[lavendertales]

Alice, 30, she/they, bi. empty blogs, as well as those without an age/age range in bio and minors DNI, YOU WILL BE IMMEDIATELY BLOCKED.

fic recs account | masterlist | AO3 | ko-fi | blog rules

NOTE: while I no longer actively write for the Pedro Pascal's characters, my works for the fandom are up for reading & sharing at any time, and I may still pop on here from time to time 🩷I may also write for other characters ocassionally, so not all hope is lost lol.

[lavendertales]

just wanted to drop by and say a HUGE THANK YOU to all the support & love everyone has poured into my Frankenstein fics, it's been incredible to get back into writing again and to feel like it's worth something 🥹❤️

also a warm welcome to everyone new to my page!! (and if you like, check out my pinned for more information) I cannot promise consistent stories, as I am dipping my toes back in, so to speak, and I don't know if I'd return full time, but I hope you enjoy my existing work nonetheless and thank you for being here ❤️

[lavendertales]

taste—the Creature x f!reader**

summary: the Creature grows curious and keen as to how you taste.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, established relationship. my hc is that he has pretty much endless stamina, so... yeah.

gif: @horroredits

The best thing about him is that his curiosity never falters.

This thing between you and him came in increments: slowly, steady, yet cautious. Where you hesitated to ask, he did; where he hesitated to ask, you showed him. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment this yearning curiosity arose from you both. You know with certainty it had been a long time. The least you could do is make sure you take things slowly, step by step; the last thing you wished for is to drive him away.

His physical curiosity also came in increments: first a tentative kiss, then a touch on your waist, a caress of your thigh, then gradually building to something greater, something more and bigger.

So when his mouth traveled a bit more south between your legs and you gasped, you haltered.

“Is this alright?”

Every touch of his is tentative, cautious and gentle. How could you say anything to the contrary?

“Very much so,” you manage to whisper.

“I do not know what to do. Only that I want to taste you.”

“You can.”

Permission slips quietly between the two of you. You only know of this moment, when he kneels before you, parting your legs. His hitched breaths tickle your core just right, just enough to tantalize you before a mere action had taken place. Desire had grown steadily in between you two, passing quietly, needing not to be spoken of, but burning so ardently, so feverishly with time, it took all of your mighty restraint to not act upon your urges before you could be certain this is what he wanted as well.

There is no doubt about it now, he yearns to taste you almost as much as you yearned to taste him, if not more.

Over the months, he’d grown better at handling your body’s tells and requirements; where you once had to teach him verbatim, now he remembers, he intuits what you want before a single word leaves your mouth. Now, he knows the sweet nectar resides in between your legs, and as he parts them, he unconsciously licks his lips in anticipation of the deliciousness soon to touch his lips and tongue. The tip of his nose brushes slightly against your clit, and you gasp—out loud.

His eyes immediately rise to meet with your flushed face. You can see the hunger within them, the amber flicker of the lights passing by his right eye and creating the illusion of a hungry animal chasing its meal.

Though there is no doubt to be had about it, you would happily surrender each and every time.

“Please,” is the sole word that escapes your lips.

You don’t know how to else to plead for his attention—or most importantly, his mouth. Luckily, with him there is no need to. He is diligent and eager, so he dives right back in, his nose brushing up against your clit once more, causing you to dig your fingers right into his scalp, feeling all the ridges there.

Hunger takes control over you, insatiable and untamable—almost. He kisses your inner thighs, savoring each press of his lips against your warm flesh, till eventually reaches the small Eden in between your legs.

Once he does and licks his first stripe against your wetness, you throw your head back, nails digging into his skin. He growls and starts to kiss and lick and do whatever he can, starved as he is, to get more sounds out of you. Albeit this being his first time doing this—and your first time feeling this—he simply rewinds the instructions you once gave him, thinking this should be no different than when he is buried deep inside you and moving along with you as one being, one entity, failing to realize where one begins and the other ends.

But it is different; it’s better. In so many ways, it’s so much better to bury his face against your folds and kiss dutifully, his ears in true ecstasy listening to your moans and gasps, all silent pleas for more, more, more. That is all you know, all you can think of and all that you can feel: burning, itching, aching, him, all over you, inside of you.

Right where he’s supposed to be.

“Yes—please, yes—oh my G-God—“

He doesn’t know to whom you’re calling out for, but he fleetingly decides he does not care. All he cares about is chasing this odd sensation building within him, the same one that has you in its iron spell. His insides scorch, and under any other circumstance he might’ve been alarmed—but he’s long learned to recognize the blaze of want, and it’s all thanks to you and your patience to teach him all the ways in which his body, albeit not truly his own, works to his aid.

He licks hungry stripes, without finesse, but with a good enough aim. There is something roaring inside of him, something primal and animalistic like he’d never known. It is fueled by your every sound, every whisper, every tug of his hair or every cut of your nails in his skin, the way your body folds under his mouth, molded simply by desire.

“I think I’m close—“

The warning you tried to disclose didn’t even need to be heeded; he could already tell by the way you are squirming and nearly trapping his head between your thighs, but any care or consideration you might have is out the window. With a final suck, you seize all around him, hips bucking and struggling to remain in place.

“Need all of it,” he murmurs in a guttural tone.

As you ride out your climax, he’s staring at you, absorbing every movement, every crease of your face and every single thing he can. There is something truly ethereal about you overall, but especially as you are in the throes of passion. There are days when he cannot believe that he is as lucky as to know you inside and out and to share his existence with you.

After a little while, you try to climb down from your high, eyes locked on his figure, surprised to see the hunger in his eyes hadn’t subsided. You inquire with a single glare, and he’s already lapping at your folds again, collecting every ounce of arousal on his tongue, savoring it like the finest dessert known to mankind.

“I—“you smile, trying to be as coherent as possible. “I do not think it’s possible to give you anything more right now, darling.”

You feel him smile against your clit, now his fingers having found their way there and rubbing gently. You gasp aloud, proving your own words wrong.

“I cannot help it,” he growls in your slit, slurping loudly. “You taste much better than I dared imagine.”

“Thank you, but—“

You interrupt yourself with a big moan, much to his delight. One of your hands works on its own accord and guides one of his fingers straight inside you and you jolt in surprise. Your moans fill the room, shattered and desperate as you are. He flicks his tongue over and over again, chasing that same high that only you could provide him.

Soon he discovers that he can fuck you like this too: with just his fingers, and then a combination of fingers and tongue, and then, at long last, when he fills you up again with his cock and tells you how much you mean to him.

You lose count how many times you finish tonight. You lost track of reality and the number after four. All you know is his embrace and his touch, gentle yet ever so curious and hungry.

[feministfanboi]

🤤🤤🤤

This is so *chef's kiss* agh magnificent I just knowww he has a new oral fixation and just wants to have you for every meal

[lavendertales]

TRUST the oral fixation is a new awakening for him and he WILL be doing this every goddamn chance he gets

[lavendertales]

taste—the Creature x f!reader**

summary: the Creature grows curious and keen as to how you taste.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, established relationship. my hc is that he has pretty much endless stamina, so... yeah.

gif: @horroredits

The best thing about him is that his curiosity never falters.

This thing between you and him came in increments: slowly, steady, yet cautious. Where you hesitated to ask, he did; where he hesitated to ask, you showed him. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment this yearning curiosity arose from you both. You know with certainty it had been a long time. The least you could do is make sure you take things slowly, step by step; the last thing you wished for is to drive him away.

