#in the afternoon….when I like to do another shower just to rinse off the Outside…. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starzblvd · 10 months

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Pampering your girlfriend to a soothing bath after a rough day from summers scorching heat then letting her use your hand to get herself off <33

an: modern!ellie, college!ellie, gf!ellie, got this idea while doing my extra long everything shower which originally just started off as fluff but yk, was supposed to post this like 2 weeks ago but then I got slumped with other stuff..anyways Ellie refers to you as angel because I love the pet name so much 🩷

Disgustingly hot was what the temperature is around this time of summer. The heat suffocating you immediately after stepping outside. Ellie curses herself on the drive home when the ac of her red 1989 Ford F-250 decided to stop working on one of the summers hottest days. Hot weather called for a hot tempered Ellie, god it’s the afternoon and it’s still this fucking hot.

She’d walk out of her car with an angry pout of a scowl irritated of the stickiness the sweat induced during her drive home to your shared apartment. Ellie’s skin was covered in a glossy sheen when she’d reach the door, whole day she was stuck dealing with the blistering heat with her lecture halls ac coincidentally broke down too. If one thing were to piss her off in this state she’d be ready to pull a hissy fit. She knocked with urgency to get the relief of cold air, a minute passed and another knock perused, two more minutes and she’s calling out your name slightly banging the door. Ellie reaches for her key from her back pocket jamming the key in loudly when you unlock it before she does greeting her wearing an apologetic smile, “didn’t mean to keep you out, was just fixing a bath for you”

You’d known she was beat from how hot she was the entire day by the spam of texts complaining about everything and anything “I hate this chair it’s so uncomfortable” or “can he talk any fucking faster so we can leave”

Ellie couldn’t be mad when you’d been so sweet waiting for her to come back, letting her shoulders drop their stiff lock allowing you to walk her away the shutting door. “You didn’t have to do all that, im just glad to even get outside that godman place, seriously how do all ac’s suddenly get an idea to break down today,”

You’d notice the glowing gleam layer of sweat she walked in with, after she’s pulling you into her gentle embrace contrasting her tone and expression

“but thank you angel, always so sweet to me”

She was tired and so was her voice, raspier than her typical tone. Couldn’t just leave her in her own when she’s so drained,

“let me do the work for you today”

Ellie’s eyebrows lifted confused to what you’re suggesting but follows your trail nonetheless, as your girlfriend she trusts you.

“just sit down and I’ll bathe you, you know?” You take your seat on the edge of the tub looking at her with such an adoring expression she didn’t hesitate to strip and climb into the tub. Her hair was tied back in effort to combat the heat, you take out the hair tie allowing her hair to fall for you to use a container to pour water over her. A giggle escapes her lips when she shuts her eyes from the water.

She enjoyed how dotting you were to her, enjoyed with the way your fingers move in little circles on her scalp messaging in the lathering shampoo, the little kiss you placed on her forehead after rinsing the pine lavender scented conditioner out.

“We should do this more often, like way more often,” Ellie was completely aloof getting taken care of and content with how loving your touch was, almost made her feel a bit guilty for the idea that was looming over her now, almost. “Yeah?” It’d feel just as peaceful for you to care for her. Reaching over for the body wash Ellie’s hand grasps onto your wrist, wet with small bubbles mixed in from the shampoo.

“you wouldn’t mind for me to use your hand a bit would you angel?” Her voice was softer now, any pent up irritation had washed away by now, looking to you with her slight smirk, the same smirk that’d leave your stomach coiling itself up knowing she only had this look when she’d have another one of her ideas.

“Go ahead,”

Still puzzled she lowers your hand to the water guiding your hand to touch the toned muscles of her torso that stiffed with anticipation. Your touch never failed to excite her no matter how long you’ve been together. Noticing the limpness of your hand Ellie spoke up in type of whisper,

“you can tell me to stop”

Taking the hint of what she was insinuating you slowly shift your fingers open to glide your touch over her warm body,

“No no, I want to keep going,”

You’d coo with all the reassurance she needed. Dragging your hand further down, she caressed the sides of her lips with your finger tips feeling the shock it brung earning a small grunt from her slowly teasing her entrance. Spreading her legs further apart Ellie’s hand adjusted your middle and ring finger onto her exposed folds to start some friction easily sliding them up and down with the mix of her slick and water. All you’d hear was the slow sloshing of water and the small whimpers she muffled through her lips.

She kept her eyes closed concentrating on getting to her high using you. Ellie guides your fingers to soothe her puffy clit only being met with your resistance holding her back, instead to run your fingers anywhere else but her clit.

“thought you were supposed to be helping me,” Ellie let’s out grunting into your ear.

despite her efforts to move you onto her ache you keep prodding her folds, writhing from your neglectful touch, she was so needy for you every second you denied her a rub to give her the release she chased for.

“Thought I was the one supposed to be doing the work for you tonight.”

Ellie was growing tired of the lack of attention she was desperate for, she shoved the two fingers down plunging them inside her, her lips parted allowing her sweet moans to fill the room and your ears.

“we both know you could be doing a better job at that right now angel.”

She couldn’t help herself pushing you deeper into her to touch the spot that always had her unfolding below you. Making her hand jerk faster to pump your fingers quicker to speed up she’d be getting closer to the orgasm her body was pleading for.

“Since you’re so pretty like this I guess I can try harder,” you smiled looking at how the muscles of her arm flexed each time she’d move in and out, you keep your open hand busy by gently rubbing her shoulder whilst bringing your underwater thumb to her clit pressing into her before finally giving in and pacing it into circles.

“cmon cmon cmon, keep going angel please”

Begging and unraveling right before you with a final fast pump and stroke to her clit Ellie’s back straightened and curved into an all familiar arch. Her eyes harshly shutting closed but you wanted to see the eyes you loved so much, lifting the hand from her shoulder to her jaw pulling her face to yours, Ellie’s still wanning off her orgasm by drowning her pace down until she’s finally done sliding you out from herself.

She brought your hand back to surface embracing your hard working fingers with a kiss keeping her hold onto you as Ellie slides down into the tub to just the point where her neck starts.

“you can finish your job now,” she was smiling looking forward to the next time.

#ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie tlou2 #ellie williams #ellie williams fluff #ellie x fem reader #ellie x you #lesbian #wlw #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie smut #ellie the last of us #the last of us #tlou 2 #ellie tlou

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elaci · 3 months

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The Fruits and the Berries

You help Shauna see the sweet beauty that comes from the wilderness, despite the ugly of the past.

crossposted on ao3

Shauna x gn!reader | req rules ⁞ request here

Usually, when Shauna's eyes become stuck on the wild scenery outside, she’s quick to regain control of her mind.

It rarely happens anymore, once a month at most. She will be busy in the kitchen after entertaining your family for lunch, clearing dishes because she insists you don’t do it right. The running sink that she rinses plates in, the cold water against her hands, the breeze that comes through the open window in front of her— all the food shared between loved ones.

She will freeze, if only for a few moments, and within those moments she will experience her every last teenage year again in full. She comes out of it as quickly as she goes in, with nothing but shaking hands to show for the trenches her mind had just sunken into. She will take a breath, one deep breath that fills her lungs with clean warm air, and exhale it all to make room for more.

And when she returns to you, with that closed-lip smile that tells you ‘it’s happened again’, you pull her into a hug and kiss the gentle skin of her cheek and tell her, without words, that you’re there and she’s okay and that’s how it will be until the end of time.

You wish there was more to do. You’d wrench out your heart to replace the blackened parts of hers if you could, offer every last piece of yourself in service to her and rebuilding her love of life.

It’s late one night that Shauna tells you she doesn’t find much beauty in the outside world anymore. She’s fresh out of the shower, sitting between your legs as you comb your fingers through her damp hair.

“I’d stay inside forever if I could,” she hums, resting her cheek against your knee. “Feels like there’s nothing good out there.”

It’s too dark to glance out the window and see much, but even if you could, you doubt you could point out many things that Shauna could watch from afar and find beautiful. The thought pulls at your heart, a loss for the love of life is something you wouldn't wish on a heart as deep as Shaunas. You massage her scalp as she remains lost in thought, and silently put into action a plan to show Shauna at least the little things that make up such a beautiful world.

It’s not until a week later that you finally have the time. Life had gotten in the way of your planning, from work to family gatherings to date nights you wouldn't miss for the world, you’d been lost on a moment to set up. However, Shauna is pulled away one afternoon— she had promised to drop Callie off at a friends on the other side of town and mentioned running some errands on the way home, giving you just enough time to run around the house putting the final touches on what you hope will be something beautiful for the woman you love.

She steps into the home with a tired sigh, rubbing at her eyes as she picks up on the soft tunes of her favourite music being played from the kitchen. She can’t help but smile, curious as to what’s up your sleeve. When she rounds the corner into the kitchen, she catches you just as you are shutting the lid on an old picnic basket you'd pulled from the attic.

“What’s this?” The question comes out a touch more accusatory than she means it to be, but you aren't fazed.

“Date night,” you click the picnic baskets clasps in place and heave it from the countertop. You turn towards your lover, and take in her presence for a moment. “You look beautiful today, you know?”

Shauna frowns, unimpressed. “I’m wearing mom jeans.”

You grin, and twirl your free hand around, gesturing for her to do a spin. She stills for a moment, and then obliges, choking out a laugh at the absurdity of your doting. Shauna twirls, laughs, and laughs some more when you whistle and look at her with such a pure love in your eyes that it's felt in her bones.

And before another word can be spared from her beautiful lips, you’re taking her hand in yours and leading her into the back garden like a high school sweetheart sneaking her out of the house. You wonder, only for a second, whether your love would be so strong had you met in high school, before the woes of the wilderness caused her caution as you lead her out under the sun.

“We can’t eat inside?” She questions, and shrugs when you look at her. “Bugs.”

You don’t speak, but rather lead her into the grass, your shoes abandoned. You walk into the shade of the largest and most beautiful tree of them all, and gesture to the red-and-white picnic blanket already laid down. Shauna lets your hand go as you sit, and she crosses her arms.

“You planned this out?”

