#vibes! they both just need all the naps! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

llamagoddessofficial · 3 months

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Thank you @radpunch for giving me an excuse for more Farmtale Sans... he's the love of my life

I don't usually do this, but I thought I'd add some recommended music for reading this piece. I listened to this the whole time I was writing, and I think it really adds to the vibe.

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To anyone else, the sight of a body in a field neighbouring yours probably would’ve caused no small amount of alarm. Instead, you just sighed, finally laying down your shovel for the day and hopping the fence you had only just finished repairing.

The grass brushed against your hips as you walked, moving your feet as if wading through water. The evening sun caught the long, glimmering single stray cobwebs that trailed from the grass flower heads, and illuminated the tiny fluttering bodies of disturbed insects that fluttered up and away when you walked by. Though it was a pain to move through, you always liked when the field looked like this. It was your own romantic summer sea.

Eventually, you came across the ‘body’. Sans was lounging with his head propped up on a pile of empty seed bags, straw hat placed on his chest, sockets shut. The sun didn’t reach him now, the tall grass on all sides of him left a perfect little shady spot where he had nestled in. He looked very comfy... very peaceful. This wasn’t unusual at all, for him. He had a knack for finding hidden places to nap.

You crouched down. You could hear him faintly snoring. There was a tiny iridescent beetle sitting proudly on his bent knee, using the vantage point to observe its surroundings. It didn’t seem bothered by your presence in the slightest.

Sans was nice to look at. You had always considered him kinda good-looking, but he had grown more and more on you over time. Despite his brother being more classically ‘handsome’, with his high cheekbones, strong jawline and impressive physique, Sans was the one you found yourself getting caught staring at. He was... so easygoing. Not softspoken, too confident for that. Just never needing to raise his voice. Quick witted, strong, smart. Casual. Despite his silly straw hat, constantly muddy pants and crappy jokes, something about him was effortlessly cool. Effortlessly pretty.

And you were...

...

He had dirt on his cheekbone. Without thinking, you reached out, wiping it off.

Before you could even blink, his hand snapped up, catching yours by the wrist. You let out a little inelegant shriek then slapped your free hand over your mouth in embarrassment - he snorted, sockets opening up, pretty fuzzy green eyelights landing on you.

“well hello there,” he said, voice only mildly sleepy, with a gentle purr to it. He turned his face, and kissed your palm.

You shrieked a second time. Well... this one was more like a yelp, yanking your hand out of his grip as both of you descended into laughter. “Gross!”

You weren’t going to admit the move had given you butterflies. Nor that the way he was looking at you was making you feel things you didn’t have words for yet. You made a point of wiping your hand on your work pants.

“am i still asleep, or d’you just look like a dream to me?” he asked, leaning back, knitting his fingers together over his chest.

“Charming.” Your tone just made him snicker. “The sun is setting. You getting up soon, or are you planning on sleeping under the stars tonight?”

Sans’ gaze was very soft. “hey, that actually don’t sound too bad. ‘specially if i had the right company.”

“True. Stargazing with someone is always nicer.”

“could always join me. room for two, in this patch.”

“Unlike you, I have to worry about ticks.” You flicked his shoulder. “I’ll think about it when the grass is cut.”

He grinned. “dang. never felt so motivated to do a chore before. s’that a promise, then? when i cut the grass you’ll come stargaze with me?”

You rolled your eyes. But there they were again; the butterflies. The thing with Sans was you never had any idea whether or not he was serious. He said entirely joking and entirely genuine things with the same tone of voice, the same smile, the same twinkling eyelights. Maybe in a few years you’d know him well enough to tell. Right now, though, you were much too afraid of embarrassing both of you by assuming his 'flirting' was anything but banter.

He finally sat up, and the beetle on his knee took off into the sky. It felt so cosy, somehow; the two of you were almost entirely below the top of the grass, hiding in a tiny den. It smelled like... well, grass, duh. But a specific kind of grassy smell - sweet and dry, more like hay, summery and clear. It reminded you of playing outside as a child until the sun had long gone down.

“you been exertin’ yerself? all red.”

“Yeah, I’ve just been fixing the fence.” A lie and a truth. You had been fixing the fence, but it was a menial chore that hadn’t required huge amounts of strain. The blushing was from something else.

“ah, jeez." A break in his easy mood. "we’re still really sorry about that. pap is absolutely mortified, think he's set aside a whole load of crop for you.”

The brothers’ goat had managed to break through several fences, including yours, to take a 'visit' to your garden. You’d found her in your flowerbed, happily eating the tops off the marigolds you were going to cut and take to market.

You’d never seen someone more apologetic than when Papyrus showed up to bring her home. The animal still had bright yellow petals in her beard as he led her away.

“It’s alright,” you said, warmly. “it wasn't like it was malicious or anything. Animals get out. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more sweet-natured goat anyway.”

“should’ve told me you were fixing that fence. i would’ve helped out.”

“Oh would you have?” Your tone was mock-suspicious. “How convenient that you waited until I was finished to tell me that.”

His sockets raised at the corners. “i’m serious! you doubtin’ my honesty? dang. thought we were close.”

Uh oh. Butterflies again. You swerved, doing your best to avoid it.

“So does your brother know you’re out here?”

“course not,” he snickered. “he still thinks i’m working.”

“Maybe I should go tell him that you’re flunking. I’m certain he already knows, he just needs to catch you in the act.”

He put his hat back on his head. “well. guess now i have to kill you.”

You laughed - and in the shade, entirely missed the little green shimmer across his cheekbones.

“How’s the day been then, sleepyhead?”

He shrugged, picking at some of the flattened grass. “busy. exactly how you think late summer on a farm would be. harvestin’, packin’ stuff up. lotsa ploughing. even with magic, it’s hard work. i’m just stealing whatever breaks i can find. you?”

You gave him a look. “You came over yesterday. You know how I'm doing.”

He leant over, lightly elbowing you. “c’mon. i’m doin’ the small talk thing. can’t leave me hangin’ here.”

“So now you’re guilt tripping me? You’re a real piece of work.”

That got another snicker out of him. He was so handsome when he laughed.

Sans always liked knowing what was going on in your life. It was weird, you never saw him do that with anyone else; it had taken you a while to notice it but even with his closest friends he didn’t talk half as much as he did with you. The first time you’d seen him talking to Toriel you had thought he was in a bad mood, with how little he engaged, how simple his questions were, how sparingly he spoke.

“BAD MOOD? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

“Sans just didn’t seem very chatty tonight. Did something happen?”

“OH? OH! NYEHEHEHEH, HOW FUNNY! SANS WAS COMPLETELY NORMAL TONIGHT, HUMAN, DON’T YOU WORRY. THIS IS HOW HE ALWAYS IS AT GET-TOGETHERS.”

“But he...”

“HE’S JUST MUCH CHATTIER WITH ME AND YOU.”

You liked to think he felt safe around you. You definitely felt safer around him, that was for sure.

You pulled your knees up to your chest, relenting under his gaze. “Okay okay, fine. I’m doing alright, I guess. The old trees came right back to life as soon as the thickets were cleared away. There’s already fruit, they just need another year or so to get market ready.”

“and yer flowers? they sellin’ well?”

“It’s a good way to plug the money gaps in the meantime. Living in the age of the internet definitely helps, there’s lots of information floating around that has made it so much easier for me to get started. I dunno. It’s alright.”

You wanted to stop talking. You looked away, staring off into the ‘forest’ surrounding you, the waning sunset catching certain blades and turning them into a warm burning orange. In the distance you could hear the rolling and bubbling singing of a particularly loud bird somewhere overhead.

Despite your desire to shut up, Sans wasn’t about to let you. His lovely eyelights just continued to bore into you.

“i can hear a ‘but’ in there.”

...

You sighed. Oh well. Who else were you going to be able to talk to?

“I thought the impostor syndrome would be gone by now.”

He cocked his head. You had no choice but to continue.

“I’m just... I still feel like I’m not part of this. My mind hasn’t settled in. Every day is a confusing fight where I feel like I barely make it out the other side. Most of my flower boxes are stuck together with tape and hope.” You settled your chin onto your knees, sulking. “Every time things start to make sense, and I feel like I’m finally starting to get some solid ground, another problem shows up. Another thing breaks. Another bug I didn’t know existed is eating the fruit, another tree disease I have to prep against otherwise it might wipe out the orchard, another colony of aphids eating the flowers. I can’t win.”

“sounds pretty normal to me.”

You looked up from your knees. “Does it?”

“that’s just life, ain’t it?” He had somehow shuffled closer to you, entirely without you noticing. “there’s always some new problem. if ya ask me, sounds exactly like a day on our farm. one of the ducks is injured, a coop is leaking, chicken got eaten in the night, goat escaped and ate the neighbour’s flowers. nothing goes how you expect. if you ask me, you’re doing great.”

You hummed. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“doin’ good on paper, too. human from the suburbs moves to the countryside and buys an abandoned orchard. most of the time that ends in disaster. but yer trees are fruiting, could be ready in a single year, the flowers are already bloomin’ and sellin’ at the market. not sure how you could do any better.”

... You couldn’t help but feel warm. Especially on your face again. Partially because of his kind words, yes... but mostly because he seemed so intent on making you feel less bad. It made your chest all fluttery.

“... Thank you,” you mumbled. "that does make me feel better."

“course. anytime. just wish you’d ask for help, more.”

The bird from earlier started singing again. You glanced up, but could see nothing from within the little 'den'.

“Any idea what that bird is?”

He leant back. One hand, conspicuously, resting on the ground just behind your back. “s’a skylark.”

“... Skylark.”

You stared up into the clear evening sky. You weren’t great with bird names, but you’d definitely remember that.

...

Feeling like he was looking at you, you turned to the side. Sans was looking at you - and his face was only really a few inches from yours. Close enough that if he tilted his head down a bit, the top of his straw hat would bump against your hair. His expression was calm... a lot calmer than you felt. The two of you quietly held eye contact, and the skylark continued to sing.

... Suddenly, and with no apparent trigger, you felt immensely flustered by the proximity. You pulled back, shuffling, unceremoniously dragging yourself to your feet and brushing off your pants. Your head popped up above the grass; immediately, some tiny birds scattered up and away, sun shining into your eyes.

“I should head home.” You were messing needlessly with your hair. “Dinner isn’t going to make itself.”

Sans looked up at you, for a few silent moments. You couldn’t read his face at all, the only thing you knew was that his smile was very soft.

“agh, i should head out too,” he eventually said, not standing, but folding his arms behind his head and stretching. “need to get home. pap probably thinks i fell into a ditch.”

You put your hands on your hips. “Then you can finally rest, after a long hard day of skipping your chores?”

He chuckled. “why of course.”

“Pft. Say hi to Papyrus for me.”

“sure thing. later, doll.”

With that, you headed back across the field, leaving Sans to pretend to wake up. Knowing him he had probably laid down and gone straight back to sleep.

... You put your hand over your chest, now that you were out of sight, trying to still your fluttering heart. It wasn’t really any use.

The more time you spent with Sans, the more you realised you were falling for him.

///---///

Sans watched you walk away, the golden light catching in your hair.

... He sighed, stretching again, before finally actually dragging himself to his feet. The green flush became more prominent on his face as he stopped to watch a skylark hovering just over the grass before tilting its wings and dancing away.

He’d been completely serious about the stargazing. Once again, you thought he was joking, his own persona had bitten him in the ass. He’d wanted to tell you as you were leaving - he’d wanted to finally put his foot down and make a date out of it, ask you when you were free and do what he’d been dreaming of doing for weeks.

But just like always, when you’d looked at him, he’d completely fallen to pieces. The words had gotten stuck in his nonexistent throat. And by the time he’d shaken himself out of his stupor, you were already leaving.

Sans just sighed, adjusting his hat.

“... next time,” he hummed. "there's always next time."

With that, he shortcutted home.

#commissions #GOD hes so handsome and lovely and i would live with him forever #he makes the cottagecore dream all that more reachable

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1d1195 · 8 months

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Sun-Kissed I

Here is a fluffy/smutty little piece of love on the beach. It’s ~9k words. It’s a love at first sight kind of thing I know it’s kind of ridiculous for them to be falling in love so fast but it’s my story and I’m sticking with it. Also, sorry that I’m really into sunflowers right now. Sunflower Vol. 6 has been on my mind lately so that’s gonna make an appearance for the third time as of late. I don’t know if anyone else cares about all my little easter eggs regarding real life Harry in my writing but I’m really pretty proud of the news one I put in here. I'm sorry they're both teachers again I needed them to have summer's off to make this work. Their careers are not a major part of the story.

Warnings: There’s some pretty 18+ things happening here. Masturbating, public sex (kinda), thigh riding, etc. If you’re not into this, I wouldn’t read it. It's all fluff otherwise. There won't be a bit of angst.

I've been trying to write this for over a year and finally came pouring out. Unfortunately, there will be a second part next Thursday only because I thought it was getting too long. So it does end a little abruptly. Hope you enjoy anyway :)

Harry was fascinated by her, simply put. He wanted to spend forever at dinner with her. Chatting with her. Looking at her beautiful face. Envying how the sun got to kiss her, and he didn’t.

Harry didn’t grow up near a beach so he thought this would be great way to cash in on his vacation time over the summer. Sitting at the beach, reading a book, and dipping his toes in the water when it got too hot. His mum knew someone who knew someone who gave him a great deal on the summer rental, and he was beyond excited to sit and relax for the first time in years.

Being an earlier riser had its advantages. For one, he got the pick of where to set up his summer getaway on the beach. He brought a cooler, a chair, and a few towels along with a book or two to spend the day. Through his sunglasses, he faced the direction of the sunshine. He hadn’t had a proper summer holiday since he was young and now that he was busy teaching and had summer’s off, he was elated to have some time to himself.

Once he settled his belongings, he turned on a summer playlist he’d been working on for a while. He didn’t turn it up loud—he would never want to bother anyone that may join him on the beach—but it was loud enough to hear and not interrupt his imagination while reading.

It was utterly peaceful.

Apparently, Harry was unaware of just how truly peaceful the beach could be.

“Hey,” a voice said softly, it was sweet. A gentle shake on the arm, her skin was cool to the touch. His eyes blinked open unsurely. He realized he fell asleep and didn’t even get through the first page of his book. “Hi,” she whispered with a gentle smile. “You’re going to start burning,” she explained handing over a bottle of sunscreen to his hands while Harry tried to wake himself up. “And your book is in the sand,” she said grabbing it before the spine broke from all the grains of the beach ruining the binding.

“Oh,” he shook his head desperate for his brain to catch up to his surroundings. “Thanks,” he said gratefully.

“No problem!” She chirped heading back to the chair that was a few meters in front of him. “I already burned once this summer and it was miserable. Just don’t want you to suffer the same fate.”

He pushed open the bottle and started rubbing on the sunscreen. It felt like he was going to have a slight burn already. The relief of the lotion on his skin made him wary. “Ah, guess...I should probably leave,” he chuckled. “Try again tomorrow.”

“Oh...if you want to stay, I have an umbrella,” she said cheerfully. “S’a nice day, just give me a minute to set up,” she smiled and gave her name to Harry.

Harry had hardly gotten a good look at her with a sleepy set of eyes a bit wiped by the sun. His brain was foggy with the impromptu nap. This small little town he was staying in had the vibe that someone like her would help a stranger. Everyone had been so nice in the grocery store and when Harry went for his run yesterday, people said hello and commented on how nice the evening was. It was an adorable little town and Harry was already dreading having to leave in two weeks’ time.

“Well, thank you. M’Harry,” he said quietly while he finished rubbing the lotion over his body. He watched her work, his mind less foggy. Glancing at his watch, he noted it was a little over two hours since he arrived. It wasn’t too hot outside still, so his burn would be minor if he got one at all. With the addition of a blanket and the umbrella, it was almost a mirror image of Harry’s little set up. A chair, a cooler, and a couple towels.

She had a ponytail pulled through a baseball cap and she wore a button down, rolled to the elbows. The top few buttons were open revealing a deep blue bathing suit top, that scooped low enough to show off...

Harry had to be careful, or he was going to be sporting a prominent erection on a beach with a ton of families. He moved his gaze down past where he really wanted to look. The shirt came down to just above her knee and he saw a pair of flip flops discarded to the side of the blanket she had laid out in front of her stuff. “Nice day, huh?” She smiled as she twirled the umbrella stand into the sand.

“Tits—it’s really nice,” Harry said quickly stammering through his recovery.

Smooth.

She either didn’t notice his faux pas or didn’t care because she continued about her business. “Have you been here long?” She asked.

“Just arrived yesterday. Did some grocery shopping. Went for a jog.”

“Oh, how nice,” she had this infectious smile. Harry felt so happy just being around her. Or maybe it was the beautiful weather and the prettiest beach he had seen in years.

Or maybe it was her curvy figure that was making him lightheaded with happiness.

She pulled the shirt off finally, and Harry thought he might seriously need to leave. Head back for his little beach cottage to take care of blood rushing to his groin. She’s gorgeous. He thought to himself. “How ‘bout you?” He cleared his throat.

“I grew up here...and live here in the summer.”

He stared at her in surprise. “Here?” He asked.

She smiled and nodded. “It’s my favorite place on earth,” she explained.

“I can see why,” he nodded in appreciation. “Do you have any suggestions for while m’here?”

She nodded. “Plenty—how long are you here for?”

“Two weeks.”

