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#the summer camp thing is what really makes it sound like a reach
breadbrioche · 2 months
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fit for a princess
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luke castellan x reader
➳summary: a quick fluffy thing because admin eagerly wishes summer can come sooner and is purposely ignoring the ending of the pjo series :D
➳warnings: not proof read, written during multiple fits of delusion, established relationship
➳word count: 1.1k
➳a/n: IM BACK!! Sorry to any who were expecting a TUC fic but the pjo has been my latest obsession so I had to write it
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At Camp Half-Blood, the weather is always perfect but, somehow, its even better than most days. The sun is shining at its brightest yet the cool breeze blowing made it so that it wasn’t uncomfortably hot. As one of many campers taking advantage of the great weather, Luke leans his back against a tree with his eyes closed and enjoying the warmth and listening to the calm sounds of the nature around him.
He winces when a suddenly shadow obstructs the light and peaks his eyes open slightly to see what caused it. Though through blurry eyes as he blinks to adjust to the brightness, he spots your figure looming over him and a smile instantly forms on Luke’s face.
“Can I help you?” He drawls out teasingly. You pout playfully before seating yourself next to him, fingers easily tangling with his like routine.
“You should be thankful I’m even here! Seriously, it took forever to track you down.”
“It’s not like this place is a particularly hard place to find.” Luke argues back but you roll your eyes and lean your head on his shoulder.
“Yeah but I’d never thought you’d be here of all places” You point out as it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“What, can’t a guy just enjoy some peace and quiet?”
At that, you bark out a laugh, not believing him. “Not if you’re called Luke Castellan.” You chastise. “You’re always training as if you aren’t already the best swordsman in the camp”
“Did you come here to nag at me or do you have an actual reason?”
“Oh right!” You reach into your bag and place something atop Luke’s hair faster than he could see what it was. Immediately raising his hands to his head, he gingerly felt around blindly to see what it was. His fingertips brushes against something soft yet so thin he could tell it was delicate but also a more rough and rigid material.
As he carefully removes the item of his head to inspect it, Luke amusedly huffs upon realising what it was.
“You made me a flower crown?” He asks as he admires your craftsmanship - various summer flowers were woven together intricately, intertwining to create a colourful circlet. Leaves were bent precisely to frame each flower, some of which Luke could recognise being sunflowers and marigolds.
“I saw some Demeter kids making them and I wanted to try too.” You explained. “Do you like it? I know it’s not perfect but I think I did a pretty good job with it!”
“I love it.” He confirmed and using his free arm to pull you in for a hug to show his gratitude. “It’s almost as pretty as the person who made it.”
Groaning at his cheesy line, you lightly shoved him off you before taking the crown back into your hands to nestle it on top of his dark curls once again.
“Well I think you look way prettier than I ever could; it really suits you, y’know” you tease with a sly grin. “You’re giving serious fairy princess vibes”
“Are you being for real?” He sighed, looking away embarrassed but making no move to remove the flower crown. You giggled at his actions, cooing as you poked his reddening cheeks. Luke catches your offending wrist before using it to pull you into his lap, his arms wrapping around you and nestling his face into your neck.
“I thought I was supposed to be a hero” he complains against your skin.
As you wrap your arms around his neck, you huff endearingly, feeling how warm his face is.
“Ayy now don’t sell yourself short; you can still be a hero while being a fairy princess. I’m sure there’s a myth about that.”
“I don’t think there is, love” Luke retorts which makes you scrunch your face disappointedly. Though, you don’t dwell on it for long as you gently grab his face and remove it from the crook of your neck. Luke’s face morphs into a confused expression, eyebrows furrowed and dark eyes assessing you to find the meaning behind your antics, but you paid him no mind as you grinned happily.
You don’t understand how the boy before you doesn’t know how beautiful he is - and hell, you’d even say that Luke is way more attractive than any of the Aphrodite boys - especially in this current moment with how the sun made his eyes twinkle and his ruddy skin look like it was glowing.
But unfortunately, your thoughts are interrupted with the way Luke drums his fingers at your side, an unspoken request for an explanation. Stubbornly, you deny him the satisfaction in favour of admiring him more.
However, his drumming becomes more insistent then turns into pokes and before you know it, he’s attacking you relentlessly with tickles. This forces you to release your hold on Luke’s face to wrestle his hands off you. You shriek when he resists your attempts and puts his weight forward which pushes your back to the ground.
“Stop-!! Let go!!” You demand between fits of laughter while you writhe on the grass from the way your stomach cramps, you kick your feet and claw at his hands but Luke is, as always, relentless, finding how the whole situation has turned incredibly amusing.
“What…the fuck was that- “ you pant out when Luke eventually stops tickling you. As you heave, you glare up at Luke - the damn flower crown still perched on his head even after all that - who has a shit eating grin on his face.
“Maybe you aren’t a fairy princess hero after all.” You say accusingly. Luke raises an eyebrow inquisitively before rolling onto the ground next to you, his shoulders bumping into yours in the process.
“What am I then?”
“Probably a monster. A mean,ugly monster who disguised himself as an insufferably pretty boy who’s sole mission is to make my life a living hell.”
After you air out your complaints, it's his turn to laugh; the deep sound almost makes it hard for you to keep scowling at him.
“It still beats being a fairy princess hero, for sure! That job sounds right up my alley.” Luke exclaims, urging you to shove him with a roll of your eyes but he’s not at all unfazed. Rather, he shimmies closer to you so his mouth is at the same level as your ear.
“Y’know what being a ‘pretty monster who’s sole mission is to annoy you’ would mean right?” He asks you, and it’s like you can hear his smirk.
“What.” You reply, not bothering to correct his misquote.
“It means that I would get to be with you all the time.”
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tragedybunny · 5 months
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A Lovely Night - Astarion x F!Reader - TW: Mentions of past suicide attempts
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Just an idea that came to me that I had to write. I promise next thing up is one of the requests that was waiting for awhile.
You and Astarion share a quiet night at camp and end up getting to know a lot more about each other and your relationship.
“Astarion, honestly,” you scold, fussing with one tent pole. “You’re making this difficult on purpose.” 
“I don’t know what you mean, my Dear,” he smirks, and moves suddenly, the half-finished tent collapsing on itself. It’s just a little game to maximize his time with you. The longer you two work at this, the less chance the others have to steal you away. 
“Gods, I’m going to sharpen one of these into a nice, pointy stake.” Your threat is undercut by a poorly concealed smile.
“Oh, what a cruel thing to say.” He widens his eyes at you, all feigned hurt. 
“That’s it, set it up yourself!” Throwing your hands up, you start to walk away, when he catches you, arms around your waist, pulling you in. 
“Fine, fine, I apologize,” little kisses pepper your neck as you squirm, still playing at a show of indignation, and start to giggle. 
“Let me go, you vile beast,” you’ve twisted until you face him, and he brushes his lips against yours. 
Words die away, and you rest your forehead against his, arms looping around his neck. Another soft kiss and the two of you have forgotten the tent entirely. 
Someone groans intentionally loud enough for you both to hear and the two of you dissolve into laughter. Astarion lets you go. The two of you really should make sure you have some place to sleep tonight anyway.
When the tent is finally up, you settle next to each other by the fire. Gale’s cooking again, which Astarion finds preferable. Sometimes when unoccupied, he stares at you like a parched man at a cool stream. Reaching for your hand, his fingers brush the scar on your wrist. At first, he hadn't noticed it existed, his mind divorcing itself from his body when he was intimate with you. Later he'd found it, when he was trying to study and memorize every bit of you while denying the ever-growing place in his heart that you occupied. 
You hadn't told him about what led to it, and he hadn’t known how to ask. Tonight you jerk back as though burnt when his touch finds it, and he wants to be hurt. But you've given him space and patience, he could at least do the same for you. 
So he hooks his arm around your waist and pulls you close until your head rests on his shoulder as you both stare at the crackling fire. "Favorite season," he asks. It's a little game the two of you invented, learning otherwise small details about each other. You knew the larger parts of his past, Cazador and all, and he knew the broad swathes of yours. You left home because you disagreed with your parents, he'd started to figure you for a noble before you'd all but admitted it, and you were a Warlock who couldn't say much beyond that. But the tiny details of you, those you could be free with. 
"Spring, it feels full of second chances and rebirth." You nuzzle your face into his shoulder. 
"Summer," that's the rule, you both have to answer, "it's the only time the night feels alive, even if it is short." 
A sympathetic noise and you kiss his cheek. "A pet that's not a dog or cat?"
"Rabbits," he answers without hesitation. 
"Really?" 
"They make a rather compliant food supply in a pinch."
"Astarion!" You try to sound scandalized, like you didn't know you were in a relationship with a vampire. Playfully, you swat at his shoulder. "Pets are not for eating." 
Scratch gives him a look from across the fire, the mutt never far from your side. "I thought we weren't judging each other," he scolds with a smile. "Your turn."
“What could I trust you with? Maybe something more appropriate like a raven,” you snicker, and he rolls his eyes knowing you can see him. “Oooh, maybe a bat.” 
“Are you making fun of me? You know, if we had anything like that, the neighbors would figure me out for sure, and then there’d be a mob after me. Is that what you want?” 
“Well I can’t trust you not to eat the rabbits it would seem, so what am I supposed to do,” the last word is squeezed out between giggles. Gods, it’s amazing to hear you laugh, even if it is at his expense. 
“Fine, no eating any pets. I promise,” he uses the same honeyed tone from the first days of knowing you, stifling his own laughter. It’s absurd, and wondrous, it almost feels like you're talking about real possibilities of some future beyond all this. 
“What about chickens? What if we had a farm with a bunch of chickens. Would I have to chase you out of the hen house like a fox?” 
“Madame, I’m highly insulted, you would think so low of me. Also, birds are harder to catch than you would think.” Arms crossed, he pouts. 
“You poor thing,” you kiss his temple, “I’m sorry for offending you.” Settling back down, you sigh wistfully. "That would be nice, wouldn't it? A little farm, the middle of nowhere, after we deal with everything."
"If that would make you happy. I'll refrain from any untoward curiosity about your chickens." Not that he ever expects you would really want that with him, you'll come to your senses after all this. 
"Deal. Seal it with a kiss?" He barely gets the agreement out and your lips are on his, gentle at first, waiting for his lead to something more fervent. Lips part, he invades your mouth, the noise you make music to him. A small step, a moment of desire that doesn't send him hurtling back into the abyss. 
"Dinner is done, if you two can tear yourselves apart for a few minutes," Gale practically scolds from across the fire.  
You pull away, blushing, another musical laugh echoing around him. “We can continue this later.” Reluctantly, he surrenders you to dinner, and the conversations the others pull you into. 
After what seems like an eternity, the two of you are finally alone again, the dying fire casting a soft light through the walls of the tent. In the flickering shadows, he watches as you begin to strip, casting the day away as you toss your garments to the side. The sight of you unclothed no longer sparks anxiety, now just a casual expression of your comfort around him. He drinks you in, alluring and unguarded. You are, admittedly, very pretty, but there's something beyond that. It’s that heart of yours, full of kindness, even for someone like him. 
"Why do you always have to play the hero?" He'd accosted you once after yet another noble deed.
"I can't just look away when I could've done something. This is a choice I make every day Astarion. To try to do what's right." You tapped his nose lightly with a finger, and he glared at you. "Even when it comes to you, my dear bloodsucker."
Somehow that was even more amazing to him. Kindness and goodness didn't just come to you, you fought to be that person. He suspected it was against a past that had tried to teach you the opposite.
You reach for the loose nightshirt you'd pulled from your pack. "Leave it off, please." Pausing, you give him a questioning look. "I just want to feel you tonight." 
The way your eyes softened at that made his still heart tremble. "Alright, Love."
After you settled among the blankets, he lays down in your arms, back pressed to your chest, your arms wrapping around him. He knows the touch of his skin brings a chill to yours, but that’s what the generous pile of blankets is for, so he pulls them over the both of you, trapping the warmth of you. 
"This is nice," you say, kissing his neck and shoulders until he feels the tension in his muscles giving way, and he relaxes in your embrace. 
Inhaling, his nostrils are filled with the scent of you. It's the most wondrous thing, and somehow it clings to everything now that you share a bed; blankets, pillows, even his clothes. He's surrounded by you all the time, and even more amazing, he smells himself on you, tangible proof you’re really his. His in the way that you gave yourself to him, just as he was yours. 
Something still feels unsettled in him though, a curiosity, no a concern, from earlier. “Can I touch it?” He blurts without thinking. 
Feeling you stiffen behind him, he curses, you’d had such a lovely evening, and now he’d ruined it. An arm unwraps from him, and you hold it where his fingers could find it. “Go ahead.” 
Two fingers caress it, running along your wrist, deep, straight, no jagged edges. A sharp blade and no hesitation, did they find you before it was too late, or was magic needed to bring you back? A cry tries to tug its way out of his throat, but he clamps his lips shut. There was almost a world without you, a world where you weren’t there to find him on that beach. The thought presses down, threatening to strangle him, and he tries to blink away tears. But he can feel your pulse thrumming under that scar, you’re here, you survived, and you found him. “If anyone ever makes you feel like this again, I’ll tear their throat out.” He knows you can’t say the why or when of it, but he’ll be damned if it ever happens again. 
“Hmm,” you don’t elaborate, but let him keep on with the small circles he’s now rubbing on your wrist. 
“What?” It was probably a stupid notion, look how far you’d brought this group, whatever your past, you didn’t need protection anymore. 
“It’s just different, thinking about someone trying to protect me.” 
“I do try…” Not that you could tell, apparently. 
Your arm shifts back, and before he can be anxious, it finds its previous spot, encircling his chest. Lips bury themselves in his curls and back down along his neck again. “I know. I meant, I don’t know, emotionally.” You huff, and he finds one of your hands to squeeze. “If I was happy never mattered much before.” 
“Well, it matters now.” There’s a deluge of emotion threatening in your words behind a dam that barely holds it back. That’s not for tonight though, or any night soon, he knows you have to finish this fight first. But when he can, when you’re ready, he’ll be there, repayment for the way you hold his heart with a delicate touch. 
“I think I’m starting to realize that.” Another kiss, this one on his ear, making him shiver. “I love you, Astarion.” 
“I love you too. Just…please don’t ever forget that.” It’s all gone entirely too serious. “Withers doesn’t need any more of our gold.” 
Behind him, you make a sound that’s half laugh, half sob, your face is wet where you press it into his shoulder. “Just whine at him, it seems to work well enough on the rest of us.” 
You pull him tight against you, and for this moment, everything is perfect and wonderful and lovely. Tag List:
@micropoe10 @spacebarbarianweird@writingmysanity @mxxny-lupin @azu21 @tallymonster @dependsonthedream @sunfire-ancunin @bambamwolf87 @fayeriess @lumienyx @lisrelly
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hi, cami! it’s me again, the sabo request anon. how are you these days? hope all is well for you!
would you mind writing for monster trio and law comforting their extremely anxious s/o? say, it’s for an exam coming up or a job interview. like they’re losing sleep, not eating much. basically grieving over something they can’t control.
i would love to know how they’d react. thank you so much if you decide to write it! i love your blog! (*´︶`*)
Hi pretty!! Thank you for your kindness and your words! I really enjoyed writing this ♡
Stressful.
Drabbles with Monster trio & Law
Reader is extremely anxious and stressed for an exam/job interview. Boyfriend tries to comfort.
Note: gn!reader. moder au. established relationship. completely selfinsertion.
Monkey D. Luffy:
Luffy is playing with Usop and Chopper outdoors, running and playing with water, taking advantage of the beautiful summer day that it's. But he also wants to play with you, so he calls you, confused when you don't answer right away. Wet Chopper before looking around for you, but he can't find you. Robin, sunbathing next to Nami, points to the inside of one of the large camping tents Franky set up.
They had agreed to spend a well-deserved holiday weekend in the tranquility of the countryside, eating barbecue, playing soccer, eating marshmallows at the bonfire and sleeping outdoors. Breathing some fresh air and relaxing the body was what everyone needed. All the young people were new to university and the older ones were new to work. And Franky, like the good laid-back friend that he is, loaded them all up in a very Franky-style motorhome - no one knows where it came from. The only worry all of you should have is that Luffy and Chopper won't eat all the food on the first day.
Luffy knew that of all of them you were the one who was most stressed, the only one who hadn't finished her final exam season yet. Most of them had only chosen to take a few exams, but you and your obsessive perfectionist ass ended up with more finals than you can handle. As a concerned boyfriend tried to help you in any way he could, but your specialties weren't his strong suit, so Luffy gave you more moral support. Normally a good session of kisses, hugs, junk food and some movie that was too bad to laugh was enough to get you out of the stressful spiral, but this time it was worse. Your mind couldn't stop thinking about that final exam that was getting closer every day. You barely slept, having nightmares about failing the exam, and the hours of rest or eating, you spent rereading your notes and textbooks over and over again.
It wasn't really surprising to walk into the tent and find you repeating some theory perfectly. Luffy found your concern a little silly, you were more than ready to face a simple piece of paper, he preferred not to take things so seriously and wish you were a little more like him, just to avoid seeing you so distressed. What was a little scary was how he found you. You are sitting with your back to him, eyes closed and hands moving frantically to the rhythm of your words. You speak so fast and in terms unknown to Luffy that you seem like some kind of crazy person speaking in a non-existent language. It would be funny if it weren't for the situation.
“Hey,” he calls slowly, not wanting to scare you. When you turn to him, Luffy wishes could take all the pressure off of you. You look, frankly, haggard.
"Luffy," you call, sounding almost like crying. You open your arms and understand perfectly what you need.
He doesn't hesitate another second to reach out to you and turn you into his arms. Let yourself focus on his warmth and small for a few minutes, noticing how your breathing calms and your body relaxes against his. Then he moves them both. Luffy makes you lie down on the floor, on top of the sleeping bags, and tucks you in between his legs and arms.
"It's okay, baby" he tells you. "Everything will be fine."
Only Luffy can calm your mind like that. In it you can find peace. For the rest of the weekend, you can enjoy your friends and nature. You feel much lighter. You're still allowed a round of questions and answers every once in a while with Robin, just to keep you from stressing out about not studying. But, at the end of the day, you can enjoy with your friends.
Roronoa Zoro:
It's two in the morning when a sleepy Zoro moves in search of his favorite heat source. Opening his eyes when after several attempts it's not enough. Your side of the bed is empty. He frowns when sees the time on his cell phone. The storm outside rages against the windows and the wind howls darkly. Winter has come with anger. Zoro knows you don't particularly like this weather. He doesn't need to shout your name or look for you around the house, knows exactly where you are. You've had your sleep ruined for just over a week. You've both been avoiding the topic, Zoro isn't good with feelings and you don't want to look really affected. But enough is enough, the green hair decided.
The particularly cold weather forces him to put on a hoodie despite his naturally high temperature before heading to the small kitchen. Grab a blanket too, knowing you must be shivering from the cold. And it was not avoided. You're sitting on the cold marble counter, with a cup of calming tea that doesn't work and your computer open next to you. You look up when hear him crawl towards you. Silently place the fleece blanket over your shoulders. You thank him with a small smile and return to the screen.
Zoro lets you continue in your world while prepares two cups, one with coffee and another with the herbal tea that his old sensei gave him. It was the tea he only used when needed to meditate deeply, and you needed it badly. He also took a plate and filled it with your favorite cookies that he hid out of your reach. Since that call you didn't stop eating because of anxiety. Zoro didn't understand, how a job interview could turn you into a nervous wreck.
Since he could remember, his life had revolved around swords and martial arts. As an orphan he grew up in a dojo, and never doubted that that was his place in the world. He trained day and night, won every competition until he reached the Olympic games and now had his own dojo. He never had to go through the stress that you're going through, which is why it was so difficult for him to talk to you about it. But Zoro would make an effort.
“You look like shit,” he tells you, swapping your cold mug for a hot one in your hands. You look at him with an unfriendly face.
"I love you too, Zoro," you reply and return to the screen, sipping some of the tea. You don't recognize the taste, but the herbs and heat relax your body immediately. "Thank you."
"Tomorrow is?" He asks, referring to the last stage of the interview. You nod, biting your lip, the very idea eating away at you with fear of failure. “Then you should get some sleep” reasons, but you refuse to sleep, still have to keep going over every aspect to make it perfect.
Zoro sighs and drinks his coffee, thinking about the best course of action. He curses when recognizes that the advice of an annoying blonde could help right now.
"How about you tell me a little about what's got you so worried?" He proposes, sitting at the table, inviting you to follow him. "I can pretend to be the frigid ass examining you."
It's easy to convince you, so you have him talking for an hour and explaining thousands of things that Zoro understands little but listens to attentively. He's impressed by how prepared you're, sure that the job would be yours, but not wanting to say it out loud, so as not to generate more pressure on you. But Zoro can notice how your body relaxes and gain more confidence with each word you say. He's so proud of you.
When the tea begins to take effect and each word begins to sound slower and more deliberate, Zoro takes that as his sign of victory. Both cups empty and the cookie plate clean. He carefully takes you in his arms and returns you to the bed. You let yourself adjust to his whim, too tired. He makes sure to set a couple extra alarms, just in case, before taking you into his strong arms. After so much, you can finally sleep peacefully. You know that tomorrow will be fine for you. Everything would be fine.
Vinsmoke Sanji:
Sanji arrived from Baratie, the restaurant where he works, after midnight. It was an exhausting day, an idiot critic was there most of the day, ordering all kinds of dishes and extravagances. He was an idiot, but Sanji is sure left completely satisfied. He had gained great prestige in recent months after a well-known critic accidentally tried one of his spontaneous creations, earning the restaurant and the young chef an excellent reputation. And although Baratie increased its sales, did the amount of work. Sanji is dead when arrives at the small house you two share. All he wants is to make a little bun in bed with you.
When enters he expects to find the house in darkness and you waiting asleep in bed, not the lights on in the living room. Much less the sea of books, sheets, notebooks, highlighters and notes all over the coffee table, falling on the floor and climbing up the sofa. It's chaos. And in the middle of it, you're. You look at him with a smile too tight to be real. Sanji just stares at you, blinking before reacting. He shakes his head with a small smile. He should have known better, there was no way you were sleeping. The exam that was dying your nerves and bones was just around the corner, the closer the day of the exam was, the less you slept or ate.
“Hello, my love,” he greets you, placing a warm kiss on the top of your head. Your smile loosens a little, becoming more real when you look at him.
"Hi," you greet, your voice dry from spending so much time in silence. You look around. "I'm sorry for the mess."
Your boyfriend shakes the head, removing his suit jacket and loosening the tie. "It's okay, don't worry," brushes it off as he takes off his shoes. "Do you want some tea?"
"Please."