“I was a party planner in my past life,” you pat the blanket next to you. “C’mon, hon.”

And because she’s never quite had the heart to keep you waiting, Shauna huffs out a breath of faux resignation, and lowers herself to the ground beside you. Her hair falls over her face as she peers into the picnic basket you unpack, and he can’t fight the smile that blooms.

All of the fruits and berries she loves, wine, bread, cheese. A delicate feast of her favourites— you lay peaches out and fill a ceramic bowl with raspberries and blueberries alike. The dessert bread is paired with compôtes she has yet to try but still eyes when you visit the sunday morning markets. Strawberry wine in glassware gifted by your family for your housewarming party.

There's a sweet silence between you, filled only by the sound of rustling leaves and birdsong. Shauna is lost on words, though she feels in no rush to speak. You hum softly as you finish unpacking the basket, and push a small bowl into her hands.

“Cherries,” she speaks.

“Fresh from,” you pause, “the grocery store.”

Shauna chokes on laughter, smiling down at the bowl of ripe red cherries. She takes a moment of thought, and then looks back at you. “Why’d you do all this?”

You look between her and the bowl, and then over to the house you both call home. It takes a moment to find the right words, but you eventually open your mouth to speak.

“I love you,” you start. “And if you want to shut and lock yourself inside until the end of time, I’ll change the locks whenever they rust and drive spikes into the sidewalk so no one bothers us. But, I look around and I see the same beauty in the world that I see in you, and it truly breaks my heart to know you can’t see it too. I’d like more evenings under the sun with you, until we’re too old to sit on the grass and too grumpy to ignore the bugs. You have taught me so many things about the world, Shauna. I hope you’ll let me teach you about the stupid fruits and the stupid berries and how much I love them.”

The sun lowers a little, pulled to the horizon line on clockwork. It casts a beautiful gold over Shauna, and animates the way she looks at you. Right into your soul, she lays claim to every inch of your heart, and you allow it all the same.

Shauna nods. “Okay,” she says. “Okay.”

You reach over and run a hand through Shauna's hair, pulling it out of her face and in turn drifting closer to her. Your lips meet in a sweet symphony of wine and berries and a promise for another evening spent like this— learning to love the land and the hand that guides you through it. The kiss is long, and tender, and so full of love you need no picnic to sate your appetite.

And when you pull away, you have to wipe a tear from her cheek. You do so without thought, as you always will. You eat, and laugh, and kiss, and drink until all the berries taste the same and the sun sets entirely. When you finally decide to retire inside, leaving the mess of your ministries for sober you to pick up in the morning, Shauna is the one to lead you inside. You trip over your own feet a few times, and nearly stand on a jar or two, but make it inside with tired eyes and fuzzy brains.

Shauna slides the door shut, and looks at you. “Thank you,” she says. “I love you.”

And she locks the door, only until morning.

yellowjackets masterlist

#shauna shipman x reader #yellowjackets x reader #yj x reader #shauna sadecki x reader #shauna shipman #yellowjackets imagine

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imnotoverlyobsessive · 10 months

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In Your Dreams

Moodboard by @softhecreator

Chapter Six: You Got Inside My Head & Set A Fire There Instead

AO3 info one two three four five six seven epilogue

All my work is 18+.

Maybe I know somewhere deep in my soul that love never lasts, and we’ve got to find other ways to make it alone or keep a straight face. And I’ve always lived like this; keeping a comfortable distance, and up until now I had sworn to myself that I’m content with loneliness, ‘cause none of it was ever worth the risk.- Paramore, The Only Exception

Lea really hadn’t meant to stick around for so long. She’d figured that once he’d, uhhh, ‘claimed’ her or whatever, that would be enough, that she’d be able to go back to her shared shoebox apartment with its windows all facing brick walls and the kitchen she couldn’t turn around in and the doors that didn’t stay closed and her cold bed, to her rapidly increasing student loan debt and her crippling anxiety and the constant, neverending sense that something about her life was wrong.

In any case, she had intended to go home once Tim was in the clear.

She was showering the following afternoon, staring out the window that overlooked the city. Water droplets from the shower dripped down the glass, and Lea sighed, tilting her head back to finish rinsing her hair and wondering how in the hell she was gonna go back home after all this.

“Well that’s a sight I could get used to.”

She damn near jumped a foot in the air at Tim’s voice echoing off the marble floors, immediately rushing to hide behind the wall of the large shower.

He laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to startle you, I was just appreciating the view!”

Lea blinked rapidly, trying to process what was happening. She still hadn’t fully processed the night before, and here she was, butt naked, totally regretting using his shower rather than one of the ones in the guest rooms. He had fuckin’ five of them, so it wasn’t like there wasn’t space.

After several bests of silence, the only sound the running water from the shower, he softly said, “Are you afraid of me?”

Lea jolted towards the clear shower door, looking at him around the corner of the wall. “Of course not!” she squeaked, eyes wide.

He looked back at her, his gaze sad. “Then why are you hiding from me?”

She glanced down briefly at his body, only just now noticing his nudity. “I just…” She gulped. “I just feel weird about you, like. Seeing me this way, y’know?”

Frowning outright then, Tim asked, “I’ll admit I’m pretty casual about being naked, living as an incubus for several thousand years will do that, but why on earth would you be shy with me?” When she didn’t answer right away, he added, “I’ll respect your feelings, don’t get me wrong, I just— you’re my mate, we had sex a few hours ago, and I legitimately cannot fathom why you’d feel weird. Will you please help me understand?”

“I’m… not used to being naked in front of anyone,” she admitted softly, standing back upright to lean against the wall of the shower, hidden from him again. “Like, okay, how often do you have to, y’know. Feed?”

There were a few seconds of silence as he considered this. “I dunno. Every few weeks, maybe?”

“Right,” Lea confirmed her understanding, “and do you feed from a different woman every time?”

“Usually, yeah,” he said slowly, as if he were trying to figure out where she was going with this.

“And that’s even when you were in relationships?”

He was silent for a few moments again. “I can only feed from humans, and I haven’t been involved with one romantically in I don’t even know how long—centuries, at the very least, maybe longer—, so I had to… with other women.”

“You were with another human before?”

“Yes.”

“Who was she?”

“Her name was Alane.”

Lea’s heart thudded in her chest.

“Did you love her?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

He sighed, and she heard him slide down the outside wall of the shower.

“I’ll have to tell you eventually, I guess.”

“You don’t have to,” she assured him hurriedly.

“No, you need to know.” A deep breath. “She was a Gaul, captured by Romans. I knew what they did to women, so I went to help. No clue why, I’m fucking useless with that kinda thing, but I went to help. But when I got there…” He let out a hoarse laugh. “She’d killed two of them and was working on a third.”

“Jesus,” Lea muttered.

“Totally covered in blood,” he went on, “I think she would’ve tried to kill me, too, if I hadn’t blurted some random shit out in French. Gave her enough pause to let me help her escape, I guess.”

“Then… why aren’t you with her now?” Lea asked softly, hoping he wouldn’t notice the quiver in her voice.

“We were together for a few human lifetimes,” he admitted. “We were careful—we were so fucking careful—but birth control wasn’t an exact science then, and, well… I told you that most women can’t stay pregnant with an incubus’ baby.” Another snort. “Stubborn girl—she was a lot like you that way, actually; maybe that’s what attracted to me to her in the first place, was her similarities to my future mate—refused to let me get it flushed out of her. I told her, I told her she couldn’t survive it, but she was damned and determined to try anyway.”

“And then?” she asked shakily.

“She died.” His voice was soft, almost hesitant. Regretful. “She died because she loved me.”

Despite the rather intense jealousy she was feeling, her heart ached for the pain he’d been through. It was clear he blamed himself for Alane’s death.

Taking a deep breath and steeling herself, Lea reached out and opened the shower door. The hot water was beating against her skin, the sound of it almost drowning her out when she whispered, “You can come in, too.” A slight hesitation. “If— if you want, I mean.”

There was silence for a few long moments before she heard him stand, and then he stepped into the shower.

His hair was tousled from sleep, but his skin wasn’t sallow anymore; the bags under his eyes were gone, too. He was still a bit thinner than she knew was normal for him, but he definitely looked better. Healthier.

He closed the door behind him, gazing down at her and not taking his eyes off hers. “It wasn’t your fault, Tim.” He grimaced, so she reiterated, “It was not your fault. It wasn’t your fault she got pregnant. It was an accident. It wasn’t your fault that she chose to continue the pregnancy, either. None of it was your fault.”

He wasn’t grimacing anymore, just kinda studying her expression. “You aren’t jealous?” He looked almost disappointed, the prick.

“I never said I wasn’t jealous,” Lea admitted slowly, “but I don’t want you to blame yourself for something that’s not your fault. I don’t like seeing you in pain.”

A small, soft smile twitched at the corners of his lips, and he took a step closer to her, taking one of her hands in his. “Everything’s less painful when I look at you,” he murmured. “Hearing your voice, seeing you smile, touching your skin— it sets me at ease. Even when I was close to death, whenever you were next to me, it felt like everything would be alright.”

Tears filled her eyes at that, and she looked away. “Tim…”

“I think,” he went on in that soft, sweet voice, “that I could conquer the world if you held my hand while I did it.” After a moment, he added, “Plus, you’re jealous, it’s very obvious, and it’s awesome—“

Lea flushed, crossing her arms over her breasts with a grumble of, “Like you wouldn’t be jealous, too, demon boy.”

“Psh,” he scoffed, waving his hand dismissively. “You kidding? I’m jealous of everyone that’s so much as looked at you.”

“You’re a dork,” she muttered, fighting off a smile.

“Maybe,” he shrugged. “Or maybe I just love you.”

She couldn’t stop herself from smiling then.

“Are you done showering?” he asked quietly.

Lea blinked, surprised at the question. “I should probably rinse my hair again. Might still have conditioner in it.”

He stepped closer, and her heart lurched up into her throat at the anticipation of feeling his skin against hers again, but he just reached behind her and took the handheld shower nozzle.