“How lovely...let’s see...you’re at the beach—that’s most important in my opinion. I think if you stay here most of the time, you’ll have a successful vacation. There’s a place about twenty minutes from here where you can go clam digging if you like clams—I don’t really like them, but it’s fun to go. Paddleboarding on the river is also a really big thing. There’s this restaurant that everyone talks about. If you want, I know someone who works there, I could get you in. You’ll need a sweatshirt from the most touristy of tourist shops, but don’t go on a rainy day—everyone will be there. You’ll have to see the sunrise and the sunset. I think there’s a full moon too, so you’ll definitely want to see that over the ocean. I personally recommend ice cream and mini golf too. If you have time, you should also check out the nearby island. Even though this place is beautiful the island is like being in another country. It’s stunningly beautiful,” throughout her speech she continued working on the umbrella stand, putting the actual umbrella into place and tilting it back to create more shade.

Harry thought it would be really forward of him to invite her on all those adventures. Especially when someone as beautiful as she was surely had a significant other. Add in the fact he met her less than ten minutes ago; he would have seemed insane. “Wow, sounds like a packed schedule.”

She laughed and Harry swore he had never heard a sound as beautiful. She was still organizing her items and she gestured under the umbrella for Harry to move his stuff. “I’m really passionate about this place I forget people want to relax.”

“S’okay,” he chuckled. “You’re right t’be passionate. M’sure you’re right; I’ll make every effort t’do it all,” he promised and began moving his stuff below her umbrella. “Everyone is so nice here,” he told her. “Yourself included.”

“Why thank you,” she smiled sweetly and settled into her beach chair finally, facing the sun. He swore that someone this stunning couldn’t be real. She looked like a beach goddess—sun-kissed hair and skin. “What are you reading?” She asked, turning her head toward him covering the side of her face to keep the sun out of her eyes even though she wore sunglasses too.

He couldn’t even remember why he picked the book up. “Er...I fell asleep before finishing the first page,” he admitted shyly. She giggled.

“The beach does that, I swear. Something about total relaxation and the warm sun. I’m like a cat. Once I lay on my stomach, I’m out like a light.”

“Do you read?”

She nodded. “Have to; I’m a middle school teacher.”

“Oh,” Harry smiled. “I teach secondary.”

“No way!”

So, for the whole morning, Harry forgot about his book. Forgot about his playlist that was still going—except for anytime she asked what song was playing. They talked for literally three hours straight never once a lull in the conversation. Work, books, the beach, music, and anything they thought of. He told her about his family coming to visit for the weekend and she told him about her family who didn’t love this place as much as she did who would probably not visit—even if they missed her and loved her with everything in them.

At lunch they finally quieted their conversation to eat and watch the water. “I don’t see a burn,” she told him glancing over his face and skin as she finished her sandwich. He smiled.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully. “I’d be a proper crisp by now.”

She held the sunscreen out to him again. “I know this is a little weird, would you mind getting my upper back?” She asked.

Touch her? Harry didn’t have to be asked twice. Harry made sure to spray every bit of her skin. He didn’t want to be the reason she burned. As soft and beautiful as her skin was, Harry was glad she only asked to rub her back and shoulders. If he had to do her legs or any other part of her body, he definitely would have passed out.

She spread herself out on her blanket. Book near her face. “I’m so going to fall asleep,” she yawned. “Will you wake me if I start to burn?” She asked.

Harry nodded wordlessly and brought his book up toward his face. “Sure, love,” he murmured. Hopefully not showing how smitten he was with her already.

Harry might have wormed his way into her heart as her favorite person ever. It was so unlike her to wake a total stranger from a nap. But he was one of the most beautiful men she had ever seen in her life. She couldn’t imagine letting him roast in the sun all morning and ruining his vacation. It was even more unlike her to invite him to sit with her.

She liked to believe she was a kind soul—most everyone told her that she was, so it wasn’t unnatural for her to invite him to hang out with her. But if it wasn’t for the fact that Harry was a teacher, it could have been a lot more dicey.

It was so easy to talk to Harry. The entire morning was so much better than she ever expected just by being in his presence or chatting with him. Other than her reading-nap—where Harry woke her up after an hour so she could reapply another layer of sunscreen—they talked literally the whole day. Harry didn’t mind putting sunscreen on her and she returned the favor when they switched positions so Harry could get some on his back.

Touching him might be her new favorite pastime.

She left a bit before Harry wanting to go for a walk and shower before eating dinner and reading a bit on her porch. Plus, she had to pace herself if she was going to last at the beach all summer. After her shower, she put on an oversized shirt like she wore to the beach and a pair of shorts. It looked like she wasn’t wearing pants but didn’t mind. The sun finally crested the top of her cottage, so she was no longer baking in the sun and made the porch the loveliest little place to read and enjoy the evening. She had a bowl of watermelon chunks beside her, and sunglasses perched on her nose.

Growing up she never loved summer all that much. Of course, she loved the beach and the time off from school, but she started working part time when she was fourteen and summer never had the same feeling as it did when she was young until she started teaching. Now she would tutor virtually some nights throughout the summer—especially for college students taking summer courses. But mostly she spent her time here in the little beach cottage her grandma had specifically named to her in her will after she saw how much she cared for it—especially since she was the only one in her family who had summers off and still cared about this little town. Once her grandma passed away, no one really felt the need to stay—her parents sold the home she grew up in. It wasn’t brokenly tragic that her grandma died—she was old, and these things happened. Besides, she felt by being in the little town she grew up in and living in the cottage left to her was enough to live her summers in honor of her grandmother.

Her mother technically owned the other cottage her grandmother had and while her mom really wanted to sell it, she insisted she would take care of it while she was here and tend to any renters.

Which is why her mother texted her at least once a week about the renter at the cottage just three houses down the road. Our renter said there’s only one towel. Any ideas?

She gasped wondering how it slipped her mind to take the towels out of the dryer and fold them neatly into the bathroom linen closet. On it. She responded and practically ran down the road. She knocked on the door to her second home away from home and waited for the person on the other side to answer. While waiting she noticed the little sign below the main window was crooked—fell off the hook again in the ocean wind. She needed to remember to bring a pair of pliers back to close the loop the next time she came over.

The two cottages were almost identical. Except this door was a sea blue and hers was a sea green. They were little wooden cottages, shingled top to bottom. Just two windows at the front of the house, two on the back, and one on each side. There were two skylights in the roof allowing for lots of natural light. Each home had two small bedrooms, a bathroom, a spacious sitting area and full kitchen. They were wall to wall hardwood floors even though her Grandma in the 70s tried very hard to convince everyone it needed carpeting. But try vacuuming sand out of a beach cottage all the time. Due to space behind the home, hers had a little patio but this one was fitted with a little patio and an outdoor shower.

The blue door opened while she was still putting the wood block that read Sea View back in it’s place. “Uh...hello?” He asked. She turned to find Harry, surprise all across his face, to see the girl he met earlier outside his rental.

Of course it was Harry. “Oh, how funny!” She chirped excited to see the gorgeous man from the beach once more—her plan right now was to not-so-casually run into him at the beach again the next day. “I should have asked where you were renting!”

He smirked. “Hi love,” he said sweetly, confused that she was here. “Uh...what are you doing here?”

“My family owns this cottage,” she explained. “Mom texted me that you don’t have towels? That’s my fault. Left them in the dryer when I was cleaning on turnover day. I’ll fold them now,” she said and marched herself inside and maneuvered through the familiar room with ease.

“Oh,” Harry said. “S’okay, love. I didn’t mean t’bother you—I would have found them eventually—”

“Absolutely not, it’s your vacation! You deserve clean towels and not have to worry about looking for things,” she was already piling the fluffy array of sea blue and green towels out of the dryer and began folding them expertly. “I’m going to leave you my number so if you need anything you can just ask me. I always tell her to just give them my number, but she worries about weirdos taking advantage of me,” she rolled her eyes.

What would possess me to say that to Harry?

He smiled as he watched her flurry of activity. Her rambling little monologue. She was definitely scaring him. It occurred to her at that moment she didn’t even wait to be invited into his space. Just strode right in. “Glad m’not a weirdo. I agree with y’mum. Think I would like her,” he nodded firmly.

She felt her face warm, and she hoped the tan hid the blush as much as possible. Harry’s nose and cheeks looked a bit red—like he caught a bit of a cold. The rest of his body was covered by a simple pair of jogging shorts and a simple t-shirt so she couldn’t see if he burned and also didn’t want to be caught staring at him—especially thinking about the abs he had on display under the litany of tattoos she saw earlier at the beach. “Well, I will fold these and get out of your hair,” she said focusing on the towels. But her brain glitched out once more. “Oh, do you like surfing?” She asked.

He chuckled leaning against the frame of the door leading to this utility room. “Only been once with a group of m’friends. S’not m’cup of tea. M’not very good.”

“Oh, okay. I just want to make sure I recommend everything you might like.”

He was smirking at her like she was a bit crazy—and she was—but Harry wasn’t helping. Without sunglasses she saw he had green eyes. Green. She was done before this even started. Once all the towels were folded, she made herself at home once more, hurrying to the bathroom to put all the towels in place. The bathroom smelled like men’s cologne: sandalwood and sage. Jesus Christ it’s like he was built in a lab for me.

Harry followed her as she put the towels away in an alternating pattern. “Thank you,” he said. “Y’really didn’t need t’do all that.”

“You’re the guest. You paid to get this kind of service,” she reminded him. “I’m also...only three houses down if you need something as well. It’s got a sign like yours below the window Sun-Kissed Cabana. My grandma named them.”

He nodded and stared at her for a few moments. She had only known Harry for all of five hours, but she could swear she knew his thoughts. He probably did think she was a bit crazy. “Do...do y’have plans for dinner?”

She felt her heart flutter. She was going to order her favorite pesto pasta dish from a local place that practically recognized her voice when she called. “Uh...no.”

“Would y’like t’go out with me in ‘bout an hour?” He asked.

She nodded eagerly. “Yes, please.”

She was finishing up her makeup when her phone vibrated with a second message from Harry. The first one was to alert her who was messaging Hiii, it’s Harry Xx. Followed by: Does this place have a fancy dress code?

No, no. Nothing fancy at all! They’ve def got a beach bar vibe.

Cool :) I’m ready when you are.

Shit. She wanted to curl her hair a bit and look extra nice but maybe that would have looked like she was trying too hard after she just got through telling him it wasn’t a fancy place. She had on a maxi dress. Black top nothing revealing and then the skirt pattern had sunflowers all over it. She would have to forgo the curls and instead pushed the front of her hair back with a headband. Just need like five more minutes.

I’m in no rush, love. Please take your time Xx.

She thought she was going to melt. Fortunately, her tanned skin hid most of the imperfections of her face. She also preferred maxi dresses because it hid the thickness of her thighs and more imperfections like bumps from shaving and bruises from whacking herself on her beach chair. She thought the style she chose also perfectly accentuated the curve of her waist. While it didn’t show off her cleavage—it was her personal belief her boobs were one of her better assets—she thought after a day at the beach with them on full display due to her bathing suit, dinner might be a little gentler without them in Harry’s face the whole time.

With a spritz of her perfume and gathering all her necessary belongings into her purse, slid on her favorite pair of sandals with gold brushed embellishments, and headed outside. There wasn’t really a discussion of how they would get there, but she decided to walk down the road back to Sea View. Harry was crouched by the sign, pliers in hand closing the very loop she said she would. “Oh, I’m sorry. You didn’t have to do that,” she said hurriedly feeling like a terrible hostess.

He turned and smiled at her. “No worries, love. S’easy. Jus’ found some pliers in the utility closet.”

“Well, thank you,” she murmured gratefully. Harry stood, putting the pliers just inside the doorway before locking it with the passcode. He turned to her.

“Is this place walking distance, or should I drive us?” He asked. His hair was fluffed in these beautiful chocolate waves that of course reminded her of the beach but made her want to bury her hands in it and kiss his perfect face until she was out of breath.

“Uh,” she didn’t think she wanted to walk in a dress, but maybe that was the experience of this vacation for him. Harry looked utterly comfortable but perfect (naturally) in a pair of navy-blue khaki shorts and grey short sleeve button down. The lack of sleeves showed off those tattoos that she was continuously falling for. On his feet he wore a pair of light grey sneakers. “We can walk, but it might take me a while in a dress and sandals.”

“Oh shit, of course. What m’I saying? Y’can’t walk in a pretty dress like that,” he said hurrying to the car and opening the passenger side. “After you, love. Jus’ need t’tell me the directions,” he smiled at her.

All the books she had brought to her summer vacation had a romantic flare to them. Her only thought was there should be a book written about this very day—meeting Harry at the beach and going on a date with him. It was impractical and a bit flighty of her to be so taken with him already.

But there was no way she could help it when he got in the driver’s seat, smiled at her with those dreamy dimples and his eyes twinkled at her behind those pretty lashes of his. “Y’look gorgeous, love.”

It was effortless how much he enjoyed her company. The idea that it was only his first full day and he had already had a good beach day and another good jog under his belt. The post-beach-and-jog shower was cold-watered but steamy as he thought of the pretty girl in her pretty bathing suit. He imagined her smile, the gentle curve of her lips as he wrapped his hand around his cock as the water cooled off his sweaty and warm skin for several minutes until he was finally relieved of seeing her...assets at the beach.

Seeing her immediately after he inquired about the lack of towels as soon as he had shorts on was like a dream. Her agreeing to dinner with a beautiful girl was not what he expected when he booked this trip six months ago. Only one day in and this was the best vacation he had ever been on.

They arrived at the restaurant and after searching through the menu in silence, they placed drinks and an appetizer to share.

Did he mention how effortless this all was? The conversation was once more not a moment of dullness. She was funny, beautiful, kind, and it seemed that everyone at the restaurant knew her at least a little bit. “Our sun-kissed angel is here!” A man shouted from across the patio where they were seated. Everyone turned to follow the gaze of the man and Harry smirked instead of being jealous because he was right. She was an angel. A tanned, lovely, gorgeous angel.

She rolled her eyes. “Harry, this is my friend Louis. I used to work here in the summer.”

“Before she went off an got a real job, like a traitor.”

Harry was fascinated by her, simply put. He wanted to spend forever at dinner with her. Chatting with her. Looking at her beautiful face. Envying how the sun got to kiss her, and he didn’t.

“Okay, well...we can’t not get ice cream,” she said knowingly.

“You just told the waiter you were too full for dessert,” he chuckled at her.

“You don’t get dessert at a restaurant when there are literally seven different ice cream shops within spitting distance,” she rolled her eyes. “Summer is for ice cream. If we hurry, we can see a sunset too.”

“Y’sure know how t’get the most out of a summer day.”

She frowned. “Oh...I’m sorry. I forget that you only have two weeks. We don’t have to. We can head back,” she said softly. “I’m sorry.”

“No, not at all, love. S’a great idea,” he reached out across the console and rested his hand on her thigh near her knee. With the long dress covering her legs, it wasn’t terribly inappropriate, but it was so instinctive to reach out and touch her he felt he made a mistake when she was suddenly speechless. Unable to tell Harry where to go to get her precious ice cream. “Er...sorry,” he said pulling his hand back to rest on the gearshift between them. “Should have asked,” he felt his face warm in embarrassment.

“N-no, it’s okay,” she nodded quickly. Her voice was breathy as she stammered. “I was...” She shook her head. “You can touch me—I mean,” she put a hand over her face in embarrassment at the encouragement she just gave him. Harry decided to quickly put her out of her misery—he did say tits after looking at her for thirty seconds this morning, even if she didn’t hear it. He gave her leg a gentle squeeze as he moved his hand back to where it was. She was silent again once more and she rested one hand over his. Letting a few of her fingers fill the space between his but not twining them fully together. “Is this okay?” She asked softly.

Harry melted over her sweetness. “Perfect.”

They ate their ice cream on the beach sitting on the tall, white lifeguard stand since it was late. There was a smattering of running kids, a few dogs, and families littered closer to the water on the tidal flats. But no one was over where they were. Up on the soft sand encroaching on the dunes. They chatted in between licks and bites of ice cream and Harry was certain he was falling deeper and deeper in love with her by the millisecond. It was ridiculous. Love at first sight couldn’t possibly be real. He had three or four serious girlfriends (four if you counted his junior high love affair, three if you didn’t) all of whom he did fall in love with but over the course of weeks and months. Not minutes and hours. Maybe it was the salt air playing with his brain chemistry.

Certainly, it had something to do with the beautiful girl sitting so close to him he could feel her sun-kissed skin warming him from the gentle breeze floating off the water as the sun started its descent over the horizon. She took her phone from her purse and snapped a picture quickly. Hardly looked at it, barely centered it, yet it was the most beautiful sunset picture he’d ever seen.

“Are y’a photographer in y’free time?” He asked.

She snorted. “No, I do like taking pictures. But I have hundreds of these,” she said showing him the photo album of various sunset pictures she had taken over the years. Harry could see why she was so good at them. No two pictures looked alike which had to be a poem somewhere out there. Harry always considered himself a winter—growing up in cold England would do that to a person—and no two snowflakes were alike. Snowflakes had nothing on her sunsets.

“D’you want t’take a picture together?” He asked quietly.

She smirked. “Do I have chocolate on my face?” She wrinkled her nose at him.

Chuckling, he shook his head. “No,” he promised. Harry wrapped an arm around her waist pulling her snuggly against him. “S’this okay?” he asked almost directly into her ear. She nodded and smiled as she flipped her camera around to selfie mode. Harry had one arm around her waist, the other holding his ice cream cone. She reached her arm out to take the picture while she held her cup of ice cream in her lap with the other. Gazing at her screen, Harry couldn’t believe how effortless it felt to touch her. It was so easy to talk to her. And they looked like the perfect beach couple. “Can y’send that to me?” He murmured in her ear once more. She nodded mutely. Harry didn’t remove his arm from around her waist and he continued eating his ice cream.

Once finished with their treat, they continued chatting and watching the sunset listening to the laughter of families on the beach. The sky was so pretty Harry thought that she was right. This was the best place on earth.

They walked back to their cottages hand in hand, Harry stopping outside the door for the place labeled Sun-Kissed Cabana. “S’that why Louis calls you a sun-kissed angel?”