Sanji knows it's no use telling you to get some sleep, but he has other methods. Yesterday he made your favorite dessert, so cut a portion for each of us and place it on a tray next to two cups of tea. Walk back to the living room and make space on the table for the tray to rest on. Your stomach growls at the sight of the candy and you remind yourself of the hours you've been in that position, consuming nothing but water. You don't say anything, don't want your boyfriend to be disappointed with your bad habits. But Sanji is an understanding boyfriend.
He settles behind you and against the couch, enclosing you between his legs and arms. His cologne and the security of his body make you relax your sword and fall on him. Sanji smiles against your hair before leaving a kiss.
"I think someone deserves a break," he tells you, caressing your numb hands with his long fingers. His nose tickles behind your ear and down your neck. Even though your brain struggles to connect to the text in front of you, your body automatically responds to its touch.
“I can’t,” you whine but are weak to his small kisses on your bare shoulder. The summer night breeze coming through the window gives you chills. "I'm in an intense study session."
But all objections were instantly dismissed. Sanji had let go of your hands to concentrate on your sword. In a few seconds you were at your disposal. Exhaustion and his skilled hands left you in a dreamlike state where you could only perceive the warm tea as you swallowed, mixed with your favorite sweet, and Sanji's hands. His natural perfum only accentuated that feeling.
It didn't take long for Sanji to carry you to bed, so that you both finally had a well-deserved rest.
Trafalgar Law:
It was the early hours of the morning when Law arrived at his apartment after a long 48-hour guard. He wanted to shower and pass out in his bed. He stumbled into the darkness, but without hitting anything. In the kitchen washed his hands with white soap and drank a large glass of cool water. His head hurt. Even as he was tired, noticed the cutlery set and the plate in the dryer. It was strange, and looking down the hallway he could also see the light in his room on. He didn't think much about them, you, his girlfriend, and Bepo, his best friend, had keys to the apartment. One of you may have left the light on, it wouldn't be the first time. Tired, he goes to his room. He wasn't expecting you at all, but he wasn't surprised either. He wasn't expecting you at all, but he wasn't surprised either.
You're in the middle of his bed, in a nest of blankets and your phone illuminating your distressed face. You're watching videos of kitties. Law shakes the head when you don't acknowledge his presence, too focused on your phone and your head in a mess. He silently grab a towel and some old clothes as pijamas. There was no point in interrupting you, you were too tired and too engrossed in your world.
When Law get out of the shower hope to come back and find you at least away from your phone, but you were still there. Law bit back a lecture about using blue screens before bed, he knew what you were going through and besides, it would be a little hypocritical to criticize your bad habits when his only healthy habit was drinking water and exercising. But seeing you like this bothered him. You were the one who always took care of him and waited for his health, forcing him to eat, get fresh air and sleep at least eight hours straight a day. He didn't like seeing you so distressed. It was his turn to take care of you.
Without saying a word, he lie down on his side, looking at the mess you're made of. The job interview you will have in a few days has been eating your brain. The harsh reality that no one wants to hire a recent graduate is hard, and an opportunity like the one that presented itself to you just a few days ago feels like a big responsibility, something you can't fail at. You have been preparing for it long before the call, but the last few days have been almost obsessive as you have only thought and acted around it. You barely sleep and the anxiety on you is too much to control, so you resort to the only method to calm yourself: deactivating your brain with videos of kittens. It's the only thing that seems to work, but at this point, not even the cutest kitten can seem to stop you from wanting to tear the skin around your fingers.
Law sighs, watching your brain spiral, before taking your phone and moving it away from you. It's only then that you look him. You don't know which of the two has the biggest circles under your eyes. Law covers you both with the blanket correctly. The heating doesn't seem to work, it's freezing.
“Hello,” you say then, voice raspy and tired.
"Hello” greets you back. His tattooed hand runs over your tired face, you close the eyes enjoying his attention. He kisses the tip of your nose before pulling away only to pull your body closer to his.
“How was the guard?” you ask settling into your usual spot on your boyfriend's chest. You hear him growl as takes your hand on his chest between his larger hands.
"We're tired, let's sleep” he almost ordered. “Tomorrow we have the day off so we can talk as much as you want and I can help you review for your interview,” he promises with a vague smile. “We can also eat all the chocolate you want.”
Hearing that makes you stand up a little to see he better. For the first time in the day you manage to smile. You have the best boyfriend ever, no matter how tired or busy he is, always makes time for the two of you. You see him open his eyes tiredly and you feel so grateful. You kiss him on the lips before returning to your spot.
"Good night Law.”
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A big and warm hug if you're going through a great moment of stress and anxiety ♡
Cami's tip: eating dark chocolate or your favorite sweet is a great help!!
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heartfullofleeches · 9 months
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Camp counselor darling and slasher yan? 👀
Fire crackles in the pale moonlight. Figures cower behind a tree stump as a shadow rises from its amber flames, beckoning the braver of the group to draw closer as its voice drops to a grumble.
"It's said that in this exact forest - right where you're all sitting, is where those hikers met their end. On what had been a quiet, peaceful hike until then, the group suddenly began to hear whistling from the trees. A bird's call some would claim, but none of them could argue the strangeness of it all. The sound was a constant as they moved on, switching directions and even allegedly playing right in the leader's ear. A chilling drone that drew further when brought into question- like whatever was watching them was enjoying their increasing fears. They say if you listen closely - you can still hear it-"
The shadows purses its lips in a would be bone rattling hum save for the giggle they're unable to keep in. Still - the call works in favor of their narrative; teeth chattering from more than just the cold.
"The group collectively ruled to write it off as the sounds of the forest, but the deeper they traveled, the louder it grew... and louder... and louder.... until...it fell from the trees."
A hand slips discreetly into its pocket and over the flames - the fires quickly consume the salts and burst in a fiery, devilish red.
"The severed head of one of their members... missing their tongue!"
The screams of the campers reach all the way back to the main hall as you laugh maniacally- drinking the sweet cries of your victims for as long as they'd play along. With a playful shove from behind, the tarp dropped over your shoulders fall into the arms of your fellow teammate as they shake their head with a chuckle.
"Quit telling ghost stories before lights out. We want them to actually sleep when we get them indoors."
"Aww, come on - they earned it. Clean up their mess on time and majority of what you see here won the tug of war game earlier. That counts for something - right?"
You glance back at your audience who all agree on the notion. It was nice to have some people on your side. Really, you couldn't imagine a better way to spend your summer. Your fellow council was a blast, and groups like those seated around you loved the stories and games you came up with. There honestly weren't any issues at the camp - until your last story about man eating spiders left a camper with a fuzzy blanket restless.
Your teammate stifles their grin and tucks the tarp under their arm, clasping their hands over their mouth as the address the campers. "Alright, lights out in ten. Make sure you have all your belongings or we will take them for ourselves. Stick to the buddy system and get back to your cabins.... that means you too, Y/n."
You wave them off, crossing your legs over one another as you sit in the dirt. "Yeah, I know. I'll head it once the fire dies."
The campers gather their things and wave their goodbyes.
"Bye, Y/n."
"See you in the morning, Y/n."
"Can't wait to see what you got next!"
"See you!" You wave everyone off, warming your hands at the fire as everyone leaves. Eyeing the supplies someone had forgotten, you search around for a stick and roast the remaining marshmallows over the embers as the passing breeze snuffs the roaring sparks. You zip up your jacket as it bites - leaning back to watch the moon as it ducks behind the hanging trees. One by one, lights around the camp go out - a soft hum enduring as the whir of electrics drains out. A branch snaps behind you.
"Dawn? You back already?"
Silence...but still, faintly- breathing. You laugh, sandwiching the marshmallow between two crackers. "I know you're here. I can hear you."
Weight shifts behind you. You look back to see, but the branches and haze of night obscure your sight of the silhouette in the trees. ".....I like your stories...."
"Thanks.... but you're not Dawn.... Lewis, that you? I told you I'm not interested, but you're still welcome to sit by the fire."
" 'fraid not.... I'm not from your part of the woods. Is this.. Lewis giving you problems, Dear?"
"Nah, just a flirt... Who are you then."
Silence - followed by the dying pops of the fire. "Just passing by. Live up the creek a few miles down and fancy a stroll now and then. Didn't know the camp wad reopening so soon and overheard one of your stories a couple nights back. You're a whole lot nicer than the group they brought in last year.... cuter too."
"You sure you're not Lewis?... You're welcome to come back and listen another time if you like - if you're just passing by again."
The smile in their voice is indisputable. "I'm sure we'll be seeing alot of each other, Y/n... I can almost guarantee it."
"Right, hey - it's getting kinda late so I have to go. There's still some marshmallows in the bag you can have if you want." No response. You take it as a yes anyway and leave the bag out for them as you throw what remained of your smore into the pit. You stand up, leaving to grab something to put out the fire and the charred remains of your dessert. A figure steps from the shadow and completes the first task for you - picking up your half eaten smore and dusting off the ash as they lowered their mask. A hum at the sweetness of the treat pitches into a soft whistle as the figure disburses back into the trees.
You exit the main hall, water bottle in hand and head back to the pit site - stopped by none other than your teammate from before.
"Hey, Y/n- you seen Lewis anywhere? He said he was going to check out some noise he heard and hasn't come back yet."
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raccoon-eyed-rebel · 8 months
Text
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Don't knock it till you try it
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Masterlist
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Pairing: Syverson x reader x Walter Marshall (technically college AU. I needed to make the road trip scenario plausible.)
Summary: Your friends Walter and Sy have offered to drive you home for the summer, and you have decided to turn it into a nice relaxed camping trip on the way...
Word count: 9146 (yes, really...)
Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering (vaginal, anal - f receiving), oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex (vaginal, anal, DP - f receiving), masturbation (f), smug and dirty talking Sy, sex in a tent, hint of a size kink (blink and you miss it), silly bets, and an astonishingly solid bromance. I think that's all, but call me if I missed any.
A/N: I've finally really stopped hurting the boys and now we're just going for some nice relaxed sex in a goddamn tent, dammit! Also yeah I'm going to keep imagining the boys in college until the day I die, I don't know why (maybe because I'm young), but just... idk, read it as a memory or something? idk :')
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@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss
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You were not – by a long shot – the first girl to see the backseat of the beat-up chevy pickup you were sitting in. Fact. A fact so factual, in fact, that Sy hadn’t complained when you demanded he put a blanket down for you to sit on, which told you more than you really wanted to know.
Now, your eyes kept drifting shut to the sound of tires on asphalt and the bickering of soothing baritone voices in the front seat. The outside world consisted of mountain views and clear blue skies, and the fresh breeze of early summer that worked just hard enough to raise goosebumps on skin, but inside this rusty old vehicle the atmosphere was dominated by two pairs of broad shoulders, deep voices, and what you always mockingly referred to as ‘disgusting man sweat’ – always hoping neither of them would ever find out how often you dreamt of licking those salty droplets off their abs after a workout.
Both of them had shown up, first semester, in a class they didn’t have a prayer of passing, and you’d been teamed up with them because of what you then thought to be a hideous trick of fate. Somehow, you whipping them into shape for that tutorial hadn’t put them off you, and what started as whatever the educational equivalent of ‘frenemies’ is, turned into study buddies and eventually friends. The only downside to your friendship was that you chronically had to explain to your entire dorm that, no, you weren’t sleeping with either of them – let alone both of them.
As you still toed the line between asleep and awake, a heavy hand on your knee – belonging to Walter – made a decision for you in favor of consciousness.
“We’re hungry,” he said.
“You’re always hungry,” you grumbled as you reached for the bag of food and snacks on the other side of the backseat. It was a good thing they didn’t bother to deny it, because you would have strangled them both. God forbid you ever left a bag of Doritos out in your dorm. Seconds! Gone!
Sy had the stones to ask for a tuna sandwich. Absolutely the fuck not!
“I’m not opening that bag in this car, Sy.” It already smelled like stale beer and weed in there. Not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’re not allowed to smoke on campus, so this is our only option’ way. That said, adding tuna to the mix would be a complete disaster.
“Suit yourself,” he snapped. You rolled your eyes. For the love of God, it was all of ten minutes past feeding time! Walter snickered as he held out a hand. Turkey on wheat for Walter, BLT for Sy, mozzarella pesto for you. You’d splurged on groceries, because the boys had offered to take the lion’s share of the drive.
“We were thinkin’ of callin’ it a day soon, sugar.” They’d had morning classes, and you were falling asleep while on snack-duty… Plus, you’d agreed to just take it easy the whole drive. It was summer; there was no need to rush home.
Sy pulled off the highway, quickly ending the smooth, rhythmic hum of the tires on the road, until the asphalt finally made way for the crackling of gravel. Without Sy, you never would have found the campsite at which you pulled over. Camping ran through that guy’s veins, as you could tell from the impressive amount of camping gear in the bed of the pickup – all his.
Even though he helped you get out of the truck, you still lost your footing and stumbled into him, leaving Walter grinning to the side of the spectacle, commenting on your horrible clumsiness.
“Dunno,” Sy replied with a sly smile. “Guess she’s just fallin’ for me.” The cheesy joke made Walter stop dead in his tracks.
“I think that’s twenty-five,” he deadpanned, looking at you. In a less-than-sober state, somewhere in the past year, you had made a deal: if either of them managed to make that joke twenty-five times before the end of the year, you’d… Alright, let the records show that when you made that bet, you had been entirely convinced they’d never take you up on the offer to let them kiss you. But they had.
“You’re not gonna hold me to what I said back then, are you?” you asked in a small voice, your cheeks so hot you could probably fry an egg on them. The door of the truck slammed shut behind you, and Sy slowly stepped forward, forcing you to step back, until you were backed up against the truck, with him leaning over you – completely caged in between his solid body and the car.
“Deal’s a deal, sugar.” There was no trace of his usual grin, no hint of the mischievous glint in his eyes that normally told you he was kidding. He just came closer and closer as your eyes went wide – Walter did nothing. Jackass.
Not that kissing Sy was something you didn’t want. Oh no! In fact, it was something a fairly large part of you wanted so badly you thought you might burst. On some days, being close to either of them – let alone both – was torture, where your heart raced every time they came near you, and you unconsciously held your breath when they touched you… And while the guys just freely admitted to having sex dreams about you, you kept the little nugget of truth that you had similar dreams about them, tightly under wraps. Not because you thought they’d tease you about it, or anything, just… No, wait, actually that’s exactly why you didn’t tell them.
A few more seconds passed in which your heart tried its best to jump out of your chest.
“This isn’t funny, Sy,” you snapped on a sharp exhale when his mouth curled at the corners into that signature smirk you loved to hate. Finally able to gather your thoughts as well as your strength, you put your hands on his chest and pushed. It was a good thing he let you go, because if he had decided to stay put, you wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell.
“I want my kiss, sugar,” he called after you as you paced away to… alright, you didn’t actually know where you were going, but away, at least. “One way or another.”
As pissed – or confused – as you were, this was ‘the outdoors’ and therefore absolutely not the type of environment you were well equipped for in any kind of way, thus you decided it was best to stay close – within earshot, at least – to the boys. But they could take care of unpacking and pitching tents and whatever the fuck else needed doing.
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“Hey.” Sy sat down next to you on the rock you had claimed, and put an arm around you. This was oddly comfortable, especially compared to the tense situation by the car, earlier. “I was messin’ with ya back there, you know that, right?” Whether it was to make a point, or simply because Walter wasn’t watching – or maybe because the threatening wall of man from before was now your familiar gentle giant again, you had no idea, but you impulsively reached for Sy and kissed him on the cheek. A low chuckle escaped him, and he pulled you closer.
“There’s a trail up to a waterfall we maybe wanted to check out, you in? Easy hike.” The good thing about hanging out with the guys was that they really considered your level of… adventurous ineptitude. If they suggested this hike, it meant they were at least medium convinced you could actually make it there and back in one piece – or that they could make it at least halfway with you on their backs.
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The hike led up to a beautiful, clear river, and a spectacular waterfall. Between the smell of the woods, the sun comfortably warm on your skin, and the phenomenal view, this hike had been more than worth it – never mind that you were all sticky and sweaty from trying to keep up with the guys and their superhuman pace.
“On the way back, can we please remember that I have little legs?” you complained as you sank down onto the rock at the river bank the boys had selected to eat yet another sandwich on. Sy hummed, finally contently munching on the tuna sandwich you’d denied him in the car, and Walter laughed. You sat in silence while your friends ate their food, which meant the rock inevitably became too boring for your limited attention span.
What started off as a relatively sure-footed expedition over the rocks that stuck out of the water, inevitably ended with your very accurate portrayal of a soaking wet person regretting most – if not all – of their life choices. Sy sighed and rolled his eyes as he swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, taking his sweet time to get up and make his way over to you to fish you out of the water – which he then called ‘refreshing’ instead of ‘freezing fucking cold’. That didn’t improve your mood. Next, Walter had to dive for your phone – which, luckily, could swim, but was still going to be next to useless to you at the bottom of this far-deeper-than-anticipated vein of icy death.
Shivering, covered in goosebumps and with chattering teeth, you stood on the bank of the river.
“Take your shirt off,” Walter commanded, plucking his own off the dry rock.
“What?” you stammered, staring at him in disbelief. Now, that alone would have been just fine, if your eyes hadn’t dropped from his face to his chest. Small droplets of water dripped from his hair and beard onto his shoulders and chest and… somehow trickled down his body in slow motion. If they knew how much willpower it took to lift your eyes to his again, they would never let you live it down. Sy repeated his words from a distance – there went your excuse that Walter had just been talking too softly. Sy was still up to his knees in the river, unbothered by the cold, just hanging out there as if that water didn’t rival the fucking arctic ocean for temperature.
As you looked at him, he started to walk back to the riverside. The sun was starting to set, changing the light in a way that made it look like Sy, much like those fucking drops of water, was moving in slow motion, flecks of sunlight dancing over his skin… These guys were distracting enough when they were dry and dressed, but now that they were wet and half naked, with damp, coarse curls sticking to their chest and abs, catching the water that dripped down from their heads… These boys were fucking with your head. Big time.
“Sugar, take off your shirt, please,” Sy repeated when he stood next to you. “You’re freezin’, let’s get you a dry t-shirt, at least.” Oh. So, they weren’t putting the moves on you. Good to know. Hopefully, your exasperated sigh didn’t give away any of the disappointment you felt. With a little help from Walter, you lifted your soaking top over your head, not caring that they saw you in your bra until it was already too late. Sy used his t-shirt to dry you off a bit, before handing you Walter’s to put on. The whole time, they kept their eyes in decent places, and their hands didn’t wander anywhere they shouldn’t. Now, why did that make you feel sad?
“We should head back,” Walter said – mostly to Sy. The sun disappeared rather quickly, and without the heat from it, that dry t-shirt – save for the two tit-shaped wet spots where your soaked bra touched it – didn’t do much to keep you warm.
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By the time you made it back to the campsite, you were shivering again. The walk had done next to nothing to warm you, and your still wet jean shorts chafed painfully against your thighs. Not to mention your thighs were starting to chafe painfully against your thighs. So, the first thing you did was disappear into the tiny single tent that was meant for you – as you had made it abundantly clear that sharing a tent with the boys was out of the question – and change into something dry, warm, and comfortable. The guys did the same, although – as it turns out – their version of ‘warm’ included no shirts. Did they ever get cold?
It was tough enough to keep your eyes off Sy in cargo shorts – although Walter in jeans was just as much of a sight for sore eyes – but now that it was getting dark, the sweats came out to play. You silently thanked Walter for his choice of black sweatpants, because keeping your thoughts out of the gutter was hard enough already. Sy was shamelessly sporting a pair of grey sweats, filling them out just about as nicely as humanly possible as he sat there, getting a fire started. The sly glances and that godforsaken smirk he flung your way from time to time told you that he was more than aware that you were checking him out.
The heat from the fire alone wasn’t enough to warm you up. Sy’s solution was tequila – which helped, but not quite enough, so Walter wrapped you in a blanket, pulling you close to his side as he ran his hands over your arms in an attempt to stop your shivering. At the same time, Sy inched closer, and before you knew it, four arms were wrapped around you.
Apart from being hot, proverbially, these guys were hot in the literal sense, too, warming you up slightly more effectively than the blanket around your shoulders and moderate amount of alcohol in your system. Still, the icy temperatures from the ground you were sitting on seeped into you without mercy. Of course, the boys took notice, both getting the same idea, and each grabbing one of your legs to try and pull you into their respective laps. Needless to say; it didn’t work, and you just ended up with spread legs, sitting between them on the floor. Sy had that twinkle in his eye, that smirk on his face that was dripping with confidence and indecency… You had to get out of there before he could speak!
As you scrambled to your feet, mumbling something about getting another blanket for yourself to sit on, you tripped and fell into Walter’s lap. Of course! You had been keeping score on that bet as well, and you knew you had come here – fucking camping – with both of the guys stuck on twenty-four counts of the same lame fucking joke… This was your fault, really.
To your surprise, however, Walter said nothing – instead, he smiled politely, pulling you into a more comfortable position in his lap.
“You’ve earned it,” you whispered, although you had absolutely no idea why. Maybe because it was the truth, maybe because you just wanted this bet to be over. Either way, it hurt you that he didn’t make the dumb joke, and asked to collect his reward the way Sy had. Hoping to get up before Walter looked into your eyes – where your thoughts were no doubt displayed for everyone to see – you made a move that was entirely too advanced for your mediocre balance and agility, and you crashed down again, this time falling harder than before. As Walter grunted, panic shot through you…
“Darling, I’d ask you if it hurt when you fell from heaven, but so far the only person who got hurt in that process, is me,” he blurted out in a strangled voice, while Sy was losing it next to you, howling from laughter.
Was it the booze? The fire? The tension from this afternoon? The fact that you were sitting in his lap, with his hands maybe a tad too low on your hips, but high enough to not rouse suspicion? Or maybe just your complete lack of self-control? Whatever it was, it caused you to move to straddle his thighs, and without thinking about it for so much as a second, you kissed him. If you’d had a sliver of hope before that Walter would break the kiss after an at least semi-decent amount of time, it was gone now, because the hand on your hip pulled you tighter against him, and his other hand tangled in your hair.
Walter kissed you. It took far more effort than you had ever expected to really let that sink in, but at the same time there was no way around it. He was kissing you, and it was eager, and rough, accompanied by ragged breaths and the occasional moan. It managed to make you forget everything around you. Everything except for Sy – mainly because he let out a pained grunt just as you were about to stick your tongue down Walter’s throat.
“I got a kiss on the cheek, man,” he groaned as he leaned in slightly on one elbow.
Now, if you had been thinking clearly, you would have laughed it off, gotten up and gone to bed. Safe to say, you were not thinking clearly.
Sy’s mouth felt just as good on yours as Walter’s had, with similarly soft lips, a similarly coarse beard scraping your skin, and a similar roughness to him that only wound you tighter. You moaned, your hips unconsciously grinding into Walter’s, his growing hard-on providing extra friction to soothe the ache between your legs. When you briefly opened your eyes to see if Sy was as involved in this as you were, you saw him palm his own erection through his sweats – casually adjusting its position before focusing on you again. In that moment – timed perfectly with a moan from Walter – something inside of you snapped.