“Turn around.” It was a soft, gentle command, but it was a command nonetheless. Steadfastly ignoring the fluttering in her abdomen, she obeyed, turning to face the marble tiles of the wall and adjusting her hair so it fell in a wave of dark red curls down her back.

“Lean your head back,” he told her gently. She did so, keeping her eyes shut, and he held the nozzle close to her scalp and ran his fingers through her hair, careful not to miss anything. “Did you comb your hair out already?”

“Y— yeah,” she mumbled, pointing vaguely in the direction of the wide-tooth comb that sat on the ledge with the various shower-related items.

He hummed before continuing to rinse out her hair in silence.

Once he was done, he leaned forward to replace the shower nozzle again, and the one on the ceiling began to cascade down onto them once more. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around her so her back was against his chest. And stomach, too, because he was a tall bastard.

Tim’s arms were around her waist, just below her breasts, and his thumb brushed the underside of one of them.

Lea gulped anxiously, wishing he’d touch her fully, grab her breast the way he’d done the night before. “How are you, uh… how are you feeling?”

“What d’you mean?” he mumbled into her hair.

“Well, you almost died yesterday,” she said slowly. “So, how are you feeling?”

His arms tightened around her. “I’m alive. You’re here. I’m alive because you’re here. So I’m doing pretty fuckin’ awesome, I’d say.”

She reached up and brushed her hand gently over one of his, lacing their fingers together.

“I’m glad you’re okay.”

She felt him shrug. “I wasn’t expecting to be, but I’m not gonna lie and say I’m not thrilled about you loving me.” He paused momentarily before admitting, “And also that you let me fuck you. That was pretty great.”

He moved her hair to one side and started kissing her neck then, and she squeaked in surprise. “Are you, uh… are you hungry again? Not— not for food, I mean, but like, for… y’know…”

She could hear the smirk in his voice, feel it against the damp skin of her neck. “I only need to feed every few weeks,” he reminded her. “However, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to fuck you again, because I very much do. It’s less about my biological need for it and more about my love for my incredibly sexy mate and the natural desire I have to watch said mate’s tits bounce as I fuck her until she cums on my cock.”

Lea’s face flamed, the sensation intensifying further when she realized he was hard behind her.

“But,” he was saying, “we don’t have to. I will never try to make you or convince you to do anything you don’t wanna do.”

“I know,” she said, tightening her fingers over his. “You almost died ‘cause you didn’t wanna risk guilting me.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want you,” he murmured, one of his hands sliding down her side to grasp her hip firmly. “God do I want you.”

“Tim,” she exhaled, leaning back against his chest.

“Baby.” His voice was hoarse, desperate, and he went on, “Do you want that? I won’t ask you to if you don’t want it, but if you do…”

Flushing, she looked at her feet and said, “Maybe we could… go back to bed?”

“If you want.” He shrugged before gesturing to the windows. “The windows are tinted, though. No one can see in; they look completely black from outside.”

She blinked rapidly, eyes wide. “Oh?”

“Mhm,” Tim confirmed, taking her hand in his. “So why don’t you just jump up here—“ he guided her to the windowsill, encouraging her to sit down. “—And spread your legs for me?”

“Are you sure you wanna—“

“Lea,” he cut her off, voice serious, “knowing you want me, I think that I cannot possibly handle the prospect of not having you.”

“O— okay,” she managed.

“Good girl,” he praised with a smirk, stepping between her legs, his hands on her knees. “Gonna make you feel good, baby.” He reached between them, gripping his dick and guiding it to her entrance, pressing against her.

Lea bit her lip, whimpering. “Please, Tim, I can’t—“

“Can’t what, sweetheart?” he crooned gently, rubbing his cock up and down her folds teasingly. “Tell me what you want.”

Embarrassment gone, she begged, “Want it, want you, want you inside me—“

“Good girl,” he told her again before sliding into her.

She moaned, her head falling back against the glass of the window.

“So fuckin’ tight,” he grunted, pulling out briefly before slamming back in.

He was looking down at her, and she marveled at how gorgeous he was; the city lights behind her were glinting off his jawline and cheekbones and those red fucking eyes—god, he was feeding from her again, he was feeding from her again—, and his hair hung in soaked curls, longer than it usually was so it nearly brushed his shoulders, water droplets falling from the tips of the strands and onto his bare skin.

It was looking at him, at how insanely, ridiculously, unfairly sexy he was, that caused a desperate, fervent need to touch him to overtake her. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down to kiss her. He obliged, slanting his lips over hers with a startling amount of ferocity, but it was short-lived because then he was trailing kisses down the column of her throat before taking the tender skin between his teeth and sucking.

Moaning, she threaded her fingers through his hair, and he groaned at the sound she’d made, thrusting in again. “Made for me,” he grunted against her damp skin. “This pussy was fuckin’ made for me.”

Her fingers tightened around his curls, holding him against her neck as he repeatedly kissed the bruise he’d given her. “Feels— feels good,” she gasped out, spreading her legs wider, wanting him to fuck her senseless, fuck her until she couldn’t walk or move or breathe.

Tim righted himself again, leaning his forehead against hers, his red eyes boring into hers, pinning her there against the window as if each snap of his hips didn’t have the same effect. “You like it?” he wanted to know, the words an exhalation brushing against her lips. “You like it when I fuck you?”

Nodding jerkily, Lea arched into his touch when he reached down to grasp one of her breasts, tugging sharply on the nipple. “I like it,” she admitted, her voice breathless. “God, please don’t stop—“

His hips jackhammered against her, and he slid one hand up to cup her neck, the one on her breast moving to grasp her hip so as to hold her in place. “No god here, baby,” he muttered, stroking her skin affectionately. “Just you and me.”

Something about this statement made her feel as if she had the sun inside her, starlight under her skin, and she wanted nothing more than to keep him there, to stay there with him, safe in his apartment, their own little world. Nothing existed outside of what they had together, outside of what he was giving her, of what she was giving him. It was just the two of them, and she felt as if as long as he was touching her, nothing else ever could.

It was quiet and unprompted when she gasped out, “I love you. I love you, Tim.”

The hand he had on her neck slid up to her cheek, and he leaned down, kissing her with desperation equal to that of his thrusts into her. “I love you, too,” he said against her lips, into her mouth. “More than anything. You’re everything, Lea. Everything.”

She could’ve sworn that the sun inside her shone through at that, and if anyone looked at her, they’d go blind from it. Instead of responding, she wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He let her, allowing her to kiss him as much as she wanted, returning her kiss with fervor. He took her lower lip between his teeth and tugged on it lightly, making her moan and close her eyes.

“No,” he growled when he released her lip. “Look at me. Look at me. I want you to see who’s fucking you, who’s making you feel like this. I don’t want you to ever forget.”

Lea opened her eyes, difficult as it was, and gasped out, “Could never forget you. Love you too much and you feel too good, fuck but you feel so good—“

His lips quirked into a smile against hers. “Yeah?” He kissed her again, the hand on her hip tightening, his fingers digging into her flesh. “Feels good when I give it to you, baby?”

“Mhm,” she whimpered, undulating her hips as best she could despite being seated and pressed up against the window. “More, I want more, please.”

“Such a polite request,” he mused, leaning down to kiss the bruises he’d left on her throat. “You know I’d never refuse you, don’t you? My sweet girl, all mine.”

He gave a particularly harsh thrust at that, and she moaned loudly in delight, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. “‘m yours,” she agreed immediately. “Yours, Tim, all yours— fuck—“

“Good girl,” he groaned, thrusting into her again. “Been waiting all my life for this, sweetheart, all my life for you, for your perfect little pussy, all for me, fuckin’ made for me, baby, made to take this cock.”

Something about what he was saying—babbling, if she were honest—made the heat that was already swirling in her abdomen to grow, intensifying further and spreading throughout her body, a tingling sensation that made her feel like she was burning, like there was fire beneath her skin, in her veins. She was made for him. She was his, she wanted to be his, to belong to him. How could she not, when belonging to him felt so good?

“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, “can I make you cum? I wanna make you cum. I can feel the way you’re clenching around me, I know you want it, I can tell, just let me—“

“Yes,” she cut him off without hesitation. “Yes, you can make me cum, yes yes yes yes yes—“

“Fuck,” Tim grunted, snaking a hand between them to where they were joined and finding her clit with practiced ease. He may not have had much experience with her body specifically, but he knew exactly what to do anyway, how to make her quiver and shake and scream. Plus, by the time he brushed his fingertips over her clit, she was so turned on—by the way he was fucking her, the way he looked when he fucked her, how he was looking at her, the things he said as he pounded into her relentlessly, everything—that his touch had her moaning loudly, her toes curling. She was already so fucking close and he’d barely started stimulating her. “So good for me, sweetheart,” he groaned in her ear. “Give me those pretty little noises, baby, c’mon. Wanna hear you say my name.”

“Tim,” she moaned desperately. “Oh fuck, Tim, I’m gonna— I’m—”

“That’s it,” he encouraged gently, rubbing her clit faster. “Give it to me, Lea. Cum on my cock, wanna feel it.” When she moaned wordlessly—though his name could probably be deciphered if one tried hard enough—and tightened her legs around his waist, her core clenched down on him, and then a few more swipes to her clit combined with punishing thrusts had her bursting apart at the seams.

He fucked her through her orgasm, his eyes such a bright shade of red they almost glowed. Still, once it had ended, he didn’t stop rubbing at her, instead growling into her neck, “I want another. Gimme another, sweetheart.”

Lea’s pulse was thrumming in her clit already, so it wasn’t exactly a difficult feat to manage. He kissed her neck wetly, murmuring words she couldn’t quite hear into her skin. She couldn’t seem to formulate any speech at all, only capable of desperate, high-pitched keens of, “Ah, ah, ah, unh—” over and over again until his touch sent her over the edge a second time.

“Gonna fill you up, baby,” he grunted. “So pretty when you fall apart, gonna fill you with my cum, Lea, fill this sweet little pussy up, love you so much, baby, so fuckin’ much, fuckin’ take it—”

She could do nothing but whimper and cling to him, yearning for him to cum inside her, to fill her exactly as he was promising to.