She rolled her eyes. “He’s something else.”

Harry chuckled. Leaned forward and swept his lips on the apple of her cheek. “I had the perfect first day with you, love,” he said softly. “Sleep well,” he hummed and turned to walk three houses down. She pressed a hand on her cheek like a lovesick idiot. She nearly forgot the code to get into her own house and felt like floating all the way to her room where she giggled and kicked across her bed as she smiled into her pillow.

The next three days were spent almost the same as the first. The beach: complete with reading, naps, and lots of talking to the pretty girl he liked so much already. Followed by a run, a shower, and then dinner. Harry tried really hard not to touch her without asking. The only allowance he gave himself to touch her without asking was when he truly felt like her back was getting a little singed. On the second day she made the grilled chicken salad she told Harry she was going to make before he invited her to dinner, but once he informed her he was a pescetarian she hurried to the store to get him some fish to grill instead. It was totally unnecessary, and Harry felt guilty she spent money on him like that for dinner (even though he was insistent he pay for dinner and ice cream the first night). Regardless, it was a delicious salad paired with zucchini noodles that truly tasted just like pasta. Harry made her write the recipe down for him.

“I can’t run at all,” she wrinkled her nose when Harry offered to join her on her evening walk the following day.

“I’d rather walk with y’then, love,” he said softly with a smile. “If y’want company, that is.”

She wanted to say she wanted Harry’s company. But thought that was a bit too much. But they walked side by side, Harry gently ushering her to the inside of the road without making any fuss about it. They continued their comfortable chattering. Talking of anything and everything. That night they ordered pizza that was delivered to Sea View and watched a movie in his living room, her feet in his lap where he rubbed the soles of her aching feet without prompting or full acknowledgement.

By the end of the third day, she thought Harry might be her best friend. He made crispy cauliflower tacos. He spent the evening simply reading on her back porch with her in comfortable, perfect silence.

The fourth day, they were sitting on her back porch again, sipping bubbly wine spritzers that she put in glasses of ice and combined with a popsicle to match the flavors. Harry thought it was sinful the way she licked the pop. Harry wanted to jump her bones so very badly.

“How do you like the outdoor shower?” She asked looking up at the sky full of stars. There was a citronella candle between them to keep the bugs away and she had a solar set of lights strung about her little patio. She was in a soft warm glow from the lights. Once more, looking sun kissed. She was wearing a shorter dress than the other day, shorts beneath it. She informed him about the shorts because she said it was an athletic-type dress and she may have sat weird and didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.

Harry thought there wasn’t anything she could do to make him uncomfortable.

“I haven’t used it, actually. M’not sure I—”

She made an almost inhuman noise, a cross between a growl and gasp. It was quite adorable even if she seemed miffed and Harry wished he could have recorded the sound because he thought he would listen to it on loop for the rest of forever. “Harry!” She almost shouted. “The sole reason I took Sun-Kissed Cabana over Sea View was because I knew the outdoor shower would be a huge selling point for renters. You haven’t used it?” She looked nearly betrayed.

He chuckled, sipping his drink. “M’sorry, love. I didn’t realize—”

“Harry, I’m not kidding. You have to go use it. Like right now.”

He laughed loudly. If there could possibly be a downside of this little beach-cottage neighborhood, it would be that the houses were quite close, and Harry’s loud laughter could probably be heard back at his own place. But she was staring at him seriously. He thought she really expected him to get up and leave at this moment so he could get this experience.

“Y’serious?” He asked smirking at her.

“I don’t joke about the outdoor shower,” she promised him.

Finishing his popsicle and taking the last sips of his drink he stood from her little patio table and shook his head with a chuckle at her. “I guess m’going.”

He wanted to invite her. Especially if she didn’t have one here at Cabana. It sounded like she would like it more. “You better,” she continued licking the pop and Harry was grateful he would at least have a new image to think about in the outdoor shower when he imagined his hand around his dick was her mouth instead.

The air was cool but somehow warm. Sort of like the water on his skin. He could see the draw and actually surprised himself that he hadn’t used the shower yet. He imagined in the morning it would be heaven—most of his showers had been in the afternoon or evening since he was running at that time. But maybe he could take two showers a day—who cared? He was on vacation.

Was it heavenly? Her message read.

Harry thought about how much how active his imagination got picturing her in that shower with him, his hand fisting over himself until he imagined her pretty cleavage covered in him instead of flowing with the water down the drain. Extremely. But of course, he left out why it was so heavenly. You should write a book of recommendations for your guests.

:) You can come back over if you want. I know I kind of kicked you out, but like I said. I’m very serious about outdoor showers.

Chuckling to himself, he hurried to get dressed again and meet her back there.

She knew Harry’s family was coming today so she told him that she would give him all kinds of space but if he needed anything, he was not to hesitate to ask her. “M’mum and sister would love t’meet you, kitten,” he promised. He didn’t mean to call her kitten. But it rolled off the tongue so effortlessly and she was the one who said she felt like a cat in the sun. But he didn’t spend long thinking about it and continued his little speech. “Y’don’t have t’evade us.”

“I’m sure you want family time,” she promised. “Really, it’s fine. Plus, we’ll have a whole other week to do our little routine,” she felt her face warm as she spoke realizing she just told Harry she wanted to spend the remainder of his vacation together. She opened her mouth to backtrack almost instantly, but Harry beat her to the punch before she could speak again.

Given that Harry was this close to telling her he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her, another full week spent together seemed like a great idea. “I can’t wait,” he promised.

They decided to do a sunrise that morning. She brought a blanket and was wrapped up in a long sleeve shirt along with a pair of sweatpants. She advised Harry to do the same. “The air is still cool from the night when you get to the beach early,” she explained the night before they parted to go to bed.

They were laying on the blanket angled by the natural slope of the dunes so they could see the view of the sun cresting on the ocean horizon. “Do y’have as many sunrise pictures?” He asked tiredly. With the sun rising at just after five-thirty she was courteous and kind in asking that they get there at five so they could see the dawn and array of beautiful colors painting the sky before the sun got there.

She giggled. “No way. Too early to see it that many times. I do like sunrises more, though,” she said. “It’s so much quieter. It’s not as hot. I don’t know. I think sunrises are just so beautiful.”

He immediately, silently agreed with her that they were. No matter how much he was enjoying sunsets with her. He would wake up at 4:45 every day if it meant watching something she found beautiful, and it made her happy. Harry had her pulled to his side again, his arm looped beneath the back of her neck. His eyes were closed as he fiddled with a strand of her hair running his fingers through the soft tendrils. “Harry,” she whispered after a few minutes. Harry felt the edges of sleep and the dreamworld starting to meld together on his brain. “You’re gonna miss it,” her voice was so gentle. Perfect for morning. She was the most beautiful thing he had laid eyes on but he couldn't bring himself to open them right now.

“Hmm,” he hummed. Refusing to open his eyes. “S’okay. We can see it another day,” he mumbled.

She giggled. “Harry,” she whispered so gently. It felt like magic. Warmth spread through his whole body. “We woke up so early,” she reminded him.

He nodded. “M’sorry,” he sighed. “It’s so peaceful,” he muttered. “You’re warm,” he turned his face to bury his nose in her hair and he nuzzled closer to her. Harry being a cuddler didn’t surprise her. He was quite touchy. But this sent her heart into a frenzy, and she forgot why they were there.

“Harry,” she whispered again feeling brave. Maybe because it was too early, and her brain wasn’t functioning.

“Jus’ lemme sleep, kitten. Please?” He muttered into her hair. “Wake me in twenty-nine minutes.”

She swallowed. “But...I want to kiss you,” she sounded so shy.

Harry’s eyes sprung open, and he pulled back from her quickly to look at her beautiful, perfect face. “M’awake,” he promised and gently cupped her cheeks, his fingers slipping through her hair, and he brought her face closer to his. Kissing her like he had been dreaming about over the last five days was the only thing on his mind.

She moaned against his mouth and Harry was really looking forward to that outdoor shower now. She pressed against him, keening as she licked into his mouth, sucking on his lower lip. Driving him absolutely mad as she nipped at his lip gently with her teeth. She could feel herself squeezing her thighs together for relief because she was finally kissing Harry the way she wished she did at sunset on his first night here.

Harry’s hands were cool against her flushed cheeks. “Kitten,” he hummed against her mouth, pecking at her like he would die without her kisses. “Y’taste so good,” he sighed dreamily.

She rolled to her side to face him squarely while he returned to his side too, instead of hovering over her. He wrapped his arm around her waist pulling her against him. Over the past four days at the beach, she had tried really hard not to stare at whatever was going on in Harry’s swimsuit, so she didn’t look like a sex-maniac. But there was no way she could ignore the hard dick she felt against her thigh as she pressed against the full length of his body. She imagined Harry fucking her so hard in that outdoor shower that the neighbors would have no way of ignoring what was happening. She moaned at the idea once more against his lips, thighs pressing together.

“Oh no,” he hummed. If she wasn’t already so drunk in love with Harry after one date and four days together, she might have thought his voice sounded a bit mocking. Slowly, he rolled onto his back holding onto her and perching her body on top of him as he did. One of his legs separated her thighs apart. “Do y’need something from me, love?” He cooed almost lovingly at the idea she was aching between her legs. He kept her pulled down toward him so he could continue kissing her, effectively melting all coherent thought.

Holy shit, his voice. Oh my God.

Without meaning to, she clenched her legs once more, this time, wrapped around Harry’s thigh causing friction, despite two layers of sweatpants and her underwear (at least those were thin). “N-no,” she almost whimpered trying to get away from his leg. Harry put his hands on her hips and gently pressed her back down toward him while bending his knee a bit. His thigh came closer in contact with her so if she wanted to, she could rub right against him.

“Y’sure, love? You look like y’might need something,” his voice was so sultry. It was too early for this. His eyes were somehow a deeper green. His lips were too pink after kissing her.

“N-no,” she shook her head despite wanting nothing more than to grind her pelvis against his thigh. She knew what it looked like beneath the sweatpants. She knew the tattoos that dotted his skin. Fuck, she wanted to get herself off so bad. But she was acutely aware of her position and tried to lift herself off his leg. “I-I think m’too heavy,” she stammered again.

He groaned and pulled her tighter against his leg. “No way, angel,” he promised. “Go ahead, know y’want to. I want y’to,” his voice was a bit husky. Like he was a bit confused. She groaned softly. God she wanted to. “That’s it,” he encouraged as she ground herself against him.

She felt flush, wishing she wasn’t wearing sweatpants. They were getting in the way. The long sleeve shirt was making her warmer. Or maybe it was Harry that was making her warm. Harry helped shift her hips back and forth against his leg as she moaned and whimpered as she rutted against his thigh. “Y’look so pretty, kitten,” he cooed. “Getting off on m’thigh like that. S’making me so hard, love. Fuck,” he moaned. “You’re s’pretty.”

She continued creating friction on between the two of them worried she would give herself a burn from all the fabric rubbing together but she was so fucking wet she was certain she would slide easily against him if she could take her pants off in public. The sun was still rising, not quite up over the horizon yet, but the sky was brighter, creating a gorgeous image of her beautiful body silhouetted from the light. “S’good, so good, baby,” he groaned. She whined and continued rutting herself against him.

“Harry,” she croaked.

“Yeah, love? Y’gonna come for me? Gonna come from jus’ m’thigh?”

Jesus Christ, she felt like she was a virgin. She was almost certain she was. Had she ever even had an orgasm before Harry? When was the last time she had sex? When was the last time she masturbated? Holy shit. This was bad. He was all consuming and he was fully clothed, and it was just his thigh.

She nodded at his words. Even though she felt a bit silly and stupid for doing this, with two layers of sweatpants between them. “Yeah? Good, want y’to. Y’look so pretty all—”

“Fucking hell,” she whimpered and dropped her face to his chest as she twitched against him. Harry flexed his muscle, gripping her hips and rubbing her against him so he could help her ride out the waves of her orgasm for a few moments. After that, Harry dropped his knee once more, letting her flatten against him. He kissed her forehead as she breathed heavily against him, shaky and sighing as she let the euphoria course through her. He rubbed up and down her back as she did, and he breathed deeply into her hair. She smelled like sunscreen and coconut.

“I really like sunrises,” he murmured. She smirked. Her face against his chest. “Y’sleepy, now, kitten?”

She nodded. “Yeah,” her voice was a bit quiet. Almost unsure. “Sorry,” she mumbled, nuzzling her face against his shirt.

He shook his head, kissing the top of her hair once more. “Don’t be sorry. Been thinking ‘bout y’coming all over me since I met you.”

She giggled. “Yeah?”

Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t very...flattering on his part. It also made it sound like he only liked her for the idea of sex. Which wasn’t the case. He liked her so much simply because she was the sweetest, nicest person he had had the pleasure of meeting for a really long time.

She rolled off him. He kind of hated it because even though it wasn’t freezing cold, it felt like it now that she wasn’t laying on his body. She looked at the outline of the bulge stretching against his gray sweatpants. It was still ten minutes until the sun would be touching the horizon. “Fair’s fair, yeah?” She wondered, looking up at him and then back down at the somehow growing outline. She would be lucky if he fit in her mouth.

“Angel, y’don’t have to jus’ because—”

She frowned. “Do...you not want me to?” She wondered, confused and worried that he was rejecting her. She didn’t know why if he had just used her thigh to get him off.

“No, no,” he said quickly wanting to ease the worry he saw fill her beautiful face. God he would rather die than reject her. “I mean...y’can do whatever y’want to m’body,” he nodded eagerly. “Jus’ don’t want you t’think you have to. Been thinking ‘bout—” his voice choked off as she outlined the bulge. “Oh...s’nice,” he moaned forgetting everything he was saying about what she could do to him. Her fingertip simply ran along absent-minded paths along his length. He struggled to remember the last time he had sex because he could only imagine the episode in the outdoor shower as the last time he orgasmed.

She giggled. “Nice?” She questioned; Harry was so polite. The way he walked with her on the inside of the road, the way he held her door open no matter if they were going in the house or the car, or if he simply carried her heavy cooler off the beach even though he was carrying his own belongings. For him to say it was nice the way she was touching his dick was simply...something else.

He nodded breathlessly. “Yeah,” he was already too far gone with just her goddamn finger touching him. He couldn’t have made any comment further if he wanted to. He moaned as she squeezed gently along the length of him. Five minutes till sunrise and the beach would be covered in light. She glanced around quickly, seeing they were still alone. She had never done this in the five years she had been staying the summer back in town keeping an eye on Sea View while living in Sun-Kissed Cabana.

“Do you think I could make you come in five minutes?” She whispered.

He groaned almost animalistically. “Love, I think y’could make me come in forty-five seconds,” he promised. And with that, she dipped her head toward his waist just until the sun was ready to cross over the horizon.

It was quite difficult not to text Harry all day long while his family visited. It was entirely due to having an orgasm at his hand (thigh); the creeping need to bond to the person who just made her entire world flip upside down was a prominent feeling throughout her body the whole day. The words of her book didn’t make any sense, so she opted for cleaning her bathroom. But that proved to be difficult too, and she spilled most of the mop water back onto the floor. After another fit of cleaning that up, she decided to spend her time at the grocery store since she was getting dangerously low on her much-needed items. She nearly forgot to go to the checkout line. After putting everything away she thought about just going to bed at three in the afternoon just to rid her mind of how crazy she was being and how awkwardly she missed her summer guy.

Fortunately, Harry broke first, before she fell asleep.

I know it’s silly, but I miss you terribly.

She felt so much relief reading his message. Oh, thank God. Me too.

You really should just come over. Mum and Gemma want to meet you. I won’t shut up about you. It’s...a bit pathetic how obsessed I sound actually. Mum’s in the outdoor shower while Gemma is taking pictures of the beach. We’re going to have dinner in a bit—you should join us. He put this shy little emoji after his message.

She was currently dressed in a pair of bike shorts and t-shirt that fell past her hips, barely a strip of the shorts showed. She had her hair pulled back by a claw clip. She wanted to go over there immediately. However, her outfit and hair did not look ready to meet Harry’s family. Plus, she was worried she would do something stupid like sit in Harry’s lap in front of his mother and sister and then she would have to jump out a window to hide her infatuation.

I would love to, but really...I’m sure they want to see you.

They want to ‘meet the girl that’s got me all flustered’ that I nearly dropped all our snack bar food in the sand today :)

She giggled. Glad he was also affected by their sunrise romp in the sand. Maybe tomorrow? She hedged instead. She really didn’t want to intrude.

Please, love. That would be wonderful.

She must have fallen asleep anyway. But she woke up to a knock at her door. She felt the claw clip sliding out of the back of her hair and she rubbed her eye as she made her way over. There stood Harry and two women outside the screen door. Each of them was holding a dish of (presumably) food. Immediately, she felt underdressed and stupid looking. “Uh, hey beautiful,” he smiled gently. “Sorry t’bother you. But seems the barbeque back there is out of gas,” he explained. “I sent y’a text—”

“Harry, the poor girl was sleeping,” his mother admonished. “I told you we could just go out to eat. Love, m’so sorry. I swear some days he was raised in a barn!” She shook her head. “We’ll leave you be.”

“No, no,” she shook her head quickly, the clip clattering from the ends of her hair to the floor. She felt her face warm, once more grateful for the tan skin to hide most of the blush rushing to her cheeks. She opened the door for them to enter and quickly swept the clip into her hands. “Make yourselves at home,” she said, and Harry ushered his mother toward the kitchen and out the back door toward the patio and grill. Gemma walked slower behind her family to give some reassurance to the girl who was struggling to fix her hair in the little entry way mirror.

