Blue, you smell good enough to eat.” His words, his voice, they ran down your spine like a drop of ice on a hot day, hardening your nipples and making you ache for him. You pulled away, biting your lip as you stared at his mouth.

“You could come in… and read to me?” He smiled and closed the door. “I was just in the bath. I could get in and cover myself with a cloth. You could read to me while I bathe.” He nodded slowly, gulping before following you, making sure to grab a chair on his way.

“Give me one minute to get in.” You closed the door, heart thumping at how the colour had gone out of his eyes, leaving them blown black. Within a few tense moments, you were back in the tub with the hangover of the lining cloth covering you under the milky, soapy water. “Okay–come in.”

He looked almost pained as he pulled up the chair beside you, his eyes once again greedy in their quest to map whatever part of you he could see, which admittedly is more than you planned to show him with how transparent the lining is.

“Shall I start at the beginning?” He flipped open the book, but his eyes were still locked on you.

“Yes, please.”

“Very well.” He took a deep breath, and began, his deep, soothing voice the perfect accompaniment to the steaming water.

“Folds of scarlet drapery shut in my view to the right hand; to the left were the clear panes of glass, protecting, but not separating me from the drear November day–Oh, sorry, I already read that.” You smiled to yourself, enjoying the way he couldn’t seem to focus, the way he kept losing his place, and admittedly, it took everything in you not to pull him into the tub with you.

“That’s okay. Can you help me with this?” You offered him the soapy washcloth, “My back? It’s so hard to get it on my own.” You batted your eyes at him, smiling the smile he’d never been able to resist, hoping it still worked its magic on him.

“Let me rinse my hands first. I don’t want to muddy up this paradise.” He knocked the chair over in his haste to reach the washbasin you had on the counter. By the time he was finished and righting his seat, he had shed his topmost layers and rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to his biceps.

You leaned forward, giving him access to the skin of your back and sighing at the closeness of him when he pressed the soapy cloth to it.

“God, I missed you, Blue.” He rubbed at your shoulders slowly, his other hand slipping around to hold the top of your chest, just beneath the dip at the bottom of your throat. “Missed touching you, feeling you, kissing you.”

Your eyes closed, and you thought surely he must feel the way your heart raced just under your skin when his fingers curled softly around your neck.

“Been dying to kiss you for years.” You felt then how the cloth had been discarded, and his bare hand spanned the smooth skin of your back, massaging at your shoulders and the top of your spine. “You ever miss me like that?” His voice was a soft rasp now, lulling you up and back into his hand, letting the linen go and looking up into his eyes.

“Yes–I do, Frankie–all the time.” You bit your lip, staring at his mouth as he spoke.

“Can I kiss you?” He moved forward an inch, leaning in as his hands worked their spell against your skin.

“Yes-” You barely whispered the word before he pressed his mouth to yours softly. It was tender and oh so familiar, the way his lips moved against yours, his tongue seeking entrance and gaining it just like he’d done so many times before. Your kiss was a dance, the steps of which neither of you had ever forgotten. It ached, the way his mouth claimed yours, and you couldn’t help but lean into him, to reach up and hold onto him as he groaned into the kiss.

“I have been dreaming about this since I left–” He spoke between kisses, pressing them to your face, before licking into your mouth once more, “Can I touch you?”

You nodded, chasing his mouth again. His hand slipped down, slick with soap, and then he held onto your breast, kneading one and then the other, his thumb strumming against the sensitive buds while your cunt leaked for him. His eyes moved, watching himself touch you, his lip caught between his teeth,and all of a sudden, it was too much, and you move, pulling away and standing, naked as the day you were born.

“Take me to bed, Frankie.” He stared up at you from his place on the chair, and from the look on his face, you’d think he was looking at an angel. It didn’t last, though; within seconds, he was up and pulling you out of the tub, practically dragging you towards your bedroom.

Your breath came out in a huff when you landed on your back, smiling breathlessly at the look of pure hunger on his face. He chewed his lip as he pulled off his layers, going through them quick enough that you genuinely worried he’d rip them. The water that had clung to your skin from the bath, now seeped into the sheets underneath you as you watched him undress.

“I’m so fucking hard for you, Blue.” He kicked his denim off, tossing everything every which way, “So hard it hurts.” His cock bobbed as he finally crawled his way over to you, and it was then that you saw it, a significant scar on his side, like a starburst. Your hand reached out, and you pressed your fingers to it, looking into his eyes for an explanation.

He pulled your hand up and kissed the tips of your fingers, “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” He continued his pilgrimage across your body, stopping only to kiss your sternum, your hip, and the soft skin of your belly. “I missed seeing you like this so much-“ he opened your legs, groaning at the way your cunt glistened for him. “-I missed how fucking wet you get, how good you taste-“ he barely finished speaking before he dove in, his tongue parting you further, gliding over your clit with desperation.

“I missed you-oh-“ his hands clutched at your thighs, pulling you closer to his mouth, pulling the strings of your arousal to pool for his tongue. “That feels so fucking good, Frankie—“ Your hands found the short crop of his hair, unsure of whether you wanted to pull him up or grind against him. He huffed a cocky laugh into your skin, doubling his efforts and tightening his grip on your thighs, his fingers indented into the skin. The steady glide of his tongue against your clit, up and down, up and down, has you falling over the edge of the cliff and your thighs clamping around his head.

It didn't stop him; his tongue kept moving, slower as you rode out your high. He bit at the plump of your inner thigh as you relaxed, smiling and shiny with your arousal.

“I missed that too.” He moved, pressing his lips to your belly again, moving up and licking a hot stripe between your breasts before slotting his hips between your legs. His skin was so warm, so welcome, that you couldn’t help but sigh and pull him close, your fingers curling into his hair.

“I wanted you to come back so badly-“ You covered every inch of his face in kisses, “Wanted you to stay with me, love me like this.” You licked into his mouth, tasting yourself in the kiss.

“I’m here, Honey, I’ll never leave you again-“ You can feel just how hard his cock is as it pressed into your belly, the two of you clinging to one another in the dying light of the day.

“Promise me, promise me you won’t leave me.” You reached down and wrapped your hand around the sizable heft of him, stroking slowly while positioning him at your entrance.

“Fuck-I promise baby, I promise you-“ His sentence ended in a filthy moan as you pulled him in with your heels, pressing into the meat of his ass, finally having him inside you again after everything.

You moaned at the way he filled you.

The last fifteen years melted away, the long stretch of loneliness feeling more and more like a dream with every deep stroke of his cock.

There were no more words, only whimpers from you and deep groans from him. There was the rhythmic rocking of your bed and the slick sounds of him moving between your legs. His hips snapped faster and faster as he chased his release, burying his face into the crook of your neck to feed all the delicious sounds he made directly into your ear.

“I’m so close, touch yourself—“ his voice sounded wrecked, moving his hips like a piston, his cock kissing that one spot only he ever found. You obey and reach down to swirl your fingers around your clit, rocketing yourself closer to another, more intense orgasm.

He moved his face down, holding onto your breast to suck on your nipple, and then the dam broke, and you clenched around him, moaning his name as you reached your peak.

“Fuck, that’s it, that’s so good, oh god—I’m gonna come-“ his hips sped up, the wet sounds of his thrusts louder after your second climax. You opened your legs wide, giving him space to move, but he stayed put.

“Frankie-“ You started to speak, trying to guide him to spill on your belly; still, he didn’t move. Instead, he pushed in deep, groaning loudly, and it was with a sinking feeling in your stomach that you felt him twitch inside.

You were frozen in place, momentarily shocked into silence.

“God—I’ve been dreaming of that for years.” He sounded drunk, pulling out of you with a hiss to take a good look at his handiwork.

“Francisco, did you just do what I think you did?” Your tone was devoid of any sweetness. “Did you just spill inside me?”

“Yes—“ he frowned, confusion colouring his face along with the flush of his exertion, “—I thought you’d forgiven me? We’re together again-“

“And me forgiving you means risking a baby?” You pulled away, wiggling out from under him to grab a linen shift from your drawer.

“Wait, Blue, come back.” He moved to sit at the edge of the bed, “I’m sorry I didn’t think. It just felt right.”

“Of course it felt right to you. You have no regard for how I might feel.” Your anger burned through you, where once there had been passion, it was now replaced with fear. A deep fear that the next time he decided to up and leave, it might not just be you waiting for him.

“Don’t be like that, sweetheart, that’s not true-“

“I’d like you to leave.” Hot tears flowed down your face at the thought of being pregnant with his child, and alone, waiting to see how long it took him to return the second time.

“Baby, please—don’t make me leave, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that—“

“Leave! I want to be alone. Please just–just go home.” You wiped at your eyes before crossing your arms, doing your absolute best to avoid his gaze. He sighed loudly, moving slowly to gather his things, stopping only to put on his pants and his shirt before tucking tail and heading home.

He’d fucking blown it.

By some miracle, he’d managed to get into her good books, his persistence and determination to show her just how madly in love with her he was–how in love with her he’d always been–weeks worth of it, and he’d messed up in a few minutes. A few glorious, amazing minutes.

He couldn’t help but groan in annoyance with himself every time he remembered it, the euphoria of being with her again, being inside her, of having her wet and needy and so eager for him only to get lost in it and risk a baby they hadn’t yet discussed. Hadn’t even really discussed getting married, not since he’d come back.

He didn’t even know why he’d thought it’d be okay. It had been purely instinctual but also irresponsible and disrespectful. It shamed him that he couldn’t stop thinking about it, couldn’t stop craving it. He ignored it, though, continued on with showing her his reliability and hoped she understood that she was all he wanted.

Sleep eluded you for days, refusing to find you until the blood came. It wasn’t much better when it finally did, though. There was the initial relief, of course, there would be no child born out of wedlock, and you would not be treated like a pariah, but where did that leave you? He apologized for it, constantly. He groveled, he begged for your time and for your love and forgiveness, and it was his. It was there–ready for him, but the fear hid it away.

No matter how consistent he’d been in his time back, no matter how much he’d assured and explained that he wasn’t going to leave, it still felt like there was a clock ticking somewhere you couldn’t see, counting down the seconds until you’d be alone again.

You tried to focus on other things, filling your days with organizing your home, with clearing out things that no longer served you, things that you had brought over from when your mother died and had actively ignored or hidden away until genuinely forgotten. There were old, moth-eaten rags that had once been her clothes, a few books, and an old hairbrush. Amongst her things, though, was a bundle of paper, a fat wad of it.

Confused, you pulled it apart and very quickly realized that they were letters and they were addressed to you. It was jarring to see your name in Frankie’s script and harrowing to realize that you’d had them the whole time without knowing.

With shaking hands, you opened them one by one, and by the third, the tears obscured your vision.

My Dearest Bluebell,

I know you must be angry with me, things aren’t moving as quickly as they should, but this changes nothing–I’m still coming home to you–

He talked about his time in the war, about how differently they did things where he was, and about how much money he was saving, but between all that was the same promise of return. It was everywhere, that–and his pleas for a response from you.

Please sweetheart, I need to hear from you, please let me know you’re okay, and that you don’t hate me–

You sobbed into them. The words were like wounds, the pain of being alone for so long is even sharper now than it had been before. He had been true to his word, writing letter after letter without a single word from you, and despite the pain of knowing that fact, you read every single one. The dates were consistent, every week, almost like clockwork, except for once–when there were a few months between two letters.

Bluebell, my love,

I am okay–but I was hurt. I barely remember what happened, but one minute I’m in the middle of it, fighting, and the next minute I was screaming and then blackness, until I woke up in a hospital. Nurse says I’m lucky to be alive and that I’m going to be okay–

It was too much, all of it, and despite the fact that it was late and he was most certainly asleep, you had to see him.

The moon followed you on your walk towards his house, lighting the path and keeping you company. There was a soft glow shining out from one of his windows, and it inspired hope, making it easier to knock on the door despite the hour.

There was movement on the other side of the door, his heavy footsteps padding across the old floorboards.

“Who’s there?” Suspicion threaded thickly through his words, and you couldn’t blame him; this was no hour for anyone to come calling.

“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?” Your voice was shaky, the tears had abated while you made your way over, but the worried look on his face when he opened the door threatened to let them flow once more.

“What’s the matter? What happened?” He was shirtless, holding his pistol at his side while he looked beyond you to inspect the horizon. “Come in, come in—“ He closed the door behind you, setting the pistol down with a frown. “What’s the matter, Blue? Why are you out at this hour?”

“I—“ you choked on the word, clutching at his letters, “Frankie, I found them, my mother—“ you sobbed out words, choking on them before he sighed.

“Oh Honey, please don’t cry.” He gathered you up, pulling you into the strong cage of his arms, and it was like the floodgates cracked open wide. One palm held the back of your head, and the other was wrapped around your waist. “You didn’t know, it’s okay.”

“I, I don’t even know what to say. I’m sorry,” your voice cracked with the agony of all of the lost years, “you wrote so many letters, and I never answered any of them, and you got hurt—oh god, you could have died!” It was hard to tell if you were screaming or sobbing anymore.

“Hey! Hey! Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he rubbed your back, a soothing gesture, “Hey, stop, stop, take a deep breath, I’m fine. I survived. There was nothing you could have done. I know you would have written to me if you’d gotten my letters, if you knew.” He pressed his lips to your temple. “I’m sorry I didn’t come back sooner. I shouldn’t have left without you.”

“I should have known she’d do something like this. I–” You pulled away to look up into his eyes, “I am so angry at her. She let you carry on, just hid them without a care–even though she knew I was heartbroken.” You brushed his hair back before hugging him again.

“She never did like me. It was pretty cruel of her to do that to both of us.” He was being much more gracious about it than he should have, a testament to his love for you that he didn’t want to bash your mother despite the damage she’d done.

“Miserable old bitch.” You had no qualms about calling her what she was.

“Forget about her. It’s okay now. Thankfully, we’re together again.” He grabbed his pistol and led you further into the house.

Your fingers drew the shapeless pattern onto the warm skin of his chest for what must have been the hundredth time since the both of you tumbled into his bed an hour ago. It was still pitch black outside, the only light being a candle on his bedside. The sun would creep in soon enough, though, and when it did, it would find the two of you clinging to one another.

“I hate that you went through this alone.” Your fingers migrated down to the starburst on the side of his lower stomach, tracing the edges of it softly.

“I’m lucky, I made a full recovery.” His voice was soft, “I saw others get much worse.”

“That doesn’t minimize this, Francisco, you could have died out there, and I never would have known.” You squeezed your eyes together for a moment, ignoring the implications, “Can you ever forgive me? For not writing?”

“Only if you can find it in you to forgive me for being away so long and for what happened.” He pulled your hand up, pressing your knuckles to his lips.

“You’re forgiven for everything.” You frowned, “We hadn’t discussed our future, everything was still so up in the air, and I was terrified to get pregnant. Not because I don’t want to have your children, I was just terrified you'd leave me again and then I'd be here, alone and with a baby.” His face fell, guilt swirling around his features. “That was before. I believe you when you say you won’t and that you’re here for good.” You pressed a kiss to his cheek, then to his lips.

“I understand why that would have scared you. I shouldn’t have done it without permission, though. It was careless of me.” He pulled you closer, relishing in the contact just like he had in the early days. There was a beat, a comfortable silence, and it stretched on for a while, the two of you content to lay there until the stiffness of your dress pulled you away. He helped you take it off until you were in your simple shift, and then you took your place beside him once more.

“Francisco?” You murmured, wondering if he’d fallen asleep.

“Yes?”

“I never said, but I’m sorry about your parents.” He’d been gone for years when they passed.

“Me too.” He didn’t say more, and you didn’t press. “You should get some rest. Will you stay with me?”

“Yes, I don’t want to go.” He got up for a moment, pulling the rest of his layers off before blowing out the candle.

“Good, I didn’t want you to leave.” He slipped into the bed, pulling his sheet over the both of you before pulling you in close. “Goodnight, Honey.”

“Goodnight, Frankie.”

The sun shone bright enough to shoo the last vestiges of sleep away. It found you warm and comfortable under the comforting weight of his arm over your belly and his leg tangled with yours. He looked younger, asleep and you could almost see him just as he was when he’d left, fresh-faced and eager to see and do as much as he could. That fire for life and all it entailed, burning brightly in every expression.