His physical curiosity also came in increments: first a tentative kiss, then a touch on your waist, a caress of your thigh, then gradually building to something greater, something more and bigger.

So when his mouth traveled a bit more south between your legs and you gasped, you haltered.

“Is this alright?”

Every touch of his is tentative, cautious and gentle. How could you say anything to the contrary?

“Very much so,” you manage to whisper.

“I do not know what to do. Only that I want to taste you.”

“You can.”

Permission slips quietly between the two of you. You only know of this moment, when he kneels before you, parting your legs. His hitched breaths tickle your core just right, just enough to tantalize you before a mere action had taken place. Desire had grown steadily in between you two, passing quietly, needing not to be spoken of, but burning so ardently, so feverishly with time, it took all of your mighty restraint to not act upon your urges before you could be certain this is what he wanted as well.

There is no doubt about it now, he yearns to taste you almost as much as you yearned to taste him, if not more.

Over the months, he’d grown better at handling your body’s tells and requirements; where you once had to teach him verbatim, now he remembers, he intuits what you want before a single word leaves your mouth. Now, he knows the sweet nectar resides in between your legs, and as he parts them, he unconsciously licks his lips in anticipation of the deliciousness soon to touch his lips and tongue. The tip of his nose brushes slightly against your clit, and you gasp—out loud.

His eyes immediately rise to meet with your flushed face. You can see the hunger within them, the amber flicker of the lights passing by his right eye and creating the illusion of a hungry animal chasing its meal.

Though there is no doubt to be had about it, you would happily surrender each and every time.

“Please,” is the sole word that escapes your lips.

You don’t know how to else to plead for his attention—or most importantly, his mouth. Luckily, with him there is no need to. He is diligent and eager, so he dives right back in, his nose brushing up against your clit once more, causing you to dig your fingers right into his scalp, feeling all the ridges there.

Hunger takes control over you, insatiable and untamable—almost. He kisses your inner thighs, savoring each press of his lips against your warm flesh, till eventually reaches the small Eden in between your legs.

Once he does and licks his first stripe against your wetness, you throw your head back, nails digging into his skin. He growls and starts to kiss and lick and do whatever he can, starved as he is, to get more sounds out of you. Albeit this being his first time doing this—and your first time feeling this—he simply rewinds the instructions you once gave him, thinking this should be no different than when he is buried deep inside you and moving along with you as one being, one entity, failing to realize where one begins and the other ends.

But it is different; it’s better. In so many ways, it’s so much better to bury his face against your folds and kiss dutifully, his ears in true ecstasy listening to your moans and gasps, all silent pleas for more, more, more. That is all you know, all you can think of and all that you can feel: burning, itching, aching, him, all over you, inside of you.

Right where he’s supposed to be.

“Yes—please, yes—oh my G-God—“

He doesn’t know to whom you’re calling out for, but he fleetingly decides he does not care. All he cares about is chasing this odd sensation building within him, the same one that has you in its iron spell. His insides scorch, and under any other circumstance he might’ve been alarmed—but he’s long learned to recognize the blaze of want, and it’s all thanks to you and your patience to teach him all the ways in which his body, albeit not truly his own, works to his aid.

He licks hungry stripes, without finesse, but with a good enough aim. There is something roaring inside of him, something primal and animalistic like he’d never known. It is fueled by your every sound, every whisper, every tug of his hair or every cut of your nails in his skin, the way your body folds under his mouth, molded simply by desire.

“I think I’m close—“

The warning you tried to disclose didn’t even need to be heeded; he could already tell by the way you are squirming and nearly trapping his head between your thighs, but any care or consideration you might have is out the window. With a final suck, you seize all around him, hips bucking and struggling to remain in place.

“Need all of it,” he murmurs in a guttural tone.

As you ride out your climax, he’s staring at you, absorbing every movement, every crease of your face and every single thing he can. There is something truly ethereal about you overall, but especially as you are in the throes of passion. There are days when he cannot believe that he is as lucky as to know you inside and out and to share his existence with you.

After a little while, you try to climb down from your high, eyes locked on his figure, surprised to see the hunger in his eyes hadn’t subsided. You inquire with a single glare, and he’s already lapping at your folds again, collecting every ounce of arousal on his tongue, savoring it like the finest dessert known to mankind.

“I—“you smile, trying to be as coherent as possible. “I do not think it’s possible to give you anything more right now, darling.”

You feel him smile against your clit, now his fingers having found their way there and rubbing gently. You gasp aloud, proving your own words wrong.

“I cannot help it,” he growls in your slit, slurping loudly. “You taste much better than I dared imagine.”

“Thank you, but—“

You interrupt yourself with a big moan, much to his delight. One of your hands works on its own accord and guides one of his fingers straight inside you and you jolt in surprise. Your moans fill the room, shattered and desperate as you are. He flicks his tongue over and over again, chasing that same high that only you could provide him.

Soon he discovers that he can fuck you like this too: with just his fingers, and then a combination of fingers and tongue, and then, at long last, when he fills you up again with his cock and tells you how much you mean to him.

You lose count how many times you finish tonight. You lost track of reality and the number after four. All you know is his embrace and his touch, gentle yet ever so curious and hungry.

[jasminedragoon]

YOUR HONOR I HAD NO CHOICE IT WAS SO GOOD!! I REALLY LIKED THIS ONE! The way yoy wrote the gentleness and then ravenousness of it all was beautiful.

[lavendertales]

AAAHH thank you so so much darling!! I was so nervous to post this one but I love the Creature and I love this and you and all of us and ughhh 😭❤️

[lavendertales]

taste—the Creature x f!reader**

summary: the Creature grows curious and keen as to how you taste.

word count: 1.3k

warnings: cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, established relationship. my hc is that he has pretty much endless stamina, so... yeah.

gif: @horroredits

The best thing about him is that his curiosity never falters.

This thing between you and him came in increments: slowly, steady, yet cautious. Where you hesitated to ask, he did; where he hesitated to ask, you showed him. You couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment this yearning curiosity arose from you both. You know with certainty it had been a long time. The least you could do is make sure you take things slowly, step by step; the last thing you wished for is to drive him away.

His physical curiosity also came in increments: first a tentative kiss, then a touch on your waist, a caress of your thigh, then gradually building to something greater, something more and bigger.

So when his mouth traveled a bit more south between your legs and you gasped, you haltered.

“Is this alright?”

Every touch of his is tentative, cautious and gentle. How could you say anything to the contrary?

“Very much so,” you manage to whisper.

“I do not know what to do. Only that I want to taste you.”

“You can.”

Permission slips quietly between the two of you. You only know of this moment, when he kneels before you, parting your legs. His hitched breaths tickle your core just right, just enough to tantalize you before a mere action had taken place. Desire had grown steadily in between you two, passing quietly, needing not to be spoken of, but burning so ardently, so feverishly with time, it took all of your mighty restraint to not act upon your urges before you could be certain this is what he wanted as well.

There is no doubt about it now, he yearns to taste you almost as much as you yearned to taste him, if not more.