And then he did, release finding him with an almost pained-sounding moan of her name.

Her head was buzzing, her ears were ringing, and the room—the shower, they were still in the shower—was wobbling. So when he panted against her neck for a few minutes before pulling back to kiss her briefly and step away, she nearly collapsed to the marble tiles of the shower floor.

Tim caught her, pulling her close with one arm and reaching to turn the shower off with the other. “‘s okay, baby,” he murmured, pressing a sweet, gentle kiss to her scalp. “Let’s get you back in bed, okay?”

“O— okay,” she mumbled, her voice sounding groggy even to her own ears.

Tim opened the shower door and grabbed a towel that was hanging on the rod and drying her off, having her lean against the wall as he did so.

Was sex always so exhausting, or was it just her? Maybe it was ‘cause she had no experience prior to him.

He hung the towel back up and took her hand again. “Do you want me to carry you, sweetheart?”

“No,” Lea assured him, horrified at the thought even through her exhaustion. “I can walk.”

“Okay,” he agreed, though he sounded a bit reluctant, “I’m gonna be right here, so fall against me if you need to.”

She hummed in acknowledgment as they made their way out of the bathroom and back to bed. He pulled the covers up over her and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I’m gonna go make you some food, okay?”

“Mmkay,” she mumbled.

And then she was dead to the world.

Tim’s sweet, gentle voice eased her into wakefulness.

“Lea, sweetheart,” he said, a hand on her shoulder.

“Mmf,” she grunted into the pillow.

“I brought you some food,” he told her. “An omelet with hashbrowns and bacon. Extra crispy, just how you like it.”

The guy knew her well, he really did. But she was so tired.

“You’ll feel much better after you eat,” he promised. “Cmon, baby. Will you sit up for me?”

She groaned, pushing herself up onto her palms. “There you go, sweetheart,” Tim encouraged. “God, you’re so cute when you’re tired.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t be this tired,” she grumbled in annoyance, tucking the blankets under her arms so her chest was covered. “I just woke up a little while ago.”

Tim blushed, settling the tray of food in her lap. “It’s, uh… it’s an incubus thing. You’re tired because I’ve consumed your energy. I’m sorry. I’d avoid it if I could.”

“Oh,” Lea said with a hum, picking up her knife and fork. “It’s okay. If the consequence of you not starving is me being tired, I don’t mind.”

“You’re a fuckin’ saint,” he muttered, sitting down on the bed next to her.

She let out an inelegant snort. “You make me tired and then provide me with food. Not gonna complain about it.”

“I absolutely do not deserve you.”

Lea glanced up at him from her meal. “You literally brought me breakfast in bed.”

“Yeah, but—“

“Don’t care,” she cut him off. “You’re being sweet. No complaints.” She smiled softly at him in reassurance.

He took her hand, holding it tightly in his. “Okay.”

He didn’t let go of her hand the entire time she was eating.

No, really. She really hadn’t meant to stay so long. She’d ended up staying for a month and a half, though. But in her defense, Tim was really sexy, and he was being so wonderful to her, and she loved him so much.

It was hard to reconcile with the fact that all of it was temporary, that she’d have to return to her boring, shoebox apartment and her day job.

And then she missed her period.

But it was nothing to worry about, right? There was no reason for her to be concerned. She was on birth control, had been for years. She’d missed periods before, usually when she was stressed. It was probably the next semester looming over her head.

Tim was ordering some delivery from the grocery store—he rarely went out for such things himself; a privacy concern, he’d said—and asked her if she needed anything.

He knew what sort of food she liked, so that wasn’t a concern. However, even if her period was late, she’d definitely be getting it soon.

“Uh, yeah,” she told him when he asked what she needed. “Some tampons, I think.” She paused. “And some Midol. And a heating pad.”

He blinked, raising his eyebrows in surprise. “Uh… okay, but why?”

She looked at him skeptically. “Why do you think? I’m about to get my period. It’s a little late, so it should be coming any day now.”

He frowned outright at that. “Um, Lea. There’s a reason your period is late.”

She hummed in acknowledgment, hunting through the drawer in his closet he’d temporarily dedicated to her clothes for a fresh pair of panties. “Stress about school, most likely.”

“No,” he said slowly. “It likely won’t be coming at all.”

She paused, turning around to face him. “Why not?”

“Because… because you’re almost certainly pregnant.”

Tag list

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To be added, please ask 💗

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itsaash · 7 months

Text

Hamptons cubs AU: monster

This is the second last part!! Wild. Thanks to @noots-fic-fests and @lumosinlove and to everyone who has been reading.

He was nervous and excited for the big day, Leo’s food being photographed and the magazine editor trying his recipes. He wanted to help and maybe also wanted to hide. But, no, they didn’t know he had heard them, and after a nice evening all together and some sleep, he felt less mortified. Honestly, he was sad. They’d be leaving tonight, after the dinner. It was the last night that he’d have friends in his house and the spectre of a quiet week hung over him. He let the rhythm of his steps on the boardwalk lull him and the bad feelings slowly faded away. He’d help Leo, do anything he can to make the dinner a success, and see Leo again in a few short days. Finn loved how nothing seemed as bad after a run.

He walked through the kitchen to Logan making coffees.

“Hiho, Logan,” Finn said, chugging some water.

“You’ve already exercised? Gross,” Logan said. His hair was still sleep mussed and his voice was scratchy. “I had to promise Leo coffee in bed to convince him to not make another practice batch of boudin before this afternoon.”

Finn laughed. “Good man, and good luck,” he said with a salute and left the room to shower. He figured he should leave Leo and Logan alone, Logan knew how to support Leo better than he ever could. He hit the doorframe with his palm as he passed under it, feeling unsettled.

The nervous energy in the house was high the rest of the morning. Haley and Ramsey cleaned, Finn tried to work while Leo did the first steps of the boudin balls. He chopped onion and peppers and jalapeños into small cubes. Finn found himself in awe, just watching the knife move in meticulous motions, leaving each ingredient perfectly shaped. Leo went through the steps that even Finn was becoming familiar with, adding the meat and spices, setting the pot to simmer, having Logan taste it and adjust. Finn managed to work a bit while the pot was simmering, the smell started to spread through the air. He kept glancing outside, where Logan had led Leo by the hand to sit in the shade while he could. The mixture got processed and then they all ate lunch together, Leo serving the coleslaw he had made the day before, rice, and some of the boudin that hadn’t gone into the fridge to be made into balls. Finn set to washing the dishes so the kitchen would be ready when it was time to prep for Pandora to arrive. When they came back in, Leo took the batch out from the fridge and he had his game face on, which made Finn's heart expand in earnestness.

“Holy fuck I forgot the parsley,” Leo said, under his breath and in horror. Finn and Logan both snapped their heads up.

“Quoi?” Logan said, in shock.

“Ok, ok, you can mix it in still, right? Cut it super fine and mix it in?” Fine offered, shaking off his wet hands.

Leo was already moving to the fridge to get the fresh parsley. “Yeah, yeah, ok, shit, how could I forget this?”

Logan ran a hand up and down his back as he stood behind him.

“It’s ok love, you’re doing so much and it’s all going to be amazing. We can fix this.”

Leo nodded like a puppet and set to chopping the parsley.

He cut himself.

He had used those knives all week, and he was a professional. He was moving quickly, but he always cut safely. But shit happens, and maybe mercury was retrograding, or maybe it was fate or just bad fucking luck, but today was just the day that he happened to cut himself. It wasn’t good.

He stood in silence for a long second before the pain hit, in shock. When Leo gasped and swore in pain both Logan and Finn jumped towards him. Finn saw the blood and ran for the first aid kit in the bathroom, when he got back Logan had Leo’s hand wrapped in paper towel, still standing in the same spot he had been chopping.

“Ok Leo, it’s ok, just over here, ok? We’ve got you,” Finn led Leo to the sink. He peeled away the red paper towel and had Leo do a quick rinse under cold water so they could see the damage. Finn felt a wave of relief, the end of a finger was cut, but it wasn’t gaping or gushing and with a soft murmured question and a wince of pain, Leo agreed he could move his finger. Finn took some gauze from the kit and pressed it to Leo’s finger.

“Pressure. 5 minutes, no peeking. Just hold it.” Leo nodded, his blue eyes looking big and shiny. Finn wrapped his hand around both of Leo’s. “It’s ok, it’s going to be ok.”

Logan pushed a stool over to them, and Leo sat down into it and closed his eyes for a long second. One tear trailed down his cheek and Finn followed its progress raptly all the way down to his jaw.

“Fuck me,” Leo said and opened his eyes. Finn’s heart squeezed at the worry in his eyes.

“No, no, Leo, it’s ok. We’ll help. It’ll stop bleeding soon, and we’ll help you. We’re still getting you in that magazine.”

Logan had appeared at Leo’s side and pressed his body into the side of Leo’s. Leo tilted his head over, resting on Logan’s chest, and Finn was very aware that he was still holding Leo’s hand, but he didn’t let go.

“You stay here, soleil, I’ll clean up, c'est bon. Finn, more paper towels and some sort of cleaner?”

“Uh, some regular cleaner under the sink here, but I think the powerful stuff and more paper towels are in the closet upstairs.” He started to turn, but Logan waved him off.

“Ouais, I’ll find them,” he said, and hurried out of the kitchen.

Leo took a shaky breath and Finn brought his other hand up to Leo’s forearm and stepped closer.

“Are you ok? How much does it hurt?”

“It hurts. I’m more so mad at myself, why today?” Leo moaned, dropping his head back in frustration. “I wanted today to be perfect.”

“Hey, hey, Le, we are going to help you. I’ll cut the parsley. You can direct us. We’ve seen you do this, we can help. And you’ll stop bleeding and you’ll be able to do some of the steps later today. It’s all still good.” Fines was rubbing Leo’s arm as he spoke, trying to soothe him.