Your thumb traced the line of his jaw first, sweeping up his chin to glide across his pursed lower lip. He twitched but didn’t wake, only tightened his grip on you. Your thumb slid up, following the curve of his nose, up to smooth across his brow.

He stirred again, humming softly before pressing closer still, burying his face into the crook of your neck and tickling you with his moustache.

“Is it morning already?” His voice was sleepy but laced with pure joy.

“Yes, it is. How did you sleep?” Your tone matched his, his joy was contagious, hope and happiness swirling in the air much like the dustmotes that danced in each shaft of light. Your hands had migrated down, fingers flitting across his broad back, relishing every inch, every errant freckle.

“Better than I have in years. How about you?” His lips made their own pilgrimage, from just below your ear, down the column of your neck, and down to your shoulder; each press of his lips widening the smile on yours.

“I slept really well. I forgot how warm you get when you sleep.” He laughed at this, good-hearted.

“Good, means you don’t need to wear this–” His hands slid under your shift, grabbing greedily at your thighs, then your backside.

“Very clever. Don’t you need to get up and go to work, Sheriff? Or am I under arrest?” There was no real bite behind your words.

“Hmm, I don’t know, are you? Are you here to confess to a crime? Aside from stealing my heart, that is.” You let out a bark of laughter, rising slightly to let him take the shift off of you despite the game.

“Is that what I’ve done? Stolen your heart?”

“Oh yes, years ago. First day you smiled at me, come to think of it.” He nodded sagely for a moment before pressing his lips to yours softly, making you both melt and drip for him.

“Well then, I guess I deserve my punishment.” You reached down, shimmying out of your underthings to bare yourself to him. He bit his lip before dipping low to lick at the stiff peak of your breast, soft as his kiss, before taking your nipple into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks. You moaned, watching him enraptured.

“I’ll be just and fair.” He smiled, after letting go with a pop, moving to the next one to give it the same treatment. Your fingers curled into his short crop while your thighs pressed together to alleviate the aching at your core. He sucked harder, frantically, and then there was the edge of pain when he bit softly, making you gasp for a second before he once again soothed with his tongue.

“God, woman, you make me crazy.” His eyes were wild for a moment before he claimed your mouth again, his tongue plundering without mercy.

“I want you, Frankie–give it to me.” You reached down to grasp him in hand, but he moved away, denying you.

“I want to make you feel good. Let me taste you again.” He moved down, his lips mapping a course down to where you wanted him most.

“I want you, though, Frankie, want you to make me sore. You can use your mouth later.” You held your arms out to him, and although he stared at your mound with hunger, he obeyed.

You spread your legs for him, and he slots his hips, pulling your legs high onto his thighs for a moment before sheathing himself in you with one brutal, delicious stroke.

“God, Frankie, you’re splitting me open.” You moaned the words into his ear, and his head dropped into your neck, groaning at your words.

You reach down to hold onto his ass, grabbing onto it as he thrusts.

“You want me like this? Or you want me on my knees like you used to like?” You whispered, and he moaned, his hips stuttering for a moment before pulling out. It was the only answer you needed before you moved to get into position, presenting yourself to him.

His thighs pressed against the backs of yours, his hand landing heavy on one ass cheek before he entered you from behind. He felt deeper this way, hitting something otherworldly with each press.

“That’s my girl, you gonna take my big dick Honey?” You moaned into your forearm, arousal burning bright as a coal in the pit of your belly from his words, from the slick sounds of your joining, from the way your nipples grazed against his bedding.

He bent forward, pulling at your arms to hold them behind your back, and once he did, his efforts doubled. He was a piston, ramming into you hard enough to make your breasts bounce, hard enough to make you scream for him.

He moved you again, pulling you up to meet the solid wall of his chest, his chin hooking over your shoulder, one hand holding onto your breast, the other sliding down to swirl around your clit, shoving you headlong into a blinding climax.

“That’s it, baby, God, I can feel you squeezing my cock. Where do you want me to come? Can I come on your ass?” His words sounded frantic, and you nodded, barely whispering the words.

“Yes, Frankie–” He let you go, and you pressed your face into the mattress once more, spreading your legs a little wider before you felt him pull out, feeling the way his hand grabbed and spread you open while the other one pumped between your legs. You felt the hot spurt of him on the cheeks of your ass and the small of your back just as you heard the filthy groan he let out.

You both caught your breath for a moment, riding the wave of release before he moved and within a few minutes, he passed a cool, wet cloth across your skin, cleaning his mess off before discarding it and falling into bed beside you.

There was sweat on his brow, there was sweat on yours, too, but it didn’t matter, the euphoria was rich and sweet as fresh cider.

“I missed you so much, Frankie.” You turned to face him fully, the two of you naked and comfortable.

“I missed you too, Honey.” He pulled you close, wrapping you up in his arms, where you belonged.

–

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#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie x reader #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #francisco x reader #frankie catfish morales #frankie morales #triple frontier #triple frontier au #tp au #frankie x f!reader

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bangtanintotheroom · 11 months

Text

Spin You Like a Hit Record (M)

She seh she want come round a mi yard

Mi seh gyal turn round mek mi fuck you hard

Mek mi spin you like a hit record

Mi spin you like a hit record

• Pairing: Clubgoer!Bangchan x Clubgoer!(F)Reader

• Genre: Non-Idol!AU, Smut, One Night Stand (?), Strangers to Lovers

• Rating: 18+

• Words: 12.1k

• Summary: No one who’s ever stepped into this club can match your moves. No one dared to challenge you until a man with cheesy pick up lines and bulging muscles did. There’s no way this guy could impress you, right?

• Warnings/themes: swearing, dirty dancing, grinding, clubbing, Chan being a sexy dork, flirting, drinking, Y/N getting a bit angry, Felix being a cockblock and a chaotic roommate 💀, making out, all the teasing, dirty talk, breast play, praise, fingering, oral (f. and m. receiving), face-sitting, 69, hitting it from the back, a teensy tiny hint of dom!Chan, protected sex, mentions of drooling, mentions of exhibitionism, the morning after

• Playlist: 🎧

• Song Inspo: Come Roun - Mavado (Spotify | Soundcloud)

• Notes: IT’S FINALLY HEEEEEERE 🗣️ I did not think it’d take this long, that Chan brainrot is no joke lol A big fuck thank you to @minisugakoobies @minttangerines and @sugalaritae for pushing Mr. Bang Christopher Chan onto me in our group chat. It’s my first time writing a non-BTS fic since I started this blog, but I hope you guys will enjoy this regardless! 💕 and kisses for my sexy stack of pancakes Griddle who beta’d this for me on short notice!

• Taglist: @jimilter @joontied @minisugakoobies @minttangerines @sugalaritae @crisle19 @codeinebelle @kookprada @saweetspoiled @effielumiere @m1sss1mp @amaranth-writing @dvalitaes

This was your favorite environment.

The one place where you could let loose and not give a flying fuck about what anyone else in the room would think. Then again, the usual mindset of every other person in this area was either one of the two categories; how can I dance like her or how can I dance with her. It brought you confidence that could remain for the rest of the night.

The club was a decent-sized place that was always so packed that it had the potential to become a fire hazard. Monday, Thursday, Saturday; it didn’t matter what day it was, people were there ready to dance and drink their hearts out.

The music was what really brought everyone in. A mix of R&B and hip hop, both old and new, inspiring club-goers to gyrate and belt out the lyrics into the neon air. But there was a specific genre that piqued your interest from the moment you first stepped into this establishment. Hearing the bouncy rhythm and background instruments originating from various Caribbean islands took over your soul (you couldn’t think of a less dramatic way to explain it). If you were feeling less-than-stellar when you entered the building, the music was quick to fix that. Knowing that over time, you would become one with the beats, gyrating to your heart’s content.

Nothing could kill your vibe.

Well, except for when strangers tried to creep into your personal bubble.

Now, you didn’t mind someone coming up to dance with you in the beginning. It took two to tango and it could be fun having another person to enjoy the music with. But it became clear after some time that not many of them could match your moves.

They were too slow.

They were off-beat.

They were too erratic in their moves.

Your patience dwindled with these people, which led to you turning them down the second you sensed trouble. Some backed off with little issue, finding another club dweller to put their moves on instead. Some didn’t like to take no for an answer and led to passive-aggressive jabs at your dancing before storming away.

Whatever.

Not your problem.

You had been here for over an hour now. About six people had approached you, varying energies, but with the same disappointing results. The last one was particularly grating, constantly trying to guide you to their awful rhythm. They must have missed your ass about three times before you gave them the typical look of disappointment. But they insisted on trying over and over until you had to take their hands off you and tell them to leave you alone. The look in their eyes screamed that they wanted to call you some name, but they chose wisely to walk away instead.

Good, you didn’t feel like cussing someone out tonight.

Now that you were free from lackluster dancers, your throat was getting parched. It was time to re-hydrate, especially before the fire songs came on.

You made a beeline over to the crowded bar, nabbing an empty spot as soon as it opened. You rested your arms on the sticky countertop, tapping your pointed nails as you waited for one of the bartenders to acknowledge you. While you were watching a particularly flamboyant and agile bartender toss and flip his shaker, you heard a voice call from your side.

“Hey, how you doin’?”

Oh jeez.

Your immediate reaction was to give whoever spoke a fake and dismissive smile, but something about the way they sounded intrigued you. Was that an accent? It was hard to tell with the volume of the music.

Taking a chance, you turned your head to the right.

Ooh. Okay then. Hottie in your vicinity.

Decent height. Short black hair. Very handsome with a unique nose and full lips.

A very real smile automatically took over your glossy lips.

“Hey. Couldn’t be any better.”

The good-looking stranger shot you a megawatt grin, complete with dimples and everything.

“That’s good. You looked like you were having fun out there.”

Your torso turned towards him a little more.

“You were watching me?”

“Kind of hard not to.”

This type of exchange had become familiar to you lately. Someone walked up and tried to hit on you by complimenting your dancing skills. Depending on the person, it had a 50/50 chance of working. But hearing this guy do it in his (what you quickly identified as) Aussie accent upped the probability.

Would he get any farther than this, though?

“Oh?”

“Yup. Made me think you might live here with the way you were moving to those songs.”

A giggle escaped you, to your surprise.

“What can I say? I’m one with the music.”

The man next to you repeated your laugh, eyes squinting in delight.

“Oh, I believe it. Oops, where’s my manners?”

He held a hand out towards you, causing your eyes to travel up his muscular arm in intrigue. Whoa. Look at those biceps. Bless this man for wearing a sleeveless shirt tonight.

“I’m Chan.”

Right. Pay attention, Y/N. Take his hand and speak!

“Y/N. Nice to meet you, Chan.”

The mystery hottie named Chan gave you a handshake with enough pressure to wonder if he was holding back. With the muscle he was packing, surely he was hiding his strength.

“Likewise! You mind if I buy you a drink?”

You shrugged, lips quirked upwards.

“If you’re offering, sure.”

Chan grinned, taking your drink order before continuing to have a mild conversation with you. It seemed like it was going to take a while before the two of you were acknowledged. You didn’t mind, finding him to be pleasant to speak to. From his appearance alone, you assumed that he would be one of those cocky muscleheads who did the bare minimum when it came to chatting up women.

Oh, did he prove you wrong.

He was actually rather sweet in the way he spoke to you, asking if your night was going well so far. The man was particularly tickled in your retelling of some of the disastrous events from the dancefloor, letting out giggles that made him even more endearing in your eyes. You almost didn’t want the drinks to come; that’s how much you were enjoying his presence.

But after the first and even second drink, you were still talking to Chan, the both of you sitting on stools now.

This was odd. Your main goal was usually to come and dance up a storm at this club, not chat with a complete stranger. It was like Chan was a magnet. Pulling you in and keeping you by his side unless some opposing force came in and tugged you away.

You spoke too soon, it seemed. For the DJ made a familiar announcement that had your ears perking up.

“Alright y’all, I’m lovin’ this crowd tonight, the energy is beautiful up in here! But now I wanna turn it up a notch. In a few minutes, you’ll see what I mean!”

Damn. Your favorite part of the night was coming up.

How could you cut this interaction short, though? You weren’t quite ready to stop talking to Chan…

But…

You let out a sigh when his head was turned, not wanting him to think you were tired of his presence. Far from it.

“Hey Chan?”

He looked back at you, raising a dark brow.

“What’s up?”

“I hate to break up our little chat, but I’d like to get back to the floor.”

Chan seemed to be averse to your departure, full lips pouting in disappointment. Cute.

“That’s a shame, I was enjoying your company.”

You gave an apologetic smile, not really wanting to split yet either.

“The feeling’s mutual, trust me. But the DJ’s about to play some fire music and I don’t really want to miss it.”

He now raised his other brow in intrigue.

“Better than what’s already been playing?”

“Mhm! I mean, it’s not everyone’s cup of tea, but I like it.”

Just as Chan was about to speak again, you heard a familiar tune float out of the speakers, your head whipping towards the dancefloor. A chorus of cheers and hollers erupted from the crowd, a few people running from their seats to join the wave of grinding bodies. Your fingers twitched around your glass.

You were dying to be out there.

And then you looked back at your companion.

But something was telling you leaving this man would be a mistake.

If he was really interested, maybe he wouldn’t mind waiting for you to finish your dance. And if he was the impatient kind, then tough shit.

“Chan—”

“Is this what you were waiting for?”

The interruption made you blink, nodding as you watched an inquisitive expression take over his handsome face. After a moment, he smirked.

“Dancehall, huh? Great taste.”

He appreciated this kind of music too? What else were you going to add onto the one-sided list of pros and cons?

“Thanks. I didn’t picture you as the type to know about this.”

Chan’s dark eyes widened, looking taken aback.

“Of course I do! I listen to almost anything. But this stuff right here, this is no joke. I don’t blame you for wanting to go.”

You couldn’t hold back a grin, no matter how hard you tried. Why couldn’t there be more people like him? You definitely had to catch up after you were finished.

Just as you were about to express your gratitude, Chan cocked his head and spoke, “Actually…”

The expectant look he gave was outright charming.

“Do you mind if I join?”

Uh oh.

Here we go. Damn, and it was all going so well too.

Not that you didn’t want to get the chance to grind up on this attractive man, but if he messed up out there, it just might change your overwhelmingly positive opinion on him.

You’d have to turn him down. It sucked, but it was for his own good.

Alright, just remember how this went the last time someone dared to ask you to dance.

Lowering your lids, you rested an elbow on the counter, clasping your hands together while your mouth flattened into a humorless line.

“You can’t keep up with me.”

This man wasn’t fazed by your dismissal. If anything, he seemed to enjoy the challenge, reflecting your position before a tongue came out to run over his straight teeth.

“Don’t count me out yet, baby.”

Your cold front cracked a mite at the nickname and the way Chan seemed so confident in himself. Was it real? Or was he just bullshitting until he got onto the floor with you and made a fool of himself?

The drinks you had must have been extra strong tonight as you found your resolve wavering faster than usual.

Well, only one way to answer your questions.

“Fine.”

Straightening up, you brushed some loose hairs out of your face before lifting your chin up a bit. You held a hand out towards your challenger.

“Let’s see if you can back up that mouth.”

You would think Chan had won the lottery with the dazzling grin he gave. He wasted no time in taking your palm in his, warm and heavy and leaving you wondering what it could be capable of. There was time for that later, if he played his cards right.

Now you were leading him onto the dancefloor, bobbing and weaving through the gyrating club-goers. You glanced back to see if there was any hesitation on his face as you pulled him into the middle.

Nothing.

If anything, he seemed even more excited.

Interesting.

Once you found a spot large enough for the two of you, you turned to face him, raising a brow.

“Last chance.”

Chan chuckled, shaking his head at your warning.

“Ready whenever you are.”

Lips quirking, you took a head start, quickly identifying what point of the song was playing right now. Your body began responding to the beats, hips popping side to side as you kept your eyes locked with his own. He was quick to follow you in succession, starting off with simple two-steps, albeit with a little more flourish than the other dancers.

You noticed how easily Chan seemed to catch the tempo on his own. His eyes never straying from yours to watch your movements in hopes to imitate them.

So far, so good.

But this was only the beginning.