Over the months, he’d grown better at handling your body’s tells and requirements; where you once had to teach him verbatim, now he remembers, he intuits what you want before a single word leaves your mouth. Now, he knows the sweet nectar resides in between your legs, and as he parts them, he unconsciously licks his lips in anticipation of the deliciousness soon to touch his lips and tongue. The tip of his nose brushes slightly against your clit, and you gasp—out loud.

His eyes immediately rise to meet with your flushed face. You can see the hunger within them, the amber flicker of the lights passing by his right eye and creating the illusion of a hungry animal chasing its meal.

Though there is no doubt to be had about it, you would happily surrender each and every time.

“Please,” is the sole word that escapes your lips.

You don’t know how to else to plead for his attention—or most importantly, his mouth. Luckily, with him there is no need to. He is diligent and eager, so he dives right back in, his nose brushing up against your clit once more, causing you to dig your fingers right into his scalp, feeling all the ridges there.

Hunger takes control over you, insatiable and untamable—almost. He kisses your inner thighs, savoring each press of his lips against your warm flesh, till eventually reaches the small Eden in between your legs.

Once he does and licks his first stripe against your wetness, you throw your head back, nails digging into his skin. He growls and starts to kiss and lick and do whatever he can, starved as he is, to get more sounds out of you. Albeit this being his first time doing this—and your first time feeling this—he simply rewinds the instructions you once gave him, thinking this should be no different than when he is buried deep inside you and moving along with you as one being, one entity, failing to realize where one begins and the other ends.

But it is different; it’s better. In so many ways, it’s so much better to bury his face against your folds and kiss dutifully, his ears in true ecstasy listening to your moans and gasps, all silent pleas for more, more, more. That is all you know, all you can think of and all that you can feel: burning, itching, aching, him, all over you, inside of you.

Right where he’s supposed to be.

“Yes—please, yes—oh my G-God—“

He doesn’t know to whom you’re calling out for, but he fleetingly decides he does not care. All he cares about is chasing this odd sensation building within him, the same one that has you in its iron spell. His insides scorch, and under any other circumstance he might’ve been alarmed—but he’s long learned to recognize the blaze of want, and it’s all thanks to you and your patience to teach him all the ways in which his body, albeit not truly his own, works to his aid.

He licks hungry stripes, without finesse, but with a good enough aim. There is something roaring inside of him, something primal and animalistic like he’d never known. It is fueled by your every sound, every whisper, every tug of his hair or every cut of your nails in his skin, the way your body folds under his mouth, molded simply by desire.

“I think I’m close—“

The warning you tried to disclose didn’t even need to be heeded; he could already tell by the way you are squirming and nearly trapping his head between your thighs, but any care or consideration you might have is out the window. With a final suck, you seize all around him, hips bucking and struggling to remain in place.

“Need all of it,” he murmurs in a guttural tone.

As you ride out your climax, he’s staring at you, absorbing every movement, every crease of your face and every single thing he can. There is something truly ethereal about you overall, but especially as you are in the throes of passion. There are days when he cannot believe that he is as lucky as to know you inside and out and to share his existence with you.

After a little while, you try to climb down from your high, eyes locked on his figure, surprised to see the hunger in his eyes hadn’t subsided. You inquire with a single glare, and he’s already lapping at your folds again, collecting every ounce of arousal on his tongue, savoring it like the finest dessert known to mankind.

“I—“you smile, trying to be as coherent as possible. “I do not think it’s possible to give you anything more right now, darling.”

You feel him smile against your clit, now his fingers having found their way there and rubbing gently. You gasp aloud, proving your own words wrong.

“I cannot help it,” he growls in your slit, slurping loudly. “You taste much better than I dared imagine.”

“Thank you, but—“

You interrupt yourself with a big moan, much to his delight. One of your hands works on its own accord and guides one of his fingers straight inside you and you jolt in surprise. Your moans fill the room, shattered and desperate as you are. He flicks his tongue over and over again, chasing that same high that only you could provide him.

Soon he discovers that he can fuck you like this too: with just his fingers, and then a combination of fingers and tongue, and then, at long last, when he fills you up again with his cock and tells you how much you mean to him.

You lose count how many times you finish tonight. You lost track of reality and the number after four. All you know is his embrace and his touch, gentle yet ever so curious and hungry.

[lavendertales]

there will, in fact, be a new creature fic in the following days and he will, in fact, be eating you out, so buckle up 🤭

[lavendertales]

more than words—the Creature x gn!reader

summary: weeks after first meeting the Creature, you're both quite taken with each other; once you and him bond over your mutual appreciation for books, it becomes your favorite past time—and it comes with a surprising reveal.

word count: 1.8k

A/N: established (slow burn) relationship, just something achingly sweet & domestic with our beloved creature (love that we all collectively agree his name is Adam) <3

gif: @rosie-tyler

Fear had never been something you felt coursing through your veins when it came to him.

Curiosity, on the other hand, had felt something definitive for the both of you. Human and… someone more, stronger in a lot of ways, yet that much more fragile in others, both curious about each other.

When you first gazed upon him—Adam, as you now refer to him, much to his delight—curiosity was the first thing you recall feeling. He had qualms regarding his appearance, as you could clearly tell, and he was hiding even from you. He moved from shadow to shadow, as quietly as possible, always looking over his shoulder.

Only when his eyes landed upon your figure did he stop and reconsidered his choice, albeit for a single moment.

When you approached him, he backed away from you; you inched closer, he ensured there was more space between the two of you. When you stepped into the shadows, in his comfort space, could he finally exhale, audibly so, and freeze, long enough for you to study him.

“What happened to you?” you asked.

“I am made by the hands of a cruel man.”

You held your breath as you came even closer to examine him to the best of your abilities. It was tough to do so in the darkness, but you dared not ask him to step outside of what little comfort you presumed he had. There were scars all over his face and hands, of that you were certain. You suspected the rest of his body carried the same marks.

“Are you in any pain?”

He fell silent, unsure of how to answer you. You could tell he was struggling from his small grunts, so you took his hand into yours, an act of kindness that to you felt so natural, yet to him felt startling and downright shocking.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone, in the woods,” you continued. “Come with me.”

“Where to?”

“Warmth.”

He seemed confounded by your kindness, offering him a place to sleep in your house, as well as food and warmth. He studied everything with a fascination that almost exceeded humanity, but as he finally took off the big cloak hiding him from your sight, you saw more of him and you understood, with a certain horror, that he had indeed been created by the hands of a madman.

And yet you’ve known no gentler soul than that of Adam’s. No man had ever been kinder or more timid than him. It took you by surprise each time; he never forgot to say please and thank you, always helped you with chores—as a way to express his gratitude for allowing him to stay with you, you presumed—and always built a fire in the evening for the two of you. The nights were growing colder and colder, and the woods were not safe, particularly not in the dark.

“You do not have to do all the hard work around here,” you said to him one evening, a fortnight after your first meeting. “I can manage.”

“I would like to provide you with help. To—thank you for allowing me to stay.”

You smiled at him. “It is my pleasure. I hope you are comfortable.”

“You provide great comfort. And warmth.”

“I have to ask… what is your name? Do you have a name?”

He faltered, and instantly you knew the answer to your question—and subsequently regretted it.

“My creator’s name was Victor Frankenstein.”

“He never gave you a name?”

“No.”

“Hmm. Very well. Have you… heard any name you might like?”

“I… read a tale of the first man on earth, Adam. And his time in the Garden of Eden with Eve.”

