#5 x 6 living room rugs
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We at Global Floor Furnishers in India, make Custom natural rugs that are perfect for a living dining room area as per your demand.
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And they were roommates
(Captain John price x F!reader)
Summary: the captain wants somewhere more homely to settle down and when an offer like yours comes alight on Zillow he must take up on it.
Warnings: angsty (minimal), john being slightly troubled, alcohol, reader being slightly embarrassing.
part 1 - part 2 - part 3 - part 4 - part 5!! -part 6
âââââ-
You wake up to the sun softly beaming in your room. Limbs stretching beyond the covers. You look around a little confused as to when you got back in your bedroom. Then it all came together. John, John leaves today.
You get out of the covers leaving your bedroom hoping heâs still there but of course to your disappointment heâs gone. You head to the kitchen knowing at least there will be a note.Â
Good morning doll, I thought of waking you but decided against it, though I might regret it. The movie was good, you seemed to really be enjoying it also:) Here's the phone number of a friend in case any problems arise. Next time Iâm back I hope to see another painting - JohnÂ
(xxx-xxx-xxxx) - nick
You stare at it trying not to let your emotions get the best of you. So you fold it and put it in the kitchen drawer. Although John was an awfully quiet roommate you could feel the weight of his absence. The cold floor beneath your feet has grown warm for how long youâve stood there. You make your way towards the front door deciding that an iced coffee and a long drive with music will rid you of this feeling you canât decipher it feels like want but in a way itâs also need but what is it you want and need? Not even you could answer that question.
Long story short you think it made the feeling intensify.
ââââ-
1 month in
Youâve booked your schedule full leaving not an ounce of time for yourself. From the morning till night you had clients which were good for money but really it was a distraction for your mind. That same feeling felt like it was running into new veins every day seemingly consuming you.Â
You tried to start a new painting but something was off about the color scheme and it was a waste not only of time but material and energy. You wonder how John is.
ââââ-
2 months in
No problems have arisen since heâs been gone. It's like the house knows youâll call the expensive plumber instead of Johnâs friend.Â
However you have started a painting you are beginning to like. Itâs a mix of hues youâve never used before blues and oranges, a flame. You donât know where or why the idea came to you but itâs what you wanted so you started it. A single candle is the outline, and the surrounding of it is the orange yellowish aura of a flame. You tried making ratatouille the other day and although it was good you wished it was made out of pepperonis like your childhood mind had imagined. You forgot there was no longer anyone to finish left overs so you ate it for three days straight.
Also you bought a new rug.
ââââ-
3 months in
Youâve begun putting the final laminate on the painting. Itâs taken you far longer than it wouldâve if you hadnât accepted 15 new clients. Not that you mind anyways.Â
Youâre also a little ambivalent to the idea of John paying for 6 months of rent when he doesnât even live here during it.Â
Besides that life seems stagnant and youâve begun to lock your bedroom door at night again.Â
ââââ
4 months in
The painting now hangs a foot away from where the other one in front of Johnâs door does. Itâs a beautiful contrast and really you were overjoyed at the outcome. You also randomly decided itâd be a good idea one night after too much wine to order new furniture for the outside deck. When it arrived you were one in disbelief of all the building pieces and and two excited to have something more to do.Â
You should've stayed up the night John left.
ââââ
5 months in Â
Redecorating the deck wasnât enough change. You needed a makeover physically but couldnât decide how. Maybe a tattoo? No. New makeup? No. How about a haircut? Fuck it, yes.Â
So you did just that, you got a few almost unnoticeable highlights and chopped a good amount off. After the fact you were obsessed. Was it impulsive and could it have gone so horribly wrong, yes. But did it? No.Â
âââ
6 months inÂ
Johnâs still not back and itâs all you could think about. What if something happened to him? What if he wasnât coming back? You worried yourself sick so much so you physically became sick.Â
You waited week by week for anything, maybe heâs back on base but just hasnât come back home yet. But something was telling you it was more than that.Â
âââ-
7 months inÂ
At this point worrying wasnât going to make him appear. Your hobbies have now turned into distractions. So tonight you sit in the living room with a glass of wine and watch another rom com. Youâre as comfy as can be in this cold brutal weather. It stays below 30 degrees Fahrenheit during this time of year and the snow bites at any unclothed skin.Â
You fall asleep to the small hum of the heater while on the couch. Thick blanket thrown across you and tv playing as background chatter.Â
You donât know when you wake but itâs still dark outside when you hear someone that sounds distressed. Your groggy mind isnât processing that the sound is coming from inside the house. But when it does you're up in a second looking around as your eyes try to adjust to the darkness.Â
âFuck!â You hear from down the hall. Johnâs room.
You walk quietly towards it as he continues to chant that word. Suddenly it falls silent and you just hear what sounds to be deep breaths. You donât know what wills you to knock, but you do.Â
âJohn, are you okay?â You ask softly from behind the closed door. He doesnât respond but you know heâs in there from the quiet but quick breathing.Â
âNo.â He says with that familiar deep drawl.
You open the door slowly to see him sitting on the floor near the corner of his bed clearly distressed. You take notice of the mess wondering how you slept through the making of it. Thereâs glass from somewhere on the floor and clothes strewn but when you look at him your heart breaks. Heâs in full uniform, vest on, belt with equipment on, as if he didnât stop anywhere. Just came straight here. His hair has grown out to an odd length and his beard has grown longer.Â
âI canât get this fucking vest off.â He interrupts your thoughts looking at you with a sense of sorrow. You kneel to where he is careful to avoid glass. His eyes donât glance up to meet yours; they stay fixated on his hands that are covered in dirt.
âMay I?â You gesture towards the plastic buckles on the vest. He nods and you start with the two at his shoulders. Then you reach down his chest to undo the two near his belt buckle. You realize it must be connected somewhere in the back when it doesnât come off. He leans forwards as you look trying to avoid the bloodstains that taint the once green vest and sure enough the tiniest but mightiest buckle is on the center of his lower back. He shrugs it off with a sigh.Â
âBetter?â You ask softly.
âYeah, Thankyou.â He slowly tilts his head back to lean on the comforter and you donât move an inch.Â
âWhat can I do?â Truthfully youâve never been in a situation so unbearably awkward but so unwilling to just leave.
âJust sit here with me.â So you do. You scoot right next to him and lean your head on his shoulder. He couldnât admit it but the nights he slept in cold frost biting weather the thought of returning to your warm presence got him through.
âHe almost died.â His voice gives out at the end of that sentence.
âWho?âÂ
âJohnny, it wouldâve been my fault. One second later and they wouldâve put a bullet through his skull.â
âBut heâs okay?â You know John loves his team even though he doesnât outwardly say it.
âHeâs perfectly fine.âÂ
âWorrying about what couldâve been will kill you.âÂ
âSometimes I feel like thatâs what I deserve for some of the things Iâve done.âÂ
âIf not you it would be someone else making the world a better place.âÂ
âI know.âÂ
You sit there with him for a while in silence. He can barely believe he made it back alive but right now the battle feels worth it. He hears soft snores not too long later and realizes youâve fallen back to sleep. His head leans to rest above yours as he closes his eyes. He knows sleep wonât come to him but heâs never had you this close and for now heâll cherish it.
ââââ-
When you woke up again the sun had risen and a golden glow lit Johnâs room.Â
âJohn.â You whisper trying not to move your head in case heâs sleeping.
âYeah doll.â He lifts his head to look at you.
âIâm so sorry.â You feel slightly embarrassed and bad that you just fell asleep on him.
âNothing to be sorry for.â He sighs before standing on his feet with a groan then offering you hand to help you up.
âIâm going to shower.â He says as you dust yourself off.
âAfter can I give you a haircut?â He laughs a little at your not so subtle realization of his long hair..
âIf youâd like.âÂ
âIâd love.â You say before leaving, assuring him youâd be back when he's done.
You pick up your mess from the previous night. Folding your blanket and putting it back in the basket near the couch. Taking your wine glass to the sink and rinsing it out. You go to your room and change into an outfit for the day and do your morning routine. After you grab your shears, clippers and cape. By the time you're done doing all of this you no longer hear the water running meaning Johnâs done with his shower. You knock on his door lightly.
âCome in.â You walk in to see him sweeping up his mess with the small house broom and canât help but smile at the sight.Â
âCome on, let's cut your hair in the bathroom, better lighting and you can see what Iâm doing.â You say heading straight there. You sit him on the little bathroom bar stool thatâs been in there since your ex moved out. Once heâs sitting the only cape you have is pink so you throw it on him begging yourself to not laugh which you fail causing him to smirk.Â
âOkay so Iâm just gonna clean it up, fade the sides a very little, cut the top with shears and what not.â You let him know.
âYou cut your hair?â He replies, staring at you through the mirror.
âYeah so?â You smile.
âI like it, it looks good.â You feel that feeling only johns been able to provoke.
âThankyou.â You begin the cut, slowly combing out sections making sure to be precise. He seems far more relaxed than youâd imagined as you just freely cut at the top. After the matter once you're satisfied you shave the sides a little just enough to where it looks cleaner.Â
âCan I do your beard and mustache?âÂ
âYou're the hairstylist, not me?â Is all he says.Â
So you do, very carefully, mere inches away from his face your hands hold one side of his jaw softly to trim the other side. He watches your expression intently. The way when youâre focused thereâs a crease that forms between your eyebrows and your pupils blow a little wide.
âAll done.â You say pulling him from his trance. You move his face with your hands really checking to make sure all is well.
âVery handsome.â You compliment before turning around to rinse your shears and put them away.Â
âThank You doll.â He says examining it himself in the mirror thoroughly pleased with how well you did even though he knows you donât cut menâs hair. He doesnât notice you grab his beard oil from the cabinet till you're smoothing it between your hands and asking him to face you so you can rub it through the coarse brown hair. Ever the nurturer.
It feels like time apart only made you two feel closer somehow. Or maybe itâs because you wanted to be close and those feelings were equally reciprocated.Â
The rest of that day John had loads of paperwork to file, sign and report. So he did that, he sat in his office for long hours going through the process. The only thing that slightly lightened this burden was your voice humming in the kitchen as you cooked something. Youâd stopped by and offered him some which he gladly accepted from your giving hands. Hours later you bid him a goodnight and went to bed and even then he had so much more left.
âââââ
The next day you catch John in the kitchen and tell him thereâs something you must show him.
âSo you built it all yourself?â He says as you show him your little project you did outside. Thereâs a thick coat wrapped around you as you donât fully step outside to avoid slipping on the icy ground. Him though, he stands on it with no problem in what looks like military issued boots.Â
âYes I did.â You say proudly despite his clear disdain.
âI missed you, even your stubbornness.â After the months Johnâs been through there was no point in hiding the way he was feeling.
âI missed you too.â You smile while clearly avoiding his gaze.
How had he missed this all along?
âWould you like to go out for drinks?â
âWhat?â You turn around to meet his eyes.
âCan I take you out for drinks?â What being mere inches away from death does to a man.
âYeah.âÂ
-
You both silently walk away trying to break the bounds of the tense pull that makes you want to gravitate towards each other. You put on something cute but also warm and slip on some brown doc martens as your choice of shoe. You do light makeup as you give yourself a pep talk.
âOnly two drinks, only two drinks.â You have to tell yourself cause after two your too you.Â
You hear John putting his shoes on by the hallway and take in the sight of him, brown leather jacket and beanie. Youâre not sure how heâs going to stay warm in that but something tells you he will.
âReady?â He asks and you nod nervously.
-
âOkay, hold on, I have to do this really slow or Iâll fall.â You say stepping slowly out onto the ground below the porch stairs.Â
âWell come here Iâll help you.â He offers his hand. You grab it softly, swooning at the way it encompasses your own. Thereâs something inside of him that doesnât even want you to risk walking on this floor but of course he also doesnât want to push.Â
âOkay nice and slow.â Youâre not even taking full steps, just small slides. You clutch his hand for dear life and he loves it.Â
âGood girl.â He says once you reach the door of his truck which he opens for you. He doesnât let go till you sit inside then only does he slip his hand from your warm one and closes the door.Â
âWhich pub?â You ask as he turns on the heater only for your sake.
âThe one downtown near the little Italian grocer.â You know exactly which one heâs talking about. Its dim light atmosphere is cozy but fun but usually full of mainly couples.
âMkay.â You say looking out the window at the gloomy sky realizing it just might rain.Â
He glances your way during the small drive, your scent of your floral perfume mixed with his of cardamom and musk is quite perfect.Â
âYou alright?â He asks.
âYeah, just comfy, you?â He grins at your response.
âNever been better.â
He pulls into one of the street parking spots and despite the weather the streets are full, he gets out to put coins inside the slot for time before heading to your side of the car.Â
âWait, I'm scared.â You say realizing that the distance to the bar doesnât seem to be a survivable one.Â
âCome on, I'll hold your hand.â
âIâll fall regardless.â
âWant me to carry you?â He genuinely offers.
âWhat?â You laugh.Â
âDoll Iâm very serious I will carry you, just get on my back.â
âWhat if we both fall?âÂ
âIâm not falling, trust me.â He says turning around motions for you to get on his back.
âOkay then.â You hook your legs around his upper waist and his arms reach to tuck themselves firmly beneath your knees.
âComfortable?â He asks. Heâs sure you can hear his heart racing from the proximity youâre in.Â
âVery.â All your dreams of climbing this man have come true.Â
You shut the door as he steps onto the sidewalk. You tuck your chin in by his neck for warmth. He smells woodsy with a hint of musk, it makes your head spin.
âHow are you not slipping?â You say very suspicious.
âDoll I could run on this floor with these boots on.â He answers looking slightly over his shoulder at you.
âWell donât.â You say seriously and he laughs as he approaches the bar, opening the door and setting you softly on the floor.Â
He finds you both a booth in the corner and sits on the side where he can see the entire bar, very John of John.
âWhat do you drink?â He asks, trying to make conversation. Suddenly the air feels very intimate, almost too intimate for what he considers his old man heart.
âWhen Iâm out, martinis.âÂ
âEspresso?âÂ
âMhmm.â Youâre trying your hardest to hold the eye contact heâs giving you but something about the blue in his eyes and creases on the side of them has you breaking it quicker than it started.
âIâll be back then.â He says sliding out of the booth feeling slightly accomplished.
You sit there looking at the lively pub, how many romances are at their peak here, how many friends are having the best night of their lives, how you amongst them are finally feeling like you again.Â
âHere we are.â He says returning with two glasses, his is a classic bourbon with a square ice cube in the glass.
âThankyou.â You say as he slides it over to you.
âSo whatâd you do while I was gone, other than be reckless and build furniture.â He asks as you sip from your glass.
âI did lots of hair, painted a bit, found new color schemes for decor and thatâs kinda it, Iâd ask you the same question but I fear you canât answer.âÂ
âYour fears are true.â
âThat Kate woman, she's very pretty.â Are you a little jealous?
âYeah sheâs also very married.â He says it like he doesnât know what you're on about.
âAnd also not into men.â You nearly choke on your drink and swallow hard to get it down.
âWell I was just saying.â Sure you were.
You two have small chatter as you go through drinks. You tried to offer the second round but John said no for you to just stay in your seat. He came back with thirds and you definitely were starting to feel the effects of the previous two, him though not at all.
âSo youâre telling me John you as very um good looking as you are havenât had a girlfriend in how long?âÂ
âEight years.â He says while being very amused with your light hearted, open attitude.
âThatâs just not right.â
âNo?âÂ
âNo, personally, well never mind.â Youâre not drunk enough to say what you were about too.
âWhat about you, why no boyfriends?âÂ
âIâm very, I would say needy I guess clingy even, Iâm a double texter, someone who worries and loves too much and I think that can be overwhelming for a lot of people.â You admit.
âDonât believe that.â He says, sounding a little annoyed.
âFor the right person you could never be overwhelming.â He says looking at you intensely and this time you canât seem to look away.
Once your third drink is finished itâs raining outside and youâre words away from trouble.
âJohn?âÂ
âYeah doll.â
âYou make me feel alive again.â You admit, the alcohol has casted a pretty shade of pink on your cheeks as you lean your head on your hand and John doesnât think heâs ever been more entranced.Â
âYou and me both, here drink some water.â He slides it to you. Youâre sweet, too sweet. He feels like if he touches you physically or emotionally heâd be tainting art.
âHas anyone told you you're very climbable?âÂ
âItâs time for us to get going, you're quite the light weight.â He laughs offering you a hand as you slide off the booth.
He leaves a tip on the table before walking with you to the door. He has to bend far more than he normally would for you to secure yourself on his back before heâs walking outside. This time heâs walking faster because of the rain droplets that are falling hard. He seats you in the car and reaches across you to buckle you in before heading to his side.Â
The drive home is pretty quiet, he drives extra slowly because of the precious cargo he carries. Once he pulls back into the gravelly drive way you unbuckle and open the door as he puts the car in park.Â
âYou donât want to wait for me.â He asks, a little concerned.
âI got this.â You hop out of the elevated truck immediately slipping and having to grab onto the door. He walks quickly to your side laughing at the expression on your face.
âYou sure do.â He says as he grabs your arm
âOh stop it.â You say accepting the help, sliding your feet on the ice again till you get to the door. Once you get inside you groan into the toasty air.Â
âThankyou for tonight John.â You say facing him once you kick your boots off. You hadnât realized how close you were till you turned around and could feel the heat radiating off of him and smell the bourbon on his breath.Â
âNo, thank you.â He says feeling awfully captivated, hanging onto your every move. You cup his face and stand on your tippy toes, boldly yet slowly placing a kiss on the corner of his lips.Â
Heâs starstruck. Absolutely dazed at the look of mischief in your eyes, something that tells him you know exactly what youâre doing to him.Â
âGoodnight John.â You say patting his chest and walking down towards your room.
âââââ
I couldn't wait till tommorrow i'm sorry.
comments and reposts are greatly appreciated:)
@beebeechaos @ttsbaby01 @arminarlertssword @quakeroaksguy @rafaelacallinybbay @bumblebeesfromvenus @glitterypirateduck @midnights-song @spyderdoll @lovelythingsinternal @fruitymoonbeams-blog @kkaaaagt @kit-williams @enfppixie @kythefangirl25 @eviltheleon @here4thespice @dclore22 @raethethey @waves-against-a-cliff @novausstuff @darling006 @vampirekilmerfic @dreams-of-qian-qian @spngingerbread21 @thepumpkinqueen93 @copiasratscheese @youdontknowe
#angst#captain price x female reader#john price#barry sloane#captain john price#john price x reader#task force 141#john soap mactavish#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley
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Soho House
Hi everyone! Here is build #1 for this month! You guys voted on what two builds you wanted to see in July, and a Soho house was #2. The building is a converted factory with a greenhouse/art studio in the back. I hope you all enjoy!
2 bed, 2 bath
30 x 30 lot
§378,288
download (patreon, completely free)
CC List and more screenshots under the cut!
CC List:
Just a little warning, it's a long list. To summarize, it's pretty much all the CC from Pierisim, Felixandre, and Harrie.
BAYSICÂ | BAYSIC BATHROOMÂ | ORJĂNIC - Part 1Â | ORJĂNIC - Part 2Â | KICHEN 2Point0 - Pt 1Â | THE BAFROOMÂ | LIVINâ RUMÂ | KICHEN | TINY TWAVELLERSÂ | JARDANEÂ | House of Harlix
Outside Lunch | MCM House part 2 | MCM House part 3 | WINTER GARDEN | STEFAN livingroom | STEFAN bathroom | David's Apartment - part 1 | David's Apartment - part 2 | David's Apartment - part 3 | Auntie Vera's Bathroom | Teeny Weeny | UNFOLD | STEFAN kitchen | WOODLAND Ranch - part 2 | WOODLAND Ranch - part 3 | Domaine du Clos - part 4 | OAK HOUSE part.1 | OAK HOUSE part.2 | OAK HOUSE part.3 | OAK HOUSE Part5 | The LIVING-ROOM mini kit | CALDERONE bedroom | THE OFFICE | PANTRY PARTY | COMBLES | TIDYING UP | Pierisim
LONDON Set Full | CHATEAU Part 4 | CHATEAU Part 5 | SOHO Set Part 1 | SOHO Part 2 | SOHO Part 3 | SOHO Part 4 | SOHO Part 4 Exterior | SOHO Set Part 5 | SOHO Part 6 | PARIS Set Part 2 | PARIS Set Part 3 | BERLIN Part 1 | FLORENCE Part 1 | FLORENCE Part 4 | Kyoto Pt. | Kyoto set pt. 3 | SHOP THE LOOK Season1 | SHOP THE LOOK Season 2 | GROVE Part 2 | GROVE Part 4 | The GATSBY Set | FAYUN Part 2 | Felixandre
The Apartment: Copenhagen - Part One | The Klean Collection - Part Three | Klean Collection - Part 4 | Klean Collection - Part 5 | The Klean Collection - Part Six | The Brownstone Collection - Part One | Brownstone Collection - Part 3 | Octave Collection - Part One | Octave Collection - Part 2 | Octave Collection - Part 3 | Octave Collection - Part 4 | Spoons - Part One | Spoons - Part 2 | Spoons - Part 3 | The Coastal Collection - Part Eight | Shop The Look | Shop The Look 2 | Shop The Look 3 | The Coastal Collection - Part Two | The Coastal Collection - Part Three | Kwatei Collection - Part One | Kwatei Collection - Part 3 | Halycon Kitchen - The Complete Collection | The Brutalist Bathroom | The Country Collection - Part 3 | Harrie
Loloi Rugs Set | Sooky
#sims 4#s4#ts4#s4 build#my stuff#sims 4 build#ts4 build#sims 4 download#s4 download#ts4 download#s4 shell#ts4 shell#sims 4 shell#s4 house#sims 4 house#ts4 house
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L O T R E V I S I O N - Accommodating the Suite Life Mod by Lot51
The S Hotel @ Uptown
(CC List + Links)
(Disclaimer: I am not affiliated with this hotel by any means. I simply took the 'S' from San Myshuno and slapped 'Hotel' after it. The '@ Uptown' is because I built it within the Uptown neighborhood of said Sims 4 world.)
World Map:Â San Myshuno
Area: Stargazer Lounge
Lot Size:Â 40 x 30
Amenities: Bar, Lounge, Nightclub, Pool, Restaurant, Wedding Venue
(These are the venue types that my build meets the requirements of)
Gallery ID:Â Simstorian-ish
Packs Needed
Expansion Packs
City Living
Eco Lifestyle
For Rent
Get Famous
Get Together
Get To Work
Island Living
Snowy Escape
Game Packs
Dine Out
My Wedding Stories
Parenthood
Spa Day
Vampires
Stuff Packs
Backyard Stuff
Home Chef Hustle
Moschino
Romantic Garden
Recommended Gameplay Mods
(Please read through what each mod has to offer before deciding if it fits your gameplay style or not.)
Dine Out Reloaded
Lock/Unlock Doors for Any Lot
MC Command Center
No Fade On Everything
Spawn Refresh
Build Mode
Harlix
Bafroom (Tall Windows + Tall Doors)
Harrie
Octave Pt. 2 (All Doors)
LittleDica
H&B Store (Lit Letters)
Peacemaker
Old World Wild Plank Flooring
Shaker Paneling
Pierisim
Stefan Kitchen (Tiles)
Syboubou
Lift Elevator (This is NEEDED)
TaurusDesign
Judith Living Room (Walls)
Buy Mode
BlueTeas
Milano Living (Chandelier Medium)
Safford Entertainment Room (Morris Barstool)
Samara Dining (Chandeliers, Sconce)
Felixandre
Chateau Pt. 5 (Tall Bookshelf Pieces)
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How I met Evan Peters (Fanfic - Part 7 - Final)
Pairings â Evan Peters x Y/N (fem reader)
Summary â A couple of months after Jakeâs (Evanâs friend) tragic accident left him fighting for his life in intensive care, Evan is spiralling, lost in despair, a shadow of his former self. Just as a sliver of good news about his condition offers a ray of hope, Y/N steps in, determined to bring some light into Evanâs shattered world. She starts with a seductive dance and builds to a night of passion. But Evan has a surpriseâone that will change everything in a way Y/N never saw coming.
Warnings â Obscene language, lap dance, oral (both receiving), overstimulation, mild daddy kink, nipple teasing, spanking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, cowgirl, missionary, extra smuttyâlike you like it.
Read Part 1 | Read Part 2 | Read Part 3 | Read Part 4 | Read Part 5 | Read Part 6
Word count â 5.1K (I had a lot to say đ€«)
18+ This is ADULT content. Iâm not your mummy to supervise your net access. If youâre a minor, do NOT read!
@evanchantingpeters â All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.