Deciding to go up a level, you stepped closer to him. Leaving only a few inches between your bodies, you allowed your hips to come so close to brushing against his. Watching his face to see if he would flinch or back down, your curiosity was intrigued when he did neither.

In fact, Chan closed the gap before placing those strong hands of his on your waist. The touch made a jolt go up your spine, intensified by the smirk he shot down at you next.

“This alright?”

Either it was the music or the distraction from his warm palms that almost had you missing what he said.

“Yeah.”

From then on, you both remained silent, letting your bodies do the talking.

Your dance partner matched your moves with little second-guessing, even taking the lead at times. After a certain point, Chan took one of your hands to spin you around a few times, a laugh escaping your lips at the gesture. The sound stopped when you felt him pull your back flush against his front, gut twisting at the heat and firmness of his body. You almost missed your next step, but you were quick to collect yourself.

This gesture was a lot more intimate than before, the atmosphere taking a slight turn into something a bit sultry. It didn’t help that the man behind you took to resting his head next to yours, lowering the percentage of your body that wasn’t pressed against his. You could feel his breath occasionally washing over your cheek.

“Tired of me yet?”

Is he for real?

“Not at all. I’m liking what I’m seeing so far.”

Chan chuckled, lips vibrating against your ear. “Good.”

The two of you continued your dancing, the next couple of songs passing by swiftly. You were happy to see that he wasn’t full of shit when it came to his skills. You even challenged him by throwing a sudden move in at random moments, wanting to catch him off-guard. But he was quick on the draw, following any dips or grinds with ease.

The chance that you would spend more time with Chan later was growing by the second.

But then the DJ started transitioning into a tune that you knew all too well. You couldn’t help but wonder whether your companion could handle this kind of song or if it’d be a little too far out of his league.

“Oh shit! Haven’t heard this one in a while.”

What?

Chan couldn’t see your brows raising until you turned your head, surprised by the eager expression on his handsome face.

“This song?”

“Yup.” He cocked his head at the disbelief in your eyes. “What?”

“Sure you can handle this?”

Just like before, there was no caution to your question, his lips twisting into a secure smirk.

“Wait and see.”

You hoped he didn’t feel the tremble that ran through your body just now. Something about the sheer confidence of this man got to you with little effort.

Not wanting to keep him waiting, you faced forward once again, hips starting to roll to the familiar rhythm. You were slower and more deliberate in your movements this time, trying to take the lead. Chan seemed to have other plans, though, tightening his hold on you before pulling you back just as he was grinding forward.

Whoa.

There wasn’t an ounce of modesty in that move just now. Alright, don’t back down, Y/N.

You raised your arms in the air, starting to lower your body down. Chan followed suit until the two of you were nearly squatting, giving you a little more leverage to work with. You weren’t shy in winding your hips back, the fabrics of your pants providing friction every time the two of you made contact. A part of you was hoping he’d slip up a bit, just to know you were having an effect on him. It wouldn’t influence your currently high opinion of him at all.

But if he was getting worked up, it wasn’t showing in the way he closed whatever gap was between and grinded from the bottom of your ass all the way to the top.

Oh no.

Godammit, you could feel whatever he was hiding in those pants of his rubbing against every inch of your bottom. And now your stimulated brain was running with scenarios of just what could be in his pants.

You swallowed hard.

Were you actually getting turned on from dancing alone? This was a first.

Okay, focus.

Push back, Y/N, push back.

It didn’t do much, of course. Especially since he practically jerked his hips forward all of a sudden. If it wasn’t for his hands, you would’ve stumbled in shock.

Thank God he couldn’t see the flustered expression on your face right now.

“Mind if I try something, baby?”

Oh? Something else up his sleeve…well, lack of sleeve.

You shook your head, only to have Chan maneuver your body so you were bent over at the waist, much to your surprise.

What he did next almost had you keeling over in a stupor.

The man behind you took a firm hold of your hips before grinding against you with everything he had in his well-muscled body.

Oh. Shit. Fucking shit.

You know, maybe you shouldn’t have assumed Chan wouldn’t be up to par. Because if it wasn’t for your clothes, this man would be straight-up fucking you on the dancefloor right now.

No no no. This could not continue, not unless he wanted you to pounce on him in the middle of this crowd.

You had to take the reins and let him know that you weren’t backing down.

Straightening your body up, you took his hands and pulled them away before spinning around to face him.

Okay, this was your last resort. Surely he wouldn’t be able to handle this move.

Tickled at the confused expression on Chan’s handsome face, you went and hooked your leg around his waist, giving back just as much force as he did when he rolled from behind. Judging by the way he bit his lip, you must have caught him off-guard.

Alas, your victory lap was cut short when those same lips twisted into a wicked smirk. You realized how screwed you were when he took a firm hold of your waist and repeated the motion from earlier. This was a huge mistake!

There was no cushioning to protect you from the sensation of his clothed crotch grinding against yours.

Goddamn. You were wrong yet again.

Feeling Chan rub against you over and over again started a familiar heat between your legs that increased with each grind. You were quickly losing control over your body, having to grab onto his firm shoulders to steady yourself. Your eyes remained steady on his own, though, even if you wanted to close them while pleasure slowly crept up your spine.

You were looking for some sign on your dance partner’s face that he was being affected as well. Something. But there wasn’t much to work with. His smile was no longer present, but the rest of his expression remained impassive. Maybe he just had a really good poker face?

You managed to hold back on making any obscene sounds until a roll at a certain angle brushed right where your clit was. Oh fuck. Did you just moan out loud? At least the music covered it up…hopefully.

Just when you felt like you were about to pin this man and ride him like a prize horse, the song ended, music returning back into its usual genre. The bubble of lust around you and Chan burst with the shift. But the air still felt heavy. Especially with the way the two of you would just not stop staring at each other.

There was no way this would be the end of your interaction with the handsome stranger tonight.

Absolutely not.

You were pleased to see that you weren’t the only one who had broken a sweat, the edge of Chan’s hairline shining and dotted with light perspiration.

“How was that?”

What? That’s all he had to say? After the way he spun, writhed and bent you over, that’s what came out of his mouth?!

Alright. He wanted an answer? You would give him one.

With your eyes narrowing for a moment, you made a grab for his hand before beginning to drag him through the dancing bodies. You narrowly avoided having your foot stepped on until the two of you hit an open area. Spotting the hallway leading to the bathrooms, you kept pulling on Chan until you were deep enough to not be interrupted.

You swiftly turned around to have your back facing the wall. Chan’s mouth opened in what was sure to be a question until you grabbed his shoulders and tugged him down to attach your lips to his.

There was his damn answer.

He seemed to like it as you felt a groan rumble against you before those strong hands of his made a grab for your hips once more. You felt him tug until they were pressed to his.

Oh. Now you could tell that the grinding had some kind of effect on him.

Chan didn’t give you reprieve, snaking his tongue out to pry your mouth open. He was on a mission as he landed on your own appendage, tangling with controlled movements that had you feeling weaker than before. Between that and the nips to your lower lip he’d give occasionally, you would forget just where you guys were.

In a nightclub across the hall from restrooms with semi-questionable hygiene. Probably had a few drunks tossing their cookies in there too.

The more you thought about it, the more you realized that this wasn’t an ideal spot. You wanted to get a taste of whether Chan’s moves were only designated to the dancefloor or not.

When he broke off to begin planting kisses on your neck, you mustered up the strength to air your intentions.

“I wanna get out of here.”

Another kiss. “With me?”

“No, by myself— Ah—”

The nibble underneath your jaw made your words catch, much to Chan’s humor, judging by his tone as he teased, “Aw, I thought we were having such a good time together, baby.”

Clicking your tongue, you reached up to give an earlobe a light tug. “Stop that.”

“Stop what?”

“Pissing me off.”

An unexpected giggle came out before he whispered in your ear, “But you’re so hot when you’re mad.”

This man.

“You’re gonna see me real mad if we don’t leave this damn club.”

Another laugh came from Chan as pulled his head back to look at you.

“Fine, fine. Where are we going?”

“Your place, my place, a hotel, I don’t fucking care.”

You probably sounded whiny, but at least he seemed to share the sentiment as he stepped back.

“Well, lucky for you, my place is a few blocks away. C’mon.”

He held a hand out that you immediately took, allowing Chan to escort you through the club and to the front doors, ready to continue the night away from wandering eyes.

Chan wasn’t joking when he said he only lived a few blocks down, but it felt like longer to you, thanks to how fucking horny you were.

It was so bad that you almost tugged him down an alleyway whenever the two of you had to wait at an intersection to cross. But oddly, having his thumb occasionally rub the back of your hand would ground you a bit. Well, that and the charming smile he’d shoot down.

It was almost like he could tell how restless you were.

Finally, he led you into an apartment building and straight to the elevator, the ride going up a few floors before you both got off.

Chan pulled a set of keys out of his pocket as the two of you headed down the hall to a door with a welcome mat that had a picture of a cat on it. The sight was unexpected and brought a tiny giggle out of you.

“It’s not mine, my roommate picked it out.”

“Chan, you don’t have to lie. I think it’s cute!”

He paused in unlocking the door to shoot a pout.

“I’m not!”

“Uh huh.”

Realizing he wasn’t going to change your mind, he rolled his eyes and got the door open, motioning you to step in first before locking it behind him. As soon as the two of you took your shoes off, he reached for your hand once again and began walking.

Guess you weren’t going to get a good look at his apartment right now.

Chan guided you down a hallway before stopping in front of one of the doors, presumably his bedroom. He grabbed the doorknob and turned it to push the door open, only for the smile on his face to drop.

You couldn’t see what the problem was until you peeked around his body, spotting a desk setup with a sizable computer monitor against one of the walls. And in the chair in front of it was a person, clearly immersed in the game they were playing.

“Get out, Felix.”

Chan’s concealed irritation caught the attention of the man named Felix, swiveling his chair around to shoot a bothered look. His appearance was the polar opposite of his roommate’s, slender with softer facial features and blond hair that draped over the back of his neck. In your eyes, he was, dare you say, quite a pretty man.

“But I’m almost done with this level, bro!”

Oh wow. Didn’t expect that voice to come out of that face.

Your lover for the night growled under his breath before addressing him once again with a little more attitude.

“Mate, get out of here! You’ve been in that chair since I left hours ago, go do something productive, for Chrissakes!”

Felix’s eyes narrowed at Chan, tsking before turning back around, clicking the mouse and keyboard harder than necessary. In a minute, the bright colors on the screen disappeared, leaving nothing but a basic desktop wallpaper illuminating the room. The leaner man pushed the chair back and stood up before heading towards the two of you.

“Asshole. This is me being productive.”

Clearly Chan wasn’t having it, dark eyes still boring a hole in the other as he gently moved both of your bodies aside so Felix could leave the room. But just before he hit the threshold, he stopped in his tracks, looking you up and down with thinly-veiled curiosity.

“Aren’t you at least going to introduce me to your new friend?”

Chan seemed ready to tell him off, yet reined it in at the last second, his broad shoulders lifting and lowering as he sighed with exasperation. He held out a free hand to gesture between you and Felix.

“Felix, Y/N. Y/N, Felix.”

The both of you waved to each other, Felix’s pretty face stretching into a cheeky smile.

“Hey Y/N. Hopefully Chan doesn’t drool on you while he’s on top.”

This seemed to be the last straw for the muscled man, letting out some colorful words before letting go of your hand. He placed both of his on Felix’s shoulders, turning him towards the hallway in order to push him out with more force than necessary. This didn’t seem to bother the other man, laughing at both of your reactions.

Just as Chan was grabbing the door, Felix seemed to have one last thing to say.

“Oh, and the back of his neck is his weak spot!”

Your brows lifted in intrigue just as the door was slammed in the other’s face, watching as the lock was turned with a loud click. You heard Chan mumbling under his breath, only able to hear the words ‘dick’ and ‘cunt’ and something about the electric bill, lips twitching in amusement until he turned towards you with a sigh. A hand came up to rub the back of his neck.

“’M sorry about that. My roommate can be a real pain in the ass sometimes.”

You giggled, stepping close to take said hand in yours, giving it a light squeeze.“No worries. Not the worst situation I’ve walked into.”

That adorable smile of his made a comeback, thanks to your reassurance.

“Good. Oh, and whatever he said was bullshit.”

Your head cocked to the side as you played with his fingers.

“What was?”

Chan huffed lightly at how you were playing games, placing his free hand on your hip to pull you flush against his firm body.

“How I drool.”

You looked off to the side, pretending to recollect what Felix had said before looking up at him once again.

“Oh yeah? Because I was more curious about the other thing he mentioned.”

You felt the hold on your hip move slowly towards your ass before cupping it.

“The neck thing?”

“Yes.”

Chan’s lips peeled back, flashing straight teeth. “You’ll have to find out for yourself.”

Your smile matched his to a T, taking your other hand to wrap around the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss. It had been too long since his luscious lips were on yours.

The two of you picked up on where you had left off at the club, with less concern about who would see what was going on. It was just you and Chan in this lamp-lit room, tongues and teeth working .

Just when you were ready to take things up a notch, you felt his grip on both sides of your hips before he began guiding you to walk backwards. Your legs automatically moved in response, only stopping when he tightened his hold.

Chan broke the kiss, allowing you to realize that you were at the foot of his bed now. He didn’t give you time to think more on it, reaching for the hem of your top. With a quick glance at your face, he waited for your nod before starting to work the garment up and off. There was a bit of fumbling towards the end, thanks to the multiple straps, but he managed to divulge you of it.

The swear that left him at the sight of your bare breasts made your lips tilt and your ego stroked. You let him admire you for a little longer until the urge to see what was hiding under his shirt became too strong to delay.

Your hands reached for it, thankful that he lifted his arms up the second your fingers brushed the fabric. You removed it faster than your own top, eyes trained on every inch of skin that was revealed. Within no time, you were granted a full view of his exposed torso, jaw dropping at the sight.

“Oh shit…”

You had figured Chan was well-muscled, thanks to his exposed arms and the way he felt against your softer body, but this was insane.

A chiseled chest that rose and fell with heavy breaths. Rippling abs that tightened with each inhale. Just…straight-up muscle. How often did he go to the gym to be blessed with a body like this?

“Y/N.”

Chan’s amused voice cut into your foggy thoughts, making you blink in shock. Oops. Did you space out?

You heard a chuckle before a hand came up to carefully hold your chin, tipping your head back up, making sure your eyes were on his own and not his figure. Chan didn’t seem offended at all; if anything, the twinkle in his dark eyes expressed flattery.

“I don’t mind you staring, but I’d really like to get my hands on you now, babygirl.”

Oh. Well, you couldn’t say no to that at all.

You gave an eager nod, receiving one of his adorable giggles before his lips captured yours again. While you were occupied, you felt him begin to work on your pants, undoing them enough to be able to slide them down. The kiss broke once the waistband went over the curve of your ass, Chan crouching down to bring your bottoms down to your ankles.

Good thing you picked one of your best-looking (albeit somewhat uncomfortable) pairs of panties today; he was getting an eyeful at the moment.

“What the fuck, you’re so hot—”

If you weren’t careful, you were going to leave this place with a big head with the way he was throwing praise your way. Despite the way your cheeks were flaming, you played it cool, reaching down to tip Chan’s chin up now, directing his admiring gaze up to your face.

“You already got me in your room, no need to lay it on thick.”

Chan’s eyes creased in the corners as he grinned, another giggle escaping from his dimpled smile.

“Sorry. My mouth tends to beat my brain sometimes.”

How this man could go from confident to adorable in a split second was a mystery to you.

But you could try and solve it later; right now, you needed him back up here.

“It’s alright, baby—”

You motioned him to stand up, wrapping your arms around his taut waist before pressing your bare breasts against his torso.

“Never said I didn’t like compliments.”

Chan huffed in enjoyment, laying his hands on your hips.

“Good to know.”

A giggle escaped before he swooped down to cover your mouth with his own, making quick work of prying your lips apart with his tongue. You opened up with little resistance, but it widened when you felt a firm grip on your ass out of nowhere. The way Chan kneaded it had you melting into his touch, forgetting about any other part of your body that wasn’t squished against his right now.

Which was why you were surprised to find yourself falling backwards all of a sudden, body bouncing on top of his bed.

Chan chuckled at the bewilderment on your face before crawling on top of you, lust-filled eyes traveling over your sprawled figure.