“How about Adam then? Would you like that?”

He smiled; by gods, he smiled and looked wildly beautiful as he did so.

“Adam. Yes,” he concluded as he sat next to you by the fire.

That had become somewhat of a routine for the two of you, to huddle up by the fire on cold winter nights and on occasion read. Adam remained so curious about everything, and his eyes sparkled when he saw you with books. He always asked what you were reading and if you were finished with the book, he’d start right away; if you were only beginning to read it, he’d ask you to read out loud. Sometimes you’d both read the same book twice or even thrice, as they were hard to come by.

But Adam didn’t mind, and you certainly didn’t.

Months passed by in this fashion, with the two of you finding a natural rhythm to the daily life you were building together. It all came naturally, as if there was no other prospect for either one of you. Adam seemed more than content to take care of the heavy lifting around and inside the house, as well as offering you protection from external threats. You assured him that there were less of those than one might think, especially around those parts of the countryside, but he continued as such. You learned it was his way of showing affection—that, and bringing you various trinkets from his trips outside, which included a variety of leaves, a bracelet, a couple of blankets and flowers.

He always brought you flowers.

And you always kept them and the leaves in carefully made ornaments.

Often it all felt too good to be true; you were almost afraid to hold such tender moments close to your chest and to share them with Adam. He’d told you his tale, how he came into this world and how he came to life, what his creator, the man by the name of Victor Frankenstein, had done and his treatment of Adam, all of the loss and pain he’d endured in such a short time span. Your heart broke and ached for him all the same.

You ached seeing him remain full of curiosity, tenderness and love, even joy more often than not.

He was human by any definition you could think of.

You did whatever you could to soothe some of his pain as well; when he awoke during the night, screaming and crying in fear, you sat next to him till the morning, gently stroking his hair and holding him close, whispering small encouragements in his ear.

“Do you not fear me?” he’d asked once during the night. Somehow by that point, he was the one holding you, slightly obdurate as it might have been. “Are you not repulsed by my nature?”

“Should I be?”

That had obviously never crossed his mind, for it rendered him speechless.

“I do not know. I—I do not think so.”

“I do not think so either.”

“I have done… terrible things. Unspeakable things to men who were merely standing by.”

You turned towards him, grazing his cheek and feeling his warm breath over your lips. “Then we mustn’t speak of them.”

And you didn’t. As the winter stretched out and the cold engulfed the country, you and Adam remained warm and full in spite of it all. You were never not enthralled seeing him interact with animals so easily. It felt beyond endearing, and you particularly enjoyed watching him feed the deer that often gathered outside of the house.

Everything about him felt easy and kind and beautiful, and if you were being honest with yourself in the increasingly rarer lonesome moments of yours, you’ve become very fond of Adam.

In truth, you believed you loved him.

How, precisely, you could not tell. Perhaps the longing hiding in your ribcage, begging to be gently exposed, was not from a place of genuine need, but rather worry.

You tried to stifle it. You had all the time in the world, you felt. And truthfully, you were not certain how you could broach the subject with Adam, if there was even need for it. There was nothing which insisted upon being defined—all feelings passed with ease and mutual understanding between you and him, and you wished for nothing else of this life.

“Can you read me some more of the book, please?”

Adam’s request came tonight after eating soup, some stew with carrots and potatoes and a pie you baked for dessert. You were both full and content, now by the fire. You held Pride & Prejudice in your hands, re-reading it for what felt like the hundredth time.

It was yours and Adam’s favorite.

You chuckled. “We’ve read this so many times already.”

“Please?”

He blinked slowly at you, a gesture you felt he did subconsciously, yet it was beyond endearing to you.

You knew you couldn’t resist, and ultimately, Adam knew it too. He sat cross-legged before you, his eyes unmoved from the direction of your face as you opened the book and cleared your throat.

“From the beginning?”

“If you’d like. Thank you.”

“’It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife. However little known the feelings or views of such a man may be on his first entering a neighborhood, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding families, that he is considered as the rightful property of someone or other of their daughters.’”

Adam smiled, and you did too. You did not know how long you read into the night or when your eyelids began to feel heavy, nor when you finally drifted off to sleep, once waking by the swing of familiar, strong arms, carrying you to bed and cuddling next to you. All you knew is that you were as warm as you’ve been for months now, heart and soul both full, never aching.

“I love you,” came from his throat, words so saccharine and fulfilling you felt your eyes tear up, closed as they were.

You knew there was no need to say it. After all, you hadn’t said it even when you thought of it and wanted to. You knew that what you and Adam shared transcended mere words and actions.

And yet you couldn’t help but reciprocate, still and cozy in the dimmed light of the fire still cracking somewhere in the grand room. “I love you as well, Adam.”

[lavendertales]

OMFG!!! queen of the faceless?! did i just see ur active?!

idk if u remember me from way back in 2021😅 i only recently started regularly posting again! i saw your post and that you changed ur name! wow! you were literally one of my favorite people on this app!!!🥹 i remember reading everything you wrote and adoring every comment and message you’d leave for me. i swear you had me giggling every time! you never failed to make my day! you always inspired me to write, hell, you were one of the people who got me into writing in the first place!

obv i did a little deep dive cause i saw ur no longer writing for P.P. 👀and damn, love, i don’t blame u. i’m also so disgusted with that side of the fandom. shit’s definitely not my cup of tea and I’ve blocked that part out so i don’t blame u at all for leaving. needless to say, however, im so broken hearted that you’re gone. for a while there in the beginning i swear it was you me and like 20 or so other writers only. that time is so nostalgic and beautiful to me. it’s like an angel lost its wings😭

anywho… i wanted to stop by and give you my love and let you know that you’re still thought about and missed dearly. you’ll always be queen of the faceless in my heart🥺

xoxoxo

BABE!!! oh my goodness, talk about a blast from the past!! I've missed you❤️

tell me about it, so many things happened in the past 5 years, holy shit! I have been struggling with writing for a while, and after I finished the last PP project, a Javi series, I was done for good. seeing how the Pedro fandom has turned, I had no interest in writing for it if it meant more struggle and pain than happiness. somehow the fics have gotten darker and darker and the general public seem to love them, which is great if they do, but I can recognize that it's not my cup of tea and thus cannot "join the trend" as it were.

you're making me so nostalgic 😭😭 nothing compares to the 2020/2022 era in this fandom, I swear.. me not writing for Pedro's characters might be subject to change should I feel inspired again (who knows how I'll feel after the Mando movie next year lmaooo) but yeah, for the past 2 years I've been done with it. I do love coming across my older works and re-reading them sometimes, I can't believe I was churning out chapter after chapter in the pandemic 😭

aaanyway, you made my whole evening, THANK YOU, I love you, and I am still around. dipping my toes back into writing for new characters 🤭

[lavendertales]

hello!!!🩵🩵

i just found your account recently and have been binge reading all your javier peña fics!! holy shit! your fics are some of the best written work i’ve read in a while! you’re so incredibly talented! i can’t explain how invested i am in your stories!

i know you’re not writing for him anymore and i totally understand. i just needed to thank you. you’ve been the highlight of my evening for the past several days. if you ever do decide to write again, i hope you know, i will be the first in line!😇

wishing you only the best!💋

hi darling! ❤️

I'll be perfectly honest with you, this made me very teary-eyed. I cannot fully express the gratitude and happiness I feel knowing there are still people finding my work and enjoying it to its fullness 🥹 it truly is one of the best feelings in the world, and it honestly motivates me to try and be more active with my writing - been dipping my toes in as of last week and it feels quite good I have to say.

you've been the highlight of my week as of now, THANK YOU 🥹❤️ giving you a big virtual hug!!