“Yeah, yeah ok, thanks Finn,” Leo said through a sigh and brought his head back down. And suddenly, they were much closer together than they had been. Leo’s face was so close, closer than Finn had ever seen it. His eyes were bright, and there were a few wet tracks down his cheeks. Freckles scattered lightly over his cheeks and there was the grey patch of hair at his forehead, blending in with the rest of his blond curls. Their eyes locked together for a long, heart thumping moment. Finn’s hand moved without thought, and brushed the hair back from Leo’s face. He was even closer now, so close. Finn could feel the heat coming off of Leo’s body and noticed for the first time he was standing between Leo’s legs. How had he not realised that before? He felt blood rush to his ears, a flush rising to his neck. He saw Leo’s eyes dart down to his lips and then they were even closer together, Finn could feel Leo’s shallow breaths through the small space between them.

“Found them!” Logan said, entering the kitchen. Finn jumped and straightened, but managed to not bolt, some part of his traitorous brain thankfully remembering he had Leo’s injured hand wrapped in his.

“Awesome, Tremzy,” Finn said, trying to sound normal, whatever the fuck normal would even mean amidst this fucking soap opera of a day.

“Has it stopped bleeding yet?” Logan asked as he sprayed and wiped the counter and floor.

“2 more minutes of compression before we check,” Finn said. He was thankful he had a reason to have a shaky voice. Leo was quiet, was just looking at him. “Can you grab Leo a tylenol when you’re done there, Tremz? From that cabinet there?”

Logan tossed the dirty cleaning supplies and got the tylenol, joined Leo and Finn. He stroked Leo’s hair as Finn just had been, and Finn felt his heart squeeze in guilt. Leo was Logan’s boyfriend. He was being a monster. He had to stop this.

“We’re going to need more parsley, right?” Finn asked, voice high. “I know where it is in the garden, I’ll be back.” And he finally let go of Leo’s hand, gently, letting Logan take it instead, and fled outside.

Before going back inside, Finn gathered himself for what felt like the 100th time that week. Why couldn’t his stupid body remember that the two of them were already together? It had been a good week, but also such a confusing one. He put the parsley to his nose and inhaled the savoury scent, using it to distract himself and focus. Leo was inside fucking bleeding and needed his help. He had to go help and make this day happen, for Leo.

So he slid the door open and went into the kitchen, which undeniably smelled amazing, although now with more than a hint of cleaner.

“You ok Leo?” Seeing him sitting on the stool, Logan between his legs now, his forehead resting on Logan’s chest, it was easy to just focus on what needed to be done. “Has it stopped bleeding?”

Leo tilted his head up at him. His face glistened with sweat and tears. “Yeah, it’s getting there. Just mad at myself.”

“Non, it’s not your fault and I don’t want to hear you say it is,” Logan said into Leo’s hair.

“Want me to chop this?” Finn asked, holding up the parsley.

“Yeah, thanks so much Finn, you’re a lifesaver.” Finn took a step towards the cutting board and Leo spoke again. “Actually, you could put it in the little smoothie blender. It’ll get tiny and then no one has to use knives again.”

“You sure? I can do it slow and steady?” Finn said.

“I’m sure, the blender will get it nice and small.”

So Finn processed the parsley and mixed it carefully into the boudin and put it all back in the fridge.