“I almost didn’t approach you, y’know.”

The confession caught you off-guard, causing your brows to furrow.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

The man above you leaned in to begin pressing kisses over your jawline and neck, throwing in nips in between that made your breath hitch.

“I saw how you kept turning down all those poor bastards. Kept wondering if I should even bother taking a chance.”

A dig of Chan’s teeth into a hot spot right under your ear had you gasping, followed by a soft moan as he soothed the bite with his tongue.

“But you went ahead and did.”

A puff of air against your neck as he chuckled.

“Only after I had a drink.”

You matched his laugh, deciding to rest your idle hands on his back, savoring the expanse of muscle underneath.

“Nothing wrong with liquid courage. I’m glad you came over.”

Chan lifted his head after pressing his lips to your collarbone, eyes sparked with wonder.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

You felt a light tremble run through him when your nails dragged over his skin.

“You definitely proved yourself tonight. That was the most fun I’ve had in that club in ages.”

Thanks to the lamp, you could see the tips of Chan’s ears flushing, his cheeks lifting in bashfulness. To go from devouring your neck to flustering at your words in such a short span of time…what duality.

“Glad to hear it. Besides—”

Your hips jolted when you felt his own press down, the unmistakable feel of his erection making itself known.

“The fun’s only beginning, no?”

Shy Chan has officially left the building. Especially with the groan he gave when you rolled up into him.

“Yes, it is.”

Leaning up to grab more kisses, you were only granted the indulgence for a short while before he broke away. Motioning you to lay back again, he was quick to replace his mouth on your skin, traveling down until he reached your breasts. Chan gave attention to the sensitive area, alternating between feathery licks and thorough sucks.

You were eager to let him know how well he was doing with back arches and moans, nails still tracing patterns on his warm skin. Although the patterns were broken whenever a tug or scrape of his teeth occurred.

“Chan—”

A grunt vibrated against your nipple before he pulled off to rasp, “I’m trying to be patient here, baby, but you’re making it hard for me.”

You huffed and looked down to see an impatient expression aimed up at you.

“How do you think I feel? I was so close to doing you in that club.”

Chan’s eyes lidded at your reveal, tongue running over his swollen lips.

“Well, I could’ve fucked you in the middle of that dance floor.”

A shiver ran through your body. Just the thought of him possibly doing such a crude act had your pussy throbbing harder than before.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. Anyone tried to stop me, I would’ve decked the cunt.”

Fuck, why did that sound so hot?

He didn’t allow you to think on it any longer as he continued to trail kisses down your body, skimming over your stomach until he reached the top of your panties. His hands were quick to come up and lay on both of your inner thighs, pushing them further apart to improve his view of what laid between them.

With the way he was staring, you would have thought he was trying to see through the damn underwear itself.

Just as you were about to interject with something witty, Chan chose to make a move and latch his lips where your clit was, ripping a gasp out of you.

“Ah!”

The sudden shock melted into tingles of pleasure as he began with light sucks, sometimes pausing to lap his tongue over the damp fabric instead.

“Fuck, Chan…”

“Like that, baby?”

You huffed, “No, it’s not enough.”

An inquisitive hum sounded from below, Chan’s mouth pausing its actions (much to your dismay).

“Is that so?”

This guy.

“You know so. Just take them off.”

All you received was a giggle and a shake of the head. “Not yet.”

You groaned his name in annoyance, making him laugh harder, teeth on full display.

“You’re cute when you’re mad, you know that?”

To think you would get so flustered by him. It even made you giggle. “Thank you, but—”

You reached down and tapped his forehead.

“I’m starting to think you’re forcing yourself to do this.”

Chan gave you a look of mock offense.

“Of course not!”

“Uh huh. Sure.”

He rolled his eyes, hooking his finger under the elastic before letting it snap. “I’m serious, Y/N. This is me holding back right now.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah—”

Chan brushed his lips against your clothed center and husked, “I’d do anything to taste this pussy of yours.”

A shiver traveled through you at his words.

“Anything?”

He kissed you again. “Mhm.”

A certain thought bloomed in your mind from the conversation. You might be pushing it by saying it out loud, but fuck it.

“Would you even let me sit on your face?”

A groan vibrated against your core. “Fuck yes, I would.”

A smirk came over your swollen lips. Hearing the near desperate way he spoke had you going further, toying with the idea before deciding to take a chance. You were feeling very lucky tonight, as it is.

“Well then?”

Chan looked up at you in surprise. He stared until he realized you were serious, mirroring your grin.

“If you insist.”

He sat up and motioned you to move aside so he could sit back and prepare for what was to come. Waiting until Chan got comfortable, you kept your eyes locked on his as you slowly removed your sodden underwear. You almost giggled at how he broke the staring contest, fixated on the now exposed area. Tossing the garment off to who knows where, you poked one of his pecs to catch his attention, letting the laugh escape at the sheepish expression he donned.

He was quick to apologize before laying flat on his back, head just below the pillows. He then pointed to his face, a cheeky grin pasted on now.

“Take a seat.”

You were quick to scoot up and follow his invitation until a thought came through at the last second. Just as you were about to straddle Chan’s head, you turned your body before climbing on, facing towards his lower body instead.

“Oy, what are you doing?”

You hummed before giving his firm stomach a pat. “Enjoying the view.”

A laugh rang from behind as you felt his warm hands cup the top of your ass.

“Cheeky.”

He didn’t give you a moment to reply as he pushed your hips down, ripping a sound out of you as you sat on his tongue now. With slow precision, Chan began lapping at your slick skin, electricity running up your spine before blooming into spreading heat. It didn’t take long before you began moaning at the contact, back arching in enjoyment.

Guess kissing wasn’t the only thing he was good at.

Chan continued to lick at you, dipping into each crevice with varying pressure. Just when you were about to whine when he was too light, he’d increase the strength, throwing you for a loop. There were a few times where you’d nearly lose your balance, tightening your core muscles to prevent yourself from falling over. But after a while, you couldn’t take it anymore, abdominals screaming for mercy.

You had to brace yourself somehow. Scrambling for somewhere to hold onto, your eyes landed on the rippled expanse below you.

Ah. Perfect.

Just as you felt a harsh suck to your folds, your palms landed on Chan’s abs.

Damn.

Did this guy have rocks under his skin or what?

Just as your fingers began exploring every ridge on his waist, you felt something clamp around your throbbing clit before giving a pull.

“Fuck!”

If it wasn’t for his strong hands, you would have bucked down into his face. The temptation grew the more he continued.

Okay, you couldn’t just sit still (well, as still as you could be with his mouth working you over). You needed to suck his dick. Now.

Collecting yourself as much as possible, you put some more weight on your lower body so you could reach for Chan’s pants. Your fingers fumbled a bit, but you managed to get the button and his fly undone. Parting the fabric, you got a better view of the thick outline pressing against his black underwear, sliding your hand under the elastic band to get a feel of it. The second your fingertips went underneath, you felt the body under you give a jolt. Only when your hand wrapped around his cock did he relax.

Damn. Whatever you were holding, you had to see it for yourself.

You pulled Chan’s length out of his underwear, jaw dropping at its appearance.

Nice and thick, perfect for stretching your needy walls out when the time came. But for now…

You lowered your torso to rest on Chan’s, mouth immediately getting to work once his dick was in proximity. The second your tongue touched the velvety skin, vibrations hummed against your pussy. They only increased in frequency the more you incorporated the muscle. Eventually, you chose to take him fully in your mouth, pulling back in enough time to avoid choking as his hips jerked.

Wrapping your fist around the base, your head began bobbing in your own rhythm, hearing and feeling the muffled grunts and groans from behind. You missed Chan’s lips on your cunt when he pulled away at one point, but it was remedied by the praise he gave.

“That’s it, baby…oh shit—”

You smiled around his dick, deciding to throw in a few hums of your own, savoring the way he dug his fingers into the curve of your ass.

“So glad you came up with this—“

A jiggle of one of your cheeks pulled a muffled moan out of you.

“I get to have a great view and feel that mouth.”

So he was an ass man, huh?

Your observation was solidified when you gave it a little shake that rewarded you with a curse. In no time, Chan returned to giving your most intimate area attention again, sending waves of bliss coursing up your spine again.

Between you and him, the room filled up with lewd sounds and noises. Slowly a knot began to form in your guy, encouraging you to up your movements. You provided more suction, receiving a buck of the hips that caught you off-guard. A light gag emitted as his tip hit the top of your throat.

Chan was quick to pull off, speaking in a huskier voice than before, “Shit, sorry. You alright?”

You let him out of your mouth, his wet cock bouncing back down onto his lap.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

You didn’t even give him a chance to continue, leaning down to lick up the bead of precum on his flushed head. The moan he gave was absolutely worth it.

“What the fuck— Your mouth is too good.”

You laughed, pressing a kiss below his belly button.

“So I’ve heard.”

Another swear echoed from behind before you felt his hands pushing at your hips. Picking up what he was asking for, you swiftly climbed off, only to feel those same hands tugging at you again. Before you knew it, you ended up on your back with Chan perched over you, looking more fiery thanks to the dual act.

The blown-out pupils in his dark brown irises, combined with his sweat-covered brow, glistening mouth and chin made him look like a feral man, ready to devour every inch of you.

Good. So you were on equal grounds; you were ready to satiate his appetite too.

“You’re killin’ me, Y/N.”

A brow lifted. “The feeling’s mutual.”

Chan grunted before pressing his forehead onto yours, eyes zeroed in on your own.

“Is it?”

“Yeah, it is—”

Your pitch grew when you felt fingers skimming over your damp center, biting your lip when you felt one of them circle your clit.

“Hm, sure feels like it. Just when I thought you couldn’t get any wetter…”

A good portion of that was contributed to Chan working you up with his mouth. Hell, you could feel yourself pushing out a drop right now because of his touch.

“You must be feeling good about it—!”

Yet again, he caught you off-guard by prodding between your lower lips, teasing your twitching hole with his index finger.

“Damn right I am.”

He wouldn’t let you come up with another retort, applying pressure until the tip began sinking in, your breath hitching. The sudden intrusion gave way to a pleasant stretch as he pushed even further, up until you felt his knuckle brushing outside.

“Chan—”

Your lover merely hummed, starting to pump slowly as he continued to stare down at you.

“You feel like you’re ready for me, baby.”

Your hips bucked when he sped up for a moment before slowing down.

“I am.”

Chan’s teeth flashed, the impishness contrasting the actions of his hand.

“Nah, nevermind. You’re not ready.”

Frustration began building inside as he continued teasing you, a huff escaping your swollen lips.

“You’re such an ass.”

One of your favorite giggles came out while he pressed his index finger against your entrance.

“Am I?”

Despite the mild burn from the stretch as he added the digit, your hand came up to swat one of his solid pecs.

“Yes! Working me up like this and then laughing—”

This man just loved to torture you, didn’t he? For he decided to go searching and quickly found that rough spot inside that made your back arch.

“Fuck!”

“I don’t know, sweetheart, you don’t sound very mad right now.”

You were about to swear at him again, but he gave a few solid presses that made a lewd sound emit, making your face burn and your hips jerk.

“Godammit Chan—!”

Chan continued to play dumb, peering down at you with a look of mock concern.

“What’s wrong? My fingers not enough for you, babygirl?”

“N-No— I need more!”

Hums and tilts his head, still thrusting his fingers.

“You sure?”

That’s it.

“Chan, you son of a bitch, if you don’t fuck me right now—”

One of his trademark giggles escaped at your attitude.

“Alright, alright, I hear ya.”

Pulling his fingers out with a squelch, you sighed in relief when he went to grab a condom from his nightstand.

“Thank you, baby.”

Chan gave a chuckle as he prepared himself, quick to climb back on once he was fully sheathed. Just as you figured he would get straight to business, he surprised you by stealing a kiss from you. One kiss long enough to distract you until you felt him poking your folds. With that, you couldn’t wait any longer.

Pulling your lips away a bit, you husked against his own, “Come on.”

For once, your lover didn’t have a quip, choosing to give you what you so desired. Either that or he was hiding his own needs well, for Chan began guiding himself inside, pulling an audible moan out of you. Okay, maybe having his fingers beforehand was a good thing; the stretch he was giving you was something else.

“Shit, Chan—“

He seemed to be affected by the way your walls practically swallowed his dick, a knit between sweat-covered brows and his teeth bared as he ground out, “This pussy is so fuckin’ tight— Worth the wait.”

A grunt came out as you involuntarily clamped down at the words, forcing his hips to pause on his trek. But as soon as you loosened, Chan continued to push forward until he bottomed out, leaving you full and yearning for more.

Thankfully, you two seemed to be on the same wavelength now, for he didn’t hesitate on starting up a rhythm, slow but steady.

You were quickly affected by the friction, wrapping your legs around his hard and built waist to keep him as close to you as possible. Soft pants escalated into thorough moans, the sparks deep in your gut beginning to light a fire that spread to every end of your body.

“Mm, that’s it…”

Chan chuckled at your encouragement, running a tongue over his reddened lips as he gazed down at you.

“Just what you wanted, eh?”

Yes. This was just what you wanted.

To have him moving inside of you, rolling those hips just like he was doing on the dancefloor. Every inch of his cock stroked all of your sweet spots and his pelvis grinded against your pulsating clit, leaving you an absolute mess underneath his muscled body. It didn’t help when he began whispering all sorts of praise and filth into your ear.

Eventually, you found your body craving more and dug your nails into the tight muscles on his back.

“Chan—”

“Mm?”

It took a little longer than expected to respond, but you managed.

“Fuck me harder, please—”

Did you mean to sound that whiny? Not at all.

But it seemed to be worth it as Chan’s demeanor changed a bit, some of the humor leaving his expression. From the way you felt him twitch inside, your begging hit a nerve.

A nerve that had him nodding before starting to practically pound into you. You didn’t know what to classify the sound that left your mouth as, but it was loud and it was sharp.

This man’s hips were too powerful. Every thrust inched you further up the bed, to the point where you had to plant your hands on the headboard for support. The last thing you wanted was a concussion.

Well, this was what you asked for and he was gladly giving it to you.

Chan himself was pleased with the change of pace, judging by the more frequent moans and groans leaving him.

“Goddamn, Y/N—”

Fuck, he sounded so good like this. Like a man unleashing secret desires after hiding them for so long. Maybe you should’ve encouraged him to go all out sooner.

His sense of rhythm was also strong in the bedroom, it seems. The way your skin clapped against his added to the pleasant melody that was both of your cries and words jumbling together in the musky room.

Among all of the carnal noises the both of you were releasing, you could have sworn you heard three thumps in succession. Almost like someone was banging on the wall.

Eh, probably your imagination.

Out of nowhere, Chan stilled his hips before beginning to slip out of you. An indignant cry left your swollen lips at the withdrawal, propping yourself up on your elbows to scowl up at your lover.

“What the fuck?!”

You weren’t surprised to see his mouth curl at your response. This guy and being amused by your anger was a combo that you were about to tire of.

Chan reached a hand out to give your hip a pat before scooting back a bit, husking out, “Turn that ass over, babygirl—”

Oh. That’s why.

His request made your brief irritation disappear in a second and you were swift in complying, forcing your body to react and reposition itself on hands and knees. You felt a palm rub over one of your ass cheeks before giving it a light grope, unable to hold back from doing a little wiggle in response. A groan sounded from behind, followed by the blunt head of Chan’s cock pressing against your entrance before sliding back in.

This position had you clutching the sheets, thanks to how his length stroked areas that he couldn’t reach before. Surely if he rolled his hips again, he’d render your limbs useless due to pleasure.

You didn’t have to wonder much longer as Chan continued his pace with little hesitation. The movement ripped a yelp out of you as you now found yourself supporting your weight on your torso, arms losing stability.

“Ch-Chan!”

You heard a laugh lingering with cockiness from behind before he said something else that tickled you.

“Okay, those pants weren’t doing your ass enough justice.”

The compliment made your lips twitch, the boost to your confidence making you give a solid push back.

“Oh yeah?”

Chan was quick to give a solid thrust, nearly knocking you off your knees.

“Fuck yeah.”