“M’sorry about both of them in advance,” Gemma whispered. “Harry hasn’t been able to function normally all day and Mum is already in love with you. When you didn’t answer, it was the first coherent thought Mum had about not begging to see you and thus began Harry pacing waiting all of four minutes for your response before he said we could just come over like absolute lunatics.”

Oh God she liked Gemma. “Thank you. I’m so sorry I look like this,” she winced at the image of her reflection. She was all frizz and pillow lines from the couch where she fell asleep.

She snorted. “Please, we interrupted your evening. Your quiet time and relaxation. Don’t worry about it. You look beautiful,” she promised pressing a hand on her arm and headed after her brother and mother.

If she wasn't already--which she was pretty sure she was--Harry’s lovely little family was going to ensure she fell so hopelessly and terribly in love with Harry.

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lustfulslxt · 5 months

Note

Dom!Chris makes his girl wear one of those vibrators that’s controlled by an app while they’re in public and tells her any noise she lets slip out is an extra spanking she gets while she’s bent over his lap later 🤭

Trouble - Chris Sturniolo

warnings : dirty dirty nsfw, dom!chris, spanking, use of toys

—

“We have to get it!” Chris exclaims, shoving the item in my face.

I can’t help the chuckle that emits from my mouth as I push his arm away, so that I can actually see what he’s holding. As I’m reading it, he impatiently shuffles on his feet.

“Come on, you’ll love it!” He whines, trying to convince me.

That’s when I realize it’s a vibrator that you can sync to your phone through the We-Vibe app, and control the settings that way. My face heats up at his comment, suggesting that I would love it, because he’s absolutely right.

“I don’t know.” I say, pretending to be unsure.

“Oh, please! This would bring you to your knees for me.” He taunts, his lips curving into a smirk.

My eyes go wide and I turn my head to the side, avoiding his gaze for a split second. When I look forward, I see him looking at me with a proud smile on his face as he nods his head.

“Yep! We’re getting it.” He states, walking to the register with it.

Biting my bottom lip to prevent my lips from growing into a wide smile, I follow behind him, giddy and excited for what’s to come. We get to the register, and Chris hands the box to the cashier with that same smile on his face, a smile of accomplishment. He turns to look at me, sending me a quick wink that lights my insides on fire. He doesn’t have to do much of anything at all, I’m always ready and eager for him.

Chris pays and grabs the now bagged box, tossing an arm around me and pulling me into him. “Let’s go, lover.”

We get out to the car and Chris instantly opens the door for me, planting a kiss on my cheek before closing my door and happily skipping to his side. He gets behind the wheel, reaching back to set the bag on the backseat.

“I cannot wait to use this on you.” He grins, starting the car up.

I watch as he puts the gear in reverse, then places his arm behind my seat and looks back to watch as we pull out of our parking spot. He notices me staring and a smirk pulls to his lips as he puts the car in drive and starts our trip home.

“You’re so cute, I love you.” He smiles, placing his right hand on my thigh as he holds the wheel with his left.

“I love you more.” I say, softly rubbing his hand on my thigh, before pulling my phone out to begin our music playlist.

Chris and I have been together for almost three years, and it’s been nothing short of amazing. He’s always been good to me, and we hardly ever seriously fight, but if we do, he’s quick to make things right before we end the day. He’s very loving and it shows through all of his gestures; gifts, compliments, the way he speaks of me to others, the way he talks to me, how he touches me.

Don’t get me wrong, he can be a real sweetheart in the bedroom; gentle with his touch, sweet talking me, never pushing me to my limits. Other times, he’s a nasty freak. I love both versions of him, in my opinion, it’s a perfect mix. He gives me whatever I need, whenever I need it. If I need soft Chris, he’s exactly that, making love to me in such a sensual way. If I need hard Chris, he’s exactly that, fucking me dumb until I can’t take it anymore.

I just know, with this new toy we got, I’m getting the freak tonight, and I can’t be more thrilled.

“Baby, do you want to go to dinner tonight?” Chris asks, turning down our street. “Nick asked me earlier, and I just remembered.”

“Oh, sure.” I respond, “What time?”

“I think he said around six, but I’ll have to double check to make sure.”

“Sounds good.” I smile at him.

I look at the time on my phone and see that it says 2:12, which gives me enough time to possibly take a nap before having to get ready. I don’t need to do much but shower, get dressed, and maybe a light makeup look, so I could definitely squeeze in a two hour nap.

“Can we take a nap when we get in?” I ask him as we pull into the driveway, “Before dinner.”

“Already planned on it, baby.” He grins at me, shutting the car off once we enter the garage.

He grabs the bag from the back and gets out of the car, quickly walking over to my side, opening the door for me. Grabbing my hand, he helps me out and shuts the door for me. Before he can walk us inside, I stop in my tracks, causing him to halt and expectantly look at me.

“What’s up?” He asks.

I grab his cheeks and pull him into me, placing my lips on his, giving him a soft and sweet kiss. Sometimes, I just need to show him I love him, especially when he’s a gentleman.

“You’re the best, let’s go.” I smile to him, pulling him to the door.

He smiles back at me, squeezing my hand in return and following in suit. We get inside and immediately head over to our room. Chris places the bag on his dresser, both of us kicking off our shoes. I instantly jump in bed, sprawling out beneath the blankets, Chris repeating my actions.

I flip onto my side, him pulling against me, our bodies meeting to create a much appreciated warmth. His arm rests around me, his hand up my shirt and holding my breast. My body’s firmly pressed against his, his breath hitting my neck as he pulls me impossibly closer. I scoot back, pressing my ass against his crotch, very slightly shifting to tease him just a bit. It doesn’t take long at all before I can feel his dick stiffening behind me, poking into my cheek.

“Y/N, what do you think you’re doing?” Chris asks in a warning tone.

“Napping?” I retort, feigning confusion as if it were nothing but obvious.

“Don’t play with me, or we’ll skip dinner and I’ll fuck you into tomorrow.” He whispers in my ear, his hand tightening around my boob.

Chris has always been able to see right through me, whatever it is, he can read me like a book. There was no hiding anything from him, he knows me like the back of his hand.

“That actually sounds more appetizing than dinner.” I whisper back, pushing my lower half into his even harder.

In one swift motion, he flips me onto my back and is hovering over me. His right knee is placed in between my legs, as his other leg straddles mine, his erection sitting directly on my thigh. Both of his hands are set on the sides of my head as he holds himself upright, staring down at me. His lips faintly brush against mine, but pull away before I can capture them in a kiss. He drags them across my cheek, leaving my skin beneath him tingling.

He makes his way toward my ear, kissing right below it and pressing a few kisses on my neck. I can’t help my heavy breathing at this point, he always knew what got to me. His mouth reaches my ear once again and he plants a wet kiss onto it. I feel his tongue run across my earlobe before his mouth wraps around it, sucking softly, eliciting a soft moan from my lips. Suddenly, his hand grips my jaw and he slams his mouth on mine, shoving his tongue in my mouth as he kisses me deeply.

“Be a good girl for me tonight, and I’ll give you everything you want and more.” He says once he pulls away.

I’m physically incapable of saying anything as he repositions us once more, now laying behind me again. I can’t help but feel his hard on pressed into me, and I want nothing more than to take him right now. I can practically feel his smirk against my neck, already knowing he feels proud for getting me worked up. He never fails to leave me stuck stupid, anticipating what’s to come.

—

“Baby, you almost ready?” I hear Chris call out from the bedroom.

Emerging from the bathroom with a sheepish look on my face, I look down to the towel wrapped around me. I literally just got out of the shower, and he wants to know if I’m almost ready.

“Bro.” He deadpans once he takes my appearance in. “I thought you maybe only had lip gloss to put on or something, and here you come, completely wet and naked.”

Despite his complaints, I can see his pupils dilate as his eyes roam my glistening body. He licks his lips at the sight of me, before bringing his hands in front of him, showing me what he’s holding; the vibrator we had bought earlier.

“It’s sanitized and ready for use.” He grins, holding it out for me.

“You wanna use this at dinner?” I ask as I take it from him.

“Yes.” He nods, “Doesn’t it sound exciting? Risking an orgasm while we’re out in public?”

I shyly smile at him, nodding my head in agreement. He pumps his fist in the air, cheering in satisfaction. I just shake my head with a giggle coming from my mouth, then grab my clothes and head into the bathroom. I quickly get dressed and put the vibrator in place, eager to see how the night goes. After exiting the bathroom, I brush my hair and apply products like deodorant, lotion, and perfume. Deciding to skip my makeup, I just slip my shoes and grab my purse, sliding my phone in it.

“I’m ready.” I tell Chris, who’s now scrolling on his phone as he sits on the bed.

He looks up and smiles at me, standing up and placing a kiss on my head. “You look gorgeous, let’s go.”

Once we made it out to the van, Chris and I sat in the back, with Nick and Matt up front. It’s just us four for dinner, and I’m glad because I don’t know how brutal Chris is going to be, and I’d rather not lose my mind in front of a bunch of people.

Nick’s music played throughout the car, faint conversation coming from the two up front. My mind was drifting from them talking, to the music playing, to Chris’ hand rubbing my thigh. Suddenly, I could feel vibrations on my core, emitting a very loud gasp from my mouth.

“Are you good?” Nick asks, eyeing me from the front seat.

I clear my throat and swallow nothing, “Uh, yeah. Sorry.”

I have no excuse to give him, unable to use my brain properly as the vibrations continue rushing through my bundle of nerves. I look at Chris, noticing the wide smirk on his lips as he watches me fidget in my seat. I take in a deep breath, pressing my feet into the floor of the van in an attempt to relieve myself of the pleasure. Luckily, the vibrator stops as Chris pushes my hair out of my ear.

“Any noise you make tonight is an extra spanking you’re getting when I bend you over later.” He mutters into my ear.

My pussy’s actually throbbing, desperate for stimulation, aching for him to be inside of me. I can’t help but squeeze my thighs together, trying to feel any sort of pressure. I want nothing more than for him to bend me over and rail me as we speak, and having to wait for it had me gritting my teeth.

Throughout the rest of the ride, Chris hadn’t turned on the vibrator, letting me drop my guard of course. Once we get out and head into the restaurant, Nick walks ahead of us to speak with the host. Within a minute, we are being directed to our table for the evening.

As soon as I take my seat, the vibrations start back up, causing me to abruptly jerk and let out a small whimper. Of course, Nick and Matt look at me in confusion while Chris tries his best to conceal his growing smile.

I clear my throat again, trying to ignore the sensation coursing through me. “Sorry, cramps.”

The two boys nod, understanding, before their eyes are directed to their menus. I look over at Chris with a glare on my face, which only prompts him to turn the settings higher. I drag my bottom lip into my mouth, biting down hard to prevent any sounds that are threatening to come from my mouth.

“That’s two, baby.” He states, only loud enough for me to hear.

“Two?!” I ask, eyes widening.

“Mhm.” He nods, his smile evident. “Just now, and in the car.”

“That’s so unfair.” I say, pointing out how he started this game after the first slip up.

“Them’s the rules, ma.” He chuckles, adjusting his grip on his phone.

I can’t help but watch closely, unsure of when he was going to stop the vibrator, or turn it up. I’m on the edge of my seat, metaphorically, but also literally. I can’t bring myself to get comfortable, knowing Chris would use it to his advantage.

As the waiter walks over, I can feel the vibrations growing stronger, causing me to tense. I don’t have to see my face to know that it’s deep red, I can actually feel how hot it is. Taking in a deep breath, my hands clutch my thighs, needing something, anything.

“Hello, my name is Noah, and I’ll be your waiter tonight. Can I start you off with some drinks?”

“Root beer, please.”

“I’ll have a Dr. Pepper.”

“Pepsi for me, thank you.”

Everyone looks at me, expectantly, but I can’t even speak. I’m scared my voice will betray me, showing that I was in a pleasurable struggle. I glance at Chris, my eyes begging him.

Instead of turning off the toy, he smiled at the waiter, “She’ll have a Dr. Pepper as well.”

“Okay, I will be back with those shortly and take your order then.”

As soon as he walked away, Matt and Nick turn to each other, then to Chris, then to me.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Matt asks.

Nick continues, “You seem really off.”

Before I can even attempt to spit a word out, the vibrations increased even more, causing my jaw to drop as I deeply inhale. Luckily, just as quick as it came, it all stopped.

“I’m good.” I say, my breath a little erratic.

I can see the two are not convinced, but I really don’t have it in me to make up a story that’ll lead them astray. Fortunately, they drop it and return to their menus once again. Chris’ hand comes in contact with my thigh, rubbing dangerously close to my core, I can feel the heat from his fingers.

“You’re so hot when you struggle to be quiet.” He whispers into my ear.

I ignore him, biting my lip as I attempt to regulate my breathing. We all quickly decide what we want to eat just as the waiter comes back with our drinks. After ordering our food, we dive into different conversations.

“We should get little canvases and paint together.” Nick suggests, smiling at the rest of us.

“That sounds so fun! I love painting.” I agree.

“We could get different types of cartoons or even blank canvases, both would be fun.” Matt adds.

Chris hasn’t said a word, so I look over and see him buried into his phone. As if feeling my gaze, his head lifts up with a devilish grin on his face. Immediately, I feel the buzzing between my legs, more intense than it’s been all night. My eyes shoot open as a lewd moan falls from my mouth, I quickly cover it with an exaggerated cough. Chris shakes his head, tsking me.

My mouth falls open again, silent moans coming from it. Chris continues to knead my thigh, adding to the pleasure that was coursing through me. I can feel the knot build in my stomach, close to unraveling. I lay my head down on the edge of the table and quickly grab Chris’ hand from my leg, using it to muffle the sounds that were sure to leave my mouth. As the pressure continued building, I clench myself around the vibrator, extremely close to letting go. I bring my mouth to his palm, biting at the skin in order to silence the inevitable moans pouring out of me as I can’t help but give into the orgasm, releasing all over as my legs tremble.

“Shame on you, cumming without daddy’s permission. You’re in big trouble when we get home, baby.” Chris says to me, his voice raspy.

“We need to go.” I plead, now extremely aware of the wet mess in my pants.

“Sorry boys, Y/N’s gonna be sick. I think I should bring her home. I’ll cashapp you for the dinner.” Chris announces, standing up and reaching for my hand.

“Feel better.” Nick and Matt say in unison.

With that, Chris is pulling me to the exit of the restaurant. As soon as we make it outside, he’s guiding me to a car that’s parked on the side of the road.

“I ordered an uber. I knew you weren’t gonna make it.” He informs me, sensing my confusion.

We get in the car, immediately starting our journey home. Throughout the whole ride, Chris gets handsy with me; rubbing and touching every part of me. He is just as eager as I am. As soon as the car comes to a stop outside our place, Chris is bidding the driver goodbye and dragging me inside.

We make our way downstairs to our bedroom, shutting and locking the door. Instantly, he has me pinned against it, his lips slamming onto mine in a feverish kiss. One of his hands wraps around my throat, the other diving straight into my pants. He grabs the vibrator, pulling it out and wrapping his mouth around it, sucking my juices off. I can’t help the whimper that leaves my mouth, nothing but turned on by the sight.

He sets the toy on the dresser next to us, his hands now going for my shirt, swiftly removing it with ease. His lips meet mine again, his tongue entering and exploring my mouth. His hands are groping every inch of me, feeling me up and down, causing moans to emit from me. As his mouth works down my neck, his hands go behind me and unbuckle the strap of my bra, letting it fall loosely on my arms before he pulls the entire thing off. His hands find their way to my breasts, squeezing them and tweaking my nipples.

We’re moving in such a fast and hurried pace, hungry for one another. Each of us could only ever be what the other needed in times like this, and right now, we were both insatiable. You would think we’ve been deprived of pleasure like this our whole lives, now finally having a taste and not being able to get enough of it. But that isn’t true. Our sex life has always been more than fulfilling, but there’s something about him that makes me go feral.

His hands unbuckle my jeans, letting me remove them as he takes off his shirt. I’m not left in nothing but my underwear, him in his still in his pants. He slides his finger in the waistband of my panties, tugging it and letting it snap back into place. He raises an eyebrow at me, nodding his head towards my bottoms, indicating he wants me to take them off, so I do.

“Go sit.” He states, intently watching me.

I do as he says, sitting pretty on the edge of the bed, watching his every move. He stands in front of me, his eyes blown out and full of lust as he looks down on me. Remaining eye contact, he slowly begins unbuckling his belt. In such a slow pace, he pulls it from his pants, folding it up and setting it aside. His fingers then grasp the button of his pants, undoing it, all whilst still looking me in my eyes. He lets his pants fall, leaving him in his very restricting boxers, as his dick stands tall, creating a tent in the clothing material.

He steps directly in front of me, his hard on now eye level with me, directly in front of my face. He puts a hand on the back of my head, bringing me closer to his erection. His opposite hand palms himself through his boxers, rubbing his cloth covered member over my lips. Just as I’m about to put my mouth on him, he pushes my head back.

“As much as I want to have your pretty little mouth around my cock, it’s gonna have to be another time.” He says, “You remember how many you’re getting?”

“Three.” I whisper, my breath hitching in anticipation as I stare up at him with doe eyes.

“Four. Doubled because you’re a bad girl and came before I said you could.” He smirks, licking his lips.

His hand wraps around my neck, trailing up to my jaw. He’s directly above me, staring down at me with his hungry eyes as his thumb trails over my bottom lip. He pulls it down, letting the pad of his finger keep it in place.

“Suck.” He states, leaving no room for questions.

I take his finger into my mouth, licking and sucking just as he wanted me too. He’s then pulling me up from the bed, his hand once again around my neck. His lips meet mine in a soft and tender kiss, opposite of how I know he’s going to be in mere seconds. Switching places with me, he’s now against the bed as I stand in front of him. He sits down and pats his lap, aware that we both know that I know the drill. I lay across his lap, my bare ass laid out perfectly, awaiting my punishment.