“I’m going to bed,” you stuttered as you broke the kiss with Sy, at the same time scrambling to get to your feet – this time succeeding without falling into anyone, and making it to your own tent without a hitch. ‘
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Now, if it had been a sober conversation, and it hadn’t been in the middle of nowhere without a sound to be heard for miles other than crickets, the occasional owl, and the crackling of the fire, at least half of it would have been inaudible from where you had pitched your tents. But the boys were too drunk, and their voices too deep and dark – the sound just traveled too far. You could have ignored them. You could have turned around, pulled your sleeping bag over your ears, and pretended to be asleep until it became the truth. Instead, you listened, sometimes straining to understand what they were saying.
“So, who do we say got her first?”
“I’m asking for a do-over.”
“Because it was me?”
“We could just… Y’know…”
“Think she’d go for it?”
“What, both of us? My ex did…”
“But she was nuts.”
“Hey! Okay, fair enough.”
Both of them? Both of them? As in… Separately? Or… Oh, what the fuck did it matter! The answer was yes.
What surprised you most about your thoughts was how completely unsurprised you were by them. Somehow, the idea of sleeping with both Sy and Walter felt as natural as could be, and left you not only stumped, but with another problem that needed tending to…
Without thinking, you slid your hand down your body, and into your sweatpants. Kissing the boys had definitely had its effect on you, you had known that as soon as it had happened, but the extent of the mess between your thighs was still quite surprising. Somehow, tasting both of them, followed by your eavesdropping, had made you dripping wet and craving something more than just your fingers. Unfortunately, they’d have to do.
You thought of that first kiss with Walter, then the one with Sy, then wondered what it would feel like to have those beards scratch the skin of your neck, slowly making their way down to your chest. Would they lick? Bite? Moan? You pictured Sy, eagerly making his way further down, while Walter kept his attention on your chest. Would he be as quiet as he always was? Was Sy as loud as you imagined him to be?
There were so many things to wonder about, besides the obvious size question, that the thoughts consumed you completely as you worked yourself up to your peak. So completely, in fact, that you didn’t hear the guys return to the tents – just as you squealed from pleasure while you came. Hard.
“Fuck, sugar,” Sy said from outside. Walter warned him to stop talking, but he didn’t listen. “Tell me if you want any help.”
It was tempting to say ‘yes’. It was tempting to crawl into that tent and tell them you had heard everything they said by the fire. It was tempting to offer yourself up on a silver platter, hoping they’d make good on their promises from before by fucking the life out of you. But things that are tempting can also still be difficult, so you did nothing. Well, nothing… If ‘dying of embarrassment’ counts as ‘something’, you were definitely not doing nothing.
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The sound of your own teeth chattering prevented you from falling asleep, even though you could hardly keep your eyes open. And who knew goosebumps could hurt like this? The boys had warned you beforehand that it would get cold at night, and you’d even told Sy what you had planned on wearing as pajamas, and he’d said you’d be good. Well, you weren’t good. You were covered from head to toe, and you were not – by any definition of the word – ‘good’.
As hard and painful as it was to just lay there and freeze, it was harder to get up, worm your double-socked feet into your sneakers and get out of your tent. Outside, it was pitch black, and the dim light of your phone was barely enough to prevent you from falling flat on your face. You had to credit the boys with their incredible foresight to keep the path from your tent to theirs free of tripping hazards – something you were so delighted in at that moment that you forgot to question whether or not there was some sort of ploy, or whatever in place. Lewd scheme or not, you were glad to make it without a hitch.
“Eh, guys?” you whispered after zipping open the tent and poking your head in.
“Hm? What?” It was Walter – and from Sy’s continued snoring, you deduced that you shouldn’t wait for him to answer; he wasn’t waking up.
“I’m really fucking cold,” you admitted reluctantly. That seemed to wake Walter up a little more…
“Cold? You could go on an expedition to the north pole dressed the way you are!” The sleep-drunk slur of his voice was… adorable, in a way. To his left – no, his right… To his left from where you were standing? The left side of the air-mattress they were on when you looked at it, standing at the foot of the bed, the right side if you were actually lying in… oh for fuck’s sake! Next to him, Sy groaned and turned – although you couldn’t see any of that, because it was very dark.
“The fuck is going on?” he grunted, his voice gravelly and dark – which did a good job of making your knees weak.
“She’s cold,” Walter replied dryly.
“There’s no way,” Sy said in disbelief, “she’s dressed for winter in Alaska.”
“If you two are done mocking me, I’m actually freezing my ass off out here. Do you have an extra blanket or something?” you snapped.
“Sugar, we’re not even wearin’ shirts,” Sy said, his voice steadier now that he was waking up.
“Great, so you put on a shirt, and I’ll take your sleeping bag.” It was a shame they couldn’t see you roll your eyes, but the snippy tone would surely get your point across.
“Or you could just come here, love,” Walter said all of a sudden. There was rustling in the tent and then a dim red light over your heads turned on.
“Interesting choice…” you started, but Walter and Sy chuckled.
“It’s easier on your eyes, sugar.” Shit, Sy was easy on your eyes, god damn. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the way he casually lounged on that fucking mattress right now, with that arm behind his head, eyes half shut…
Walter was sitting up, holding a hand out to you, waiting patiently until you had zipped open the door further – which took so long that he ended up helping you with it. As you got in, he got out, and for a moment you were scared he would offer to leave you with Sy while he took your tent, but after a while he returned holding your backpack and sleeping bag.
The bed was a bit small for the three of you, especially since the guys were so bulky, but you managed to make it work. The only thing was… shivering in between them was hardly more comfortable than shivering by yourself, and now there wasn’t enough space to curl up into a ball and hope for the best.
“Sugar, stop squirmin’, c’mere.” Sy’s strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, when up until now you’d been trying desperately not to touch either of them. “Alright, I take it back, she is freezin’.” A gesture to Walter you could feel but not see, made him scooch over, too, until his body was flush against yours.
Your heart raced in your throat when warm hands slipped underneath your hoodie, stroking your side and – eventually – your stomach. Somewhere down the line, you forgot how to breathe properly, taking in shallow breaths, hoping the guys wouldn’t notice. Of course, they did, because they were inches away from you.
“You should take this off, sugar,” Sy mumbled into your ear. Every muscle in your body tensed up at the suggestion, and it felt like the air was knocked out of your lungs.
“C-can’t,” you stammered, “I’m not… eh… I’m not wearing a bra.”
“Fairly sure we’ve seen a pair of tits before, love,” Walter replied, right at the time Sy muttered ‘neither are we’, making you laugh. Somehow, all of this seemed innocent – or rather; you were convincing yourself it felt innocent, and any subtext and undertones were a figment of your imagination, instead, when in fact, it was far more likely that it was exactly the other way around…
“Not mine,” you protested, biting your lip as a third hand, belonging to Walter, began to roam your back.
“We’re aware of that,” Sy said, his voice dangerously close to your ear. His breath was hot against your cold skin – a sensation that made you shiver.
“In fact, we try not to think about it. It makes us sad,” Walter said, leaning his forehead against yours, sliding his hand down your back and then up your side until his thumb was less than an inch away from the underside of your boobs.
For a moment, the thought that this was just a tactic to actually warm you up flashed through your head, because – in all fairness – it was working. Every part of you was suddenly glowing, breath quick and ragged in anticipation of whatever it was that would come next. What surprised you, though, was how calm they both seemed. Then again, they had already – unknowingly – admitted to having done this before. If that was where this was headed, which you still didn’t quite know for sure… It was as if the guys were both waiting for something. Waiting for… you.
Your lips trembled as you tilted your head up, Walter taking your hint and pressing his lips to yours. Sy pushed your hair out of the way and latched on to your neck. Neither of them went straight to groping you – not more than they had been up until now – but it was only a matter of time before you felt Walter’s hand creep up to your chest. He broke your kiss, his eyes silently asking for permission, which you gave him with the flash of a smile and a slight nod, gasping when his fingers brushed past your nipple. Despite the rising temperatures in the tent – even though most of that was likely just your imagination – the difference between your skin and Walter’s was striking, and you moaned when his warm hand cupped your breast.
Sy was less subtle by about a million degrees, boldly grabbing as much of your other boob as humanly possible – and he had big hands, so you quickly ran out of tit for him to dig his fingers into.
“Can you take it easy,” you blurted out as you laughed in surprise at his – as far as you were concerned – unwarranted enthusiasm.
“Darlin’, I’ve been dreamin’ of these tits for weeks, throw a man a bone.” He groaned when you backed a hip into him the same way you would have if he had been standing next to you.
“Looks like you’re the one throwing me a bone, Syverson,” you teased when you felt his cock push against your ass. It was a horrible joke; Walter laughed, Sy did not – possibly because he was the one on the receiving end of your mockery. Instead, you heard a low, arrogant chuckle in your ear, that told you exactly how he wasn’t going to give you the upper hand.
“I ain’t throwin’ you nothin’, sugar,” he growled, putting a hand on your hip, gripping you tight. “I’m gonna make you fuckin’ beg for it.”
“Promises, promises.” Teasing the boys was fun when you were studying, because you very clearly had a head start in that department, and they would get frustrated, and it was very cute. But now, sandwiched between their bodies, gone was your head start. Any advantage you had over them, in any other way, was useless here. The worst part? They fucking knew it. It was as if they grew bigger and you got smaller, and you were loving every second of it.
Suddenly, the hands underneath your sweater grew impatient, tugging the fabric up until there was no point in keeping it on. Rough hands turned you on your back, which left you staring up at both guys while they raked their eyes over your naked upper body. The knowledge that they were far from unaffected by you graced you with a sense of pride that helped keep doubts and shyness away as you reveled in their attention and the appreciative grunts and moans they let out as they looked at you.
“Fuck,” Walter muttered, licking his lips, completely focused on your bare skin. He scooched closer to you, grinding his hips into your side as he did, and turned your face to his to kiss you.
It was as eager as before, this time with Sy descending, pressing his lips to your neck, exceeding every expectation you had created in your fantasy from before; their lips were softer, their tongues wetter, and the way the coarse hair felt on your skin better than anything you could ever imagine. You whined and squirmed as their hands glided over your body, paying plenty of attention to your boobs, their fingers treating the soft flesh in remarkably similar ways. After a while, they switched places; Sy kissed you, Walter explored your body, making you gasp into Sy’s mouth as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking gently on the hardened little bud while his fingers worked the other.
Eventually, he came back up to kiss you, a situation Sy took advantage of by diving straight back between your boobs, this time sliding his hand down your stomach and into your sweatpants – which is when you grabbed his wrist.
“Stop.” Stern and very effective – not that you were about to give the boys any credit for not assaulting you; that sounded like common fucking decency to you, actually. “Before this goes any further; did either of you, with your infinite wisdom and incredible foresight, pack condoms? Because if not…” Before you finished that sentence, both of them sat up and reached for their bag, leaving you there, taken aback by… You didn’t actually know what had you so shocked about this.
Sy made it back to your side first, tucking a handful of condoms beneath his pillow before laying down again. “Oral?” he asked. It was only half the question, but you understood perfectly. You quickly established that everyone was clean, making the short answer to his half-question ‘without’. Sy responded to that agreement by promptly sliding his hand into your pants, not wasting any more time. His fingers slipped between your folds, and he let out a low chuckle.
“For a moment I was worried you didn’t want this as much as we do,” he growled in your ear. “Guess I was wrong.” One quick, skilled swirl of his finger around your swollen clit made you whine – a sound he clearly found very motivational, because his fingers picked up a steady rhythm. You tried to hide your face in Walter’s neck to cover up the sound of your moans, but he caught you and kissed you instead.
Sy somehow found the time to kiss your neck, your jaw, your ear – sinking his teeth into you ever so slightly, stopping just before he hurt you – while he continued what he was doing. His fingers were absolute magic, making you swear under your breath as he effortlessly slipped two of them inside you. Next, he kissed his way down again, not stopping at your breasts, but continuing over your abs, until he reached your sweatpants, pulling them down eagerly without waiting for your permission. Of course, he had it – and you’d had plenty of time to stop him while he was headed there. It’s just that… That was about the very last thing you wanted.
Next to you, Walter kept busy pressing lazy kisses to your neck and jaw, occasionally pulling away to look at you, while he held you and played with your boobs. A few times you tried to move your hand to the bulge in his sweatpants, but he stopped you every time.
“Would you just...”
“Darling, been there, done that. You’ll be useless to me within seconds.” He nodded towards Sy, who was taking a moment to find a decent position between your legs. You raised your eyebrow at Walter, questioning his words, but he didn’t budge. “I’m gonna wait my turn, love.”
“I know this one,” Sy said, running his fingers over the fabric of your thong. You chuckled – he was right; he’d barged into your room one night while you were changing into whatever you were going to wear out to the club, and he’d seen you in your underwear. This underwear. He took his sweet time taking it off, teasing you with kisses on the inside of your thighs, his beard rough against your sensitive skin, until you were almost begging him to keep going. Finally, he pulled your panties down.
“You were right,” he said to Walter, leaving you to wonder what the fuck… “It is her natural hair color.” Oh. You fought the urge to kick Sy – instead, you lightly squeezed your thighs shut around his head. It didn’t seem to bother him. Quite the opposite, in fact.  
The urge disappeared altogether when you – finally – felt his tongue on your pussy. He wasn’t subtle, but damn, he was good. Walter had absolutely had a point; barely ten seconds in and you couldn’t keep your eyes open, let alone focus on anything other than the feeling of Sy’s tongue on your clit. He impatiently spread your legs further while mumbling some very dirty things about how much he wanted to taste you. Involuntarily, you chuckled – causing both guys to stop what they were doing and looking at you in suspicion. Lying was pointless; they knew you well enough by now to effortlessly see through that, and you sighed.
“I… eh…” you stammered, unable to find the words.
“Come on,” Walter said, “if you’ve still got things to hide from us now…” He was right, of course, this wasn’t a position you’d have found yourself in at all if you hadn’t been so comfortable with – and hot for – these guys. Then again, you were already exposed and vulnerable… Why make that worse?
You hid your face in Walter’s neck as you just said what was on your mind without thinking about it: “I always imagined you to be the quiet one and Sy the loud one.”
“Always?” Sy teased you. His usual cocky attitude transferred seemly to the bedroom – or… tent – as it would seem. Except now, for once, you had a decent shot at shutting him the fuck up – although you did have a feeling you were going to like his smug confidence for a change. Sy had been growing out his buzzcut for a few weeks now, which made his hair just about long enough to grab – a fact you used to your advantage when you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his face back to where you wanted it.
“That’s just going to make it harder to answer the question, darling,” Walter muttered next to you while drawing circles around your nipples with impatient fingers.
“Fuck!” you shrieked as Sy’s tongue hit your clit just right – a note he took to heart, because he didn’t leave that spot again, leaving you wishing that all men were that smart. Because why – for the love of God – did they always change their approach as soon as they found a spot you let them know you really liked? Right… The question at hand… “You really thought it was just the two of you dreaming about me?” They had to be smart enough to figure out what you meant on their own, right? The flustered look on Walter’s face told you enough, as did the deep chuckle and gentle bite on the inside of your thigh.
Apparently fed up with your conversation, Sy doubled down on his efforts, eating you out like a man starved, more chuckles escaping him as he watched you pull his pillow over your face in an attempt to keep quiet. ‘Attempt’ because you still failed quite horribly when he pushed two fingers into your pussy and curled them, finding your g-spot without any effort. The orgasm that followed was the kind of toe-curling, earth-shattering, life-changing thing that made you really mad at yourself for one particular reason…
“Jesus fucking Christ, I should have taken you up on your offer when my useless ex broke up with me,” you moaned as Sy made his way up again, pulling in the pillow that you had haphazardly thrown aside – after you were done screaming­, that is – so you could catch your breath. Sy immediately pulled you on top of him, kissing you hard and deep, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. It was something that had always made you feel weird and – if you were being perfectly honest – mildly disgusted when it had been your ex doing it, but there was something about the way Sy had gone down on you, and the way he was kissing you now, something unapologetic, passionate, and enthusiastic, that made you want to kiss him.
In fact, you were just about to commit to the bit when someone – and that someone had to be Walter – grabbed you by your hips and dragged you back until you were on your knees. You tried to lie down again as you heard him rummage around, looking for something – the obvious, really. The smack on your ass made you shriek in surprise, only making you slightly worried that either sound would have been audible well outside the tent.
“Stay there,” Walter’s husky voice commanded. “My turn.” Maybe he was the quiet one, but when he did speak… Oh my! You didn’t dare to move a muscle, leaving you sitting there, exposed as you heard the pretty familiar crinkling of foil. Shortly after, you felt the tip of Walter’s cock glide along the length of your slit. He teased you for a moment before lining himself up and slowly pushing into you. Sy laughed as your eyes went wide, and he grabbed your hand, guiding it to the bulge in his pants. Jackass. As soon as you got a good sense of what he was equipped with, you squealed. Not with any particular emotion in mind, just… Right now, you didn’t know what to think. In fact, Walter was well on his way to at least semi-permanently turning the whole thinking-function of your brain off.
“You alright, love?” Walter asked as he slowly pushed further into you.
“So far so good,” you moaned, “but I hope you’re running out of dick, because I’m running out of places to put it.” Cue roaring laughter from both guys…
“If you ever wonder why we love you,” Sy said, his sentence interrupted by more laughter, “that, right there. That’s why.”
You wanted to respond to that, you really did, but Walter pulling out of you already left you breathless, meaning all you could do was gasp when he slammed back into you. You’d never pictured either of them to be gentle. Concerned for your comfort, sure, but not tender. You’d been right. Luckily, gentle lovemaking was very low on your list of priorities in this particular situation – or ever – which meant you reveled in the brutish attention you got and soon found yourself wanting to beg Walter to fuck you harder.
Sy, as vocal as he’d been before, turned out to also be a champion in impatiently nudging your hand, vaguely suggesting he wanted you to do something, and for a moment it felt like you were about to regain some control of the situation, but no… He was also not above manhandling you into a position where your face hovered over his crotch, and taking his dick out himself once he got really fed up with your stalling. With your eyes wide, you looked at him – something he enjoyed for a moment before tapping the tip of his cock to your lips.
“Don’t make me ask, Sugar,” he growled. As much as you wanted to protest and act out, with Walter fucking the attitude out of you, there was nothing you could do but open your mouth and carefully wrapping your lips around him. The chuckle you let out as Sy grunted appreciatively when you swirled your tongue around his cock was interrupted by your own moan when Walter did… whatever it was that he did to cause it.
Slowly but surely, you made your way further down Sy’s dick, until a particularly violent thrust from Walter threw you off, accidentally forcing Sy deeper than you could handle. Choking and sputtering, you moved away from Sy, only scared for a moment that he’d be disappointed, but he had a different reaction – similar to Walter’s: checking to see if you were okay. Again, you were not in the habit of handing out bonus points for normal behavior, but it was nice, regardless.
“I’m fine,” you said between ragged breaths. “Note to self: deepthroating while getting railed from behind; bad idea.” The guys laughed, and as soon as you’d caught your breath, you joined them.
“There’s one way we all get attention without any risk of choking,” Sy mentioned casually, wiggling an eyebrow suggestively. Yes, you knew what he meant instantly, but… both of them? At the same time? All it took to convince you to at least give it a try was Walter slipping out of you, leaving you empty and nowhere near sated. One of Sy’s sly glances was a question to Walter, who ‘hmmph’-ed. You didn’t like the sound of that, per se, and looked over your shoulder to see what he was on about.
“Definitely depends,” he said, taking your lack of an immediate ‘absolutely the fuck not’-reaction as a sign you were considering it. And he was correct in that interpretation of the situation. “There’s a time and place for first time anal, and this is not it.” That was a sentiment you could absolutely get behind. Luckily, it didn’t matter, because it was hardly applicable. You assured the guys you had plenty of experience in that area.
Another potential spanner in the works that Sy mentioned, was the lack of lube. Somehow, Walter surprised you by mentioning you should have some with you – you did, but how did he know that?
“You use it to keep your hair from going frizzy,” he deadpanned. You looked at him as if you’d seen a ghost, while Sy looked at you as if you’d gone completely nuts.
“What?” you said, turning to Sy again. “It works!” With one hand, you reached for the strap of your backpack, pulling it towards you so you could look for the bottle. It was just under half full, but that should be enough…
Walter wasn’t stingy with the stuff, which was a good thing. There were few things more annoying to you than continuously having to tell a guy to use more lube. One, then two, then three fingers disappeared into you without a hitch, and although the fourth was a nice reminder that you had to relax, that went over without too much trouble as well. Somehow, somewhere in your mind, the fact that Walter seemed to know exactly what he was doing irked you – it was completely hypocritical of you, for obvious reasons, but right now the thought of him with anyone else made you mad.
The boys laughed when you voiced the absurd thought, and Sy didn’t neglect to point out that they hadn’t been too happy about several of the ‘scum’ (yes, really) you’d gotten together with in the time they’d known you. It was a weird thing to be joking about with two of your closest friends while one of them had several fingers stuck up your ass, but at the same time it felt very natural and on-brand for your relationship with the guys.
You whined when Walter pulled his fingers out, making Sy chuckle in a way you didn’t like at all.
“Maybe we should go to sleep,” he suggested with a smug grin on his face that only widened when you told him you were definitely not going to do that. “Why not, sugar?”
Fuck, he was making good on that promise from before. Now, of course, you could convince yourself that begging for cock was beneath you, and you weren’t going to do it, but that would leave you – relatively – unfucked, which was… not desirable, to say the least. Or you could admit to yourself and them how much you wanted both of them inside of you, and have a great time.
Somehow, the red light that no one had bothered to turn off – luckily, as everything you had been doing so far would have been more or less impossible in the dark – already made the tent feel like… a brothel, quite frankly, you put your doubts aside and looked at Sy.
“We’re not going to sleep, because you’re not done fucking me,” you said, giving him your best bedroom eyes. Sy seemed impressed at first, but his eyes flitted to Walter and…
A strong hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you up until your back hit Walter’s chest. His arm reached around, grabbing you by your throat – lightly, almost as if to ask for permission, but demanding.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice dark and gravelly. Down on the air mattress, Sy smirked up at you, making it painfully obvious that you wouldn’t get out of this, no matter how hard you tried. You quickly scanned your brain for all your options, sadly coming up completely empty. No matter which way you sliced it, they were going to come out on top.
“I want you to fuck me,” you snapped, “both of you.” A sarcastic chuckle behind you and Sy shaking his head as he looked up at you told you that that wasn’t good enough. After a deep breath, your voice softened as you spoke again, finally saying the word they wanted to hear: “Please.”