Previously on: How I met Evan Peters (Part 6)
âW-whatâs up, Jeremy?â he stutters, his voice barely a whisper. âItâs Jake,â Jeremy blurts out, his expression twisting into one of anguish. âHeâs fallen off the roof.â Jeremyâs words hit like a punch to the gut, the colour draining from Evanâs face. The room goes deathly quiet, the weight of his words sinking in. The room spins as everything comes to a screeching halt.
Two months after Jakeâs accidentÂ
Thursday, 16:42 pmÂ
You settle into the cosy corner of his New York apartment, the cityâs hustle muffled by the soft hum of the radiator. A rustic wooden desk hosting your work setup and a quirky lamp, which has seen better days but adds to the character, stands against the wall. A plush bean bag chair invites you to sink in while a baroque rug sprawls beneath your feet, and a bookshelf stuffed with books and random knick-knacks lurks by your side. Sunlight streams through light, breezy curtains, making it a perfect workspace for your remote routine. With Evan busy with press and meetings for the next few weeks, this place feels almost like a retreatâif only you could shake off the looming frustration of the Excel table before you.
Youâd think by now youâd have mastered the art of not losing your shit at work, being the corporate girlie you are, while dealing with this stupid spreadsheet, but nope. Here you are, puffing like the Big Bad Wolf trying to blow down formulas that refuse to behave.
As youâre fighting and suffering through, your hand drifts toward your phone. You know how it goes. Brainâs fried, and next thing you know, youâre aimlessly scrolling through the endless pit of Instagram reels without even realising it. Well, this time itâs Evanâs name glowing like a beacon of your favourite âdistraction,â and your stomach flutters, your heart racing.
Oh, hello, messages!
You open the chat, expecting a quick âIâll be back in 10â, baby. Canât wait to kiss youâ text or maybe a meme about cats judging people (you know, standard fare). Instead, what do you find? A picture. But not just any picture. Oh no, this man, YOUR man, is standing there in a white tee, his pose giving swagger âyoâ next to Todd McFarlane, a comic book legend. The whole shebang.
And here comes the string of messages:
âBabyyyy, look - Todd McFarlane in da house for the press conference!!âÂ
âheâs signed the Amazing Spider-Man hardcopy!!âÂ
âill bring it home and we frame it ;)âÂ
âweâre going live.. tune in xxâÂ
âchanged into the blazer and stripy tee you picked for me. Love you so â„ïžâ
Letâs pause here. Not at Todd McFarlane â who, mind you, is hands-down a god in his domain, but no. Your eyes, traitors that they are, keep sliding back to that picture of Evan.
Because damn.
Toddâs cool and all, but Evan in that white tee and messy curls? Where do you even begin? The man looks like he rolled out of bed straight into a photoshoot and decided to smoulder for no apparent reason. You know the oneâthat half-cocked sly smile that screams, âYeah, I know what Iâm doing to do, and youâre welcome.â
You catch yourself zooming in and drooling over him like a total goofball. The scrunched-up grimace. The luscious Tarzan hair. The way his eyes carry a hint of sadness and fatigue but with residues of that familiar spark he always has. Itâs weird how something as simple as a picture can make your heart do that silly backflip thing over and over again after more than a year with him.Â
Snap out of it, girl. Spreadsheetâs waiting. But no, instead of getting back to formulas, your brain takes a little detour down Memory Lane. Suddenly, youâre remembering the last time Evan was kneeling in front of you. Not in some adorable, âlet me tie your shoes, princessâ way, but more of an arousing âlet me worship you, queen,â Roman Empire situation.
Oh, yeah. That night.Â
Youâd seized your throne aka that big armchair in the middle of the dimly-lit living room. And there he was, on his knees, completely surrendered to you. His tongue was lapping on your wet folds like you were the sweetest cake frosting heâd ever tasted. His slender fingers were plumping in and out of you in all the right spots as he slurped up your syrups and juices, sucking on your clit like itâs cherry on dessert.
His tongue would thrash and french kiss your puffy sobbing walls up near the throbbing bulb of your sensitive clit. You tugged on his hair, his brown curls wrapped around your fingers like reins as he pulled you apart, inch by inch. Your jaw tightened as his tongue and fingers mercilessly rutted into you, giving you crazed whiplash as you squirt, all while licking you clean with eager choked moans.Â
Your body tremors and orgasmic vibrations were seismic⊠just like they are now as your cunt pulsates and aches for him, even though youâre sitting at the dining table, fully clothed and miles away from him.Â
Funny how memories can sneak up on you like that, isnât it?
But hereâs the kicker. As much as youâd love for a repeat performance, thatâs not where you guys are at these days. Not since Jake fell off the roof at the party he hosted at his place. You get itâone of Evanâs best friends is in a hospital bed, clinging to life while in a coma, and Evanâs drowning in his own sea of emotions and sorrow. The man is dragging so much weight on his shoulders right now.Â
And you respect that. You really do. Your sex life has justifiably taken a backseat, but youâre not here to push or force him. What you have and share with him isnât mere lust; you love him, and you acknowledge that heâs having it rough at the moment. Youâve been trying to be his rock, the one who keeps him grounded while he navigates the heavy blizzard of the tragedy.Â
But you canât help it.Â
Sometimes, your mind slips back to those sizzling moments where your bodies speak in a language only you two comprehend. Because, letâs be realâhe might be wearing the blazer you chose for him in the morning, but under all that fabric, youâre the one who gets to undress the real Evan. And if thatâs not worth waiting for, you donât know what is.
You sigh, your fingers hovering over the keyboard, but youâve left the spreadsheets and work far behind with all those cheeky little fantasies that gnaw on your brain. Still knee-deep in wet daydreams of Evan and hisâwell, *coughing* talents, when the universe decides to slap you in the face with reality.Â
That âweâre going live, tune in xxâ text blinks back at you from the chat, practically yelling to stop fantasising and actually be the supportive girlfriend you claim to be.Â
Gasp.
Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap. Gasp again.
The press conference! You need to watch it. Like, now.Â
You scramble up from the table so fast, youâd think the chair is lava, and launch into a desperate hunt for the TV remote. The remote is like a cryptidâalways hiding in the most inconvenient places at the worst times. Last week? In the fridge. Donât ask. Today? Who knows. Youâre flipping couch cushions like youâre on an archaeological dig.
âWHERE IS IT?!â you yelp, your high-pitched voice bouncing off the walls like youâre a banshee in panic mode. Female rage core.
Nowhere. Absolutely nowhere. Itâs like the remoteâs decided to pack its bags and set off to Narnia with no return ticket.
Curse you, technology masterminds.
Plan B.Â
You rush back to your laptop, slide your fingers along the trackpad to wake it up, andâoh no, whatâs this? Your whole screenâs been hijacked by the most evil of phrases:
Software Update: 30% Complete.
Are. You. For. Real.Â
You stare at the loading bar like you can will it to go faster. Or pretend youâre not watching, so it speeds up. Smart but nah, thatâs placeboâno such luck. This thing is moving slower than a Monday morning during rush hours, and if you wait for it, youâll be watching Evanâs interview in the past tense or through his narration once heâs back home.Â
You let out a huff that could probably power a small wind turbine and whip out your phone, praying to every deity that your Wi-Fi doesnât fail you amidst crisis.Â
âCome on, come on,â you mutter through gritted teeth, frantically tapping apps like your fingers are on caffeine overload. And just when you think someone is playing another cruel trick on youâboom, there it is. The live stream.Â
The screen lights up, and there comes baby Evan on stage, looking all sleek and profesh in his blazer (you knew the combo with the stripes underneath would work wonders *proud stylist smiling*). Heâs sitting on a stool along with his co-stars, all of them gathered in this massive amphitheatre for their upcoming movie press tour.Â
Heâs got the mic in his hand, finishing up a sentence with that smooth, husky tone. You know, that voice that sounds like a lullaby wrapped in velvet. But thereâs also the twist of dorky humour and the cute brow furrows he taps into when heâs either totally in his element or way too awkward.Â
The interviewer gives him a nod, then sighs. Your stomach drops.
The next question is about Jake, as heâs guy well known for scripting some of the most beloved TV shows. If there were a Hall of Fame for TV writers, his star would be as big as a small planet. Heâs adored by fandoms for his wit and creativity, and now youâre all grappling with the fallout from his misfortune.
You can see the shift in Evanâs face from media charm to something⊠darker, melancholic. Heâs trying so hard to stay composed, but you know him. That tiny flicker of anguish behind his eyes filters through the cracks.
Evan takes a sharp breath and clears his throat. âYeah, Jake was moved from LA and remains in ICU here in New York,â he admits, voice steady but edged with quiet vulnerability. âBut thereâs⊠a... thereâs a glimmer of hope. He moved his hand today.â
For a second, the world stops spinning. Did he just sayâ? He moved?!
Your heart does a somersault, and you canât help itâyou cheer and clap right along with the audience, even though youâre alone in the living room in your mismatched socks, overstretched yoga shorts, and messy bun. Who cares, honestly? Jake moved his hand.Â
Evan lets the crowdâs enthusiasm bubble up for a second before he delicately taming it. âItâs good news,â he continues, his voice like a fuzzy blanket, soothing yet cautious. âBut letâs not start planning the parade just yetâthereâs a long road ahead for him. Weâll have to see how his health evolves from here. I just wanted to share this little nugget of hope. His familyâs already spreading the word, and they gave me the green light to pass it on to all of you.â
Thereâs a tightness in his voice, and you can tell heâs got a fortress built around his emotions, probably fighting not to let it crumble in front of all those people and cameras. Your babyâs always been strong like steel this way, the type who carries everyoneâs baggage on his shoulders without ever letting on how heavy it is.Â
You sit there, phone in hand, staring at his face on the screen. Thereâs so much going on behind those eyes, and you know he probably feels like crap underneath that calm exterior.Â
You wish you could reach through the screen and just be there with him in a âIâve got you, youâre not aloneâ kind of way. Youâve been weathering this storm together, and itâs been tough as hell. Itâs taken everything in him just to stay afloat, but heâs doing it. Heâs really doing it...
Thereâs something about post-work Thursdays that sends you into this frantic, impulsive must-clean-everything-in-sight mode. Not that Evan cares if thereâs a pile of laundry in the corner or if the dishes are threatening to stage a rebellion in the sink, but still. He doesnât expect you to tackle it all just because youâre working fully from home; he can do it himself, but you want the place to look neat and tidy. You know, like âI have my life together and didnât just spend the last two hours binge-watching cooking videos on YouTubeâ level of very demure, very mindful adulthood.
So here you are, in full-on cleaning tornado modeâscrubbing the counter with the kind of intensity that could probably burn caloriesâwhen your ears perk at the rustling sound.Â
That magical jingle of keys. The ignition. The click of the door unlocking.
Baby Evanâs home.
You drop the sponge like itâs on fire and just bolt. You donât even think. Itâs pure instinct, like youâre a puppy who heard the treat jar open. Your pulse leaps, your feet fly, and before you know it, youâre flinging the front door open just as he steps in. And there he is.
Your man. Your whole heart.
Heâs got his arms fullâtakeout bags in one hand, his backpack slung over his shoulder, looking more mouth-watering than anything that could possibly be in those containers. His hairâs a little ruffled, his shirt rumpled from the day, but to you, he might as well be walking straight out of a rom-com.
âEVIEEEE!â you squeal, pouncing at him with the enthusiasm of a kid on a sugar high.
âWhoa!â he chuckles heartily, catching you mid-air. He spins you around even though you can sense the stiffness in his body as he battles not to drop the dinner. Heâs out of breath, but he holds you tight, like heâs afraid to let go. His backpack slides down his arm, and for a second, youâre just tangled togetherâglued around him, his hands grasping on you firmly.
âCouldnât wait to see me, huh?â he teases, his voice hoarse from the long day. But you can see it in his eyesâheâs just as hyped to be back in your little cocoon as you are.Â
âYou have no idea,â you breathe, and before you can utter anything else, his lips are on yours, kissing you like heâs been starved for weeks. Youâre pretty sure you hear the bags crinkle between you two, but whatever⊠they can wait.
Itâs not just a kiss. Oh no, this is the you-just-got-kissed-senseless kind that says, âIâm never letting you out of my reach again.â Itâs deep and sloppy, and you feel it all the way down your toes. Little lewd moans escape your bodies as your tongues greet each other, swirling around in a lustful dance. He tastes like toffee, baby powder, warmth, comfort, and home.
You melt into each other, completely forgetting about the bags or the fact that youâve still got soap on your hands. You twirl faster together as his hands mischievously squeeze your ass, making you giggle into his mouth.
âI was counting the hours to get to you, Y/N, and time was a total bitch today,â he grumbles, and itâs a husky purr near the nape of your neck. Your plump lips curl into an âawh, my poor babyâ pout, cupping his cheeks in your palms as you swarm his face with little pecks.Â
When he finally sets you down, youâre both grinning like idiots. Your heartâs doing cartwheels, and your stomach feels like youâve swallowed a whole bunch of butterflies. You missed him. Not just having him around, but all the little things tied inâhis laugh, his hands on you, the way he stares at you like youâre a precious gem.
Closing the door behind you, you pace together towards the kitchen, and get the itch to drop the question, âDid Jake really move?â Your voice is hopeful, but thereâs a little tinge of fear there too. You know how much this means to Evan, so you need to tread about cautiously.
He pauses, chucking his backpack aside before turning to you. His eyes soften, and he nods, stepping closer. His hands find your waist again, his face buried in the crook of your neck. âYeah. He really did.â
Before you can even process the relief, Evanâs lips are on yours again, soft whimpers rolling off him. This time, the kiss is slower, more tender like silky ribbons on your mouth. His lips trail from your mouth down to your neck, his breath tingly against your heated skin. âGosh, how much I needed you today,â he whispers between kisses, his voice dense with emotion as he presses his mouth lower, toward the neckline of your sports bra. His fingers gently graze your sides and rest on your hip bones before massaging your ass, and your breath hitches.
You thread your fingers through his hair, feeling the tension melt out of him as his body leans into yours. âMe too,â you huff out, because honestly, you feel like youâve been holding your breath all day, just waiting for him to come home.
But then you pull away slightly, the thought of Jake scratching the back of your mind. âCan we go see him now?â
Evan sighs, resting his forehead against yours for a moment, his breath warm and steady. âNot tonight,â he exhales, taking a couple of steps back. âItâs just family. They wanna keep it low with the visits.â
You shake your head in acknowledgment, nervously biting your fingernail. You get itâyou really doâbut thereâs still that little sting of disappointment tugging at your chest. âHow âbout tomorrow?â
âYeah,â he mumbles, glancing over at you again as he tears the bags apart and unpacks the food. âWeâll try tomorrow afternoon. His familyâs still adjusting, but Iâll talk to them.â
The relief that washes over you is like a pleasant, summer breeze, calming your frayed nerves. Tomorrow. You let out a breathy, âOkay, great,â your shoulders finally loosening. As you approach him to help dispose of the bags, Evanâs hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist in one quick, playful motion, pulling you flush against him.Â
You barely have time to gasp before his lips crash against yours, his tongue barging in your mouth without warning, assaulting yours in tantalising ways that are better left unsaid. You loop your arms around the back of his head and drag him closer, your tits cushioning his shredded chest.
âDonât leave, please,â he hushes, his lips caressing yours. His voice is huskier now, a bit rougher around the edges, and you can feel the warmth from his body merging with yours. His free hand slips down to the supple flesh of your waist again, fingers curling just under the hem of your top to tuck underneath.
You smirk against his mouth, tilting your head slightly. âYou know, we do live together, sirâ you tease, playfully pinching the tip of his nose.
âThatâs a reminder in case you forgot,â he quips, nuzzling into the slope of your neck. His broad shoulders are curved over you from behind like a shield, throwing every organ in your body on high alert, your heart drumming violently.
He pulls back, and before you can react, he gives your ass a quick, cheeky smack that makes you jump. Your mouth drops open in surprise, but he just grins smugly, like heâs fully aware of what heâs done, and heâs proud of it.
âHey!â you whimper, swatting at him, but thereâs no denying your pulse thumps fiercely.
âWhat?â he squeaks sheepishly, throwing his hands up in exasperation, but the glint in his eye gives him away. âYou look too good to keep my hands off. Plus, guess who was stuck in my head the whole day. Hintâitâs not the burgers,â he fires back, waggling his eyebrows at you.Â
You roll your eyes comically, but your heartbeat is up now. Thereâs something about the way heâs staring down at youâlike heâs hungry, and itâs not just for the takeout. You notice it when he leans in again, this time with a heat that wasnât there a moment ago. His lips trace a line of open mouthed kisses from your jaw to your collarbone. Your fingers twist around his shirt, gripping it, as his hands roam a little lower, tugging you closer until you can feel every ounce of him pressed against you.
âSpeaking of burgers, if foodâs your love language, then youâre speaking mine fluently,â you chuckle, but the second you catch the look Evan gives youâwhoa, buddy. Foodâs officially second on his menu. His eyes are a pair of flamed balls, fixed onto you like youâre the main course, dessert, and everything in betweenâlike youâre the most appetising thing in the room.
And, letâs just say, heâs a lot more âwarmed upâ than usual. His kisses grow deeper, rougher, and the way heâs touching you are the real giveaway⊠The manâs practically simmering.
And oh, honey, youâre more than pleased to help him get away tonight. So, in your most casual, not-at-all-planned-in-your-head-already way, you decide tonightâs the night to put up a show⊠Literally.Â
You let your hands glide down his chest, feeling every erratic beat of his heart beneath his shirt. âYouâve been through a lot lately,â you murmur softly, your fingers dipping lower until youâre just hovering over his belt buckle, toying with the metal. âHow about I pamper you tonight?â
You let your tongue slide over his upper lip, and damn if he doesnât shudder. His eyes flash with thrill and curiosityâmixed with something darker, more primal. âOh?â His voice comes out in this sexy rasp like heâs intrigued but still playing along, letting you lead for now.
You bite back a smug grin. Oh, you have no idea what youâre in for.
With a playful wink, you step back, making sure to drag your hand across his chest one last time. âSit tight, big boy,â you purr, backing away with just the right amount of sway in your hips. âThis showâs just getting started.â
You saunter down the hallway, feeling his gaze burning a path down your back. You can feel your heart pounding as you head into the bedroom, closing the door behind you. The second it clicks shut, you lean against it for a second to catch your breath. The adrenaline makes your hands quiver a little as you rummage through the drawer.
There it is: that little black number youâve been saving for a night just like this.Â
A lacy, black lingerie piece, sheer in all the right places, hugging curves like it was made for you. You shimmy it on, adjusting the straps, making sure everythingâs sitting just so.Â
A quick glance in the mirror as you set your hair free from the bunâtousled, sexy-but-effortless vibe, check. The lace hints at more than it conceals, and your lips curl into a slow smile. Oh, yeah, heâs done for. You toss on a silky robe, leaving it untied, the lace peeking through just enough to give him a preview. A little fragrance spritz and a light touch of your lipstick, and youâre sorted.
When you open the door and walk back into the living room, you find him perched on the couch, his eyes snapping to you like magnets, intense and feral, as you come into view. His posture is stiff, knuckles blanched as they grip the cushions like heâs holding on for dear life. His pupils, wide and black with want, devouring the sight of you as if you are something forbidden, yet irresistible.
His gaze lingers, darkening when it catches on the soft peek of skin where your robe parts. He swallows hard, audibly, and when you let the silky fabric slip from your shoulders and pool at your feet, his jaw clenchesâhard (hint: and not just his jaw).
The low light of the room encases you as it casts a sensual glow over the room, deepening the shadows and sharpening the tension between you two like a blade.
âF-fuck,â he wheezes, like the breathâs been knocked clean and shallow out of him. He tries to maintain some semblance of self-control, but the sharp despair in his voice betrays him. He sinks deeper into the couch, spreading his legs slightly, shooting you this look thatâs pure, unfiltered desire as he drinks you in.Â
You want to torture him, enjoying how his gaze rakes over every inch of you, so you slowly strut over to him. Each step is deliberate, your hips swinging in a slow, intoxicating rhythm thatâs nothing short of tempting. His composure slips just a little moreâa twitch in his jaw, a harsh swallow, the way his chest rises and falls, faster with every second. His eyes flick down to the curves, then back up to your scandalous tits before snapping back to your face.
The heat from his body radiates into yours as you come to a stop, your thighs rubbing against his knees, and his hands instinctively move to grab your waist. But youâre not giving in that easily. âUh-uh,â you purr, wagging a teasing finger at him, your lips forming a sly smile.Â
His fingers freeze, but his eyes burn with frustration as you stretch, purposely slow, letting your ass hover just above his lap. The unmistakable press of his hardness through his jeans sends a jolt of arousal through you, and you canât help but smirk. âIâm in charge tonight, remember?âÂ
Evan lets out a furious groan, his head falling back defeated against the cushions, hands flexing in silent restraint. The power you hold over him tonight? Oh, itâs delicious, addictive. You throw him one last, seductive glance before turning around, giving him the full view of your barely-there lingerieâdelicate straps criss-crossing down your back and framing your ass like a gift heâs dying to unwrap.
You hear as a muttered curse slips past his lips, low and guttural. Heâs so close to breaking, and you havenât even actually started yet. You scroll through your phoneâs playlist, cueing up the perfect song for the occasion. The room is soon filled with the slow, sultry beats of BeyoncĂ©âs âDance For You,â wrapping around both of you like a spell. You start slow, letting the music guide your hips, rolling in hypnotic circles.Â
You saunter towards a nearby chair, aka your prop, bending over it as your body flows like liquid heat to the beat. His eyes religiously follow every motion, waiting, his breathing growing heavier like heâs holding on a thread with every flick of your hips, every arch of your spine.
You roam your fingers up my body, teasingly stopping at your hips before dragging them higher, skimming over your breasts. With agonising slowness, you untie your bra, holding his attention and eye contact hostage. The second the lace slips off your body, you toss it in his direction with a devilish grin. He catches it with a hungry grunt, burying his face in the fabric like a man possessed, his smirk turning malicious as he inhales deeply.
âGod, youâre killing me,â he groans, eyes exploding with thirst for you. The sight of him, chest heaving, lips slightly partedâoh, itâs so sadistically satisfying.Â
Youâre gonna make him beg for it.Â
Leaning forward, just enough for your bare breasts to graze his chest, you bring your lips up to his ear, hot breath fanning the side of his face, âGood,â voice dripping with a promise for more. You pull back just a fraction, your lips curving into a wicked smile. âIâm just getting started.âÂ
You circle behind him, and he twists his head, tracking your every move, but youâre not finished (no pun intended).
âPlease, Y/N. Come sit on my lap, or my faceâŠjustââ His voice breaks, raw and pleading, his body squirming as he shifts, desperate for release. The power thrumming through your veins is out of this world, and you bite your bottom lip knowing youâve got him right on the edge.Â
You start with the lightest touch, dragging your fingers over the hard lines of his shoulders, tracing down the sculpted muscles of his chest, feeling the shudder that runs through him as you slide lower. Your fingers brush over the taut muscles of his thighs.
His stiff length twitches beneath your touch, his growl of desire low and animalistic. His hands stretch again, desperate to reach for you, but you chuckle softly, knowing heâs at your mercy tonight. His usual command is gone, flipped on its head, and that hunger in his eyes tells you heâs loving every second of it.
The music pulses through the room as you circle back around to him. You bend low, your curves on full display, just close enough for him to grab a handful of your ass with an eager groan that rumbles through his chest. He finally pulls you into him, lips attacking your skin, trailing down your spine with feverish kisses as he peels your thong off. His breath brushes against your slit and clit as he descends, his lips so dangerously close it sends your body humming with desire.Â
He can smell your fertility; the pheromones emitting from your body intensify his animal instinct to breed. His breathing is erratic now, his body practically vibrating with need to take you, but you still âhold the leash.â
He breaths come out in heavy bursts as he watches you straddle him, knees planted on either side of his hips. You grind down slowly, feeling the friction as you move in slow, sensual circles. His hands latch onto your thighs, his grip harsh and desperate, leaving marks that make your skin tingle. But still, you donât let him seize control. Not yet.
Leaning in, you pepper steamy kisses along his neck, feeling his rapid pulse beneath your lips, your teeth tracing the sharp edge of his jawline. You tenderly bite at his earlobe, and he growls lowly, his hands spasming with despair to grab you, but even then, you wonât allow him to touch you the way he wants.
âThe more you resist, the harder Iâll fuck you,â he warns with a hiss, his voice dark. Itâs a threat and a vow all rolled into one that sends a heat pooling between your thighs.
âPerfect,â you retort in a hushed whisper against the shell of his ear, lips barely brushing the corner of his mouthâteasing but not quite giving in. âThatâs the idea, baby.âÂ
Youâre serving cunt, and he knows it well.
With a slow, calculated slide, you lower yourself down his body, your hands stripping him of his blazer as you go. You let your hands trace over his thighs and the hardened, erected mound in between. Kneeling between his legs, you lock eyes with him, watching the way his breath stutters, anticipation swirling in the air. Slowly, you unbuckle his belt, your fingers stroking his length just enough to drive him nuts as he lets out a shaky gasp.