“You know what to do if you need me to stop?” He asks, his hands palming both cheeks.

“I-I remember.” I nod, my breathing slightly picking up.

“Count. If you fuck up, we start over.” He reminds me, his voice sickly sweet.

Just as I give him a hum of confirmation, his hand strikes down, a loud smack echoing the room, a stinging pain following in suit, as well as a yelp from me.

“One.” I moan out, his hand now rubbing the tingling area.

Another smack.

“Two.”

Another smack.

“Three.”

Another smack.”

“F-four.” I cry out, my skin undoubtedly red.

We repeat the process another four times, time seemingly moving in slow motion until we reach the last spank. My ass now tender and tears falling down my cheeks as he kneaded both cheeks, soothing the pain, eliciting moans from me and a pool of wetness between my thighs.

“Such a good girl for me.” He praises, flipping me around on his lap so I’m now straddling him. “You’re so beautiful, ma. I can’t wait to wreck you.”

With that, his lips are on mine, hungrily kissing me. We move in sync, our lips lapping one another perfectly. His hands continue massaging my ass, the stinging pain dissipating with every motion. A moan escapes my lips and he uses the opportunity to shove his tongue in my mouth, swapping saliva. One of his hands travels in between us, coming down to my heat. His cool fingers come in contact with my clit, rubbing it ever so slightly, causing me to whine into his mouth.

He pulls away from me, lifting me from his lap as he stands. “Bend over.”

I follow his order once again, my torso laid out the bed with my ass on show as my legs hang down to the floor. I hear him shuffling behind me, realizing he’s removing his boxers when I look back. He lifts one of my legs up, giving him better access to me. His fingers find my folds again, running through them, slicking them with my arousal. I moan at the feeling, pushing my ass closer into him for more.

“So wet and needy for daddy.” He smirks, grabbing his dick and placing it at my entrance.

He softly pushes the tip in, rubbing my clit as he does so. He takes it back out, before repeating the same action. Next, he’s slamming into me with no warning. A loud scream falls from my lips, molding into a moan as it dies down. He begins thrusting into me, his pace building quickly, pulling me closer to him so he could fuck me deeper.

He lets out a low groan, “I love the way your pussy welcomes me inside, because it knows we were made for each other.”

“Fuck, daddy, you feel so good.” I moan out, my face immediately scrunching in pleasure.

His takes my hair and puts it in a makeshift ponytail, wrapping it around his hand for leverage, tugging it with every thrust into me. My mouth is hung open, pornographic noises falling from it left and right, unable to contain my pleasure. His strokes increase in speed and strength, my entire body jerking at his new pace.

“Look at you, you’re taking me so well baby.” He moans out, his breathing heavy.

“Mhm.” I whimper in agreement, overwhelmed with pleasure.

“Gonna cum all over my cock, baby?” He asks, his pelvis digging into my ass with every pump.

“Yes, daddy. I’m so close.” I cry out, the familiar knot building in my stomach for the second time tonight.

His free hand reached below me, meeting my clit and rubbing fast, tight circles into it. I was a writhing mess beneath him, unable to form a single thought as he fucks me senseless. With the rough pounding and the stimulation on my clit, I’m in tears. It’s so much, but it feels so good. I can feel the drool falling from my mouth, quite literally being fucked dumb.

“I know you’re close, mama. Let go.” He says, sending me over the edge.

My legs shake and quiver, my fists clenching the sheet beneath me so hard that my knuckles turn white. My face contorts with pleasure as my vision goes white, metaphorical stars spinning around me as I do, in fact, let go. His thrusts continue, never faulting in the slightest. His hand never wavers, still rubbing my extremely sensitive bundle of nerves.

“T-too much.” I cry, not able to come down from my first orgasm.

“You can do it, mama.” He whispers from above me, placing wet kisses along my back.

Him repeatedly hitting my g spot, his fingers working my clit, and his mouth leaving goosebumps down my skin is enough to send me overboard once more. Tears streaming down my face as I cum for the third time, silent moans escaping my mouth as I bury my face into the bed. I can hear him moaning behind me, his hips sputtering as his thrusts fall uneven. Seconds later, his hot load is shooting into me as throaty groans emit from his mouth. He continues fucking his nut into me, his pace now slow and soft, before he pulls out altogether.

His hands meet my ass as he holds himself up for a moment, catching his breath. I lay there, spent, feeling his presence disappear for a minute, only for him to return mere seconds later. My legs are suddenly spread, a warm wash cloth wiping up the mess we made, causing me to slightly flinch before sighing in contentment. He cleans me and himself up, before putting me to bed properly, as all of my energy left my body with every orgasm. He crawls into bed with me, wrapping both of us in a blanket, and planting a soft kiss to my lips, my cheek, and my forehead.

“I love you, pretty girl. So good to me, mama.”

—

a/n : not proofread sorry. hope you enjoy! send in more reqs pls 🫶🏼

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #chris sturniolo #imagine #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo triplets smut #sturniolo fanfic #request #one shot #inbox open

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darklyndivinely · 5 months

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lucifer cuddling and napping hcs!! i need to hold his hand while we both nap so he can destress :( maybe a little spice too.. 😈

A/N - Thank you for the ask, anon! I love soft!Luci as much as anyone else so I really enjoyed this. Unfortunately, no spice :( It wasn't fitting the vibe. Hope you still like it!

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Lucifer is a big napper.

We all know his sleep schedule is fucked. He gets in bed at three in the night then wakes up four hours later for breakfast and RAD. Naps, therefore, act as middle ground. They rejuvenate him, help refocus his mind, and don't require hours like sleep does. It's common to knock on his study only to discover him asleep amidst his paperwork or on the couch by the fireplace.

He also has developed a habit of resting his head against the back of the sofa and sneaking some shut eye during movie nights. He thinks nobody notices since it's dark and he always makes sure to wake up before the credits roll around. He's wrong; everyone knows, they just let him be.

Lucifer is also touch starved. He yearns to hold, be held, snuggle and be snuggled. It's a rare kind of intimacy for him and sometimes the depth of his desire stuns him. He's comfortable finding ways to keep physical contact with you in some way by now. He's mastered the craft of it actually: a hand on your back to guide you in crowds, a soft caress on the head when he finds you unbelievably adorable in the moment but can't find the words to express it, tracing the juts of your knuckles with his thumb during date nights at Ristorante Six, gently pressing his lips to your forehead when you're walking back home because you look so beautiful with the moonlight shading you and he's so grateful of your presence in his life.

First time he ends up napping with you is a random Sunday. His eyes are hurting from squinting at paperwork all morning and half of noon; he's decided to stretch his muscles by a walk around the house. You are sprawled on the sofa in the living room, the fire bathing you in gentle warmth, on the verge of falling asleep. He stops beside you, frowning softly at your figure. You catch sight of his shoes, look up and promptly clasp the fabric of his trousers to pull him closer. He struggles. He's got work, he can't sleep, it's so public. Huffing, you say, "You're tired. Shut up and come here."

You tug again and he gives in to your sleep-riddled eyes and scrunched forehead, slotting himself beside you on the sofa. The thought of being like this, laid beside you in the living room is whirling through his mind, the sheer vulnerability of it draping itself over him like a heavy, uncomfortable blanket. You circle an arm around his torso, burying the other in the crevice between your bodies, your face nuzzling the skin of his exposed collarbone, and all his worries evaporate into inexistence. There are some fluttering thoughts then, but mostly it's a deep feeling of contentment that makes his chest feel light and golden. He'll lapse into silence if you tease him later, but you know that he loved the experience.

He's very meticulous about his naps. Decides the duration based on his workload and urgency. Puts up alarms and makes sure not to oversleep. It becomes common for him to seek you out during his designated nap hour then to check if you're free. If you are, fully expect him to drag you to your room, settle on the bed, pull you close and clock out.

He also enjoys being the little spoon. More than he probably should, actually. So don't you utter a word about it out loud or he'll make you eat hot sauce for all your meals for a whole week. If you ever end up sneaking into his bed during nighttime, don't be afraid to slither against his back and snuggle into him. When he'll wake, his cheeks will pinken and he'll hold your hands against his torso just a tad bit tighter, forgoing the ringing of his alarm for the heat of your embrace instead.

He could get used to this.

#darkly and divinely written #obey me x reader #obey me #lucifer x reader #obey me shall we date #lucifer x you #lucifer fluff #shall we date obey me #obey me!

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ofstardustanddreaming · 16 days

Text

touch starved

preference summary: how the characters react to you being touch starved.

content warnings: none

fandom: jujutsu kaisen

characters: gojo, geto, nanami, choso, toji

gender neutral reader

Gojo: He's a clingy person himself, so he's a good person to go to for any needs you have when it comes to wanting contact. He'll be a bit teasing about it, but he loves when you hang off him.

"Hey baby, what's up?" He asks, your body slowly coming into his frame of view as you approach him on the couch. He was scrolling on his phone, one of his few days off. Normally he would want to cling to you, but today he was feeling a bit mean and wanted to see if you would ask for some of the touch you so dearly love.

"Not much. Just wanted to see what you were doing." He couldn't help but to cave and pull you into him though, both of you now lying down on the couch. He couldn't do it to you much longer, the sad look on your face was too much for him to handle. He wanted to be close to you, wanting to feel your warmth.

It makes you relax into his touch, glad you were able to get what you wanted. The light touches to your spine causing you to shiver, leaning into the weight of his touch when he slings his legs over yours. It feels like peace in the early mornings to receive touch from Gojo, finally being able to relax for once after a strenuous mission.

Geto: He more quiet about his clinginess, also a bit touch starved himself. He's appreciative whenever you take the initiative to touch him in some way, wanting to drown in your touch.

"Oh, sweet thing, what's on your mind, hm?" He asks when he feels your arms wrap around his waist from the back as he's finishing up his coffee, right next to the bay windows, staring into the backyard. Your voice is muffled though, from speaking into his back, and he has to twist around in your arms to be able to face you. He takes a finger to maneuver your face to speak in a way he could hear you.

"Repeat that, lovely." He says, laughing at your grumbling about how he was being unfair.

"Just wanted your touch." He hums, relishing in your touch as well, wrapping his arms around you. He loves taking a few moments before the work day to really get any last minute touch in, pressing his lips onto your face, breathing in the peaceful moments.

Nanami: He's an intuitive man, he knows that you're more touch starved. He doesn't make you beg for touch, he ghosts his hands over you teasingly, sure, but he always gives into touching you.

It was nearing bedtime, a time when you were feeling more clingy and wanting Nanami's touch. But you were too nervous to ask, not wanting to give off the vibes of actually being clingy. But, fortunately for you, Nanami knew you like the back of his hand. He clambers into bed, a long day of sorcerer work, and pulled you into his embrace.

"How'd you know?" You murmur into his chest, wrapping yourself into his embrace. His feather light touches causing goosebumps, causing you to lightly shiver.

"I always know you. We've been together for so long, I will always know you." He responds, now adding the touch that felt more grounded. He wraps you deeper into his embrace, feeling like a weighted blanket as you both drift off to sleep.

Choso: He would intertwine himself with you all day if he could, to remind you that you always had someone to lean on if you wanted it. He loves contact with you, and takes any chance to prove it to you.

"Hey love bug." He says, coming up to you in the bedroom, where you were trying to wake yourself up from the nap. You turn to him, holding your arms out for him to come into bed with you. He leaps at the chance, always loving your silent asks for touch. It makes him feel loved too.

He feels warm, some of the weight he has on you feeling like a blanket and you sigh. You thread your hands through his hair, and he leans into that touch. He strokes his hands up and down your sides, reveling in the soft sounds of laughter you create when he tickles you.

"Thank you for hopping in bed with me. Maybe I can be convinced into another nap." You laugh, feeling comfort at the touch that Choso gives you.

Toji: He's a bit more standoffish, a little more unaware of your touch starvation. It just means he doesn't register it when you lean into his touch, where you're glad that he's much more of a handsy person.

"You know, I really love when you're handsy." You blurt out one evening, the both of you cuddling into the late morning. He looks down at you, confused at the outburst of your declaration as his hand rubs up and down your arm slowly.

"Just because it feels nice and I never really receive it. I like it a lot." You try to back track and explain what you mean, missing Toji's wolfish grin at you. He pulls you on top of him, causing a squeak to come out of you at the unexpectedness of it.

"Yeah? Well, just know you'll never have to ask for it around me." He says, pulling you deep in for a kiss. His touch was always around you, and he kept true to his word. You never had to ask for any sort of touch again, his touchiness happening at any moment he could get his hands on you.

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sinsandsweetness · 6 months

Note

Please for the love of god write something about Rick chasing the reader down in the woods I’d DIE

(Rick and Daryl x fem!reader)

cw- reader already has a baby with the boys, reader being chased in a maze, threesome, smut, slight breeding kink… think that’s all…

notes- happy Halloween! This is a fun little one shot placed in Alexandria. It is a follow up of “taking turns” however you don’t need to read it to read this. It’s just the same relationship, a couple years later. I had a few requests for a follow up and for some chasing/hunting vibes so… here you go! I won’t lie this is a bit rushed and not proofread at all so I apologize for any errors or if it’s not my best… but i hope you enjoy and tell me what you think<3

“Alright,” Rick breathes out with a sigh, dropping the large box onto the ground. Daryl right behind him with another.

The kids run over. Judith, at just 4 years old, Gracie, Sam, Carl and a few of the older kids and teens in Alexandria. Your own baby coos in your arms. Incoherent, yet adorable babbles leave her mouth, with chubby little hands grabbing into the air in the direction of her daddy.

While Rick cuts open the cardboard box of costumes, Daryl sneaks away from the cluster of children, all way too excited to get their hands on a cape and a mask. Or a dress and a tiara.

“C’mhere, sweetheart,” he grabs your daughter from your arms. Immediately she’s smiling all big and giggling into his jacket.

“Were you good for your mama while I was gone?” He whispers against her dark curls before pressing a kiss to her head.

“She just missed you, I think.” You respond. In reality, she was fussy. You figured that would happen after two nights without her dad. Daryl definitely being her favourite parent.

The kids are noisy as they ooh and awe and fight over the Halloween costumes.

Rick finally makes his own escape with a costume cowboy hat on his head.

“Hey, officer,” you tip your head up for a kiss as he wraps his arms around your waist. Eager to hug you. To touch you.

He stays holding you for a moment. Just soaking in your warmth.

“Miss me?”

“Every minute.” He confirms against your mouth for one last kiss, before moving to kiss your daughters cheek.

“How’s our little princess?” He asks to no one in particular.

“She missed her daddies. Kept me up all night.”

“What?” Rick faked a shocked tone, “our little princess would never. That doesn’t sound like her at all, does it?” He runs his hand over her hair and plants a kiss on her head.

You roll your eyes but your smile peaks out anyway. The sight of your men being such good fathers will never fail to make you smile.

“Daddy! Daddy look!” Judith’s high pitched voice brings attention as she tugs at Ricks pant leg.

When the three of you turn to look, she’s dressed in a unicorn onesie. Adorable. A bit warm for the weather. But adorable.

Rick picks her up with a groan, “oh my goodness, almost too big for this, aren’t you?”

She nuzzles into Ricks chest, little arms wrapping around his neck.

“I think someone needs a little snooze before all the festivities tonight, hm? You feelin’ a little tired, Judy?” He asks her. You don’t hear anything but you see the white fluffy ears on her hood move up and down as she nods into her fathers shirt.

“This little rascal should have one too.” You nod towards your own sleepy girl, “I can go put em’ both down for a nap.”

“Nah, I’ll do it.” Daryl insists.

“Are you sure-“

“I’ve got it.” He scoops Judith up in one arm, balanced on his hip and very happy to be carried to bed. A snuggly little 6 month old on his other. He starts off upstairs and leaves you and Rick in the living room. Surrounded by a foam sword fight battle that appears to have ensued between a couple ninja turtles and a fairy Princess.

The whole reason for Rick and Daryl’s last run was to find these costumes. Among other Halloween decorations and as much candy as they could salvage. Anything to make it a special day. To show the kids what things used to be like. To remind the ones who did know, exactly how fun the holidays were. You weren’t even sure it was Halloween. Sure, the leaves were beautiful tones of orange and yellow, falling to the ground and crunching beneath your shoes. But you arent sure what day it was. Honestly, you arent entirely sure what month it is. However, according to Eugene’s calendar, It is in fact the 31st of October.

Ricks head tips low to your ear and he whispers an invitation to go shower. He needs to clean up. And he really wouldn’t mind some company.

“Carol,” he turns for a moment and nods to her in the kitchen, prepping some food for tonight. “Can you…” he motions to the living room full of children running around. Carol nods and you can hear her telling them to beat it and go play outside while you’re led up the stairs by the hand.

—

The party is supposed to start at 7. Carol offered to take your daughter for the night, to give you some time off. To have fun. To go to sleep early if that’s what you wanted.

It’s a bit cold out. So you’re in a cream knit sweater and some jeans. A pair of cheap bunny ears are on your head. Your daughter is dressed in the smallest costume you could find in the box, a plush orange carrot. And she’s the cutest carrot you’ve ever seen, that’s for sure.

There’s wine. Lots. And food. And candy. Eugene is setting up a spooky film to be played on a projecter in the middle of Alexandria. A few bonfires surround the yard, scattered with jack-o-lanterns. Carved and lit up with tea lights and glowing eyes.

It’s beautiful. Slightly spooky. And so familiar. It’s everything you remember about Halloween.

An arm snaking around your waist startles you as you sip on your wine. But the smell of smoke and leather soothes you quickly.

“Hey,” Daryl says. You turn to face him, only slightly confused as his voice is being muffled by something.