You were ready to give another reply until he continued with the solid thrusts; clearly, there was no more room for conversation. The two of you kept at it, the claps of your skin mixing with every little filth and praise spilling out of you and Chan’s mouths. You enjoyed each moment of it until you started feeling a coil building deep in your stomach, forcing you to get louder in your cries.

It must have tipped Chan off as you felt him lean over your drenched back to whisper in your ear, “You gonna come for me, babygirl?”

“Yes, yes!”

A curse left him before you felt him pull out yet again, but he didn’t give you a chance to cuss him out as he flipped you onto your back and guided his cock back in with little patience. He proceeded with pounding the shit out of you again, the flush in his cheeks doing little to tone down the wolfishness of his smirk.

“Good, wanna feel this sweet cunt squeezing me—“

Ugh. The absolute nerve of this man to give you that blinding grin while he was all up in your guts. And then to speak like that?

You weren’t given much more time to be irate before that pang in your gut increased, thanks to Chan returning to rolling his hips like before. Your poor clit received every ounce of stimulation, pushing you closer and closer to that edge. Needing to hold onto something for stability, you were about to grab for his shoulders before remembering Felix’s little hint from earlier.

Shooting your lover a smirk, you savored the curious look on his face before it was wiped off, thanks to the nails that dug into the back of his neck. You could feel whatever parts of him pressed against you stiffen for a moment, paired with the hitching of his breath.

“So it is true.”

Chan didn’t seem to be as amused as you were, brows furrowing at your teasing. He wouldn’t let you scratch his neck again, reaching behind for your wrists before pinning them down to the bed. The move made you gasp, being left at his mercy now.

“It is. Now be good and let me keep fucking you.”

You didn’t fight against his command one bit. As a reward, the tension in your belly expanded until you couldn’t take it anymore. After a particularly thorough hip roll, the rubber band snapped, forcing a sharp cry to escape your agape mouth filling the room.

Your legs shook next to his still-moving hips, pussy squeezing him on and off with no signs of stopping. After a moment, Chan paused, allowing you to ride out the harsh waves with ease. You could barely notice him watching you fall apart, only focusing when he said something that caught your attention.

“Shit, ‘m gonna come, baby—“

Wanting to make that a reality, you tugged one of your wrists free with some force before landing a hand on the back of his sweat-soaked neck again. He didn’t have a chance to scold you, mouth letting out an unmistakably shaky groan at the sensation of your nails running over the skin. Just a few more passes granted you with the lovely sound and sight of Chan reaching his limit as well.

You felt his cock pulsating between your still contracting walls as he spilled into the condom, hips pressed firmly against yours. Watching your lover’s face knit in sheer gratification was worth all the teasing you endured over the last couple of hours.

Once he was through his orgasm, Chan relaxed his lower half on top of yours, taking care to keep the upper half hovering above. You showed your appreciation with a pat of his back. As nice as his ripped body felt against you, the crushing weight wouldn’t have been ideal at the moment.

“Damn…”

His weak exhale brought a feeble giggle out of you.

“You alright, baby?”

Chan huffed, bringing a hand up to brush a rolling bead of sweat off your brow.

“Should be asking you that, sweetheart.”

You shrugged, hoping your knees would quit shaking soon.

“Still kicking and breathing.”

“Hmm.”

Now that your heart-rate was beginning to return to normal, you were growing aware of just how intense the session had gotten. Every inch of your skin was covered in sweat and the muscles in the lower part of your body were about to start screaming for mercy. And between your legs where Chan was still deeply nestled…

“Chan.”

“Mm?”

You tipped your head back, peering at a familiar package sitting on one of the headboard shelves.

“Mind passing one of those wipes?”

When your eyes opened, two questions went through your mind.

Where were you and what time was it?

In the dimly-lit room, you could tell that it wasn’t the decor you were familiar with. You also didn’t see your alarm clock on your nightstand to inform you of the current time. But after a minute, the fog in your brain began to clear and everything started to come back to you.

The thick arm laying on your waist also helped.

Turning your head, your mouth curled at the sleeping figure next to you. Chan was still dead to the world, plush mouth parted as he snored softly. You had to hold back a giggle at the trail of drool running out. At least it didn’t happen while he was on top.

Fighting the urge to grab a wipe and clean him up, you focused on sneaking out from his hold without waking him up. You managed to lay his arm back down carefully, Chan not even budging a mite. You started looking for your clothes, specifically your pants first. The garment laid at the foot of the bed still and you picked them up, reaching in the back pocket for your phone.

You clicked on the home screen .

8:53 AM.

Whoops. You definitely didn’t mean to stay that long.

Time to go.

You glanced back at Chan. You didn’t want to go without saying goodbye, after the night he gave you, but you weren’t sure if he’d appreciate the interruption to his sleep. Biting your lip, you mulled over it as you quietly redressed.

Once you got your top situated, you made your way to the door, hand resting on the knob as you peeked at him once again.

Should you really leave like this? He did make an impression on you, outside of the bedroom. You weren’t necessarily looking for a relationship with the guy, but you didn’t want this to be the last time you’d see him. Relying on the odds that you’d see him at the club again was risky, too.

Maybe you could find something to write on out there…

Giving Chan’s sleeping form a grateful smile, you carefully opened the door before stepping out into the hallway. Just as you shut it, you heard one opening further down. You looked up to see his roommate appearing, wrapped tight in a cozy blanket. It took him a few seconds to realize you were there, but he was quick to give you a sleepy wave.

“Morning.”

The yawn that followed his greeting made you chuckle, returning his wave.

“Good morning. Slept well?”

Felix shrugged, dark eyes bleary. “Well enough.” Said eyes looked you over before a brow raised. “Sneaking out?”

“Yeah, I think I overstayed my welcome.”

The blond hummed, slipping a hand out of his throw to fix his bedhead. “Understandable. Well, feel free to leave whenever you want, I’m going to go get a brownie to start my day off.”

Before you could make your exit, Felix regarded you for a second before tilting his head.

“Would you like one?”

You blinked, both in surprise and at the fact that this guy was eating a dessert for breakfast. Then again, free food.

“Oh? Um…sure?”

Felix chuckled, a grin forming.

“Don’t be shy, I can always make more. Come on.”

He gestured you to follow him, heading down the hall and towards the kitchen. Sure enough, there was a container of brownies on one of the counters. Your eyes bugged when Felix opened it, showing that it was filled to the brim. No wonder he said to not hold back.

You took two while he picked up three, grabbing some paper towels nearby to lay them on before standing by the island. Once you bit into the pastry, you realized that you were hungrier than you thought. That, and these brownies were fucking delicious.

You were quick to let Felix know, receiving an appreciative smile. Even though you had planned to head on home, you found yourself making small talk with him.

But then he threw out a statement that caught you off guard.

“You guys were pretty loud.”

A crumb almost lodged itself in your throat, cheeks flooding with heat.

“Ah…surprised you didn’t say anything.”

Felix lifted his slender shoulders, not really looking that bothered. “Well, I did bang on the wall a bit, but it didn’t do shit. Just put my headphones on and ended up falling asleep to a movie.”

Damn, were you and Chan that disruptive? Looks like that banging you heard wasn’t in your head, at all.

“Sorry, Felix.”

“Eh, no worries. Better that than him coming home alone and complaining to me how he couldn’t pick a girl up. Although, I do have to congratulate you—”

Felix grinned, eyes scrunching in mischief.

“Sounds like you found that spot on his neck.”

Good thing you swallowed your bite as you burst into laughter at his compliment.

“I should be thanking you for the hint! It definitely made him weak.”

“It always does! Did he drool on you?”

“Nope.”

The blond gave a thumbs up while biting into another brownie. As soon as he finished his bite, he regarded you with caution before leaning in. He motioned you to do the same, your curiosity increasing as you followed his gesture.

“You know—”

The way he whispered made it sound like he was about to tell you something scandalous.

“If he was shit in bed, you can tell me. I won’t say a word. It’s 2023 and I feel like girls need to stop faking it and just be blunt with these lazy cunts.”

You didn’t think you could laugh louder than before, but Felix proved you wrong. After it died down into giggles, you straightened up, wiping a tear from your eye.

“Thank you for the reassurance, but trust me, it was all real.”

Felix sat up and pouted. “Damn, was hoping I’d have something to hold against him.” He sighed, ”If you say so.”

“Sorry buddy, you’re not gonna get it from me today.”

He nodded, all seeming well as his pretty lips curled in humor. The break in conversation reminded you to check the time, exclaiming in surprise.

“Damn, I really should go.” You finished up your ‘breakfast’, brushing your hands clean. “Thanks again for the brownies, Felix.”

“No problem, Y/N. You want any for the road?”

Your eyes narrowed playfully.

“I feel like you’re trying to thicken me up.”

Felix smirked. “Well, someone has to play host while Chris is asleep. You ate those two pretty fast, so…”

There was no way he’d let you leave without one, was there? A sigh left you.

“Fine, if you’re offering.”

The pleased blond was quick to wrap up a few for you, leaving you waiting for a minute. Suddenly, a thought hit you. You didn’t have a way to keep in contact with Chan.

There was no way you could part ways with that wonderful man and be able to sleep peacefully.

“Hey Felix.”

“Hm?”

You grabbed a napkin and a nearby pen, jotting down the numbers from memory. Once Felix walked back over, you handed him the note.

“Mind giving this to Chan for me?”

He took it and looked it over, brows raising in intrigue before he nodded at you.

“Sure.”

You smiled and expressed your gratitude, taking the brownies before Felix led you out to the front door. With a wave and a ‘have a good day’, you headed down the hallway, a sway in your somewhat sore hips.

Who knew that last night would go the way it did? You just might have met your match. Someone who could keep up with your moves and handle you in the bedroom.

If Chan wanted to see more of what you could do, he better take your gift and use it wisely.

Chan couldn’t tell what time it was when he awoke, thanks to those new blinds he bought. All he knew was that there was someone else in his room. And judging by the familiar clacking of a keyboard, he knew exactly who it was.

Prying his bleary eyes open, he stretched, groaning quietly at the way his muscles protested at the action. He sat up in bed, automatically wiping off the semi-dried drool on his chin. The motion must have alerted the other person as they turned their head to look at him.

“Morning, bro.”

Chan grumbled at the chipper greeting as he rubbed his eyes.

“Felix, the fuck are you doing in my room?”

“Picking up where I was so rudely interrupted last night.”

Not having the energy to fire back a quip, the older roommate rolled his eyes. But then he realized something. There should have been a third occupant in the bedroom…

He looked next to where he was laying, frowning when he saw nothing but rumpled sheets, rather than an equally nude body.

“Where is she?”

“Went home, mate.”

Felix’s flippant response made Chan swear under his breath. Fuck, he meant to get your number or something before you left. He figured that the two of you were on the same wavelength after last night’s events and honestly, he didn’t want this to be a one and done. Did you get tired of waiting for him to wake up or…

He fixed a glare at the back of Felix’s head. “Did you scare her away?”

All he heard was the sip of a drink before his roommate answered.

“Nope.”

The flippant response made Chan hop out of bed, storming over to spin the chair around hard, gripping the blond’s shoulders with force.

“Felix, you little cunt, if I find out that you kicked her out just so you could play fucking Fortnite, I’m beating your ass.”

He was clearly unbothered, removing Chan’s hands from his person with laziness.

“Chill, man. I ran into her in the hall just as she was leaving. I had to play host since you were clearly doing a bad job at it.”

Chan raised a brow, his irritation cooling a bit. “Really?”

“Yup, offered her some of my brownies too. Sure did love them, even took a few to go.”

Huh. Well, at least Felix didn’t shoo you away, but it still didn’t assuage his worries. He’d just have to hope that he would see you at the club again. This time, he wouldn’t let you get away without an exchange of contact information.

Chan was ready to back off until he noticed the younger’s mouth twisting into a feline grin.

“At least one of us gave her something to remember this place by.”

Never mind. The anger came back in full force.

“You fucking—!”

He made a grab for Felix, but he slipped out from underneath him and ran out into the hallway. Not caring that he was still in his birthday suit, he chased him until he was cornered. The older man was ready to maim, slowly approaching until the other held his hands up in surrender.

“Wait wait wait, Chris! Before you murder me, I’ve got something for you.”

Chan was about ready to lunge when Felix spoke up. Shooting a look that emitted ‘you’ve got one chance’, he paused as he watched the other reach into the pocket of his pajama pants. He slipped something white and thin out before holding it towards him. Taking it with a scowl, the dark-haired man read over the writing on what he realized was a napkin. Each letter and number made his face mold into one of pure shock.

For it was your name and number written down, complete with a cute heart at the end.

“This is…”

Felix held his hands out to the side, looking a lot more smug now. “You’re welcome, mate. Pretty sure my baking changed her mind, but who knows? You might’ve put in some work last night, too.”

Chan shook his head, smiling a little bit now.

“Dickhead. Thanks for this.”

His roommate nodded before folding his arms and raising his brows. “Now can I please get back to my game?”

The brunette waved his hand as he began turning around, still gazing at your neat handwriting.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Go on, I’ve gotta go shower anyways.”

“Yeah, go do that, bro—”

Felix began walking past his enamored friend. “You smell like sweat and smegma.”

Chan didn’t miss the opportunity to smack him on the back of the head, smirking at the cry of pain he let out. He headed off to the bathroom, checking to make sure the counter was dry before setting the napkin down.

He still couldn’t believe it; you actually left your number!

Just when he thought he’d have to rely on a chance encounter, Felix came through with a beacon of hope. Maybe he’d treat the little shit to dinner tonight; he had been airing his grievances on how it’s been ages since they’ve had Thai food. But first, Chan had something very important to do after his shower.

He had to update his contacts and try his best not to text you too soon.

#bang chan #bang chan fic #bang chan fanfic #bang chan smut #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #stray kids #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfic #stray kids smut #skz #skz fic #skz fanfic #skz smut #skz imagines #bang chan imagines #spin you like a hit record

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makos-hotbox · 1 year

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König and ghost having a crush on a y/n whos an utter dumbass and is high 24/7.

And is hella clumsy & spaces out a lot? Sorry I just think it'd be funny if a y/n was high. Lol

LARGE FONT VER.

… 𝐏𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐏𝐔𝐅𝐅

`⌁ ◜ 𝐢’𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐟𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠! ◞

𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓

Ghost honestly would have never thought he would end up with a stoner. But here he was, helping you pack bowls and roll j’s :]

He’s only ever smoked weed or anything once or twice but that was it, he hated the feeling of hacking up a lung.

If he ever decides to partake in getting high with you though, he will interest himself in some edibles, that’s the only way he will do it.

He also secretly likes to “trip sit” you while you’re doing your thing. Making sure you don’t do anything stupid and that you take care of yourself. Bringing you water and snacks for when you get hungry. He may grumble like he’s doing it at gunpoint but he cares. Especially if you’re enjoying yourself on another planet.

Will make sure to knock you out of your zoning out moments every little bit. Worrying that you won’t hear what he’s about to say or that you’ve blanked completely.

Once you start to wind down, he’ll hold you with him and watch some movies. Allowing for you to fall asleep into a new state of mind once again.

Simon was in the kitchen, hunting for some snacks to give you. At least, the ones that you had a specific craving for and would eat. Something sweet this time, but not crunchy. Specific, but that’s what he needed, he didn’t want to bring you something you won’t be satisfied eating.

Meanwhile in the living room, you were slumped on the couch, a final puff of smoke leaving your mouth. Staring at the colorful painting on the wall as you zoned out, originally focused on not coughing but now you were completely relaxed.

Your mind was calm as you listened to the music coming from your phone in your lap. A few minutes later, Simon came back with two brownies in one hand, and a cup of juice in the other. Setting them down on the coffee table in front of you, “I hope this works. Was originally gonna bring you ice cream, and we don’t have any. So, brownie it… y/n?”

He noticed that you were spacing out and it seemed like you weren’t listening at all. Sitting next to you on the couch, he nudged your arm gently. Knocking you out of your trance and you now paid full attention. “Sorry?”

Simon chuckled at your behavior, it wasn’t much but it was cute in his eyes. “Nothing, here, eat up pothead.” He unwrapped one of the brownies and shoved it towards you.

𝐊Ö𝐍𝐈𝐆

Hc that könig smokes to help with his anxiety. Not daily or anything of course especially if he’s at work. But when he’s home or had a particularly rough day, he’ll load a bowl right next to you.