For a long, dull moment all you really heard was the sound of two more condoms being unwrapped, and the top of the bottle of lube clicking. Then, Sy pulled you towards him. As soon as you felt his tip at your entrance, you sat down, fighting the urge to slap him when he threw a smirk and that godforsaken horrible wink your way. Under normal circumstances you considered yourself very well versed in resisting that desire, but today… He laughed when your palm landed lightly on his cheek and thrust up into you for good measure, making you squeal and fall over. Luckily, he caught you just in time.
Just as you wanted to sit up again, Walter put a hand on your back. Right. In that little moment of silliness, you’d almost forgotten what the endgame was, but now that you felt Walter’s cock pushing against your ass…
“Keep talking to us, okay?” Sy whispered softly as he saw your expression change. He cupped your cheek, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. “Breathe.” You took his advice immediately – no doubt a nice change of pace for him, as he was used to your stubbornness at this point – taking a few deep breaths. It wasn’t until the third or fourth one that Walter moved, slowly pushing into you. Keeping your eyes open was absolutely impossible, the sensation of both of them filling you up at the same time too much to even really wrap your head around. “Sugar, you okay?”
“Uhuh.” You nodded, showcasing your current full extent of your ability to answer. When Walter moved, you swore under your breath – when they both moved you hid your face in Sy’s neck and let out a loud moan, followed by an out-of-breath ‘fuck yes’, and that was all the confirmation they needed.
They established a rhythm suspiciously quickly, pumping in and out of you in sync. Yeah. They’d definitely done this before. As you pushed the thought away and focused on the incredible sensations of their cocks moving inside of you, their eager – and mostly greedy – hands on your hips, shoulders, ass, thighs, and tits, you felt a familiar pressure inside of you.
“Don’t stop,” you blurted out – and the boys seemed more than happy to oblige. With one little disclaimer…
“Make it quick, love… Not gonna last,” Walter grunted, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips. It hurt, causing you to swat at his hand, which made him relax his grip a bit. Judging from Sy’s rapid breaths and a concentrated look on his face that gave away just how much difficulty he was having with keeping his rhythm steady, he was getting pretty damn close, too. In fact, pretty much the second their thrusts dragged you over the edge, both of them grit their teeth and gave in to their own pleasure, growling profanities as they came.
The boys were nice enough to handle most of the cleanup for you – which was, given that you were camping, largely a matter of wet wipes, which was definitely not even close to the shower you would have loved to take right about now. And you couldn’t really appreciate Sy’s joke about a lovely, refreshing river near where you were, either.
“Maybe tomorrow,” you yawned, turning around in the middle of the bed, wrapping your sleeping bag tightly around your shoulders. It didn’t take the guys long to join you, and soon you were sandwiched between them again, strong arms wrapped around you – clearly not planning on letting go anytime soon.
Walter pressed his lips to your shoulder and let out a low chuckle. “Still cold, darling?”
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The next morning, you woke up in an empty bed, in a tent that was already slightly warmer than comfortable, with just your sleeping bag on it. The guys had somehow already managed to worm theirs into the tiny little bags they came in, and all without waking you. Then again, it was safe to say that by now they’d proven themselves to be experts in the field of putting pretty big things in relatively tiny places…
For a moment, you wondered if you should feel weird about getting up and going outside, seeing the guys, but something about the whole thing felt so oddly natural that you didn’t give it a second thought.
“Mornin’, sugar,” Sy said as he held out some coffee to you when you joined him on the ground by the fire, where you’d spent the start of last night, as well. The two of you called Walter over, who was just about done putting your tent – the one that had been meant to be yours, anyway – away. He tossed the bag into the bed of the truck as if it weighed nothing – and maybe it indeed didn’t, you wouldn’t know, because you hadn’t touched the entire thing – and made his way over to you, gratefully taking the other cup of coffee Sy had poured.
You knew better than to try striking up a conversation with either of them before they’d finished their morning coffee – it was so bad that whenever you had classes together in the mornings, you showed up there with two double espressos for them and a latte for you, because if you didn’t do that, they’d just grouch and snap at you all the way through the first half of class.
It was all the more surprising, then, when Sy suddenly asked Walter a very unexpected question: “Have you ever kissed a dude?” The answer was no, he hadn’t - to which followed an even more surprising question: “Ever wanted to try it?”
The casual energy of the shrug with which Walter answered that question was absolutely unmatched by anything you had ever seen, and you stared at the guys, wide-eyed as they leaned in until their lips touched. It wasn’t just a quick peck, either! No, there was tongue involved in this… And by the end of it?
“Eh,” Walter said, “not for me.” Sy agreed.
“I’m sorry,” you said, completely taken aback by the unexpectedness of what had just happened. “What? You can’t just… Stick your tongue down your friend’s throat and then casually decide… What?”
“Hey,” Sy said, his tone still infuriatingly indifferent, “don’t knock it till you try it.”
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How will the bayverse boys reacting
To their crush teaching them how to paddle board?
She took him and his brothers out camping with her family and she’s teaching and showing them around the campsite and beaches with her family and cousins.
This can be female or Gn I don’t mind’
She / her and if not they / their
Tmnt bayverse! X reader headcanon whatever I don’t mind :) 💕
Family Camping and Paddle Boarding (Fluff) (Crack-ish)
Bayverse!Michelangelo x reader
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A/N: I’ve decided to make this with Mikey🧡 I’ve also decided to focus on the paddle board aspect, with the family as a background thing. With that being said, I’ve never paddle boarded before, so I googled a few things😂 Writers block also decided to hit me, so it is not as long as I wanted it to be (which is also where the “sir” and “lady” thing came from. My banter writing just locked up😭). But I still hope you’ll enjoy🧡
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You take your four turtle friends with you on a camping trip with your extended family, culminating in you and Mikey joking around on a paddle board.
Warnings: Spelling and Mikey thinking he’s funny🧡
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Back when you first met the turtles, you never thought there would be a day where you would bring them with you on a family trip. But here you were, almost ten years later, setting up camp with your four best friends and your extended family. Donnie was busy setting up the big tent for the turtles with your two oldest cousins, Leo and Splinter was talking with your parents and your aunts and uncles, while Raph and Mikey was playing around with your youngest cousins. It was an amazing sight, seeing the guys taking part in such mundane day to day things with your family. Your family had been so kind, and taken your friends and their father in, treating them like yet another part of your big family. There were times where you still couldn’t believe how lucky you were, both to have met these amazing guys, but having such a wonderful and understanding family to call yours.
With the campsite ready, it didn’t take long for your younger cousins to scream about the beach, running to their stuff to find their swimwear. Not too long after, all of you headed towards the secluded beach, ready to enjoy your time in the nice summer sun. You, clad in your favorite bathing suit, walked out into the water with your paddle board under your arm, the paddle in the other, and the strap around your ankle. Standing in the shallow water, you savored the feeling of the cold water around your feet, the fresh air and the warm sun.
“What do you have there, (Y/N)?”, sounded Mikey’s curious voice behind you. You turned to smile at the friendly faced turtle. His orange swim trunks hugged the lower half of the body, showing off the small heart shaped mark on his plastron. You were amused to see his gold chains still hanging around his neck, with his sunglasses hanging over them. His orange bandana was gone, left in his and his brothers’ tent back at the campsite just between the trees.
“A paddle board”, you smiled. Mikey didn’t seem any less curious, asking if it was anything like a surfboard. “Not really. You don’t use it to surf. You use it to paddle along the water”. You held the paddle up. “With a paddle”.
“Can I try?”, he asked, his eyes big in anticipation.
“Sure you can”, you smiled, before bending down to take the strap off your ankle, before bringing it to Mikey’s much larger ankle. Then the two of you went further out into the water until it reached the middle of Mikey’s thigh, letting the board rest on the surface.
“So what do I do?”, Mikey asked, playing with the paddle in his hand, throwing nervous glances in the direction of his brothers, who were still talking with your family on land.
“Well, the first thing you do is obviously to get on the board”, you laughed, holding the board still in front of him. “You crawl onto it, staying on your knees. Then you slowly stand up, standing on one foot at the time. Got it?”
“Is that it?”, Mikey laughed with a self satisfied smile, before he started to crawl onto the board. “A paddle board can’t break a survivor of the hashi!”
“Well, if you say so”, you smiled, removing your hands from the board, right as he began to stand up on his feet. Almost instantaneously, Mikey started wobbling on the board, yelling loudly before falling into the water. Your small cousins who had been watching from the beach started laughing hysterically. You chuckled as Mikey emerged from the water, a sheepish look on his face.
“Okay, maybe it’s harder than it sounds”, he admitted, his lips pouting a bit.
“You don’t say”, you teased, before you brought the board back in front of him. “But I have to admit, you did pretty great for your first time on a paddle board. The hashi has really prepared you” you continued with a mischievous glint in your eyes. Mikey only answered you with a suppressed smile, poking his tongue out at you, before crawling on to the paddle board once again. This time he managed to stand up straight and proud, even after you slowly removed your hands from the board.
“My turn”, you said, before climbing onto the front of the board yourself. Once on the board you sat down, your legs crossed and a bright smile on your face. “Onwards, sir Mikey!”, you exclaimed, pointing straight out towards you.
“As you wish, lady (Y/N)”, Mikey laughed, before he started to push the board forward through the water with the long paddle.
You and Mikey continued paddling up and down the waters of the beach, enjoying the sun above you. But Mikey, being his mischievous self, could not resist poking you with the paddle, as he moved it from one side of the board to another, letting out a loud “ups”, as if he didn’t mean to do it. You turned to him with a playful warning.
“Do that one more time, sir Mikey, and I’ll have your head!”
Mikey let out a dramatic gasp, a hand on his chest. “You wouldn’t!”
“I would!”, you said, playing up the drama even further, before turning back towards the direction you were floating. “A lady always keeps her word!”
“In that case”, Mikey chuckled, ready to test if your words were true, poking you with the paddle once more. And true to your words you were, jumping onto Mikey like a feral animal. Mikey started screaming loudly as he lost his balance on the paddle board, sending both of you plunging into the water with your arms around each other, causing everyone on the beach to stare.
“Way to go, Mikester! Get the girl wet!”, Raph yelled, earning a slap and a hiss from Leo.
“Not while her family is listening!”, the oldest turtle hissed, gesturing to your extended family.
“Don’t worry”, your mother laughed, watching as you and Mikey emerged laughing from the water, still hugging each other. “All of us are waiting for those two to get together”.
“You’re not the only ones that know of their little crush on one another”, your father said, pulling his hat further down his eyes, in order to block out the sun.
“Little!”, Donnie exclaimed. “Those two are practically in love”.
“Oh, we know”, your brother sighed as you and Mikey started splashing water onto one another. “We know”.
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blocksgame · 5 months
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a little purgatory q!fitpac for you
(/rp) (set during yesterday 11/7 when they had the mutual assinations missions)
They set a time and place. It’s near mid, which ups the risk, but - you know, call him crazy, Fit doesn’t feel the need to bother telling Forever where he's going or what he’s doing.
Squinting, he sees a little figure in the distance jump off a cliff. It catches itself with a glider at the last second, smoothly. It gets close enough to become distinct. Like a kid, Fit smiles. Right on time.
“Hi Fit!” Pac waves.
“Pac!” Fit shouts, and walks toward him.
Pac sprints.
They both slow when they get within placing distance. Pac looks like shit. He’s busted up. He doesn’t normally take the hoodie off, but he has now in the desert heat. His undershirt is torn and his strong arms are cut up. He looks miserable.
Fit looks hot. He’s also cut up and his clothes are torn up to catch sweat and for bandages, but that’s what they were always for. Waiting.
“Fit! I’m so happy to see you. Are you gonna kill me?” Pac asks.
Not unless – are you going to – other things Fit might say die on his tongue. He shakes his head. “No,” he says, firmly.
“Oh, okay.” Pac gets a little closer. “That’s good.”
“Pac, how are you?”
“Oh, well, pretty bad,” says Pac. “Um, a crocodile nearly ate me getting here, and, I don’t – I’ve died like ten times today – and – I don’t know, Fit, it’s a nightmare!”
At last, they reach out to each other and hug rather desperately. Fit braces himself because expects the touch to be a lot, back in his old ways as he’s been, but really it’s only been three days and hugging Pac is kind of like riding a bicycle. Pac squeezes him hard and Fit squeezes him just the same, for a while.
“How – how are you?” Pac asks, against his neck.
“I’m okay,” Fit reassures him. “I’m okay. ...This is kind of like what I’m used to, you know? Not trusting anyone and hidden bases and finding resources and – it’s kind of fun? It’s not, like, fun fun, but…”
“That’s good,” says Pac. “I’m glad. I kept thinking, this is the kind of thing Fit would like – but I didn’t know if, if you would, or if…”
Fit huffs a laugh. “I mean, it’s not summer camp. But, but it’s got its charms. To me, at least. Maybe not to anyone else.” If you’re as much of an asshole as Fit, of course.
Pac nods. “Oh, I’m really glad. It makes sense. I mean, you only died once that I saw, right?” They pull apart.
“Yeah. Fucking tiger.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be, don’t be. I’m sorry you’ve been – well, you know. Having it rough.”
“Hah...”
Pac’s hair is unruly and falling in his eyes. A known terror of the wastelands, a man who leaves no survivors, pushes it out of the way. “Is Tubbo taking care of you?” he asks, as gentle as he knows how.
Wide-eyed, Pac nods.
“That’s good.” Not that Pac needs it. Fit knows better, except that Pac doesn’t know better and right now it looks like he really does need it.
He’d vaguely considered proposing that they trap Red’s portal, or some other kind of mischief, for fun, but – They just sit together, under an acacia tree, leaned together. Pac shifts and shuts his eyes and breathes it in. Fit puts his arm around his shoulder. In lieu of a hand to hold, Pac rests his hand on Fit’s knee.
Fit manages to give them both ten minutes. Eventually his danger-sense gets too high. Just about sitting in the open like this, what’s he thinking? Maybe they could stay together for longer if they worked on tasks, but that’s always riskier. If someone gets the jump on one of them, Fit will have to decide what to do. Being here is even more fun than Fit let on. He just didn’t want to sound like a demon in front of Pac. But when he imagines someone else rolling up on them, coming up to mid, he’s not even trying to do the math - he doesn’t want to be in a position to pick more battles. Is that cowardice? Is it protectiveness?
“I should really get back to grinding,” he says.
Pac just nods. He has work too. Now he knows that Fit is alive and well, as well as possible, and cares about him. He misses Mike. He misses their old life and when they had more and when being bad at things hurt less. “Me too,” he says. He has to keep going. “Should we kill each other for the quest?”
The terror of the wastelands shuts his eyes. “Let’s not.”
“Okay.”
And they both walk away.
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hannahssimblr · 22 days
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The low, blue light from the tanks is relaxing, meditative, even, and though the aquarium is loud with the sounds of small children rushing about and pointing out fish to one another, it’s still peaceful. Maybe it’s womb-like, I don’t know.
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We stare at the turtles for ages and laugh about the description plaque, stating that all of these turtles were donated by families who no longer wanted them as pets when the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle craze passed. 
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“They’re a bit like me,” Jen says, “my parents kinda donated me to Michelle’s family when the novelty wore off.”
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I don't know if she wants me to laugh, but I don't think it's funny. The smile slips off my face and suddenly these turtles are tragic figures, metaphors for the cruel, shallow nature of humanity. We just toss living creatures aside and flush them down toilets as soon as they are no longer trendy. Usually Jen would be impressed that I had such a liberal thought without first seeing it somewhere on the internet and adopting it as my own opinion, but I can sense it’s not really the right time to start a discussion about consumerism, or whatever. 
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“I’m sorry about your mam today,” I say, “I would have expected she’d at least have the decency to say hello.”
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Jen pauses for a long moment. I let the silence go on, and am beginning to think she won’t answer at all when she says, “I don’t know what I expected, to be honest.”
“It’s probably normal to expect your own mother to acknowledge you in public.”
“I just wonder if she’s missed me at all in the last two years.”
I don’t know what to say, “...I’m sure she has.”
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“I doubt it, to be honest,” She stares dejectedly into the tank, “She’s had a lot of chances to reach out and make up, I just feel like she won’t do it if she hasn’t done it by now. I think that part of me thought she’d care more, I suppose, but then again I’m not really surprised that she doesn’t. She only had kids because people would have thought it was weird if she didn't.”
“Yeah but if she didn't then I wouldn't have a best friend.”
“You'd be best friends with some other loser if I didn’t exist.”
“Well, I'm glad it's you, is all.”
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“I just think it’s a pity when… when love is supposed to be, like, unconditional, but it isn’t. You’re meant to love your kids no matter what, so I just think that if you’re going to give up on them as soon as they do, or… or are something that you don’t approve of then why would you have them?”
“I don’t think it’s that simple.”
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“Ugh,” she shoves me lightly and turns to sit on a nearby bench facing another tank of fish, “Obviously I know, I was just saying.”
I join her, “I know, I feel the same way about my parents, sort of.”
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“Well, I mean, it’s different too, isn’t it? Because Chris and Colette actually do love you.”
I hesitate, “I think they love what I do for them and all, how convenient it is for me to be around and helping with things at home, but I don't know if that's proper love.”
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“That’s probably not everything you are to them, like, yeah, you help your mom out with the parenting thing when your dad refuses to be involved with it and that’s hard, but I don’t think they’d ever kick you out of the house and try to forget you were ever born. They brought you with them, didn’t they? When they moved to Ireland, and they didn't have to do that.”
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I wish they didn’t. Sometimes I wish they’d just abandoned me at aunt Maureen’s house and let me grow up like the normal American kid I was on track to be, doing normal American kid things like blissfully finger painting awful, shit butterfly pictures in elementary school and going to summer camps with campfires and raft building activities.
Memories of the desert are lit up in technicolour for me now, so clear that I swear I can still taste the air. It was drier, sweeter than the air here. It smelled different too, carrying some indescribable scent that only snapped back into my consciousness when I visited again two years ago and I've had a hard time not yearning for it since. Everything was beautiful. At the house that I used to call my home I would carry my breakfast out to the terrace, hopping on flagstone scorching already from the sun, and just look at the distant mountains, jagged blue, for ages, while the Rio Grande shimmered like a mirage in the dust land below.
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It's because of Ivy that we left, though I still don’t know why my parents thought that bringing another child into the world, on purpose this time, would somehow fix all of the tears in the fabric of their marriage. And what about me? What kind of real, genuine good was lifting me out of the place that was making me so happy? But I know it's too late to waste time wondering, and if I ask them they'll just repeat what they've always said about how raising children would be better in Europe, as if they would even know.
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“Yeah,” I say to Jen, “I guess that proves they love me.”
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“I know what your problem is,” she says, and I’m curious enough about hearing it summed up that I look at her, the tanks throwing moving shapes and colours across her face, “You’ve just forgotten how to talk to them, like, how to really talk about how you feel, and they’ve forgotten how to do the same with you.”
“Hm.”
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“You and I are good at talking, I think. We can talk about anything, even really hard things, even when we get upset about it, so I know you have it in you to do the same with your parents, you just won’t. You’re just too awkward now because you’re used to the way that it is, but I think if you just tried to change your habits then you’d probably find that they’d do the same with you.”
I nod. I don’t really know what she’s saying, but it sounds wise in that oh-so-very Jen way. 
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“Maybe your parents want to be close to you too,” she continues, “you really don’t know. Maybe they’re just scared that you’ll push them away, and I know you’re scared of the same thing so you’re all just walking around on eggshells trying very hard not to get hurt.”
“Do you think so?”
“Well, they could have just not had you, but they did. They got married because of you, and they wanted to bring you here with them. They still take you on holidays and buy you school supplies and nice clothes and fancy gifts, and even though you are the worst behaved boy of all time you don't get punished half as harshly as you should. Mine learned I was gay and changed the bloody locks,” she sighs, “You’re a lucky boy, actually, like it or not.”
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It's always hard to talk about her parents, not just because they were awful, but the casual way that Jen speaks of the event, like she's just repeating some bland school gossip she heard in the locker room. I know it hurts her. It must. The destruction they have done to her is immeasurable, and Jen has become so good at covering it all up, but I know her better than anybody. She’s vulnerable, sensitive and easily hurt, and even when her face doesn’t show it her eyes do. She knows I can tell, which is probably why she refuses to look at me for several moments and turns her face towards the shark tank to her left. 
As for my parents, maybe she’s right, maybe I don’t know how good I really have it, and if I tried to talk to them more I’d be pleasantly surprised by the things they have to say. There are worse parents than mine, evidently. 
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We don’t speak again. I just sit close to her in silence while we watch the fish swim and weave between the rising bubbles in their tanks, fluid, free, mindless, until it is time to catch the DART home again. 
Beginning // Prev // Next
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aechii · 1 year
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₍⁠₍ RiPTiDE ₎⁠₎
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cue ! riptide ~ vance joy (i love this song so much)
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jude stares. he doesn't know how long for, or if he blinks, or if he takes any breaths at all. just gazes. he likes to think that if his eyes trace the contortions, the peaks and troughs of a face that seems to tug at the seams of his heart, it will remain branded into the backs of his eyes. and every time he would blink, the vanishing afterimage would be painted upon the black of darkness.
yet, right here, right now, he'd rather revel in the real thing.
"i can feel you staring at me, jude."
the person pauses. doesn't turn her gaze to the flustered boy beside them, but instead, smiles.
"is there something on my face?" asks, but already knows the answer. thinks that she would rather spare him the embarassment, however.
"no..." jude says, leaves an empty space in enunciation as if there's more to be said.
finally graces the boy with a full view of their face, and jude doesn't find it humane how hard he feels his heart jump in his chest. it leaves him feeling light headed and he has to take in a breath.
the girl's face shifts into one of confusion, and she cocks her head, "you good, j?"
jude just nods, and receives a smile in response, before she turns her head away again. he has to hold himself back from blurting out a plea for her to stay facing him.
"if you say so."
nothing else is said as the quietude is filled with the vast body of water slamming itself upon the mass of rocks. the sun dissolves into the sea ahead, swirling reds and purples into a fluid that ripples upon the shore.
a breeze passes, tickles the cheeks of both of them, and it compels a sigh out of jude.
just one more day, he begs. just one more.
"i'll miss you alot, you know."
they're words that reel jude back, and the force is such to be reckoned with. he can't defeat the surprise that begins to absorb into his features, but the girl beside him doesn't notice.
"you will?"
she giggles, eyes creasing, "why wouldn't i? you've made this the best summer i've ever had."
if jude could cry, he absolutely would. he feels his head spin with immense speed, and his fingers buzz with elation.
"really?"
"jude," she spurts out an airy chuckle, "you love to ask questions, don't you?"
"i just want to be sure it's all real, [y/n]."
a hand of hers reaches for his, clasping, almost phantomly, over his skin. he immediately feels the heat siphon into him and it's instantaneous, the way his skin hums to life.
"it's as real as it will ever get."
"you think so?"
[y/n] laughs, "what did i just say, j?"
"just making sure."
the girl shakes her head, before slouching to rest her head upon jude's shoulder. his muscles turn rigid, and [y/n] undeniably feels it.