He’s wearing a mask. A scream mask more specifically. The rest of his attire is typical. His leather jacket on, though no vest tonight. Dark jeans and boots.

“Mmm, spooky.” You lean in and press a quick peck to the white plastic. You can’t see him smile under the mask, but you know it’s there.

Another arm wraps around your waist from the other side. It’s Rick. You know by the thick brown jacket brushing against you. He’s also in costume, wearing a Friday the 13th hockey mask.

“Well hello, Jason,” you tease.

“You scared yet?”

“Should I be?” You ask. Though you’re pretty sure you know the answer.

Rick opens his mouth to respond but is interrupted by some commotion from the yard.

Eugene has a microphone, standing on a picnic table and telling the crowd to sit down and get comfy. That the movie will be starting in two minutes.

“Well, are you two ready for some Hocus Pocus?” You ask.

They look at eachother through the masks. What the hell are they plotting?

“What…?” You finally ask.

“We were thinking… maybe we could do something a little different.”

“What, you wanna watch something else?”

“Not quite,” Daryl chimes in, “we were thinking that while everyone is watching the movie, the three of us can make our way through the corn maze.”

The maze is outside the walls of Alexandria. A bit dangerous, but it was part of the fun. The kids had all had their turns in it earlier in the day, heavily supervised by adults and parents. Ones with weapons and training for situations outside the safety of the walls.

“You want us to all get lost in the maze?” You bite your bottom lip and smile.

“We want you to get lost in the maze,” Daryl corrects you.

Rick dips down to your ear and lowers his voice, “and we’ll try and find you. Play a little game.”

“Grown up hide and seek?” You ask. Heat raising to your cheeks at the thought of what they want to do once they find you.

“Exactly.”

You swallow, looking back to the yard where the kids are all lid out in sleeping bags and on blankets. Focused on the film playing in the dark.

“Ok.”

“We’ll give you a two minute head start,” Rick hands you a switch blade. Just incase. Nodding towards the back fence, where you know you can sneak out without being caught. Your heart is already starting to race a little at the thought of having to hide. At the thought of them searching for you. Hunting you down. And Daryl’s little comment when you start off towards the fence doesn’t help either,

“Good luck, little bunny.”

—

It’s pitch black when you reach the maze. Actually, as soon as you made it over the wall and into the woods, it was dark. But inside the maze, the stalks of corn all towering over 10 feet tall and fluttering creepily in the breeze. The only light you can see is a faint glow from the moon. And even then, it’s only when you’re out of the shadows.

You walk into the maze. Immediately met by multiple twists and turns. You weren’t one of the supervisors earlier, so you really didn’t know the route. The straw and leaves crunch under your feet as you walk further into the maze. A quick, brisk walk trying to find the best place to hide. Or, if you’re lucky, to find the end of the maze before the boys even get in.

But you know that’s unrealistic. And you’re sure your two minutes must be up because you can hear them. Footsteps and muffled voices behind a couple walls of corn. Shit.

You start to walk faster. A borderline jog at this point, trying to keep your footing light.

It didn’t occur to you until now how easy it’ll be for them to find you. Daryl’s a hunter for Christ sake. He’ll be able to track your path through the maze in no time.

They’re closer.

Fuck.

You have to run. You can hear their voices. They’re so close.

“You’re gonna have to be quicker than that, baby.” Ricks voice rings out towards you. He’s on the other side of the wall. Through the thick corn stalks and the pitch black of the night, you can’t make out exactly where he is. But he’s close.

You run.

And they follow right after.

The sound of their footsteps is clearer and clearer the further away from Alexandria you get. And the further into the maze.

You shriek at the feeling of a hand on your sweater, jolting forward and starting to sprint. It was Daryl. He’s behind you.

And though him and Rick are both stronger, you have one advantage. You’re faster.

Over your shoulder as you sprint you can see them. White masks still on, glowing in the moonlight.

“Fuck”, you swear to yourself when you

come to a dead end. You only have two options. Turn around, or be caught. They couldn’t be more than a few seconds away.

Without really thinking, you shove your way through the stalks. Catching on every leaf and stick, but ultimately coming out the other side without a scrape.

You can’t celebrate your quick thinking victory too long because you still hear them.

“Split up,” Daryl whisper shouts at his friend, and with their footsteps scattered, it’s even harder to tell where they are.

Fuck.

You keep going. You take a left. And then a right and another dead end. Shit. Is this … is this the same one?

You turn back and take the left instead. But it’s another dead end.

What the fuck?

You’re lost. You don’t even know what direction you came from anymore. Circling the same two dead ends before you finally take a right that leads you a couple meters further than the other options.

You hear a stick crack on the ground behind you, but there’s no time to see who it is.

You turn the corner fast with your heartbeat so loud it drums in your ears.

“Shit,” you stumble right into a brown jacket in front of you. Arms wrapping around you and picking you up. You scream.

Someone warm presses against your back as your feet touch the floor again.

You’re trapped.

“Gotcha,” Daryl’s gravelly voice is already in your ear.

You’re breathing heavy in their hold, sandwiched between the two men.

Their hands grab at your sweater and start to roam.

“Take this off,” a voice demands as you struggle against their arms,

You try for a moment to reach the mask covering Ricks face. But Daryl, or maybe Rick’s, hands are clamped on your wrist.

It’s claustrophobic, but you don’t entirely mind. As long as it’s their arms your trapped between, you’ll never complain.

They don’t kiss you. They can’t. But everything about their demeanour is screaming that they want you. That they want to be in you.

Hands gripping and tugging at your jeans. Your hands snake around Ricks neck in front of you as they peel your jeans down your legs. The air is cold and gives you goosebumps, but your legs wrap around his waist immediately. Daryl’s bulge pokes at your ass while his hand trails under your sweater to pinch your nipple. Ricks pants are tight as his own bulge rubs against the thin fabric of your panties. Your jeans long lost to the straw and dirt ground underneath you.

It doesn’t take long for them to get you how they need you.

Granted, the three of you did have a lot of practice. Your panties swiftly ripped off by the man behind you who wanted more access. The cold metal of both their belts hit your skin.

And with little preparation other than some spit and arousal, you’re stretched to the max with both men. Both holes filled with very little regard for your comfort.

They know you’d say something if it really hurt.

But it hurts so good. The pain of being so fucking full. Stretched to a limit you’d experienced over a dozen times, but no matter what, it just never gets any easier.

“Wanna kiss you,” your voice comes out in wet gasps, lips brushing the plastic of Ricks mask. One hand trying for Daryl’s hood, reaching awkwardly around. You need their touch. Their lips on your lips. Tongues tracing each-other and fighting for dominance.

They’d win.

They always do.

The three of you find a rhythm quickly. Hands on your thighs, holding you up and using you as leverage to pound as fast and hard as they could. Your moans and their grunts fill the air as pleasure starts to swirl low on your abdomen.

“Please,” your head tips back in ecstasy. “Please, please,”

“Please what, sweet girl?” The cold plastic of Daryl’s mask brushes your ear.

“Please- want- uh,” you’re interrupted by sharper thrusts from the two men, catching you off guard. Their both picking up their pace.

“Speak up, darling.” Rick demands, nails digging into your hips.

“Fill me up,” you gasp again. “Want it so bad, Rick, please.”

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to focus on the swirl in your stomach. The one that keeps getting warmer and warmer and warmer until-

“I’m cumming,” you tell them as a courtesy, but you don’t have to. The way you’re involuntarily clenching down around them gives you away far better than a couple raspy words.

“You really wanna get filled up, baby? Bred like the little bunny you are, huh?” Ricks words send you over the edge and a hand toys at the fluffy rabbit ears that are shockingly still secured on top of your head.

You’re out of words. Too stimulated to talk. So you just nod in agreement. Yes. Please. Please.

Their hips stutter to a stop and warm liquid seeps out to drool down your inner thigh.

Breathing heavy, you’re lowered back to the ground, colder now. without the friction of their bodies.

“Here,” Daryl grabs your jeans from the ground and dresses you again. His soft side peaking out now that he’s had his release. Your shoes are back on and your legs a little shaky, and finally, the boys finally take their masks off. The whites of their eyes are bright in the moonlight.

“You alright?” They both ask you as the three of you somehow manage to find your way back out of the maze.

“A little cold…” you smirk.

“But we didn’t-we didn’t scare you too bad right?”

“No.” You smile, “Don’t know if I could ever get that scared by you too love bugs.” You tease, arms wrapping around their waists and pulling them in close to you.

“Pfft,” Daryl brushes off the comment and Rick only smiles.

“Well if we didn’t scare you, then maybe next time we oughta try a little harder.”

“Next time?” You ask. The thought already going straight between your thighs.

The boys share a look over your shoulders that can only mean one thing.

“Hey, baby,” Rick catches your attention, hand guiding you towards the community gates by the small of your back as he searches in his jacket pocket for his keys. “You ever been to a house of mirrors?”

#rick x reader #rick x you #rick x y/n #Rick grimes x reader #Rick grimes x you #rick grimes x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #Daryl Dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n #Daryl x you #Daryl x reader #rickyl x you #rickyl x reader #rickyl x reader smut #rick x daryl x reader #rick x reader x daryl #taking turns part 2

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drabblesandimagines · 4 months

Text

Dove (part six)

Leon Kennedy x female reader - the slowest, slow burn I swear Part one. Part two. Part three. Part four. Part five.

After the two of you had finished dinner, you’d began clicking through the channels in search of something to watch. It was far too early to go to bed, or even pretend to go to it - you’d just be staring at the ceiling, alone with your thoughts. Leon had insisted on taking the dishes to the kitchen despite your offer to help, said he’d leave them in the sink to soak. You know that’s a task you’re not going to be able to handle until your arm is free of the sling, fingers unsplintered. You want to say you’ll do all the cooking and cleaning when you can, but that implies that you think you’ll still be in the safe house, with him, in however long it’ll take to be free of the sling...

By all intents and purposes, Leon had planned to wait until you’d gone to bed to pull together his report, but the fact that Hunnigan hadn’t replied to his text yet was giving him an unsettled feeling in his gut. Maybe she was doing it on purpose, tit for tat - no information for him until he gave information to her.

After setting the dishes and pan in soapy water to return to later, he’d come back to the sofa and picked the laptop up off the coffee table, almost reluctantly.

“Er, I’m gonna start my report now, if that’s all right?”

You look at him, noting the laptop now tucked under his arm. The report, of course – he hadn’t typed it up yet, couldn’t have, not when you’d sobbed and then napped all over him.

It’s like emotional whiplash - the soft, almost domestic moments where you could pretend this whole situation was normal - it’s dinner and a movie with a friend, first date vibes but both of you too cautious to make a move.

And then there’s the startling reminder that, no, actually, you’re not even home, in a one-bedroom bungalow, no idea where you are in the state, or what state, with a man, a bodyguard you hardly know, after very nearly being murdered the day before and could possibly be murdered in the days to come.

You must’ve stared too long in response as he raises his arm to rub the back of his head – you wonder if it’s a nervous habit.

“It’s nothing to worry about, Dove. The report’s just a formality after the interview earlier, and it’s better that I submit today. It’s fine if you’d prefer not to be in the room, though. If you’re not comfortable, I can wait until you’ve gone to bed.”

“Oh… No, go ahead.”

“Are you sure? I’ll be listening over the audio again but I’ll use headphones, so…”

“Yeah. It’s fine – needs to be done, as you said.” You smile, turning your head back to the TV to end the conversation.

Leon had sat on the other couch, laptop resting on his knees, plugged in a pair of in-ear headphones. For over an hour, you’d heard him tap away at the keys, brows furrowed in concentration when you’d chance a look his way. The last few times his eyes haven’t been on the laptop screen but that of the TV, watching the dumb romance movie you’d settled on during your channel searching, hoping it would prove a good distraction.

“Leon…” You feel rude for interrupting his work, but he’d tugged out an earbud, hasn’t typed anything in a good while now, definitely not since the last ad break.

Not that you were keeping track.

“Mm?” He hums in response.

“Can I…?” He looks over as you clear your throat - start over. “Can I ask you something? If you’ve got a minute.”

There it is - the encouraging smile. “Of course, Dove.”

“It’s going to sound stupid, but those things – were they BOWs?”

“The Lickers?” The smile drops as he tugs out the other earbud. “Yeah, they are.”

“Lickers?” It sounds too cutesy for what they are, like a lollipop brand for kids and not indescribable monstrosities.

“There’s probably some scientific name that Umbrella would use, but that term came from a cop that first saw them in the Raccoon City Police Department. I guess we kinda kept the name as a weird tribute.”

“Right.” Maybe it was the cop’s way of trying to make them less terrifying on first sight.

“Why do you ask?”

“I didn’t think BOWs were actually…” You swallow, though you know it’s not going to dislodge the lump in your throat now. “..things, if that makes sense. Like, I knew we were trying to protect the public from biological warfare threats, but I thought it was man-made diseases, or poisoning the water supply… That sort of stuff.”

“You’re not wrong. Those things were once human, mutated by a man-made virus. I’ve had a fair amount of experience with different iterations of the virus over the years, unfortunately.”

“Mutated…?” You feel sick as the image once again flashes in your mind’s eye, the grotesque features of the Lickers juxtaposed with those of humans, your colleagues… “Fuck.”

“Yeah - fuck.”

“God,” you exhale, but it doesn’t feel enough. “I’ve been so naïve to what I’ve even been doing all these years - I didn’t know what we were actually trying to prevent.”

“You sound like you think you’ve been doing something wrong.”

“Well, maybe I have.” You protest. “What if I missed something that led to that the other day?”

“You did not miss anything.” He says firmly, closing the laptop – you’re not sure if he’s concluded his report or not. “Is that what happened to everyone - they were infected and then they mutated into those… those things?” You can’t bring yourself to say the identifier out loud.

“No, Dove, the… The bodies they recovered matched with the amount of people signed into the premises. Excluding you, obviously.”

“So, someone brought them there and set them on us?”

“Maybe. They’re still working on how they got in the building. They don’t exactly use doors, so…” He laughs, though it’s half-hearted.

The lump feels too big in your throat, tears burn at your eyes as you drop your head down but you know you’re not quick enough.

Leon stands, soft footsteps on the carpet as he circles round the coffee table and sits down a cushion’s width away from you.

“Sorry – it was a bad joke.”

You shake your head, sniffling a little, eyes fixed on your thighs. “No, it’s not that, or you. It’s so stupid, but I wish I could go back and stop it…”

“I know.” He places a hand down on the sofa, swivels his knees in your direction. “But it doesn’t help to think like that – trust me. And I know it’s hard, but you’ve got to keep going.”

“And you’ve faced those things before.”

“More times than I’d like to count.”

“How do you stop them?” You look up then, wiping away the tears from your cheek with the heel of your left hand.

“You couldn’t have done anything differently back there, if that’s what you’re thinking. A couple of gunshots to the head or an explosion is the only thing that’ll stop them.”

“You can’t… you know, turn them back?”

He shakes his head, looking solemn. “Afraid not.”

“Maybe for the best. I don’t think I’d want to be turned back if I’d…” If you’d ripped off your colleague’s head.

“Hey, that is not going to happen to you.” He leans forward, places his hand on your knee - having you fall asleep in his arms earlier has removed all sort of boundaries, it seems. “I promise.”

You shake your head then. “You can’t promise that.”

“I can. I am going to keep you safe.” He pauses – wind it in a little, Kennedy. “And if it makes you feel better, you won’t be the first. Want my credentials? I rescued the President’s daughter from a cult, got her home safe.”

“The President’s daughter?” You hadn’t heard about that, but then again why would you? Probably wouldn’t want it announced to the world that the leader of the free world’s daughter had been abducted.

“Mm. She had a codename and all – Baby Eagle.”

“But you would know her name.”

“Yeah, but still used codenames on official comms.”

“So, what would happen if I told you my name?”

“Er, well, I’d…” There’s the arm raise, rubbing the back of his neck again. “I’d have to report in to HQ that your identity had been compromised, I’d be redeployed elsewhere and you’d get a new security detail.”

“Why?”

“Part of your protection is that I’m not a risk of revealing your identity if hostile forces used… certain methods of interrogation if we were to be captured.”

Your stomach twists at the code. “Torture?”

“I suppose.” He shrugs, like he’s going to collect your mail or water your plants when you’re on vacation as a favour.

“No, you can’t… How can you shrug at the prospect of being tortured for me? You don’t even know me.”

Leon wants to say he does know you, not completely but there’s things he’s picked up over the course of the day that he feels reasonably confident on. You don’t do good with sitting idle, has the feeling you keep yourself busy when you’re not locked in four walls. He got the feeling you’re thorough and proud of your work, or you were before this doubt crept in.

You like coffee with a splash of creamer, honey in your oatmeal. You don’t have any close friends or family nearby that will be wondering why you’ve gone AWOL just yet… ..and you’re definitely single, because if you had someone waiting at home you would’ve mentioned it they spoke about whisking you away to a safe house, or when Hunnigan said she was going to search your place.

He smiles. “I know you don’t deserve any of what’s happened to you over the last 24 hours, and that’s reason enough.”

“How can you be so sure I don’t?”

“Experience, Dove. Been in this line of work for a long time and, more importantly, I’ve been where you’ve been, okay?”

“Okay.” You nod, relenting. “Sorry, my head’s just…”

He squeezes your knee. “I know.”

You leave the bathroom later that evening – Leon had ducked in at some point and prepared your toothbrush again – and find him leaned over the sink, scrubbing at a pan and a cloth draped over his shoulder. He’s left out the medicine – two painkillers, two sleeping pills - on the counter, next to a glass of water. It feels oddly domesticated again for what all of this is.

You walk over to the counter, slowly, as he continues washing the dishes.

“I forgot to ask earlier. Have there been any updates?”