[lavendertales]

unchained—the Creature x f!reader**

summary: the Creature (Adam) gets curious about his physical feelings towards you, so you teach him.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: unprotected piv, cowgirl, pwp, cockwarming. this is basically the Creature's first time. idk i love him

A/N: I wrote this drunk last night & with no real plot in mind, just consumed by Frankenstein (2025). first fic in like 2 years, hope you enjoy❤️

gif: @headph0neson

There is hesitation percolating through his mechanical movements; his eyes betray his restlessness the most, even as they rest comfortably on your figure. You approach him, carefully studying his expression, and it becomes clearer with each passing second and each removed inch between the two of you that something resides on his mind.

“Are you alright?” you can’t help but ask.

He looks as if he’s about to nod, but then changes his mind at the very last second and shakes his head ever so slightly. His eyes are still on your figure, once in a while falling upon your mouth. You draw in a sharp breath.

“What’s the matter?”

“When you kissed me, the other day… I felt—something.”

You try not to chuckle, despite feeling flushed already. “I should hope so.”

Adam smiles—yes, the both of you settled on the name Adam as it carried a certain appeal to him. It was his very own name, something of his own, distinguishable from his dreadful past.

Oh, how you adored his smile.

“No,” he clarifies, still smiling. “Something… more.”

The way he struggles to say the word ‘more’, as if it is something shameful, it pains me in a certain way. Although the more you look at him, the more you come to realize that it most likely comes from a place of curiosity instead of shame.

And then you start to realize what he means.

“Oh,” is all you can get out, feeling more flushed this time around. Truth is, that more has been something heavy on your mind as well—for quite some time. You didn’t want to broach the subject with Adam, fully aware that it is a foreign concept to him and that it is, perhaps, something out of his comfort zone and out of his line of interest.

It seems as if you were wrong.

“What did you feel?” you ask, taking his hands into yours.

“I felt… a twitch. Down—down here. When you kissed me, something ached. A need... of some kind.”

You don’t know how to react more than a playful chuckle, suppressed—you wouldn’t want Adam to feel ashamed in any way or to have him believe you would mock him in any way. But you also cannot help the flood of heat and desire that races through you, coursing shamelessly through your bloodstream. Adam is unlike any other man you’ve ever met; granted, the may not be quite human, not quite man, but everything about him is so curious and kind and untainted.

Yet you long to for a stain in his purity, something akin to pure hunger that you can call your own. To claim him as your own.

“That is normal,” you breathe towards him, your pulse an erratic beat behind your ribcage.

“It is?”

“Yes. When you care for someone, and when you… develop feelings for them… it manifests physically.”

“Physically?”

You subdue a chuckle yet again; everything about him is new and enticing and enthralling, and you want to savor this moment, cherish it, preserve it and freeze it in time.

A moment where there is only you and him, together, and not a single threat posed to either one of you.

You nod. “Yes, physically. The body sometimes responds before the mind—at least, in men’s cases.”

“But I am not truly a man.”

“You are more man than anyone I’ve ever encountered.”

You cup his cheeks, Adam exhaling restlessly inside your palm. You’re not quite  sure when it all escalates or how; all you know is that Adam radiates enough warmth for you to tiptoe and press a sincere kiss on his lips, pulling him closer. He’s shockingly vocal, but you suppose it makes sense given how everything is anew to him. That’s how he treats you as well: a blank canvas waiting to be explored, filled with colors you wouldn’t have even dreamt of.

The more you kiss Adam and hold him against your body, the more you feel what he told you about; he’s rock hard at this point, and while you’re quite surprised that all of his bodily functions are intact and normal, you still moan in his mouth.

Which acts as a catalyst for him to evoke the same sounds, more guttural by nature, and end up atop of you. He’s eager, yet restrained; the same restrained curiosity you’ve grown accustomed to. He’s not wearing many clothes, which works in your favor as you work to undress him hastily, all the while with Adam huffing next to your ear, his shock at the sight of you never wavering.

“You are breathtaking,” he tells you, and you shudder at the sound of his voice, the thought of him admiring you so thusly.

You believe him; there is nothing in this world that would make you not believe Adam. You kiss him everywhere, not just his lips, hoping to get a rise out of him as soon as possible: his neck, his collarbones, his arms, all of which are, admittedly, uncharted territory to him, but upon hearing his groans, increasingly more desperate, you figure you’re doing something right. You take it upon yourself to remove your own clothes, albeit your dress proving to be a challenge in and of itself. But haste has its perks, for you move faster than you ever have with the fabric, including undergarments, and soon you’re left bare before Adam, aching and pleading silently with a single lustful glare at him. Your eyes drop fleetingly to his manhood and you gulp, utterly flattered to notice that he is hard and surely aching by this point.

“How are you feeling?” you ask him.

“It’s strange.”

“What is?”

“All of this… desire.”

You fleetingly smile, your legs spreading open further for him. His gaze drops, swallowing harshly.

“How do you know it is desire?”  you ask, half curious, half flirting.

“What else can it be when it comes to you?”

You pull him in again and again, kissing him till your lips feel raw and as needy as you feel. Your movements feel rushed as your hands roam freely around his body—surprisingly, he’s never been one to shy away from your touch, regardless of how you proclaim it—and each tug, each caress earns you a moan or a gasp from his side.

“If it is too much, you should tell me,” you tell him, catching his eyes staring in wonder between your legs.

“I’m not sure… what to do. What do I do?”

With a smile, you reach and undo his breeches, keeping your surprise to yourself—you figured Victor would’ve made everything proportional and as beautiful-looking as possible but fucking hell, this was a pleasant surprise.

“Do you trust me?” you ask him.

Adam nods incessantly. “Always.”

“Okay. Touch me.”

You don’t want to overwhelm him, so you take his hand and guide it to your pussy, smiling when you earn a gasp and a surprised face from his side. He caresses you, dragging his fingers through your soaked folds, earning soft gasps from you.

“It’s wet,” Adam remarks.

You chuckle, the sound earnest and pleased. “Yes. That happens to women when they desire someone.”

“You… want me?”

He sounds more than shocked; quite trifled and astounded. You nod frantically, by this point dripping with need.

“Yes, Adam. Always.”

He takes a while to process your words, but he does so nonetheless. It’s almost as if your words become law to him, something to tether himself to. 

“What do I do now?” he asks, his voice betraying both curiosity and fear.

“Here.”

You guide your hand to his cock, now fully erect, and he groans as you give it a few strokes and guide it to your entrance. His eyes are fully blown, as if he cannot believe what is happening and what is in front of him as of now.

Adam watches enthralled as you guide him further inside you, a pleasurable moan escaping your mouth as he thrusts inside you. Inch by inch, you swallow him whole it seems.

Fully sheathed inside of you, your mouth remains ajar as you stare longingly at him, unable to suppress the moans escaping past your vocal chords. Your whole body is afire, your face a canvass of your love and appreciation for your beloved Creature, and his face a combination of shock and lust.