You pop the button on his jeans and pull down the zipper with your teeth. The second you free him from the tight confines of denim, his aching cock springs out, pulsing with raw desire for you, the fabric of his boxers barely able to contain him.
You glance up at him again with a smug smile before leaning down, your lips brushing along his head. His hips buck instinctively, a ragged groan tearing from his throat. But you take your time, taunting him with light flicks of your tongue.Â
Finally, you wrap your lips around him, licking his sensitive red tip with the end of your tongue. You swirl it around and lap up the shiny little pearls of precum that keep seeping out in his pent-up arousal. âF-fuuuck, Y/N. Youâre gonna make me blow in a sec,â he grunts out with a hitched voice as you take his whole size in your mouth.Â
Your eyes flash up at him, filled with mischief as you take him deeper, your lips stretching to fit his full size. âIsnât that the point?â you murmur, your voice on a seductive octave. âI want you to cum hard... fucking hard all over me.â
Your fingers trace the thick vein along the underside of his shaft before squeezing his hardness and pumping with a fast and firm tempo. Your hand works in sync with your mouth as you suck the upper half of his delicious cock, pulling him in and out, each movement making him gasp and buckle uncontrollably.
His head falls back, eyes screwed shut, muscles tensing. Some inaudible drabble slips off him as he thrusts into your mouth. Pools of saliva are pouring out of the edges of your lips, your eyebrows knitted together as you keep gagging at his cock hitting the back of your throat. You push further, your lips tight around him as you meet his gaze once more, your eyes wild with intensity. His fingers weave into your hair, but he doesnât force youâhe doesnât have to. Youâre in the saddle tonight, guiding him closer to his magical release.
Your hand reaches for his, fingers intertwining as your head bobs up and down on him, earning little moans of delight from his chest. Heâs a hot mess; trembling under the weight of the pleasure youâre generously giving him as you slide your mouth down his dick, your cheeks hollowed in a blend of sensual sucks and frantic pumps.Â
The sound of you gagging, the wet slurp of your lips, and the way you glance up at him so innocently, brow furrowed with effort, has him reeling. âAhh, yeah, keep going,â he breathes out, biting his bottom lip.
He gets a good yet gentle grasp of your hair, thrusting into your mouth in shallow, desperate strokes, but you maintain control, building him up slowly, methodically. He adores your lips, especially the way they loop around his dick and release these mewling sounds against it.
But now, his whole body is shuddering, his cock jerking inside, and you can feel the tell-tale sign heâs about to bust his load in your mouth. The blood rushes to his dick, draining any sane thought and cell in his brain, leaving him driven only by his primal instinct and craving for climax.
You slide onto his throbbing cock once more, gobbling on it like the insatiable whore you are. He presses your head down and keeps you there for a few seconds. As you detach from his member to draw a breath, his body immediately locks up, his abs contracting, and thenâheâs there.Â
His head snaps back as he erupts shivering whimpers of your name, painting your face with copious amounts of his thick, white, and deliciously salty cum, his release spilling over your lips.Â
You open your mouth, tongue stretched out, catching the last drops as you pump him, milking every ounce of his release. His cum drips down your chin, and you let your fingers swipe off the remnants from your face, licking them off slowly, savouring the taste. Nothing goes to waste as you look up at him, lips wet, cheeks flushed with the aftermath of his orgasm.
âYouâre one hungry bitch, arenât you?â he rasps, his voice strained, still shaky from the intensity of his high. He laughs weakly, dragging his thumb across your cheek with a tender caress, though his hard-on still convulses, not quite ready to soften. He winces as he tries to adjust himself, zipping up his jeans with difficulty, but the look of satisfaction on his face is unmistakable.
You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, licking your lips as you flash him a sly, knowing smirk. His chest rises and falls heavily, his face reddish, eyes droopy, still lost in the haze of afterglow.Â
Without wavering your eyes from him, you crawl up and climb to his lap, feeling your pussy drip with every inch of his skin that presses against you. He ogles your naked torso like a dog drooling over the bone. You position yourself just right, his semi-clothed swollen tip nudging against your slippery entrance.
âI am hungry for you, baby,â you purr with a pout as your fingertips draw lazy circles over the ridges of his abs. His eyes darken, filled with a renewed lust as he watches you, licking his lips like a predator eyeing its prey.
Letting out a dark, throaty chuckle, he wastes no timeâhe hammers his lips against yours, shoving his tongue deep into your mouth and kissing you with reckless abandon. His hands greedily paw at your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers, tugging them just hard enough to make you moan against his lips.Â
The arousal between you is electric as your body grinds against his, the friction sending sparks flying through you both; itâs like static rubbing off against each other, and you are about to feel yourself short circuit any minute.Â
His hands hook around your ass cheeks before delivering a sharp, stinging slap that makes you yelp in pleasure, the sound echoing through the room. You press your lips harder against his with a mewl, tongues tangling.
âEvan,â you hush out between sloppy kisses, barely coherent amidst loud teeth smacking and clashing together. All thanks to his fingers dipping between your legs, teasing your clit with maddening eights as he grins victoriously, knowing heâs got you right where he wants you.
âMy slutâs ready for me?â he hums, giving your ass another smack, the sound of flesh against flesh making you quiver with delight. Your hips swerve on his raging boner, the body-against-body friction igniting an ever-powerful spark within you both. To say youâre a âmereâ tease for him is an understatement.Â
âYouâre doing so good, my baby girl,â he gruffs, and his rough, veiny hands glide possessively toward your rocking waist as you begin to rub yourself against his thigh, slowly... teasingly. Every roll of your hips has him biting his lip, his eyes glued to the way your body moves against him.
âYouâre in night care, baby boy, remember?â you hush, your voice laced with dominance as you lift your hips, fingers deftly undoing his trousers again. Your hand wraps around his cock, positioning him at your slick slit. Slowly, achingly slow, you sink down onto him, inch by inch. The stretch forces a moaning gasp out of you as your body adjusts to accommodate his size. Fiery electricity surges through you both, and he hisses watching as your pulsating pussy desperately tries to swallow his cock.
His hands tighten on your hips as you take him deeper, your nails digging into his biceps when he bottoms out, filling you completely. The fullness makes you shudder, your breath leaving you in a jagged burst as his tip presses snugly against your cervix. The deep groan that escapes his throat vibrates through your body, making you clench around him involuntarily, his hips stilling cautiously.
You start to move, rolling your hips in slow, languid circles, setting a rhythm thatâs equal parts torture and bliss for both. His hands grip you harder, leaving faint red imprints on your flushed flesh, but he doesnât push or pullâheâs letting you have the upper hand in riding him, his eyes dark and hungry as he admires you, mouth parted. The way heâs looking at you though? Like youâre a goddess descending from the heavens just for him. Oh, that does something to you.
âLook at you, baby. So fucking gorgeous, taking me like that,â he murmurs, pride and desire dripping from every word. A crooked smile is etched on his face hearing the sloshing whines squawk out of your poor needy folds as they cling to his cock. Every thrust, every grind, every little whimper from your lips makes his large member throb inside you, stretching you deliciously as you plop up and down on him.
You lean down, sealing your lips in a hungry, desperate kiss, your tongues twirling in a messy dance. Itâs all teeth and moans again as he hits that sweet spot deep inside. Itâs the type of kiss that makes time stop, like nothing else exists except for the raw, primitive connection between you two.Â
His hands trail up your bare back, fingers tangling in your hair, keeping you close as you grind down harder. Your bodies move in sync, perfectly attuned to each other, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you with every movement. His eyes dart down to your bouncing breasts and toned stomach, but you quickly grab his jaw, tilting his head up to meet your gaze. âNu-uh,â you whisper against his lips, your voice tinged with authority. âEyes on mine, boy.â
He lets off a hearty chuckle, even going so far as to wriggle your ass back against him. âYou feel so damn amazing, baby,â he huffs, voice rough with desire, talking over your whiny babbles. He cranes his neck to kiss the edge of your jaw before tenderly nipping at the skin.
Panting heavily, you exhale, âI could do this all night.â Your hips move faster, sliding up and down his thick length, the friction sending bolts of euphoria through you. His breathing grows ragged, and you can feel the tension rising, winding tighter and tighter. Youâre so softâsweet gummy flesh compressing around him with such ease, wringing him tight like a vice. He chokes when your pussy fluttersâthe way you clamp down on his dick makes his body go slack and his eyes roll back.
He lets out a low groan, barely holding himself together as your walls squeeze around him. âThaaatâs it, hngh. This pussy knows itâs place,â he grouses, and your eyes widen, realising the shift in dynamicâheâs reclaimed control, already winning ground, sis. Before you know it, his plumpish tip drills further between each corner of your dripping cunt. Your small sobs amplify as he starts to move beneath you, his hips thrusting up harder, making your entire body quake with each deep pound.
âI love fucking you so much,â he grunts, nearly whining, his head tilting back as his cock jerks inside you.
Before you can fully catch your breath, Evanâs grip tightens on your hips. With one fluid motion, he lifts you off him, his arms hook beneath your thighs. You gasp, caught off guard, your body hanging in his grasp as he stands up, practically growling with primal need.
âYouâre mine now,â he says, his voice low and dangerous, sending a bolt of excitement straight down your spine.
Without hesitation, he spins you around, carrying you across the room, your legs instinctively bundling around his waist. Youâre in such a sweet, sexual brain fog that it takes you a second to get whatâs going on. With one swift movement, he sweeps his arm across the dining table, sending glasses, cutlery, and whatever else is there crashing to the floor in a chaotic symphony of clatters.
âEvan!â You giggle dazedly, hands clasping on his shoulders as he sets you down on the table, the cold wood against your back making you shiverâbut not nearly as much as the fire blazing in his eyes.
He leans over you and shushes you with a kiss, his lips brushing against yours as he pushes your legs apart. âIâm not done with you yet.â
You donât have time to argueânot that you want to. He grabs your hips, yanking you to the very edge of the table, his body wedged firmly between your legs. Thereâs no remorse in his eyesâjust pure, animalistic desire. One hand snakes under your ass, the other glides down your left thigh, lifting it effortlessly over his broad shoulder. The way he leans down and looks at you now, almost in slow motion... gosh. Itâs like youâre the only thing heâs ever needed⊠like nothing else matters but taking you right here, right now, and it sets your entire body on fire.
He wants to smash, and heâll get it.
The scent of your cunt is intoxicating, stirring every primal instinct inside Evan that he knows he must keep in check. He draws his hips back slowly, only his tip nestling inside you, then jams just once inside you. Your whole body jumps at the impact, your pleading eyes boring deep into his, a breathy hum punched out of you. He pulls back and slams forward again, growling through his teeth. Your pillowy walls are cuddling him, his heavy balls aching to be drained, eager to breed the fertile womb his tip is wedged against.
His hands roam up your thighs, grasping you like he canât get enough. With each slow, deliberate stroke, he sinks deeper into you, your body arching off the table in response. The sensation of him rutting in and out of your sobbing sex is overwhelmingâevery movement has your breath hitching, your fingers clutching the edge of the table, desperate for some kind of anchor.
Your orgasm is building again, fast and intense. As the pressure inside you give way to climax, tears cascade down your burning cheeks, your features contorted in ecstasy.Â
âE-Evan, I canât take it! T-too much!â
He smirks, shaking his head. âSay please, baby,â he grits out, his voice low and commanding. His hips thrust into yours harder, making you lose all sense of logic. Your mind is blank, mouth hanging open, unable to form words as the pleasure consumes you.
âP-please,â a pained mewl tumbles out of you, and that single word tips him off the edge. His hips stutter, and with a series of deep thrusts along with a carnal chant of âah, ah, ah, ahâ pouring from his lips, he gushes inside youâcreamy gooey ropes of cum dribble into you, not missing at all.
Heâs panting heavily, hips jerking involuntarily as he empties himself, filling you to the brim with thick, sticky cum.
His groans of satisfaction blend with your breathy moans as you cling to him, feeling his weight stick against your skin like itâs adhesive. You bite into the soft skin of his neck, muffling your whimpers as he continues to thrust lazily, drawing out every last bit of his orgasm.
âCome for me,â he demands, his voice low and raspy, each word filled with the same raw desire thatâs coursing through your veins. âI wanna feel you.â
Thatâs itâthe words, the intensity, the feeling of him completely owning your body, claiming you in a way that makes your head spinâhave you on a chokehold. You suck in lungfuls of air as the incoming pangs of orgasmic waves smash over you with impossible force. You canât hold back the loud moans spilling from your lips, your body arching up and writhing beneath him as you come hard, your walls spasming around his cock.
He presses his forehead to yours, his hand gently stroking your cheek, his breath hot against your lips. Your body convulses uncontrollably in his arms as he rides out your climax with you, his cock still throbbing inside your over-sensitive core.Â
As you come down, your breaths laboured and uneven, he buries his head to your chest, his mouth warm against your skin as his kisses travel down to your boobs, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples. Each subtle touch sends aftershocks of pleasure through you, your body still buzzing from the intensity of it all.
You huff, a breathless laugh escaping your lips. âYouâre a menace, you know that?â you whisper, still trying to catch your breath. But heâs not done yet. You giggle softly as he moves lower, planting tingly smoochies to your skin, his breath like a warm breeze against your thighs.
âYou smell like honey⊠I wanna taste you,â he murmurs, nuzzling his nose into the soft curve of your inner thigh. His fingers part your sloping folds, spreading you open for him as he watches the glistening cum leak from your swollen pussy. His primitive need to eat you up tests his sense of control.Â
His tongue plunges between your labia, stretching them up with a slow and deliberate lick. Your thighs quiver around his head in the aftershocks of your climax, straining moans and semi-shrieks falling from your lips as his tongue dives deeper between your folds. The wet sound of him slurping up the mix of your juices and his cum is obscene, but it only drives you wilder, especially as he mumbles the moto, âY/N... Thank you, thank you, thank you.âÂ
Your fingers lace in his drenched thick, curly brown locks, holding him in place. The untamed animal inside him is finally sated, fed well at the meal between your thighs. His teeth sink ever-so-lightly into the plump pout of your lips, and you canât stop the desperate little wails flipping from your throat.Â
Your eager pussy canât help but drool. Streams of your slick cascade down between the crevices of your thighs and coat the entirety of his fingers. With a rosy flat tongue, he pads and licks you clean, taking every few seconds to pull his fingers inâonly to push them right back out. As he re-enters, he pokes against your g-spot again, and again, and againâŠ
Thatâs all it takes for the sharp twisting coil to snap within you for the second time, and your thighs turbulently shake within his feeble grasp. âFuck, fuck,â you choke out, your breath coming in hollow bursts as you feel his hushed praises and loving words ghost against your clit. You canât stay still for the life of youâitâs as if every muscle in your body rips apart once you come into his mouth, your jaw slackened and your eyes widened.
âOhmygodohmygod,â you ramble, and Evanâs still flicking his tongue against your sobbing slit.
Youâre making a mess out of him, and heâs still eating it upâthe dedication. His chin got such a pretty glimmer of shine all thanks to your slick running down. With an echoing pop, he slides his fingers off your pussy, stretching his digits further apart just to see how your sap glues against them. The shaking from your multiple orgasmic release keeps on, the ringing in your ears never subsiding.Â
âMmph, Y/N. So beautiful,â he cries out, his voice cracking with emotion as he presses a kiss to your swollen, sensitive lips. Your sweet slickness smears against his stubble even more, but he couldnât care less. All that matters is you, lying there beneath him, glowing with the outcome of your pleasure.Â
Evanâs gaze lingers on you for a long moment, his chest still heaving as he melts in the sight of youâflushed, trembling, thoroughly wrecked from the intensity of what just happened. His hand gently strokes your thigh, trailing up and down in soothing circles as the both of you come down from the high together.
Propping your weight on your elbows, you stare down on him, a lazy grin playing at the corners of your lips. You pull him up for a sloppy, rough kiss. Your fingers pinch on his well-defined jaw as he rests on top of her. You can feel his stiff length press against her stomach, and it feels great.Â
You reach up to brush his damp hair from his forehead. âYou really know how to leave a girl breathless,â you mumble teasingly, though your voice is barely above a whisper, still catching.
A deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, and he leans into your touch, nuzzling his cheek against your palm. âYou have no idea what you do to me,â he whispers, and you giggle softly, the sound light and airy.
You lay there for a while, the after-sex haze still buzzing through your veins. Evanâs sprawled out on the sofa, shirtless. His hair is all tousled, looking like some kind of model from a cologne adïżœïżœexcept sexier, and definitely more accessible. You watch him, feeling a dopey grin spread across your face. This man⊠God, this man.
You pull yourself up, snuggling into that familiar blue blanket from the edge of the couchâthe one you always steal when itâs movie night, or when youâre feeling cosy after a particularly intense workout (aka âfuck timeâ).
âYou look like a smurf burrito,â Evan quips, his hand lazily draped across his abs as he watches you pace around the room.
You snort, cuddling deeper into the blanket. âBetter than looking like a sweaty, shirtless disaster.â You throw him a wink and a brow waggle, but honestly, the view is prime real estate right now. That man should charge admission.
He smirks smugly, running a hand through his messy curls. âSweaty, shirtless disaster, huh? I was under the impression you were enjoying said disaster inside you just a few minutes ago.â
âTouchĂ©,â you giggle as you flop down the sofa, letting your head fall back against the armrest. âBut the juryâs still out on whether I enjoyed it or tolerated it.â
âOh, is that so?â His eyebrow quirks, and that playful gleam you love so much flickers back in his eyes. He leans forward, crawling towards you on the sofa with that predator-like grace, his hands landing on either side of your bundled-up self.
âMaybe.â You bite your lip, trying to keep a straight face, but your heart's already doing flips at the way heâs looking at you. Damn, those eyes.
âHmm. Well, maybe I should justââ Evan dips down, his lips grazing your ribcage, making you gasp. You wriggle away playfully, pulling the blanket up higher as if itâs some kind of armour.
âOkay, okay! I loved it. Five stars on Yelp, glowing review and a side of fries.â Youâre laughing now, barely able to keep up the act.
Evan chuckles triumphantly, that warm, rumbling sound that makes your pulse leap in your throat. âFive stars? Well, that must make me the Michelin Man of love.â
âPlease,â you laugh, âthe only thing youâre qualifying for is most likely to be found with a pizza slice in hand.â
His grin widens, and you can practically see the gears turning in his head. âWell, speaking of pizza, how about we start planning our wedding menu? Iâm thinking pepperoni and extra cheese for the wedding cake. You know, something to make the guests feel like theyâre in a pizzeria.â
You roll your eyes, giggling at his ridiculousness. âSo, pizza-themed wedding, huh? What are we going to serve? Breadsticks as the bouquet?â
âAbsolutely! And the best part? Iâll have a pepperoni ring!â He starts mimicking a ring toss, and you canât help but crack up.
âOh wow, my future husband is a real romantic,â you say, shaking your head in mock disbelief.
But then Evan leans in closer, his expression turning serious, and you feel the air shift. âBut really, I want to make sure I donât just slice into this whole âlife togetherâ thing. I want to do it right. So, how about we order that wedding cake now becauseâŠâ He reaches into his pocket, and your heart skips a beat as he pulls out a small velvet box.
You narrow your eyes in suspicion as you sit up. âWhat are you doing? Is this some kind of prankâ
âWell, not exactly a prank. Unless you think proposing is some kind of joke.â
Your heart stops.
âWhat?â The word barely squeaks out, and youâre pretty sure your brain just exploded. Did heâdid he just say proposing?
Evanâs mouth pulls into this soft smile, and before you know it, heâs dropping to one knee on the sofa. âI mean, Iâve got the ring and all that the protocol requires,â he mutters and your eyes bulge, mouth agape. â...and I donât want to waste another minute from making you my wife!â
Your heart stops.
You leap up from the sofa, shaky hands flying to your mouth, shock flooding your system. The blanket almost slips off, eyes wide and heart pounding like youâre on the worldâs most chaotic and steepest rollercoaster. Did heâdid he also just say wife? âAre you serious?â
âY/N,â he starts, his voice a little shaky but full of that Evan confidence that always makes you feel like the only person in the room, âIâve been through a lot lately. We both have. But the one constant through it allâthrough the tough days and the good ones, the sleepless nights and the mornings I wake up next to youâis that I want every single day to be with you.â
Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, heâs really doing this.
âFrom the moment I saw you in that club, I never looked away. We started off with a bang, quite literally, but Iâve felt like Iâve known you my whole life and won the love lottery. Youâre my jackpot. The reason I smileâeven when I feel like Iâve hit every bump on the road. You make even the ordinary feel extraordinary, and I want to make this last forever.â
Your eyes are already welling up, and you try to blink back the tears because oh my God, heâs really doing this. Your pulse hammers so loud you swear he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.
âSo here I am, making it official, ready to take a gamble on the biggest bet of my life. Will you marry me and make me the luckiest man on the planet?â He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring youâve ever seenâa subtle and stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.
You canât even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart throbs so hard, youâre sure itâll burst out of your chest.
âYou drive me crazy in the best way possible. Youâre my best friend, my partner in crime, my favourite person to order burgers with. I want to spend the rest of my life making you laugh, making you mad, and maybe every now and then... sweeping plates off the table to get to you faster.â He smirks, his eyes twinkling.
âEvan!â you gasp, half-laughing through your tears, remembering the chaos from a few minutes ago.
He chuckles heartily, but thereâs something so tender in his expression now. âSo, will you do me the honour of marrying me?â He opens the little box, revealing the most beautiful ring youâve ever seenâa simple yet stunning band with a sparkling diamond that seems to catch the soft light of the room just right.
You canât even form words. Your mouth opens and closes like a fish, and your heart is pounding so hard youâre sure he can hear it. And then it hits you. Yes.
âYes!â you shout, your voice breaking with joy as you toss the blanket aside and fling yourself into his arms, knocking him backward onto the sofa. He laughs as you straddle his waist, hugging him tight, tears of joy streaming down your face.
âI love you,â you whisper breathlessly, kissing him hard, your heart swelling with so much love it feels like it might burst.
âI love you too,â he murmurs, smiling up at you as you kiss him again, both of you tangled in this beautiful, overwhelming moment.
He slips the ring onto your finger, and you hold your hand up, marvelling at how perfectly it fitsâhow perfectly it all fits.
And as you both lie there, wrapped up in each other and the ridiculousness of the moment, Evan chuckles. âSo, Smurf burrito, looks like youâre stuck with me for life.â
You laugh, smothering his face with smoochies of aggressive cuteness magnitude. âLucky me. Now... about those burgers? Iâm still hungry.â
Evan grins, pulling you closer. âFirst, how about I show you just how well I can speak your love language?â
âBurgers first, then more disaster sex,â you tease, giggling as he tries to tickle you.
âDeal,â he whispers, stealing another kiss, because honestly, in this moment, youâre the best thing on the menu.
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Taglist: sillysillygyal, junkie4weezer, frankiesweird, divinerulerz, nickrhodeslittledarling, @babymazz
@evanchantingpeters â All rights reserved. Please do not modify, translate, or plagiarise my content.
Announcement
This might not be a forever goodbye, and who knows, a spinoff of this series might pop up someday, but this is going to be the final part, yâall. Iâll admit, I sometimes feel like Iâm navigating through a tiny room with towering walls in this digital space; like my creative expression is being restricted and policed, and I cannot fully communicate or channel my âwriting persona,â if you will, in here. Still, every bit of your love and support has made it worth it. Iâve poured so much into this world, and Evan, well⊠heâs been an incredible muse through it all. So, thanks a bunch, truly. xx
#evan peters fanfic#evan peters fandom#evan peters fluff#evan peters imagine#ahs murder house#evan peters smut#ahs fandom#evan peters x reader#evan peters x y/n#evan peters x you#evan peters x female reader#tate langdon#ahs cult#kit walker imagine#kit walker#kai anderson imagine#kai anderson#kai anderson smut#fanfic#tate langdon x reader#tate langdon x y/n#tate langdon x you#warren lipka#kit walker x y/n#peter maximoff#colin zabel#evan peters dahmer#smut#stan bowes#evan peters
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Part 5 of Butcher!Simon x gn!reader Sorry guys this turned out crappy, I'm really unhappy with this one but I hope the next part will be better again. Finally we get to see readers perspective on things. Also name reveal of readers dog, finally. < Part 4 | COD Masterlist | Part 6 >
So thereâs this new butcher. Heâs kind of intimidating but heâs nice. At least youâre pretty sure heâs nice. He rarely speaks but the meat at that shop is the best so you power through the anxiety the big man induces (the first time you caught a glimpse of him you had to hide and gather your nerves before going inside).
God, heâs big. Built like a brick shithouse he looms over you even behind the counter. The fact that Wraith has to wait outside the shop makes you wring your fingers nervously on the regular. Youâre happy that Simon, thatâs what his name tag said, never gives off creep vibes.