He turns, gives you a sympathetic smile. “Not yet. But it’s only the first full day of the investigation, so I’m sure I’ll hear something soon, especially since I’ve sent the report over.”

He’d sent it whilst you were in the bathroom, half-expected Hunnigan to ring right there and then but his cell had remained silent, so he’d moved his attention to the dishes.

“Yeah, suppose other things will take precedence too.” Other things meaning families to inform… What would they tell them?

You take a swig of water before picking up the pills, swallowing them all down in one. Knowing how quick the sleeping aids helped yesterday, you’re aware there’s only a limited time before you’ll feel the effects kick in.

“Well, goodnight, Leon.”

“Wait a sec.” He pulls the cloth off his shoulders and hurriedly dries his hands as you watch on, curiously. He fiddles with the watch around his wrist, pressing a button on the side, then undoing the strap before he holds it out to you. “Here, so you can tell the time. I know there’s no clock in there, so…”

You stare at the offering, not raising your hand to take it. “But what about you?”

“Got my cell.” He pats his pocket, then holds the watch out again. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

You step forward to take it, gripping it a little too tightly in your fingers. It must be your imagination because it feels warm, but that can’t be right.

“Sleep well, Dove.”

Without another thought, you lean up on your tip-toes and press a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

“Thank you.”

You swivel on your heels and walk into the bedroom, closing the door without looking back, missing out on the sight of a flustered DSO agent in the kitchen.

If it wasn’t for the sleeping pills now coursing their way through your system, you would’ve been up for hours longer, heart pounding at what you just did. Instead, you climb into bed, close your eyes and it isn’t long at all until sleep washes over you, his watch still clasped in your hand.

Leon’s phone finally vibrates with Hunnigan’s caller ID as he enters back into the living area after finishing his perimeter check. Had to do two rounds of the building because he knew he was too distracted on the first by your kiss, admonishing himself for being so put out of joint by a simple gesture. After his second, more thorough check of the area and confident there was still no sign of any unwanted guests, he’d headed back into the building, making sure everything was locked up before he answered the call – placing the phone up to his ear on the opposite cheek that you had kissed.

“Hunnigan!” He answers, a little too jovial, would lower if his voice if he wasn’t confident you’ll be fast asleep by the amount of time that’s passed since you took your medication. “I was getting worried you’d forgotten all about me.”

“I’m sure.” Her voice is a little tense, but he can tell she’s tired. “Just finished your report.”

“And?”

“Well, it’s not exactly airtight.”

He rubs the bridge of his nose, holding in a sigh. “What happened to innocent before proven guilty?”

“That’s why I’ve put Dove in a safehouse with you, rather than in a cell.”

“So, restrictions remain?”

“Restrictions remain.”

He rolls his eyes, grateful it’s not a video call. “Did you search her place?”

“Unfortunately not. The President wanted the surveillance department back up and running ASAP, so all available manpower had been diverted to that. The tech analyst, however, has confirmed that the breach on the database yesterday wasn’t what you’d call successful.”

Leon walks around the sofa, drops on it a little too heavy. “You don’t sound particularly thrilled by that.”

“I’m not - the attempt itself was successful, but as soon as the system detected the forced entry, it wiped itself. Every subject that was still under surveillance has been lost.”

“Maybe that’s what they were trying to achieve.” He frowns. “Is there seriously no back-up server?”

“Analyst seemed to think it was their protocol, but it’s just a theory. Everyone who knew exactly how that division had their server set up is no longer with us.”

There’s a pause and he can hear Hunnigan tapping away at her keyboard as usual. “There is something I need to inform you of, though.”

“Right.”

“The tech analyst found the CCTV feeds have been tapped. They couldn’t trace where the feed was being diverted to, but it was definitely a system not within the DSO infrastructure. It’d been active since the attack, but they cut the connection when they discovered it.”

Leon frowns. “So, you’re saying that whoever orchestrated the attack could’ve been watching the cameras since.”

“Mm.”

“And if their objective was to leave no survivors…” Leon’s eyes focus on your bedroom door.

Hunnigan stops typing. “They’ll know they’ve failed.”

Part seven.

Masterlist . Requests welcome . Commissions/Ko-Fi

Comments, follows, likes and reblogs make my day!

#ghostdogwrites #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you

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garoujo · 1 year

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✩ ˛˚ . NAGI SEISHIRO ; — sometimes nagi’s want for you keeps him up at night.

warnings: f!reader, all characters written 22+, just v sleepy needy vibes! note: i swear this was like my first or second nagi post i ever wrote but i posted on private for some reason (?) so i’m reposting! idk why i’ve just let it rot for a bit ^_^

it's 4am and he's got practice in two hours, nagi realises, but the last thing he wants to do is sleep right now when he's pressing himself into you.

his forearms sink into the pillows to either side of your head as his own rests in the crook of your neck, he can feel the push of your tits against his chest and his abdomen twitches against your own everytime he rolls and grinds into you. sinking his cock even deeper into your plush walls as he feels you jolt underneath him.

"you're—ah! you're gonna be sleepy, sei." you gasp as your nails scratch underneath the neckline of nagi's shirt, and he thinks you sound pretty when your voice is still thick with sleep, eyes resting closed as your features break with the pleasure he digs out of you.

"eh, i guess.. but need you more than sleep right now, pretty thing." he couldn't help myself, not when you feel so warm when you're pressed against him - thigh thrown over his hips as you hug yourself closer.

nagi was normally a heavy sleeper, even more so when he's comfy and he always was when he had you next to him. but that just happened to be his downfall today, when the warm press of your figure roused him with the heavy weight in his cock.

he can feel the weight of his arousal consume the fatigue that he knows will kick his ass at training in a few hours, his eyes still heavy with sleep as he nuzzles into you. but your body feels like silk against his and suddenly for someone so lazy, his stamina feels limitless when you feel this fucking good.

your toes curl with the next particularly deep kiss of his cock, making your voice break with your next exhale of his name before his pace stutters on his next thrust. "ffuck—sound so pretty, can gimme more, angel.” nagi groans, low and breathy as his lips trace along the crook of your shoulder - leaving suckled, wet kisses against the skin with every particularly tight squeeze of your walls around him.

even when you both barely have a grip on clarity, he still feels so fucking good with every heavy, wet grind of his hips into yours — the blunt head grazing just right along the sweet spots where he knows you need him most.

you can barely breathe with how deep it feels like nagi reaches, caging you against the mattress as his pelvis rubs along your swollen clit everytime he sinks into you. you're both so sensitive - both still caught in a dreamy mindset that only draws you closer to your end, faster.

he draws himself back when he feels a sharp little vibration on the bedside table, and the sound brings his drowsy, lidded eye movement to the mocking 4:30AM staring right back at him before his eyes are back on you. there's a pout on your lips as you rub at your face and you whimper, sleepy but content before your eyes flutter closed again when he speaks. "s-sorry, jus’ take it so well, pretty thing. stay up w' me a lil longer — don't wanna stop yet"

nagi shudders when you grab at him, squeezing at the broad muscle of his shoulders before you're hugging him closer — hooking your thighs around his hips to ease him into a slow, rocking pace.

“‘ts fine, feels so good, sei. mmmm, don't want you to stop either.” your words are like honey as they drip through him, making him whimper when he feels your lips tease the shell of his ear and pull another throb from his heavy cock as his pace turns to slow, languid strokes.

"fuck— y're g'nna make me cum. come on, can give you more.. jus' gotta be patient with me. can nap w’ you later, angel.”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#blue lock x you #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk smut #bllk x you #nagi x reader #nagi smut #nagi x you #nagi seishiro x you #nagi seishiro smut #nagi seishiro x reader

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alastor-simp · 7 months

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Watching A Horror Movie With Riddle, Leona and Azul

It's finally October everybody, and there is nothing I love more then watching horror movies during this spooky season. I will do the other dorm leaders soon. Enjoy everyone.

And also question of the day: What are the scariest horror movies you all have watched? Comment Below (For me its the Conjuring, The Ring and The Grudge)

Riddle Rosehearts🍓 + Lights Out💡

🍓It was gonna take a lot of convincing to have this cutie watch a horror movie with you, especially with how busy he was with homework and his house warden duties.

🍓"My schedule is quite filled at the moment and I don't have the time to waste it away on some trivial matters." Riddle said, as he continued on with his work. Putting on your best puppy dog eyes, you told Riddle that you just wanted to spend some time with him and maybe doing something together and getting into the spooky vibes of October, might be fun and new for him as well since you knew how stern he was with certain things and that he probably never had a chance to experience them due to his childhood.

🍓Having listened to what you said, Riddle's heart melted, feeling upset with himself for being a little mean to you. After a bit of an internal debate, Riddle, flustered, agreed to the horror movie night with you, but only when he was done with his duties. Ecstatic, you glomped Riddle in a bear hug, saying thank you repeatedly, while Riddle remained frozen like a statue, not expecting the sudden hug, but he didn't dislike it (cough cough tsundere).

🍓After a week had gone by, Riddle was finished with all of his duties and you had invited him to Ramshackle, setting up the living room with blankets and pillows, as well as preparing a bowl of kettle popcorn and warm apple cider to enjoy when watching the movie.

🍓Riddle had never watch a horror movie before so he was quick to jump at every little jumpscare that was in this movie. Not even a few minutes into the movie, Riddle had screamed, clutching one of the pillows close to his chest when the evil creature made an appearance.

🍓It was very hard to focus on the movie and not concentrate on the cute redhead, covering half of his face with the pillow, whispering to himself "please turn the lights on" whenever the movie protagonists were in the dark.

🍓Once the credits rolled, Riddle heaved a sigh of relief that the movie was over, but now he was gonna be paranoid whenever he is in a dark room by himself. Sensing Riddle's discomfort, you leaned over and hugged Riddle, telling him not to be afraid.

🍓Yelp, Riddle was definitely not going back to his dorm tonight as he had gotten very comfortable in your embrace that he didn't want to depart from it. The both of you continued to hug each other until you both fell asleep on the couch.

Leona Kingscholar🦁 + Blair Witch Project🧙🏻

🦁"Not interested" was what you read on Leona's face when you ask him for a movie night together. Leona enjoys spending his evenings, taking naps and not dealing with his annoying duties. Last thing he needed was having to deal with your screams.

🦁Leona knows horror movies are just idiotic, and half of the stuff is so made up that no one could believe in it. Refusing to give up, you challenged Leona saying that he must be a pussy-cat and is just afraid of watching a scary movie with you.

🦁Oh boy, nice job Herbivore, you just challenged the Leona Kingscholar. He leaned closer towards you, giving you his famous smirk and telling you to prepare yourself for challenging him. Honestly you didn't care, you just wanted to watch a movie with him so you were prepared for the consequences.

🦁After getting everything set up at Ramshackle, you made sure to set the mood for the movie. Leona had arrived and made a beeline for the couch, laying his head on one of the pillows, with his arms behind his head. He wasn't really interested in whatever movie you decided to play, so you went with blair witch, as it might be something different for Leona instead of the classic slasher horror movie.

🦁Couple minutes into the movie, Leona had actually managed to stay awake and focus on the movie, wanting to prove to you that he wasn't a scaredy cat, but he was starting to become interested in how the movie was playing out. The characters in the woods were almost like prey, and whatever the witch was in the movie was hunting them.

🦁Leona had taken his eyes off the movie for a second, and turned to look at you, You were covering your eyes with your hands, peeking just a bit so you wouldn't miss anything that happened in the movie, body jumping whenever you heard the scary sounds when the characters were awake at night.

🦁Heh, Leona chuckled to himself, as he was enjoying your reactions to the movie. The movie continued to play, as the characters had arrived at the witches house, hearing the sounds of their friends screaming before ending up in the basement and the camera suddenly crashing to the ground, leaving you wondering what had happened to the two main characters.

🦁Relaxing your body, you heaved a sigh when the credits started to roll. However, you felt something tap the back of your shoulder, causing you to scream and fall off the couch. Leona roared with laughter, clutching his stomach while you sat on the ground in fright wondering what the heck that was. You realized that Leona had used his tail to scare you.

🦁"YOU JERK! YOU SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME!" You yelled at Leona, as you still remained sat on the floor, while Leona was still having his laughing fit. Leona had finally stopped laughing, then he reached towards you and pulled you up from the ground, laying his back on the couch and placing you on top of him, face squished against his chest.

🦁Leona said that since he watched the movie with you, he deserved a reward and what better reward then taking a nap together on the couch. He leaned closer to your head, giving your forehead a kiss, then nuzzling it with his chin.

🦁"He's always so rough sometimes, but he's being very sweet right now. Maybe this is his way of apologizing for scaring me?" Thinking that to yourself, you relaxed against him, laying your head closer to his chest, listening to his heartbeat while breathing in his relaxing scent.

Azul Ashengrotto🐙 + Saw🪚

🐙Asking out to watch a movie with Azul is very difficult without him bringing up the whole "lets make a deal." Honestly, this man needs a reality check and not bring up the whole contract thing left and right.

🐙"Oh ho, you want to go over the contract in private?" Azul smirked, as he was leaning against his desk in the office, ready to discuss parts of the deal with you.

🐙"AZUL! I'm not here to sign a deal with you. I'm hear to ask you if you wanted to have a movie night together at my dorm" Azul, straighten his posture in shock, not expecting that at all. "M-movie night? Me and the prefect? ALONE!?" Internal panic was what filled Azul, but he wasn't going to make it obvious to you and slowly calmed down.

🐙Azul was reluctant to accept your offer, as he wasn't use to this type of stuff, but he would feel very bad if he rejected your invitation, so he said yes

🐙Having arrived at your dorm, Azul was surprised by how much you had prepared for the movie night you had planned. The couch was littered with comfortable pillows and blankets, and a bowl of trail mix instead of popcorn since you knew Azul was on a strict diet.

🐙He was curious what the movie "Saw" was about, but you didn't want to spoil too much, so you decided to tell him it was focused on solving scary puzzles/games. Azul perked with interest once you said game, as he was part of the board game club with Idia, so he was very interested in what this movie had to offer.

🐙A few seconds into the movie, Azul immediately regret showing interest in the movie. He couldn't believe the diabolical games the characters were put through by the killer "Jigsaw". Azul was feeling sick to his stomach, as scenes from the movie continued to play, and the games continued to get worse and worse.

🐙Azul's business facade was falling apart in front of you, as you saw how quickly Azul went from a businessman to a crybaby in a matter of minutes. Feeling bad, you grabbed Azul's hand with yours, interlocking your fingers, as a way to show comfort. That had relaxed Azul a little bit, and he was very thankful that you had done that.

🐙The movie continued to progress and it had arrived at the famous "foot saw" scene. Knowing how gruesome this scene was, you had grabbed Azul's face and hugged it to your chest, preventing him from watching that horrid scene. He was not expecting that hug from you, face bursting a bright shade of red as his head was still against your chest, but he continued to stay where he was, one of his eyes going back to gaze at the screen once you told him the scene was over.

🐙The plot twist at the end of the movie had Azul feeling furious and scared at the same time, he had so wanted the protagonist to survive, only for the hopes of survival to shatter at the end. Azul was going to be having nightmares because of this movie and he was going to hear the phrase "Game Over" repeating in his head.

🐙Azul was trembling in your embrace, feeling traumatized from what he had just witnessed. "Are you okay?" You had asked Azul, who was still leaning against your chest, shaking his head no. Feeling apologetic, you told Azul that he can sleep over at your dorm, and the both of you can stay like this for as long as he wanted.

🐙Leaning your back against the couch, you removed Azul's glasses and set them on the table, then placing your hand on his head, petting his hair. Melting into your embrace, Azul began to relax, eyes slowly closing as he fell asleep on top of you.

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undercoverpena · 5 months

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ix. put me to bed

frankie morales x f!reader | chapter nine of i like the way you

best friend! friends with benefits! frankie morales summary: what starts off as an offhand remark, quickly becomes a regular, scheduled 'stress relief'. the only problem is, both of you are in denial that you feel anything outside of friendship for the other.

warnings: friends with benefits. fwb! rules. idiots who are so in love it’s stupid. feelings. angst with fluff. dont hate the jo. a love confession, but not to the other. mention of alcohol (a few drinks). one use of the nickname 'bean', no use of y/n

word count: 4.1k

an: the most overwhelming thanks to @thetriumphantpanda for reading this chapter and the next, and giving me the comfort i needed to say goodbye to them.

He doesn’t know where to begin.

For the longest time, he just stands. Eyes sweeping across the effort you had made—the weight of it hitting into him. Contemplating the reason behind it, letting it mist over him, slathering itself onto his clothes, making them cling to his bones.

Drowned. He feels like he’s drowning.

It’s making everything feel tight, uncomfortable. All the while processing this thing he’s squandered. Ruined. Destroyed like he does everything else in his life.

Because you had broken a rule for him.

A declaration that you had encased in a statement, it all bold. He can only imagine from the display (and an array of wick-burnt candles) that it would have been illumed by dancing flames.

That is if he hadn’t overslept. If he had put on an alarm, done something other than close his eyes and hope.

Usually, Frankie doesn’t nap. He barely, and rarely even sleeps. Hasn’t been particularly good at getting a good amount for a while. Too many thoughts which keep him paralysed in the dark, ifs and buts and maybes all circling. The unknown faces of the loved ones that are left behind because he had something to do, achieve, complete.

Even since he’d gotten out, it hadn’t improved. In fact, it had worsened, doubling more so in the time since Colombia—only improving whenever he finds himself next to you. When your soft breaths in, and out, calm him, the scent of your shampoo takes the last bit of stress from him, handing him only a pleasant night's sleep.

He’d wanted to return the favour—give his attention, his time. It’s why he’d closed his eyes to begin with, why he’d thought grabbing an hour would be beneficial.

Now, it’s spoiled everything.

