sebastian (stardew valley)/reader | read it on ao3
sebastian helps out while you experience The Horrors (period)
wc: 1k
tags: period comfort, fluff, no use of y/n
written as a gift for my darling @velvetlilith777 but shared for all you period havers, you're all doing better than you think, i love you
𓇼 ⋆.˚ masterlist < moved to the new blog
“anything else from the store?” sebastian’s voice crackled through the phone.
you groaned into the microphone, curled up into a little donut on the bed, nose crinkled as your face scrunched into a grimace.
“n-no… just come here.” vaguely, you could hear his response, a quick okay love you gonna be there soon before he ended the call, already winded as you guessed he started rushing himself.
it was the only way, you had no pads left in the house, and no time to go and restock before your morning started with a horrible stabbing pain in your abdomen that just continued pulsating. the painkillers did that wonderful thing again, the one they liked to pull on you when you needed them most - they did absolutely fuck all. exceeding the recommended dose for the day of two different types of ingredients, much to the displeasure of doctor harvey, didn’t work yet again. just my luck, you thought, on the last day that i can plant those blasted pumpkins this year. if it was yoba’s punishment for whatever sin you may have committed in your life - you were pretty sure they were just being a hateful bitch at this point. nobody deserved this. not even pierre, the damn cunt who had raised prices of pads and tampons so much that you had to go to the city if you didn’t want to go bankrupt for basic life necessities.
ugh. it was a pain trying to roll over, but at least you could try telekinesis again if only you could face the open space of your bedroom-living-room-kitchen again, willing the kettle to boil, the last tea bag to jump into a mug, douse itself in boiling water, and levitate towards where you were curled up into a croissant on the bed.
what felt like an eternity later, you found yourself cemented in the opinion that you just couldn’t use telekinesis and you should just give up. just as you closed your eyes again, resigning yourself to wait out the pain by trying to trick yourself to fall asleep again, the spare key turned in the lock of the front door.
sebastian all but ran inside, carrying way too big of a bag for what you had sent him to the store for - a big pack of pads, some pain medication, and a box of cinnamon tea. simple, right? you groaned again, trying to lift yourself up into a sitting position that just wasn’t happening, when he rushed over to you, planting a small kiss to your forehead before he ran back into the kitchen to unpack everything from the bag. you watch in disbelief, through the slit between your almost shut eyelids.
a giant chocolate bar. another giant chocolate bar. a bottle of milk. two boxes of cinnamon tea. one, two, three packs of painkillers. two packs of pads, what looked like a comically big tub of chocolate chip ice cream, and a tray of cookies. he looked back with a smirk before hurrying to fill up the kettle, putting it on the base to boil while he put away the items he had unloaded onto your kitchen counter.
“sorry i took so long, they had to verify that i’m not about to off myself with so many painkillers. you’d think that the rest of the basket would make it obvious what they’re for but… whatever, protocol, i guess.” he kept talking, more to himself than anything else as you lay looking lifeless on the bed, slowly opening and closing your eyelids.
“mhm…” you managed to squeeze out, just waiting for the moment when you didn’t have to end your every thought with a voiceless just fucking kill me already.
you must have dozed off for a minute there, for when you opened your eyes again, it was to sebastian gently, carefully, moving you to place a hot water bottle, freshly refilled with the water from the kettle, against your abdomen. oh if you could move right now, he’d be getting his entire face smooched. his quick smile stayed in between your eyeballs and eyelids as you closed them again, feeling the warmth spread through your body slowly, numbing you a little before melting your limbs, unsticking them from a clenched up state you spent the morning in.
he was back again soon, carefully walking with a mug full of hot tea, steeping with a tea bag in as he placed it onto the bedside table next to you. one more forehead kiss, one more trip into the kitchen as you watched his back disappear from your line of sight. it was almost instantaneous, or maybe you dozed off again, because he was back so quickly with a chocolate bar that he also placed next to you on the bedside table and circled your bed, climbing in carefully so he wouldn’t disturb you too much.
“there we go,” he gently spoke as his body slotted against yours. his feet slowly traced yours, his knees fitting perfectly against the backs of yours, his chest against your back, his lips on the back of your head. “there we go.” he repeated.
you didn’t speak again, the thick duvet he tucked both of you under carried the perfect weight, and you felt like you could finally get a moment of peace, a moment of calm after the storm as his large hands travelled to where you clenched the hot water bottle against yourself. he pressed gently, creating just the right pressure on your aching body, making you groan, but more in satisfaction as the heat spread through you faster.
“got you now, it’s okay,” he continued, murmuring sweet things into your ear, murmuring all the things you’d be able to do when you felt better, offering to fight mother nature for you, offering to beat up your uterus if it didn’t stop hurting his love, anything to make you chuckle weakly. and he always succeeded. just like now, when you opened your eyes one more time to reach the mug and take a small sip, taking a look at the tag on the tea bag that loosely dangled from the mug. it had a cheesy line on it, one that certainly made you put the mug back and snicker to yourself as you closed your eyes, ready to drift off with him. you’re my cup of tea.
⋆˙⟡ burekforsatoru || do not modify, repost, or feed to AI
♡ if you enjoyed this, consider leaving a like, reblog, or a comment. interaction helps keep your writers motivated!
nagi seishiro/reader | 1k | read on ao3
fluff, kissing, no use of y/n
⁺₊⋆masterlist < moved to the new blog
waiting for a coffee refill at @pixelcafe-network
his nose is the first to get it.
nagi scrunches his face slightly, but doesn't pull away as you sit on his lap and gently press your lips on the very tip of his nose. it doesn't stop there, though. not a chance. your lips trail up to his forehead and down to his chin. across his cheeks, his hair tickles your face as you kiss across the bridge of his nose to finally—finally—land on his lips.
"really?" he sighs, sounding a little too amused for his feeble attempts to stay grumbly.
you don't even grace him with a reply, instead you just brush the tip of your nose against his and lean in to kiss it again, forehead, temple, cheek, eye… revelling in how he groans when he has to close his eyes for you to press your lips ever so gently to his lids, feeling the tickle of his white lashes against your pout.
sure, you didn't necessarily have to bother him while he's gaming, but since you were already sitting perched on his lap, snuggling into his chest while his arms were wrapped around you to hold his controller, you simply couldn't resist showing him at least a little more affection, not since he decided to absentmindedly press a kiss to the top of your head, grabbing your attention and waking you like a damn sleeper agent.
"i'm gonna die now," he warns, clearly trying to sound annoyed, "you've distracted me."
"you're full of shit," you reply, amusement coating your voice, "i know you paused it."
knowing he's caught in the blatant lie, his lips slowly stretch into a grin, almost subconsciously so as his eyes stay directed at the big screen, colours glowing on the back of your head and over his cheek. he tries to focus—you can tell in the twitch of his eyebrows—but now his eyes escape from their previous objective on the screen to catch a tiny glimpse of your face, seeing you're wearing that self-satisfied, cheeky little smile that says you know very well what you were doing.
"do you want me to quit?" he offers, eyebrow raised.
"no," you go on to kiss his jaw, from his chin back until you get to the sensitive skin just under his ear, "you can keep playing, i don't mind."
nagi weighs his options for a moment, though if he's being honest with himself there's only one option in this case, and you can hear the simple quiet tone that means the console is now off. with the controller no longer in his hands, he embraces you a little tighter, pulling you up a little higher so he can kiss you properly, parting your needy lips with his. you hum a little, instinctively relaxing your body in his familiar hold as the room sinks into a blue light coming from the led strips in the corners now that the tv screen has darkened. slowly, you bring your hands up from where they were tucked in between your bodies, safe and warm. now you can cup his face, thumbs resting on the apples of his cheeks while you stay there almost suspended in the moment as the only movement is in your lips and his.