Still, stepping into the shop always makes you want to curl in on yourself. Somehow the butcher has a way of taking up the entire room with his presence. The way he stands and moves makes you think he somehow got dominance drilled into his genes. Maybe if you go in often enough some of that will rub off on you, god knows youâd enjoy being a bit intimidating.
When he allows you to bring in Wraith with you, you reconsider. Simon isnât just nice. Heâs kind.
Sure heâs quiet and big and he could snap your neck with one hand (donât think about that, donât think about that) but heâs considerate. The consideration he showed for you also proved that he is scarily observant and youâre not sure you like that.
You hate being observed or looked at. Youâd prefer to be a ghost, existing in the world but not being perceived. But since you donât plan on dying anytime soon you got yourself your own personal bodyguard.
Wraith is the sweetest soul on earth and youâre not sure what you did to find him. He saved you in more ways than one and it seems you saved the scarred and tired dog too.
Being allowed to bring him into the shop with you helps a lot. As big and scary as the butcher is, Wraith could do serious damage to him if he so much as raised a hand against you.
So youâre pretty confident nowadays when you go to buy Wraithâs treats. Over time Simon has grown to be a new part of your routine and you donât mind him anymore. He might be a goddamn intense man but heâs proven himself to be nice (you just pray that your intuition isnât wrong with him).
Youâd even say youâre more or less comfortable around him by now so when you walk in one day and hear one of your favorite songs play you canât contain yourself. Maybe youâre making a fool of yourself in front of the butcher but the way he chuckles immediately soothes you. He doesnât seem to judge you at all.
Still youâd be mortified by yourself (you canât remember the last time you were yourself that much anywhere besides your own four walls) if Simon didnât smile at you behind his mask and oh... His eyes are kind and sparkle lively with mirth; youâve never seen him have an expression like that before.
Suddenly you realize how hidden the man keeps himself. Always behind a mask never any unnecessary movements, always controlled. To see his eyes so expressive is kind of a shock. But itâs a good shock, you decide.
Itâs the first real conversation you have with him and itâs about music. That immediately makes you warm up to him even more. So much so, that you end up admitting that you donât want to go to a concert alone.
Youâve barely recovered from making a fool of yourself and having the first real conversation with the butcher, when he pulls the rug out from under your feet:
âIâm planning on going to that concert, wanna join me? Iâll make sure youâre safe, sweetheart.â
#the sewer writes#simon ghost riley x reader#simon x reader#simon riley x reader#butcher!simon x gn!reader#au#cod x reader
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The Quest for a Second Life - Part 2 - Potions and Magic and Sex, Oh My! (1)
ITACHI x ALPHA!READER
Summary: Porn logic, you quickly discover, is great for your soul and general self-esteem, but rather intensive on your poor heart. Your first day in an erotic pocket dimension and the horny shenanigans are only beginning. Also magic? That shit was the coolest thing you'd ever seen. GN!Dom!Alpha!Reader x Multiple Naruto Characters
Word Count: 8.5k
Warnings: Sexual tension and adult situations, although no explicit sex. GN alpha, but all alphas have penises fyi.
A/N: I decided to split these chapters in two because they were getting very long haha! Not much porn in this one, as it's slightly more slow burn compared to Books 2 and 3. There will be a lot of porn in the second half, but this one just needed that build up imo. It's still too early to say Happy Holidays, but seeing that @omeganronpa is sick right now, I will say 'Get Well Soon!' instead :D I tried to get this finished in time to meet the request for softboi hours lol. I hope everyone enjoys!
Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Epilogue
Waking up when you hadnât been asleep was somehow worse than normal waking up, and considering how much you hated to do that, it was almost impressive.
Your head was fuzzy with disorientation, and your eyes felt glued together with enough grit to pave a driveway. All in all, you felt pretty rough. It took you a few seconds to remember where you were and what was happening, but once you managed to pry open your eyes, met immediately with an unfamiliar ceiling, everything clicked into place. You were inside your first pocket dimension.
The spike of excitement that shot through you was so strong that the grogginess dissipated almost immediately, and any thoughts about snuggling back to sleep fled with it. With some difficulty, you wrestled an arm from the heavy weight of blankets on top of you and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. Free of grit, you were finally able to examine your surroundings.
Your first thought was that youâd somehow fallen into the âAutumn vibesâ Pinterest board that youâd made in the middle of the night that one time when your desire to flee into the woods had been at an all time high. You were bundled up on a sofa in a living room dominated by a gorgeous stone fireplace that held a pleasantly crackling fire, various fire related tools and a small amount of wood storage.
There were floor-to-ceiling shelves everywhere, filled to bursting with artwork, old books, trinkets and pots of unidentifiable but colourful liquids and powders. Dried flowers and large, green house plants dotted every corner of the room, surrounded by candles of every shape and colour you could imagine, all of them resting on a collection of layered, patterned rugs.
Along with the sofa you were laying on, the seating consisted of a cosy armchair in a deep burgundy colour, and a little window seat filled to the brim with a mismatch of cushions and blankets.
The entire room was bathed in a warm, orange glow. It was utterly enchanting.
Distantly, over the crackle of the fire, you could hear someone humming from behind one of the doors. The voice was deep, but not excessively so, and accompanied by the occasional clanging of pots and pans.
That door must lead to the kitchen, you thought.
This little cottage felt so incredibly real and lived in. You had wondered if there would be some kind of giveaway that this was a story premise based in a fake, manufactured world, but so far you had found nothing. It was so much better than you could have dreamed.
That didnât mean that you didnât have questions though. Dazzled though you may have been, you needed to know a little more before you came face to face with the first omega. James had said you could communicate with her mentally, so first things first, you needed to figure out how to do that.
âJames?â You tried using your internal monologue to speak, just with a greater emphasis and purpose than normal. âCan you hear me?â
âHuman alpha,â James acknowledged, her voice sounding just as loud as your own in your head. You flinched a little at the strange sensation of a foreign presence invading your mind. Despite it being vaguely weird that someone could hear your purposeful thoughts, you were grateful to have a guide in an unfamiliar world.
âI was wondering a bit about free will,â you said, pausing as you tried to figure out how to phrase the question. James spoke before you could continue.
âIâm not allowed to give humans any information about free will, religion, the afterlife, aliens, alternate realties, time travel, dead people, living people, or the secret behind the correlation between motherhood and the ability to find objects that accidentally fall into micro pocket dimensions.â
âNo, I meant like in these stories.â You stopped, processing what James had just said. âWait, motherhood and micro pocket dimensions? Is that why my friendâs mum was able to find the remote in four seconds after we searched for it for three hours that one time?â
âWhat part of âIâm not allowed to discuss such topics with humansâ did you not understand, human alpha?â
You mentally shook your head, returning to your original point, âI was wondering how much free will the people in these books have. Do they have to follow a story, or a script? Will they fall in love me with no matter what I do or say?â
âThese stories are premises,â James explained. You could so vividly imagine her face as she spoke. âThey set the world, the rules of the universe, the people and their backstories, their motivations and inclinations, but they donât provide a script. These characters are just as real as the people from your world by most interdimensional regulations and definitions. They have inclinations towards certain behaviours, but that is no different from your world, yes? People are defined by their experiences and behave in ways that fit their psychological profile and motivations, that does not mean they have no agency.â
You let out a relieved sigh, âThatâs good. I was worried that theyâd be forced to do things with me by the narrative.â
âRest assured, human, even in an erotica, if a person chooses to copulate with you, they will have done so of their own volition.â You snorted at her phrasing, but her words were greatly comforting.
âWait, does that mean they can reject me all together?â you asked, a sudden realisation popping up.
âTechnically yes. It is fairly rare⊠Although it does tend to happen more frequently with humans who choose erotica stories for some reason.â
Many, many people popped to mind as she said that, from incel forums to the creepy people youâd been unlucky enough to encounter in real life. You were certain that, given the opportunity, most of them would jump at a chance to live as the protagonist of an erotica novel. You were also certain that theyâd immediately feel entitled to nonstop sex and a whole manner of other creepy things. It was honestly quite amusing to imagine them getting rejected by the âfictionalâ love interests they so desperately clung to, and you wished for a moment that you could have had Jamesâ role of fly on the wall to those rejections.
Personally, you werenât worried about coming across as super creepy and you certainly werenât going to be forcing anyone into anything. You were confident that, with two attempts, both literally designed to push you and a love interest together, youâd find some kind of fulfilling relationship.
The humming from the kitchen got louder all of a sudden and you wondered if youâd find that relationship with this mysterious omega.
âNow, human, I will run through the general premise of this world to aid you in your first interaction.â Even as a disembodied voice, it somehow felt appropriate when James cleared her throat. âYou are in the world of âPotions and Magic and Sex, Oh My!â. You have taken the role of MC, a mysterious alpha that was rescued by the bookâs love interest, Itachi, unconscious and in the middle of a snowstorm.â
âWait, what was he doing out in a snowstorm?â
âPlease try to remain focused, human alpha. MC, struggling with recalling any memory of who they are or how they got there, relies on Itachi to brew a potion to retrieve their memories. Shenanigans ensue, although the exact type of shenanigans will depend on how you conduct yourself. You have a great amount of power to affect the story, especially considering the MC is an amnesiac. As long as you account for how they ended up in the woods, the backstory is fully yours to fashion. But I advise you to heed my warning.â
You remembered it loud and clear. When picking a backstory, you were going to keep one acronym in mind: MLHH (Money, Love, Health, Happiness). That should serve your needs well. Regardless, you were glad you had time to think about the details while you were playing the amnesiac role.
The weird feeling of presence in your mind faded as James fell silent. You took a deep breath. You could do this. You were going to have fun with a pretty omega, treat him with respect, see real magic (and real porn logic), and all of that would be contained in your dream witchy cottage. As long as you avoided complete disaster, this should be one of the greatest things youâve ever done.
It was only when the sound of the kitchen door unlatching reached your ears that you realised the humming had stopped.
Your head snapped to the side and your eyes landed on the most beautiful omega youâd ever met. This must be Itachi.
Itachi had long, dark hair that was drawn back into a low ponytail, although heâd left a decent amount loose and framing his pale, heart-shaped face. His features were sharp, especially his eyes, and although he moved gracefully, he also seemed to command attention with a presence that felt both strangely out of place and intimately natural for him.
He wore a cosy collection of warm-coloured, loose clothing, including simple brown trousers and a woollen jumper, finished with a pair of simple, black house slippers. The jumper was sliding slightly off of one shoulder, revealing an extra sliver of bare skin that was strangely hypnotic.
âYouâre awake! I was just debating about grabbing some smelling salts,â he said, his intense brown eyes focused directly on you. His voice was as pretty as the rest of him.
Quite frankly, he was stunning from head to toe. You werenât even slightly surprised that he was the romantic interest.
The man (the witch, you reminded yourself, a little incredulously) approached you until he was perched on the edge of the sofa at your waist. Without hesitation, he reached out a hand towards your head and rested the back of his palm on your forehead. He felt neither hot nor cold, and a moment later he withdrew his hand, staring down at you stoically.
âHow are you feeling? Any nausea? Black spots in your vision? Can you move all of your fingers?â
âNo, no, andâ -you wiggled your fingers under the blanket- âyes. Iâm feeling fine, just a little groggy from waking up.â
âThatâs to be expected. Youâve been asleep for at least twenty-five hours. I found you unconscious at the base of a tree in the middle of a storm last night. It was so cold; I was worried youââ he cut himself off with a shake of his head. âThat doesnât matter. Youâre safe now.â
âAnd I appreciate that,â you said, sending him what you hoped was a charming smile. âI prefer having all my fingers attached generally.â
âAs most people do,â he replied, solemnly, not seeming to pick up on the joke. You almost made a woosh noise, until you remembered that for him, that had likely been a very genuine concern after finding you, so you let the joke die.
âWhy were youââ the word caught in your throat, and you suddenly began to cough, only now realising how hoarse your throat was. Right, youâd been asleep for over a day.
âOh, you must be thirsty,â Itachi said, frowning. You were overcome with a desire to make him smile. âOne moment.â
You were expecting him to get up and fetch a glass from the kitchen, so when he suddenly began leaning towards you, reaching over your head towards the side table, you were a little surprised. Â That was nothing however to the surprise you felt when he inadvertently gave you a rather spectacular look straight down his shirt. Your coughing spiked and your face warmed.
âHere.â Itachi leant back down, a glass of water clutched in his left hand. With his right hand, he helped you sit up before handing you the glass. You grabbed it and drained the whole glass immediately. The cool reprieve from the irritating scratching was a welcome feeling. Almost welcome enough to make you forget about Itachiâs blush pink nipples. Almost.
Realistically, you werenât sure how could you forget a view so enticing. No, stop it, brain, now was not the time. Except⊠this was the time. This was a pocket dimension based around porn logic and that was your first taste of it.
Wow, who knew porn logic was so delightfully pink and round, you thought giddy.
âAre you feeling better?â Itachi asked suddenly, knocking you out of your thoughts. His jumper was firmly back in the place it was supposed to be.
âUh, yeah, totally fine.â You knew you must have had a stupid, dazed grin on your face, but knowing about it didnât make it any easier to stop. âYouâre very pretty, by the way.â
Itachi froze, and for the first time since youâd met him, his composure slipped, a tiny, almost unnoticeable blush bloomed high on his cheeks. It was a similar colour to hisâNope, going to stop you right there, brain.
âOh.â He didnât say anything else, only staring at you, wide eyed. You were surprised by his surprise. Surely this man was more than used to people fawning and falling all over him; he was objectively beautiful. Although, living in the woods like this, was there anyone else to tell him that he was beautiful? âThank you.â
The blush lingered for a few more moments before vanishing. Any amount that you had succeeded in flustering him was now locked behind that stoic, but not unkind, face.
âI need you to give me the name of someone I can contact for you, someone willing to escort you home and stop you wandering alone in the woods during a winter storm.â You could feel the gentle rebuke in his words. âI have methods of contacting the nearest towns and villages, I just need to know who to send for. Who should I ask for?â
Right, this was your first attempt at properly engaging in the story, in your character. You had almost forgotten that you werenât fully yourself in this world. At least your supposed amnesia would be an excellent shield as you came to terms with this experience.
âI donât know,â you said simply, trying hard to look baffled.
Itachi sent you a sympathetic frown, âYou donât have anyone to contact? Then tell me where you live, and I can escort you home myself.â
âNo, I mean, I donât remember.â
There was a beat of silence.
âYou donât remember?â he eventually repeated, brows furrowed.
âI- I donât know where I came from, who I am, or why I was in those woods.â This wasnât your best acting work, for sure, but it seemed like enough to convince Itachi, whose frown deepened even further.
âHow is that possible?â Itachi murmured, mostly to himself. He scanned your face but didnât seem to find anything of note. âDo you remember anything at all?â
âOnly basic things, like my name and how to eat and drink.â To prove your point, you gave him your name and rough age.
You watched as Itachiâs frown melted into something a little more determined. His eyes took on a hard edge, and despite his gentle kindness, you acknowledged that he had the potential to be rather intimidating.
âI will help you,â he said firmly, looking you straight in the eyes. âIâm a witch; I can find some way to recover your memories and get you home, I promise. Until then, you are more than welcome to stay with me.â
He really was a kind man, you thought, âfictionalâ or not.
âThank you,â you said earnestly. âIt means a great deal to me that youâre willing to help.â
Itachi smiled politely as he stood, âThen I will start searching for a spell or potion that can help. First though, you must be hungry. I think itâs time for some dinner.â
Oh, this was going to get you good; you had such a thing for pretty people cooking for you. There was just something about it that satisfied that part of yourself that wanted to be doted on. You were going to enjoy this. Actually, you should probably check one important thing first.
âJames? Does this body have any allergies or intolerances of its own? Or did I just bring mine with me?â
âNeither. Allergies and intolerances are inconvenient for erotica stories and thus do not exist.â
No allergies or intolerances at all?
âJames, this is the best day of my life and I want to kiss you on the mouth.â
âYou are supposed to kiss the omega right in front of you, human alpha, are you confused?â
You didnât reply. Itachi started walking back to the door heâd come from. Just as he reached the doorway, he turned back to you.
âOh! My name is Itachi,â he said. You knew that, of course, but it was still nice to hear him say it. âTake your time getting up, Iâll set the table and finish up the cooking.â He disappeared round the corner, although he didnât shut the door behind him.
Ignoring his instructions to take your time, you cheerfully threw back your blankets and stood up, taking a second to shake out your limbs and run your fingers through your hair. You looked exactly as you remembered yourself looking, just dressed in different clothes. You were wearing a very simple long-sleeved shirt and pair of trousers that looked like they would fit in with whatever pseudo time period this was. You wondered briefly if these were your clothes, or if Itachi had dressed you in something of his. The clothes did seem to fit you too well to be borrowed, but you werenât sure if porn logic made everything that much more convenient. No amount of convenience with clothes would ever trump convenience with food. You had no allergies or intolerances, and youâd never develop them in the future either!
The living room looked a bit smaller now that you were standing, but it only added to the cosy vibe. You took a deep breath, savouring the smell of the firewood burning and whatever was cooking in the kitchen mingling in the air. You followed Itachi into the kitchen, feeling like you could skip with glee.
Stepping in, you were grateful you had socks protecting your feet from the stone floor. The kitchen was small, containing only the necessary kitchen supplies and a tiny, two-person table, although through the window you could see hints of an outdoor kitchen with a fire pit and grill, and a much larger dining table, probably for use in the summer. The clutter from the living room continued into the kitchen, with pots of wooden spoons, pans and dried flowers hanging on the walls, and an impressive spice cabinet that took up almost the entire back wall.
It also looked like something straight out of your Autumn Pinterest board.
Itachi was at the oven, stirring a pot of something that you couldnât see.
âIt smells great,â you said earnestly, sliding up beside him and peering into the pot. It seemed like some kind of stew.
Itachi turned, and greeted you with what seemed like his first proper, genuine smile, âYou think so?â
âI do. Thank you so much for cooking.â
You werenât quite confident enough to stake your life on it, but you were pretty sure that, if the pot on the stove wasnât bubbling so loudly, youâd have been able to hear him purring. The way he suddenly just so happened to be pressing one hand to his mouth only supported your theory. Clearly, this omega hadnât been praised enough in his life. Thank goodness you were here to rectify that.
âIs there anything I can do to help? I can lay the table if you tell me where everything is.â
Itachi cleared his throat (and you could swear there was a hint of a purr in there!), âNo, thatâs alright, just sit down, Iâll handle it.â
âAre you sure, becauseââ
Itachi clicked his fingers and out of one of the cabinets floated two bowls and two glasses. You watched, completely stunned as they floated to the table and set themselves neatly in front of two of the chairs. Itachi then waved his hand at one of the drawers and two forks and two spoons did the same as the dishware, laying themselves neatly alongside the bowls.
Magic.
Real life magic.
Holy shit, you hadnât thought about the fact that he was a witch, not really. Magic was real. Itachi just laid the table with magic. You sat down heavily in one of the chairs, mouth hanging open slightly.
âJames?!â you mentally asked, desperately.
âI cannot kiss you, human alpha.â
âWhat? No! James, is it possible for me to learn magic in this world?â Please say yes, please say yes.
âYes, everyone in this world has the ability to learn at least some kind of magic. It will not become clear how much magic you have until you are actually apart of this world, but I should imagine you will at least be capable of brewing potions.â
Yep, this was definitely the best day of your life. Or afterlife? Either way, if you picked this world, youâd be able to learn at least some magic. That counteracted a lot of the downsides of living without modern technology that you had been considering. Not having modern medicine was moot if potions were just as effective. Not having electric heaters was fine if warming charms existed.
Itachi knocked you out of your thoughts when he came over with the pot and began gently ladling the stew into your bowl. You would explore magic later, right now, was time to eat.
âŠ
You had eaten most of the stew in a silence that neither you nor Itachi felt compelled to break, although you had noticed him sneaking glances at you every so often. The stew tasted homey, hearty, slightly sweet, and all around delicious.
âJames, I am so happy right now.â
âI did not realise humans were so passionate about stew. I will make a note.â
You shook you head lightly, vaguely amused by Jamesâ shenanigans.
Even with the display of magic earlier, things felt weirdly normal. Baring the nip slip from earlier, there hadnât been any other porn logic that youâd noticed. It was kind of a relief. Although you were still incredibly excited to be horny on main forever, being able to just breathe and enjoy a nice meal was good too. No one wanted to have sex shoved in their faces 24 hours a day.
You attracted yet another glance from Itachi, but this time, you noticed that he had a tiny splash of stew at the corner of his mouth. Despite just finishing establishing your relief that porn wasnât going to be shoved in your face, you felt immediately compelled to test some porn logic. You didnât want to ruminate on what that rapid 180 mental turn might suggest about your psyche.
If porn logic was at play, could you just⊠reach and wipe his mouth for him? Would he take that positively? You debated on it for a bit, but ultimately decided to try it; you had amnesia for an excuse if he didnât take it well, and it wasnât so creepy that heâd hate you, hopefully. He was your love interest, right? You needed to flirt with him.
âItachi?â you said softly, shuffling your chair slightly towards him. His head snapped up to yours, spoon hovering over his bowl. âYou have a little something.â
Slowly, allowing him plenty of time to reject your advances, you reached a hand out towards his face. Itachi watched you, wide eyed, but didnât move.
Slowly, your thumb made contact with the corner of his soft lips. In what seemed like some kind of automatic impulse, Itachiâs lips fell apart slightly as soon as you touched them. You could feel his hot, stuttering breath, and as you swiped the stew away, you were treated to the smallest flicker of his tongue. You shivered as the wet warmth brushed against you; the atmosphere was electric.
You took in a breath of Itachiâs scent which was suddenly twice as strong. Yeah, you were definitely in an erotica, fuck.
Itachiâs spoon clattered back into his bowl, splashing droplets of stew over the wooden table and shattering the heated moment. Itachi stood suddenly, his chair scraping across the stone.
âI- Iâll wipe up the spill,â he said, rushing to the counter to grab a cloth.
You cleared your throat, trying to hide your smile, âRight, you do that.â
Pretty omega, inviting you to stay in his home, cooking for you, accepting your flirtations. The heat in your stomach was no longer just from the food.
The electricity died as Itachi wiped up the stew and took the bowls in one fell swoop, leaving everything feeling normal. You tried to offer to wash up, but Itachi declined, escorting you back to the sofa âto restâ.
âIâm going to go and check in my study for any information on amnesia. Please make yourself at home, but donât go outside; if you faint in the cold and I donât realise, it could end up worse than last time.â
You were about to argue that you werenât going to drop dead the second he took his eyes off you, (you wanted to see the magical woods you were in!), but the words died when you realised that from Itachiâs perspective you were sick and had already fainted in an inopportune location once before. He was just looking out for you.
âIâll stay inside,â you promised, reluctantly. âBut you have to give me a proper tour of the woods at some point, okay?â
He inclined his head, âOf course. I wonât be long.â He then disappeared through a door on the other side of the living room.
The second he was gone you went back into the kitchen and washed the dishes.
Then, unable to see the woods, and not wanting to be creepily exploring the rest of the house without your host, you found yourself in front of the fire, searching through Itachiâs books. Unfortunately, Itachi seemed to keep all the magic books somewhere else, which wasnât surprising you supposed, but you did manage to find a book on fairytales. How different would this worldâs fairytales be? To be honest, you hadnât expected the world to be so in depth as to have its own fairytales at all.
You flicked through the book for a few minutes, enjoying the illustrations more than anything.
âJames, are any of these stories based in truth in this world?â
âOh, I should think only around half have any significant amount of truth to them.â
âHalf?!â you said mentally, trying not to choke. âIâm in the middle of the woods and vulnerable! What do you mean half of them are real? That big foot esque thing with horns and jagged teeth on page three isnât real though, is it?â
ïżœïżœïżœNot anymore!â James said, as chipper as can be.
âRight,â you said breathlessly. âI think Iâve had enough of reading fairytales actually.â You closed the book, intending to slot it back onto the shelf when a single page fell out and fluttered to the floor, dangerously close to the fire. Fuck, you were left alone for an hour, and you were already wrecking things. You snatched it up off the ground, intending to slip it back inside and not mention it, when you realised that the page didnât look like it belonged to that book at all.
In fact, you held it up closer to your face, it looked like a potion recipe!
ââAmnesia Reversal Potionâ,â you read out loud. âNo way.â What were the odds on finding this? Actually, erotica books didnât normally have complicated plots, so the odds of this literally falling into your lap were probably quite high.
You stood up, recipe in hand, and went to the door that Itachi had left through earlier, âItachi?â You got no response. It was his study, so maybe he wouldnât mind you just poking your head in. You slowly pushed open the door and slipped your head in. âItachi? I think I found something toââ
Oh.
This was his study and his bedroom.