"loosen up, j," brings a hand up to gently squeeze his arm, "that's the whole purpose of summer camp."
jude smiles down at her, "trust me, i'm completely relaxed. more than i've ever been, to be fair."
"i'm glad... very glad."
jude curls an arm around her shoulder, internally comemorating himself for doing so. the girl snuggles in deeper into his embrace, shutting her eyes in gentle bliss.
"you'll keep in touch, right? come back next year too?" the girl sounds hopeful, and, as the tide swarms in again, jude thinks it wouldn't hurt to do this all over again in 12 months. 365 days.
however long as it may seem, jude would endure it, if it meant seeing [y/n] again.
"i will, just for you, yeah?"
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eskawrites · 2 months
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the other day i caved and made a document folder that just says 'lowkey an untitled fantasy trilogy' and iykyk so uh have some third movie tenlark if the third movie took place in winter instead of spring/summer like it actually does in the fic
-
The fire was getting low, but there was just enough snow on the ground to make the quickly falling night a little lighter. Light enough to see a small figure out in the shadows, huddled in on herself as she stared through the trees.
Lark sighed and pushed to her feet. Moss tilted her head up to follow the movement, watching her silently. Lark nodded toward Arren, still fast asleep beneath the blankets.
“Keep an eye on things, yeah?”
Moss nodded. Simple as that, because of course it was. Lark didn’t even have to ask, really. She walked out of the tent, past the fire and out of its weakening light, into the silvery shadows of the increasingly snowy forest.
“Hey,” she said, quietly, not wanting to spook Tenar with her approach. But Tenar didn’t flinch, or look her way, or even tilt her head to show that she had heard her at all. Lark bit her lip, then stepped closer. “It’s, uh, it’s getting colder. You should come back. I’m about to throw another log on, cook us some dinner.”
Tenar said nothing. The snow lingered in her hair, down and messy across her shoulders in a way Lark had never seen before. The chill left bumps on her skin, her arms bare in her ruined dress. Lark sighed.
“Look, Arren isn’t awake to be anxious about your well-being, so I feel it’s my duty to be a bother in his stead. Come back to the fire. Drink some of the tea Ged made. You don’t even have to talk to us, just come get warm.”
“No.” Tenar’s voice was cold. Not harsh, just cold. Like the dark, dead silhouettes of the trees around them. Like the hard, frozen stones half-buried beneath the fallen snow. She tilted her head toward Lark, finally, barely, and there was a stoic, practiced politeness, and no warmth at all, as she added, “Thank you.”
“Your Highness—”
Tenar shook her head, sharp and sudden, harsh and angry and distraught—more reaction than she’s let herself show since Lark brought her back to camp. Lark swallowed hard.
“Tenar,” she tried again, timid, and this time she saw the rigid line of Tenar’s shoulders start to break, to crumple in on itself. “I don’t know what happens next, for any of us. But I know it doesn’t involve you freezing to death out here. Come on. Come eat something, drink something. We can get you out of that dirty old dress—”
“No.” Tenar turned back to her, and Lark realized—her heart jumping up to her throat—that the anger was not gone yet. “And don’t touch me.”
Another realization: her hand was hovering between them, reaching subconsciously toward Tenar. She drew it back hastily.
“I-I’m sorry, Your Highness, I—”
“No,” Tenar said yet again, softer now. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—I’m sorry, Lark. That was completely uncalled for. I should never have lost my temper. I apologize.”
She meant it, as stiff as the words sounded to Lark. It gave her the courage to step forward again. When Tenar didn’t object, she closed the space between them and crouched beside her—still more than an arm’s length away, but close enough that when she looked over, Tenar was really all that she saw.
“I think it’s understandable, losing your temper after all you’ve been through. And you can afford to, with me. Lose your temper, I mean.”
“That doesn’t mean you deserve it,” Tenar said, looking out into the trees again.
“Yes, well, none of us have gotten what we deserve, lately.” Lark followed her gaze, but she found she couldn’t stare out into the forest for long. She turned back to Tenar.
They were quiet for a while. Lark felt vaguely as if she was waiting for something. The cold was starting to get to her, just a little, but she ignored it. She wasn’t particularly packed for winter—the storm had been too sudden, and besides, they were all supposed to be back at the castle by now. But she was better off than Tenar in her ceremonial dresses, now torn to shreds and soaked with snow and mud. And blood, if Lark looked closely enough.
She didn’t mind waiting for Tenar, she realized. In fact, she found it much preferable to the suddenly harrowing idea of leaving her out here.
“It was my mother’s.” Tenar’s voice was smaller now, almost like she didn’t want to be heard.
Lark looked at her, but Tenar, too, seemed to shrink under her gaze—a sight so out of character that Lark felt panic tighten her chest. She kept herself from reaching out, though, and turned her gaze back to the trees. She heard Tenar’s exhale beside her and closed her eyes in relief along with it.
“The dress, I mean,” continued Tenar. “One of the first she'd had made for her after she was made queen. She said she was always fond of it, even after it went out of style. She said it made her feel confident as she sat in the council rooms, even on the days she had no idea what she was doing.”
Lark couldn’t look away anymore. She faced Tenar, but Tenar’s gaze was far away. She was shivering in her tattered, precious dress. Shivering within the memory.
“She gave it to me that morning. She—she told me I didn’t need it, really. That I didn’t need anything to help me in the council meetings, because I—I was already so much better than she could have hoped to be at my age.”
“Tenar,” Lark whispered.
“She told me she was proud—”
Her voice broke, then, and Lark saw the tears as they started to fall down her pale, frozen cheeks. She couldn’t help but reach for her now. Tenar did the same, her hand darting out to grasp at Lark’s as soon as it became available. Her fingers were icy, her grip shaking from the cold and the grief and the desperate strength with which she clung to Lark.
“The dress stays,” Tenar whispered.
Lark nodded quickly. “Of course. If I had known, I never would’ve suggested—”
“I know.”
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mayweneverdie · 2 months
Note
May I request maybe Charles smith and his s/o relaxing after a long day of work, laying together on their bedrolls next to the campfire 🫶
By the Fire
I’m actually so happy with all these requests omg
Cw: possible ooc
Notes: canon time, single space instead of double space to see how it formats
A small sigh of relief escapes Charles lips as he sets the axe against the oak stump in front of him. He spent nearly the entire day doing chores. With everything done, he sauntered over to his things to grab a change of clothes, soap, and a cloth. He draped his clothes over his arm with the soap and cloth in his hand before heading towards a shady and hidden part of the lake to bathe.
Lake water never looked better than right now. He tossed his shirt to the side before kicking his pants off as well. One step and another before his waist is submerged. He took his time, making sure to get all the sweat and grime off his body and out of his hair. Once satisfied, he dunks under the water once to rid himself of the suds before getting out.
A cool breeze runs over his body as he dries himself, causing goosebumps to raise on his arms. Charles quickly dresses himself before heading back to camp, bringing his things with him. Just one more stop before he’s lying with you, which is just putting his soap away and placing his dirty clothes into a basket to be washed tomorrow.
Two hands snake their way around his waist, one hand holding the opposite wrist. Looking over his shoulder, Charles quickly realized it was you. He smiles softly to you before he wraps an arm around your shoulders.
“Fires warm, care to join me?” You ask with an inviting smile, threading your fingers into his damp hair, “I can comb your hair if you’d like.” You add on. Charles nods and kisses your forehead.
“I’d like that.” Charles murmurs into your hair before letting you go to get cozy on his bedroll. You grin with his acceptance and get behind him, kneeling a little so you can really see what you’re doing. The comb starts from the bottom, making sure any knots down there are gone before going up. For how much work he had accomplished, his hair was remarkably detangled.
To keep his hair from getting messy in the morning, you quickly braid it and tie the end up with a ribbon like string. You admire your work for a moment before kissing his cheek and laying in the bedroll next to him. You look up to him for a moment. He looked gorgeous with the fire glowing on his skin. Charles quickly noticed, but said nothing.
“Thank you.” He whispered to you with a soft smile. He takes a moment to admire the braid as well before laying with you. Everything felt so peaceful, nearly perfect. Javier’s guitar playing, crickets chirping, and the sound a breeze going through the summer leaves was all you need to feel your heart slow down. You began to hum with the song once you recognized it as Cielito Lindo. You didn’t quite understand the words, but they were pretty to hear nonetheless.
Noticing how happy you looked, Charles reaches his hand out to rest on your waist. He waits a few moments before pulling you near him. You had no qualms at all, you rather liked it. Eyes still closed, you get in closer to sleep in his hold. He quickly notices and kisses the top of your head before closing his eyes as well.
It was quite unusual for him to be so affectionate, but you didn’t mind one bit. His newfound affection lulled you right to sleep knowing nothing was wrong.
I was in the middle of writing this and a certain someone liked my post and MADE ME LOSE ALL PROGRESS!! So i had to restart 😭. Also i just remembered i have to write for onward to canada, please give idea on what to write in next part pls n thx 🙏 also do yall prefer the single or double space between paragraphs?
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sickandtwisted01 · 3 months
Text
Soap X AFAB!Reader
Warnings for creepy, perverted, gross Johnny with this little series I’m planning. For this stater piece specifically it’s like Heavy dubcon themes, kidnapping, threats of murder or bodily harm. Yeah, this one is a lot. What you see if what you get, you are responsible for yourself from here on.
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When was the last time your family went fucking camping?
Your father had brought it up two months ago, in a short conversation with your mother at the mention of a family vacation. Something about the idea of going somewhere nice like the places you usually went sounded unappealing to him. Of course he’d pick the last family vacation you’d be joining before moving out to do something incredibly boring.
“We could always go camping.” He’d told your mother, leaning over the kitchen island with his hands clasped together. She’d immediately sent a disapproving glare towards him, which earned a chuckle from him. “Oh, lovie, it won’t be so bad.” He’d assured her. “A little fresh air could do us all some good, don’t you think? I’ll keep us safe, swear it.”
She’d relented once your father had dressed it up as an ‘electronic free, roughing it, fresh air, all family’ trip. You understood– how could you not? The man had spent every day of his life glued to the surface of his phone due to work, and your mother jumped at the opportunity to spend real time as a family together.
That was how you ended up here, you supposed, sitting around a firepit with your lovely family. Your mother, father and two younger siblings, Jovan and Serea. Your eyes stared blankly at the flames that danced around the firepit, licking against each other in the same way waves crashed against the shore. The air was beginning to thin and cool from the borderline unbreathable mugginess of the scorching summer sun which was setting oh-so slowly above you. Your eyes shifted up towards the sky, watching as it darkened from it’s normal brilliant blue to a darker purple with swirls of reds and pinks. Crickets chirped out song notes with each flick of their legs as the veil of darkness began to surround the forest. The sounds of an owl cooing sweetly in the background, calling out as a warning or… maybe just a sign of its presence. The declaration that it was real and alive into the void of darkness.
Jovan held a stick, watching as the marshmallow he was roasting completely caught fire. His eyes light up at the action, pulling it from the flames to blow at the remnants. “Near perfect.” He announced happily, pride enveloping the edges of his sentence.
“That’s disgusting, Jo-jo.” Sera chimed in, watching with a soured look as Jovan reached out with two fingers to pull the treat from his skewer, pulling the ooze into his mouth with a grin before turning his head to stick his tongue out at the girl. “Mom!”
“Leave your sister alone.” Your mother spoke simply, easily. She was hardly paying attention, sitting across the fire with a crossword puzzle and pen in her hand. Your father sat at her side, quietly chattering about the answers at her side.
You huffed, looking away as you tried to tune out the bickering of your siblings at your side. You thought about the days earlier activities– the lake your family had spent nearly an hour hiking to. It was fine, for the most part. The walk was long, spent swatting away bugs that landed on your arms. You could still feel the itchy welts that littered your upper arms from their bites, your mother would probably snap at you for itching for about the next week. Listening to the never-ending bickering between your siblings about things that didn’t even matter. The comments from your father about ‘how beautiful nature is’ and how ‘we should all try and make an effort to reconnect with the earth’ bullshit. Your mother agrees nonchalantly, as if she doesn’t really care that much.
That wasn’t really anything of note but– the more you thought of it, you couldn’t shake the feeling of having someone’s eyes watching you. Following your every movement- you swore you could feel someone hot on your heels the entire walk to the lake. You kept looking around, searching aimlessly for something that wasn’t even there. Your father had mentioned how paranoia was sometimes common for people who didn’t go out into the woods that often. Something about… how it’s all so new, and you’re not really used to having silent predators around while knowing there could at any moment be something dangerous, stories of boogeymen who roamed the woods, campfire tales that were told to you when you were young. Those fears can still linger as an adult. Your bodies natural reaction, or something. He said it’d go away after a day or two… so you shrugged that feeling off. Chalked it up to, yes, paranoia. You had an entire week of this trip. You couldn’t give in to these weird, stupid feelings that were brewing.
Your head turned, eyes shifting the terrain surrounding your small camp. Trees, miles and miles of trees. Only a few in every direction lit up with the gentle glow of the fire's warmth. The rest disappeared slowly, being engulfed into the rest of what you could see. Nothing.
That hadn’t really creeped you out until now, eyes trained on the darkness of the trees that you could just barely see. That feeling was back, like you were being watched. You huffed, head turning away from the woods quickly. You stood, looking between your siblings and then your parents. “I’m going to go to sleep.” You told them all simply before making your way towards your tent and climbing in.
You spent the entire night laying on your back in silence, staring up at the ceiling of your tent. You couldn’t shake it, that feeling. It was beginning to suffocate you, shove it’s way down your throat and into your head. You couldn’t ignore it, and thus you couldn’t sleep. Your parents had oh-so lovingly forced you and your siblings to leave your phones at home but allowed you to bring your nintendo switch if you’d only play it at night. How kind of them, was the thought that flashed through your brain when they first mentioned it, having to suppress an eyeroll and a scoff. As if they were being generous by allowing it when they were shutting your phone off for the duration of the trip so even if you did have it, it wouldn’t work… which.. If it would’ve regardless was a gamble in and of itself. You were playing an older version of a mario game when you heard it. The snapping of a branch, your ears instantly perked up, entire body stiffening as you paused your game.
It was the wee hours of the morning, you knew for a near fact that your family were all asleep. Though their tents laid a decent ways away from yours, they were all early to sleep, early to rise. You were different, though. You spent many nights awake while they slept peacefully. Now though, you clung desperately to the possibility that Serea had awoken from a nightmare and thought to wake you instead of your parents or… or maybe it was Jovan, right? Stumbling around in the dark to find a flashlight so he could wonder off into the woods to pee or something. Yeah, that made sense. That made sense. It could all be chalked up to something that made sense, something that wasn’t sinister. It totally had nothing to do with that feeling that had been itching at you all day like some sort of fucking disease, even though your entire body was on fire. Every nerve ending was lit up, your mind begged you to move or do anything other than just sit here. You could hardly breathe as you heard the clomping of steady, heavy footed-steps. Your brows furrowed, breath hitching as you tried desperately to bite back the panic that suddenly urged through you.
It was just Serea. You tried to think, fingers gripping at the edges of your sleeping back until your knuckles turned white. You could hear shuffling, the crunching of leaves under shoes, sniffling. Deep, heavy inhales coming closer. Closer. Closer. Your eyes shifted quickly, towards the front of your tent.
It was just Serea. You gulped thickly, stomach churning harshly as you watched in wide-eyed horror as the zipper of your tent slowly began to unzip. Your throat nearly closed, entire body launching up as a hand came into view, pulling back one flap of your tent. The backs were masculine, strong with thick fingers, veins and tendons on the fronts of the palm. A shadowy figure was illuminated in the dim light of your switch's screen. All those stories came flashing in your mind. The Boogeyman, The Jersey Devil, Bigfoot, or something worse than a made-up tale meant to scare the shit out of children in the woods.
The rather large, looming figure leaned into your tent. His gaze was fixated on you, a grin spread across his features as he watched you. You swore you saw sharp teeth glint, but you couldn’t really be sure. You couldn’t really make out any features, but you could feel his eyes searing into yours. “Ye scream and I’ll gut yer family while ye watch.” He coos, it’s sweet and gentle as he enters further.
You’re terrified, shock thundering across your features as you watch him. You’re quick to shuffle your way away from him– but you don’t scream.
Smart little thing.
He grins, head tilting. He hasn’t heard you breathe since he came into view. Maybe you’ll pass out and it’ll make this entire ordeal easier. “Nod if ye understand, bonnie…”
You nod quickly, back flush against the side of your tent. You gulp thickly again, finally taking a breath. You don’t speak though– what could he expect, though, really? He’s only just first introduced himself. Of course you’d be a little bit nervous.
“Shy wee thing, hm?” He purrs as he attempts to shuffle closer. You flinch away and he raises his hands in defense. “Oh, now…” He breathes, “No need for that, sweet. I’m not going to hurt ye. If ye want a reason to be scared, I can give ye one but until then, let’s save the dramatics for another time, hm?” His tone is still in that slightly condescending tone, talking with the sweetness you’d use when talking to a child.
Your gaze shifts to his quickly, “What do you want?” It’s rough and angry but shaky around the edges. You sound so cute, trying to be intimidating.
The man shakes his head, “Nothing yet, bonnie. Just wanted to see yer pretty little face up close.” He’s sitting back on his knees, hands placed in his lap. He lifts his right palm, slow and easy. His movements are fluid as he reaches out, touch lingering before your face.
You glare at him, brows furrowed and breathing quickened. You all but recoil as his fingers brush against your forehead, smoothing back a few loose strands that had fallen out of place. “Even prettier up close…” He speaks while petting at your hair, but you’re honestly not sure if it’s meant to be directed at you or if he’s just making a statement. You realize now that the feeling you felt earlier was not paranoia… it was a warning.
“Are you going to kill me?” You whispered softly, again… trying so hard to sound strong. Trying not to cower as his fingers brush through your hair, the pads of his digits teasing against the side of your neck. Your body tenses with each touch, shoulders stiffening and breath hitching in your throat.
He shakes his head slowly, “Oh, now… I’ve only j’st found ye, sweet… I couldn’t kill ye, yet. No.” He assured, but sucked in a gentle breath. “Now… I can’t say the same for yer family, bonnie…” There’s a silence, a pause as his eyes shift towards you. “Be a shame if ye didn’t listen and something happened to them, wouldn’t it?”
Your lips purse, eyes slowly drifting towards the man before you. “... I’ll listen.” You squeaked out, breathing out shakily. “I’ll listen, just don’t do anything to them.”
He nods, “Perfect… we should get going then, sun’ll be up in a few hours and gods know we wanna make it home before then, hm?” He pulls off a backpack you didn’t even realize he was wearing, watching as he begins pulling out a few things.
You frown, “What are you doing?” you spoke up, watching with furrowed brows as he lays out a rope, a blindfold, and a gag.
“Oh, these are just precaution. M’sorry, sweet. Just need to make sure ye won’t try and run away on me. S’all. Give me your arms.” He hums, holding his hand out expectantly. You stare back blankly, blinking a few times as you watch him. Your eyes shift between his face and his hand, an almost bewildered look on your face. “Bonnie. We don’t have a lot of time– I know this is a lot but–”
“You want to tie me up?” You almost sound offended.
He huffs, grabbing your wrist and roughly yanking you closer. “Yer really testing me patience, huh, Bonnie?” He snarls as he begins wrapping the rope around both wrists. You struggle against his hold immediately, which only brings annoyance simmering in his stomach “Think m’being real nice, hm? Stop fucking movin–” His voice is cut off as your hand makes a sharp, slapped contact to the side of his face. His entire body stiffens, actions pausing altogether as his gaze snaps towards yours.
You reailze it’s a mistake immediately, “I’m sorry.” You choke out quickly, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry–” You’re basically babbling it at this point, finally allowing the man to do as he pleases. You watched as the ropes were secured around your wrists. His actions are quickened, rougher than before.
“Yeah, you will be.” His hisses back as he shoves the blindfold over your eyes, and the makeshift gag into your mouth. “Lucky I don’t fuckin’ make good and kill everyone here, Bon. Don’t do shite like that again.” He grunts midway through the sentence as he wraps an arm around your waist, hoisting you up and over his shoulder. You hardly yelp, voice muffled by the gag.
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eunoia-writes · 2 years
Text
Frownie face stickers • Conrad fisher
Warnings: Smut (this is my first ever time writing smut so pls bare with also pls leave a comment or anything so Ik If this is any good if really appreciated it) MDI
Summery: y/n and Conrad have a running joke of her giving him well done stickers after they hooked up but for the first time ever she gives him a frownie face stickers
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Conrad hand wrapped around y/n’s neck while her jaw was slacked open the room was filled with nothing but the sound of skin slapping against each other along with both of their moans “gonna…fuck.” She moans hardly able to get her words out
“gonna cum pretty girl?” He said lifting her leg to his shoulder to get a better position. She nodded unable to form any coherent words “oh come on Doll, use your words.” He said never straying away from the relentless pace
“please.” She just about manage to say as his hand left her neck moving to rub circles on her clit with his fingers.
“Cum for me pretty girl.”
before she could warn him, the knot in her stomach unravels, she’s cumming with a strangled moan. before long Conrad rapid movements turn into ragged strokes as he spills inside her, throbbing as he does. She came down from her orgasm and stared up at him through half lidded eyes as he pulled out “such a good girl.” He mumbled as they both laid out of breath for a few minutes.
Conrad grabbed his shirt and underwear making his way into the bathroom before returning with a wet rag to clean her up after she pulled shirt and shorts y/n reached into the draw next to her before turning back to Conrad “What?” He asked looking at the smile on her face
“close your eyes.” She said and he raised his eyebrows but doing as she said anyway he felt her pat his shirt
“okay you can open them now.” She said giggling as he looked down at the small sticker of penguin holding a cake saying “good job.”
“You’re so stupid.” He said laughing along with y/n before taking the sticker off and putting it on the back of his phone
“what can I say… you did a good job.” Y/n said though laughs
“oh yeah a good job?” He asked leaning over her slightly
“I might even go as far as to say a great job.” She laughed as he leaned down kissing her softly “definitely a great job.” Y/n said as he pulled away
“where did you even get them from?” He asked wrapping his arms around her waist
“I got them for kids at summer camp but I completely forgot to take them in so they’ve been collecting dust in the drawer found them earlier when I was looking for my headphone.” She told him Making him laugh once again
“so I’m getting the same reward as your students now huh?” He teased as she nodded
And from then on Conrads sticker collection on the back of his phone only grew more until he thought it was be a wonderful idea to piss y/n off so while he was sat around the pool with Jeremiah and Steven while Belly and Taylor swam y/n stomped her way over to him
“you still mad at me?” He asked and y/n just nodded before leaning down sticking an frownie face sticker on his shirt and stomping back into the house “HEY… take that back!” He yelled after her but she just carried on walking
“What the hells that sticker about?” Steven asked as Jeremiah laughed knowing exactly what had happened due to y/n’s drunken confession the night before the others arrived
“y/n and Conrad have this thing that started out as a joke Everytime they hooked up y/n would give him at sticker saying good job or some bull shit hence the stickers on the back of his phone. And what I’m guessing is either they had shitty sex last night or he’s pissed her off, Am I right Connie?”