"needy thing," he murmurs, pulling away only slightly so he can speak, "can't even let me finish the game, can you?"
you smile against his lips briefly before pecking them again. of course you could've let him finish playing, but where's the fun in that? why, when you can easily draw out that grumpy little pout that so quickly morphs into a sweet little curve that you like to kiss the most. nagi fixes the blanket around your shoulders, sighing as you curl up again, snuggling against his chest like you never intend on leaving this spot anyway. if only… because not even five minutes have gone past and he's already yawning, tilting his head left and right to release the tension in his neck. it means bed time, it means leaving this comfortable position, so you lift your head up and look at him expectantly, almost pleading not to move yet. he catches on, rolling his large grey eyes at you while you try your best to get at least five more minutes on his lap like this.
"come on…" he tries to poke your side, but in vain, as you don't even acknowledge it. "i wanna close my eyes and be horizontal, come to bed."
your pout deepens, but you relent with a sigh as you start to peel off him, already missing the warmth of his heart beating underneath your ear. wrapped into the blanket, you start waddling towards his bed, almost crashing into it once nagi's body is behind yours again, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you onto the mattress with him. under the duvet, you shed the blanket that's been clinging to your body, wrapping yourself in nagi's arms instead. it's been bed time for a while now, but something kept you glued to the comfy gaming chair, or rather, glued to nagi while he's in the comfy gaming chair, unable to peel his attention from the newest game he got this month. but now, in the soft cocoon of the bed, tightly embracing you in the still glowing blue lights due to time out any moment now, he doesn't think about the game. doesn't think about the upcoming practices or matches. there is only this moment, hanging in between one breath and the next, between the soft groan from his throat when he pulls himself closer to you and a sigh of comfort when your body slots against his so perfectly. soon enough, he's slipping one hand under your pyjama top to glide it across your back. not even trying for something more, in moments like these, the reassurance that you're here is what helps him forget about the rest of the world.
and forgetting it all is easy for nagi, especially when nothing matters more than you, nothing matters more than your figure pressed against him while he drifts off to sleep with his lips pressed against your forehead.
⋆˙⟡ burekforsatoru || do not modify, repost, or feed to AI
♡ if you enjoyed this, consider leaving a like, reblog, or a comment. interaction helps keep your writers motivated!
sebastian (stardew valley)/f! reader | read it on ao3
early morning with some time to spare
wc: 4.5k
tags: fluff and smut, piv, soft sex, creampie, no use of y/n
𓇼 ⋆.˚ masterlist < moved to the new blog
as soon as your eyes open, you sigh in relief. the sun isn’t out yet, therefore there are still at least a few hours of sleep to grab. your body aches, muscles taut even when you try to relax in bed, but several days of rushing around the farm in a row without a break don’t care about your soreness. they don’t care about the supplements you have to take on the regular, they don’t care about the painkillers. the farm takes, sometimes more than it gives. with a heavy groan you reach out to the bedside table and grab your phone, flipping it over to check the time.
it’s the middle of the fucking night.
a warm arm slides across your midriff and pulls you a little closer to the sleeping body in bed next to you. you huff a little, still annoyed that you looked at the bright screen only to see it’s nowhere near the time to be awake, but now your mind is alert. even when you’re slotted back into the crook of his neck, even when you’re once again covered by the duvet up to your neck, even when his fingers unconsciously trace little circles on your skin, with a grumpy face you close your eyes, trying to force yourself back to sleep. listening to his soft little breaths, quiet snores, and an occasional mumble… it slowly sways you back to sleep.
it’s only a little lighter the second time you wake up. the sound of bird songs fills the air, a little chilly so you pull up the duvet a little higher, hiding in the warmth before waking up fully. his arm is still across your waist, hand splayed over your stomach as he snores. surprisingly, it doesn’t even bother you. the noise isn’t too loud and it reminds you a little of a cat’s purring. it coaxes a smile onto your face, so you roll over, looking at his sleeping face in the soft light that pools on his nose through the gap in the curtains. in the golden morning light, it almost looks like his dark eyelashes are brown, his black hair has a warm shine to it as it spills over the satin pillowcase.
you count the faint freckles on his face over and over again, looking at the shape of each of them, noting the distance between the barely noticeable specks of color on his pale skin. he would hate even acknowledging their existence, so you take your time while he sleeps, admiring his softened features. his pale pink lips are slightly parted and smushed against the pillow, making them so adorable and kissable. his lashes sweep the tops of his cheeks, so unfairly long and thick, making you feel jealous of his luck, but at least you get the chance to look at them so closely.
you’re just about to appreciate the gentle slope of his nose when he stirs, moving his hand up your back slightly and – as if realizing it’s not your stomach he’s touching – slides it back down, feeling the curve of your ass that makes his lips tug into a little smirk. even barely clinging to a thread of consciousness, his palms gravitate towards the soft flesh, kneading it slowly as his breathing gives him away. you can tell he’s awake now, and when you let out a breath through your nose, trying so hard not to laugh at the fact that he grabbed for your ass before even waking up, he opens one eye. the smirk on his face only grows as you lean in to kiss his sleepy lips, and with one kiss, two… three for good luck, you pull away with a soft smile. one of his hands slides up your back again, caressing your neck while it traces up your ear, settling on the back of your head. you lean in again, taking the hint as you kiss him once more, only this time he shifts you on top of him.
your hands find themselves in his hair, fingers running through the messy strands of dark while his face softens even more, comfortable to be in your hands, comfortable to feel you massage his scalp in your unique way. his goofy smile invites you in, makes you lean in for another few kisses, all while pressing your thighs against his hips, sitting atop him like he's your throne.
“mornin’,” his voice is raspy, scratching along your lips before you nip at his bottom lip and sit up, letting the duvet slide down your back, “slept okay?” one of his eyes remains closed as he takes in the shape of your body sitting on him in your half-naked glory, only with a slight bit of material covering you up from his wandering eyes.
seeing him so spread out under you, lodged in between your soft thighs with a blissed out smile on his sleepy face, makes you all warm inside. the fuzzy feeling spreads from your belly through your entire body, almost making you tingle with excitement. it’s all for him. the early mornings when you set your alarm a little earlier so you can snuggle into him before having to scramble out of bed and get to work. the late nights when you’re tired and everything aches, but there’s no better way to unwind than getting out of a steaming hot shower and lounge on the couch with him, wearing your matching frog pyjamas that bring a wide grin to your face every time.
the lunch breaks when you walk into the farmhouse to see him timing his own breaks so you could eat together and drink another cup of coffee before he sees you off back to work with a sweet, coffee flavored kiss to your pouty lips. and best of all, seeing that mermaid pendant dangle around his neck whenever he’d take of his shirt, be it before bed or in the middle of the day, be it for a quickie or a long session of honeyed moans and air thick with desire. it reminds you of the connection you share, of the vows you said to each other in front of the whole town and then to each other, in the peaceful intimacy of your home.
now, in one of those early hours of the morning, as both of you are just waking up, his hands slide up your skin, feeling you under his warm palms. his fingers slide under the elastic of your panties every now and then, teasing, but trying to feel every part of you. in gentle movements, you roll your hips, feeling him harden under you, feeling the warmth in his body spread and seeing it paint his cheeks pink.
“morning. i woke up 'round one, but fell back to sleep soon.” you murmur the reply, gathering your hands on his abdomen, touching him lightly despite balancing yourself on him as your hips move again. slowly, languidly, dragging out a little groan from his pink lips. “got much planned today?” as you speak, your voice clears up slightly, the early morning rasp is almost completely gone, replaced by breathlessness that wasn’t there before you started rolling your hips against his erection.