And you had just walked in on him changing.
Itachi jumped in shock, grabbing the nearest blanket and holding it over his chest while you stood frozen in the doorway.
Yep, those beautiful nipples were absolutely haunting your dreams tonight.
âŠ
After many apologies were handed out and the awkward horniness of receiving your second accidental flashing had dissipated somewhat, you and Itachi were sitting in front of the fire together, looking over the potion recipe that youâd found.
It was dark now, and the vicious Winter wind shook the windows and billowed around the chimney. Thankfully, having Itachi pressed against your side was fighting the chill away. The hot chocolate that Itachi had made was helping too, served in mugs carved with runes that kept the delicious drink at the perfect temperature.
You had also been delighted to discover that Itachi wore glasses when reading, and he looked rather adorable when he adjusted the thick, black frames as he scanned the recipe.
Itachi made a considering noise as he went through the ingredient list, âThe potion is simple to make, but has quite a long ingredients list. I have most of it, thankfully, but there are a few things Iâll need to go out and buy or collect.â He put the paper down and took a sip of his hot chocolate, making a little sinful noise of pleasure as he did. The hot drink fogged up his glasses, so Itachi took them off. âThere isnât much we can do tonight, but tomorrow I can start collecting everything we need.â
âCan I join you?â you asked, shuffling a bit closer.
Itachi seemed surprised, but soon that melted into a smile, âOf course, as long as youâre feeling up to it. Iâll charm all your clothes against the cold, just to be safe.â
A fair request seeing that he lived in the middle of a freezing forest. It did bring up some of the questions youâd had for him though. You werenât sure if James knew about Itachiâs backstory, but it felt wrong going behind his back regardless. Youâd rather hear it from him.
âCan I ask you some questions? About you?â
Itachi hesitated for a moment before seemingly forcing himself to relax, âOf course.â
âWhy do you live in the middle of nowhere? Do you⊠have friends?â You hesitated before asking the next question. âFamily?â
âI used to live in a village not too far from here,â Itachi said slowly, staring into his mug. âItâs where I was born and where my family is still living. There was an⊠incident, when I was a teenager. The council decided that it was in everyoneâs best interests that I lived out here instead.â
âWhat kind of incident?â You didnât want to push him too much, but you were deeply fascinated as to how he had ended up here. Also, to make a decision for your forever pocket universe, you wanted to know as much as possible about the omegas thatâd be joining you.
Itachi gripped his mug tightly, âI donât want you to think badly of me.â
âI donât think that would happen,â you said with quiet confidence. âEven if you did something bad as a teenager, Iâd much rather judge you on who you are now. And the person I see in front of me is someone kind, someone who tries to help complete strangers, and forgives the stupid alpha who came blundering into his bedroom at an inopportune moment.â
Itachi breathed out, amused.
âI think youâre wonderful, Itachi.â
âThank you,â he murmured, quietly. âMaybe Iâll tell you the full story someday. In a way, Iâm very grateful to have my own space, and I still meet with my family sometimes when they can make the trip to me. I do not dislike my life.â
âTell me about your family,â you said, brushing a stray piece of hair out of his face. Itachi leant into your hand ever so slightly.
âThere were four of us in our household, my father, mother, and my younger brother, Sasuke. Hereâ -Itachi bent forward and dragged a rather large, leather-bound sketch book out from under the sofa- âI have some sketches of him.â
He propped the book up on your laps and opened it, revealing countless sketches of trees, fruit, plants, even some of the living room you were sitting in. You noticed immediately how few there were of people.
Itachi flipped until he reached a page filled with sketches of a grumpy looking preteen, âThis is Sasuke, heâs just turned 13, although the most recent sketch is this one from his 12th birthday.â
You focused on the sketch that Itachi had pointed out. Sasuke looked like he was scowling over the top of a birthday cake. âHe seems⊠happy?â
Itachi didnât notice the questioning tone, only smiling to himself, âHe was, it was such an amazing day. Iâve met him a few times since then between our homes, but that was the last time he was in my home.â
âI can tell that you care about him a lot,â you said, gently tracing one of the drawings with your finger. âYou must miss him.â
Itachi didnât speak and you were worried that you had offended him.
âIâm sorry, I shouldnâtââ
âNo, youâre right,â Itachi said, giving you a sad smile. âHeâs my baby brother. Heâs everything to me, but thatâs why I had to distance myself, to keep him safe from the burden of guilt by association.â
âArenât you lonely here though?â
âSometimes,â he admitted, voice heavy like he was confessing to a dirty secret. âAll I wanted when I was younger was to have people leave me alone, to have the pressure lifted for just one day, and I do relish it, being able to study the kind of magic that I want, to learn to cook and bring my garden to life, but⊠Itâs not bad here, not at all, and once my brother is old enough to make the journey to see me by himself, I think things will be even better.â
You could tell that there was so much that he wasnât saying, so much that he was implying, and so much about his own life that he hadnât come to terms with yet, but you held your tongue. It sounded like heâd been pressured until he exploded, and then been punished and sent away for it. Whatever details you were missing wouldnât stop you feeling outraged on his behalf.
With the snap of the sketch book shutting, you understood that he was ending the conversation though. You would have to give your passionate and ill-informed defence of his unknown past actions on another occasion.
Itachi leant over to put the sketchbook back away under the sofa, but on the way back up, he accidentally knocked what was left of his hot chocolate all over your lap. You gasped as you saw the liquid pooling on the blanket, the warmth bleeding into your skin moments later. You tried to push the blanket off your lap, but you werenât fast enough to stop it leaking through to your clothes.
âIâm so sorry!â Itachi said, helping you drag the blanket off. âI donât know what happened, Iâm not normally so clumsy.â
âItâs okay,â you said, cringing at the feeling of the hot liquid rolling around. âAccidents happen.â You awkward shuffled off the couch with your hips raised to limit the damage. âAt least it isnât boiling hot.â
âRegardless, Iâm sorry,â Itachi said again, grabbing a random cloth off the side table. âStand still.â Itachi crouched in front of you and with the cloth, began dabbing firmly at the hot chocolate stain. Yes, the stain that was directly over your crotch.
You sucked in a breath, âUm, Itachi?â
âIâll have to grab you a pair of pyjama trousers to borrow,â he said, almost comically unaware of what he was currently doing.
He continued to dab forcefully, rubbing at the stain in an attempt to limit the damage. This was going to be dangerous in about three seconds because an omega was pawing at your cock and your stupid body didnât care about the difference between this and the other kind of pawing.
âItachi!â you said, more urgently this time, aware of the direction your blood was now flowing.
âYes?â He looked up at you, eyes wide, at an angle that really didnât help resist the tide of dirty thoughts. You wondered how heâd look with that beautiful face covered in your-- Â
Too late. You now had a massive boner and Itachiâs hand was resting right on top of it.
You cleared your throat awkwardly, âYour hand, Itachi.â
You watched as Itachi slowly put the pieces together, his eyes tracking from his hand to the area his hand was resting on, up to your face, and finally back to your crotch. You saw the exact moment that it clicked in his head.
âOh.â Itachi froze, hand still resting on your erection. The cloth dropped to the ground as Itachiâs grip weakened, revealing the outline of your cock straining against the fabric of your trousers. The soft, malleable fabric didnât leave much to the imagination. âThatâs⊠big.â
You snort-laughed, mainly out of surprise, âItachi!â
That finally did the trick, knocking Itachi out of his trance. He yanked his hand back like heâd been burnt, âSorry, sorry, Iâm sorry, I didnât realise.â
You burst out laughing while Itachi buried his red face in his hands. It was extra amusing because it was stoic Itachi who had accidentally been two pieces of fabric away from giving you a handjob. Porn logic was equal parts horny and hilarious, it seemed.
âDonât worry about it.â You continued to giggle through the words and helped Itachi to his feet. âCan you grab me some pyjamas and point me in the direction of the bathroom, please?â
âRight, yes, of course, the bathroom is through that door, Iâll go grab you something to wear and leave it outside the door.â Itachi scurried off, cheeks pink, and you followed his directions into the nearest bathroom, pushing open the door and closing it behind you.
It was weird to see a bathroom lit only by warm candlelight, but there were certainly enough candles to do it. Every surface had at least three candles and a plant, arranged in a way that made you once again think of your Pinterest board, but also of the massive fire hazard this would surely be if Itachi couldnât do magic.
You leant against the bathroom door and pressed a hand over your chest to calm your rapidly beating heartbeat. This porn logic thing felt good for your soul and bad for your heart. That whole series of events had been pretty funny though, and you certainly werenât going to complain about having Itachiâs hands on you. Even though youâd only known him for a day, you were already very happy with your choice. Actually, that brought up a great question.
âJames? How long do I have in each of the pocket dimensions?â
âLong enough, human alpha.â
You huffed; that was so unhelpful. What was also unhelpful was your massive boner. While this was an erotica, things hadnât moved so quickly that you thought Itachi would be down for going all the way on your first night, and you didnât want to make him uncomfortable. You wanted to move a little more slowly, to make sure he was comfortable and savour the moment. You also refused to blow this like those incels James had mentioned. You were above that which meant the boner had to go.
âPlease go down?â you tried asking politely, taking off your stained trousers. It stayed stubbornly upright, not even wilting slightly once exposed to the cold air. You sighed; that never worked. Well, here goes nothing.
You moved over to the sink and turned on the cold tap, a grimace already forming on your face.
âJames, wish me luck.â
âWhy do you needââ
You yelped loud enough that some birds outside the window took flight in shock. Fuck, that was cold!
âŠ
When that was sorted, you opened the door to find a neat pile of pyjamas, shower supplies, a towel, and toothbrush waiting for you. A quick (and almost certainly magically warmed) shower later and you were ready for bed.
Exiting the bathroom, you realised that the sofa wasnât made up as a bed anymore, the way it had been when youâd first woken up. Itachi was nowhere to be seen, so you went to his bedroom door to find him. Having learnt your lesson from before, you knocked and waited to be called in.
âHey,â you said softly, entering his bedroom. You watched as he extinguished some of his candles with a candle snuffer, bathing the room in a much gentler light. The large candle shaped like a black cat that he had on his chest of drawers made you smile. You hadnât seen it the first time, probably because youâd been distracted by two very cute, pink, round things, that you were not supposed to be thinking about brain, now was not the time!
âHello.â He turned around and you pretended not to see the way his eyes flickered straight to your crotch before settling on your face.
âI was just going to ask if we could set the sofa back up into a bed,â you said, trying not to preen under the attention your cock had garnered from the pretty omega. Maybe heâd be thinking about that while you were thinking about his pretty nipples.
Itachi averted his eyes for a moment as he put down the candle snuffer, âItâs very cold tonight.â
âIt is.â
âIâm worried that I donât have enough blankets to keep the both of us warm, and you might still be unwell from fainting in the snowstorm, so I was thinking, do you⊠I mean, would you want to share my bed? With me?â Itachi spoke quickly, like he was pushing the words out as fast as possible while he still avoided making eye contact.
A grin slowly bloomed on your face; he was so cute.
âIf you donât mind, thatâd be great,â you said, trying to keep your grin from coming across as creepy.
âReally?â His head spun around to face you again, his hair, which you only just realised had been freed from his ponytail, fanned out around his face. âI mean, thatâs great.â
You stepped closer to him, âGreat.â
He stepped closer to you, âYeah.â
Somehow that electricity from earlier was back in the air and you felt like you were being pulled into Itachiâs orbit. Without your conscious permission, one of your hands rose and gently cupped the left side of Itachiâs face, rubbing the soft skin there with your thumb. Â
You searched his face for any sign of discomfort but found none. He opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Â
âYouâre beautiful,â you whispered, reverently. Itachiâs eyes looked glossy for a moment, but he blinked the moisture away, his long, dark eyelashes fluttering open and closed as you studied him. âI know Iâve only been here for a day, but⊠Is it strange to say I really like you.â
Itachi took in a sharp breath, but slowly shook his head.
 âThen, may I kiss you?â
âYes,â Itachi breathed out, immediately closing his eyes.
Good, because he was irresistible, and although you knew it wasnât time for sex just yet, you hadnât chosen erotica because you wanted a slow burn.
Slowly, giving Itachi ample time to change his mind, you inched your face closer to his until you could feel the warmth radiating from his skin. You expected to feel his breath too, but you quickly realised that he must have been holding it. How cute. Well, there was no need to leave him literally or figuratively holding his breath any longer.
You pressed forward and made the connection, warm lips against warm lips, your own eyes falling closed now too. Itachi let out a very quiet noise of surprise that you only heard because you were so close to him. You let out a little hum of your own, less out of shock and more out of satisfaction. You may have only known him for about five hours, but youâd been wanting to kiss him for at least four and a half of them.
The outside world faded away as you gently guided his lips with your own. The sound of the wind howling and the cottage walls groaning, the fire in the living room crackling, all of it was secondary to the kiss.
With your free arm, you looped Itachi around the waist and tugged him closer until your chests were pressed against each other. Itachi steadied himself with one hand on your raised elbow and the other on your shoulder. Being this close was making your alpha instincts incredibly smug. He felt safe with you so soon, willing to be vulnerable in your presence, to let you love him.
With just a little bit more pressure, Itachiâs lips parted for you. The tips of your tongues met ever so slightly, just flicking against each other as the back of your throat now burnt with Itachiâs scent. The open-mouthed kissing managed to coax another, louder, noise from his lips.
âSo good,â you murmured against him, relishing in the gasp that generated. You had been right; Itachi loved being praised. He was still hesitant though, only moving his lips in ways you had already moved them. He was allowing you to guide him. You wondered if he was lacking experience.
You caught Itachiâs bottom lip between your teeth and were rewarded when he bucked his hips forward, brushing them against yours. You shouldnât have bothered getting rid of the erection earlier, because it was now back at full force. And by the feel of it, Itachi was joining you this time.
A strange flash of light bled through your closed eyelids and forced you away from Itachi with a confused noise. What on Earth?
Itachi whined, looking incredibly dazed with heavy lidded eyes and no control over his scent. He fisted one hand in your shirt like he was trying to pull you back. For a second, you thought you saw his eyes flash red, but it was gone in the next moment, and you wrote it off as a trick of the light.
What was that light, anyway?
Oh, damn. You glanced over Itachiâs shoulder and were greeted with the three remaining lit candles burning out of control. Their flames reached up at least two feet above the wick, and they were burning⊠pink?
âUm, Itachi? Your candles are kind of going crazy.â
He whirled around, still looking a bit dazed. With a wave of his hand, the candles returned to their normal height and colour. Itachi cleared his throat bashfully, âI didnât mean to do that, my apologies.â
It was kind of hot that he got so into the kiss that heâd lost control of his magic.
âItâs okay,â you brushed his fringe from his face, making sure to be ever so gentle with him. Itachi was not a weak person, thatâs something you were sure of, but he was weak for gentle affection and praise. The vaguely stoic man you had met hours earlier was nowhere to be found now, as Itachi gazed at you, eyes wide and open, vulnerable. âBedtime, hm?â
âOkay,â he said, softly. Despite his agreement, he made no move to the bed, only latching one of his hands onto your shirt again. Softly you pushed on his back a little and guided him towards the bed. Only once you fully tucked him in did he let go of you and allow you to climb into the other side.
Disappointingly, Itachi made no move to cuddle, staying firmly on his own side, but you understood that he probably needed some space to process what was happening. In fact, he had kind of looked a little like some of your old partners had done when youâd put them in subspace. But that couldnât be right, there was no way you had put him in subspace just from kissing him, right? No, that was ludicrous, he was probably just a little overwhelmed; you would leave him to his own space for now.
It had been one hell of a kiss though, you thought, touching your lips as you got yourself comfortable in the bed. Itachi was doing things to your brain and your body. You didnât know if it was him, some kind of magic, or the effect of living inside an erotica novel, but every touch felt like so much more. You were chomping at the bit to eventually get to explore more of Itachiâs body and the way you could make each other feel.
You yawned, thinking over the first day youâd had. It had been really fun. You still had to consider the specifics of what kind of backstory you wanted to give yourself, but you had plenty of time to figure that out later. You didnât know how you were going to explain wandering the woods in the middle of a snowstorm what sounded like miles from the nearest village. You were also going to have to get your hands on a map at some point so you could name an actual place that you were supposedly from. That was a problem for future you though.
The quaint, cottage core existence had been treating you well, supplemented by magic of course. It was making you feel warm and fuzzy, like part of you was being healed by living like this. It was simple and relaxing, and all around nice. Tomorrow, when the search for the ingredients began, you were looking forward to seeing more of the world.
Just as you had finally found a comfortable position on your back, and your thoughts had begun to drift, Itachi turned over so that he was facing you. You couldnât tell if he was fully asleep, or just tired and acting on impulse, but he quickly plastered himself to your side, tucking his head into your neck, wrapping an arm around your torso, and hitching a leg over your hips, inadvertently grinding his hard cock straight into your thigh. Once he was comfortable, he let out a big sigh and relaxed completely. It didnât surprise you that someone so lonely and gentle wanted to cuddle in his sleep.
You werenât going to move him, and you were too tired to think about the hard warmth that was currently poking you, so you simply allowed the sound of his quiet purrs to lull you to sleep. You would make sure he was satisfied once youâd both had a good sleep.
âGoodnight, James,â you mentally slurred out, tucking your face into Itachiâs hair. You vaguely heard her reply before you drifted away, comfortable and completely exhausted.
Next Chapter
#the quest for a second life#omegaverse#a/b/o#alpha!reader#naruto#itachi#omega!itachi#prose#n-sfw#reader insert#itachi uchiha#dom!reader#dom reader#alpha reader#sub itachi#sub!itachi
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CURIOSITIES - Pt.1
Hello there again! Introducing the first part of "Curiosities", a cc pack inspired by sims that love rarities, collectibles, and excesively cluttered shelves. This first release is an introduction to what's to come for the next few weeks/months, which will include: -* A Paleontology pack (Because adult sims can love Dinosaurs and prehistoric animals just as much as kids do!). -* A Crystals pack. -* Archeology pack. -* And a Insects and Bones pack Ethically sourced, of course! Each pack will come with functional electronics and furniture, so you can complete your ideal ecclectic home with more than just clutter/deco items. But for today, you can find a variety of items to decorate your living-room area.
THIS PACK INCLUDES A TOTAL OF 27 OBJECTS:
-* Arm Chair + Loveseat + Sofa -- (20 swatches each) -* Ceiling Fan -- (5 Swatches) -* End Table -- (13 Swatches) -* Storage -- (8 Swatches) -* Rectangular & Circular Coffee Tables -- (24 Swatches each) -* Floor Lamp + Table Lamp -- (20 Swatches) -* Flowers on a Glass -- (10 swatches) -* Stackable Books -- (6 Swatches) -* Framed Insects Clutter -- (8 + 2 Spider Swatches) -* Wall Framed Insects (18 + 6 Spider Swatches) -* Wall Butterfly Collection -- (12 Swatches) -* Amethyst Geode -- (8 Swatches) -* Cut Geode -- (8 Swatches) -* Crystal -- (12 Swatches) -* Bigger Cystal -- (13 Swatches) -* Sea Horse Lamp (Taxidermy) -- (4 Swatches) -* Dinosaur Skull (Carnotaurus) -- (4 Swatches) -* Ammonite Fossil -- (5 Swatches) -* Unspecified Bone -- (5 Swatches) -* Cow Jaw Bone -- (5 Swatches) -* Faux Animal Hide Rug -- (6 Swatches) -* Hourglass -- (8 Swatches) -* Trinket Box -- (8 Swatches) --!! If you dislike spiders, there is an option that doesn't come with the those swatches, please be careful and download the correct one !! --
---! This pack is now Free on my Patreon (x)!---
With love, Simmila.
#the sims 4#ts4#sims 4 maxis match#the sims community#simblr#ts4 simblr#sims 4#sims 4 cc#sims 4 build cc#sims 4 buy cc#sims 4 custom content#sims 4 creator#Sims 4 new cc#simmila cc
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I've Always Liked to Play With Fire (part 29)
NESTA ARCHERON X ERIS VANSERRA X FEMALE!READER
summary:Â wedding night... activities
warnings:Â PURE SMUT!!! literally filth, i have no excuse. threesome, oral sex (F receiving), spanking, dom!Nesta, orgasm denial, face sitting, everything basically. slight talk of past trauma but that's it (seriously when y'all write threesomes why do your characters never discuss limits beforehand smh)
word count:Â 8.3k
DO NOT REPOST ANYWHERE
a/n:Â sorry i fell off the face of the earth... again..... i got super depressed and forgot how to write but i'm back now! rip to the person who requested neris x reader smut and had to wait 28 chapters for it lol
DISCLAIMER: none of this is proofread and i WAS drunk when i wrote it so it's a disaster but it's smutty so feast away
part 1Â //Â part 2Â /Â part 3Â /Â part 4Â /Â part 5Â /Â part 6Â /Â part 7Â /Â part 8Â /Â part 9Â /Â part 10Â /Â part 11Â /Â part 12Â /Â part 13Â /Â part 14Â /Â part 15Â /Â part 16Â /Â part 17Â /Â part 18 / part 19 / part 20 / part 21 / part 22 / part 23 / part 24 / part 25 / part 26 / part 27 / part 28 / part 29 / part 30
read on ao3
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Your jaw hit the floor as you entered the unfamiliar room. Against the wall to your left was the biggest four poster bed you had ever seen, enough to fit at least 4 people with room for limbs to be spread but not touching. It was covered in a thick green blanket, with cream pillows and a knitted throw at the base. Almost-sheer gold curtains were wrapped from the top frame of the bed posters, held back by brass loops. There was a large, arching wall of flowers and branches surrounding a shelf behind the bedâs headboard. A few trinkets had already been strewn across the shelves â books, jewellery, a knife, all objects you had seen Eris possess. The floor was dark wood and elegant, with a large, red rug in front of the bed, offset by the most comfortable-looking, plushy chairs and couch you had ever seen.Â
But what caught your eye the most was the expertly carved cinquefoil arches and pillars on the other side of the room that lead to a balcony. There were no windows between the pillars, but the room remained devoid of the chill of the night air. It was spelled, judging by the thin sheen of magic between the spaces. You couldnât see the view at this hour, but you knew it would take your breath away.
Angling your head in amazement, you noticed two open doors on the right side. One led to what looked like a massive walk-in closet, while the other led to the bathroom. You followed the second door, peering in to see the largest bathing room you had ever seen. An enormous tub was carved into the floor at one end, a small fountain spurting from one end with dragonâs heads carved into it. Across from the tub was a spacious shower, with various faucets and shower heads at all angles and three shelves with different soaps and oils on them. Amazed, you stepped back into the main bedroom, too stunned to speak.
âSo,â Eris smirked, sauntering up behind you and placing his hands on your waist. âWhat do you think, my love?â
Slack-jawed, you couldnât find the words for a moment. You glanced at Nesta, who had come up beside you. Her eyes were wide, her soft lips parted ever so slightly in wonder. Everything in this room was perfect, down to the last detail. âIs thisâŠâ You tried to speak but your voice trailed off.
âOur room.â Nesta finished your sentence for you, her voice filled with awe.
You asked, âwait, did you know?â
Eris squeezed your sides gently. âShe knew this was going to be my gift to you both. Unfortunately I had to tell her, as I needed her input in the construction of the shower. But this is the first time you have both seen it. It was originally a storage room, but I had it redone and it has been worked on for the past two months.â
You baulked. âEris, IâŠâ Once again, your voice trailed off. The scale of the room, the attention to detail, everything was specifically designed for you, Eris, and Nesta to live together without feeling cramped. Eris had done all of this for you, for Nesta. Even during those dark days where it seemed everything had gone awry, he had kept hope aflame with the building of this room. âI donât even know what to say, this is incredible.â
Eris chuckled, resting his chin on your shoulder and letting his lips graze your ear as he murmured, âYou donât have to say anything. You both deserve it, and I am beyond thrilled that I have the honour of spoiling you like this. It is the least I can do, and it is just one of many endless ways I intend on proving my devotion.â
Instantly, your blood heated at the sensation and you let out a breath. You shivered slightly, face flushing at having your mateâs lips so close to your neck. The action did not go unnoticed. Nesta turned her head towards you, pupils widening with lust at the breath that escaped your lips. Eris simply moved even closer, his fingers stretching up your ribs ever so slightly. Even through the thick fabric of your wedding dress, your skin tingled where his fingers brushed and you sucked in a breath.
âMy, my,â Nesta cooed, cocking her head and surveying you up and down like a dragon staring at her prey. The way her head tilted slowly, eyes aflame and each movement possessing a serpent-like quality reminded you of Atharielâs mannerisms â rider and beast, slowly morphing into a unified being. âSomebody is flustered easily.â
âThatâs good,â Eris said smoothly, his voice like silk. âIt means she listened when I told her she had to wait until the night of the wedding for her desires to be satisfied.â
âYou really think I had time for any of that amidst the wedding chaos?â You tried to snap back, but your voice was breathy and weak. All you could think about was Erisâs hands on your sides and Nestaâs blue-grey eyes sizing you up. Your heart thumped louder in your chest as you realised your fantasies were going to be brought to fruition. All those weeks of having to suppress your urges were finally at an end. The sensation of your matesâ desire through the mating bond was almost overwhelming, igniting every nerve in your body.