“D’accord, that has to sit for awhile yet? And there’s time. Let’s get your finger wrapped up.” Logan carefully unwrapped the digit and used a butterfly bandage, gauze, and a finger bandaid. He kissed the tip of each of Leo’s uninjured fingers and raised Leo’s hand above his head. Leo kept his arm up as Logan leaned in for a soft but deep kiss. “We’re ok, it’s ok,” he murmured. Finn busied himself cleaning up the first aid kit while Logan led Leo to the couch. Finn brought Leo a glass of iced tea and then turned back to his notes, not looking at how Logan and Leo’s hair mixed and contrasted when their heads were tilted together.

~~~~~~~

Like they were professional athletes at a starting line, at 2:00 the final preparations began. Finn’s parents vacated the area, and Logan and Finn helped Leo gather the ingredients from the fridge and pantry.

“Put on some music, Harzy?” Leo asked. “Give us something motivational or optimistic or even full on delusional, cause we have to get this done.”

They all laughed when the first bars of eye of the tiger started, so Finn let the song keep playing.

“Ok love, so you can’t use your left hand as your wet hand for the egg dipping, right? I think Finn and I can manage rolling the balls and dipping them in the egg and breadcrumbs? And you can probably manage frying them with one hand?” Logan said.

“You know the steps?” Leo said, impressed.

“Leo,” Finn laughed. “Do you know how many times you’ve made these this week? Ok I’m on egg, you take the breadcrumbs, Tremzy.”

And so they did. Finn formed the balls, Leo sitting across from them and approving the size and shape of each before he would dip the ball in egg and then place it into the dish with bread crumbs in it. Logan would shower it in breadcrumbs and line them up on a tray. A pot of oil was starting to sizzle on the stove. Logan and Finn gave each other an eggy and crumby high five when all the balls were coated and lined, and laughed as they cleaned up the space for Leo to start frying. After Leo struggled with the first few, they found another pattern of Finn helping to stabilise the ball onto a slotted spoon that Leo used to slowly lower them into the oil, and Logan had a paper towel and cooling rack lined tray right beside Leo to roll the balls off onto. Leo hardly needed to take a step, and their five hands worked in tandem, like a coordinated dance, music playing in the background and the trees waving through the window, for nearly an hour while they fried all the boudin balls.

Leo laughed in relief when he set the last one on the cooling tray. “Wow, that was probably ridiculous to watch, but we make a good team.” He took Logan under his arm and gave Finn a gentle fist bump with the other. “I appreciate y’all helping me.”

“Nothing else we’d rather do,” Logan said. “What’s next?”

Leo rolled his shoulders back, thinking. “Plate the coleslaw into one of the pretty pottery bowls, grill the veg, thank the lord they’re already chopped, cut the cornbread into cute squares and plate them, plate the boudin balls and the sauce, and I think that’s it.”

Finn shook his head, laughing. “I want to eat all of it right now,” he clapped his hands together. “Ok, chop chop then!”

Leo levelled him with a serious look. “No chopping jokes, thank you very much.”

Finn rested his hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “Ok, no problem. I’ll cut it out.”

Logan and Leo both groaned. “I’ll do dishes and get the stuff from the fridge,” Logan said with an eye roll.

“I’ll get the veggies all out to the barbeque, and then come back in and cut the bread,” Finn laughed.

“No, I want to cut the cornbread. I’m fine, I can do it,” Leo protested. Finn agreed, reluctantly and they all set to their tasks. Leo supervised and advised and chose which dishes to use, and set a few more aside in case the photographer wanted options, and it was generally organised chaos until everything was sitting arrayed on the kitchen island and they stood there proudly, nothing left to do.

“Leo,” Finn sighed. “It smells and looks so good. I can’t even believe we have to wait for the pictures to be done to get to eat it all.”

Leo just laughed and stretched his arms above his head. “I’m so nervous, and I can’t smell anything anymore. What if it’s all gross,” he groaned. Logan shook his head and shoved him towards the door, both of them going upstairs to change into fresh clothes.

Pandora arrived like a summer breeze, warm and airy and kind. She exclaimed over the smells and the house and the view. She started clicking photos and jotting down notes about the recipes almost the minute she arrived. Finn and Logan retreated to the dining table to give them space, and just watched Leo describe the food animatedly, watched him and Pandora arrange and rearrange the dishes. Moving them into and out of the dappled light coming through the windows. Beside the pretty backsplash, on the wood floor, then brought some of the dishes outside to photograph with a natural background.

Logan scooted his chair right beside Finn’s. “Look at him smile, he’s so happy,” he sighed.

Finn smiled back, responding to Logan’s bright smile. “Yeah, he’s really really good at this.”

“Ouais, he’s just so good overall? He’s amazing. I’m so lucky.”

“Yeah, he’s the best,” Finn agreed, the words so true he hadn’t thought to hold them back until they were out. He turned to Logan with a moment of worry that Logan wouldn’t like him saying that. But Logan was just looking at him softly.

“You’re pretty amazing too, Finn. Thank you so much for this week. It’s been so nice, to be somewhere this beautiful, this chill, with Leo,” he gestured out the door, then turned back to Finn, “with you.”

Finn crooked a smile at him. “Well I can’t take much credit for any of the beauty around here. Thank my parents, and like, the gardener I guess.” He was trying to downplay, but also couldn’t tear his gaze away from Logan’s. Logan was looking right back at him. He had a ring of hazel brown at the centre of his green eyes, only there when you were looking this closely, in the bright natural light of the kitchen. Finn could look at these eyes for hours, the colour was so deep and velvety. And then there were his lips. They were a bit dry, but such a full, perfect shape. Finn couldn’t look away and when he glanced back up to Logan’s eyes he saw that Logan was looking at him just as intently and for the second time today his heart sped up and heat spread up his neck. Two people, so different, but both so extraordinary, his heart felt like it was growing, making more room.

“I think you can take some credit,” Logan said lowly. What had they been talking about? “You are so generous, Finn. So fun to be around. This week, with you, has been really special.” Logan was even closer now, again, and Finn could now feel his breath gently against his skin, soft and sweet.

Pandora and Leo bustled back into the room, talking animatedly. Finn bounced away from Logan, and Logan sat back more slowly, smiling over at Leo. Finn stiffened, and stayed stiff the rest of the night. He didn’t let himself reach across Logan for the coleslaw, didn’t take Leo’s hand to inspect when he asked how his finger was feeling. He did everything he could to avoid the gravity that was pulling him towards Leo and Logan. They ate, and laughed. With his parents and Pandora at the table too, the conversation was free and easy even as Finn’s heart was tight and guilt gnawed at him. Pandora left, effervescent with praise for Leo and excited discussion about sharing and editing the photos. Finn’s parents shooed the boys from the kitchen, saying they would clean up tonight. Logan and Leo packed up and before Finn knew it they were all standing outside the front door, near where he had first seen Logan again for the first time in years, just 10 days ago. He melted a little into Leo’s deep hug, unable to stop himself from absorbing the sunshiney heat Leo’s presence always brought. Then Logan stepped forwards and part of Finn wanted to bolt, but as images of lowly lit study rooms and Harvard greens passed through his mind, he took Logan into his arms and inhaled deeply with his nose in Logan’s neck.

“It was so good to see you again, Tremzy,” Finn said, his voice shaky.

“You too Finn. This was, well this was the best surprise. And the best week.” Finn pulled away, knowing he was dangerously close to tears.

“Thanks for having us,” Logan said.

“No problem,” Finn said, overly bright. His eyes were stinging. “Anytime!”

He felt Leo and Logan’s gaze travel over him and he held himself tall and smiling, waving until they were in their Uber and driving away. Then he collapsed onto the front step, head in his hands as one ragged sob escaped his chest. They were so good, and here he was, wanting both of them.

I’m such a monster.

#characters by lumosinlove #coast to coast #o'knutzy #fic-o-ween 2023 #Hamptons au #cw blood #cw minor injury #second last part!!!

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thewayshedreamed · 3 years

Note

Congrats on the 800 followers bby you deserve it! I have a good one for you. I slipped and fell in the shower and the only person who can help me is my enemy for nessian 👀👀👀

Well, Sim, it was you who BLEW my word count. I should have seen it coming, I guess 👀

Although, I will say you didn't do it alone. I also combined @maastrash 's prompt "Are you hurt? What happened?" and one from anon, "You're cute when you're all worried."

They all went together so well that I couldn't resist. And as a result, you got this 3k+ beast. RIP 800-word limit.

Anyway, I hope you like it, my love! Enjoy!

Nesta wasn't sure why she had agreed to go to the beach with Feyre, Rhysand, and his brothers. Gwyn had come through in her time of need and agreed to join them, but she'd quickly flipped her allegiances to spend more time on the beach with the others instead of retreating back to the house with Nesta. She had a suspicion it had something to do with a certain tall, dark, and broody man who hoarded his smiles from the public eye.

Unless the public eye belonged to Gwyneth Berdara.

After the long trek to their rented beach house, Nesta stopped at the edge of the dock to knock the sand from her shoes. There was a small shower outside the backdoor to rinse the saltwater and stubborn sand from her body, and Nesta hissed against the stark cold that rained down on her legs. A proper shower was the only thing that was going to combat the chill in her blood, and that realization was enough to solidify her decision to stay inside the rest of the afternoon with a romance novel.

Her towel was full of sand, so she hanged it over the porch railing and headed directly to the bathroom. It was best if she peeled her bikini off in the shower to avoid scattering any lingering sand all over her bedroom, so she moved swiftly into the small bathroom and cranked the water nearly to the warmest setting. The firm grip of her arms around her body did very little to combat the goosebumps on her skin, and she let out a near moan at the feel of the hot water.

She closed the shower door behind her and stood beneath the spray properly to rinse her hair. Her bikini made a loud slopping sound against the tile in the corner. Dealing with it was a task for someone with any motivation beyond warmth and cleanliness.

Nesta lathered her hair and combed a generous amount of conditioner through her strands to help with the detangling process. The wind had created a monster, adding another notch against the beach in her book.

While her conditioner did the Cauldron's work, she grabbed a wash cloth and body wash. As she moved back beneath the spray, her foot slipped over the suds near the drain, but Nesta righted herself with a firm hand against the tile wall. The excessive amount of conditioner wasn't helping matters.

She rinsed her hair and body all at once to get to her lounge clothes as soon as possible. Stepping out of the spray to hang her washcloth on the nearby rack to dry was near torture now that she was properly warmed, and Nesta wasted no time in stepping back into the water for one last hit before shutting it off.

That was her intention, anyway. What happened instead is that her traitorous feet were no match for the slick tile, and the backward steps were all it took to send her careening to the floor. She slapped at the wall to no avail, finding no ally in reach. What she did find was insult to injury when various toiletry bottles rained down on top of her.

She had stupidly tried to brace her fall with her other hand, sending a spark of pain from her palm to her shoulder. Her groan echoed off the walls and the shower showed no mercy as the water rained onto her chest, all over her face.

A booming voice made her eyes snap open, only to snap them shut against the sting of the water.

"Nes?"

Her delay had been too long. The bathroom door burst open, and through the frosted glass, she saw Cassian's imposing form assessing the situation.

"Nesta? Are you hurt? What happened?"

This could not be happening. Of all the fuckers to be in the house at one of her lowest points, it had to be Cassian. Gwyn would be hearing about this.

"Go away."

She cringed against how dejected she sounded. Turning her head and shielding her eyes with her uninjured arm, she found that he did no such thing.

"Cassian," she warned. "Get the fuck out of here. Now."

He propped a hip on the bathroom counter. Arrogant bastard. At least, from what she could tell, his chin was turned up toward the ceiling rather than his gaze being fixed on the frosted glass.

"Something tells me things aren't going well if you've yet to peel yourself off the floor."

Nesta rolled her eyes and turned her face toward the water once more. Maybe she could drown.

"Let me help."

"I thought I was pretty clear. I'm not accepting help from you."

A deep sigh sounded in the bathroom, but before she could snap, his rough voice followed.

"Fine. Don't accept my help. Rhys came with me to grab snacks for the others. I'll have him switch with me."

"No," she roared, cringing against the command in her voice and her lack of options.

Every time she tried to sit up, pain tore through various parts of her body. Her ass, the hip that had taken most of the impact, her shoulder. She needed help, and while she hated the idea of accepting it from Cassian, she would rot in hell before Rhysand helped her out of the shower. How had she found herself in a situation where her only chance at help was the man who spent the majority of his life being as big of a pain in her ass as possible?