“i–” he inhales sharply, moving his hands to grip your hips tighter and moving you slightly harder against his clothed cock, aiming to get more friction, “i have one client to deal with today,” he licks his lips slightly, audibly exhaling as your hands travel up his torso, thumbs brushing over his nipples, “and then finishing the first part of the game, i–” another gasp, another exhale as your thumbs repeat the movement, “i think it’s on track to be done by the end of the year.”
your smile widens with pride, your dear husband’s project, the one he’s been so happy about starting now that he doesn’t have to fill his every waking hour with clients and work, now that he has free time to sink into his passion… it's going well. he’s been showing you the progress, making you well up with pride and just feeling like you have to reward him by getting on your knees between his thighs to show him just how happy you are for him.
he subtly lifts his hips to grind up against you, almost getting impatient while you so lazily move against him, observing the light spilling through the window and dancing on his bare skin. it’s golden. golden like the honey his moans are laced with. like the promises he delivers onto your lips with his kisses. like the future ahead of you.
brushing your thumbs over his nipples again and feeling the cold metal bars going through them, you admire the noise that escapes his lips. his cheeks are heating up, you note, changing into a more intense blush as his body eagerly expects another touch from your fingers. but you’re kind, so instead of giving him a gentle touch from your thumb, you lower your head and lick one nipple, right before closing your lips around it. it’s a sloppy attempt, there’s drool in the corners of your lips already, but the noises that come out of his mouth keep you going. they rise in pitch once you graze your teeth on his sensitive flesh, sucking in the saliva and vibrating his nipple in the process.
the other one is getting pinched by your gentle fingers, all the while his hands wander your body, impatient, trying to touch everything at once, trying to bring you closer to him. his hips buck upwards, rubbing himself on you while his hands dip around the curve of your ass, gripping, grabbing, kneading. pulling your panties to the side, freeing your pussy from the fabric that already collected your wetness. he grinds you harder against him when you switch sides, sucking the nipple you were rolling in between your fingers until a moment ago.
“mmmph, keep going…” he moans out, encouraging you to move your hips once again, this time allowing him to reach under you and slide his boxers off, gasping once your skin makes contact with his, when the warmth of his leaking cock presses against the heat of your pussy. the grind slows down, he drags you along the length of his shaft as your folds part to glide along as you moan into him. you fit together perfectly, his body under yours as your soft breasts press against his torso. sweet, syrupy moans reverberate through his body as his cock head rubs against your clit, over and over, again and fucking again as his hands now desperately tug you closer, needing you more with each breath he squeezes through his parted lips.
it's a familiar set of movements, his hands guiding your hips to get the friction on his cock, your knees digging into the mattress while his throat vibrates with the ragged breaths that rip from it. you can feel his hips buck up slightly again, seeking more, seeking the comfort of your warm cunt around him, needing your soft, perfect walls to squeeze him like only they can, to take him to heaven and back, though he always swears this bed is his heaven, and you're the deity allowing him entrance.
“baby…” he pleads, hips stuttering as your slippery folds provide just the right amount of friction, but he wants in. he wants to be buried in his rightful place, wants to be fully yours this morning as you flick your tongue against the cold metal of the slender bar in his nipple. “take it, please.” there's a slight pitch change in his voice, a plea that raises the tone only slightly, but enough for you to notice. almost like a call to you, his begging for your cunt to take away his ache, the strain in his body, you cannot help but smile, lifting your head to look at his soft face.
“mhm…” you hum, leaning in for another taste of his lips as you move your hips to try and align yourself with him. he nearly curses feeling your warmth about to engulf him, nearly bucks his hips up again to bury his needy cock into you like he always wants to do. his soft groan slips from his lips into yours, and you’re always hungry for them, always take and pull more of them as you reach back to slide his girth inside of you and slide your hips back slightly, making sure he’s snug inside you while both of you exhale in relief.
you take a moment, two, a few more. it feels good, he feels good. you feel full. lifting yourself up, you have a better view of his pale body, freckled with a few rays of sun prodding through the lace curtain pulled over the window. it's a perfect thing, letting in just enough light to make your lovely husband look like an angel with a halo of black hair over the light pillowcase.
his hands bunch up the pyjama top over your hips, rustling the soft material under his soft palms to uncover your smooth skin, feeling the squishy skin of your hips as they lift up, causing his face to fold into a sweet grimace of pleasure, and then come back down slowly. he exhales, you smile. repeating the action a few times, you get into a familiar, slow, languid pace. slow like a weekend morning when the rain is pattering on the windows. slow like those nights when neither of you can sleep so you find solace in each other. slow… familiar like every vein on his cock that almost leaves an imprint of itself inside you.
the only sounds in this quiet morning comes from the bed. the sweet, quiet pants, the movements against the mattress… cold sheets rustling under your knees while you shift your weight on his lap. gentle whispers slipping from his lips, bitten and licked, glossy from saliva as they reflect the loving praises. so good, so warm, baby. and each time the backs of your thighs meet his warm skin, helped through the movements by his hands, you stifle a moan, for you want to hear his sugary words instead. he knows you're holding back, knows you're keeping his favorite melodies inside your mouth and he frowns a little. as much as he can while your warmth pulls him in and drags him along the softness of your walls. that little displeased huff leaves his lips, telling you he wants to hear you.
"baby… please baby give them to me…" he moans out the last part, gripping your hips more tightly as you release the lip you've been tugging with your teeth.
"hm, give you what?" you know what he means, but it's so sweet when he rolls his eyes while trying not to give you the satisfaction of seeing him completely blissed out until you give him what he wants. and so he does, one of his hands lands a small smack on the side of your hip while you roll them, slowly, lazily almost. "tell me what you mean."
"yo- oh fuck," he tugs on his bottom lip, pulling it as his eyes close when his tip presses against your sweet spot, making you clench around him, "your moans, need t' hear them…" he swallows thickly, parting his lips again to groan as you continue that torturous, but at the same time perfect pace. your throat vibrates with a soft chuckle that escapes it, but you have mercy on him. releasing your lip from the tug of your teeth, the air fills with your gentle sighs and moans, intertwining with his desperate groans in a sensual dance.
touch me… touch me more, your hands meet his, moving them from your hips to interlock your fingers together. oh how he loves it when you do that. it's a good way to keep yourself steady while you ride him, but it also makes sex so much more intimate. it doesn't matter if his cock is reaching the deepest parts of you, or if your thighs are squeezing his sides, or if he watches you move as your soft cunt takes him in over and over again… interlocking fingers, holding your scratched up hands that work hard to keep you both comfortable — it unlocks something different in him. he opens his eyes, keeping the gaze on your fingers, the slightly scratched skin that fits so perfectly against his knuckles.
he feels the skin of the back of your hand under his fingertips, those long fingers are much longer than yours and bear the indents of bass strings, they usually tap away on his computer, or on random surfaces when he has a melody stuck in his head. he replicates those melodies on his keyboard and on your skin after thoroughly tiring you out in those late nights when you need a distraction from work. he watches you breathe heavily, lying on your front while your smooth back is right there, exposed under his gaze, body rising and falling with every breath you attempt and he trails your spine, tapping against it with those long fingers, making your exhausted lips tug into a smile before you hum something similar to what he's playing on your body, his favorite instrument.
this is no different, hypnotizing for his morning thoughts as your thumb brushes circles into his hand. so perfect for me… with great difficulty, his eyes tear away from your hands and land on your face, smiling down at him so gently, so sweetly, that he falls in love all over again. each time you sit on him like this, each time your hips move in a slow pace, taking the time to feel his every vein and ridge drag along your warm pussy, he falls deeper. and you? your view is utter perfection, the wide-eyed look he gives you, the sparkle in his dark eyes, the lashes that sweep the tops of his cheeks with those slow blinks… he's in heaven, a human-made heaven that starts with your breath and ends with an unexplored eternity.
you whisper his name, a quiet plea as your thighs start shaking, twitching from the constant ups and downs of you sinking down on his cock, of your walls hugging him tight. my sweet wife, my sweet girl, your bottom lip is chewed up from those desperate attempts to keep quiet and listen to his sugary groans, the praises his throat sings to you in the deep silence of the morning. but with the breaths you exhaled, with the noises slipping from between your lips, the pace of your hips speeds up ever so slightly. he feels it. oh he feels it as you dig your fingers into the backs of his hands a little harder to keep yourself up, to keep yourself sane as his thickness spreads your folds and disappears into you repeatedly.