Eris dragged his lips up and down the side of your neck, chuckling darkly at the shudder your body involuntarily made at the sensation. âFair enough, we have been rather busy, havenât we? Iâm surprised youâve made it this long.â
Nesta gracefully took a step closer to you, her rich, warm scent enveloping your senses as she gently removed the crown from your head, setting it down on the dresser a few feet away. âOh please, take what Eris says with a grain of salt,â she rolled her eyes. âHeâs been struggling to hold back just as much as we have. Heâs desperate too.â
The High Lord paused his movements along your neck, amber eyes narrowing at her. âCareful, Nesta.â He purred. âI had planned on being generous to my mates tonight, Iâd hate for it to turn into an evening of punishment and teaching that smart mouth of yours a lesson.â
Nesta bit the corner of her lip,and you couldnât help but notice the sudden shift in the position of her thighs. She shot Eris a glare, lifting her chin with a challenge. âYou wish.â
Before Eris could reply, you let out a snort of laughter at her boldness. A mistake, it seemed, as both your mates whipped their heads sharply towards you. Your stomach fluttered with a delicious fear, one that sent heat between your legs.Â
âIs something funny?â Nesta asked, a hint of a smirk behind her lips.
You shook your head, resisting the urge to chuckle again. Truthfully, you were impressed with the self-restraint of your mates. For so many, the snapping of the mating bond ignited a weeks long frenzy of fucking. But even after the bond snapped between you, Nesta, and Eris, there had been next to no sexual touching. Every ounce of your being desired to ravage your mates, but Erisâs wishes to refrain until the wedding were the string that held you together. No, your male mate liked control. It was something you had always known about him, something that often made your imagination run wild with other types of control he would enjoy exercising. While you certainly liked your fair share of being in charge, you craved Erisâs approval that came with doing what he asked⊠after a good amount of mouthing off, that is.
Nesta had held herself together almost as well as Eris, refusing to give into your sly attempts to find a loophole in his command the last few weeks. She shared very little of what her and Cassian had done together, but you were itching to find out what she liked. To explore what buttons you could push, the sounds you could draw out from her plush lipsâŠ
Your thoughts were abruptly cut off as Erisâs hand found its way into the locks of hair by your scalp, expertly tugging and pulling your head back against his solid chest. The moan that escaped you was completely involuntary, your body going haywire at the simple action of your mate.Â
âNesta asked you a question,â Eris said sternly, forcing you to look up at him. Your breath caught in your throat as he tilted your head back enough for him to stare down at you. His amber eyes were dark with lust, the crown upon his head and the smug look on his face painting the perfect picture of royal arrogance. âIt would do you well to answer it.â
This time you managed to catch the whimper in your throat as Eris tilted your head to the side so you were upright and facing Nesta again. The way he moved your body around as if you were a piece of chess on his playing board sent a new wave of arousal through you. You felt torn in two, part of you wanting to submit and let him use you as he pleased while the other part wanted to challenge him and face the consequences he would no doubt dole out.
Nestaâs arms were crossed, pushing up her breasts ever so slightly, which your hungry eyes noticed right away. She raised a groomed eyebrow, âwell?â
Deciding to give both of them what they wanted for now, you answered. âWhatâs funny is I thought youâd be more submissive, Nesta. Your remark caught me off guard. After all, I know how badly you want to please Eris.â The first sentence was entirely untrue, something all three of you knew. But you couldnât help but add kindling to the fire. The masochistic part of your brain wanted to see how youâd be punished, and if itâd be enough to break you into submission.
âBrave words for somebody whoâs about to be at her mercy.â Erisâs voice was low and smooth, his lips returning to your ear.Â
Nesta simply stared you down evenly, wicked cunningness lurking behind her eyes. âPathetic, she wants us to not be nice to her and is trying to goad us into doing what she wants.â
You shook your head, but excitement ran through your veins. You heard Eris chuckle from behind you, and Nesta let out an exhale. With the mating bond still so fresh and the three of you in such close proximity, you knew they had felt your bodyâs every reaction as if it were their own. Despite the chill autumn breeze, the room felt stiflingly hot.
Erisâs hands moved higher on your hips, fingers spreading and ever so slightly grazing the underside of your breast through the fabric of your dress. Nesta stepped forward as well, so close you could smell the honey-lemon tart she ate for dessert on her breath. Her cheeks were flushed with desire, but her eyes still donned that stern expression that drove you crazy. Before you could say anything, her slender fingers reached down and brushed against the inside of your legs through your skirts. An icy hot shiver went up your spine at the contact, and you couldnât help but arch into Eris, who at this point was responsible for holding you upright.
âSo, it seems that you have a choice to make, my dear,â Eris said in your ear, rubbing agonisingly slow circles along your sides with his fingers. âHow do you want this night to go? Do you want me to be nice and focus on making you both feel good, hm?â With those last few words, Eris gave your hair another pull, tilting your head further to the right and exposing more of your neck. You cried out as his lips and teeth finally found your skin, gently kissing and biting with the perfect amount of pressure. Instantly, your breathing became uneven, your body desperate for more.
After a few moments of pleasuring the sensitive skin on your neck, Eris removed his lips and continued. âOr perhaps, you want something a little different, for me to be mean and turn you into more of a desperate mess than you already are.â
Suddenly, the gentle strokes of his lips and tongue from before were replaced with sharp canines sinking into your skin. You gasped, a new wave of arousal rushing through you like the waves of a storm. His teeth stung in the most delicious way, mixing with the pleasure arising in your body and making your head spin.
âI think we have our answer.â Nesta chuckled, moving her hands to rest on your hip bones just below Erisâs. âBut I want to hear her say it.â
âIâŠâ You stuttered, world reeling from the whispers of touches from Nestaâs hands on your hips mixed with the harsh biting at your neck from your other mate behind you. âI want you to do your worst.â
âMasochistic little fox.â Eris purred. âIf you need us to stop, please speak up at any point. This may not be the traditional coupling of mates, but I want you to enjoy it.â
âNothing about us is traditional.â You couldnât help but chuckle.
âThat is true.â Nesta added. As if she couldnât take the close proximity anymore, she crashed her lips into yours, squeezing your hips as she did so. Immediately, you placed your hands on her biceps, pulling her closer and moaning into the contact. Her mouth was soft yet all-consuming, and wetness almost immediately pooled between your legs. Nestaâs kisses have always turned you on in the several that you shared, but this was different. Before, they had been tender and longing, like a prayer echoing through an abandoned church.Â
There was nothing tender about the way she was kissing you now. If her previous kisses were like a gentle creek flowing through the woods, this kiss was a tsunami. It bewitched your body and soul, her lips bold and claiming you wholly. You were hers, and she was yours â thatâs all her kiss told you. You pulled her even closer, her chest brushing up against yours as Erisâs hands explored further, grazing your breasts more and more with each movement. You shuddered between them, lifting a hand and bringing it around Nestaâs neck, squeezing the back of it. She let out a moan, and you used the opportunity of her slack jaw to slip your tongue into her mouth, brushing her lips and tasting every inch of her.
After several minutes of being utterly consumed by the female, you felt her pull away. You let out a whine that was cut off abruptly as you were spun around to face Eris. His green cloak and dazzling crown had been discarded already, leaving him in his red and gold robes. Even without the royal symbols, there was no mistaking his power and status. It sent a thrill through you as you stared up at the male. Chuckling, Erisâs hand wove into your hair again as he pulled you forward, pressing his lips into yours. He was rougher than Nesta, a different kind of dominance, one that was nearly overwhelming. His lips were firm against yours, commanding every ounce of your attention, and you gladly gave it to him. The hand in your hair kept you immobile, unable to resist any which way Eris chose to move you.
You felt Nesta stir behind you, and after a few moments the strings trying together the back of the dress began to loosen. Her fingers expertly undid the material, and you eagerly pulled your arms from the long sleeves while keeping your lips glued to Eris. A shiver came over your body as Nestaâs fingers grazed your newly exposed skin, pulling the soft white and red fabric down your body and letting it fall to a heap on the floor before delicately removing the emerald necklace. Nesta also reached out and pulled the remaining few bobby pins out of your hair, releasing it from the previous mess of an updo it had become.Â
You stood there in your underwear, skin covered in a thin layer of sweat from the eveningâs festivities. You did not feel the urge to shy away and cover yourself as you had when getting undressed with previous lovers. Even as Eris pulled away and took a step back to drink in your naked form, you did not cower. You were his equal, and he yours. He would come to know your body like the back of his hand, there was no use in trying to hide it.
His amber eyes went from lustful to angry as they found the scar below your belly button, that cursed letter âMâ that his brother had carved into your skin. You bit your lip, pushing back memories of those awful encounters with Malgorm.Â
âI hate the gods for letting this happen.â Eris muttered angrily, staring at the scar as if enough willpower could wash it away. âI am so sorryââ
You took a step forward, pressing your fingers against his lips to shush him. âWhatâs done is done,â You murmured. âWe cannot change the past. We can find a way to permanently glamour the scar, as I do not wish for it to be on my body any more than you wish to gaze upon it, my love. Letâs not worry about it for now, okay?â
A slender hand on your shoulder made you turn to face Nesta. She had removed her crown and dress as well, leaving her just as naked as you. But her face was serious, breaking the teasing tension of the room as she spoke. âAre you sure this is okay? After everything that has happened, we donât have to do this right away. We can wait.â
You shook your head. âNo,â You said firmly. âI want this. I want you both. If I was unsure I would have said so. I trust you.â
Nestaâs voice was soft. âOkay. But is there anything off limits that might cause you to become⊠discomforted?â
You thought for a moment, hating the memories that flashed through your mind. But you endured it. Nesta was right â before anything happened, boundaries needed to be stated. âMy neckâŠâ You said slowly, remembering how hard Malgorm had grabbed you. âI donât want pressure on my neck, please.â
Nesta nodded with understanding. You turned around to face Eris, whose gaze had softened. âI can work with that.â He said gently.
âWhat about you, Nesta?â You asked, facing your female mate once again. âWhatâs off limits for you?â
At first, the female visibly tensed, as if fighting off the urge to put those walls back up that she had so firmly in place when you first met her. Getting Nesta to be vulnerable with sex would be a journey, that much you knew. After how she described her couplings with Cassian and other males, this discussion of limits seemed new to her. She blinked slowly, and you could see the wheels in her mind turning.Â
âTake your time,â you said softly, grabbing Erisâs hand and squeezing it reassuringly.
âMy headâŠâ Nesta said quietly after a moment, her eyes slightly glazed over as if reliving memories. âI would appreciate it if my head was not held down or restricted.â
Immediately, your mind thought of all the instances that explained this. The kelpie, the Cauldron, the human male who assaulted her, it all made sense. You nodded, then faced Eris once again to take the pressure off of Nesta. âAnd what about you, husband? Anything off limits?â
Eris scoffed half heartedly. âNope. I am content with anything.â
You elbowed him lightly in the stomach, rolling your eyes. âYouâre not funny. Weâre trying to have a discussion here and you ruined it.â
The male made a noise of agreement, his eyes sobering up for a second before he sighed, removing the crown from his head and moving his fingers to unlace his robes. Nesta came up to stand beside you, her hand sliding into yours but her eyes fixed on Eris. Both of you stared as the male removed his robes and unlaced his tunic. You felt Nestaâs breath catch as Erisâs bare torso was revealed. Slender muscles were covered in faint scars. They looked to be from some sort of burning lashes â Beronâs doing, no doubt. Bile rose in your throat at the sight before you, at the thought of how bad these injuries must have been to still be scarred centuries later.
âMy father liked to use his own fire on me,â Eris said slowly. âThe wounds from the beatings disappeared fast, but myâŠ. harsher punishments involved fire. I think in a way, he wanted me to fear our fire. But like many things in life, he failed.â He let out a hoarse laugh. âFor this reason, I do not wish for pain to be inflicted upon me during sex. While I will inflict it if itâs something you want, I am firmly against being on the receiving end of it.â
âI understand.â You said, and Nesta murmured in agreement. Even with the scars, your body still heated up at the sight of Eris shirtless. They marked his skin like stars in the night sky, glowing in the candlelight. He was strikingly beautiful, every inch of him. From the way Nestaâs breathing changed beside you, he was having the same effect on her, too.
Finally, the arrogant smirk returned to Erisâs face. âExcellent, now that we are all in agreementâŠâ His amber gaze fell upon you, making your knees weak as he spoke with lethal command, âGet on the bed.â
You rolled your eyes at him, but obliged, giving Nesta a quick kiss on the cheek on your way over. The mattress was soft and plushy as you sank down onto it, and you briefly wondered if you even wanted to know how much it had cost.Â
All distracting thoughts vanished from your head as Nesta strode over, prowling like a dragon approaching a lost sheep. The silver light from the moon and the golden light from the candles illuminated her soft curves in an otherworldly way, the coronet now evolved into a simple loose, messy braid coming over her shoulder. She smirked as you leaned up to kiss her from your sitting position. Before your lips could reach hers, she chuckled and abruptly pushed you back so you were laying down. The yelp you let out as you unexpectedly fell back was cut off by a kiss, her mouth swallowing any noise you made as you melted beneath her. The rich scent of your combined arousals flooded the room, filling your senses.
Nestaâs thighs straddled you as she pressed her body into yours, her creamy skin brushing against you and making your nerves go haywire as she shifted her mouth to your throat, planting gentle kisses there before sliding further down your body. You reached down to try and pull her back up so you could touch her, but two silver flames appeared around your wrists, gently guiding them up over your head and twining into the bedframe, leaving your hands tied. You whimpered in complaint, causing Nesta to stop her kisses just above your breast.Â
âIâm sorry, did you want to touch me?â She asked huskily, eyes dark. Her lips moved just above your nipple, her breath sending the bud into a peak.
âYes.â You said breathily, trying to keep the desperate tone out of your voice.
Nesta gave your nipple a quick lick, causing your entire body to twitch before she continued. âToo bad, you have to earn it.â
âAnd how do I do that?â You snapped in frustration, unable to stop yourself.Â
As quick as a snake, Nesta reached under your thigh and hoisted your hips off the mattress. With her other hand, she reached underneath and slapped your ass. Hard. Instinctively, you moaned loudly, pain and pleasure coursing through your body and creating even more wetness between your legs. Through half-open eyes, you saw Nesta blink in surprise then smile wickedly. She turned to Eris, who had discarded his bottoms and was palming himself through his underwear. A silent conversation passed between them, and you shivered with anticipation before Nesta turned back towards you. âLose the attitude, love,â she said.
You huffed, but tried to force the attitude out of your voice. âBoring. What do I have to do to earn it?â
âYouâll have to beg us to let you cum, and youâll ask permission to do so.â
âI donât beg.â
âOh but you will,â Eris chimed in, gently gliding his fingers down Nestaâs spine as she took your nipple in her mouth, causing you to moan. âAnd youâll love every second of it.â
You couldnât deny that. All you could focus on was Nestaâs mouth on you, her other hand fondling the other breast. All the squirming in the world was useless against those silver flame restraints, which was unyielding. Finally, Nesta shuffled down so she was kneeling on the ground with her upper body between your thighs. Involuntarily, your legs automatically widened as she settled in, which did not go unnoticed.
âWow, you are desperate for me, arenât you?â Nesta teased, running a finger up your inner thigh. âThe lightest of touches have you soaked through your underwear, I canât imagine how youâll react when I get my mouth on you.â
You whimpered at her words that washed over you like warm water. You had never been this wet, this aching to be touched. Nesta was smug as her finger ghosted over your clothed slit, feeling the wetness of the thin material. Your hips jolted at the sensation, electric shock wracking your nerves.Â
Your mates were going to be the death of you. Every instinct screamed to find a way out of the restraints and pounce on Nesta and Eris, but your desire to please them overpowered it.
âMy, my, sheâs sensitive,â Eris mocked. âI donât think sheâll be able to handle what weâve got planned.â
âShe will,â Nesta said sternly before glancing up at you. âWonât you?â
You nodded in blind agreement, the anticipation of not knowing what was coming next both exciting and terrifying you. âGood girl,â Nesta replied before grabbing your panties and tearing them in two, revealing your soaking wet pussy. She moaned at the sight of your exposed core, making you pool even further. Every sound she made, every look she gave you was enough to drive you crazy. Your thighs were near trembling as she lightly touched your clit, the contact with the sensitive bundle of nerves making you jump and your thighs twitch.
âLook how wet she is,â Eris said. âAnd we havenât even done anythingâŠâ
Your eyes snapped open fully when you realised he had removed his underwear and was stroking his cock. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of the male with his hand wrapped around his long cock, a smug expression on his face as he stared down at you like you were a piece of meat served up on a platter. âSee something you like?â He said arrogantly as he noted your expression.
âMother above, do I ever,â You replied breathlessly. âMy brain doesnât even know where to focus.â
Nesta said, âI think I can remedy that.â Without another word, the femaleâs head dove between your thighs, her tongue sliding up from your entrance to your clit before wrapping her lips around the bud and sucking. Bursting with pleasure, your back arched off the bed, hands angrily pulling against the restraints begging to touch Nesta. She repeated the pattern, licking and sucking in all the right spots and making your eyes roll back in your head.Â
Cursing under your breath, you let out moans as Nesta ate you out. Her hands were wrapped around your thighs, burying herself as far into you as she could. You could feel her enjoyment and desire through the mating bond, which intensified the experience tenfold. Never before had you been this turned on this fast. Nesta had already figured out what made your body sing and was playing it like a violin. Eris was kneeling behind Nesta, pressing kisses all over her back. The sight of it turned you on even more.
You could pinpoint the exact moment Erisâs fingers found Nestaâs pussy. The female let out a moan that sent vibrations into your core, making your moan echo off of hers. The room was filled with the wet sounds of Nestaâs mouth on you and Erisâs fingers rubbing Nestaâs clit. Her face was screwed up with pleasure and a focused determination, her tongue never relenting against you.
âIsnât she making you feel so good?â Eris asked you. âNesta seems like sheâs already doing very good with her mouth, I canât wait to test it out myself.â
âSo fucking goodâŠâ You murmured, causing Nesta to moan in approval between your legs.
The sounds between Nestaâs thighs intensified as Eris slipped a finger into her, curling it in a way that had her squirming in between you two. âDo you know how many nights Iâve had to get myself off to refrain from storming into your rooms and dragging both of you into my bed to be fucked senseless? Iâve had so many fantasies about what I want to do to you two, even with an eternity ahead of us I donât know if weâll have time to complete them allâŠâ The male continued, cocking his head and pushing his hips forward, letting his cock rub against Nestaâs ass. âIs this everything you dreamed of, my love, hmm?â
âYes!â You exclaimed, hands gripping onto the headboard as you writhed underneath Nestaâs mouth. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, coupled with the sight of Eris behind Nestaâs kneeling form with his knuckles buried inside her, you felt yourself approaching the journey to your climax within ten minutes, a new record for you.â Your mate between your legs whimpered as Erisâs movements seemingly sped up, but she kept her blue-grey eyes open and looking up at you. Incoherent noises escaped your throat as you began to plead. âPleaseâŠâ you begged. âIâm getting closeâŠâ
âClose to what?â Eris asked mockingly, his voice perfectly even as if he wasnât curling his fingers inside Nesta so tactfully that she was shaking slightly. âYou have to use your words, my love.â
You felt your orgasm building at a rapid pace, coming crashing towards you like a tidal wave. âPlease⊠Iâm gonnaââ Your words were abruptly cut off as you were unable to hold back the inevitable. Like water overflowing a cup, your orgasm washed over you, spreading that warm electric sensation through your nerve endings. Nesta groaned with pleasure as your hips bucked against her face, grinding into it as you rode out your high. The world went silent around you in those few, stretched out seconds. It was an orgasm unlike any you had ever experienced.
With shaking legs you caught your breath and Nesta finally removed her tongue from your cunt. You watched through hooded lids as she leaned her head back, and Eris bent down and kissed her hungrily, lapping up your juices. One of his hands grabbed her breast, squeezing it in his fingers and making her moan into his mouth. They were like two gods in a painting before you, one you would happily stare at for the rest of your life.
The silver flames around your wrists vanished, and you eagerly brought your arms back down to stretch them out. When Nesta and Eris eventually separated, they turned their gazes towards you. And you knew you were fucked from the wicked look in their eyes.
âIâm sorryââ You began apologising, but Eris cut you off.
âWe asked you to do one thing, and you couldnât even do itâŠâ He said with gleeful disappointment. âA shame, I had such a lovely reward in mind for you if you had just been a good girl.â
Nesta scoffed. âI think she wanted the punishment.â
âShe will regret that very soon.â Eris stood up and strode over to your side of the bed, grabbing a fistful of your hair and forcing you to look up at him. âDid we say you could cum?â
You shook your head, earning you another harsh tug that elicited a moan. âI asked you a question,â Eris hissed. âDid we say you could cum?â
âNoâŠâ You stuttered weakly, shrinking beneath his and Nestaâs gazes.
âThen why did you?â
âIt felt too good, I couldnât stop it.â
âDo you think flattery will keep you from punishment?â
You sheepishly shrugged. âA girl can dream, right?â
Eris barked out a laugh, grabbing you gently by the hands and guiding you off the bed. Your legs still felt weak, and had it not been for Eris you would have surely stumbled in your first few steps. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nesta smugly smirking at her handiwork, her cheeks flushed.Â
But Erisâs hand grasped your chin, turning your focus to him as you met his gaze. âGo to the empty space on the wall,â He said slowly. âAnd place your hands on it and spread your legs.â
You baulked, eyes widening. The evil grin on his face sent chills up your spine. Despite your recent orgasm, your body began to heat up again. Knowing better than to protest this time, you did as you were told. The sound of your footsteps echoed throughout the large bedroom as you walked over to the gap in the wall between the fireplace and the corner area. Taking a deep breath, you faced the wall and placed your hands on the smooth wood. It was cold beneath your touch, a soothing sensation against your sweating palms. You mentally cursed your body at how quickly it was recovering and ready for a second round. The mating bond was thick with desire so palpable you could feel it.
You heard footsteps coming up behind you, and you knew without looking that it was Eris. His presence could be felt creeping up on you as if it were your own shadow. You flinched as he put his hands on your waist, pressing his chest into your back. His cock rubbed against your ass as it did with Nestaâs, causing you to suck in a sharp breath. âIf you want something, you have to ask for it,â Eris murmured in your ear. âThose are my rules, and you have already broken them. I am going to spank you ten times, and youâre going to fucking take it. Am I clear?â
âYes, Eris.â You whimpered. Behind you, his cock twitched at the moaning of his name and the male groaned.Â
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Nesta take a seat in the nearby chair with a glass of white wine in hand. She had run a comb through her hair, and when she caught your gaze she raised an eyebrow. âDonât look at me for help,â she chided. âYouâve done this to yourself. I will not get you out of this.â
You sighed, trembling in anticipation and waiting with bated breath for the first strike. Wasting no time, it came seconds later. Erisâs hand came down on your right ass cheek, hard. From your throat came a guttural cry, one you didnât know you were capable of making. It was a cross between a scream and a moan, crossing into the latter as the impact from the initial sting melted into a white hot pleasure. You barely had time to recover before the second one came on the other cheek this time, drawing out the same response.
âGood girlâŠâ Eris murmured, rubbing your ass and pressing a kiss between your shoulder blades. You sighed beneath his touch, melting into it.Â
But the tenderness didnât last long. By the seventh spank, tears pricked the corners of your eyes.Â
âAw, look at her, Eris,â Nesta spoke up. âYouâve made her cry.â
Your laboured breaths drowned out his response as you pressed your forehead into your arms, which you had valiantly kept pressed against the wall. Your ass stung and sweat dripped down your forehead. But the cherry on top was your dripping cunt. Wetness had seeped down your thighs, glistening in the candlelight of the room on display for everyone to see.