His teeth leave indents on the inside of his mouth, biting further down until it stings. The pads of his fingers tug at his curls as he unsticks his foot from the floor, deciding it was likely best he begin to tidy.

One, in the hope it’ll distract him, pass the time until you return from wherever it is you’ve gone. Two, because it’ll at least provide you with a clean home to return to—no evidence of the night he’d let you down.

It’s only when he’s cleared the table, mid-scraping the food into your bin, does he glance up. Eyes landing on your fridge, finding the Polaroid stuck to it—the one the two of you had taken at some BBQ years ago. Your lips pressed to his cheek, his eyes closed, lines in the corners as he grins something stupid. It always makes him smile when he sees it—had even begged you to let him take it when he began working away.

No. If you take it, you’ll have nothing to come visit me for.

As if that could ever be true.

He remembers when he told you about his license, the stupid drug charge. You had been the first place he thought of going. Rocking up to your door, enveloped in your porch light he stood more mess than man, shaking, trembling, so fearful that his life would go up in flames. But, you were an anchor, a thing which rooted him and didn’t let him float up into the sky. Hand on his back, guiding him in.

Whatever it is, it’ll be okay, Frank. I promise.

You had been right. Like you were about so many things.

Constantly a calming vibe, a thing he instantly feels better around—relaxing and unknotting him, it not mattering what state he presented himself to you in.

Closing his eyes, he runs his thumb over his phone—without even needing to open them, he finds your contact. Suddenly drowned in the dull ringing tone. It sounds out in the tension, vibrating against it, making it more prominent, until it rings to nothing, stuffing it back where he won’t see you and your face illuminated on the background of his phone.

Sinking into your sofa, he feels he should go. Return back to his place, pass all the buildings he’s just torn past, likely hit each red light on the way home (a thing he’s sure he deserves). He should get behind the wheel, tap his thumbs against it as he hopes you’ll ring him, maybe even force him to change lanes and come to you.

He sits instead. Both in the discomfort of his own making and the sorrow of a failed night—letting it sink into him. Pierce in, leave a mark, an invisible tattoo needled in with what he hopes isn’t your tears, sadness and anger. Yet, he suspects it’s all three.

His phone buzzes, heart flipping as he pulls it out of his jean pocket, hoping he sees your name—sees your face lit up on his screen. That happy one, where your eyes are closed and your mouth is open, it snapped a year ago, his shades hanging off the tip of your nose and a streak of jam on your cheek from a doughnut.

It isn’t your name.

Isn’t even a call.

Just one text, from Will.

Come get your girl, Fish.

He drives calmer than when he’d headed over. Only for the fact he doesn’t want to face the judgment when he arrives.

Because Will is nothing but predictable, likely timing him, knowing the exact minute of when he should arrive from either his own place or yours.

Naturally, he’s greeted by him—waiting outside, arms folded.

“Hey. Where is she?”

Frankie is barely confident he’s shut the door of his truck, only hoping it’ll lock as he presses the button, walking across the road to him—coming face-to-face with his friend.

It’s clear there’s judgment there, all heavy—embedded in confusion and disappointment. Both were like old friends sliding in, sketching across the same face he’d been beside in sand dunes and deep in jungles alongside.

“Inside.”

Something tightens, the rope threading through itself further, creating another knot he’ll struggle to undo. “She tell you?”

Will snorts. “No. But she didn’t not tell me either.”

“You out here to defend her or something?”

Narrowing his eyes, Will just stares—letting it simmer for a moment, letting it bubble in tension before he runs his thumb across his bottom lip.

“No,” he eventually says. “If anything, I’m not sure who she’s more pissed at. Apparently, I betrayed her.”

Frankie bites back a smile, dipping his head, hiding it—hopefully.

“Tell me I upset her for the right reason,” Will continues. “Tell me I didn’t make her look at me all crushed for no reason, Fish.”

Scratching the back of his curls, he swallows.

“C’mon man, gimme something here. I’ve had to watch the two of you do this fuckin’ dance for years. Ever since you left Ben’s. I thought, maybe this is it, maybe the two of them will open their eyes.”

Rubbing his arm, he drags his tongue across his bottom lip. Staring just passed him, at the windows of the bar—wondering if you’re there, if you’re further tucked inside, simmering, all hating and fury—

“Fish.”

“What?”

Giving him a pointed look, Will throws his arms out to the side. Wearing a look he’s seen before. One usually there when he’s telling someone off—berating them.

“What do you want me to tell you?” he asks.

Because, he isn’t sure. Not even wholeheartedly confident he knows what to say.

It’s why it was supposed to come out solid, all sharp edges and deep. Instead, it comes out shaky, weak—wrapped in nerves and encased in concerns. Defeat flowing through him, smothering everything else—made worse by the tilting head of his friend.

“You want me to tell you that I’m in love with her? Well, I am. I have been for… fuck—longer than I’ve known. You want me to tell you that I’ve been happier than I have been the last few months getting to enjoy seeing what it would be like to be with her, because I can’t.”

Swallowing, Frankie runs his hand across his face.

“You want me to tell you that I can’t stop thinking about her, that it feels like my heart has been wrenched out and gutted from my fucking chest because I let her down tonight—that she deserves better—“

“Fish…”

“—she does. Someone good, someone like you who makes her laugh, is there at the drop of a phone call, and can provide—“

The ball doesn’t shrink, it just pulses. Filling the space in his throat, constricting, widening in the limited avenue it has until he almost chokes on it.

“—and I can’t. I… I don’t know how to do any of it. Even if being with her feels like everything—like the fucking rain doesn’t make me think of Colombia, doesn’t make me remember the weight of carrying his body. Because—“

It catches and hits the back of his teeth. Attempting to swallow, shove it back. A sting to his eyes as he tries to blink it away.

But it isn’t so easily hidden, removed—or buried. It’s there now, existing, risen to the surface, bobbing up and down on emotions which are too heavy to sink to the bottom of his soul.

“—Because—“

“Y’need to tell her,” Will says, finally cutting through. Hand on his shoulder, grappling him, digging his fingers in. “Believe me.”

Blinking, he breathes. Takes more air in. Trying to settle his nerves, the adrenaline from letting it all out. “What if I lose her?”

“Y’won’t. Do you know why? Because while you’re getting worked up about what you think she deserves, she’s sat wishing she was good enough for you. So, talk to her. Trust me.”

Nodding, he casts his eyes down, hearing the door of the bar open—the loudness escaping out into the otherwise quiet street—as he locks eyes with you. You, who even with anger simmering, take his fucking breath away.

“I don’t like her like that, Fish,” Will whispers. “Never have. But even if I did, it wouldn’t have mattered. She’s always been yours.”

You’re quiet when he opens the door, even more so when you slide in beside him. A part of you knows he'll hate it, the silent treatment.

But, it's either that, or words, all matted together, coming out like a magician's infinite silk handkerchief.

You're sure that's what is simmering in your chest, all eroding, bubbling, all coiled and twisted. At the heart of it is disappointment, followed up by so much more. It prickles in and around the truck, adding in thick layers to the tension—it all being plucked like the chords of a song.

Your stomach swirls, in the opposite way to your head. The few drinks you had mixed with the emotional whiplash you were still recovering from.

Because when you’d seen him, all you had wanted to do was bury your head into his chest. Somehow hold him, rid yourself of the doubts, the worries. The thoughts which had thundered inside of you, were only diluted by the anger you’d been feeling that maybe, just maybe, he’d decided against doing this thing with you.

It isn’t until the engine rumbles, does your stomach make a noise, a grumble. The hunger rising, not as easily ignored as it had been before—when you’d been turning things over. Purposefully choosing to sit in the complex emotions Will tried to urge you to explain.

But how could you?

Especially when you were unsure at what point they began and ended? A love that had woven in and around all of you, threaded itself between bones and became part of muscles.

“How much did you drink?”

Twisting your fingers around the strap of your bag, you swallow. “Two, maybe three.”

You catch his brow arching, lips tightening into a thin line. His profile is all lit up by the lights above dashing past as he heads down the quiet road.

“Someone spilt a drink on me. That's... that's why you can smell it.”

“You okay—I got a hoodie in the back?”

Snorting, you lick your lips. “No. I’m fine. Was just a shot—smells worse than it is.”

Pulling up to a light, you hear him take a deep breath. A sound you shouldn’t be happy to hear, but you are. It settling things, easing the grip around your heart—the one which had tightened when you’d wondered if something had happened, if he had been hurt—

“You really do stink.”

You don’t laugh, just bite it back, letting the lights go green as he drives and drives. Your head wants nothing more than to turn, stare at him—ask him what happened, shout and even cry.

You do none of it.

Just waiting until he pulls up, in that spot his vehicle always finds itself in. The engine cuts, the air around the two of you turning silent.

It’s just you, and him, your dark and quiet street, and the animals who wish for some privacy as they get up to no good.

“I…” he begins, clearing his throat. “I need you to know I didn’t mean to stand you up—I overslept.”

“I know,” you mumble, shaking your phone. “Saw your text.”

Nodding, he chews his cheek, sighing. “I know people let you down, but please... I wouldn’t, I didn’t mean to do that to you. I just—I needed a nap, just… fuck I just wanted to be more alert.”

Biting your bottom lip, you almost pierce it. It stings, throbs, worsening in the seconds that pass as you nod.

Undoing your seatbelt, shifting yourself to the side. Pulse thumping in your ear, beating, getting louder and louder, and then you look at him.

The way his eyes have widened, soft, all worried. His face pinched, his lips in a thin line, but it’s the dark circles under his eyes, the darkened tinge you know wasn’t there the week prior.

Because you’ve mapped him. Know every inch of him now. Somehow able to carve him from clay with how your hands know him, able to spot the way his hand feels in yours from a lineup.

“I just didn’t want to have waited all week to see you, and fall asleep once I was around you.”

Snorting. “I must be good company.”

He whispers your name, more urgently, all quick. “You’re… I feel relaxed around you, that’s all.”

Sighing, the car fills with the sound, as he lets his head roll back onto the headrest. And you can feel him staring at you, getting the feeling he’s unable to take his eyes off of you. As if he’s almost unable to, commanded to.

You hate that you feel the same. That you always feel the same. Your eyes scanning over each angle of his face, an act you’ve done thousands of times, but this time, feels, different.

“Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t sleeping?”

“It’s not that I’m not sleeping. More that I’m just not sleeping as well.”

You almost say same. Spill it. Share it with him.

You’re just fearful of what will come with it. Confessions are so easy when your mind is full of the things you can’t say, mixing with the tiredness that’s come on from worrying, from being nervous, from crying—from keeping a tight lip when Will tried to get you to open up.

At this point, it would be easier to tell him that you dream of waking beside him. Your linens, but in his bedroom—all dark walls that make the day not seem like it's arrived, just so you could steal more time with him.

“How long?”

Smirking, it softens into a smile as the seconds collect. “Since I began spending one night a week curled up against you.”

Eyes dropping, your fingers begin playing with the zip on your bag. Pulse thundering in your head, that little screech starting in your eardrum as you try to keep yourself calm, try not to let yourself get ahead of yourself.

“It’s why…” pinching the bridge of his nose, you let your gaze wander back to him. “I just wanted to see you on more sleep than I’d had since I was up there.”

“Don’t be cute.”

“You want me to turn it off?”

Looking down, you nod. A playful smile begins to grace your lips, feeling him still watching you. You sit in it—all the things unspoken. The fact that hours ago, all you had wanted to do was pour your heart out, tell him, clutch his cheeks—love me, Frankie, please love me.

Now, you fiddle with any part of your bag you can. Secretly wanting him to kiss you, render you thoughtless—make the night fade, blend into a sea of other ones. Because you’re not sure how to explain to him how often you think of him, how his name comes so easily to rest on your lips when you first wake in the morning when you’re having a bad day, when your hand is sliding under the band of your underwear seeking a little something to unwind.

It’s him. Always him.

Even if you know that a part of you also knows he isn’t yours. He doesn’t owe you anything, it all barely an agreement, barely anything in place which would explain the way you feeling—how crestfallen, shattered and smashed into a thousand pieces.

“Bean…” he whispers.

Forcing your eyes to drag up. “You’ve not called me that in ages.”

Smiling half-heartedly, he snorts.

An old nickname, a thing he called you for no reason, but it stuck. Became a fixture. A thing now replaced with other pet names, other terms of affection. You're not sure which one makes your heart double in size more.

Not now. Not when all you do is feel so much for him.

“I’m so sorry.”

“I know,” you reply. And you do.

Not meeting his eyes, not able to, a part of you worrying what will happen if you do—will you ever be able to look away? Will he see through the facade you’d throw up for him, see all the ways he’s managed to bring old scars to the surface, make you feel at fault, foolish—

Your insides churn.

“Okay.”

Lifting your chin, you slide your hand over to take his, gripping it, not letting go. Because there’s not a thing you wanted more than him, not ever. Not when you’d been sat waiting, with time to tick on, and not now sat, feeling his guilt wash from him in thick, horrid waves.

“I thought you’d had enough of me.”

It’s all you can say, swallowing the rest. That you’d worried you were broken, unsave-able—forever destined to be let down and hurt. A pattern of it stitched into you before him, a sea of bad dates and bad relationships, each leaving a different insecurity nestled within you.

“Never,” he breathes.

You blink, feeling the corners blur as the tears approach—your elbow resting on the door of his truck, teeth nipping at your thumb, biting down harder, more intently, just to stifle them. Stop them from building more, fearful of them falling.

Because it heals a shard inside of you—apply glue to it, knowing it’ll be set in a few hours.

“You coming in?”

“Sure, querida.”

Another part of you calms. It sliding back into its original place inside of you—able to take a breath, a real one. Hearing his footsteps fall behind you, your fingers finding your keys, as your door unlocks with far too much ease with how you’d slammed it earlier tonight.

It’s only when you throw your bag on the hook, passing the jacket he’d left behind, that your mind remembers the evidence at your dining table. The thing you wouldn’t be able to explain, even if you tried. The words are all jumbled now, blasted to the inside of your brain by earlier sobs, anger and now beer.

“I’ve already seen it.”

His voice sounds louder in the quiet of your home and the thudding of your head. Your brain whirring, trying to catch up, to think on your feet—be quick, be witty, do something, say anything.

“Tomorrow?” he adds, cutting you off before words even begin to be thought.

A lump forms in your throat, beginning there, all unable to be swallowed as he runs his hand up and down your arm before he heads into your kitchen. You follow, slowly, more cautious in your steps as you hear the tap, hear him grab a glass—all movements that feel normal, but now feel the very opposite of that.

“Drink this.”

“I’m not that drunk.”

“Humour me,” he says, nudging the glass into your hand.

It allows you a moment to spot the table—how spotless it is, the only evidence of the night being the candles, the cutlery he hadn’t put away, the rest is gone, vanished.

“Came to find you,” he says, all able to read you—a thing he does with far too much ease.

And it makes you worry, and panic. Because if he can so easily discern this, does he already know? Had it been an element of why he had needed the nap—more energy to end this, the thing the two of you have that has been more than just sex. It has become something so much more.

You had known it. Had been feeling it.

It was evidenced by the fact you had begun to count more than days till you could see him.

“Remember when you cleaned sick of my floor.”

Snorting, he leans against your counter, all legs outstretched, arms folding—even the outline of him handsome, barely needing the light on to see how good he looks. Because that’s just him.

“Vividly,” he says, smirking. “Not repeating that tonight, are you?”

“No. Didn’t drink much.”

“You keep saying that but your eyes are glazed.”

You bite your lip. “I didn’t eat.”

He doesn’t speak but rather makes a noise. Something in the back of his throat, something he buries in a cough, smothering it from existence with a wipe of his face, as you drain the last bit of your glass.

“Good gi…”

Biting your bottom lip, you pause as you offer it to him, staring at him.

It’s likely wrong, not the thing you should do, but you do it anyway. The gap closing, all easy to do (barely more than three steps) as you clutch his cheeks, crashing your lips to his, hoping it says enough—a gesture which speaks a thousand of the words which keep circling, swimming.

Can you hear me love you, Morales?

His lips moving with yours, the tip of his tongue sliding across your bottom lip—warm, eager, likely saying just as many things, but they’re not easy to read, to tell.

Pulling back, you press your forehead against him, fingers working around his neck, twirling a curl or two. Just being. Taking in the way you can feel his heart hammer against yours, the two of them trying to find a rhythm, desperate to match, to fit.

“Should sleep,” he whispers against you, a soft kiss against your skin. “We can… we can talk tomorrow.”

“Stay—“

Nodding, he cups your face with his hands. “I will, baby. I promise. Out here, on the sofa. You… we should talk tomorrow. You’re tired, I’m tired.”

Tears threaten to spill, hanging, all delicate from your lashes as you slowly lift your head, trying to nod. Your throat tightening, clenching.

“Bean, don’t cry. It’s gonna be alright, we’ll sleep and then tomorrow we’ll talk and it’ll be fine.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you try to smile. “Okay.”

Kissing your forehead, he lingers, your fingers hovering over his waist, desperate to pull him close.

“You’re not leaving me are you?”

Something shifts in his eyes. A moment where they widen and then narrow ever so slightly—like they’re being pinched by his thoughts, things he likes wants to say, spill, let you know and understand.

“No. Never,” he whispers, fingers clutching your chin, thumb drawing a line up and down it. “I’ll tell you how I’m never going to tomorrow. When you’re sober.”

Okay, you think. Biting your lip, casting your eyes down when you hear him say your name.

“If I…” Frankie scratches the back of his head. “You’ve had a drink… I don’t wanna push things, but if you—”

“I want to fall asleep with you,” you cut in.

Okay, you hear.

And it’s different than the one you thought, different than the nervousness in his voice a second ago. It’s different—all of it. You just hope different doesn’t mean wrong.

FINAL CHAPTER ->

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