the plump flesh of your ass meets his hips in a symphony, backed by both your noises, the higher pitch of your moans and strings of praises from his lips. baby… baby that's it, you can close your eyes to focus, but they won't stay that way for long, you crave the view of him so laid out under you, the mermaid pendant that slid up to his jaw a reminder that you vowed to stick by each other's side no matter the weather. its twin dances under the oversized t-shirt that serves as your pyjama top, one that used to be his, one that you claimed for yourself before you even got married, to still feel his presence when he's not staying over for the night, a relic from a previous life.
so good to me, his voice is a warm hug, a comfortable blanket that wraps you into him when the air grows cold. a-ahhh that's it, my sweet girl, you feel him twitch inside you, despite the languid movements that contrast those needy, desperate, sweaty nights when he likes looking at the way your eyes widen with every thrust of his hips against yours, when he stuffs his fingers into your mouth to keep it busy while he tugs on your hair. this is different, this is worship. the sun changes angles, and the sun catchers shift in the slight breeze blowing through the window, making your body shine in dozens of shades of rainbow, dotted all over your chest and neck.
he hates every movement of his long fingers, but it has to be done. the hem of your t-shirt suddenly scrunched up by his hands, tugged up to release one of his favorite sights in the world. every single time he sees them, there's a breath that can't leave his throat, making his entire world stop for a moment while his brain hard-resets. just like now. he stops mid-sentence, pretty, pretty gir- the sweet praise cut in half as his eyes follow the gentle sway of your breasts as the thin fabric no longer covers them. lifting your arms above your head, letting him pull the t-shirt off in one swoop, you watch him struggle to look away. immediately, as soon as the material makes contact with the floor, carelessly discarded, his hands settle on the pliant flesh of your boobs.
a gentle squeeze, it's enough to bring life back into his tongue, once again in movement and shaping air into the most beautiful poems for you. love every part of you, love you so much, you're so— your own hands make way to hold onto his abdomen, the soft skin where your fingers brush through the dark patch of hairs leading from his navel down to where his curled hairs framed the girthy base of his cock, now decorated with the wetness from your warm cunt. his chest rises and falls a little harder now, his breaths rise in pitch, his moans and groans more frequently disrupting the flow of those syrupy words that he peppers the air with, and you see his lip trembling slightly.
"baby…" you drawl, keeping your hips lifting and descending despite the ache in the muscles, "i'm close… can i?" you leave the last part of that question hang in the air, tilting your head to the side slightly.
he can't deny you, even if he tried. breathless, he nods, huffing as he tries to continue the praises, continue the vows he makes to you with every roll of your hips and every grip of your warm cunt around his greedy cock. and it's greedy as hell, wanting to be snug inside you and never leave, wanting to make you squeeze it with your walls as you take his every drop of cum to free him of the intense need, of the ache he feels whenever he doesn't have you stuffed full of him. he can never get tired of you, sitting so pretty on him as your pretty tits bounce and sway with your slow movements, as your cheeks flush with the heat that spreads throughout your body, the heat matching his own. he helps you, now taking the burden onto himself as well as he lifts his hips off the bed and pushes up into you, making you whine and whimper as he groans, huffs, praises. i've got you, go on baby…
the tremor in your thighs is inescapable, you lean forward and press your body against his. his warm hands travel around to your back, appreciating the familiar shape of your body as they travel down to your ass that just begs to be grabbed. so he does exactly that, spreading his long fingers, pressing them into the willing skin, gripping, grabbing, holding, as he takes over the pace for you, keeping it consistent as you bury your face into his neck. little whimpers. whimpers dying against his skin, whimpers swooping into his ear as your body sings along with him.
lifting his hips up into you, holding and pulling you against his cock, burying himself into you until there's nothing left to give, telling you what a good job you're doing… time almost stands still for you, allowing you to steal moment after moment from the world around you, wrapped into each other and feeling the tender love in his honeyed moans. feel so good, my love, feel so perfect—
unable to take any more, feeling like you're ascending from the mortal plane, you shiver and curl your toes, grazing them against the sides of his thighs. the inside of your warm, soft cunt tightens in an attempt to keep him in as you finish, breathing out into the side of his neck with a pretty little whine of his name. it makes his eyes roll back into his skull, the whine that you let out into his skin sends him over the edge with you, makes him break apart under you as his hands slow down, bringing you down onto him gently as his cock twitches and spills his release inside your warmth, where it deserves to be.
lying together so spent, breathing in unison, gliding hands over each other, you wish it could be that easy, that you could spend the rest of your day, week, life in his arms, leaking his cum as he holds you close. gentle kisses from your lips pepper his sensitive neck, lazily trailing up to his jaw and then straight onto his lips. he lets go, fully submerging himself into this warm embrace of your mouths moving together. once you're ready to pull away, he chases your lips, pecking them once more before he can open his eyes and flash you a grin.
"you feeling good?" his raspy voice is now more awake, but the scratchy undertone remains, this time from the groans in his throat.
"better than good, better than perfect." you gather everything in you that makes you move, and lift your hips one more time, letting his softened dick slip out of you as you rise from him with one more quick peck on his lips.
he huffs in protest, but the view of your ass steadies him, shuts up his complaints as you lift the t-shirt previously discarded off the floor and pull it back on. with one more glance at his spread out body on the crumpled sheets of your bed, you smile, melting him all over again.
"coffee?" you cheerfully offer, turning on your heel and slowly walking out of the bedroom towards the kitchen, leaving him to smile at the view of your hips swaying as you walk, ass cheeks poking out from under the t-shirt. the view makes his heart race again, waking him up by the second. ah. it looks like he's needed in the kitchen, so he wastes no time, scrambles out of bed, and follows your footsteps to try and instigate yet another distraction, this time against the counter.
⋆˙⟡ burekforsatoru || do not modify, repost, or feed to AI
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caleb (love and deepspace)/reader | 1.6k | read on ao3 | first kisses, kissing practice, no use of y/n
𓇼 ⋆.˚ masterlist < moved to the new blog
everyone else has already had their first kiss…
all your classmates bragged about it on the first day of school, throwing around their newfound experiences from over the summer, while you sat there and listened, eyes wide as their lips moved excitedly to describe the fireworks that had set off in their stomachs as soon as their lips connected with their first ever partner. you walked home that day a little quiet while caleb talked, steering you in the right direction when you veered off-course. once he made sure your things were all ready for the next day and dinner was done, he finally sits down across from you at the table and takes the phone out of your hands.
"alright, pipsqueak, you've been quiet all day…" he tilts his head at you. "what's going on in this little noggin?"
you huff as he locks the screen of the phone and puts it face down on the table before resting his hands on the white cloth covering it. his purple gaze is almost too much as it digs into you. you're pretty sure if you just let him stare at you for an hour, he'd be able to read exactly what's bothering you without you uttering a single word. he's always been good like that. but you don't want to be prodded by his eyes for so long this time, instead you rub your eyes and sigh.
"i'm falling behind." you confess, wondering how to phrase your problem without sounding so damn childish.
"it's only the first day, pips, there's nothing you can't catch up on quickly."
"i mean…" you look away for a moment, feeling embarrassed at even needing to say it, but caleb wouldn't judge you. not now, not ever, and it's not even a fear in the back of your mind, but your own judgement that if you say it out loud it becomes real. something to fear or point and laugh at or skirt and avoid forever. "all of my friends had their first kiss over the summer. and they all loved it, and i'm the only one left and i feel like a child."
he reaches over the table and holds you by your wrists, gently rubbing circles on your cool skin. caleb waits for you to say something else, but when you don't, he takes a deep breath.