“How does that feel?” you manage to ask him.

It feels like you’re going insane, utterly maddened by his curiosity, his sensitivity and love for you, all of which are undoubtable.

“Ethereal,” Adam murmurs, and leans over to press a kiss on your lips and forehead.

His movements remain mechanical. It is clear he’s unsure as to how to proceed, but his eyes, oh his big, wonderful and pure eyes, they remain locked on the movement of his cock between your legs. They seem to be fascinated by the way he fits inside you, and you are no exception to said marvel.

You try to move so that you meet with more of his hips, and you catch Adam by surprise with those motions; he stares in awe, almost aghast, at the sight of his cock thrusting in and out of you, and you moan as he does so. He doesn’t pose any questions anymore, he simply watches and follows your sounds, your scent and your movements. Soon he catches the drift, especially after one of your hands sinks its nails deep into his back and pulls him forward.

Thank goodness he feels little to no pain from this.

You mean to inflict no pain, you simply wish to sink into him, to have him and own him in primal ways, in caring and loving ways, those of which have not been taught to him by his creator. You both move together in a set rhythm, albeit stunted by it being a first time, with Adam’s eyes alternating between your face and your glistening pussy.

“Is this—good?” he asks, his face dangerously close to yours.

“Yes—oh gods, yes… so… so good…”

Words fail you in this moment of need, but you do not need them it seems. Your hands roam aimlessly on his back, the staccato rhythm of his hips more than a distraction or a want—a necessity; an insatiable craving, a hunger to be held, one you are more than certain Adam shares it as well.

You are very much aware of how touch-starved he is, and in so many ways, you reciprocate the sentiment. But Adam’s curiosity and lack of experience make him the perfect lover. It causes a stir inside of you, a storm brewing all too dangerously to the surface and an ache you found only he can soothe.

You feel him tense above you, a clumsiness about him that is more than endearing. He watches your every move, listens to every sound you make, in awe of how tender and warm you are, how malleable and willing in his presence.

A fact which will never not surprise him.

“Adam, wait,” you breathe, cupping his cheek.

On command, Adam halts all movements, blinking inquisitively at you.

“Have I hurt you?” he asks.

You feel a tug in your chest, eyes a little bit teary. By gods, you couldn’t stand the thought of someone so utterly soft and attentive by nature.

“No,” you smile. “You are wonderful. Do you trust me?”

“With my life. Endless as it may be. But it only means I get endless lifetimes to learn you.”

Breathless, you rise a little and shift so that now you are the one atop of him. Adam is evidently taken aback—one of the many endearing things about him is how he cannot hide a single emotion he feels for the life of him, endless as it may be, as he put it earlier—and you smile widely at him.

The stretch is glorious; Adam’s giant hands reach to your hips, resting there tentatively. He gazes upon your body as if he were charting a map, studious and careful, his eyes never absent of intensity and admiration.

“More,” he groans, mouth agape. “Please.”

And more you give: you start to move up and down slowly, taking every inch of him in a stretch that heats your entire body and causes your head to spin; Adam groans, the sound low and nearly pained from deep within, yet you know by watching him it cannot be that of pain. Adam tries his darnest to remain still on the bed simply because watching you take pleasure from him this way is maddening, but he finds that he cannot do so. He reaches up to meet you halfway, his fingers grazing your cheek. You cling to him, anchoring yourself to his broad shoulders as you keep riding him, and pull him closer. You find his lips in a rushed take, the kiss careless and despairing.

There’s a rush throughout your extremities, a wave of heat impossible to contain in your chest. You have never felt a fire like this one, an affection quite as strong as the one you carry for Adam. It stretches beyond the physical—although gods beware, simply feeling his cock buried inside of you so intimately and sweetly is reason enough.

He feels you tense, your movements more rapid and messy. He tries to hold you steadily, but he fails. Just as he had previously failed. And yet he realizes he does not care. He wants to see you break, he wants to see you come undone before him, with him inside of you. Something tells him you can take it—just as you can take him—and that you want to take it.

“Oh fuck—I am so close—“

He wishes to ask you what you mean, but words fail him. He feels, simultaneously, whole and fractured. He watches your face contort in what he presumes is pleasure, untethered, unashamed and whole, and he feels you quiver around him. You seize, the warmth of your walls clenched all around him, squeezing his cock in a tighter confinement.

And then he breaks.

In this moment, gravity is not what holds him, but rather you. You are all that he sees, all that he smells, craves and wants—and all that he feels. You are all that he feels as he spills himself inside of you with a roar that shakes the room to its foundation. You are all that he feels when his head drops in the crook of your neck, kissing every inch of skin his lips can trail. You are all that he feels as your hands cradle his head, tender and poisoned with raw need.

When your eyes find his again, they are as soft and as kind as you know them, yet they seem to contain something else as well. Something which you can also identify as of now.

Pleasure.

You barely move now, having felt him twitch and convulse inside you mere moments ago. Neither of you seems eager to break the touch, but you suspect Adam is much less inclined to do so than you.

“Can I stay?” he asks.

“What do you mean? Of course you can.”

“I wish to stay like this. For a while longer, inside you. You are warm and welcoming and…”

You cup his cheeks in your hands, your palms feeling the small ridges and indentations of him.

“And what?” you ask, kissing his nose.

“Mine.”

You smile wider than you have before, now sated and happy. “I am yours. Always.”

[vadersaber]

OOMF RETURNED TO THE WRITING SCENE AND OFFERED US THIS??? FOR FREE??? WDYM YOU WROTE THIS DRUNK HOLY SHIT😭😭😭😭 I LOVE HIM YOUR HONOR

[lavendertales]

aw darling THANK YOU!! I was so nervous to post this but it felt so good to write again after so long 🥹❤️

[lavendertales]

I LOVE THE WAY U WRITE ADAM THAT WAS SO GOOD!!! 🥹

ahh thank you, love!! I thought I'd just dip my toes into this bc the Frankenstein brainrot is consuming me, I'm so happy you liked it 😭❤️

[lavendertales]

unchained—the Creature x f!reader**

summary: the Creature (Adam) gets curious about his physical feelings towards you, so you teach him.

word count: 2.6k

warnings: unprotected piv, cowgirl, pwp, cockwarming. this is basically the Creature's first time. idk i love him

A/N: I wrote this drunk last night & with no real plot in mind, just consumed by Frankenstein (2025). first fic in like 2 years, hope you enjoy❤️

gif: @headph0neson

There is hesitation percolating through his mechanical movements; his eyes betray his restlessness the most, even as they rest comfortably on your figure. You approach him, carefully studying his expression, and it becomes clearer with each passing second and each removed inch between the two of you that something resides on his mind.

“Are you alright?” you can’t help but ask.

He looks as if he’s about to nod, but then changes his mind at the very last second and shakes his head ever so slightly. His eyes are still on your figure, once in a while falling upon your mouth. You draw in a sharp breath.

“What’s the matter?”

“When you kissed me, the other day… I felt—something.”

You try not to chuckle, despite feeling flushed already. “I should hope so.”

Adam smiles—yes, the both of you settled on the name Adam as it carried a certain appeal to him. It was his very own name, something of his own, distinguishable from his dreadful past.

Oh, how you adored his smile.

“No,” he clarifies, still smiling. “Something… more.”