You felt Erisâs hand brush some stray hairs out of your face, and he leaned in close to murmur into your ear, âAre you okay?â
âMhm,â You whispered, nodding feverishly.Â
There was no teasing in your mateâs voice as he spoke. âDo we need to stop?â
âNo,â You insisted. âI can handle three more, I promise.â
You felt Eris nod against you before pulling away and continuing to rub your ass, which already donned the formations of several dark bruises. You turned your head towards Nesta, who was watching the scene with lust in her eyes. âYouâre doing so well, my love,â she said tenderly. âYou can do it.â
With a newfound determination, you forced your body to relax as Erisâs hand came down again with a loud smack, making you wince and grow wetter at the same time. Then again, and again. Finally, after the tenth smack, you collapsed your head into your arms again, panting. Your legs felt as weak as a newborn deer, gangly and unstable. You didnât even have the energy to react as Eris swiped his fingers through your slip, sampling the wetness gathered there.Â
He chuckled darkly. âMy, my, somebody sure enjoyed that.â
âIâm not surprised, given her reaction to my one slap earlier.â Nesta said, placing her wine glass on the table next to her before standing up and making her way over to where you and Eris were standing. She wiped some sweat from your brow with a cloth and pressed a kiss to your forehead. âWell done.â
âIs my punishment over?â You asked weakly.
âNot quite,â Eris responded, gently guiding you over to the chair Nesta had been seated in. âYouâve demonstrated a lack of patience, which is unacceptable. So you are going to learn to be patient, and you are going to sit here and watch me fuck Nesta.â
âAnd youâre not allowed to touch yourself,â Nesta added sternly as Eris pushed you into the chair, which was now turned to face the bed and had a glass of water next to it. Truthfully, your body was relieved at the idea of getting a break. Your muscles ached from the trembling, and the idea of watching your mates fuck each other made your body heat up. So you nodded, getting a kiss on the cheek from each of your mates before they made their way to the bed. After taking a sip of the ice cold water, you leaned back in the plushy chair.
Nesta knelt on the bed, her long locks cascading down her back as she looked up at Eris. He stood before her at the edge of the bed like an altar she was worshipping, his lean muscles illuminated by the moon. He bent down and kissed Nesta as if she contained the last molecules of air left in this universe, his lips moulding into hers perfectly. You couldnât help but bite your lip as you watched her shoulders relax as she melted into his kiss. Desire began to build in you once again, just by watching your mates share a heated kiss.
With a shove on the shoulder, Eris pushed Nesta into the bed so she was laying down. He wasted no time crawling over her body and pressing heated kisses across her chest. As his mouth came to her nipple, Nesta moaned and wound a hand in the maleâs red locks, arching her back into his touch. Your palms itched with the urge to go over there and help, but the soreness of your ass reminded you to stay in your seat.Â
âFuck, these are gorgeousâŠâ Eris murmured before switching to her other breast. He groaned into the mound of flesh as Nestaâs grip in his hair tightened, the animalistic sound echoing throughout the chamber.
Donât touch yourself, you reminded yourself. No matter how hot the scene before you was, and despite the fact you normally loved being punished, you knew your mates were the type to only be so forgiving.
Grabbing one of Nestaâs long legs, Eris placed a kiss on the inside of her calf, working his way down. Nestaâs breathing shifted, her hips squirming to try and meet his face, but the male swerved every time and kissed her thigh instead. More arousal pooled between your legs as you watched Nesta squirm beneath Eris.
âPlease, ErisâŠâ Nesta breathed, her cheeks red and eyes half closed with desire.
The red haired male stopped, his lips centimetres above her pussy. âPlease what?â
âPlease use your mouth on meâŠâ
Nestaâs pleas made you whimper. All you wanted to do was go over there and satisfy her, to have her clamp her thighs around your head until the world crumbled into ash before you. Eris turned his head to face you, where you were gripping the arms of the chair. âSee how she asked nicely?â He said to you, âNow sheâs going to get what she wants. Itâs that simple.â
His pale fingers gripped Nestaâs hips tightly, pinning them down to the mattress as he brought his face between her legs and began his work. Immediately, Nesta let out a loud moan â she was much more vocal than you, letting her noises out shamelessly as she was pinned down. After several minutes, Eris easily slid two fingers into Nesta, stretching her out yet still keeping her hips still with only one hand.Â
âOh, fuckâŠâ Nesta cried out as Eris curled his fingers inside her, one of her hands gripping the sheets while the other palmed her breast. Her eyes fluttered closed, and it was only minutes later when Eris pulled away. Nesta whined at the loss of contact, and he let out a growl, grabbing her leg and hitching it up against his waist. You watched with a slack jaw and clenched legs as Eris lined his cock up with Nestaâs entrance before slowly pushing it in.Â
Nestaâs face contorted, her eyes squeezing shut and mouth opening in pleasure as Eris pushed himself to the hilt. His head tilted back, and his jaw clenched with pleasure. You dug your fingernails into the palms of your hand so hard it almost bled, the sensation of watching your matesâ blissed out expressions almost overpowering.
Eris leaned over Nesta, one hand on her thigh keeping it up against his hip while the other planted itself beside her shoulder. It only took a few minutes for him to pound in and out of Nesta, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room and drowning out Nestaâs moans. Eris was fucking Nesta hard, her toes visible curling with each thrust.
As Nestaâs legs began to tremble not ten minutes later, Eris slowed down his thrusts, making her whine. He turned his head towards you, a devilish grin on face. âSo, my dear,â he said to you. âDo you think Nesta deserves to cum?â
Surprise flickered in you, and seemingly in Nesta too, for she turned her head sharply to look at you with wide eyes as Erisâs hand rubbed her clit. âPâŠpleaseâŠâ she begged you, desperation written all across your face.
You were torn in two. You wanted nothing more than to see Nesta cum, to watch her writhe underneath Eris as she rode out a blissful high. But the sinister part of you wanted to show her that you werenât the only one who could take charge.
After a minute, you came to your decision. âNo.â
âWhat?!â Nesta sputtered angrily as Eris pulled out of her, chuckling. Her hair was stuck to her face, her lips swollen from kissing and her cheeks red. Her grey eyes shot you a furious glare.
âThatâs my devilish little fox,â Eris purred, beckoning you over with a finger. âYou took your punishment very well, and I think itâs time for a reward.â
âPlease,â you begged pathetically as you laid down on the bed beside Nesta, desperate for any physical contact.Â
Sensing that, Eris gave you a quick kiss before grabbing your hips and spreading your legs with his knees. You were so soaking wet that after checking your comfort with two fingers, Eris lined himself up with your entrance and slammed into you with ease. The breath was knocked out of your lungs at the impact, the delicious stinging pain of the stretch quickly melting into pleasure as it had with the spanks. He gave you no time to adjust before pounding into you, his soft grunts filling the air.
Beside you, Nesta sat up, a playful look in her eyes replacing the furious one. She grabbed your hair just as Eris had, forcing you to look at her. âSince you decided to be a brat and not let me finish after I was so nice to you, Iâm going to sit on that pretty face of yours to shut you up and use you to finish myself off. Got it?â
About to burst with happiness that your plan worked, you nodded eagerly, shifting your shoulders to get more comfortable. Seeing the smugness on your face, Nesta rolled her eyes but released her hair, spinning her hips to face Eris. She then swung her leg over your face, leaning forward to place her hands on your breasts and play with them as she lowered herself down.
You moaned into her pussy, tasting the mixture of her and Eris on your tongue, eagerly lapping it up. You used the tip of your tongue to flick her clit, making her legs twitch around your head. Repeating patterns of licking and sucking, you gripped Nestaâs hips tightly as she grinded herself into your face.
Erisâs thrusts had somehow gotten more powerful, making you whimper into Nesta. Your wife let out a moan at the vibration, then Erisâs fingers found your clit. You were oversensitive, and as a result moaned repeatedly between Nestaâs thighs. Her legs began to shake around you, her hands squeezing your breasts as she panted, âCan I please cum?â
âYes.â Eris grunted, his own thrusts getting sloppier as he chased his own release. Seconds later, Nesta moaned wantonly, her legs clenching your head and shaking like an earthquake as you sucked on her clit, drawing out her release. She cried out, her orgasm wracking her body as she grinded her hips into your face even more. You happily took it, whimpering as her moans spurred both you and Eris on towards your own release.Â
As Nesta dragged her trembling self off of your body, she flopped down beside you. Her fingers quickly took Erisâs handâs place at your clit, rubbing back and forth harshly. You nearly screamed at the sudden pressure, white hot pleasure pooling in your gut ready to burst.
âCome for me, my love,â Nesta purred in your ear.
That was all it took to send you over the edge. Your muscles clenched as your release shot through you, and you gasped with the sudden wave of pleasure. Nesta murmured praises in your ear as you rode your high, and Eris let out a growling moan as his hips sputtered, your clenching around his cock spurring on his orgasm. You cried out as his cum shot into you, the sensation almost overwhelming and prolonging your high.Â
Finally, the ironclad grip on your hips released and Eris slowly pulled himself out of you. Your legs twitched, all three of you panting in an attempt to catch your breath. Deep down, you felt whole, as if the mating bond had somehow grown even stronger since before the wedding. It was as if a piece of you had been missing before you met Nesta and Eris, and they were slowly filling that void with pieces of their own.
âDoes anyone fancy joining me for a shower? Iâll have someone deliver our favourite snacks afterwards,â Eris asked, standing up and holding his hands out for you and Nesta. Eagerly, you both took his extended hands and headed towards the newly built bathing room.
As the three of you stood under the multiple shower heads, tenderly washing each other when needed, you felt happy tears prick your eyes. The Nesta you met six months ago was a shell of herself, angry, with walls as high as Ramiel that refused to be crumbled by anyone. She was an object in another maleâs court, a pawn in the games he played. An aggressive animal that was to be locked in a cage and only lured out when they had use for her. That Nesta never would have let anyone wash her hair, or cuddle beside her in bed. The Nesta standing beneath the shower with you was a changed female, one who knew her value and was now finally free to make her own choices without threats being made at every corner. She laughed freely, smiled more often, and the life had returned to her eyes.
Eris was a male who you never thought would tenderly kiss your forehead, or kneel before you to help you wash your legs. To be raised in an environment as harsh as Beronâs shadow, you knew how lucky you truly were that his heart stayed good. No matter how often he would deny it, you knew he was a good male.
And so all of the horrors you had faced in the last six months washed away with your happy tears in the shower, your wife and your husband beside you to hold you up no matter what.
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#ialtpwf#eris vanserra x reader#eris vanserra smut#neris smut#neris#neris x reader#neris fluff#nesta archeron smut#nesta archeron#nesta x eris#pro nesta archeron#nesta archeron x reader#nesta archeron fic#acosf au#autumn court#acotar#acotar au#acotar fic#anti inner circle#neris fic
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Hiiii!!!! I just finished watching black clover and found your account and have been binging all your fics the whole day!! You're so good at writing o ma gawd.
If it's not too much trouble could I please request for a fic (maybe make it a lil long?đ„ș) where Fuegoleon and y/n are in an arranged marriage situation with eachother and she's really pretty and they have a big age gap like she's like 6 years younger than him?
She's like his complete opposite- he's a soldier she's not, he liked exercise she likes sitting in a corner of the home library- but they still find themselves attracted to eachother?
I know it's a hyper specific ask so if you don't feel comfortable doing it then that's totally okay too!! But I would appreciate it if you let me know if you're not doing itđ
Hiya~!
I'm glad to hear that you've been on a binge! And that you're enjoying the show ^^
I made this to be a kind of a first meeting thing. And I don't think 6 years is that big of an age gap. Like sure, if you're in your early 20s it might seem so, but once you're in your 30s it's nothing. Speaking as something with an irl 5 year age difference with their spouse ANYWHO, I hope you like this ^^
Pairing: Fuegoleon x f!reader Genre: general/fluff Fanfic type: Oneshot Length: ~0.9k Contains: an arranged marriage prompt, 6 year age difference, reader is an educated woman who isn't the fighting type, office first meeting, smiles and careful tender feelings
What am I doing here? Or. Well. I know perfectly well what Iâm doing here. Iâm here to meet the man Iâm, some day, going to marry. And that day will come rather soon. Far too soon for my liking. Because⊠while I⊠Perhaps itâs just a foolish wish of a woman who reads far too many books, I would have liked to marry someone I love, rather than be married off. Though my father deems me of fitting age to marry. 24. I donât think itâs old, but he deems otherwise. If nothing else, he could have chosen a man whoâs closer to my own age. Or at the very least, someone with whom Iâd have something in common. Damned hells, I donât mind having someone who is older than myself, as the men of my own age are nothing but silly boys. Much too juvenile. While older ones tend to have a head on their shoulders. And 5-6 years in age difference⊠Itâs not too bad. In 2 years heâll be 32 and Iâll be 26. And the further along we go, itâll just become less significant. Something about women growing up sooner than men. I think thatâs where this is going. So⊠if only we had something in common. But what in common would I have with a soldier? I donât fight. I donât do reports. I just⊠read the news and ⊠enjoy my books. A quiet life. A peaceful life. Yeah, I think âpeacefulâ is a better word for it. So⊠this man, who Iâm about to meet⊠I wonder⊠I wonder what heâll be like. Someone rugged and battered by battle and life? Someone broken? Jagged? Filled with sharp edges? Someone unruly? Only a few more moments⊠a few steps⊠And Iâll have⊠an idea on how happy, or unhappy, Iâll becomeâŠ
The doors opened into a study. A room filled with bookshelves. A carpet. And a fireplace in the corner.
A cozy little room.
A room where⊠you didnât mind spending some time in.
âGood day, miss,â a voice welcomed you in.
And as you turned your gaze, there was a man with auburn hair and a stern gaze. But still, he didnât seem⊠unruly or rugged. Strong perhaps, but⊠not downright uninviting.
âPlease forgive me for choosing this place for our first meeting,â he told you. âBut I⊠hoped to meet you first, in private, rather than accompany you out. And while a living room might have been better suited, I⊠thought them to be cold and ⊠distant,â he seemed unsure of the last word. âI understand you enjoy reading,â he gestured around the room. âHence, I chose a place where I hoped you might feel⊠a little more at ease.â
Thoughts.
Being courteous.
He was already thinking about what might make you feel better.
âI understand that⊠a marriage of convenience isnât⊠ideal-â
âIs it not?â You had to ask. Because for most nobility arranged marriages were preferable, actually, as they functioned as business deals. Less complicated than emotions. And as such, it could be run like a business.
More structured.
Thatâs why hoping to get married out of love, was unorthodox.
âIâŠâ he uttered. âI canâtâŠâ he stumbled. And cleared his throat. âIf I may be as frank, my lady, I always thought to marry for love,â he admitted. âBut fate hasnât been as kind.â
A surprised expression rose to you face, as that wasnât what you had expected. To hear such a personal admission so soon. And him to be quite so honest with his feelings.
But⊠his honesty would be something you could trust.
âI understand,â you admitted back. âI share your sentiment,â you continued as your gaze averted.
A flash of surprise passed through him.
âQuite frankly I⊠I intended to treat this like a business deal,â you continued.
ââIntendedâ?â He repeated.
Which made you pause for a moment.
âI⊠suppose so,â you admitted with a slight laugh. âBut for now, I⊠canât say that Iâd mind getting to know you.â
âOh?â There was a hint of amusement in his curious utterance.
âI⊠Well,â it came out as an exhale. âYou have tried to cater to my preferences,â this time it was you who gestured around the room. âFrom the little youâve been told. Which tells me that youâre ⊠an attentive man. And a courteous man. Which reflects the⊠the um⊠feel of the situation,â you tried to best describe it. âAnd youâre being honest with me,â you could feel your heart beating. âIf you were in this with⊠anything less than genuine intent of getting to know me, you wouldnât have admitted preferring to marry for love.â
His chin lowered a little, but he was smiling. He seemed amused by the situation.
âMy lady,â he uttered while gesturing towards the chairs in the room. âI think weâll have a very pleasant discussion, if only youâd entertain it.â
âI donât see why not,â this time there was an amused smile on your face.
Because⊠it had only been a few minutes into the meeting, but⊠you were already getting along.
Yes. It was very likely that youâd have a very pleasant discussion.
#black clover fanfiction#black clover x reader#fuegoleon x reader#fuegoleon vermillion x reader#anon flamelets
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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |
Smoke Signals
Chapter Eight - Sweet as Apple Pie
W/C: 6.9K
Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader
Honesty ensues well into the quiet hours of Halloween.
A/N: this chapter is so full of dialogue....do y'all prefer a lot of dialogue throughout chapters or more scenery descriptions? Or a good amount of both?
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The living room was only illuminated by the flashing, gory scenes from the TV playing A Nightmare on Elm Street. It wasnât your first choice and you had made that clear as you talked your way through the intense parts, keeping your focus on the popcorn bowl in your lap as you scavenged for a melty M&M. You preferred something more lighthearted but your unintentional guest insisted that with it being Halloween and all, it was âlike the lawâ to watch a horror movie. Perhaps you were somewhat okay with it, at least you didnât have to pretend to have fun at a party and you were in fact cozied up on the couch watching a movie while eating your Halloween candy like youâd longed for in the first place. The only difference was the blood and violence playing out on the screen that you hadnât planned to endure.
âYouâre not even paying attention.â Eddie tosses a pillow your way, sending popcorn and M&Ms tumbling all over your lap. Â
âEddie!â You scold.
When you glare at him, youâre met with an expression that can only be recognized as the kind someone exhibits when doing all they can to contain their laughter. Crinkled eyes and pursed lips ready to explode in a fit of boyish giggles. He wasnât drunk anymore, no longer able to escape your incessant teasing should you choose to hold it over him.
A handful of popcorn mixed with candy is flung at him, a piece successfully clinging to his hair and several M&Ms rolling down his chest into the crevices of the couch that would never see the light of day again. Thereâs no ignoring the adorable pout on your lips and the way youâd become such a stubborn thing from the smallest inconvenience. Â
âHavenât I been through enough tonight?â He frowns, dramatically picking the snack out of his hair to toss it toward you, landing somewhere on the rug below for you to some day clog your vacuum with.
Ignoring his question, the bowl is abandoned on the coffee table, movie long forgotten about as you bring your legs up to your chest and shift your eyes directly to him. Beneath his remaining eyeliner, you can make out the exhaustion forming under his eyes, bags growing more intense with every waking hour, his chapped lips parted ever so slightly as the light from the TV flashes over his features.Â
You begin to feel selfish for changing into your fluffy pajamas earlier, your pants a checkered orange and black pattern while you opted to wear a well loved gray t-shirt with faded letters that could barely be made out anymore. Eddie remained in his black jeans and tattered cut off, his jacket that previously adorned your shoulders hung snugly on the hook near the door. Â
There was no way you had anything that would accommodate his long legs although you could probably get by with offering him one of your larger shirts. You wonder if his skin is covered in goosebumps or if he tends to run hot and remain unbothered by the chilliness of your home. Embarrassingly so, you hadnât learned how to use the fireplace yet. Blankets were a necessity and you found yourself cuddling up with nearly five at a time as the weather grew more frigid.
âI meant to ask, what is your costume? Yourself?â You question. An attempt to ease into offering him something warmer to wear as well as genuine curiosity.
âNo?â He leans forward laughing, his attention bouncing between you and the movie. âOzzy. Ozzy Osbourn.â He states proudly.
His tattoos draw you in as he brings his arms up to cross over his chest, his posture uncharacteristically comfortable on the opposite end of your couch. You were sure he was almost sober so it must have been sleep deprivation allowing him such luxury. A laugh bubbles in the back of your throat as you process his costume, something so convenient as it was practically his actual wardrobe, only a tad more revealing than what you were used to him wearing.
âWhat, so you just smudge some eyeliner on and you're Ozzy?â You giggle.
âOh.â He scoffs. âAnd you put your hair in pigtails and youâre Dorothy?â
âUm, no?â You cock a brow. âA lot of work went into my costume. It just looks like you shredded up your poor shirt and smudged black all over your eyes.âÂ
A giggle vibrates through his body, an actual giggle, almost a squeal as he buries his head in his hands. Another postcard for the space in your brain that was becoming larger with each interaction.
âAlso, arenât you cold? Iâm fucking freezing and Iâm covered in layersââ
Eddie continues to laugh, the image of a slap happy boy becoming clearer and clearer. His heavy hand makes contact with his thigh, deep chuckles following as you study the crows feet forming at the corner of his eye. Extra prominent tonight.
âI amâIâm fucking cold.â He throws his head back.
Itâs contagious, the energy lingering in the air as you join in. Youâre unaware of whatâs so funny; it seems the mundane act of being alive is hilarious.
Tears threaten to spill, the kind that donât come around very often; the kind that hold pools of joy, seas of dopamine longing to spill down your cheeks. A salty mess that would paint the prettiest memory, glossy eyelids and parted lashes more immaculate than any piece of art Eddie could imagine. Before you can allow him to indulge in such a sight, fat tears of euphoria are sucked back in, any excess wiped on the pads of your fingers. Â
âDo youâŠwant a shirt? I-I dunno if I have any thatâll fit comfortably butâŠif youâre cold? Or I might have a sweatshirt!â You hop up, recovering from your fit of laughter in your moment of realization.
You donât give him time to answer, immediately retreating to your room. His heart feels as if it's gnawing through his chest at the way you worry about him; the fact that you would even be concerned for his well being is still something he would never get used to. Not many people have offered him that courtesy throughout his life, always equating his family name to something undeserving of any friendly gesture.
When you return, an oversized navy blue sweatshirt in hand with a grin on your face, he swears his heart convulses on the spot. And when your fingers brush against his as you offer it to him, his lungs are rendered breathless, the desire to linger a little longer pulling him in like gravity. Your soft skin against his rough fingertips is enough to mess with his brain chemistry, reducing him to a useless man at your mercy, though heâd never admit it. Not because he didnât want to but because he was him, and why would someone as delicate and kind hearted as you ever settle for someone as damaged and twisted as him?
Someone so dainty, so lovely, would never in a million years look at him and find him desirable.
When he thanks you, it comes out as an ungrateful mumble, his eyes suddenly glued to his lap in insecurity. That look on his face that youâd come to recognize, a look of absence. His mind fed on him and sucked him dry of emotion, eyes blank and devoid of the life that just seconds ago they were so full of.
âYou okay?â You ask, a gentle approach, voice velvety soft with hints of concern.
He doesnât give you a verbal answer, only nodding while his gaze stays on his lap, the sweatshirt held weakly between his ringed fingers. His silence is reason enough to believe that it was a lie. You just couldnât put your finger on what exactly had happened in the time youâd left the room to you handing him an article of clothing.
âDo you wantâŠto go to sleep?â
The question pierces his doughy brain, stuffed with self depreciation and alienation, only a smidge of room available to process your words. But even as the words puncture his thoughts, the self hatred wonât deflate fast enough. So he stares. He stares at you, those big chocolatey eyes dipped in sadness and self loathing, the ambience now melancholy. An ache seeps into your chest, traveling up your throat and stinging your eyes at the sight of such a sorrowful man who had just moments ago blessed your ears with his deep laughter and looked at you with such glee. Suddenly he was gone and once again, he was chasing his inner monologue, you could tell by the way he stared off into the distance, how he had removed himself from the room momentarily.
âHey, whatâs going on?â You crouch in front of him, the blue light from the TV the only thing allowing you to map out his features.
âNothing.â He whispers, snapping out of his trance.
His irises warm up, only slightly, but you can still make out the muted glaze cast over them leftover from his moment of despair. He isnât out of the woods yet.
âI-Iâm fine. Sorry, was justâŠthinking.â He mutters, slipping the sweatshirt over his head, the material fitting comfortably over his torso, hair now frizzier than before.
âWhat are you thinking about?â Â
You almost lose him again, thoughts swallowing him and nearly drowning him right before you. But the touch of your hand over his pulls him out, a token of your kindness. A wordless reassurance that reels him back in. Â
âEverything.â He sniffles, head shaking as if to ward off the waterworks.
Eddie doesnât let any tears fall, withholds them. Forces them back into his tear duct, regretting the vulnerability he was further pushing onto you.
âLike what?â You gently push, thumb stroking over the back of his hard working hand.
Moments follow your question, contemplation behind his gaze while he hesitates. The world seemed to never be patient enough for him. So you would. Â
For him, you would.
As the gap of silence grows larger, you only give him more encouragement in the form of your thumb continuing to stroke his knuckles, your stare soft on his profile. There was no rush, not when heâd just hours ago welcomed you into his tortured past. Not when his nose crinkled as his eyes grew wet again, lashes coated and lip bitten between his teeth anxiously.
âUmââ He chokes out, not a single tear allowed past his waterline.
You offer a squeeze of your hand, sympathy pouring from your touch into him. He only tenses up at the sentiment, its effect foreign to him.
âI should go.â Dragging his hands down his face, heâs puzzled when you stop him from standing.
âEddie.â You maintain eye contact with him, even as his eyes dart around the room, you attempt to keep him focused on you. âI donât know whatâs bugging you butâŠit canât be anything crazier than what youâve told me tonight.â Â
Uncertainty pools in his dark irises, honey hues nearly gone in the almost-dark room. The TV lighting only offers you the tiniest crumb of espresso and swirling caramel that usually brought him to life. Though, you arenât entirely sure theyâd even be there had you turned the lights on, his grim demeanor clearly yanking away any happiness he had experienced moments prior.