"there's no shame in getting to experience things later than others. you aren't late for anything, just go at your own pace." his gaze is soft, lips stretched into a half smile meaning to reassure you, but the feeling doesn't relent. you're still small in your own insecurity, wrapped in it like in a straightjacket that can't get any tighter.
"it feels like i'm…" you don't want to say it, not when he's doing his best to make you feel like you're enough every day, "inadequate. like they've got the upper hand in everything and it just keeps going. first it's a stable home life, then it's first kisses, then it's going to be a successful career—"
"pipsqueak." he cuts you off before you can spiral any more, getting up and pulling you by your wrist to the couch. once you're seated on the soft cushion, he pulls you in for a good, warm cuddle against his chest. comfortable, immune from the outside world, wrapped in the bubble that ends where his arms end, you breathe him in and close your eyes. "it doesn't determine your worth. you're so much more than the experiences of those snotty babies you call classmates." you can't help but snort in laughter at that, and his lips tug into a smile as he hears you. "and besides, i'll bet all my savings that most of them didn't even like their first kiss. they just won't admit it out loud."
your head lifts up slightly, catching his eyes as he gently caresses the back of your head.
"how do you know that?"
"nobody knows how to kiss on the first try, it's just logic. they were probably messy and wet, but that doesn't make them sound very cool, does it?" he winks. "bet you're gonna have a better one than they did, and you won't even have to lie about it."
you clear your throat, afraid you'll get caught staring at the way his lips are moving as he forms those words. sighing, your legs pulled up under you on the couch, you lean into him to get closer, already feeling a little better than you did before. so caring, caleb rubs your back now, feeling your heart beat against his chest like his favourite melody. he can feel your body relax further into him, and he knows he's doing well with you.
"i just don't wanna wonder what it's gonna be like, what if i mess it up?"
your worried tone is adorable, you can see the twinkle in his eyes as he looks down at you, a quirk on the corner of his lips like he's deep in thought.
"you won't. you're a clever girl, pipsqueak, good at everything you do."
"except for math."
he laughs and ruffles your hair, dealing with your groan the only way he ever does, by messing your hair up further.
"yeah," he chuckles, "except for math. but you have me for it. good old caleb with his big, beautiful, wrinkly brain that knows how to explain anything to this clever pipsqueak."
you narrow your eyes as his hands continue rubbing your back again. it's true, he's been the one to tutor you whenever you've had an exam coming up ever since you started school. like having a couple of years of advantage made him wiser and capable of taking care of himself and you, and never once complain about it. never once make you feel like you're a burden.
"caleb is so smart," you begin, knowing it warms his heart when you praise him like this, "and the best at explaining things. i bet he could also teach me how to kiss if he tried."
caleb's hand pauses on your back, taken by surprise, but soon he collects himself and chuckles softly. his thumb gently lifts your chin up to face him, despite your unwillingness to do it right after uttering that idea out loud.
"pips…" he sighs, "you shouldn't rush this just because you wanna get it over and done with, y'know?" he doesn't let go of your chin, instead letting you stabilise the eye contact before opening your mouth to speak, voice soft as a breeze through his hair.
"but i wanna know what it's like."
he keeps your gaze for a while longer, almost like searching for a sprinkle of doubt in your irises, but coming up short. it's like the breath between you is suspended in time, a moment stretching forever like a thread of silk glistening in the sun like his eyes glisten as they're unable to look away. your face is so precious, full of hope and anticipation, and he looks like he could almost feel bad taking it into his hands to be your teacher, but you've got that adamant spark of want in your look, something so unique to you that he always calls out when you look at him with it. something that's almost guaranteed to get you into trouble.
but now the only trouble is messing up a simple movement.
he leans in slowly, lips slightly parted, and when they nearly touch yours he whispers into the space between you.
"just do what feels natural, okay? don't think. just do."
and with that, his lips press against yours. they're warm, soft, they taste of the words he just spoke, a promise and a soft guidance, sweet between your tongue and teeth. you respond in a way almost natural, pressing against them gently, letting him take the lead. if you feel lightheaded, it has to be natural. feeling the scent of his skin with your nose against his cheek makes you want more, so you reach up and cup his cheek with one hand, gentle as your thumb brushes his cheekbone. you pull away to breathe, having forgotten how to while you kissed him. you kissed him. and he kissed you.
"you said…" you begin once you find the words, "that the first kiss is always bad. you lied."
he laughs briefly, like you caught him off guard with that silly accusation. while he may not have said those exact words, you're usually good at catching him at his half-truths, calling him out on them whenever you can.
"well… it is, unless it's with me." his forehead rests against yours, and it's warmer than before. his heart beats faster, and yours is catching up with the rhythm. "and every kiss after that can only get better."
you look up at him, swallowing as his gaze pierces through you. "can i… test that? what if you're lying about that as well?"
caleb pulls you closer by your hips, settling you on his lap while gently caressing your sides.
"go ahead, detective pipsqueak. test me all you want."
he's got that smirk on his face again, the one that says he's giving in to your demands while secretly benefiting from them too. the smirk you usually see just before he takes your hand and runs through the crowd of a festival to go grab you that last plushie you wanted or to hide from the rain together at the old bus stop by your house. you lean in again, and this time you know what to do… sort of. still, he's a fairly good teacher, and you've always been a quick learner. except for math.
⋆˙⟡ burekforsatoru || do not modify, repost, or feed to AI
♡ if you enjoyed this, consider leaving a like, reblog, or a comment. interaction helps keep your writers motivated!
dividers by: @omi-resources @saradika-graphics
ordering another boba tea from @pixelcafe-network
sebastian (stardew valley)/f!reader | read it on ao3
from a young age, you had a distinct presence in sebastian's life. throughout your childhood, your awkward years, your adulthood… you were always there. always with him, only in different forms.
wc: 3k
tags: grief/mourning, implied/referenced death, very mild sexual content, pregnancy, fluff, more fluff, more fluff, no use of y/n
𓇼 ⋆.˚ masterlist < moved to the new blog
you were five years old when you stole sebastian’s ice cream. he was so close to crying, his bottom lip already quivering and eyes filled with fat tears, but you were quick. swiftly sticking the chocolate scoop into his face, shocking him into silence, you managed to keep the peace. he took turns licking the sweet treat with you, trying to race your tongue to get more ice cream into his belly.
robin looked at the two of you from her window, smiling as she witnessed her son finally making a friend. she’d seen you around, always dragging your grandparents around by their sleeves, trying to see everything pelican town had to offer. she knew then that you’d be good for her sebby, that you wouldn’t let him hide behind her again. and she was right, of course.
you dragged him along to play in the sand, to swim when the waves ruined your sandcastles, to pick up cool shells and sea urchins drying by the tide pools. he enjoyed it, despite the slight frown on his face, but even that disappeared when he saw you grin as your small hand held a purple stone, shiny and polished from the relentless water, just for him.
you were nine years old when you stole sebastian’s comic book. he finally got his own room, after two years of pleading with his mother to let him be in the basement, after months of renovations to make it livable, after weeks of calling your grandparents’ landline almost bouncing on the balls of his feet. you walked in, completely awe-struck. it was so cool. it was almost like being an adult, just a step away, right? having your own room so separate from your parents, it practically meant he was his own person to nine year old you.
and that was insanely awesome. you wanted to spend every free moment in there, but your grandma wouldn’t let you. instead, you were allowed lazy weekends on his floor, lying on your backs reading books or hanging upside-down from his bed and talking nonsense until you got called for lunch. after the meal, you’d return almost immediately, jumping into the comic book you were reading while sebastian tried to figure out if anything was different with you.
robin had explained to him that you were slowly starting to feel the loss of your parents, you were coming up to the age when all your friends had parents to teach them about life. she’d warned him not to ask you much about them, not to make you feel uncomfortable or sad. robin didn’t want him to hurt you.