Both of you will usually chill together, König likes to cuddle when he’s stoned asf so expect lots of those. High naps are the best with him and they are a must.

If he’s not smoking with you because he can’t, he will still hang out and take care of you. Doing almost everything for you so that you don’t have to get up and do it yourself. He thinks you should be able to completely relax without anything to bother you.

If you’re zoning out, he lets it happen. Only for a small amount of time though so you can at least keep a toe on planet earth. If you need him to keep you busy, König will gladly start chattering away about something. His anxiety immediately goes away when he’s with you anyways.

You passed the bong over to könig, bracing yourself to cough up your soul as the burn in your throat got worse. König set the bong down on the table to comfort you, he wasn’t smoking tonight but he sure as hell wasn’t going to leg you suffer.

When you finally coughed up a large cloud of smoke, more coughs followed. König pat your back, hoping it’ll help in some way. He grabbed the water bottle sitting in front of you as well, handing it to you to take a drink. He calmly aided you through the coughing fit with success as you began to calm down.

Wiping the tears of pain off of your eyes, you slumped back against König’s chest. Relaxation is now taking over your mind. “All done?” You heard him mumble from above you. Nodding your head slowly as you began to space out, König packed up the weed and bong, cleaning up the table.

He tried to shuffle you off of him so he could go get some more water and a snack for you, but he earned a grumble from you. “No not yet… you’re really warm. And really comfy…”

𝐊Ö𝐍𝐈𝐆 + 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓

now if it were both ghost and könig in a relationship with you, they would surprisingly remain the same. With only a few changes.

Ghost would probably be sober most of the time, babysitting you and könig. Whenever you two get high together, it always seems like Ghost has to remain on his toes.

If the house is empty of snacks, you and könig team up to convince Ghost to take y’all to the store. Even the gas station who cares, you two were hungry.

If Ghost needs you two to sit still while he does something important, he just turns on a movie and throws you on top of könig. Usually you two will immediately get attached and not want to let go of each other.

Sometimes soap ends up coming over to visit, and Ghost’s double trouble ends up into a triple tornado. Loudest. House. Ever.

“I don't know… he might say no because it’s getting late.” Your hushed whispers reach König’s ears as you two watch the animated movie in front of you. König was laying on his back across the couch and you were laying on top of him, head resting on his chest.

“Yeah but we’re hungryyyy… Simon couldn’t turn that down. It wouldn’t hurt to ask.” He whined, stomach grumbling. Munchies had hit him like a train and there were no snacks. Simon was in the shower, and he was about to be interrupted.

Finally deciding that you’ve both had enough, you and König raced up the stairs and bursted into the bathroom. A surprised yell coming from Simon who had just gotten out of the shower and only had a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Can you take us to the store please?” You two both pleaded at the same time, hands clamped together as you begged. Simon glaring at the two of you with a confused expression. He looked at his phone and checked the time.

“It’s 10:30… at night.” He signed realizing that wasn’t going to change your minds. “If I’m in the car before you, you’re not going. Let’s go.”

REQUESTS :: OPEN

» 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 … 𝐜𝐲𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐥

#mw2 x reader #modern warfare x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #könig x reader #könig #cod könig #könig mw2 #könig x reader x ghost #ghost x reader x könig #ghost x konig #modern warfare #mw2

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angelatsumu · 2 months

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allistic simon x autistic reader was just so heartwarming and relatable to read as i’m someone with the tism that often feels like a burden on others. it was so lovely, feeling like simon didn’t want to change the reader as a person or expect anything unreasonable of them, but rather accommodate them where he can. i also liked that he didn’t have to compromise himself and was able to do an activity he likes, but also care for reader! all around just really enjoyed the piece.

if i may, i’d love to request something where one of the reader’s safe foods/essential items is out of stock or being discontinued and how simon would help them navigate that situation. one of my fave essentials just got discontinued and i’m devastated lol ♥︎

hi there! i'm very happy that you enjoyed my first autistic reader piece. i'm sorry that your safe food is out of stock ): i get fairly frustrated when i can't have access to things that comfort me. i apologize in advanced for the subpar writing that will ensue this message.

allistic simon x autistic!reader: crisis averted

in which your lovely husband attempts to help you navigate the sudden unavailability of your safe food.

simon came back from his meeting on base a bit winded and more confused than when he'd originally left the home. the meeting was a cooperative planning session involving KorTac, and your husband failed to keep up with the newly-introduced objectives and profiles. his head hurt, frankly. the entire meeting he'd only been wondering what you'd been up to and if you missed him. when he finally entered your shared home, he was relieved to have the workday slide right off his broad, strong shoulders.

simon hummed as he heard the tapping of your PC keyboard, knowing you'd likely well into a deep dive of one of your special interests. he took off his boots by the door and calmly took steps toward the study, whistling as he walked. his eyes fell upon you in the throws of your own world of wonder, irises blown as you took in the information before you. Simon cleared his throat to grab your attention, and you peeled yourself away briefly to greet him. ,"hey Si," you hummed back distractedly, and your husband chuckled in response. "hi lovie," he grinned at you, moving to stand beside you and take in the media you were consuming. he stands there for a moment, enjoying your company, before he decides to trek to the kitchen for a snack.

simon peers around the area for signs of your appetite, signs that you had been feeding yourself and staying hydrated. he was met with an empty sink and dishwasher, and the items in the fridge looked untouched. the water filter was exactly as full as when he left this morning. he sighed, shaking his head before a lightbulb went off. maybe we're out of [food item]. that could do it, he thinks to himself, treking to the pantry to confirm the item was missing. he padded back into the study to greet you again, politely asking for your attention.

when you spin around to see a frowning Simon you instinctively feel puzzled, and of course Simon can tell by the way you stare at him blankly. "lovie, you didn't eat today?" he's soft when he speaks to you, ensuring that you don't feel scolded or punished. Your lover has been so understanding of your mannerisms, fully aware that your appetite was fickle and sometimes undetectable. you shook your head in response, words lost on you as you tried to recall your last meal. "there's no food item so I can't really eat right now," you responded cooly, and Simon nods his head in response. usually he'd kept up with the supply of your items, and he was honestly quite shocked that this wasn't upsetting you as much as he'd always imagined it would. he didn't want to press the issue, but he was mildly concerned that you may be pressing it down. "why didn't you say anything, are you not upset?" the question slides over your head, and you direct your attention back to the media in front of you. " 've been busy today," you respond as your eyes focus again on the screen. Simon sighs again, turning on his heels and heading to the bedroom for a change of clothes. he knew he'd be heading to the store now, or helping you through a meltdown later.

Simon had read up quite a bit on the fickle nature of meltdowns, and he was well versed in how unpredictable they may be. he'd listened to numerous autistic media creators mention their experience in reference to valves. when the 'special interest' tank was where you needed it, and your 'manual labor' valve was at a minimum, then that allowed for things like social interaction or emotional regulation. when you had no time to yourself and no time for the things that keep you happy, your mask began to slip and 'smaller' things that you normally coped with began to feel a lot heavier and less manageable. he knew that your special interest tank currently filled your cup to the brim, allowing you to ignore the constant discomfort of hunger and dehydration. he also knew that should this hunger persist it may heighten other, seemingly less significant, senses and experiences and he'd find himself well into meltdown territory. the longer he waited for you to notice your hunger, the more likely dysregulation would occur.

at the store, Simon's breath is stolen from him. the damned item was out of stock. he haggled a store employee, begging them to check their inventory again, but they'd been completely out of it. Simon found himself driving all over the city in search of this item, but he found nothing. at the fifth store he felt defeated, and he decided to search for the item online. to his dismay, it'd been discontinued. there was a pit in your husband's stomach at the information. to Simon's surprise, it seemed that his lovely spouse's support of this item hadn't been enough to singlehandedly keep the item in service. he scoffed as he thumbed through the list of items he knew you liked, all of which seeming a reach to coax you into eating.

Simon drives the 45 minutes back to the home, and you're pacing in the living room with your headphones on. Simon doesn't even have to ask, he knows you've overdone yourself with the screens and now your head hurts and your ears hurt; your ears always hurt when you're overstimulated. No matter how much you loved [special interest], you still found yourself overwhelmed if you indulged for too long.

you turn the music down at the sight of your husband in the doorway, waiting for him to speak. "Lovie, it seems that item has been discontinued." The words take a moment to be processed, but you fail to hide the disgust and frustration you feel about the information. you feel your chest getting tight, and the music doesn't feel loud enough. "i know this is difficult but-" 'How could we not notice it was discontinued? Why didn't i pay attention! It can't be! I don't want that. I don't want it." you began to cry, frustration coursing through you as your ears began to sting. You'd tried so hard to do better, to feel better for Simon, but now you felt helpless. Your brain began to eat away at you, blaming you for not keeping up with your own foods and snacks. Your pacing continues as you find yourself striking your chest repeatedly, trying to dull the pain of the situation. your mind felt like it was melting, and the tears continued.

Simon steps to you slowly, striking his own chest lightly and he nears your smaller frame. he slowly reaches his arms out beside him, allowing you to walk into his chest. his arms remain at his sides, and he allows the painful stimming to be transferred to his chest. your strikes feel nothing close to anything he'd truly suffered, and he hoped this would help you make it through this world-shattering time. he stands there for as long as you need him to, fully prepared for this to last several hours. the tears stain his shirt as you sniffle and sob, strikes getting lighter and lighter. you cry so much it leaves you dizzy, and your arms slowly reach out to simon's to wrap them around your frame. you give him two taps to let him know that you'd like to be squeezed, and he does so without complaint.

"You're safe, lovie. I'm sure this is very frustrating, so how about we order that Chinese food place you like. I know it's not safe food but it will feed you. I even have the exact order from last time, hm?" you offer him another two taps as confirmation, and he smiles.

Once you begin to come down from your meltdown, Simon is sure to help you change into your favorite pajamas and wraps you in your compression blanket. you two spend the evening in your bed watching your comfort show and eating takeout.

an: i hope this as comforting for you as it was for me while writing. simon would be such a loving and comforting partner, and I deeply believe he'd study you and learn you so well that he can help. if anyone you love is having a meltdown, try to remove any extra emotional or cognitive labor for them.

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sysig · 2 years

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Okay but that dating sim gif is SO GOOD. Like, WHAT??? It looks like something out of a real life professional game, and now I want to play it, lol. It's very very cool and well done, I loved all the details! The expressiveness and the transitions, the sudden change in Edgar's eyes and the lighting around him!! He even blinks, like??? Truly, animation goals. You're such an inspiration to me! It blows me away that you did that in such a short timeframe!

Haha, thank you very much! ♥ I also really want to play a Vargas dating sim, every time I chip at the concept I get a new smattering of ideas hehe ♪

You got me anon, that’s what I’m able to do in the sweet spot between “Just enough time to get the framework of what I have in my head” and “Not enough time to overthink the details” - it’s a system that works pretty well for me :D

The time crunch gives me that little burst of energy to get what I’m able to see in my mind onto page and canvas, while also still missing a few of the things I’d want to come back and get right next time - I’m sure you noticed the barren bookshelves and maybe the lack of door frame lol, but those are important signifiers for growth! Maybe next time, I’m able to draw a bit faster, or remember more details, and I’ll have noticeably improved ✨ That’s my goal anyway haha

If I’d had just a liiiiiittle more time, I definitely would’ve made an homage to Zarla’s Ghosts’ blink animation. Two frame blinks are all well and good, but that bounce brings me so much joy ♫

#Requestober #Vargas #anonymous #It does make me happy to hear you enjoyed it so much ♪ I'm quite proud of it too! Don't let me little comments convince you otherwise!#I just know where I'd like to next improve >:3c Which is also an important step!#I feel like I'm preaching here but fjslkajfd art improvement is important ot me lol - it's great to fail upward #Even though I was under time pressure so I wasn't Fully able to get what was in my head out I got Most of it out #And because I was able to get Most of it I can now come back and improve on the bones any time :D #If I was able to spend more time on it ♪ I really do think I could make something Really cool >:3c #Actually you wanna know a fun fact about the blinks? Lol #They were a spur of the moment decision - originally his closed eyes were only meant to be for that final expression #But then I was like ''Hmmm. I bet I could animate on twos for a couple simple blinks. I bet it would add a lot'' and I think it did :D #Literally just copied his closed eyes onto a separate layer it looks super janky in my files ✨#There's like a marquee in the back of my head going ''If it was in an actual game program I could make a loop that would seamlessly tran-''#Lol I really love the back end of game design I think it's super interesting even if I'm still very green to it ♥#Anyway anyway anyway #Thank you again anon <3 It is very appreciated ^^ And thanks for giving me an excuse to ramble about it lol ♪

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roxtron · 2 months

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Day 5: Rabbit, Reclaim

AGJGDFJF FINALLY IT'S DAY 5 SO I CAN POST THIS

For some reason everytime i draw him he looks so young because i'm accidentally overcorrecting since i'm used to drawing older characters. So unfortunately he looks way younger than i meant him to lol, whoops.

But wait there's more- AHAHAHA

While I did initially plan this for GGY week I eventually got the idea to use this as an excuse to draw other GGY designs, soo..

(Not sure why tumblr formatted it that way with 1 of them big but it doesn't matter lol)

I've been wanting to do this for a while, I put the tags of each person next to their design but ofc I'm still gonna tag them in the post itself so you can see their art for yourself if you haven't already. But I enjoyed each of these in their own ways so if you don't mind I think I'm gonna type a bit of text next to them..

@chipistrate This was one of the first I drew out of these, the design was pretty fun to draw but sorry if I messed up a few details, it was a bit difficult lol. The mask and goggles are really fun to draw and they make for a cool design, along with all the glowing blue. (and yes, I tried to subtly include the heelies lol)

@lunzi0 This was the first fursuit one I did lol. I adore the little stars in the design, they personalize it so well and make it really unique. I wanna try this design again since I feel like the other ones show my improvement a bit better, but I hope you can appreciate the effort I put in on my first attempt <3

@carouselrabbit This one was really fun to draw, I absolutely love the eye shape/lashes, it stands out and I always love drawing eyes with a bit of eyeliner lol, the daycare theme legwarmers is a cool nod to the balloon boy arcade machine being connected to them, and was just a fun addition in general lol, I like the style of legwarmers what can I say, fnaf changed my fashion sense a bit. also the subtle paraells to freddy's design is a nice way to connect a bit to gregory himself.

@puhpandas I can't remember if I talked about this design last time I drew it but, overall I'm really happy with how this came out, it's such an indicator of improvement since I started drawing this and I'm glad I was able to draw it better than last time lol. All the patchwork and similarities to Vanny's suit work really well, and the rabbit you chose to base it off of was a good fit, the colors make it a bit more difficult to shade for but i like detail lol, hope you like it too :)

@dykevanny I knew I wanted to do this since I started but I wasn't sure if I'd have time, and I'm glad I did! I hope you don't mind I combined aspects from the first design I saw and the second one you replied to my ask with, I liked the big purple sleeves lol. (I just realized after doing all the shading I forgot to include the oil splatter on his jacket, sorry!) It was definitely a bit difficult due to the head shape being so different but.. fluffy. i love drawing fluff. And the glowing swirl on the goggles, the shape of the ears, I love a lot about this design. :D

I have a hard time with writing compliments but I wanted to get some of those thoughts out, some of the things I like about these designs apply to multiple lol. I adore every one of these designs but I find it hard to put into words what I enjoy about them, hope the original creators are happy with these. <3

I also kept the ggys without as much lighting effects on a separate file, I felt like I should add them since they're a bit brighter lol, makes them look different.

Okay now that I've gotten all that- Sorry this post is so long! I didn't think it'd end up taking up so much space lol. Buut.. working on this drawing and thinking about it and potential context behind it gave me an au idea for it, but I'll put it under the cut since I understand most people probably won't care and just wanna see the drawings lol.

Idk if I'm confident enough to write for it but I'll give a bit of a summary.. I'll keep it under the cut for people who aren't interested and just wanna see the art though lol.

After the main events of SB and Ruin, now that the mimic's been set free, Cassie's taken control of by what's left of Vanny, using her as a new host. But with Cassie being the only human left alive down there, after being reawakened, Dr. Rabbit has nowhere left to go but back to his old host.