His voice sounded again, but it carried away from her. "Rhys, head back without me." His brother's voice came next, but Nesta couldn't hear him over the patter of water in the shower. "Nah, I'm good. Just taking a break from the sun. I'll catch up."

With that, he shut the bathroom door behind him. At least Cassian had the good sense to lie to Rhys rather than recruit any additional attention to her compromising position.

"Alright, Sweetheart. I've got a towel ready. I'm going to open up and shut the water off."

Nesta's breath hitched at the rush of cool air, at the form that cast her in shadow almost entirely. She pulled her legs up and shielded her chest with her good arm, earning a throaty chuckle from her savior.

"I'm not looking. I'd rather when a woman wants me to see them naked."

Why her need to launch jabs at him overpowered her pain was lost on her. "Must have been a while, then."

"Saw a good set out on the beach, actually. She was feeling pretty generous after watching me and Az play volleyball, I guess."

Nesta scowled. That tingling sensation down her spine didn't feel secondary to her injuries at hearing the story.

"You're a pig," she grumbled, but she let Cassian drape the towel over her front and ease her into a sitting position.

"It felt rude not to look."

Her huff of a laugh was genuine. Damn him. He moved to wrap the towel tightly around her shoulders.

"Think you can stand up?"

Nesta grimaced against the soreness in her hip. "Yeah. In a couple of minutes."

Without a word, Cassian hoisted her into his arms with measured gentleness. Her cheek rested against his shoulder since she didn't have her arms free to prop her up, but she barely had the energy anyway.

He maneuvered them out of the tight bathroom and down the hall to her room, easing her onto the edge of her bed. She opened her mouth to say thanks, but he had already spurred into action.

"What did you want to wear?"

"I'll get it."

He shot her a glare. "Fine. I'll pick."

Nesta growled her frustration, but Cassian only ticked his eyebrows upward in challenge. She hadn't realized initially that he wore only his swim trunks, half of his black hair pulled back and out of his face. The sun added color to his already bronze skin and left a soft blush on his cheeks that accented his hazel eyes. And she, to the contrary, was a lump beneath a massive towel. One that had managed to injure herself during a simple shower, evidenced by the soaked strands of hair plastered to her face and shoulders.

"There's a large night shirt in my suitcase and some sleep shorts."

Cassian grabbed them before turning toward her, a hand gripping the back of his neck. "Anything... underneath?"

Nesta allowed a sardonic laugh. "Underwear are for people with the use of both their arms."

He cleared his throat and left the clothes next to her on the bed. With a final instruction to call for him if she needed anything, he was gone.

She assessed the clothing and picked the shirt up first. One of her arms was through a sleeve in no time, but the second one was another story entirely. With a defeated whimper she gave up, dropping her arms into her lap with a hiss.

"Cassian!"

No response. Maybe he didn't hear her; the house was rather large. Her voice was louder the second time.

"Cassian!"

A muffled thud sounded, followed by a quick, "Coming!"

He appeared at the threshold of her door, dripping with water and suds. A large towel was wrapped around his waist, his grip white-knuckled to keep it in place.

"Everything alright? Where's the fire?"

Nesta blinked at him. "You said to call you if I needed anything," she pointed out, running her eyes over his state in accusation.

Cassian let out a long, suffering sigh. "I meant it, but you said you had this part covered. I take a 3-minute shower, tops."

"Well, I don't have it covered."

There was more bite to her voice than she'd intended, but self-pity and shame were settling into her bones. She hugged the nightshirt tighter against her body to serve as some form of armor, but it wasn't nearly enough.

Cassian's shoulders sagged, but she barely noticed in favor of watching beads of water travel down his torso, over his strong calves, and make a small puddle on the floor below. "I'm sorry. I was full of sweat and sand. I thought you'd be more likely to take help if I was clean."

Something in her chest softened at his forethought, even more so since he was right.

"Go finish your shower," she relented, settling her hips deeper into the mattress. "I can wait until you're done. I just— I need some help with my clothes."

He was on the balls of his feet, ready to haul himself straight to the shower. The water beneath his feet made her breath hitch. The words left her before she could think better of them.

"Careful! Don't rush." He blinked as if seeing her for the first time, but his usual cocky grin eventually stretched across lips. "I can't help you if you fall, too. And I'm not keeping you company on the ground until the rest of them come back."

Cassian's smile grew. He offered her a wink before he replied, "You're cute when you're all worried."

Her eyes narrowed to slits. "Go."

He hurried off on balanced feet, whether that was on Nesta's orders or a natural grace, she wasn't sure. While she waited, she opted to set them up as best as possible to make the process quick and painless. Well, minimally painful, considering there was a layer of awkwardness that was going nowhere fast. That was without counting the actual physical pain she would no doubt endure.

With a pathetic swatting motion, she knocked her sleep shorts to the floor and began shuffling them around with her feet. She'd managed to slip one into the proper leg hole before she heard Cassian's rich laugh from the doorway.

"Stubborn woman," he mused, seemingly allowing a sliver of affection to slip through. Nesta knew better.

She scowled, turning her chin up to make sure he knew how unwelcome his teasing was. He laughed harder and dropped to his knees in front of her, adjusting the tee he’d pulled over his head on his way into the room.

"What do you want to put on first? You're half-committed to both."

"Let's go with the shirt. It's long enough to cover me while we work on the shorts." Cassian nodded, reaching toward the crumpled article of clothing in her lap. Nesta jerked back to establish some expectations before moving forward. "You're about to see me naked."

"Yeah, probably," he sighed, as if it was a burden to him, too. "I won't look more than necessary though."

"Okay, good. And this doesn't change anything, so don't start acting weird around me. We take this to the grave, too. We'll never hear the end of it otherwise."

Cassian bit the inside of his cheek, pursing his lips in a failed attempt to hide his amusement. "You have my word."

He gently peeled the shirt from her grasp, sliding each sleeve beyond the crooks of her elbows before pulling the opening over her head. Nesta hissed at the pinch of pain through her shoulder but bit her tongue.

"I know. I'm sorry." He pulled the fabric down her sides and over her back. The backs of his knuckles dragged across her soft skin, and she barely contained her shiver.

Clearing his throat, he looked to the floor where her shorts were still tangled around her feet. He got to work on straightening them and allowed her to slip her other foot into the proper place. He didn't dare look up at her through his next request.

"Think you could put your weight on the leg that's not as sore?"

Nesta swallowed and said, “Yeah, I think so.”

“Use my shoulders to brace your weight, too.”

Her hands trembled as she reached for him. He was solid beneath her, the muscles in his shoulders unyielding under her grip. She had to resist flexing her fingers more firmly in a test of their resilience.

Cassian eased her shorts upward, the roughness of his knuckles tracing the same blazing path as they had over her back. His gaze was fixed resolutely on the floor, yet he managed to release them at the proper moment. The soft pop of the elastic snapped her out of whatever trance she was under, but the echo remained in the feel of his warm hands easing her hips back down to the mattress.

"Maybe we should have someone take a look at you; make sure you're okay." His brows came together when he realized she was already shaking her head in refusal.

"I'll rest a bit, and I'll be fine. I may be sore tomorrow, but I'm good."

Without a word, Cassian braced one of his legs outward and scooped Nesta into his arms. It grated her nerves how easily he'd lifted them both into a standing position.

"What are you doing? You can't make me go to the doctor."

Cassian leaned back and shook his head, trying to get his rogue hair out of his face. "I'm not manhandling you to the doctor, Nes. Settle down." His bottom lip jutted out to try and blow the strands away while he walked. "I'm taking you to the couch and getting you ice."

Oh. Well, that hadn't been what she expected. The gesture was enough to have her mindlessly raise a hand to tuck a lock of hair behind his ear. His eyes snapped to hers, his steps slowing to a stop in front of the couch. Their faces were close enough that she could run her nose along his if she wanted to, but she definitely didn't. Not even at the feel of his firm chest heaving against her.

They stayed that way, transfixed by the contact that was somehow more intimate than when he had draped clothes over her naked body. Their breathing settled into a rhythm together, and Nesta couldn't resist tracing the path of his sharp jaw. His slight stubble scraped against the pads of her fingers, all the way to his chin, where she grazed over his skin with her thumb. She snatched her hand away like he'd burned her.

Cassian's throat bobbed, and his fingers flexed against her ribs. His other hand did the same against her thigh, except his thumb traced a soft, idle path back and forth along the sensitive skin at the back. He made no moves to put her down.

Nesta knew she would regret the loss of his warmth immediately, but the line they flirted was thin. Not to mention, it was irresponsible to succumb to such a base urge considering, any other time, they would be poised to rip each others' heads off.

The shrieks of children at the neighboring beach house snapped their attention to something beyond the bubble they'd created for themselves. Cassian eased her to the couch and positioned pillows around her to keep as much pressure off of her aching joints as possible. He threw a blanket over her legs before heading to the nearby kitchen for ice.

Nesta watched his retreat with shameless appreciation. How had she never stopped to look at him through her current lens? Doing so may have been enough to make her more agreeable in nature. The thought made worry sink in her gut with what had transpired moments before, and she craved the oddly familiar banter they'd engaged in since he showed up to the scene of her demise.

"So," she called, eyes fixed on the intricately patterned throw pillow beneath her injured arm, "how much did you see?"

His voice was closer than she'd expected, but she managed not to startle. "Uh— I mean. I saw some things."

Nesta fixed her glare on him, and he gave her a sideways smile while he placed the ice strategically over her shoulder. She hissed against the cold, earning a look of apology.

"What things?"

He let out along breath. "A bit of everything, really. Not on purpose. " A slight blush turned the tips of his ears pink, but Nesta didn't comment on it. "Mostly, you know—" He gestured back and forth between his pecs. "—everything else was more... indirect, I guess."

Nesta groaned, allowing her forehead to fall to her good hand, cradling it in her palm. Cassian moved to the nearby armchair and took a sip of his bottled water.

"Don't be embarrassed, Sweetheart," he soothed, albeit mockingly. "They're not the worst ones I've seen today."

—

They had watched a movie in loaded silence until the others trudged up to the house near sunset. Nesta gave the cliff notes of how she'd wound up injured on the couch, making no mention of Cassian's help. The last thing they needed was an onslaught of questions from their nosy friends.

"I thought you were coming back out there. What happened to you?"

Cassian's brows drew together at Rhys' question. "Well, I saw Nesta laid up on the couch and offered to watch a movie with her. I lost track of time."

Rhysand eyed him skeptically, but no one questioned it. Cassian redirected everyone's attention to the matter of what they would cook as a group that night, but he was sure to give Nesta strict orders to stay planted on the couch. Overbearing prick.

With so many hands on deck, dinner was ready quickly. They all settled around the table, and Gwyn had made it a point to cushion Nesta's chair with pillows before letting her sit down. Her best friend must have sensed the verbal lashing that awaited her in the privacy of their shared room that night.

Laughter filled the space while they told stories from the day's events. Apparently, Azriel had rescued Gwyn from a feared creature of the deep while taking a dip in the water. He had hardly been able to stop laughing himself to tears long enough to complete the epic tale of how he defeated the bundle of seaweed that had threatened Gwyn's life so mercilessly. The latter hadn't found it quite so amusing, but Az offered her a broad smile in apology.

Nesta wasn't sure she had ever seen one quite so wide on his face, and holy gods. If she'd thought him to be beautiful before, she had been sorely mistaken.

As they usually did, Rhysand and Feyre settled close to each other as the other talked. Rhys was busy murmuring things into Feyre's ear that made her cheeks as red as Gwyn's sunburn, which earned a proper warning from Cassian to "stop being gross with his little sister". Nesta agreed with him enough to refrain from reminding him that he was in no way related to Feyre.

"Don't mind him, Darling," Rhys purred. "He's pouting because the only action he'll see during this trip will be self-directed."

Cassian nostrils flared in annoyance, and for whatever reason, Nesta found herself rising to his defense.

"I don't know," she sang, "I hear Cassian saw a pretty good set today."

A chorus of questions broke out, but he only had eyes for Nesta. The gleam in his eyes told her he knew she hadn't been referring to the ones flashed to him and Azriel after the beach volleyball game.

"I did," he agreed, sipping some of the amber liquid in his glass. "Perfect, actually."