so he took it seriously, he observed you to see if you got sad, and every time your lips lowered from a smile, he made it his mission to make you laugh again. he pretended to chase you around his room, squealing and giggling as you held his comic book high above your head, thinking you had the upper hand when the boy only wanted to keep you laughing.
you were eleven years old when you stole sebastian’s breath. spending almost every day together, there was no way you wouldn’t discover music together. sebastian got his first phone, and with the old computer that sat on his big, sturdy desk, you browsed the internet and downloaded all sorts of songs to listen to later through his wired earphones. you’d spend evenings just lying in the grass, listening to the whiny boys sing about heartbreak as you pretended it related to you.
oh the pain of being eleven was almost unbearable. but you had the sun setting behind the mountains and the moon casting its silvery light on your faces as you watched shooting stars in the summer. you had the sound of cicadas in the trees and the gentle hum of water. you had each other.
you experimented with your appearances then, taking a black eye pencil you begged your grandma to buy you in zuzu city and trying to imitate the guy you saw on sebastian’s computer. it was worth getting poked in the eye, for that month both of you mastered the art of smudged black eyeliner, strutting around the town with your newfound style. sebastian felt his cheeks warm up whenever you’d swoop your fringe to the side, felt his breath hitch when he saw you put on those black and purple fingerless gloves and adjust the studded belt on your jeans before fixing his hair.
you were fifteen when you stole sebastian’s first kiss. you’d just started going to the saloon the previous year, pretending to be adults with your extended curfew and your first bra. it was a big deal in your house, grandma felt like weeping every time she saw you discard another bloodied pad into the trash. her baby girl’s baby girl, all grown up now. she missed your mom in what had become a constant underlying sadness, pushed down for your sake. but these were the moments she should’ve been here to witness. your first time riding a bike with no training wheels, your first tooth falling out, your first period, first bra, first spot on your forehead that almost hurt when you tried pushing it back where it came from. grandpa baked a cake for every single one of those occasions, throwing himself into the kitchen to avoid facing his own grief.
and sebastian? he kept the habit of observing you whenever you were together. he noticed when your brow would furrow for no apparent reason and poked your cheek occasionally, getting you to talk about music and movies, making plans for your birthday parties and talking shit about all the homework you had to do that week. and it worked. every time it put the spark back into your eyes, making him sigh in relief.
your fridays were still spent at the saloon with sam and abby, the four of you weirdos learned how to mess around with the pool table, making up your own rules and causing poor gus to shake his head every time one of you ended up climbing on the edge of the damn thing. it was finally summer, which meant a longer curfew, which meant grandma and grandpa didn’t tell you off when you’d stumble inside the farmhouse way too late for fear of not getting enough sleep on a school night. which meant… the nights were yours. at fifteen, you owned the whole world, you and your friends against the universe.
sebastian had taken up smoking, sneaking a cigarette or two a day to stay on demetrius’ bad side. it almost invigorated him, the fact that he was doing something forbidden. and his exhilaration made your heart beat faster. he walked you to the gates of the farm, stubbing out his last cigarette of the week before bidding you goodbye like always, but one thing made it different. you reached down to hold his hand, hooking your pinky finger around his, and pulled him closer.
it took exactly one moment for him to decide it was a good idea, lean in, and accept your kiss. you closed your eyes first, blindly pressing your lips to his. they were sticky from the sugar in your drinks, sweet, and soft as you clumsily kissed. the blush that spread over both your faces was a pretty red color, matching that of your new earrings you’d got as an early birthday gift from your grandparents. reluctantly, you let go of sebastian’s hand and pushed the gate open, disappearing into the farmhouse as he nearly started skipping on his way home.
you were eighteen when you stole sebastian’s virginity. it was a marathon session of solarion chronicles, sam and abby were all but falling asleep at the table in the center of sebastian’s room, the only reason why they lasted that long was to not disappoint the birthday boy. he loved exploring the storyline with his favorite people, snacking on all the shit sam could sneak out of joja’s warehouse without getting into trouble, drinking your grandma’s famous cider.
she’d pretended to be annoyed when you’d asked to ‘borrow’ a couple of bottles, but she had known you were responsible enough, and just trying to have some fun in the stretch of time you had before you. you were playing as a wizard that day, casting your last spell to defeat the boss alongside your friends, and the next thing you remember is lifting your head with a spell card stuck to your cheek. there was a blanket thrown over your shoulders, the lights were dimmed a little, and it was surprisingly quiet.
sam and abby had gone home, sebastian said, lifting his gaze from the comic book he had in his lap. you yawned, apologizing for falling asleep, but he waved away your apology, he always had. now that you were alone again, already having checked with your grandparents if it was okay to sleep over at sebastian’s, you could shuffle over to him where his back rested against the bed frame.
now that you were alone again, you could straddle his lap and get comfortable with your head against his chest, right before he lifted your chin and kissed you again, kept kissing you until your face got warmer than ever. now that you were alone again, he could wrap that blanket around both of you, pulling you closer against him as you deftly unbuttoned his jeans and yours, moving your hips against his. now, since you were alone again, you could let your voice show him how good it felt when you were entangled in every way, connected with your bodies and souls. and in the morning, after a couple more times of repeating almost the same routine, you woke up in his tight embrace, softly kissing his chest.
you were twenty when you stole sebastian’s heart. he’d thought about it before, but it was a terrifying thing, making a significant step forward. you’d shared everything until that point, so maybe his fears were unfounded, but ever since he was five years old and clutching to his mother’s jeans, he couldn’t stop thinking about the odd girl that came to live with her grandparents at the farm.
he couldn’t help but befriend her, though it might be more accurate to say let her befriend him or let her drag him by the hand to wherever she wanted to go. and he loved every day since. even when he’d been a grumpy teenager, even when he’d been overthinking his every choice in life, even when it had fallen upon him to make sure you were okay and didn’t feel ‘inadequate’ for not having a mom to teach you things, when you’d confided in him about a crush or two, when he’d vented to you about his family. you were there for him, had been ever since that day. he’d even forgiven you for that ice cream.
by his twentieth birthday he was more certain in you than anything in his entire life. he’d stopped romanticizing the big city long ago, now only indulging in an occasional trip there with you behind him, wrapping your arms tightly around his waist as he sped along the highway to the viewpoint where he’d put down the picnic blanket and enjoyed the stars with you.
and you? you were sure he would stay in your life until the end, the question was whether he wanted the same as you. you’d dreamed about waking together every day, about dancing in the kitchen to the songs on the radio, about raising little void chickens together and riding horses around your grandparents’ farm. you’d even planted a coffee plant together in the greenhouse, jokingly naming it your ‘baby’.
everyone in town saw you for what you were, idiots in love, but nobody was stupid enough to push you into something you weren’t ready for. that night, just before the dance of the moonlight jellies, sebastian hid the bouquet behind his back as you walked over to where he waited for you. he was finally sure, finally ready to grab you and never let you go again. so when he asked, when he extended the hand holding the colorful bouquet, when you screamed in excitement, sebastian could hear his heartbeat echo in his skull.
you jumped into his arms, witnesses be damned, and kissed him deeper than ever before. that night, you watched the moonlight jellies while holding hands, you sat on the edge of the dock and leaned against each other, finally feeling like every piece of the puzzle fit exactly right.
you were twenty-four when you stole sebastian’s last name. your grandma was a crying mess. she fussed over the way your veil trailed down your back, tried keeping herself busy so she wouldn’t fall into a pit of sadness again, not on your wedding day. sebastian waited at the altar, the widest grin you’d ever seen plastered on his face. he kissed your cheek when you finally reached him, keeping it chaste for everyone gathered to celebrate your love. the vows were a beautiful song of devotion. you did your best not to spill any tears, glancing over at your grandparents holding hands.