Vanessa, Freddy, and Gregory hadn't gone back to the Pizzaplex after ruin, but they were trying to figure out a plan to get Cassie back safely. One night after Freddy and Gregory disappear, Vanessa leaves to go find them. As dangerous as the pizzaplex is, it's her best guess for where they might've gone. She doesn't want to think about what could've happened to them, in denial for the worst case scenario. She tries to keep herself calm by telling herself they probably just left to go back for Cassie, maybe they didn't want her stopping them.. but deep down she knows it can't be that simple. She knows something's off, even if she's not ready to admit it.

When returning to the pizzaplex, she brought along her own V.A.N.N.I. mask, though unlike the one Cassie used, it was clear of the mimic's influence. After all, she was going to need some way to travel through potential blocked routes.

By the time she found Gregory, she'd still been wearing the mask, seeing him down the end of a dark hallway. He looked confused, afraid, his mind was a wreck of conflicting emotions. She started rushing towards him, happy to see him okay, until he finally spoke.

"You need to get out of here."

She stepped back, taking off the mask, only to be faced with the worst case scenario.

It was a wreck, covered in stains and tears, but it was still recognizable. He was wearing that old suit again.

As he waved, she could see Freddy's claws peeking out from the doorway, as the two stepped closer towards her.

So, she did what he told her to do, and started running. She could hear a faint voice coming from the mask, and put it back on before finding somewhere she could hide.

It was his voice again, telling her which way to go.

I guess that was the dramatic way to summarize the main idea behind it, lol. Basically Gregory and Dr. Rabbit work the way Sun and Moon work in Ruin, whichever one is in control in the real world, the other is left behind in the AR world. Or at least that's my interpretation of how they worked, considering Sun was always in mask-on scenes and moon was mask-off. I'm not too sure where the plot might go from there, and maybe I'll consider writing for it, I dunno. I've never wrote fanfic before because I get deadly afraid of writing them out of character lol, but maybe?? I have ideas for scenes and premise and stuff but I don't know if I have the confidence to write it.

But anyway! That was just more of a fun side-idea I came up with while working on this, if you read this far thanks, hope you enjoyed :)

here's some silly little lineless doodles as a reward for making it to the end hehe

now that's what I call an art dump

@ggyweek2024

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koolades-world · 1 month

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wow it's almost been a year since i wrote the original and figured it was about time that i finally made part two. plus I've been trying to clear out my drafts lol

part one can be found here if you're interested in that! part one is it's own complete piece and this is just follow up!

enjoy <3

just like lilith (part two!)

It was a beautiful day in the human world. The sun, while admittedly rather intense, shone down on the beach where two chairs sat underneath a large umbrella. A green towel was strew over of the chairs. A small cooler filled with ice and various snacks acted as a table between them for a couple books and two waters. Nearby the chair was a few small sand sculptures, if they could be called that. They were more like sad, vaguely castle shaped piles. The two occupants of the chairs were nowhere in sight, but they could be assumed to be in the small, nearby cabin that sat tucked back from the shore.

A lone figure was walking the beach, and set their eyes on the house. Grimacing at the sand, they set off towards it. Inside, it was a little cramped, but there was just enough space for two people to be comfortable. The kitchen didn't have a real table, and instead had two stools butted up against a counter. The kitchen itself was small and had the basics. The living room was also small, consisting of just a loveseat, coffee table, and a wall mounted TV. Against a wall sat a ladder, leading up to a small hall with two connecting doors. One was shut, and water could be heard running behind it. The other door was wide open, however, and someone could be heard walking upstairs. A curtain was pulled over the doorway to give the illusion of privacy. With a deep sigh, the person started up the ladder, but was stopped by whoever was in the room with the open door coming out and yanking back the curtain.

"Lucifer." The voice that greeted him was one that he knew well. He sounded oddly calm. Lucifer looked up, knowing exactly who was speaking to him.

"Satan." Lucifer back up a little to get a better look at the demon he though he knew well. He was in swim trunks with a floral print and had a matching flower tucked behind his ear.

"What do you want?" Satan stared down at Lucifer with a silent, burning fury. They hadn't come face to face since the night he and Mc escaped to the human world, and while he'd had to to let the rage dissipate, his festering indignation to how his brother treated both himself and Mc lingered.

"You know why I'm here." Lucifer watched as Satan balled him his fists, and with a deep breath, relaxed them again. He'd been getting much better recently with controlling his anger, and he only had Mc to thank for that.

"The thing is, I don't. You never apologize, and even if you did, it wouldn't even begin to start to repent for what you've done. You don't ever stop to consider how your actions affect others. Your selfish desires always seem to take preference over those around you, even if that person is someone who did nothing but make our lives better. We don't want to talk to you right now." He took another deep breath, and turned his back. "See yourself out and close the door behind you." Satan attempted to yank the curtain shut again, and it remained half open as he went back down the hall. Lucifer knew following him would only escalate the situation more. The way sharp way Satan referred to "we" stung, but this was simply the results of his own actions. Satan was right. Lucifer had simply been cut by the shards of the window he'd broken.

He took a seat in the tiny living room, looking around the the signs of it being lived in. Several more books sat stacked on the coffee table, and a blanket he knew was Mc's was folded on one of the arms of the loveseat. Two mugs of old coffee sat side by side, one half drank and one almost empty. He could easily tell which belonged to who even though the mugs were identical. Mc was a slow coffee drinker but Satan always drank his quickly, since he always did it while reading. Mc also preferred their coffee with more creamer than Satan did, as one mug was lighter than the other. He knew them well, well enough to know that what he did would hurt them even before he went through with it. Yet, he did it anyways.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there waiting. He heard the water shut off and through the half shut curtains, he saw Mc open the shut door, and glance around anxiously. They met his eyes, and he saw them visibly stiffen. They retreated back into the room Satan had went into. He heard their hushed whispering. Eventually, they emerged together again, moving the curtain back over. Satan had one of his arms around their middle, holding them close. Mc's hands were constantly moving. They cracked their fingers one by one and flexed them, studying them. They didn't look up at him.

"Hello, Lucifer." They greeted him, still looking down.

"Hello." He paused again. Satan was looking directly at him, staring into his eyes. "We looked for you for a while." That statement wasn't untrue. The night everything went down had been hectic, and Lucifer doesn't remember resting once.

After Mc ran off crying, the remaining six brothers stood motionless in the dining room. Lucifer was horrified with what he'd done, and his brothers seemed equally as guilty looking. Even if they hadn't actually done anything, they were complicit, and they knew they'd all royally messed up. Beel had been the one to break the silence, with a "now what?" and looked almost as upset as Mc had been. For once, nobody knew what to do. They knew that Satan and Mc always had the answers to these kinds of things, but they were the victims in this situation. Eventually, they resolved as a group to just leave them be until morning. Lucifer couldn't sleep, and spent the night tossing and turning. When he resolved to go apologize and had formulated a response he deemed good, he set off to Mc's room, because they were much less likely to react violently. That's when he realized they were missing. Upon this realization, he checked Satan's room too, and their favorite spots to hang out, but found nothing. He alerted his brothers, and they spend a while searching tirelessly. That's how he eventually ended up where he was now. He wanted to tell them the whole story, but he knew it would just sound like an excuse, or beating around the bush.

Satan and Mc made no move to speak. He tried to continue, but the words died in this throat. "If that's all, you can go now." Mc said. Satan moved to close the curtains again, looking at him with a gaze that told him to actually leave this time.

"No. I'm... no, we're sorry. I know my words aren't enough. Lilith is dead, like you said and pretending you're her is unhealthy and unfair to you. Both of you. My inability to move on should not have to become your problem." Lucifer's rather sudden apology caused Mc to finally look up at him. Their eyes were red, and Satan tightened his grip on them. "Neither of you asked to be part of this dysfunctional family. For that, I'm sorry. You don't deserve this." He looked between the two of them.

"Took you long enough." Satan seemed less angry than he had been before.

"I'll be going now. I just wanted to make sure you were safe." He got up from their sofa, and made his way to the front door.

"Lucifer, wait a moment." Mc was behind him when he turned around. They seemed hesitant, and he saw the remainders of the injuries he'd given them. He felt like a major dick. But, despite that, they hugged him. Not for long, but enough to to function as a thank you, or something along the lines of affection. Satan was quick to take them back once they let go of Lucifer, but the softer look in his eyes let him know that Satan, while had not forgiven him, was grateful.

"Take your time out here. Return when you are ready." With that, he set off, shutting the door behind him, leaving just Satan and Mc alone again.

"He must've felt really guilty to go that far, huh." Mc said quietly.

"It's unlike him." Satan locked the door and peaked out the window for his older brother. He was already gone. "Looks like our plan worked then." He turned back to Mc, who'd sat in the spot Lucifer was just in.

"It's alright to be honest with yourself, you know. He was concerned about us. He was probably searching the entire time we were gone. You hate him, and right now, I kinda do too, but I can't deny he seemed genuinely sorry." Satan took the seat next to Mc. They began to mess with the flower in his hair, readjusting it.

Satan didn't respond, but leant into the touch. While what Lucifer and his brothers did hurt, he felt warmed by how much they seemed to care. "Ready to head back out? I can help you make a sand castle this time, if you want." He smiled at you.

"Yeah, that sounds nice. You're much better at that than I am. While we're out there, we can talk about our plans." Mc didn't stand up just yet. "Thank you, Satan. For everything." They hugged him. It was longer and more amiable than the one they'd given Lucifer.

"Thank you too." Satan felt lost most of the time when it came to matters such as these, but he was eternally grateful to have someone who understood, even a little, about how he felt. He gave them a kiss on the top of the head, causing them to giggle and return the favor.

Despite everything, he had you, and that's all he could ask for.

thanks for waiting!!! here are those who asked to be tagged <33

@eccedentesiast-sapphic @sammywo

#obey me #obey me!#obey me x reader #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me belphie

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valleyof-goldenlilies · 10 months

Text

Se Zaldrīzoti' Prūmia - Chapter 3: When The Lance Fells The Falcon (Daemon Targaryen x Tyrell!Reader)

Chapter 3: When The Lance Fells The Falcon

The day of the Heir Tournament has finally arrived, and what is a joust without some bloodshed?

HOTD Masterlist | Main Masterlist |

Warnings: TW! Depictions of violence, mentions of blood, Daemon being an asshole, angst, the continuation of my blood feud against HOTD’s costuming department

Word Count: 4.3k words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire and Blood characters, save for Y/N Tyrell, although I did expand on their characterisation, which might deviate from canon. All credit for the characters goes to George RR Martin and the showrunners of HOTD. The GIF above is also not mine, original credit to the creator is stated above. Go check them out!

A/N: With all the explicit detailing I included about the character’s dresses, would you guys maybe be interested for me to post some of my fashion designs here, so you guys can get a clearer vision of what I envisioned the characters wearing? Because I find it extremely difficult to translate my designs into words lol, blame my lack of fashion background. And from this chapter on, things are going to start getting serious.

Also recommended that you listen to ‘There Are Worse Games To Play’ on the Hunger Games soundtrack while you read this chapter, particularly towards the end 💗

lovely dividers credited to @firefly-graphics as always!

The fire crackled merrily in Lady Y/N’s chambers, although the room was filled with a ruminative silence. Night had once again descended on the Red Keep, and after tending to Aemma all day, who was in more discomfort than usual, Y/N was exhausted.

She was still simmering with displeasure at Daemon’s words from that afternoon. One could argue that Daemon was merely being careless with his words, but Y/N knew better. Just like many other people, he disregarded her based on her gender. She thought maybe Daemon would be different since he cared not for the restraints society has put on him, but it appears she was nothing but a fool to ever think positively of him.

I sighed, my fingers continuing to weave the bonnet for Aemma’s babe, even though I found no pleasure in the task. Daemon’s words this afternoon had sent me tumbling into an unpleasant spiral of emotions, and I directed my dark gaze towards the roaring fire, where the charred remains of my father’s letter still sat.

Lord Matthos and Lady Primrose, Lord and Lady of Highgarden, and my parents. With my lady mother dead now, and me being their unfortunate sole surviving child, my father had directed his focus on getting me married off as soon as possible. “You must wed and produce heirs that could inherit Highgarden,” my father had insisted, pleaded, even. “I know with your...reputation, it might be difficult to find a match, but you are no longer young anymore, and you must marry as soon as possible. It is the duty you owe to House Tyrell.”

“My duty,” I snorted, nearly pricking myself with the needle in the process. It was simply unfair, why must I be expected to marry and pump out babes for my husband while men like Daemon could prance about freely without a care in the world? I wanted to enjoy my youth, as was my right. Why should i care for duty? Even if my father required heirs, House Tyrell was not lacking in any cousins that could inherit if he should pass.

Indignation coursed through my blood as I began increasing the speed in which I was weaving the bonnet. Even Aemma had reminded me on more than one occasion of the importance of duty, and I was sick of it. There was just some part of me that couldn’t grasp why everyone was so fixated on it. The Seven had granted us one chance at life: one should revel in it by pursuing their own desires. And besides, after witnessing Aemma’s grief and pain over her many miscarriages and stillbirths, I shuddered to think what duty might have in store for me. I was determined that I would not succumb to the notion of the dutiful, heir producing daughter that my father so wished me to be, no matter how much my father pleaded with me. After all, if Daemon could evade it as long as he did, surely I could do the same.

I frowned as I eyed the finished bonnet. Not as pretty as I envisioned, but children grow fast anyway. I went over to the window, gazing at the Dragonpit, dark and imposing against the night sky. It only made me think of a certain princeling, and I huffed, drawing my curtains shut. Rubbing my temples and exhaling heavily. I decided not to waste any more of my thoughts on the Rogue Prince. Clambering into bed, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

I had not expected to be in attendance at the tournament today. Aemma had been experiencing increasing bouts of pain for the past few days, and I wanted to keep her company should the babe be close to making its arrival in this world. Unexpectedly, I had been nearly dragged out of Aemma’s apartments by Rhaenyra and Alicent early in the morrow, with Aemma insisting I go spectate the tourney instead of staying with her like a watchful owl. I had argued, but Aemma specifically called upon Rhaenyra and Alicent as reinforcement, with some explicit threats that I would be quartered, hung and my head placed on a spike should I refuse to attend.

Thus here I was, in the royal box, my face etched with concern as my mind kept wandering over to Aemma. I prayed fervently to the Seven that she would not go into labour in my absence, and to the Mother that if she did, that her labour would be smooth and painless.

“What say you, Y/N?” I was pulled out of my reverie, eyes wide as I muttered an unintelligible “Huh?” Rhaenyra rolled her eyes good-naturedly while Alicent struggled to hide her giggles. “I was just discussing with Alicent why you seem to be favouring gowns of Tyrell green as of late. Usually, we noticed you would be in lighter shades.” My gaze shifted downward, surprised at her observation.

I was dressed in my best, another gown of Tyrell green silk, with fitted sleeves that trailed to a more sheer, but still dark green material that flared out below my elbows. Several gold roses adorned my shoulders, interspersed with tiny rubies. The neckline dipped slightly in the valley of my breasts, but anything that could cause scandal was covered by a layer of Myrish lace. The dress’ skirts clung to my figure, parting at the centre to reveal an underskirt of olive green and gold brocade. It had cost a fortune, and had once belonged to my mother. My signature gold earrings adorned my earlobes, and my hair was pinned into an elegant braided updo. I might dislike the idea of duty to my house, but regardless, I had to represent House Tyrell in the best light possible, especially at such an important event.

Rhaenyra and Alicent were decked out in their finest for the occasion as well. Rhaenyra was clad in Targaryen colours, and I admired the black corset that looked reminiscent of armour fitted across her upper half of her body. Dragon scales were painstakingly patterned on the corset, and they were held together by laces made of fine golden thread. Underneath the corset, she wore a dark red gown with an intricately pleated skirt. The sleeves were off the shoulder, going down to her wrists. Gold shoulder plates set in a dragonscale pattern with gold fringes protected her bare shoulders from the autumn chill. She wore a heavyset necklace cut with square shaped rubies, hammered into gold, and her hair was let loose in a wild cascade of curls. She looked every inch a Targaryen warrior princess. Alicent was dressed simpler, but still looked beautiful nonetheless. A light blue dress of brocade and silk with a square neckline hugged her soft curves, exposing a little bit of her collarbone, where two strands of pearls were draped across her neck. Her sleeves were puffed at the shoulders, stopping short just before her elbow, while the rest of her sleeves were fitted tightly to her wrists. Small delicate flowers were sewn at the hem of her sleeves. Her skirts parted at the centre to reveal an underlying layer of cream white brocade, and her bodice had crisscrossing geometric diamond patterns sewn on it, dipping at her waist with a point. Her hair was fashioned in a half up, half down hairdo, curls tumbling to the small of her back. Both of them had inquisitive looks in their eyes, though Rhaenyra’s harboured a glimpse of impatience.