The questions continued, and Azriel reluctantly began recounting the tale of he and Cassian's victory flashing. Nesta used her good arm to raise her wine to her lips, mouthing a subtle thank you over the glass for everything he'd done for her. The least she could do was preserve a bit of his dignity.

Cassian lifted his class in mock cheers and said everything he needed to with a single wink.

The pleasure was all mine.

#nessian #nessian au #acotar au #cassian x nesta #nessian hurt comfort #nessian tension #enemies prompt #800 followers celebration #twsd writes #twsd fics #perseusannabeth #sim tag

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some-kindofgnome · 3 years

Text

sick day

Hawks comes home after a few days away. You’ve come down with a nasty cold in his absence.

characters: takami keigo (hawks) x f!reader

wc: 2.2k

warnings: smut (18+ please!), reader with a head cold (lil snot action here and there), soft soft SOFT hawks who goes down on u in the morning >:)

requests: from 2 anons!: I have a request ! I love me some hawks taking care of his sick s/o and when they are better ! He pounces for sex ! Huzzah

I’m in desperate need of a hawks taking care of his sick s/o , also because I love your work and also because I’m sick and want to take care of me.

notes: i. adore. writing soft hawks. i just want him to take care of me oh-kay? let this man love. please! 💖

Masterlist

You’re so sick when Hawks get in, you’ve almost forgotten how long he was away.

After a growing mission took him away from the city for a few days, he gets back early in the afternoon with the sun streaming into the kitchen windows. And with you, hunched over your laptop at the counter with tissues littering the counter and floor around you.

“Hey, bluebird,” he calls as his keys jingle in the door. “God, it’s only getting colder out there by the minute now. How’s you- oh, no.”

When he spots the mess you’ve become, his little mission bag slips to the tiled floor, pulling you out of your fever-induced trance. You tear burning eyes away from your document, and the smile that crosses your face is sleepy and swollen.

“Hey babe,” you sniffle. It’s evident in your voice, your body language, everything. Keigo’s only been gone a couple of days, but it was long enough for you to come down with a nasty little bug.

“How was your trip?”

He cringes at the congested sound of your voice. Sucks in a deep little breath through his teeth.

“What are you doing?” He asks. “Are you working?”

You glance guiltily over your shoulder at your laptop. “Well, yeah, I-I was feeling alright this morning, so I-“

“No way,” he interrupts firmly. He’s already shrugging out of his hero clothes. They’re streaked with soot and mud, but he’s going to worry about himself later.

He comes up behind you jacketless, belt already unbuckled and jingling loose around his thighs. He sets one hand on your shoulder and the other on the back of the chair next to you.

“Email your boss,” he rumbles. “Tell her you’re taking the afternoon off. Tell her you’re sick, for the love of god.”

“Babe, I can work,” you plead. “It’s a cold. I’m not dying.”

“You need to rest,” he argues. He brings both hands to your shoulders, digging his thumbs gently against your aching muscles. You try your best to hide how sensitive they are, but you can’t help the little spasms that make you twitch and sigh.

“C’mon,” he hums, dipping close. He pushes a kiss against the sensitive spot behind your ear, and you catch the soft, musky scent of the sweat that clings to his hairline. He smells earthy and cold, like he’s been outside a while.

Maybe he flew all the way back here.

“We both need showers,” he offers. And when he rumbles it all low and tempting in your ear, there’s no way you can put up much of a fight.

“Okay,” you groan. Keigo turns away with a triumphant pump of his fist. You try to keep the idiotic grin off your face as you open a new email. To no avail.

You and your boss have a close enough relationship that it’s easy for you to type out a casual little email explaining everything to her. She gets back to you right away, and even though you’re too busy being dragged to the bathroom, you can tell by the first few lines of the email that it’s all fine by her.

You kind of regret not telling her before about the fever you’re running. But none of that matters now. You’ve got the last few hours of the afternoon off, and you intend on spending at least some of that time in the shower with Keigo.

He’s already naked and warming up the water for you. You want to ache for him- he’s been away all weekend, after all- but you’re both too exhausted to do anything but climb under the water together. You pause for a moment with rivulets running over both your bodies, and he cups your cheeks, biting his lower lip hard as conflict floods his features.

“I wanna kiss you so bad right now,” he groans.

“I missed you, too,” you giggle back, reaching up to push your wet fingers through his soaking hair. “But I wouldn’t wish this shit on my worst enemy.”

He knows you’re right, settling for a soft little kiss to your shoulder instead. He turns you around and lets warm water spray down your back as he rubs your shoulders, your neck, working all the tension from your muscles. The pain in your head whittles away the longer you stand there, and before long it’s nothing more than a dull throb while he’s reaching for the shampoo.

There’s no feeling you love more than Keigo washing your hair for you. His fingers are attentive and devoted, scratching itches you never realized were bothering you. He scrunches his fingers through the ends of your hair before reaching for the removable shower head, smoothing one rinsed palm over your forehead to tilt your head back.

“Eyes closed,” he coos. You’re still smiling like a goddamned idiot.

The suds sluice down your back as he passes the shower wand over your hair. The bubbles send wafts of fragrance through your senses. There’s nothing like coconut-scented shampoo when winter closes in on the city. It’s like a little trip to the beach, every time you get in the shower.

It was Keigo’s idea.

He combs loving fingers coated with slippery conditioner through your hair. He lathers up your favourite body wash and trails his slick fingers over your tired skin. You can feel him getting excited behind you, but you’re both too tired to do anything about it. All he does is pull you lovingly back against his chest, letting his half-hard cock rest against the curve of your ass. He lays another soft kiss to the crook of your shoulder and you let out a deep, drippy sigh.

“C’mon,” he rumbles into your ear, tender like a dove. “Let’s get out before your nose starts to run, yeah?”

He dries himself off quickly, leaving you the bathroom for a few minutes. Wrapping your fluffy towel around your shoulders, you pad across the heated tile to pluck a tissue from the box by the mirror.

You blow. Hard. The steam lingering in the room helps to dislodge some of your congestion, and you emerge from the bathroom with the newfound ability to breathe through your left nostril.

Progress.

When you get into the bedroom, there are clothes laid out for you. Your favourite pair of clean sweatpants and one of Hawks’ t-shirts. You slip into the pants and give the t-shirt a little cuddle, burying your nose into the fabric and smiling when you catch the barest whiff of his spicy scent through your dulled senses.

You don’t even notice that the blankets are gone from the bed until you realize where they’ve been moved. As you emerge from your shared bedroom, you immediately spot the fluffy duvet and pillows spread out on the couch.

Hawks is in the kitchen, tapping away on his phone. When he spots you, he smiles so tender and soft it makes your sick little heart swell. He gives a little nod toward the couch as his wings bristle gently, encouraging.

“Go on,” he quips. “Get comfy.”

He comes around the side of the counter as you curl into the nest of pillows and gets down on his knees beside you.

“Here we go,” he hums. “A warm little nest for my cozy little bluebird.” He tugs the edges of the blanket back over and around you, wrapping you up in the fluffy comforter like a sick little sushi roll. Once you’re well tucked in, he smooths the hair back from your forehead. His chin juts forward- he wants to kiss you- but he restrains himself.

“I ordered you some food, okay?”

You snuggle deeper into your cozy retreat, until only your eyes and nose poke over the top of the blankets. The soft, soapy scent of the laundry detergent you use sends sweet washes of comfort through your tired brain.

“What kind of food?”

“Noodle soup,” he hums. You can tell he’s restraining the urge to grin as he looks you over. God, you’ve missed him. “From that place down the road.”

“Yum,” you gasp. You fiddle with the edges of your blanket to shove one hand out the side, grabbing his fingers and giving them a loving little squeeze. He chuckles, taking your hand between both of his and stroking the back of your palm over with both thumbs.

“Here,” he adds. He twists over one shoulder, grabbing the remote for the TV. “Put on anything you want. The food’ll be here soon, and then you can eat and go to bed, yeah?”

He glanced toward the armchair, not far from the couch. You try to hide the way your heart sinks.

He’s still got work to do.

“Sounds good,” you mumble, taking the cool plastic remote from his hand. You think about putting something on for the two of you, but he’s given you express instructions to indulge. So you find the show that brings you the most comfort and let its familiar sounds bring you down from the edge of a demanding work day.

When the food arrives, you sit up and slurp your noodles diligently. He keeps refilling your water, giving you a little dose of cold medication once you’ve got something in your stomach.

He’s ordered a bowl of soup for himself, too, but it stays largely untouched as he taps away on his laptop, finishing the report for the mission he’d raced back from, no doubt.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but you half-wake to the sleepy sensation of being lifted. In a drowsy stupor you don’t even open your eyes, simply letting your head rock forward against Keigo’s familiar chest as he carries you to bed.

The next morning, you feel like a changed person.

The first thing you realize when you open your eyes is that you can breathe through your nose. Both sides. The passages of your sinus are so clear they nearly hurt, but you take deep, greedy breaths, revelling in your ability to clear your sleepy head with fresh, cool oxygen.

The second thing you notice is the very mischievous bird in the sheets beside you.

“G’morning, bluebird.”

He snuggles close to you, dropping a sordid kiss to your shoulder. He trails kisses into the crook of your neck and his hot breath tickles your tender skin in a way that you’ve dearly missed.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Better,” you conclude with a drowsy little smile. Your limbs have a pleasant, sleepy weight to them, but he’s quickly wearing the ache of rest from your tired eyes.

“Like… I’m probably not contagious anymore.”

You don’t have to tell him twice.

“God,” he sighs, rolling on top of you. He dips his mouth to yours, soft at first, then insistent. “I missed ya, kid.”

He kisses all the way down the side of your neck again, drawing tight little shivers from the length of your spine. He’s impatient, though, pushing your t-shirt up and curling his fingers into the loose hem of your sweatpants to rid you of them quickly.

He pushes your thighs apart, settling onto his belly between them. His wings dip and fold gracefully behind his back. You reach out and stroke the apex of one of them, making it flutter. He shoots you a sly grin and you watch the way his hips dip into the mattress.

Fuck, it feels good to be horny again.

Keigo kisses and nips a long path up the inside of one sensitive thigh, leaving tiny little welts where he sooths his tongue over your flesh. By the time he gets to the joint of your pelvis, you’re squirming for him, achy and needing.

“Fuck,” he sighs, nozing at the apex of one thigh. He takes a deep inhale and kisses there. “I missed this.”

He licks, gentle and loving. You keen and sigh. The sensation is beautifully familiar- even more so as he finds the swell of your clit, pushing a scruffy kiss to it and then starting to suck.

Keigo always eats you out sloppy. But it drives you crazy, the way he slides his arms under your thighs to leverage your hips against his face. The way he licks and slurps at you shamelessly, unafraid to overwhelm your sensitive form. His fingers dig gently into the meat of your thighs when he finds the tenderest angle from which to attack your clit, and you ride a wave of pleasure so smooth that it clears the last vestiges of your cloudy headache from the edges of your temples.

He makes you cum hard, letting you dive your fingers into his hair and pull while he feasts on your pussy. When he pulls back from between your thighs, his scruff is slick with spit and you and he’s licking his lips like they’re coated in honey.

“Hmm, fuck,” he groans, rolling his hips into the mattress again before climbing to his knees. “God. You gave me so much, bluebird.” He wipes his chin on the back of his hand, examining the sheen of your juices with a wolfish grin.

If he was hard before he’s straining now, but he bats his hands away before you can even get close.

“No way,” he quips, climbing out of bed. “You need to rest more.”

“Aw, c’mon,” you fuss. But Keigo’s firm.

“Stay in bed, bluebird. I gotcha.” He moves toward the door of your bedroom, then glances over his shoulder and grins.

“How d’you feel about pancakes?”

There’s no instance that Keigo’s tried to make pancakes that hasn’t ended in sheer disaster. But you’ve missed him too much not to adore him for trying. You pull the blankets back over your spent form, beaming at him from the pillows.

“Sounds good.”

#hawks x reader #hawks #takami keigo x reader #takami keigo #hawks x you #takami keigo x you #boku no hero academia #mha fanfic #my hero academia #bnha fanfic

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lcnelyinthesky · 4 years

Text

six to six - sakusa x reader

a/n: i haven’t written fluff in forever it seems,, its only been a few days. in any case! heres some self indulgent sakusa! i hope youre all having a wonderful day!

genre: fluff

warnings: timeskip!jobs

word count: 1.6k

enjoy!! <3