sebastian held you close, kissing you for the first time as your husband, taking you through the crowd shouting their congratulations with a gentle hand on your lower back. after the day of performing at being a human for others, you said your goodbye to grandma and grandpa, getting ready to join sebastian in your first ever apartment, away from parents of any kind. you inhaled grandpa’s scent, the herbs mixing with the natural scent of the farmhouse. you’d miss being around them so much, but it was a new chapter of your life, and they were fully behind you, cheering on your every decision.
your mother would be so proud of you, grandma said, i just know she’s looking down and smiling at you. with tears in your eyes, you kissed her working, calloused hands. she cried as you walked into the apartment, turning around to walk back to the farmhouse hand in hand with grandpa, small steps carrying them home. the next morning you danced in the kitchen, you woke up to the smell of coffee and sebastian’s smiling face as he handed you the mug.
you were already filling up the place with plants, starting with the coffee plant you’d planted with him in the greenhouse. now it was in a big terracotta pot in the sunniest corner of your living room. you kept stealing, this time not from sebastian but with him. you stole moments in the middle of busy work days, stole kisses when you’d bring him another cup of green tea while he was in online meetings with clients, stole happy giggles from his throat when you’d spend evenings curled up on the couch watching ridiculous movies you’d enjoyed as teens. you made the apartment truly yours.
you were twenty-seven when you stole a part of sebastian, but gave back something better. your belly got a little bigger with each passing week. sebastian’s lips tugged into a wide grin every time he’d catch a glimpse of your slightly awkward waddle through the apartment. it’d been a rough time, with both your grandparents being ill and you not being well enough to help out with the farm. luckily, the townspeople were ready to pick up shifts on the land, learning quickly what it meant to be a farmer. it was hard work, sometimes unforgiving, but the land gave back more than it took. much like you.
on a cold wednesday morning, sebastian rushed you to the clinic where a midwife had been called in, almost the entire day spent in pain and anticipation. your husband tried his best to keep you grounded, jumping to your every whim, doing everything he’d read about in the previous months.
that evening, you welcomed a baby girl into this world. she had your eyes, that much was clear. even as exhausted as you were, you could see the similarities between her and your grandma. all the features she’d always told you reminded her of your mother – reflected in your own child. the first stop on the way from the clinic was the farmhouse.
a few gentle knocks on the front door got the poorly old man excited like you couldn't remember seeing him. he wiped away tears as you handed him his great-grandchild, cooing at her while sebastian helped out around the house. grandma whispered old lullabies as the baby slept, sending your mind into a sea of nostalgia, reminiscing how you would hear those same melodies when you were little, only arriving at the farmhouse still wondering why your parents weren’t with you. you kissed your grandparents on the way out, ready to introduce your baby into her new home, not knowing the next time you walked into that farmhouse, it would be to make it your own.
you were in your thirties when you stole a small tooth from under your child’s pillow. it was an exciting affair, sebastian was all but giggling as he slid some money to replace the carefully placed tooth. the farm was thriving, now under your skilled hand and the help of a lot of dedicated people, it was a place that gave every day. it was the place that had raised you, let you run around the flower beds and fruit trees while hiding from your grandma when she had wanted to wipe your strawberry-stained face. now the cloth was in your hands. you chased your child around for who knows how long as sebastian was busy preparing dinner.
he laughed at the sight of you playing in the orchard, thanking the universe for allowing him this life. you shook your head in faux exasperation, lifting your head up at the sky, silently asking your grandparents to look down and see how you’re honoring their memory. by being you. by being happy.
⋆˙⟡ burekforsatoru || do not modify, repost, or feed to AI
♡ if you enjoyed this, consider leaving a like, reblog, or a comment. interaction helps keep your writers motivated!
sebastian (stardew valley)/reader | 1k | read on ao3 | fluff
sips tea in the warm @pixelcafe-network
⁺₊⋆masterlist < moved to the new blog
it's almost midnight by the time you finally check your watch.
the sun seemed to have set in record time, every hour since the mellow orange evening greeted you was passing by imperceptibly. the only colour you were focused on was the dark obsidian of sebastian's eyes every time you looked at him. now, sitting on the back steps of the stardrop saloon, you can't force yourself to leave.
knowing your grandparents will notice if you're late, but not caring; knowing that sebastian is also supposed to be on his way up the mountain path, but indulging in a bit more time with you; knowing that you'll pay for this in the morning when the damn alarm clock rings and you're still trying to shut your brain up enough to snooze at least a little bit… you continue as you were, stealing kisses in the flickering light of the street lamp.
sebastian's hand rests on your cheek, thumb making lazy little circles on the soft, warming skin, he pulls you in, again and again as you smile between the brief kisses, each as sweet as a bite of chocolate stolen straight from his lips. you're not ready to part yet, the chatter and traces of music spill from the saloon onto your steps through the cracks in the heavy wooden door, but your moment continues with no interruption or signs of ending soon. even knowing that time is precariously tipping over the edge of the curfew, the two of you don't pull away, instead indulging a little longer, a little harder, little by little, building the bubble around you that keeps you from the cold autumn air, soaked in the scent of blossoming fairy roses around the town square.
laughter spills from the propped open back door, underlined by music from that static-filled old jukebox, and it's almost too easy to just continue taking kisses from each other, to lean in and warm your lips together while the rest of the town dances and drinks. you're enough the way you are, knees touching as you sit angled, hands resting one atop the other, cradling together like they feel the first chill in the air as the season changes. his jacket hangs off your shoulders, warm as the skin of his hands in yours, shielding you from the breeze coming from the west. it's like a token you carry home with you every week, up until you reach the gates to the farm where you shrug the warm leather off your shoulders and hand it back, pulling him in for another kiss before you part for the night. now the sleeves hang off you, almost like a hug as sebastian kisses the corner of your lips one last time before getting up off the step and dusting off his jeans, outstretching a hand to you. and you always take it, pulling yourself up to start making your way back to the farm, to start the long, dragged out good bye as he twirls you along the path past the bus stop, as he picks you up despite your halfhearted protests and squealing while he spins with you in his arms, as you lean into his side again, feeling his arm tight around your shoulders and his lips warm on the top of your head.
you've reached the gate again.
the damn gate that you wish didn't exist, you wish didn't mean good night and i'll see you tomorrow and we'll kiss again soon and be safe and let me know when you're back and i love you and i love you and i love you and i love you. you wish again, like every week so far this summer that just turned the corner on the way out, that it could mean come in, be quiet, i love you, ouch that's my foot, careful in the dark, i love you, let me kiss you here, i love you, you're so pretty, i love you, i love you. but the light in the kitchen is on. so you sigh and caress his warm blushing cheek. you get up on your tiptoes once again to kiss him, and his arms wrap around your waist like a snake catching its meal, tight and warm and comfortable. the jacket changes hands, electrifying brushes of fingertips exchanged with the leather under your palm, and sebastian reaches into one of the pockets with a soft curse on his kiss-bitten lips. in his hand—a crumpled up fairy rose. in his eyes—a tender plea. on his lips—that familiar smile. in the air—a question. he's been saying he would get a job soon, as soon as school ends and he wouldn't have to think about maths again. he would get you a real bouquet then, he promised. something closer to what you deserve. until then, it's a purple fairy rose picked that morning while evelyn was looking away from the flower patch in the town square. until then, it will do. you nod enthusiastically, happy squeak on your lips as you throw yourself into his arms once more, inhaling the scent of his blushing skin where you plant another kiss, a seal on his neck, on his jaw, then finally on his lips.
you could drown in the taste of them if the universe let you, you could live suspended in the moment that you feel his breath on your face, smile tugging the corners of his lips and on the strings of your heart. a safe place in another person's chest, where you could crawl in and forever listen to the heartbeats against his ribs, lulling you to peaceful sleep. and this time when you pull away, your fingers stay entangled a little longer, the last to part as you open that creaking old gate and head up the pebble path leading to the farmhouse. the flower twirls between your fingers, scent almost hypnotic when you press your nose to the smooth petals. despite its wrinkled appearance, it's the most beautiful thing you've seen. a token you get to keep as long as it lives, a promise, a vibrant reminder that there is a future for you in pelican town, and it has a name. a name that you giddily whisper as you lie in bed, staring at the starry night outside your window, wishing for the dawn to hurry so you could see him again sooner.