The way he struggles to say the word ‘more’, as if it is something shameful, it pains me in a certain way. Although the more you look at him, the more you come to realize that it most likely comes from a place of curiosity instead of shame.

And then you start to realize what he means.

“Oh,” is all you can get out, feeling more flushed this time around. Truth is, that more has been something heavy on your mind as well—for quite some time. You didn’t want to broach the subject with Adam, fully aware that it is a foreign concept to him and that it is, perhaps, something out of his comfort zone and out of his line of interest.

It seems as if you were wrong.

“What did you feel?” you ask, taking his hands into yours.

“I felt… a twitch. Down—down here. When you kissed me, something ached. A need... of some kind.”

You don’t know how to react more than a playful chuckle, suppressed—you wouldn’t want Adam to feel ashamed in any way or to have him believe you would mock him in any way. But you also cannot help the flood of heat and desire that races through you, coursing shamelessly through your bloodstream. Adam is unlike any other man you’ve ever met; granted, the may not be quite human, not quite man, but everything about him is so curious and kind and untainted.

Yet you long to for a stain in his purity, something akin to pure hunger that you can call your own. To claim him as your own.

“That is normal,” you breathe towards him, your pulse an erratic beat behind your ribcage.

“It is?”

“Yes. When you care for someone, and when you… develop feelings for them… it manifests physically.”

“Physically?”

You subdue a chuckle yet again; everything about him is new and enticing and enthralling, and you want to savor this moment, cherish it, preserve it and freeze it in time.

A moment where there is only you and him, together, and not a single threat posed to either one of you.

You nod. “Yes, physically. The body sometimes responds before the mind—at least, in men’s cases.”

“But I am not truly a man.”

“You are more man than anyone I’ve ever encountered.”

You cup his cheeks, Adam exhaling restlessly inside your palm. You’re not quite  sure when it all escalates or how; all you know is that Adam radiates enough warmth for you to tiptoe and press a sincere kiss on his lips, pulling him closer. He’s shockingly vocal, but you suppose it makes sense given how everything is anew to him. That’s how he treats you as well: a blank canvas waiting to be explored, filled with colors you wouldn’t have even dreamt of.

The more you kiss Adam and hold him against your body, the more you feel what he told you about; he’s rock hard at this point, and while you’re quite surprised that all of his bodily functions are intact and normal, you still moan in his mouth.

Which acts as a catalyst for him to evoke the same sounds, more guttural by nature, and end up atop of you. He’s eager, yet restrained; the same restrained curiosity you’ve grown accustomed to. He’s not wearing many clothes, which works in your favor as you work to undress him hastily, all the while with Adam huffing next to your ear, his shock at the sight of you never wavering.

“You are breathtaking,” he tells you, and you shudder at the sound of his voice, the thought of him admiring you so thusly.

You believe him; there is nothing in this world that would make you not believe Adam. You kiss him everywhere, not just his lips, hoping to get a rise out of him as soon as possible: his neck, his collarbones, his arms, all of which are, admittedly, uncharted territory to him, but upon hearing his groans, increasingly more desperate, you figure you’re doing something right. You take it upon yourself to remove your own clothes, albeit your dress proving to be a challenge in and of itself. But haste has its perks, for you move faster than you ever have with the fabric, including undergarments, and soon you’re left bare before Adam, aching and pleading silently with a single lustful glare at him. Your eyes drop fleetingly to his manhood and you gulp, utterly flattered to notice that he is hard and surely aching by this point.

“How are you feeling?” you ask him.

“It’s strange.”

“What is?”

“All of this… desire.”

You fleetingly smile, your legs spreading open further for him. His gaze drops, swallowing harshly.

“How do you know it is desire?”  you ask, half curious, half flirting.

“What else can it be when it comes to you?”

You pull him in again and again, kissing him till your lips feel raw and as needy as you feel. Your movements feel rushed as your hands roam freely around his body—surprisingly, he’s never been one to shy away from your touch, regardless of how you proclaim it—and each tug, each caress earns you a moan or a gasp from his side.

“If it is too much, you should tell me,” you tell him, catching his eyes staring in wonder between your legs.

“I’m not sure… what to do. What do I do?”

With a smile, you reach and undo his breeches, keeping your surprise to yourself—you figured Victor would’ve made everything proportional and as beautiful-looking as possible but fucking hell, this was a pleasant surprise.

“Do you trust me?” you ask him.

Adam nods incessantly. “Always.”

“Okay. Touch me.”

You don’t want to overwhelm him, so you take his hand and guide it to your pussy, smiling when you earn a gasp and a surprised face from his side. He caresses you, dragging his fingers through your soaked folds, earning soft gasps from you.

“It’s wet,” Adam remarks.

You chuckle, the sound earnest and pleased. “Yes. That happens to women when they desire someone.”

“You… want me?”

He sounds more than shocked; quite trifled and astounded. You nod frantically, by this point dripping with need.

“Yes, Adam. Always.”

He takes a while to process your words, but he does so nonetheless. It’s almost as if your words become law to him, something to tether himself to. 

“What do I do now?” he asks, his voice betraying both curiosity and fear.

“Here.”

You guide your hand to his cock, now fully erect, and he groans as you give it a few strokes and guide it to your entrance. His eyes are fully blown, as if he cannot believe what is happening and what is in front of him as of now.

Adam watches enthralled as you guide him further inside you, a pleasurable moan escaping your mouth as he thrusts inside you. Inch by inch, you swallow him whole it seems.

Fully sheathed inside of you, your mouth remains ajar as you stare longingly at him, unable to suppress the moans escaping past your vocal chords. Your whole body is afire, your face a canvass of your love and appreciation for your beloved Creature, and his face a combination of shock and lust.

“How does that feel?” you manage to ask him.

It feels like you’re going insane, utterly maddened by his curiosity, his sensitivity and love for you, all of which are undoubtable.

“Ethereal,” Adam murmurs, and leans over to press a kiss on your lips and forehead.

His movements remain mechanical. It is clear he’s unsure as to how to proceed, but his eyes, oh his big, wonderful and pure eyes, they remain locked on the movement of his cock between your legs. They seem to be fascinated by the way he fits inside you, and you are no exception to said marvel.

You try to move so that you meet with more of his hips, and you catch Adam by surprise with those motions; he stares in awe, almost aghast, at the sight of his cock thrusting in and out of you, and you moan as he does so. He doesn’t pose any questions anymore, he simply watches and follows your sounds, your scent and your movements. Soon he catches the drift, especially after one of your hands sinks its nails deep into his back and pulls him forward.

Thank goodness he feels little to no pain from this.

You mean to inflict no pain, you simply wish to sink into him, to have him and own him in primal ways, in caring and loving ways, those of which have not been taught to him by his creator. You both move together in a set rhythm, albeit stunted by it being a first time, with Adam’s eyes alternating between your face and your glistening pussy.

“Is this—good?” he asks, his face dangerously close to yours.

“Yes—oh gods, yes… so… so good…”

Words fail you in this moment of need, but you do not need them it seems. Your hands roam aimlessly on his back, the staccato rhythm of his hips more than a distraction or a want—a necessity; an insatiable craving, a hunger to be held, one you are more than certain Adam shares it as well.

You are very much aware of how touch-starved he is, and in so many ways, you reciprocate the sentiment. But Adam’s curiosity and lack of experience make him the perfect lover. It causes a stir inside of you, a storm brewing all too dangerously to the surface and an ache you found only he can soothe.