“Shush it jere.”
Conrad quickly rushed into the house while the others giggled and Taylor spouted how adorable it was. He found her in this room wearing just his shirt over his favourite bikini of hers it as black with little pink hearts on it “I’m going for a swim.” She said brushing past him but he caught her arm just in time
“Sit.”
Just that one syllable had her like putty in his hands “now you gonna quit pouting?” He asked sternly as she sat on the edge of his bed while he towered over her but y/n was a brat so of course he wasn’t going to get his way. She shook her head looking up at him through her eyelashes
“I’m gonna ask you one more time Doll and I suggest you think about your answer a little more… are you gonna quit pouting?” His hand came to her chin titling her head up to force her to look at him
“No!”
Conrad sighed turning on his heels and closing the door being sure to lock it before walking back over to her “why do you have to make things so difficult?” He asked him a soft humm at the end of his sentence. Y/n had nothing to say she was just trying to push his buttons as he had done hers earlier “what’s wrong doll you’re always so mouthy why not this time?”
She rolled her eyes “because you’re an ass!” She said standing up and cocked his head to the side
“Oh is that so?” Y/n just nodded making her way to the door but Conrad caught her arm pulling her back and smashing his lips into hers. The kiss was desperate. He kissed her like it would be his last. Like it was the only thing keeping him going. Her arms wrapped around his neck and her hands tangled into his hair while his hands were on her waist pulling her impossibly close. She’d hardly noticed that he’d backed her onto the bed behind them.
“You gonna stop being such a brat?” He mumbled into the kiss but she’s couldn’t say a world. She didn’t need to. He already knew his answer.
Conrad’s hands sliding under her shirt she shivered from the coldness suddenly on her skin “can I?” He asked y/n nodded letting him take her shirt off. It made her smile the way he was still so polite. Even after all this time. He still asked like it was the first time. Like he didn’t know she’d let him do whatever he wanted to her.
Conrad re-connected there lips his hands reached down to untie her bikini bottomed as his lips trailed down to her neck she let out a soft wine as he found her sweet spot. “Up.” He mumbled into her neck telling her lift her ass up so he could pull them down and discarding them somewhere in her room before moving to her shirt as he continued sucking marks on her neck.
Y/n grabbed the bottom of his shirt attempting to pull it off only to let out a whine when she couldn’t get it off “take it off.”
Conrad moved away from her neck “say please.” He teased
“please… it’s not fair I’m underneath you in nothing you’re still fully clothed.” She said he laughed before pushing himself up off her before getting rid of any clothes left on him.
“Better?” She nodded before he moved back in between her legs. He left a trail of open mouthed kisses down her chest to right were she needed him the most before pressing a kissed against
“Connie.” She purred his name as he blew hot air over her swollen clit before diving in. his tongue traced her folds before he lapped at her clit. Y/n back arched off the bed, electricity bolting through her nerves. Her hands flew to tug at his hair as he lapped at her clit feverishly so Desperate to taste her. He caught her off guard slipping a digit into her, groaned into her when your legs locked around his head, securing him in place. Not that he needed it. He’d stay here forever if she’d let him.
“Please Connie.” She moaned his fingers pumped in and out of her while his tongue made work on her clit. her thighs tremble and eyes roll back into her head. One hand grip the sheets her knuckles white, while the other tugged at his locks. The pressure in her abdomen built but so does something else, something deeper at the same time. Conrad took note pulling away “you taste just Devine doll but I’m not sure you deserve to cum today.” He said as she whimpered at the loss of contact.
She watched as he stripped himself of his underwear “Darling you’re so pretty it hurts.” He said leaning down it kiss her again “are you sure you wanna?” He asked y/n nodded if she wasn’t so worked up she’d of told him how cute it was that he was still taking care of her “need words Doll.” She groaned growing impatient
“yes I’m sure.” Conrad leaned down to kiss her once more before he lined himself up with her entrance before he sank into her both of them gasping at the feeling.
“fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned. She was appreciative of his slow thrusts her constant wines were evident of that. Conrad brought his hand to her mouth shoving two of his fingers into her mouth
“As much as I love hearing my name from that pretty little mouth or yours you gotta keep quite or everyone is gonna hear.” He said stifling a moan himself she nodded her legs wrapping around his waist pulling him closer as his hips rocked back and forth “Fuck y/n.” He groaned in her ear as she clenched around him. His free hand moving from her mouth and wrapping around her throat squeezing slightly as his hips moved faster
“Fuck Connie… I’m close.” She managed biting her lips to stop herself from screaming out “You're close, huh Doll? You gonna cum all over my cock like the good girl you are?" Each one of his words brings her closer and closer to the edge, and all it takes is his thumb massaging against her clit to push her over. Everything goes tight. She cry out a high-pitched moan, whispering Conrad’s name over and over because it's the only word She can manage to say. She clench hard around his cock, but his pace never slows which makes the pleasure almost painful. Her thighs are trembling where they're wrapped around his torso and her hands curl into the sheets.
“God you look so pretty like that.” His thrusts start to grow uneven and His breaths become sharp as he snaps his hips against hers until finally he releases a strained moan from low in his throat and stills inside her, spilling his cum into her. His head drops to the crook of her neck momentarily pressing light kisses over the marks he’d previously left. He pulled out of her rolling onto his back next to her.
“Maybe I need to piss you off more.”
———
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edensbuttercups · 1 year
Text
Summers and letters - Robert "Bob" Floyd x reader
after the Coffee shop AU (x), time for a Scout AU
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Summary: Every summer, you spend one moth at summer camp, teaching kids and teenagers along side a group that you've grown to love. And that's were Bob teaches too, planning games and activities for yet another year, except this year might be the last, having sent all of his details to try to get into the Navy. So what happens when he does leave for the Navy, leaving both you and the kids missing him, as well as your crush for him not yet revealed?
A/N: This has been in the works for months, and I just couldn't find the motivation to finish it, but gladly, I finally did! Planning on writing a part two from Bob's point of view, at least from when he leaves, when he receives the letters, how things go from there. I hope this ends up being a good read, let me know if a part 2 sounds interesting enough! ♡
Words: 4.5k
As always, requests are open and comments are very much appreciated! Thank you for reading and hope you're all having a good day ♡
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Every summer, you set aside a whole month for the scout’s camp, a whole month spent with kids and teenagers, depending on the week, and a whole month with your fellow teachers and friends. You had been seeing them every summer for at least four years at this point, the real world getting shut out each time you crossed the makeshift entrance to the camp, nothing but three trunks nailed to each other, strong enough to hold onto each other during the worst of storms. The weeks were organized in the best of ways, groups divided by age and somewhat easy to deal with, ending each camp with a song by the fire, a good amount of badges earned and a whole lot of fun memories to take home. 
And after dark, when the kids were in bed, you got to hang out with everyone by the fire, just like you had with the kids, yet with different conversations, deeper, funnier, getting to know each other better, with the lack of contact, usually, between one summer and the other. There was one of your fellow colleagues that you kept contact with, Sarah, just one year older than you and living on your same street, and a colleague that you wished to have more contact with, but never found the courage to: Robert. He had everyone call him Bob, and you couldn’t help but smile every time he came over to you, talking excitedly about the activities planned, or some of his passions, adventures on the ranch, dreams. You remembered one of the first nights on camp this year, when the two of you had found a spot by the campfire, on lookout for any kids ignoring lights out or that rather preferred wandering in the dark, talking to each other to make the time pass, keeping each other company while you waited for the next people to take over. 
“I remember my first time on a horse. I wasn’t really a fan of the idea, but my dad had insisted, so I climbed on and tried my best for a solid ten seconds, before deciding to give up. Ended up with my foot stuck on the saddle. Rode for 50 meters upside down and crying.” He told you, his cheeks blushed from the slight embarrassment he still felt when talking about it, but it was all worth it when you laughed, your hand reaching for his shoulder as you wiped a tear from your eye. “Were you okay?” You asked, eyes sparkling from the laughter you had just graced him with, finding the image of a seven year old Bob hanging from a horse a little too funny. “Oh, yeah, just annoyed.” He said, laughing once more and shaking his head, “I tried again the next day, actually thinking about my movements before jolting down a moving animal, and eventually I came to love it. I was just grumpy that day and that did not help.” You smiled at his words, his way of being, the comforting sight of him in front of you, sitting cross legged in front of each other as the nearby campfire warmed you. “What’s your plan with the ranch?” You asked, shifting a little closer, just to feel his knees bump against yours, his hand reaching over to grab your hands, holding them between his when he saw you shiver, a comforting habit he had grown into after knowing you for a little over two years now. “I’m not sure. I always thought I’d stay. Help my family, keep on what has been going for years, but… I don’t know, recently I’ve been wondering if maybe leaving would-” he shook his head, frustrated that he couldn’t find the right words, “I’m afraid that staying here will make me miss something that maybe I’m supposed to find.” You nodded, blushing at how his hands were cradling yours, thumb gently caressing your skin as he talked, understanding his words but getting lost in his touch. “An adventure you’ll miss if you stay here?” you offered with a smile, having felt the same thing as him. This town was great for many things, but it was its own world. You loved summer camp, creating a separate reality from the rest of the world for a good month, but when you got back home you did wonder what you were missing, if all those things you saw on tv were things you were supposed to truly live, rather than simply dream of. He looked at you, his eyes scanning your own, nodding slightly. Squeezing your hands softly before letting them go he cleared his throat, looking ahead at someone, your mind soon catching up and standing up, knowing that it was time to give up your lookout position and head to bed. He whispered a goodnight as you reached your cabin, waving timidly before climbing the steps to his own, leaving you with a smile on your lips at his first story, and some aching in your chest at his uncertainty, one that matched your own. 
“Bob! Next year maybe we can try the other trail? I heard there’s caves and stuff!” the kid excitedly said, her hands gripping tightly to her own pants, trying to contain her movements. “I… yeah. If I’m here, sure!” He muttered, hands reaching for hers, helping her move down from the log she had climbed onto, the way back to camp seemingly not fun unless she went over any obstacle she laid eyes on. You turned to look at him, in your eyes a questioning look that he returned with a small shrug and a smile, hoping that he’d have the chance to further explain later on. He had never missed a year, always there for the whole month, mentioning once that this was his time off from the ranch, getting extra time to hang out and do something he loved. So his uncertainty was… weird.  “You promise?” she asked, this time jumping over a small rock, her hands clinging onto the kid in front of her, Nellie. “Yeah, promise! Promise!” Nellie started chanting, soon aided in her chorus by most of the other kids, their voices high in pitch and loud, making you laugh as you moved around them, gently shushing them. “I… I promise, yeah.” he said it slowly, as if his promise wouldn’t count that way. He was half sure he would be there, but he wasn’t fully sure, and lying was something he hated, especially when it came to lying to the face of those adorable kids, kids he had spent various summers with. “Time to head back, kids, let’s not overdo it, we wouldn’t want dear old Bob to go deaf, right?” you joked, moving them along the path, the sign to the entrance of the camp now in sight. You missed the way he smiled at you, or the way he had to glance down at his feet instead of quickening his pace to catch up, the lie slowly making him uneasy. You slowed down your steps, falling into a small walk as the kids ran ahead, finding the others and falling into a queue, ready for the next activity, one that neither you nor Bob had to partake in, time for a welcomed break. “If you’re here?” you questioned, trying to keep your tone lighthearted, pushing any other feeling away, even if the closeness of your hands was making it hard to concentrate on anything but reaching for his, holding it, for once. “I…” he started, taking a deep breath in, chuckling lightly, “I was thinking of joining the Navy. Sent my papers to the academy and all. I don’t think they’ll take me, I mean, c’mon.” He laughed, pointing at himself, “but if they do, summer is… not a thing I’ll be able to pass here, I think.”  “Oh.” You managed to reply, your footsteps slowing once more, not willing to end your chat so soon, slowly stirring it towards the path that twisted around the camp, a short-ish walk, but leaving you with some more time to talk. “I mean, they’d be lucky to have you, really.” you said honestly, smiling at him. “But I’ll miss you, if you end up going.” You revealed, looking up at him. He didn’t look like a Navy guy, with his messy hair, not combed after the night ‘cause of lack of time, or his glasses, or his slightly shy demeanour, but you’d support him in it. He was smart, and he had many skills, and he would be great and you knew he could do it. He wouldn’t know that, of course, since you never quite got the courage to ask for his number, never exchanging them, never hearing from each other if not when you met a whole three seasons later, and so you’d never get to tell him how proud you were of getting in, if that ended up being the case. And it took everything you had in that moment to not show the disappointment in your face, especially when you glanced back up at him, his cheeks red from the sun and his eyes twinkling from the light. God, you thought, If he does end up going, next summer is going to be hard.
You sat by the campfire, Bob sat opposite you, Sarah by your side, chatting with the others about the last days on camp, the crackling of the wood making everyone smile fondly as stories were exchanged. “I couldn’t believe that Kyle found the courage to cross that bridge all on his own.” Martin said, shaking his head. You nodded along with the rest, smiling as the kids' accomplishments were shared, as the last activities were planned, from writing a summary of their favorite activities for reference for the coming years, to what stories to tell and treats to cook. “So,” Sasha said after all the planning had been done, “what are you all going to be doing this winter? Will we be seeing everyone next summer?” He asked cheerfully. He was the oldest of the group and acted almost like a dad to everyone, always keeping in touch when he could, but also taking care of the vast majority of the summer camp organization. You smiled as everyone took their turn telling their plans, talking about your own when it was your turn and told everyone your own plans, not varying much from those of the previous year. It was then Sarah’s turn, with the chatter about parties and travels, hopefully, never losing that glint in her eyes as she talked. It was then Alice’s turn, and Eliott’s, until it was Bob’s, and you moved to look at him, curious to listen, and to have the extra excuse to look at him with no guilt about it. “I’m going to help out at the ranch.” He mumbled, “The usual. But… yeah.” He added, nodding with a light chuckle. It was the furthest thing from a confirmation about his presence in the upcoming year, but Sasha took it as one, not noticing how Bob’s eyes darted to yours when he didn’t mention what his plan really was, almost as if he was asking you to keep his secret, which of course you did. You gave him a soft smile at his words, keeping your gaze on him, seeing his big blue eyes as they looked back, a timid smile sent your way as a silent thank you.
Two days later you said your goodbyes. The kids left first, their parents coming to pick them up as they hurriedly ran towards them, jumping in the arms of mothers, parents, brothers, grandparents or caregivers, each child happy to have spent the time in the wild but still glad to go home. Olivia and Nellie, having grown closer this year than they had during the last two, waved at everyone, giggling and running around. You turned to look at Bob, his smile bittersweet as he looked at everyone, waving and saying his goodbyes, and his words from the previous days came to mind. “So…” you said, moving closer to him, “I’ll see you next year, maybe?” He hadn’t added anything else, and while there were still a few hours to be spent all together, fixing what could be fixed of the camp and saying your own goodbyes, this seemed like one of the last moments you’d get alone with him. He sighed, looking down. “Maybe, yeah.” He nodded, already missing the idea of not being here, but feeling a passion in his being at the thought of what the navy could offer. “I’d love to be, but… it’s not sure.” He mumbled quietly, still weary about talking about it with anyone but you. “I’d love for you to be, too.” You joked, deciding on asking him for his number when you saw his smile, the excuse of keeping in contact perfect and direct. “I wanted to-” “Hey, Bob! There’s some fixing to do in cabin 4, can you give me a hand?” Roger shouted from halfway down the path, interrupting you. “Yep! Coming right down!” He shouted back, fixing his glasses and looking back to you, expectantly. “Oh. Ehm… nothing,” you said with a dry laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up under his curious gaze, “Go help Roger. I’ll see you later!” you waved, turning to find Sarah. You had almost asked him. Which was already a step forward, maybe. Still, it felt bittersweet. Even if you got his number, there was a good chance he’d be gone by next summer, away in another state doing who knows what. 
You sighed as you reached your cabin, finding Sarah in it, packing and cleaning, moving around to the music. “Anything I can help you with?” you asked, stepping in and smiling at her, happy when she nodded, needing something to keep you busy. “Last bit of cleaning, yeah. There’s a sponge by the desk over there!” She said, pointing at the clean sponge by the soapy water, the smell coming from it flowery and sweet. You moved by her side and cleaned along, dancing slightly to the music, not saying much.
And there you were, a few hours later, clutching your bag like your life depended on it, waiting to see Bob for the, possibly, last time. “Hey.” You heard him call after a moment, jogging up to you and sending a wave at Sarah, patiently waiting in her car. She had told you to talk to him, that being the only way you could get a lift home from here, and that’s what you did, clinging to that threat to give you the confidence you needed. “Hey.” you repeated, sighing softly, “so, it’s done, huh?” You barely had spoken, his arms already wrapped around you in a quick hug, a thank you whispered in your ear before he pushed away, standing before you again. “I’m sorry. I… I hope to see you again?” He asked, slightly stuttering as he reached for his bag, flinging it over his shoulder with red cheeks. “Yeah.” You hummed. Want to exchange numbers? You could’ve asked. Would you like to keep in contact? “See you next summer, maybe?” Is what you came up with instead, looking at him expectantly until he nodded, swallowing the words that he might’ve liked saying, leaving you to leave with a curse on your lips at the missed opportunity, and him with a slight sadness in his chest, knowing it was likely he wouldn’t see you next summer. 
Winter passed slowly, spring soon breaking the frost and warming everything up, leaving a sense of excitement bubbling in your chest. You couldn't wait for camp to start again, meeting new kids, spending time by the fire, seeing Bob again. It was stupid, but he was kind, and cute, and intelligent, and you enjoyed spending time with him, so harboring a little crush was fine, but a little distraction you could allow yourself. 
And then the start of summer officially came, leading you all the way up to the annual meet-up, few days before the kids would arrive, the camp in need of some small maintenance and preparation. It was all great, until each single person arrived, except Bob. He was always one of the first to arrive, with his bag of stuff and big smile, waving at everyone and standing by your side, your little chit chats vital as you caught up with each other. But this time he wasn’t here, and you knew what it meant. You tried to hide your wandering gaze, feeling a hand brush over your arm and jolting you out of your thoughts, meeting face to face with Sarah. “How have you been?” She asked you excitedly, pulling you in a hug. She held you tight, moving you from side to side as she patted your back, happy to see you in this setting rather than your usual neighbourly visits, even if her reaction made it seem like you hadn’t seen each other in months. “All good!” You lied, smile tight and fake, hoping that she couldn’t read what was really going on in your mind. You had held on to the hope that Bob would be here, but now that you were waiting, it didn’t seem likely anymore. “Great!” She smiled back, taking in her surroundings and counting each person there. “We’re one short.” She announced, turning to look at you with questioning eyes. “Bob’s not here.” You said, looking down and revealing your secret almost instantly, knowing she’d understand soon enough anyway. She knew about your slight crush on him, revealing it earlier last fall when you spent a chilly night with some drinks, the alcohol making you spill your secret. “Oh, honey.” She said softly, hearing your tone and reaching to pull you in another hug, this time trying to comfort you. It was just a crush, but she knew you cared about him, and had desperately hoped that he’d be there.
“Bob?” She asked, perching herself forward, almost falling off her chair. “The cutie with the glasses? The one that always comes over to chat with us but never really talks to me unless you’re around? The one that looks at you like you’re a goddess every time you help a kid that fell over, or when you charm everyone with your stories?” You felt your cheeks burn as you shook your head, knowing that that could not be the truth. “Sarah, please.” You begged, half-regretting mentioning this to her. “No, no, I fully get it! He is cute, he’s funny, you two work well together. But you should tell him.” She spoke honestly and simply, clinking her bottle to yours. “Never.” You said with a laugh, knowing that that wouldn’t happen. Sure, you worked together, and you loved talking to him, and every time you were by his side you could get lost in his stories or just sit in silence and enjoy that too, but there was no way you’d tell him that you liked him. “Okay, then ask for his phone number. That way you can chat, and maybe he’ll ask you out.” You sighed, shaking your head. “If the moment calls for it, sure. I’ll… maybe.” You offered, clinking your drink against hers and smiling when she nodded, letting the subject of asking for his number fall, yet still talking about him for another moment, laughing each time you blushed at something she said. 
And so, camp went on as it always did, with bumps and cuts and stories and adventures and crying and laughing and joking and hoping. But with no Bob. It worked out, somehow, except when the kids felt his absence, asking about him, wondering, talking.
Pauline caught up with you, Nellie by her side as she tugged on your pants. “Hey, Pauline, Nellie. All good?” you asked, stopping to talk to them. “Where’s Mister Robert? He said we could go explore the other trail this year!” Her smile was bright, and your heart broke a little more at the knowledge that he wasn’t here. You had heard him make her that promise, and even if he had tried to avoid it, she clung onto it for the whole autumn, winter and spring. “Bob isn’t here this year, dear. But we can still go explore the other trail, we’ll just have to-” “Why isn’t he here?” She asked, interrupting you with a frown. You sighed, lowering your head at the question you had asked yourself the first day back, waiting for him eagerly to arrive only to be left with one person less on your team. “From what I know, he joined the Navy.” You explained quickly, grabbing both her hand and Nellie’s as you walked, answering each question as well as you could as you walked back to camp, needing to tell Sarah the change of plan and pick up any gear needed for the new trail. “Can we send him a letter?” Nellie asked, already collecting a leaf and a flower to press and add to the letter, remembering when he had taught them all about preserving flowers, insisting that they were great gifts, especially for people far away. “We… I think?” You truly weren’t sure, but you assumed that probably it wouldn’t be an issue. You could go talk to his family and get an address, or just leave all the letters for when he got back. “We can.” you decided, giving yourself the afternoon to collect the materials for the next day, knowing that some of the kids would want to add little drawings or think about what to write. “So,” you started, calling the attention of all of the kids, combining a little group of all the ones that had the chance to meet and work with Bob, along with one kid, Henry, that hadn’t, but that had heard so many good things of him that begged you to send him a letter anyway. “Everyone can get one piece of paper to write, and one to draw. Don’t feel obliged to do both, but don’t waste paper either.” you said, trying to be stern but not overly so, flashing everyone a smile as they walked over to grab what they needed. By the end of the day you had collected all of the letters, sitting on your bed while you waited for Sarah to be done with her shower, reading through them and smiling at some of the drawings, Bob being drawn in all of them, sometimes with a goofy smile, or with a Superman cape, or giving a thumbs up to a kid when they did something right. He had always been kind to them, always treated them like equals, always cared for them, and the love he gave was always returned, these letters just proving how he was in their eyes. Dear Bob, I miss you. We get to write you letters, we hope your you’re having fun at the navy thing school. You said we’d get to go try the other trail. We did last week, it was scary but we did it. I miss you, come back to camp again next year please. Love, Nellie.