⋆˙⟡ burekforsatoru || do not modify, repost, or feed to AI
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dividers by @/enchanthings @/strangergraphics
boyfriend baji sends you pictures of every random little thing he sees that reminds him of you. or of something you talked about at some point. or something he thinks you'd like. most of these reach your phone with zero context, just a photo of a cool looking hoodie which you assume he sent because it's your favourite colour. a photo of graffiti on the side of a building because of one word that's part of your inside joke with him. a video of a chubby cat because it's basking in the sun on a step in an alley. you know he stops specifically to take these for you, even with no context attached, and it's almost your favourite way of communicating with him. something so simple as a mutual understanding when no words are said, something so intimate as wordless affection, something so meaningful in truly seeing each other.
boyfriend baji loves being in the kitchen with you. either caging you in with his arms as he looks over your shoulder or having you sit on the counter while he takes care of the food. you're his favourite little helper after all. and when you do the cooking, he watches your hands move almost hypnotically, how you hold a knife, how you stir a pot, how you plop a tea bag into a cup and pour water in. how you take a spoonful of honey and mix it in before taking another to press against his lips, then kissing his sweetened mouth to taste him. baji swings violently between being a needy mess and a menace, so when he starts whispering into your ear it's most likely going to be something that earns him an elbow to the stomach.
boyfriend baji absentmindedly touches your legs if you shave them. he doesn't even realise he's doing it half the time, but your skin feels so good under his fingertips, soft and soothing, reminding him subconsciously of the way he does the same under the sheets in bed. he doesn't even notice you're sneaking the other leg into his lap as well, looking at him with a sort of a half-smile, knowing and understanding and so full of love for the clueless boy that keeps yapping with his friends until he catches a glimpse of you. with a slight furrow of his brow he turns to you and doesn't quite get why you're looking at him like that. it's usually reserved for when he brings you tea if you're not feeling well, walking so slowly because he learned his lesson after spilling the hot liquid on himself exactly once, or when he comes home and willingly sits still while you clean his bloodied knuckles. so why would you give him that look when he's just talking shit with the guys, he raises one eyebrow and mouths what are you looking at, nerd and you just shake your head, wondering how long it will take him to notice. you hope he doesn't.
boyfriend baji is so ready to pull over at any point during a roadtrip. you see a nice bench overlooking some nice fields? he's already pulling over to let you stretch your legs and take photos. there's some pretty flowers around? he's ready to get one stuck into his hair once you decide which one would best suit him. he lives for adventures, be it adrenaline-fueled fights or trips with you, be it hearing his fists connect with other people's jaws or the excited laugh as you finally see where he's taking you for the weekend. it's always special, even when it's just a picnic on the outskirts of the city, in some clearing around a lake somewhere, teeming with ducks and fish and pigeons that eat crumbs from the grass. so what if you doze off on the patterned blanket after having some sandwiches and drinks you prepared that morning? you're with him and nothing can ruin your moments, not the people playing catch in the distance, not the shouts of owners after their dogs, not the teenagers playing music on the speaker not far from you.
boyfriend baji bites. of course he does, but it's something comforting for him. holding your hand, he brings it up to his mouth and just presses his teeth into your knuckles. lightly. he doesn't mean to hurt, and you help just out of reflex, but he knows he's not doing it hard enough. usually it's a quick movement, a pull to get you closer, and he bites the side of your head or your cheek, very rarely does he manage to nip your neck in public, instead just going for a finger or ear. there's some gentle comfort in your willingness to let him put his teeth on you, to prove to himself and others that you're his and that you're not going anywhere. not without him.
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boyfriend nagi senses you get up in the middle of the night and asks you to bring him some cheese. you were only going to get some water, but somehow he knew that your destination is the kitchen, and so you pat his chest and pad along to the tiled floor to stand in front of the fridge. one glass full of water already downed, you refill it and bring it back to the bedroom along with a bag of grated cheese. you knew when you stood in front of the cheese section in the store a few days ago it would come to be useful even though you had no real plans for it. there's almost a smirk on your lips, a ghost of a smile too tired to fully manifest as you walk back slowly, careful not to spill or trip. he's sitting up when you reach the bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes when he sees you with the haul. nagi's eyes soften, he didn't know if you'd remember, being almost half asleep when he'd asked, but the smile that flicks over your face is enough to get him melted again. he doesn't reach out for the food, instead lets you settle back into bed and open the seal of the bag yourself. something tells him you won't be in the mood to take it back to the fridge, and neither will he, so it would be best to kill that entire bag between the two of you. he waits until you grab some and put it into your mouth, only then does he reach for some too, the taste made that much better by the company. sitting in silence, in the dead of night, just two cheese goblins sharing gazes, bits of food, and kisses.
boyfriend nagi likes to sit between your legs while he games. as long as you don't move around too much, he likes the gentle reminder that you're there, but also a soft place to lean his head on when he's waiting for the next screen to load. it usually doesn't help in one aspect, and that's the overwhelming need to just close his eyes and savour the softness of your skin, and it's happened before. he would fall asleep in record time, and wake up to the almost mocking game over on the screen. it never matters, though, because he can always redo the level, but the moments spent with you are irreplaceable.
boyfriend nagi puts his entire weight on you when you're lying on the couch miserable and in pain. the first time you asked him that, he thought he was imagining things, but a tug on his hand and a whiny little voice showed him how serious you were. a weighted blanket, that's what you called him that time. he rolled his eyes exactly once before he noticed the slight quirk of your lips upward. it felt good, it was clear from the groan you let out as your body sank deeper into the cushions. pain slowly becoming more manageable as his warmth spread through your limbs, along your torso, into your heart, across your cheeks. he's since learned not to question you when you ask him to lie on you, and instead just lets you have a few moments of comfort under his strong form, the least he could do when you're feeling your insides fall apart, leaving you alone only to go and make you some lemon tea, because if it helps him feel better, surely it will do the same for you.
boyfriend nagi watches you cook often. he doesn't often have the motivation to eat proper food, let alone prepare it himself, but something about the way you move in the kitchen fascinates him. one hand firm on the knife and the once whole pepper turns into thin ribbons. several things going on at the same time, water boiling, pan sizzling, the heap of vegetables getting bigger on the side after a quick treatment with your blade— all that accompanied by your humming along to the song on the radio. nagi leans against the door frame and just… observes. sometimes he wishes he could do it, too. to surprise you with something he's made just for you, but his mind always goes blank when your smile is directed at him, just like when you catch him looking. it's useless fighting it, so he gives in to the urge to push himself off the door frame and wraps his arms around your waist, standing behind you with the best view of the way you clean up the chopping board and toss the vegetables into the pan, mixing them together until they become the dinner he's been sniffing in the air. a tender kiss thank you, a snuggle it's delicious, and the rest of the night spent sprawled out on the couch while playing a cosy game together i love you. that's how nagi thinks he might see the point of cooking.
boyfriend nagi likes poking your cheeks. at first it may have been accidental, or purely an impulsive move on his part, but ever since the first time you looked at him bewildered at his action, he hasn't spent a day with you without doing it at least once. he hasn't thought about it much, really, because it's a simple thing — his girlfriend, your sweet warm cheek, a giggle directed at him. all of the things he likes together. you don't even know why it brings him so much joy and why he tends to sit there fascinated by the bounciness of your cheek once he removes his finger, you're just happy to see him so enthralled. you don't even know it's because you smile every time. and even when he doesn't know what to say or how to act, the easiest way to get you to curl the corners of your lips and smile at him is to poke you. and a lot of the times that's enough for him.
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