You feel him tense above you, a clumsiness about him that is more than endearing. He watches your every move, listens to every sound you make, in awe of how tender and warm you are, how malleable and willing in his presence.

A fact which will never not surprise him.

“Adam, wait,” you breathe, cupping his cheek.

On command, Adam halts all movements, blinking inquisitively at you.

“Have I hurt you?” he asks.

You feel a tug in your chest, eyes a little bit teary. By gods, you couldn’t stand the thought of someone so utterly soft and attentive by nature.

“No,” you smile. “You are wonderful. Do you trust me?”

“With my life. Endless as it may be. But it only means I get endless lifetimes to learn you.”

Breathless, you rise a little and shift so that now you are the one atop of him. Adam is evidently taken aback—one of the many endearing things about him is how he cannot hide a single emotion he feels for the life of him, endless as it may be, as he put it earlier—and you smile widely at him.

The stretch is glorious; Adam’s giant hands reach to your hips, resting there tentatively. He gazes upon your body as if he were charting a map, studious and careful, his eyes never absent of intensity and admiration.

“More,” he groans, mouth agape. “Please.”

And more you give: you start to move up and down slowly, taking every inch of him in a stretch that heats your entire body and causes your head to spin; Adam groans, the sound low and nearly pained from deep within, yet you know by watching him it cannot be that of pain. Adam tries his darnest to remain still on the bed simply because watching you take pleasure from him this way is maddening, but he finds that he cannot do so. He reaches up to meet you halfway, his fingers grazing your cheek. You cling to him, anchoring yourself to his broad shoulders as you keep riding him, and pull him closer. You find his lips in a rushed take, the kiss careless and despairing.

There’s a rush throughout your extremities, a wave of heat impossible to contain in your chest. You have never felt a fire like this one, an affection quite as strong as the one you carry for Adam. It stretches beyond the physical—although gods beware, simply feeling his cock buried inside of you so intimately and sweetly is reason enough.

He feels you tense, your movements more rapid and messy. He tries to hold you steadily, but he fails. Just as he had previously failed. And yet he realizes he does not care. He wants to see you break, he wants to see you come undone before him, with him inside of you. Something tells him you can take it—just as you can take him—and that you want to take it.

“Oh fuck—I am so close—“

He wishes to ask you what you mean, but words fail him. He feels, simultaneously, whole and fractured. He watches your face contort in what he presumes is pleasure, untethered, unashamed and whole, and he feels you quiver around him. You seize, the warmth of your walls clenched all around him, squeezing his cock in a tighter confinement.

And then he breaks.

In this moment, gravity is not what holds him, but rather you. You are all that he sees, all that he smells, craves and wants—and all that he feels. You are all that he feels as he spills himself inside of you with a roar that shakes the room to its foundation. You are all that he feels when his head drops in the crook of your neck, kissing every inch of skin his lips can trail. You are all that he feels as your hands cradle his head, tender and poisoned with raw need.

When your eyes find his again, they are as soft and as kind as you know them, yet they seem to contain something else as well. Something which you can also identify as of now.

Pleasure.

You barely move now, having felt him twitch and convulse inside you mere moments ago. Neither of you seems eager to break the touch, but you suspect Adam is much less inclined to do so than you.

“Can I stay?” he asks.

“What do you mean? Of course you can.”

“I wish to stay like this. For a while longer, inside you. You are warm and welcoming and…”

You cup his cheeks in your hands, your palms feeling the small ridges and indentations of him.

“And what?” you ask, kissing his nose.

“Mine.”

You smile wider than you have before, now sated and happy. “I am yours. Always.”

[lavendertales]

https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZP8SNpg8B/ I hope you know what a talented writer you are!!

THIS IS SO SWEET YOU HAVE NO IDEA HOW EMOTIONAL THIS MADE ME 😭😭 i haven't written in close to 2 years so to see people occasionally discover my work is.. incredible. Thank you love 😭💞💞

[lavendertales]

“Do I wanna Know?” and “In the Eyes of the Beholder” mini-series are some of my all time favourite Alfie fics!! Thank you so much for writing them, I love your fics!! Thank you for being here 🖤

omg thank you SO much!! it fills me with so much happiness knowing people still enjoy my stories ❤️thank you for this❤️

[lavendertales]

hi, i just started reading guilty pleasures bc it was rec'd and omg, love it!!! love the premise too, i can't wait to see the whole story unfold!!

i wanted to ask (if its ok) whether you plan on writing more joel now that season 2 of tlou is coming out this sunday? i really really like your writing and i think you'd do incredible with more joel! just out of curiosity, no pressure or anything <3

hi love, sorry for answering this later, I'm not much on here anymore but thank you SO much!! I'm so happy you're enjoying that story!❤️

uh, well honestly I'd love to write something, anything, but I haven't felt inspired in over a year. and with everything that's happened (both personally & in this fandom), I set the pen aside, so to say. it's been over a year since I've written anything and I don't know if I can cook something up. forcing it wouldn't help either, so I'll likely just be a watcher of the show from afar! but I do hope you enjoy(ed) my one and only Joel series and thank you for this, it's made me smile thinking there are people who are still discovering my stories 🙏🏽❤️

[22thumbs]

Age gap fics

A lot of age gap Joel fics are Joel Miller with a younger woman. I'm curious if anyone's written any age gap Joel relationships where Joel goes for an older woman.

[wildemaven]

Reblogging with a link to a list of writers who don’t write age gaps or write large age gaps where most readers are in their 30s or older (I believe there’s a few who have no age specified as well).

Post by @tessa-quayle · 1 image

💬 74  🔁 130  ❤️ 373 · 👀 · Are you a reader in search of a fic that involves no age gap*? this post is inspired by @famouslyanonymous - she

I’m sure there’s more we could add to this at this point.

[vadersaber]

btw my dear moot @lavendertales also has an age (appropriate) gap joel miller series (i believe the reader is late 30s and joel is in his 50s), i'll link it down below:

Alice, 29, writer | multi-fandom | MINORS & EMPTY BLOGS DNI | MASTERLIST | fic recs | SHOP

[lavendertales]

thank you so much for the mention @vadersaber and shoutout to all the great writers on this list!!❤️

yup, that's my (one and only) Joel series, Guilty Pleasures! reader is in their 30s indeed (whether early or late, that's up to you as the reader) and Joel is in his 50s (I had in mind very early 50s Joel, so 50-52, but do with that range as you will😌)

[lavendertales]

ik a lot of people mention LIOM because that's probably your most known fic (others are so underrated) or cyare but for me some of my all time favorites are tempter and love in the dark. especially lve in the dark. that one was sooo visceral and hot and so so good!! and tempter... good fuckign gooooood i constantly re read that masterpiece!! the tension betwene din & reader, the feelings, the action.. SO GOOD

yeah I think LIOM is probably my most known fic (and I do take such pride in that story, I LOVED LOVED LOVED working on it and seeing everyone's reactions to each chapter haha) but you woke some feelings in me when you mentioned Tempter and Love in the Dark!!

Love in the Dark was so fun to plan & write, but Tempter was supposed to be a one shot, and then multiple people asked for more and somehow a story was born. I'm so immensely thrilled you enjoy those as well 🥹💞