The first one said, the messy handwriting accompanied by a drawing of her and Bob holding hands, the sun shining in one corner with a big smile.
Dear Bob, My name is Henry. You didn’t meet me, but I heard from my friend you were amazing. I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet. I hope to one day. Big hugs, Henry
This letter had a drawing of a car, red and fast, along with a character that probably was Henry, waving.
Bob, You’re not here this year. I’m sad :( Will you be back next year? What are you doing now? Do you miss us too? I drawed your favorite flower, I remember when you showed me in the forest last year. Come back soon Lucie
And Lucie, just like she promised, had drawn, with her little uncertain lines and messy coloring, a cute flower, Bob’s name written behind it with a big heart.
You closed your eyes, holding the letters in one hand as you considered if this was okay. Shaking your head, you picked a piece of paper up, choosing your best pen and writing a few words to accompany the ones from the kids, each one too sweet to not send to the man you had slowly started catching feelings for. 
Dear Bob, So you made it! I had no doubts, I’m so proud of you! I hope this is okay, but the kids missed you, so I proposed writing you a letter, something to remember us by. There ended up being quite a few, so I hope between trainings and lessons you’ll get enough time to slowly read them all. It was lovely getting to spend so many summers with you. I’ve missed you. I’ve attached my number at the bottom of this message, it might make communication easier, even if just to let me know you got the letters. Big hugs from everyone. 
You signed your name at the bottom, scribbling your number and checking it thrice, as well as reading the whole thing over and over. It wasn’t much, and most of what you wanted to say went unwritten, not willing to tell him anything more than friendly words, already debating for quite some time before Sarah convinced you to write your number down too. “He’ll appreciate it.” She comforted you, looking at the letter in your hand. “It’s so forward.” You muttered, eyebrows drawn together in worry. There was nothing more that scared you than losing this friendship you had built with him, kill this harboring crush before it even had a chance, just cause you had been too forward. “This is literally the opposite. If I were you I’d end it with Love, or with my whole heart, or-” “Okay.” You interrupted her, plucking the page out of her hand and folding it neatly, placing it on top of the stack. You’d send them tomorrow morning, the address you had gotten written carefully and neatly on the front, all the letters placed together in a simple box, not overly heavy but surely giving him some reading material. You truly hoped he wouldn’t mind you finding out where to send the letters to. When you had gotten to his family’s ranch, roughly a week ago, you smiled as you knocked on the door, his mother welcoming you in for some fresh lemonade and a slice of her apple pie. You ended up sticking around for over an hour, telling her stories of how you had met Bob, what activities he was the best at organizing and what stories he had told, as well as her mentioning how much he talked about you, making your heart flutter until you realized she probably meant you as in “the whole team”. By the time the sun had started to set, you had left his house with an address, a piece of pie for the way home, and a new friend. The next morning you sent the letters, the little box you had prepared now donning his name and an address, and soon, hopefully in the next week, he’d receive them.
A week and a half after that, you received it. A simple text from an unknown number, the picture attached to the message immediately giving you a clue as to who it might be.
I am honestly speechless. I didn’t expect this, thank you so, so much.
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ofburningskies · 1 year
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good times amongst the pines (pt. 1)
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Authors note: Hi everyone! Carnelian here. Long time no see :) Hope everyone enjoys this Sammy fic! It's been brewing in my mind for quite some time - I actually began to write it towards the end of summer, but just now finished it. So, when you read it, imagine that it's taking place in the summer lol. This will also be a multi-part fic. I envision there being three parts (?), but we'll see. I'm also on fall break from uni quarantining with covid right now, so send in any Sam asks you might have! Thanks guys! :)
Pairing: Sammy x F!Reader
Content warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, unprotected sex, very very slightly tense situations, language, Sam in linen pants 👍
Word count: 7.4k
Summary: Y/N and Sam go to Y/N’s family cabin to make some new sweet and spicy memories up there :)
“Hey honey, can you come in here a sec?” Sam cooed from your bedroom, just down the hall from where you were sitting in your home office. You were currently finishing up your last task on the agenda that day for your work on the computer while your boyfriend Sam was diligently packing up everything that you two could possibly need before you left on your annual cabin trip. 
Your family’s cabin was nestled in the pine forest a ways up the mountain, far from civilization, just how you both liked it. It was your parent’s cabin, but seeing as they now live out of state, they let Sam and you stay there as much as you want and take care of the grounds, as well as your other family members from time to time. You were thrilled for this specific trip though, as this would be yours and Sam’s first time up there alone. You were always joined by other family members in the past, but this time you were able to score it completely for yourselves. 
Your childhood was filled with trips up to the cabin, and you look back on these memories fondly. There were many summer nights where you and your friends were all huddled up outside, surrounding the campfire and roasting s’mores, singing as many camp songs as you guys could remember.
The forest that your cabin was settled in was so beautiful and lush, just brimmed to the edge with gorgeous, tall pines and colorful wildflowers that always swayed in the fragrant summer breeze. One of your favorite things to do when you went up was to find a large granite boulder, already slightly warmed up from the sun, and lay yourself out on it with your face up to the sky, listening to the wind rustling through the pine needles. It was definitely one of your most favorite sounds on the planet.
Your other most favorite sound called from down the hall again, snapping you out of your daydream as you scrambled to your feet, eyes groggy from all the screen-time you’ve consumed today. Gosh, you were really looking forward to having no service the next few days. “Yes, coming Sammy!” you returned, padding down the hall to see what the lanky man needed. 
As you entered the doorway, he was holding up two different pairs of swim trunks, one with a loud flamingo pattern and the other with no pattern at all, just a cherry red color. “I am in dire need of your help deciding which ones I sh-“
“Cherry red,” you blurted out before Sam could even finish his sentence. 
He smirked to himself before replying, “Now how did I know you were gonna choose these?” 
You stepped closer to him, snatching the red trunks out of his hands and folding them for him. “Because, Sammy, you know red is my favorite color on you.”
“Hm, yeah, maybe I did know…” he trailed off, reaching for your waist as you placed the trunks in his suitcase. He pulled you in close, wrapping his arms tightly around your back. This caused your head to become nestled right in the crook of his neck and shoulder, so you took a deep inhale, relishing in his presence and scent. “‘M really looking forward to spending these next few days with you, sweet girl. No distractions, no work, no phones. Just you and me, Y/N,” he said while leaning back a little bit to look you in the eyes, wiggling his eyebrows. 
“Oh god, that sounds like heaven, babe,” you exclaim before continuing, “this week has been so long already, with work and family, and - I just really need a few days with you. And you only, that’s it.” You let out a deep exhale before looking back up into his eyes, which were shining with so much love and adoration. He took such good care of you, and you were forever grateful for that. 
“Of course, honey, vice versa. Alright, let me finish packing our stuff while you email your boss, and then let’s hit the road, baby! I don’t wanna make you wait any longer than you have to!” Sam stated, reaching his right hand up to ruffle your hair up with his fingers while laughing. You giggled in response, instantly reaching up to smooth down the mess he made as much as you could. 
“M’kay, let’s try to be out of here in the next half hour, yeah?” you asked him while leaning in for a kiss. He returns your kiss before replying, deepening it immediately. It takes you by surprise, causing you to gasp into his mouth while you grip onto his thin t-shirt. He takes this opportunity to slip his tongue inside with yours, tangling the two around for a few moments before you pull away, panting for breath. “Samuel Francis… wait until we get there!” you laugh out, meeting his eyes once more, which were crinkled at the end due to his dorky smile he had plastered on his face.
“Okay, okay! Sorry, it’s just hard for me to keep my hands off, sometimes,” he responded, finally turning around to finish packing. You take this as a sign that he’s finally settled down, so you turn on your heel and make your way out of the bedroom to finish your work and start taking stuff out to the car, but not before you felt a sharp smack against your ass and that oh-so-familiar laughter. 
“Kiszka, I swear to God -“ 
“I’m done, I promise, just had to get that in there. I swear,” Sam said through his laughter. You finally turn back towards him once you reach the door frame to see him standing there with both his hands raised by his head, signifying no more funny business until you got to the cabin. He smiles at you sweetly before whispering, “I love you,” and turning around to finish his packing. 
“I love you too, crazy, and I’ll see you in the kitchen in just a little bit!” you reply before finally walking back to the office, more than ready to finish your task at hand so you two can make your way up to the cabin.
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After around 3 hours of Sam driving you guys through dense forests and having multiple pee stops because Sam insisted on getting the Big Gulp from the gas station, you found yourselves finally pulling into your cabin’s driveway, completely overgrown with vegetation from last year. 
“Well, there’s something for us to work on if we get bored!” Sam claimed, always looking at the positives. Meanwhile, you couldn’t believe your family let it get to this state. You knew the driveway was long and that it was hard work to take care of, but it had to be done, especially with the wildfire hazards in the area.
“Yeah, no kidding…” you trailed off, Sam noticing your sour mood instantly.
“Hey, hun, don’t let your family’s lack of responsibility damper your mood already! Like I said, it’ll give us something to do if we run out of other things to busy ourselves with this week. Keep your chin up, babe,” he said sweetly while reaching over and grabbing your knee, thumb lightly tracing over your exposed skin. 
“Thank you, Sammy, gosh, sometimes it’s just so hard to not let it get to my head. I mean, if this is just what the driveway looks like, I’m kind of nervous to see what the cabin’s state is,” you stated while looking out the window, trying to get a glimpse of it through the trees up above you. “I’m sure it’s fine though. As long as I have you here, that’s all I care about this week. Just you and me, baby,” you say before turning back to him and leaning over the center console, planting a big, wet kiss on his cheek. 
“Ewwwww!” Sam jokingly yelled in response to the saliva you left on his right cheek, smile growing wide despite his reaction.
“Oh yeah? Ew? What about this?” you asked him as you left more wet kisses all over his cheek, giggling as he tried to crane his neck away from your loving attack of sloppy kisses. You eventually relented, deciding you’d teased him enough, and as soon as you landed back into your seat and turned to look through the windshield, your family’s cabin came into view.
“Oh, baby! Here we are!” Sam excitedly yelled, pulling the car all the way up to the front porch that way you wouldn’t have far to walk while carrying your bags. 
You were pleasantly surprised, to say the least. With how awful the driveway was pulling in, you expected the cabin to have hanging shutters, maybe a few broken windows, or even some fallen trees in your yard. As soon as you laid eyes on the building, you couldn’t believe just how perfect it was. Your family must’ve come down recently to paint it, as the color was completely refreshed, glimmering brightly in the afternoon sun. All the shutters were closed, nice and tight as they should be. The porch and yard were completely clear of unwanted vegetation, branches, and logs. 
You couldn’t be happier.
Sam put the car in park and grabbed the keys from the ignition once the car was shut off, making a beeline for the front door of the cabin, the cabin keys jingling from his fingers. 
“Man, I REALLY shouldn’t have picked the Big Gulp at the gas station. I’ve been going like a racehorse this entire time,” Sam laughed, making a mental note to himself to only pick up smaller drinks on your long drives to and from the cabin. You made your way towards the front door, towing your suitcase behind you.
“Yeah, babe, I think next time the child’s size would be perfect for someone like you,” you giggle, walking up the stairs besides the tall, lanky man as he fumbled with the keys, trying to get the door unlocked so you could take your items upstairs, meanwhile he could get the water and electricity turned on to use the restroom. 
“Cowabunga,” he murmured, inserting the correct key and wobbling the knob just right to unlock the old, heavy redwood door that’s been protecting the interior of your family’s cabin from the outside world for generations. You dragged your heavy suitcase across the threshold of the cabin, slowly making your way towards the upstairs bedroom. “Alright, honey, while you get settled, I’m gonna run around out back and get the water running and that electricity going through the place! Don’t get lost,” he says with a wink, and with that, he’s running down the front steps, padding around to where the breaker’s located and to turn the water on. 
You didn’t really get to take a look at the inside of the cabin when you stepped in because Sam had almost dropped his keys through the floorboards of the deck as you were making your way in, drawing your complete and full attention to his clumsiness. Once he left to run around the property to check on everything, you were able to actually turn around and take in the sight before you. To the right of you was the living room area, complete with a green wooden couch, a few plush armchairs that you loved to curl up in on a stormy day with a hot cup of tea, bookcases filled to the brim with nature literature, and your absolute favorite, the large fireplace that adorned the right wall, making those chilly nights much more comfortable.
To the left was the kitchen, one of the few places in the cabin that you don’t find yourself in that often because you don’t necessarily consider yourself to be the most amazing chef OR baker. That’s definitely where Sammy comes in, as he makes most of your homemade meals for the two of you. He loves to try and show you once or twice a week how to make one of his favorite recipes, but most often than not, it ends in disaster. One time, back at home, you guys ended up outside talking with the county fire department because your neighbor saw so much smoke coming from your kitchen window that they called 911 immediately. The cabin’s kitchen was full of dishware, gadgets, rags, pots and pans, cleaning supplies, you name it. It was Sam’s little slice of heaven up here. Attached to the kitchen was the small dining area, which just had a little breakfast table, a few chairs, and maps of the national forest that your cabin was located in tacked to the wall for viewing while eating. 
Finally, right in front of you from where you were standing in the doorway and across the walkway was the stairway to the loft, which is where any guests were allowed to stay. You figured Sam would grab his suitcase and toiletry bag from the car before making his way back inside, so you didn’t worry about it before deciding to make your way on up the wooden staircase. Once you were up the stairs, creaking with every step, your heart was filled with joy at the scene in front of you. The afternoon sun was casting its rays through the windows, creating a golden hue amongst the green and brown furniture. The entire loft area was decorated with kitschy cabin decor, one of your guilty pleasures when it came to home decorations. You were so excited for Sam to come in to get started on making even more treasured memories.
Before you knew it, dinnertime had rolled around. The sun was finally making its slow journey past the horizon, slipping through the tall pines. The air began to get chilly as the sun was setting, and of course, how could you forget, this was when the mosquitos made their appearance as well. Thankfully, before you guys made your trip up to the cabin, you remembered to pack what Sammy called an “industrial sized can of mosquito spray that could kill all of the mosquitoes living in the Amazon Rainforest.” You knew it was necessary, though. The both of you ran around the house, trying to shut the windows as fast as possible as soon as you began to see a few of the bothersome mosquitoes fly into the kitchen through the window above the sink.
Once the windows were shut and latched, Sam began to grab the necessary ingredients for your dinner that evening out of the fridge and cupboards lining the kitchen. “Sammy, baby, can I do anything to help?” you asked while coming up behind him, lacing your arms around his front torso as he read the recipe from the cookbook he brought along. He looked so beautiful this evening - he had on one of your favorite black button ups (but he was only using the three bottom buttons to keep it draped around his lanky frame) and some white linen pants. His silky hair that he put up in a bun earlier in the day was falling out, leaving strands of hair to cascade down around his face and neck, framing his features perfectly. You leaned your head into the middle of his back, right where his shoulder blades rested, and took a deep breath in, trying to remember this moment forever.
“Aw, hun, y’know, if you wanna make us something to drink and maybe put some music on, that would be great,” he responded, adding, “I can’t use my magic touch on these bitchin’ tostadas unless we have some music to sing along to.”
He started to shimmy in your embrace at this, causing you to giggle and press a light kiss to the back of his neck, heading off to make your drinks and put on a record. One thing you were thankful for when it came to your family and throwing parties was that they loved alcohol. With that being said, anywhere that your family stays, there’s always alcohol around, whether it be a full bar, a mini bar, or just a bottle of vodka. You started making one of Sam’s favorite drinks, which coincidentally was one of yours, too. Once you were all done with the tequila and triple-sec, you left the mini bar to put some music on, but first you stopped to give Sam his margarita. 
“Oooooo, for me?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows as you walked closer to where he was standing in the kitchen, handing him the salt-rimmed glass in his out-reached hand. He immediately brought the glass up to his lips and closed his eyes while taking a sip. “Babe, I don’t know if it’s the mountain air or what, but I think this is the best goddamn margarita you’ve ever made.”
You were taken aback, as Sam was a huge cocktail snob. He’s had drinks all around the world made with the finest liquors and tastiest mixers. “Seriously?!” you squeal. He nods his head vigorously, going in for another sip before turning around to continue his craft. “Well, if you want another one, you know who to ask,” you mention while sauntering out of the kitchen, quietly laughing to yourself. 
You made your way back into the living room where the record player was located, on the hunt for a very, very specific vinyl. You crouched down on your knees to pull out the storage crates that held your family’s ever-growing collection of vinyls, especially now since you were with Sammy. You swear he could smell a record in a music store that he’d been wanting from miles away. After a few minutes of looking, you finally found it. The Papas and The Mamas by The Mamas and The Papas. Reading the cover always made you giggle to yourself. 
When you and Sam first moved into your apartment together, there was a time when you both had an extremely stressful, frustrating day. Basically, everything that could’ve gone wrong went wrong for the both of you that one day. Josh and Jake were bitching at each other in the studio all day over some miniscule lyrics, causing Sam to want to pull his hair out and light both their cars on fire after leaving the building that evening. That day at your old job at the local cafe, you managed to spill an entire jug of iced tea all over yourself, and it seemed as if Satan himself was sending you his finest Karens for you to take orders from all day long.
After high tension at work, you two were sitting in complete silence on the couch next to each other that evening, both lost in your own thoughts from the day. The TV was on, but neither of you were paying any attention to the sitcom that was playing on the screen. Wordlessly, he grabbed the remote and shut the TV off, and made his way towards your record player in the living room. After some moments of flipping through the album covers, he must’ve found what he was looking for, cracking a small smile. He grabbed this very specific vinyl out of his collection and gently placed it down, turning the volume up slightly while you were watching his every move, eyes trained on his figure like a hawk. 
He turned around to face you with that gentle smile on his face, and you couldn’t help but return it. Sam slowly made his way towards you as the music played softly in the background, reaching his hand out towards you, gesturing for you to grab it and join him. He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you off the couch and into the living room with him, beginning to sway the both of you back and forth to the rhythm of the music. With every step you took, Sam holding you close within his arms, you could feel the tension draining from your body. You took your hands that were clasped together at the back of his neck and began to thread them through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly when you pulled away from his chest to take a look at his beautiful face. 
“Feeling better, sweetheart?” he asked gently, staring into your eyes with his own golden brown ones. 
You nod lightly. “Mhm. I’m sorry we both had rough days. Thank you for always knowing how to make it a little sweeter,” you respond, leaning up to give him a tender kiss on the lips. 
You both continued to dance around your living room for the rest of the evening until you were too exhausted to stand, wholly at ease from the stressful day. The two of you curled up close in bed that night, holding on to one another as if the other would accidentally slip away. 
You reminisced about this memory while carefully pulling the record out of the sleeve, already excited for how Sammy would react once he heard those first few notes of “Safe in My Garden” ring out through the cabin. Once you got the record placed on the player, you slowly let the needle fall down. You began to sway to the music, letting it fill your mind and body, feeling the surges of bliss course from your fingers to your toes as the familiar notes rang throughout the living room. 
You had a few seconds of enjoying the song to yourself before you heard him call for you from the kitchen. “Y/N… come here, love,” he beckoned to you, beginning to sing the song while you made your way to the kitchen. As soon as you made your way around the corner and into the warm scene in front of you, the savory smells overtook your senses. Sam was standing in front of the stove, fully donned in your family’s shared apron that said “Kiss the Cook!” covered in puckered lips. “Okay, hun, I need you to try this sauce that I whipped up for us,” Sam said, dipping the wooden spoon into the saucepan on the stove. He scooped up a small amount for you to taste and made his way over to where you were situated leaning against the kitchen countertop, blowing on the liquid before he made it all the way towards you to help cool it off some. “Alright, open up…” he murmured, directing the spoon towards your mouth. You opened your mouth, letting him slide the wooden utensil past your lips, depositing the warm liquid on your tongue. You tucked your hair behind your ear as you swallowed the sauce, eyes flitting up to meet his as you fully tasted it. 
You eyed him carefully as you were letting the flavor sit on your tongue - the way his pupils expanded once he put the spoon in your mouth, how his mouth slightly gaped open, his tongue darting out to wet his full bottom lip. The flush that was apparent on his cheeks when you wrapped your lips around the spoon, careful not to let any drip out of your mouth as he pulled it away. 
His eyes were zeroed in on your lips once you were finished with tasting the sauce. You knew exactly what was going through his mind, but you wanted to work him up a little more. See what would really make him snap. 
You snapped him out of his trance by finally speaking up, “Baby, that’s so good, what all did you put in it?” You smirked at him before pushing yourself off the counter as he coughed, attempting to recover himself. You draped your arms around his neck, pulling you two closer. He set the wooden spoon down on the counter behind you before finally replying, “Uhm, just the usual and what I could find in your spice drawer. Oregano, salt, jalapenos, garlic…” he trailed off, captivated by your hands that were now moving through his hair, scratching his scalp ever-so-slightly. If you weren’t paying as much attention as you already were, you would’ve missed it when he started to practically purr, his head leaning into your fingers as they ran through his locks. 
“You are such a good cook, Sammy, you always make me the best meals. You know that?” He hummed in response, nodding his head. “Mhmm, yes. You take good, good care of me. Always make sure I’m satisfied.” You lean into him at this, just as he inhaled a deep breath of air at your suggestive words. You let your lips wander along the expanse of his neck, leaving small kisses here and there. At this point, his breathing was becoming rather uneven and he was forgetting completely about the sauce on the stove. You abruptly pulled away, letting your hands fall from his hair. He practically whined at the loss of contact, but you knew you weren’t quite done yet. 
One of your favorite things to do was to tease Sammy. Whether you two were at home and you weren’t wearing anything underneath one of his old t-shirts while he was on a Zoom meeting, or you were both out with friends for dinner and you kept accidentally brushing your hand against his bulge at the table, you knew just how to get him worked up past the point of no return. 
You walked away from him, making your way towards the freezer at the other end of the kitchen to grab a new bottle of vodka for the bar in the living room. You could feel his eyes on you, burning holes in the back of your dress. It was completely silent except for the record in the living room and the sauce on the stove, so you knew he was transfixed on your figure, in a complete daze after your teasing. You slowly leaned down, letting him get a good view of your ass while opening the freezer drawer, asking him, “Tito’s or Grey Goo-?” 
Before you could even get the question fully out of your mouth, he was right there behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you back towards the counters. He hastily shut the freezer with his foot while pressing himself against you completely. You immediately felt his erection rub against you, hot and heavy. “You’re such a fucking tease, y’know that, right?” Sam questioned you, his hot breath fanning over your neck. 
“Yes, but only for you, Sammy,” you whined. He turned you around to face him when hearing his nickname. He loved it when you called him that in times like these - the most innocent of names in the filthiest of situations.