I smiled a little awkwardly at the question. Truth be told, I had no idea why. My thoughts had been taking on a darker turn since my encounter with Daemon in the throne room and the raven sent by my lord father, and I supposed my choice of apparel reflected my mood. “Well, at such a celebration, it is only fitting of me to dress in the colours of my house.” I reasoned, tilting my head slightly. “Do the darker gowns not suit me?”

“All colours suit you well, my lady.” Alicent said gently. I smiled gratefully at her, as Rhaenyra turned to Alicent and asked teasingly if she suited any colour as well. My smile widened as I watched the two bicker playfully.

We were interrupted however, by the arrival of the King. We all stood up to greet him, bowing politely. He was beaming from ear to ear, as he began addressing the crowd, much to the raucous cheers of the crowd.

“The day has been made more auspicious, by the news I am happy to share: Queen Aemma has begun her labours!” My eyes widened upon hearing those words, and as soon as the King finished his address, I stood up, ready to excuse myself to go tend to Aemma, when I felt a hand on my shoulder, effectively halting my attempts of a hasty exit. “Viserys-”

“I know you want to be there for Aemma,” the corner of Viserys’ eyes crinkled as he spoke gently, trying to push me back down to my seat, “But she asked me to relay a message: trust that she will be alright, and enjoy the tourney instead. It will be your only time to relax before you are swept up in your duties to take care of the babe.”

I bit my lip, a sense of unease washing over me. “But-” “You must stay and enjoy the tourney. Your King commands it. As does your Queen.” I glanced at him, eyes filled with worry, but he only nodded encouragingly.

“If my king commands…I shall obey,” I said with some reluctance, although it dissipated somewhat when Viserys beamed at me, clapping my shoulder affectionately before sitting back down. I sat back down too, my eyes wandering over to Rhaenyra, who gave me a smile, which I returned. I said a silent prayer to the Seven as the first few contenders were being announced, that both Aemma and her babe would be safe and healthy.

The first of the tilts began, to the boisterous cheers of the crowd. I watched as a jouster carrying a shield with a sigil unknown to me quickly unhorsed a squire of House Tarly. My brows furrowed., I turned to Rhaenyra, “Do you recognise the sigil that the mystery knight was carrying?” She shook her head. Alicent leaned over, eyes fixed on the knight as he steered his horse before the royal box and bowed, “I think he’s from House Cole. Of the Stormlands, I believe.”

Rhaenyra wrinkled her nose, “I’ve never heard of House Cole. This should prove most interesting.” I pursed my lips as Lord Boremund Baratheon asked for Princess Rhaenys’ favour, addressing her as “The Queen Who Never Was”, causing the crowd to stir a little in dissent. “You could have Baratheon’s tongue for that.” “Tongues will not change the succession,” came Viserys’ assured response. “Let them wag.”

“Lord Stokeworth’s daughter is promised to that young Tarly squire.” “Lord Massey’s son?” Alicent inquired, a little surprised. Rhaenyra nodded, “They’re to be married as soon as he wins his knighthood.” I snorted, remembering some of the unsavoury rumours I had heard swirling around the court as of late. “Best get on with it,” my voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper, “I’ve heard that Lady Elinor is hiding a swollen belly beneath her dress.” Rhaenyra's eyes widened in disbelief, and Alicent clapped a hand over her mouth as if reeling from the sheer impropriety of it, while I merely shrugged, a smirk tugging at my lips and turned my gaze back to the proceedings.

I leaned forward in my seat, intrigued when the mystery knight of House Cole unhorsed Lord Boremund in a single tilt, much to the crowd’s delight and mocking laughs. Rhaenyra let out a small “oof” sound, while Alicent looked dumbstruck. Mayhaps the tourney would be of some excitement after all.

“Prince Daemon, of House Targaryen, Prince of the City, will now choose his first opponent!” The smile that was forming at my lips dropped in an instant, and I pursed my lips as Daemon, clad in his black armour, raced past the audience astride his black steed, much to the enthusiastic cheers of the crowd. I rolled my eyes: show off.

I was unsurprised and somewhat amused when Daemon chose Ser Gwayne Hightower as his first jousting opponent. Of course, Daemon chose today to be even more of a little shit than usual. Oftentimes, I wondered if he gained his life essence from pissing Otto Hightower off. I craned my neck backwards to catch a glimpse of the Hand’s expression, my lips curving upwards in a smirk when I took note of his irked expression.

Suddenly, I felt a heavy stare upon me, and I turned back to the spectacle to see Daemon’s violet eyes fixed on me. When he met my gaze, that little shit had the audacity to smirk and tilt his lance at me. I huffed and turned away, fixing my eyes on Ser Gwayne instead.

I had to bite my lip to stifle a laugh as Daemon’s lance was nearly knocked out of his hand by a well angled tilt by Ser Gwayne. Mayhaps that smug bastard will get some comeuppance today, I thought with glee.

That glee was short lived as Ser Gwayne was thrown from his horse in an unsightly scene, when Daemon aimed for his horse’s legs, causing the animal to neigh with agony as it slid forward and bucked Ser Gwayne off into the dirt. I heard Alicent gasp with fright next to me, and I reached out to pat her hand reassuringly. That cheating bastard really had no scruples when it came to dealing with Otto Hightower, even to his kin.

I frowned as I watched Daemon parade around on his horse, looking all too pleased with himself. I was caught off guard however, when Daemon came to a stop in front of the royal box, prompting Rhaenyra to get out of her seat, tugging me and Alicent with her. I was screaming internally for Rhaenyra not to drag me into this, but I begrudgingly followed Rhaenyra as she leaned over the railing, grinning at Daemon. “Nicely done, uncle,” Rhaenyra complimented him, causing Daemon to tilt his chin upwards arrogantly. “Thank you, Princess.”

He smirked as he zeroed in on me, lingering behind Alicent. “Lady Y/N,” he called, a certain mischief in his voice. Oh no.

“You look rather radiant today, dressed in your house colours.” I narrowed my eyes, aware of his attempts to bait me, by first paying me a compliment, so that if I rejected him, I would seem ill-mannered. But with so many eyes on us, I could only respond through gritted teeth, “Thank you, my prince.”

“With such a beautiful lady as the one before me, I’d be remiss if I didn’t ask for her favour.” Murmurs echoed throughout the crowd, as I attempted to minimise the lethality of my death glare. This brazen little punk. To ask for my favour after what he had said yesterday-

I leaned forward, whispering harshly, “What in the seven hells do you think you’re doing?” Daemon merely raised an eyebrow. “You know I am certain I can win these little games. Having your favour would all but assure it. You won’t rebuff me with so many eyes watching us, won’t you, byka zaldrizes?”

Grinding my teeth, I did my best to keep my expression neutral. He was right, the crowd was getting restless. I could hear some murmuring from the lords behind me, and even Rhaenyra was nudging me subtly. The gods have chosen to curse me on this very day. I sighed, before moving to retrieve my favour, a small wreath of orange and purple flowers. Sliding it down the lance Daemon offered up, I forced a smile on my face. “I wish you good luck in the jousts, my prince.”

Daemon smirked, having gotten under her skin like he wanted. “With your favour, I’m sure I don’t need it.” Daemon rode away as I rolled my eyes and took my seat once more, Rhaenyra and Alicent following suit. “It appears the Prince Daemon is attempting to play nice today, Lady Y/N,” Alicent smiled at me. Rhaenyra nodded earnestly, “Mayhaps he is starting to be civil to you, Y/N.” I had to refrain from snorting and saying something very derogatory about the Prince, instead letting my surly expression do all the talking.

As Lady Y/N was distracted by the frenzy of the tourney, a maester sidled up to the Hand of the King to relay a message. The Hand’s eyes turned grim, and he turned towards Viserys, whose expression was still filled with mirth after witnessing his brother ask Y/N for her favour. Upon hearing the news, the King’s face visibly blanched, and he got out of his seat swiftly, followed closely by the Hand.

Y/N, Alicent and Rhaenyra were engaged in fervent conversation, completely absorbed in the proceedings. But soon enough, the tourney had given way to violence and bloodshed. Y/N winced and averted her gaze as one after the other, the jousters who chose to continue their battle in arms caved in each other’s heads, fighting each other like feral beasts. A wave of nausea rolled over her, and she did her best to block out the sound of agonised grunts and screams from the bludgeoned competitors. Looking over, she saw Alicent picking at her own fingernails till it was bloody. Frowning, she quickly nudged Alicent, who immediately stopped with a sheepish expression. Covering Alicent’s hand with hers to provide some reassurance, Y/N turned her head backward to take in Viserys’ expression, startled when she realised both the King and the Hand were missing. Cursing herself for her lack of awareness, she quickly moved to get up, but Alicent pulled her down to her seat. “Y/N, you must not leave now!” Alicent insisted, “Prince Daemon is about to tilt against Ser Criston!”

I tried to shake off Alicent’s hand, but her grip was surprisingly strong. “I couldn’t give two damns about Daemon, the Queen needs me-” “It would be rude to leave before you’ve seen the jouster whom you’ve bestowed your favour to compete,” Rhaenyra chimed in, her purple eyes alight with excitement. “Father is there with Mother, she will be alright. They commanded you to enjoy the tourney with us, and as your princess, I order you to stay.” My face fell as I chewed my lip while glancing at the exit of the royal box. Alicent tugged on my hand, and I found myself relenting at the determined looks both of them were levelling at me. After all, there was no harm in staying for just a while. And I might even see Daemon get bested for the first time in his life.

Reluctantly, I relayed my attention back to the tourney, just as both the competitors began charging at each other. Putting a hand over my mouth, I watched as Ser Criston and Daemon both failed to knock each other off their horses in the first tilt. With my heart in my mouth, my eyes nearly boggled out of my head when I watched Daemon being knocked off his saddle and into the dirt.

Daemon had lost.

Mouth agape, I stayed rooted in my seat, even as the crowd all stood to rain thunderous applause and cheers on Ser Criston. I felt a smug smile slowly spreading across my lips. Daemon had lost! At long last, someone had humbled that egotistical bastard, and I had been here to witness it. I sighed happily, savouring the prospect of being able to mock him for this for the rest of his life. “Prince Daemon Targaryen wishes to continue in a contest of arms!”

I raised my eyebrows as Daemon approached Ser Criston, wielding Dark Sister with a dangerous expression on his face. He is nothing better than a petulant toddler throwing a tantrum, I thought to myself, snickering. My eyebrows shot to my forehead when I noticed Ser Criston carrying a morningstar. A most unusual weapon.

The crowd followed the ensuing sparring match with enthralled eyes, myself included. Rhaenyra was nearly falling out of her seat from the way she was leaning forward, and Alicent had a hand over her mouth. When Ser Criston splintered Daemon’s shield, it was like something feral had awoken in Daemon. He began doling out more impulsive blows as anger overtook him, slashing at Ser Criston like a madman and deftly manoeuvring out of the range of his blows.

I clasped Alicent’s hand tightly in mine as Daemon kicked Ser Criston to the ground, pouncing on him with brutal force. When Daemon blocked Ser Criston’s attack by lodging Dark Sister with the morningstar’s chains, Rhaenyra reached over to take Alicent’s hand, squeezing it tightly. Finally, Daemon delivered the final blow, hurling the remains of his shield at Ser Criston, striking him squarely in the face and causing him to flounder on the ground.

I shook my head in disbelief as Daemon raised both his arms up, hollering and revelling in his triumph. But that victory was soon short lived as Daemon felt a slash on his behind, knocking him to the dirt, face first. I felt Alicent reel back in surprise next to me. Daemon tried to lurch for his sword, but was forced to submission by a few well aimed kicks from Ser Criston, breathing heavily as he dangled the morningstar threateningly in Daemon’s face.

“Yield.” Daemon could scarce believe what was happening right now. He had lost. To some unknown commonborn knight. Him, the Rogue Prince. The finest fighter in the Seven Kingdoms. Tasting bile in his mouth, he gritted his teeth. “Yield.” Ser Criston’s voice made it clear that he would not ask again. Daemon chuckled humorlessly, refusing to say a word, but begrudgingly surrendered. He knocked away the arm that the knight offered, rising to his feet before stalking off. While leaving the jousting field, he took note of Y/N running off from the royal box. His ire now increased by tenfold, he swiftly made his way to the exit of the royal box, where he spotted his lady emerging from the shadows. Snarling, he grabbed her wrist, spinning her around to face him. “Daemon, let me go right now. I do not have time for your tantrums-”

“It was you,” he hissed, twisting her arm, causing her to grimace. His rage was blinding him, the heavy pounding of his heart in his ears making his blood boil. “Your favour cursed me. If it hadn’t been for you, I would have won. And instead, I was humiliated-” Y/N scoffed, trying to break away, but Daemon only tightened her grip. “You lost because you were a cocky, arrogant bastard. Do not attempt to blame your failings on me. Now let go!”

Daemon’s vision was nearly red by now, and he pulled her closer to him as he spat out, “You’re not going anywhere, byka zaldrizes.” “Let. Go.” her voice was laced with contempt. “I will not ask a second time. Go reflect and accept your loss, maybe this will teach you some humility.”

Daemon opened his mouth to reply, but they were interrupted by the arrival of that cunt, Otto Hightower. He wanted to spit at him to fuck right off, but the look on his face made him think twice. Y/N’s hand went slack, causing Daemon to release her, worried that he had hurt her. He looked between the both of them, confused, but quickly caught on when he saw the Hand bow his head grimly.

Daemon had experienced a lot of things he would never forget that day, but nothing could compare to the pure look of devastation on Y/N’s face at that moment. The Hand inclined his head, lips pressed together, before he moved past them to the entrance to the royal box, no doubt to inform the other lords.

His anger dissipating, an unsure look appeared on his face as he scrutinised Y/N’s face. She nearly stumbled over, eyes mad with grief, and Daemon unconsciously caught her arm with his left hand, steadying her. She didn’t seem to register his touch however, mumbling in a daze, “Aemma…I need to find Viserys. Viserys…” Daemon followed her movements with his eyes silently, as she mounted a horse reserved for the nobility nearby, spurring it towards the Red Keep. He watched her disappear into the distance, mouth pressed into a thin line, and his purple eyes swimming with a dozen complicated emotions. He needed to get out of his armour, it suddenly felt all too stifling to be in it.

Y/N raced into the Red Keep, taking the steps two at a time as she rushed past startled servants. Barging into Aemma’s apartments, she stopped short when she reached Aemma’s bedchambers, her hand going to her mouth when she took in the gruesome sight before her, praying fervently that it was just some sick nightmare.

Queen Aemma, no, her friend, her dearly beloved friend, Aemma, was sprawled out on the bed, the coppery stench of blood permeating through the room. Trickles of blood still oozed out of the incisions the maesters had made around her abdomen, and Y/N felt bile creeping up her throat as she realised what had been done.

No.

Y/N bypassed Viserys - still hunched over in grief, staring at Baelon’s small, wiggling frame with a broken expression - and went straight to Aemma. Her footsteps felt leaden and unsteady, as she crouched down to hold Aemma’s lifeless hand. She squeezed it desperately, willing her to wake up, to be alive. But it was in vain.

Y/N went still, before she gently reached over and slid Aemma’s wide blue eyes shut. Trembling as tears began to cloud her vision, Y/N noticed the sun’s rays glinting off a small object tucked between Aemma’s sweat covered neck. It was Rhaenyra’s present to Aemma, that necklace with the ruby falcon pendant, its red shining brilliantly in the sun as Y/N and Viserys mourned for their good Aemma.

rip aemma :( and also f*ck viserys, he deserves to be burnt alive, roasted and fed to balerion.

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