The sauce was still simmering on the stove, you could hear it fizzle and splatter in the pot as Sam pushed you against the counter top, strong hands gripping your waist through the thin material. This caused your dress to ride up your thighs, giving him an almost clear view of what he wanted, what he needed, but nonetheless, he attached his mouth to the side of your neck, beginning to tease you in return. He was biting and sucking every inch of skin that he could get his mouth on, making the most obscene sounds, but he wasn’t embarrassed at all. He only had one goal on his mind, which was to make his girl feel good, and oh boy, was he succeeding. Once his tongue trailed from your collarbone up to the bottom of your ear, he pulled away, moving his hands to the backs of your thighs. He gave you a little tap on your soft skin, signaling for you to jump in his arms, and he swiftly grabbed and deposited you on the kitchen counter. 
“My god, every single day I wonder how I got so lucky…” he whispers out loud as he drinks you in. Your legs were wrapped around his waist now, your hands tangled in his hair, pulling on his tresses ever so slightly just to get a reaction out of him. He lets out a low groan, letting his head slip back, exposing his neck to you. You practically moan at the sight. He looked like the embodiment of sex before you.
Without any hesitation, you lean forward, letting your mouth trail all over his burning skin. Since he was going to be away from the public eye for a few days, you began to nip and suck at the smooth skin, gently lapping over the blooming marks once you were pleased with your work.
“Mmmm, fuck, honey, love how you mark me up,” he hisses out, gripping your hair and tugging your head back. Once you were able to look Sam in the eyes again, you could see how much they had darkened just in the past few minutes. Normally they were a soft, rich brown, but now they were dark, full of passion and hunger. His hands moved from your hair to the straps of your sundress, toying with the light material between his slender digits while his eyes trailed down your form. 
“Sammy, I have a confession,” you whisper, and his gaze snaps from your breasts to your eyes, becoming curious at once.
“Do tell, baby.” Sam begins to delicately trace shapes along your arms and collarbones, causing you to take a sharp inhale. Any form of touch from the man standing in front of you always caused you to squirm in your seat in the best way possible. You lock your ankles together behind the small of his back, feeling the warmth of his skin radiate off of him and onto your bare legs, traveling all the way up to your core. 
You pull him in closer in the process, muttering directly into his ear, “Y’know, I kind of always wanted to be fucked in this cabin. Right here, actually, on the counter.”
His hands that were once trailing along your chest halted their movements, stilling for just a moment before returning to their position at your shoulders. He hummed at your sinful confession, you could practically see the gears turning in his head, the steam billowing out of his ears.
“My sweet, sweet Y/N, daydreaming about being fucked in her family’s cabin. And right here, too?” he questions you sweetly, dipping his head down to ghost his lips over yours, feeling his hot breath fan over your swollen lips. You nod your head fervently, ready for him to touch you again, feel his fingers drag across your scorching skin. You were wanton with need at this point, inching your hips closer and closer to his growing erection. “Let me get this straight, while you and your family were sitting over there, eating dinner and chatting away, my vixen was sitting there, probably dripping at the thought of being bent over this counter and getting fucked so hard she couldn’t remember her own name? Hm?”
You squeaked at this, bucking your hips up into his, desperate for any type of friction at this point. The way Sam could get you so worked up just off of his words would always bewilder you.
“My naughty girl,” he tsks at you before closing the gap in between the both of you and latching his plump lips onto yours. The kiss sent you into the stars, searing your lips and sending sparks down to your toes. You moaned into his mouth, letting him lick into you. The overwhelming taste of tequila mixed with the chocolate he was snacking on earlier washed over you. You planted your hands on his chest, digging your nails into the soft flesh that was located there. This pulled a deep groan out of him, making you want him even more. 
His hands moved from their position on your shoulders and grabbed at the flimsy hem of your dress, moving it in between his fingers while deliberately tracing his hand up and down your thigh to tease you. You whined immediately at this, wanting him inside of you as soon as possible, ready to live out your shameful daydream. He eventually detached his lips from yours, a trail of saliva connecting the two of you as he hesitantly pulled away. You reached up to wipe your mouth as he asked you lowly, “Now, I guess the last question is this; who were you thinking about while you were getting bent over nice and pretty in this kitchen?”
“God, you, Sammy, you!” you whined, fed up with his slow, deliberate movements and taunting.”Now will you please get on with it and just fuck me already before you burn our dinner?” you huffed out, getting more impatient by the second as you felt his fingers trace over your knee, his warm erection nudging against your clothed core. 
“Anything for my girl,” he obliged, instantly pulling the hem of your dress over your head once you lifted your arms up high above you. You shimmied out of the soft material, leaving you in your matching set that you might’ve knowingly put on that morning before you left the house. It was one of Sam’s favorites - it was a creamy white two-piece, practically all see-through and as soft as butter. His eyes practically popped out of his head once he saw that you were wearing his favorite set, mindlessly throwing your dress into the corner of the kitchen behind him. His hands found their way to your hips, pulling you back in nice and tight while his mouth went straight for your clothed breasts. He slowly licked at the material, humming lowly in the back of his throat, leaving little nips here and there where he thought necessary.
You decided that you had had enough teasing, reaching your right hand down in between your two bodies and began working pushing down his linen pants. Your hand briefly brushed against his length, making his hips chase the friction, searching for more. “Okay, okay…” Sammy said, pulling away to shrug his pants down, freeing his erection completely. He was what you would expect of most skinny, lanky guys - long and hits the right spot every time. You moaned at the sight of him, so desperate for you that he was going to take you right there on the kitchen counter. “God, need to see you,” he said, voice getting rough with desire. He grabbed the waistband of your panties and tried pulling them off of you in one go, which ultimately led to him ripping them in half in his haste. 
“Sam?! Those - those were your favorite,” you exclaimed. He picked up the two pieces and threw the material behind his head, making you laugh.
“S’alright, we’ll just get you another pair, as long as I get to come along and see you try them on,” he trailed off, finally leaning in for another soul-searing kiss. He caught your lips in his full ones as soon as you opened your mouth in rebuttal, catching you off guard. This caused you to lean back a little, making you move both of your hands behind you to support your weight. Sam reached down, and grabbing both your legs underneath your knees, he pulled them up, hooking them around his waist. “Honey, spread ‘em for me. Show me how much you’ve thought about this,” Sam breathed out, directing his gaze down to your dripping core. You immediately spread your legs at the knees, baring yourself to him completely. He groaned at the sight and swallowed deeply, keeping his eyes fixated on your throbbing center while he reached down to grab his hardened length. 
“Sammy, please,” you beg, raising yourself up a little higher on your arms so you could see him begin to stroke his leaking cock. You just wanted him to ravage you at this moment. Everything about him was so incredibly sexy - the hair falling out of his bun and caressing his toned shoulders, the way his moldavite necklace hung gently against his rising chest, the tight grip he had on your hip, the way he was already biting his lip hard enough to draw blood and he wasn’t even inside of you yet. “Baby, just give it to me already,” you whine out, hoping he would listen to you, “I’ve been wanting you all day.”
He looked up at you then, his big brown eyes meeting yours. He parted his lips and gave you a wink before responding, “Alright, only cause you’re so worried about our dinner burning, and, quite frankly, I just wanna feel you around my cock.” You moan quietly in reply, giving him a small smile and a quick nod.
You brace yourself as he takes his length in his hand, lining himself up perfectly before looking you in the eyes. You watch him slowly, the way he runs his thumb over his dick, how he’s locked you in against him with one hand on your hip in a death grip. It’s at this moment that he sinks into you, groaning out at the sensation of your fluttering warmth. His mouth immediately dropped open, the inner corners of his eyebrows turned upwards - he looked like heaven and hell combined.
“Oh - oh, fuck, Y/N,” he rasped, already overcome with pleasure. His other hand that wasn’t previously on you shot up to grab your opposite hip, clutching you against him. You looked down to where you two connected, whimpering out, beginning to grind against his cock to get some sort of friction while he was standing there motionless. He took notice of your neediness and began to slowly draw himself back, making sure you were able to feel every single inch, every vein and curve along his length. You reached your hands up, now that he had a firm grip on your hips, and tangled them within his velvet locks.
He finally met your eyes once your fingers found his scalp. He began pumping himself in and out of you at a slow pace, watching the way you would squirm on the countertop, feeling you pull on his hair when he reached a particularly deep spot within you.
Sammy listened to your body so well whenever you two were intimate. He would wait and listen for the smallest amounts of praise, or even just a breathy sigh to pass your lips to let him know that he was doing his job (very well at that). One of the perks about Sam was that he was a fast learner -  it didn’t take long for the two of you to start having mind-blowing, forget-your-own-name sex. He learned your ins and outs, what you loved and, just as important, what you didn’t care for so much. It wasn’t long into your relationship before he had his head in between your thighs, your toes curling, leaving you gasping for air and clutching the sheets.
“God, sweetheart, you feel amazing,” he whimpered. He ducked his head down to watch where you two met and increased his pace, making him grab onto your hips even tighter. You cried out as he did this, as it caused him to angle his hips upwards, hitting your most cherished spot within your walls. 
You could hear the sauce bubbling on the stove, threatening to spill over the pan’s edge with every passing minute. Sam didn’t pay any mind to it, though. His mind was focused on one thing and one thing only - fucking you until you made a mess on the counter. 
“Shit, Sammy! More, more, more,” you managed to mumble out of your trembling lips, the feeling of his cock slipping in and out of you making you see stars. “God, you’re so deep…” you moaned, squinting your eyes shut from the delicious pressure the head of his cock was creating, almost practically hitting your cervix. This was your favorite, and he knew it - the mix between pain and pleasure. You’d do anything for Sam to fuck you like this all day long. He grunted in response, slapping his hips harder against yours. “Fuck!” you cried, throwing your head back, “Sammy, please baby, don’t stop.”
“Yeah, take it, baby, take it,” Sam breathed out, leaning down to take one of your nipples into his mouth. You moaned at the sudden contact, the warmth from his mouth, only spurring him on even more. He switched to the other nipple, and lapped at it while making you open your mouth in a silent scream as the pleasure began to rear its beautiful, magnificent head deep down in your abdomen. 
He pulled back from your breasts and made eye contact with you, sending sparks down to your core. “Come on honey, don’t want our sauce to be ruined, hm?” he teased you as he pounded into you relentlessly at this point. You could’ve sworn that your vision was beginning to blur around the edges, especially when he reached his nimble fingers up to your face and practically shoved them in your mouth, knowing just what you needed to do. You sucked on the digits like it was your last duty before he pulled them from your lips, snaking them down in between your bodies to make contact with your throbbing clit.
“Mmmmm, Sammy, touch me, please,” you begged him, pleading with him to make you cum.
To say you were a mess at this point was a complete understatement. As soon as his fingers began to rub fast, erratic circles around your clit, you were hurtled face first into your orgasm. You practically screamed Sam’s name as he felt you clench around him, sending him into his own waves of pleasure and ultimately causing him to cum deep inside of you. 
“God, oh fuck, honey, so good. So good,” he moaned out, slowing his thrusts down as he rode both of you through your climaxes together. 
You lifted your head up from where it was resting on his chest from when you came, making eye contact with him once again. His eyes were heavy with a slight gleam to them. “Hey there, pretty girl,” he whispered to you. He lifted his hand up from where it was on your hip, moving some of your hair out of your face that had fallen when you were moving your head.
“Hi, handsome,” you whispered right back, failing to hold back a giggle. 
“Ah, ah, ah, no laughing yet,” Sammy replied, bracing himself to pull out of you by gripping your hips one last time. He slowly pulled out of you, watching his cum drip down and out of your core. “Jesus Christ, that is so hot,” he says out loud, mainly to himself.
“Help me clean up before we go for round two and really ruin our dinner,” you respond, watching Sam saunter to the sink to grab a clean towel and wet it with some warm water. He pads back over to you where you’re sitting on the cool countertop, langs dangling down over the edge, waiting for him to help clean up both of your messes. As you watch him, your heart soars - this side of Sammy was one of your favorites. He was always so kind and attentive towards you, but even more so when you two were done fucking. It could be after an extremely passionate night, where you haven’t seen each other for three months because of tour. He’s grabbing you everywhere, teasing you, making sure you know just how much he missed you while he was away. It could also be after an intense night out, leading to the two of you stumbling into the living room and having him bend you over the couch right there. Those were the nights where you were sure that your entire street knew Sam’s name by the end of your little sessions.
After he was down wiping you down, he gave your inner thighs two light kisses before rising off of his haunches to come face-to-face with you. “So, how was that for kitchen sex? Huh?” he teased you, giving you his million-dollar smirk. 
“Better than I could have ever imagined,” you hopped down off the counter, looking for your dress, “but I must say, I don’t think I’ll be able to eat another meal in here with the family now, babe.”
Sam chuckled while pulling on his own boxers and pants. “Oh, you just wait missy, by the end of this, you won’t be able to walk into any of these rooms without being reminded of our little vacation.” With that, he walked back over to the stove and removed the sauce that had been screaming for his attention all this time. You pulled your dress over your head haphazardly, all while staring at the back of his head in shock.
He couldn’t be serious.
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like-the-rest-of-la · 2 years
Text
I'd spent my whole life tied in ways to have you
2 K | For @arrenemris, based on the prompt: Hearing your best friend say you’re nothing more than friends, dying a little on the inside because you wish it was more than that (from this prompt list)
(and a special thanks to @princessfbi for helping me out with this!!)
In a matter of seconds, right in the middle of a fucking grocery store, the rug is pulled out from under Buck’s feet. 
Eddie is happily teasing him about the fact that they had to buy another round of onions and garlic to kick off cooking tonight’s meal, because Buck managed to burn their first round – badly.
In Buck’s defence, it wasn’t really his fault. It’s just- Eddie’s wearing that cream coloured sweatshirt and he was looking like sin personified with his sleeves rolled up while chopping vegetables. And Buck simply got a bit too distracted by the way the muscles in Eddie’s arm were moving and by the way his hand was handling the knife – when all of the sudden the smell of burnt onions and garlic assaulted his nose. Okay, maybe the whole thing was Buck’s fault, because apparently he’s so in love with his best friend that he’s reached the level of heart-eyes induced cooking accidents.
But somehow, Buck can’t bring himself to care anymore. His walls have slowly been crumbling, and every day he gets a little bit closer to telling Eddie how he feels about him. 
Right now, there’s a warm pink tinge spreading across Buck’s cheeks.
He’s enduring Eddie’s good natured ribbing as he puts the new pack of onions and garlic on the checkout counter and – he’s happy. He’s looking forward to tonight. Eddie asked him over to try out this new recipe together, and he even insisted on switching out their usual beer for wine because it’s supposed to work better with the meal. Christopher’s currently at summer camp, so there’s only the two of them and Buck is trying really hard to not get ahead of himself and think about how date-shaped this whole evening looks.
Eddie’s phone chimes and he snorts when he looks at it.
“Chris says, he doesn’t believe that it was you who burnt the food, tsk.” He steps next to him, his hand casually finding a home on Buck’s shoulder as leans in to show him Christopher’s message. 
Buck grins (knowing full well he’s gone back into full on heart-eyes-mode) and leans into Eddie’s touch. “Well, it usually is you.”
“Hey, we both know I’m the better cook now.” Before Buck can protest, he adds, “Also, watch what you’re saying, or neither of you is gonna eat my famous Mac n’ Cheese ever again.” 
Buck fakes being hurt. “You’d never!” 
It’s actually Christopher's and his favourite comfort food – one of Linda’s recipes that Eddie has perfected over the course of last year – and it’s not that it's the most elaborate recipe, or even the best thing Eddie can cook. It’s just that it tastes like, well, home. 
The side of Eddie’s mouth twitches. “Try me.”
Buck holds up his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, Chef, shutting up.” 
Eddie laughs out loud, and he’s so close and beautiful and—
The sound mixes with the chuckle from the girl behind the cashier. “You guys are such a cute couple! That makes $3.50, by the way.” 
Buck stops dead in his tracks, like a deer caught in headlights and he can feel Eddie stiffen at his side. He knows the pink tinge on his cheeks has turned into a bright shade of red. 
It’s not the first time someone’s assumed they were a couple, but it’s the first time that Eddie’s present for it – and it’s the first time since Buck has realised that he’s head over heels in love with his best friend. And somehow, he doesn’t know how to react to that assumption now that all the parameters have shifted.
His gaze locks onto the onion and the garlic. He doesn’t dare to look at Eddie because he fears his face might betray him. And even though he was planning on telling him soon, he doesn’t want Eddie to figure it out in the middle of this grocery store in front of someone they don’t even know. 
And then Eddie clears his throat, quickly drops the hand off Buck’s shoulder and nonchalantly offers, “Erm, actually, we’re just friends. Well, best friends, but just friends.” 
And just like that everything shifts from a fairytale into a horror story. Because Eddie doesn’t stumble over the words. He says it so casually, as if it was just another fact and— Buck is so fucking stupid. Why did he think that Eddie had romantic feelings for him? How could he have missed that they were never moving towards the same destination – but rather that the road they’ve been on has long since split, leading them into opposite directions. The only thing Buck is moving towards now is an inevitable crash. 
The girl – Cassie is what it says on her name tag – gnaws on her lip, eyes fluttering to the braided rainbow bracelet on Eddie’s wrist. Christopher made it for him a couple of weeks ago when Eddie came out and he’s been wearing it ever since. 
“I- I’m so sorry for assuming, it’s just- you two…,” she stops, “sorry not my place, I’m gonna stop talking now.” 
And because Buck is an idiot and a masochist, he says, “Ah, don’t worry, you wouldn’t be the first one to assume.” 
And- why?
Eddie’s head whips towards him but Buck doesn't look back. He’s trying to save a little bit of his dignity here, so he forces out a smile (too much teeth) for Cassie, pays, and takes their items. 
They walk out onto the parking lot side by side while a constant stream of ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ plays in Buck’s head. 
He needs to get his shit together before this whole thing becomes too obvious. 
Fortunately, Eddie still seems to be lost in his own thoughts when he slips into the seat next to him, so Buck gratefully takes the little grace period he’s offered and starts the car. For once, he doesn’t try to fill the silence.
Buck gets as far as putting a new round of onions and the garlic into the pan when his luck runs out and Eddie speaks up. 
“Buck?”
The problem is, ever since Eddie started therapy over a year ago, he’s become a lot more attuned not only to his own emotions but also to others. And while Buck knows that Eddie’s always been a person who cares so so much, his big heart has started bleeding into every little interaction with him, now that Eddie lets himself care much more openly – and it’s messing with Buck’s head. Because he sees the way Eddie’s looking at him, head tilted a little, eyes wide open, all attentive and a bit concerned that, even if he can’t quite decipher all of the emotions he catches in Eddie’s eyes, he just feels loved. 
“Yeah?” He tries to smile but it falls short.
Having your heart ripped out one second and having to pretend it didn’t happen the next is, as it turns out, exhausting. The knowledge that he’s going to have to keep pretending is exhausting. Because, there’s no way he’ll tell Eddie how he’s feeling now. There’s no way he'll ruin the best relationship he’s ever had in his life, even if it doesn’t come in the shape he wants. 
Which is exactly why he needs to pull himself together right this second before he does something stupid, like accidentally confess his feelings. He can wallow later.  
“So… people have assumed that we’re a couple?” Eddie asks and if Buck didn’t know any better, the emotion he couldn’t put a name to is nervousness. Which... Weird. 
Buck averts his gaze and sighs, “Erm, yeah, I guess.” 
“How often has this happened?”
“I don’t know. A couple of times? But… like you said-” Buck gestures with his hand and then proceeds to grab the handle of the pan to shake it a little bit too forcefully, “-we’re just friends. Absolutely nothing more. So I don’t know why people are always assuming.”
And, yeah, he did not mean to put that much emphasis on the ‘just’ whatsoever, but he’s so used to his walls being down around Eddie that his unconsciousness apparently hasn’t caught up on the memo yet. Shit, shit, shit-
Buck’s eyes dart upwards again, and Eddie’s looking at him, with his mouth literally shaped like a giant ‘O’.  
“Eddie, I-”
“You’re upset because I said that we’re ‘just friends’?” Eddie asks and Buck doesn’t get why he looks so delighted, when he’s clearly about to pull out the rug from under his feet for the second time today. 
“Eddie-” Buck starts again, helplessly, but the words die on his tongue. 
“Buck, I only said that because… technically, it’s true. At least it was at the time.” Eddie takes a step towards him, “And also because I wasn’t about to have a full blown love confession in the grocery store of all places.” 
For a second, Buck is entirely speechless. His heart stops, stutters and then frantically starts beating again. Did Eddie just-
“Love confession?” He croaks and hope spreads in him, sticky and sweet like honey.  
Eddie flushes, but smiles and Buck’s mouth twitches a little. “Okay, I'd actually planned this for much later tonight, but… People assuming that we’re together – that’s not a coincidence, right? I mean, there’s nothing ‘just’ about our relationship and… I guess, what I’m trying to say is: I love you. I’m in love with you.”
A startled laugh stumbles out of Buck’s mouth, “I, uh, I love you too.”
“Yeah,” Eddie’s smile deepens. “I kinda got that from your reaction.”
And then, Eddie reaches out. His hand trails over Buck’s shoulder and then glides softly to the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. “So, if you’ll have me, I’d really like to be more than ‘just friends’.”
“Hmm, what were you thinking?” Buck whispers.
“I was thinking, boyfriends?”
“Boyfriends,” Buck repeats as he leans into the touch – and this time, he doesn’t have to stop himself from closing the gap. When their lips meet for the first time, it’s like the final puzzle piece is slotting into its rightful place. 
They kiss and kiss, and Buck doesn’t know for how long, until all of a sudden, Eddie’s lips stop moving against his. 
“Is that-” he starts and Buck makes a small sound of protest, which turns into a cough when he smells the distinct odour of burnt food. 
“Ah, fuck, not again.” Buck untangles himself and scrambles over to the stove, taking the pan with the definitely no longer edible onions and garlic off the heat.
As he turns off the stove and opens up the windows, he can’t help but snicker. 
“What?” Eddie asks.
“Just thinking about how embarrassing it would've been to tell all of our friends that we – two firefighters – managed to set the kitchen on fire because we got too caught up in making out.” 
And Eddie laughs – a full belly laugh – throwing his head back even. The laugh turns giddy and he leans in and kisses Buck again. 
“Hey,” he says as his nose brushes against Buck’s.
“Hey.” 
“I love you.” 
And then – right as Buck is about to reciprocate the sentiment – Eddie’s stomach grumbles. Loudly. 
Buck laughs, “And I love you. But, as someone who’s recently been promoted from best friend to boyfriend, and is therefore very concerned with your well-being – maybe we should just order take-out?” 
Eddie’s grin is unbelievably soft. And when he leans back to kiss Buck some more, Buck feels a finger playing with the waistband of his jeans. 
“We should,” Eddie says, “mostly because I know a much better way to spend our time than cooking.” 
And who is Buck to say no to that. 
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