âI-IâwhyâŠwhy are you trying to help me?â He struggles to get the question out, appearing to be engaged in an internal battle, almost as if he was blindly attempting to make his way back to you, his mind holding him hostage.
You canât hide the surprise taking over your face, the utter horror at the fact that he would ask such a thing. Maybe he regretted sharing everything now that he was allegedly sober again? But that didnât change your feelings on the topic, you cared. Whether he word-vomited due to his scattered brain thriving off the alcohol or whether he was stone sober, his feelings mattered to you and you wanted him to know it.
âBecause youâre a person, Eddie.â You begin, once again taking his reluctant, clammy hand and draping your touch over his knuckles. âAny person deserves compassion. So whatâs bugging you? I wonât judge. Promise.â
Holding your pinky out, an empathetic smile paints your lips.
âPinky promise.â
Within seconds his eyes go from dark discs of despair to those famous honey pools of fondness. You take note the way he doesnât hesitate to wrap his pinky around yours, warmth blossoming in your chest and spreading all throughout your body. And if he needs another moment of quiet after that, he doesnât communicate it but you gladly welcome it. Â
My feelings. My feelings are bugging me. Taking me hostage.
Itâs what he wants to say but realistically he shoves the dreadful words into the back of his throat as he comes up with something else, another way to convey his thoughts without simply outing himself, making a fool out of himself that you would surely laugh at. Â
âI-uh, Iâm not very good at this.â Eddie tries to escape the conversation.
To be fair, he did the same thing with his therapist, it wasnât anything personal. It was his own flaw. But you may have better luck than his therapist, he regrets. Simply because he would become something he didnât want you to see him as: an emotionally stunted boy with too many complicated feelings, love drunk on the first girl who had given him more than the time of day. Just because you were nice to him, didnât entitle him to reciprocated feelings.
âThatâs okay. I donât think anyone is.â You whisper.
Eddieâs eyes shut tightly, his thoughts too painful to voice yet he forces them outâor rather they claw their way out of his throat the second he looks into your begging eyes. Wordless pleas reach out to him as his brain threatens to shut down any and all communications.
âI justâI donâtâŠI shouldnât even be here.â He sighs deeply. âI-I donât deserve to be here.â
At his admission, you find it difficult to voice anything comforting. Any words you had waiting for him were swallowed at the raw emotion he was displaying. The look on your face forces him to continue, he needs to fix the situation but he fears he may just make it worse and chase you further away. He had been digging his own grave for some time now, never learning when to just stop and lay in it.
âChrissyâum, Chrissy.â He whispers, eyes fluttering shut.
None of it made sense and he was trying his hardest to wrap things back around and allow you to make the connection in your head.
âYouâyou remind me ofâŠC-Chrissy.â A tear trails down his cheek, his hand rapidly wiping it away as he pathetically attempts to repair the conversation.
Instead of offering another squeeze to his hand, you make your way onto the couch next to him, thigh dangerously close to his as you run a hand up and down his back. You expect the discussion to end there but he only continues.
âAndâand that scares me. Cause, it-it shouldâve been me, I shouldâve been deadâI should be dead!â Eddieâs face grows more red, the topic clearly weighing heavy on his heart. âI canâtâI canât do it again.â More tears flow down his tinted cheeks, uncontrollable at this point.
âIt feelsâit feels l-like itâs going toâto happen again.â He becomes more and more worked up, barely breathing while he rushes the words out in one breath. âLikeâlike the universe or some shit i-is gonna punish me.â Â
Your eyes sting, that uncomfortable frown beginning to pull at the corners of your mouth as you watch him self destruct before you. Something youâd never ask of him though he was voluntarily spilling the contents of his bleeding heart into your hands.
âOkay, okay.â You begin to soothe.
âI d-donât get good things.â âG-good things donâtâdonât happen to me.â He hiccups.
âShhh, you donât need to get upset with yourself.â
Bravely, you go to use the corner of a nearby blanket to blot at the tears trailing down his face to which he flinches away, shaking his head. That alone would normally be enough to send you to the other side of the couch, bashfully avoiding eye contact until he took the initiative. But something within you realized that he shouldnât be left to take the initiative. Not when he was displaying such pain, such vulnerability that you were convinced not many people had ever seen. Â
âGod, so pathetic.â He utters under his shaky breath.
âHey.â You softly scold, hand wrapping around his forearm. He doesnât flinch at your advances this time. âYou are not pathetic.â
âYou donât have to do that.â
âEddie.â
âDonât throw me a pity party.â He grits.
âI am not throwing you a pity party. Stop that.â
Itâs out of character, the way you stand up to him. If it were anyone else you probably wouldnât have made it this far into the conversation but you can feel your blood boiling as he dismisses his emotions. You canât sit by and allow him to continue throwing punches at himself. Your sudden anger appears to silence him, his glassy eyes glancing at you in disbelief but still obeying your demand.
âIâm being a hypocrite but I-I justâŠstop.â You whisper, the devastated look on your face enough to bring him to his knees if he were standing. Instead he remains seated with his focus solely on you.
âI knowâŠâ You search for the right words. âI know what itâs like to feel like you donât deserve good things.â
Eddie doesnât interject your speech, only listens intently with sad eyes and wet cheeks. He doesnât deserve the time day let alone your dedication to his sorrows and worries. Â
âI, um, I grew up practically raising my siblings.â You begin to explain. âAnd, um, that responsibility really makes it feel like your needs come last. And it just gets worse and worse as the years go on becauseâŠitâs hard. Feeling emotionally neglected while tending to everyone elseâs emotions.â
His gaze doesnât once wander, completely devoted to you, to your story. Thereâs not an ounce of judgment seeping out of him. The familiar feeling you were so used to when you opened up every once in a blue moon where you felt deeply misunderstood and silently criticized was nowhere to be found. All you could make out was pure empathy. Compassion. Curious brown eyes searched into your soul, not just scraping the surface but fully diving into the depths you so willingly lead him to.
âI-I donât know what itâs like to lose someone like thatâlike you did Chrissy.â You tread carefully, as if you were afraid to even mention her name. âI meanâI lost my dad recently butâŠI didnât witness anything and it was because of health issues. We werenât close and I actuallyâŠreally hated him.â You nod, staring meanly into the carpet.
âBut, I, um, I know what itâs like to keep people out. Itâs not fun but itâs all we know isnât it?â You chance a laugh, earning you the tiniest upturn of his lips. âAnd I mean, things are fine with my siblings and my mom, I guess. But it still feels like I need to shut them out. To protect their emotions. And for some reason it justâŠmakes sense to leave them out of it? I dunno.â Your voice trails off, confidence wavering.
âIt does make sense.â Eddie speaks up, voice scratchy.
âYeah?â
âMhm.â He bites his lip, canine digging into his own flesh before releasing it to speak again. âFeels like they wouldnât get it. Or they shouldnât have to. At least thatâs how it feels with Wayne. I know I can tell him anything butâŠwhy bother him with all the shit going on in my life when the man has already gone through hell because of me?â Â
He takes in a deep breath before sighing and continuing. âFuckinâ had to raise a kid that wasnât even his.â
Thereâs a certain disappointment to Eddieâs tone, a condescending scowl splayed across his face, only directed at himself as he twists his rings around his fingers. Â
âUm.â He pipes up again, seeming to snap himself out of a trance heâd lured himself into. ââNough about me.â A smile spreads over his pretty lips, not a genuine one.
âEddie.â Like silk, your tone is soft.
âStop doing that. You donât have to do that. Not around me.â
His chest deflates with an exhale, his pretty eyes still wet and wandering around the room. Thereâs a lost child hidden within them, someone desperately trying to cling to the current adult reality but appearing to get lost in the process. That look was too familiar and there was a sliver of relief in knowing you werenât the only one who wore it but it yanked on the most tender parts of your heart to know Eddie was suffering just the same as you, if not more.
âT-tell me about Chrissy.â You whisper. âOnly if you want to.â Â
When Eddieâs roaming gaze finally lands on you, he never would have expected to be met with such sincerity. Not a drop of malice in your voice, not one trace of aggression. The kind that he was buried in when forced to confront a whole town who suspected he was responsible for her death. Every mention of her name was always followed by an accusatory finger and seething anger, pitchforks practically aiming for him. The worst part was he didnât blame them. Now, he didnât mention the hellish underworld beneath Hawkins to you and had explained that the earthquake took Chrissy with a vengeful force right in front of him. You had no reason to believe him, but you did. You couldâve believed he was a murderer as everyone else. You didnât. A piece of him wishes he could go into detail about the horrors that once lurked under Hawkins but heâd already breached his contract enough telling you that he was attacked by âcreaturesâ, never going into full detail and telling you that they were gigantic bats. And you didnât seem to mind, never pushing for further explanation, only taking what he was willingly giving to you.
âIâŠâ He begins. âIâŠsheâŠshe wasâŠâ
âIâm sorry, you donât have toââ
âNo.â He whispers. His fingertips swipe underneath his eyes, collecting a fair amount of running eyeliner. âI-I uh, I want to.â He nods to himself.
âChrissy was uh, was one of the good ones. Not a mean bone in her fuckinâ body.â Eddie starts. âEven if she was in the âpopular crowdâ she never bullied anyone. She thought I was mean and scary at first butâŠshe neverâŠshe never showed it. Sheâd wave to me every now and then.â He laughs at the memory, only making your soul ache.
âNow that I think about it, maybe she only waved because she was scared of me.â He chuckles in self deprecation. âCanât blame her. Everyoneâs scared of me. Always have been.â
âIâm not.â Â
Your sudden interruption has his brows knitting together, a softness overcoming his eyes. He was a mess of a man and you continued to tend to him as if he was deserving of any of your attention. He wasnât, and he truly believed that.
âWhat?â Eddie attempts to buy some time, stupidly racking his brain for something of some kind of intelligence.
âIâm not scared of you.â
âIâthought you were. I mean, I wasnât exactlyâŠnice to you when you first moved in. I yelled at you all the timeâyou donât have to lie to me.â Â
âI used to be, yeah. Iâm scared of practically everyone before I get to know them so it wasnât just you. But Iâm not anymore.â You explain honestly. âKeep telling me about her. If itâs not too much. She sounded like she was a lovely person.â Â
âYeah. Yeah, she was. Had a crush on her for like forever. Like since middle school when we kinda hung out at the talent show.â Suddenly, heâs shaking his head again, as if to erase his previous thought. âItâs stupid. âM twenty four and Iâm whining aboutââ
âStop.â You whisper, a bold hand squeezing at his knee. The action sends his nerves into a frenzy.
âNothing you say is stupid.â
No one has ever been so patient, so accommodating over his feelings and deepest tragedies showcasing themselves in his darkest hours. Itâs strange enough that he begins to wonder if someone is pulling a prank on him. If heâs being played like a violin only to be laughed at when the curtain is pulled back. He couldnât help it, it was all he had come to learn after all. Eddie knew you didnât have it in you to commit such a heinous act against another individual but his mind had been poisoned time and time again, only sending him into a spiral of âwhat-ifsâ any time positivity lingered just out of his reach to grasp if he was brave enough.
âI barely even knew her.â He seemingly gives up, hand lightly smacking down on his thigh. Your touch remains on his knee, burning a hole into his bones as he stares at it.
âThatâs okay. You clearly care about her.âÂ
It makes him want to scream, the way you validate every sentence he utters out. Itâs not what heâs used to, his therapist never even gives him this amount of attention. And itâs not fair that a soul like yours had been damned to hear his problems and witness everything that made him ugly. Eddie was convinced that his soul was tainted and if he imagined what it looked like, it was an inky black stain on reality with hardly any signs of life. If he only knew that in the two months you had known him, he was the most vibrant and adoring soul you had ever come across.
âIâwe justâwe really connected. Right before she died.â He manages to struggle through his mind demanding that he internalizes his thoughts. âIt feltâgood. She saw meâŠfor me. Instead of someâsome motherfucker that poisoned the townâs precious ecosystem and she didnât see me asâŠa freak.â
You offer a nod, an encouragement for him to keep going. His heart that he kept locked up tight in his chest had been slowly oozing out of him, trickling into your living room. Â
âShe, um, she had a boyfriend. Jason.â He clears his throat, staring at the ceiling. âHe was an asshole. Not to her, he treated her real nice. But when Chrissy wasnât around he was a douchebag. Started a manhunt for me when shit went down. He thought Iâheâhe thought I killed her andâand sacrificed her?â Eddie almost questions, as if he couldnât believe his own words.
âAll becauseâŠI was the leader of a Dungeons and Dragons club.â He admits bashfully. You only let your thumb glide over the rip in his jeans, a comforting gesture. âEveryone, uh, thought it was a cult. Satanic panic and all that shit.â
âThatâs fucked.â
âI agree. Super fucked. Especially because it dragged everyone down with me. Dustin basically put his life on the line for me, Iâll never be able to make it up to him.â
As he expresses his gratitude, Eddie pulls his right arm out of the hoodie sleeve, pulling the material up to display his bicep to you. The one with the very badly doodled character, somewhat resembling a gnome. Â
âButâŠâ He drags out, slapping the ink proudly. âThis did really excite him at least.â
You examine the drawing, taking his bicep in your hand without a second though as you try to determine exactly what you were looking at. You didnât want to offend him but you genuinely couldnât make out the picture. It was messy and scribbly and could have been created by a five year old. âEddie, Iâm sorry butâwhat is it?â Â
âDustin drew it. Itâs his D&D character.â Â
âOh!â You smile brightly.
âYou donât have to pretend it's good, heâs a shit artist.â
âNot shit. JustâŠinexperiencedâŠmaybe?â You joke, wincing at your own words.
âVery.â Eddie confirms. âDustinâs more of a brains kinda guy. Gareth and I took care of all the artwork, yâknow like logos for the club and our bandââ
âYou had a band?â A grin sneaks past your lips.
âIâuhâyeah.â He admits with defeat, his shoulders slumping.
Itâs only then that you realized you still had been tracing your fingers over the inked drawing, not one protest stopping you from doing so. In fact, Eddie only glanced down briefly and smiled, his cheeks tinting pink. It wasnât clear whether it was because of your touch or because of embarrassment.
âHang on, when did this all end up being about me?â He glares at you with mock anger.
âNo, no, no. Donât turn this around. What was your bandâs name?â
âJesus Christ.â He whispers, distress evident in his tone though his face only conveys amusement.
Eddie didnât have to entertain the playful conversation that had suddenly engulfed the two of you. He didnât have to banter back or let you touch his arm. He didnât have to talk about Chrissy even though his mind was plaguing him and he was the one who brought her up. Nothing was required of him and you made sure he was aware of that.
But oh, how you reveled in his endearing blanket of an aura as he allowed you to peek behind the oh so heavy curtain that hid his deepest and most tragic thoughts.
â
Marvinâs Grocery had become more and more familiar with your frequent trips over the weeks. You were determined to perfect an apple pie recipe that would make anyone melt at the taste. Donnie had extended an invite to her famous Thanksgiving dinner and though it was weeks away, preparations were still under way, your oven enduring more use than it ever had in its short lifetime. Â
Guilt ate away at you as you placed the freshly baked pie on the counter to cool. You didnât want to be an intruder but Donnie was so insistent when gracing you with the plans back at the supermarket. It would be your first Thanksgiving away from home and you were set on spending it alone, preparing to create a one person feast and pig out all by your lonesome. Now, you were going to be faced with at least 30 other guests according to Donnie. That was intimidating enough and when you tried to reject her invitation to save yourself some embarrassment, she only interrupted you, stating that everyone is going to love you and that even your short time in the spotlight at the Halloween bash left a great impression. That everyone wanted to get to know you.
Then she bestowed the responsibility of one dessert upon you. Everyone was required to bring at least one dish, store bought or homemadeâŠit didnât matter as long as you contributed. You had weeks to perfect it and though you didnât need to go through the trouble, the people pleaser in you raged on.
Cinnamon and nutmeg graced your nose, a comforting scent that had you salivating and yearning for a piece of warm, gooey apple pie. The kitchen was a mess, bowls scattered along the counter top and a bag of flour leaking onto the floor. You were usually consistent in keeping clean as you worked but the daunting task of perfecting your pie held your complete and undivided attention. Â
Buttery, flaky crust called your name as you finished folding your laundry. The TV blared some popular sitcom that had to have been new as you didnât recognize it. Regardless, the pie had interested you more.
It came out beautifully, nearly commercial ready with the criss cross crust and everything. This was your best outcome yet and you only hope it tasted just as delicious as it looked. Youâd finally perfected the design and it didnât completely deflate on itself this time, a win in your book.
Regretfully, you cut into the perfect dessert, forming the perfect triangle and plating it as delicately as possible. This was your baby as far as you were concerned and the passion that had gone into it was going to be recognized, even if only by you. A quick dollop of whipped cream is placed on top, the only thing missing was ice cream although you werenât the biggest fan of pairing the two treats, satisfied with just the baked slice of heaven.
It was too flawless, the slice had been perfectly cut and presented like a five star restaurant had prepared it. Such perfection could not be recreated and you simply needed at least one witness to applaud your work or at the very least acknowledge your newly discovered baking skills. Â
â
Two knocks and no movement. YetâŠ
The breeze nips at your cheeks, leaving you to regret not throwing a sweater on even if only for a few seconds. Your hand shields the fresh slice of pie, a desperate attempt to conceal its warmth. Your masterpiece would not be spoiled at the hands of the inevitably changing weather. Â
Another two knocks. A bit more urgent this time.
You can hear shuffling just beyond the door, an eager shiver running down your spine. Irritation begins to build within you at the stinging sensation at the tip of your ears, the temperature being especially unforgiving.
Two more knocks.
âIâm cominâ, Iâm cominâ.â Â
You hear the grumble and canât help but feel your spirits lift.
âWhaâBambi?â Eddie reveals you, a shivering mess on the porch with your hair in disarray and a plate of pie in your trembling hands.
Without hesitation, he steps to the side and waves you in. Thereâs a certain coziness to him, his hair extra frizzy as if he had been laying on it and his eyes a tad puffy. Almost like a large teddy bear. His black sweatshirt swallows his torso although heâs wearing shorts, a psychotic move in this kind of weather. Â
âTry this.â You demand, holding the plate out in front of him.
His eyes only stare widely at the treat, grogginess obvious in the way he rubs his eyes and yawns. Another postcard moment.
âWhat is it?â He asks gravelly. It just about melts you into a puddle on his floor.
âApple pie!â Â
Your enthusiasm takes him back, a surprised expression pulling at his features as he hesitantly takes it. It crosses his mind that you mentioned taking on baking recently, a slow shift at The Bourbon pulling you both into mindless talk as you cleaned. He gathers that you were at the peak of your sugar rush, no doubt stealing licks of batter and tastes of sugar as you baked.  If this was the result of you baking all day, he needed a minute to wake up.
âOkay, okay.â He sighs, brushing past you to set the plate on his kitchen counter, snatching a fork from one of the drawers.
âWhy do you need me of all people to taste test?â He asks a bit unkindly. He doesnât mean it but you did wake him from a deep slumber, one of the best naps he had in a while. Probably the only nap heâd taken in a while as he recalls.
You donât seem to recognize his irritation, thankfully too caught up in the bubbling excitement around your homemade treat. âCause itâs for Thanksgiving and I really want it to be good.â You explain, bouncing on the balls of your feet impatiently.
An eye roll has you blushingâit shouldnâtâbut it does. All of Eddieâs little quirks whether they were forming out of grumpiness or not, only made him all the more endearing. The fork finally meets his mouth, heaven about to bless his taste budsâor at least you hope. Â
As he chews, he makes it a point to keep a straight face, watching you squirm with anticipation being far too fun for him. Â
âHow is it?â Â
Eddie shrugs. Okay, maybe not all of his quirks were endearing.
âEddie!â You wail, hands gripping the edge of the counter.
âAlright, alright.â He mumbles, taking a step back as he swallows. The crust crumbles just right on his tongue, warm gooey apple goodness filling his taste buds and sending him right back to his childhood. The happy parts. âReally fuckinâ good. You have any more?â He asks, going in for another bite, a smug grin displaying across your face.
âNo, you were being rude.â
âWhâcâmon.â He just about whines as you steal the plate from his reach, tucking it behind your back.
âSay sorry.â
âIâm not sorry, now give it back.â An adorable frown pulls at his mouth.
âEddie.â
âBambi.â
Big brown eyes stare into yours, stubborn intent evident behind them. It instantly fades when you give him your best pout, your eyes shining with a silent plea. With a deep sigh and another eye roll, he gives in. It was like stealing candy from a baby except even easier as he fumbled his stoic expression and contorted his face into something more apologetic.
ââM sorry.â He mumbles.
âYouâre what?â You smile, acting oblivious. Â
âIâm sorry!â Eddie throws his hands up in surrender. âHappy?â Â
âI guess.â You sigh, placing the beloved dessert back on the counter for him to devour.
âWhy you baking so much?â Â
His mouth is crammed with pie after he asks, crumbs resting at the corners of his mouth and whipped cream decorating his upper lip. You determine that heâs a messy eater, sloppily shoveling pie into his mouth until it physically canât hold anymore.
âThanksgiving. Iâm in charge of a dessert. What are you bringing?â
âNuffinâ.â He mumbles through a mouthful.
âWhy not?â You practically whine.
With a rough swallow, Eddie licks his lips, leaving no trace of the coarse sugar that was previously sprinkled on the crust. When you glance down, the plate is empty, the pie had vanished into Eddieâs stomach.
âIâm not going.â He says simply.
Not going? If he couldnât go back to Indiana for Thanksgiving, where was he going to go?
âI donât uh, I donât do holidays.â He elaborates.
âDonât do holidays.â You scoff. âYou did Halloween just fine.â Â
It should gross you out when he retrieves a carton of milk from the fridge and starts chugging it straight from the container. It doesnât. Wiping his mouth with his sleeve, he sets the milk on the counter, eyes meeting yours as his elbows come to rest on the counter, his head propped up in his hands.
âThen thatâs the only holiday I do.âÂ
âYou have to go.â You whine like a child, stomping your foot.
âI donât have to do anything.â Thereâs a certain kind of attitude in his tone, a playful attitude that wasnât actually meant to offend you, only to spur you on.
âYou have to go or else you canât have any more pie!â You complain. âPlease Eddie! Youâre like one of the only people Iâll know, you canât not go.â
Your worried eyes and pouty lips are convincing enough though he might as well have a little fun. Get under your skin.
âNow youâre being mean.â He juts out his lip.
The look on your face is priceless, eyes widening and mouth hung open in shock. âAm not! Youâre going to Thanksgiving because if you donât then Iâm gonna feel guilty the whole time Iâm trying to pig out.â
âGuilty?â An amused grin plasters itself to his face, his figure returning to tower over you as he ceases leaning over the counter.
âYeah, you canât spend Thanksgiving alone.â Â
He swears there are tears in your eyes, making it unexplainably hard for him to tell you no. Then again, he always found it hard to tell you no. Just last week you and Jett begged to decorate the bar with pumpkins and other Fall objects. The only reason he said yes was because you looked up at him with those perfectly pleading puppy dog eyes, your hands behind your back as you swayed back and forth. And because you offered to use the pumpkins from your porch, the barâs dwindling budget sure to be untouched.
âTell you whatâŠâ Eddie begins his proposition, you listening eagerly as you lean over the counter with your head propped in your hands as he had done seconds ago. âIf you make me my own personal pieââ
âDone.â You chirp.
âI will consider it.â He finishes, glaring at you.
âHow aboutâŠI give you the rest of the pie I have sitting at home right now and you promise youâll go?â You light up at your own idea.
âI will consider it.â He repeats.
âNo deal.âÂ
You cross your arms stubbornly, eyes closing as you tilt your head up in a snobbish manner. A groan escapes him, you peeking an eye open only to see his nose scrunched in defeat, his tongue licking the back of his teeth and clicking.
He lost the battle.
âFine.â He sighs, exhaling through his nostrils in annoyance. Â
You donât miss the tiny smile tugging on his lips as he collects the remaining whipped cream from the plate and licks it from his fingers. His front was faltering, the big scary dog ready and willing to fall at your feet if you just said the word.Â
~end~
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Something Immortal | Biker!Austin Butler x OC (part 13)
(gif source: redbelles)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12
plot summary: In the gritty underbelly of a city ruled by werewolf biker gangs, Austin Butler reigned supreme as the ruthless leader of his pack. A man of unwavering ferocity, he lied, killed, and stole without remorse, living by a code of violence that defined his kind. Yet, even Austin harbored a secret weakness â his childhood friend Bonnie Barlow, the one woman he had loved in silence for years. Bonnie's father had once been part of Austin's gang, but after his death, she fled the treacherous world of the werewolves, unable to stomach the endless cycle of crime and brutality. For five years, she remained a fugitive from her own nature, until a fateful night when her life took an irreversible turn. Freshly released from a two-year prison stint, Austin returned to his pack, reveling in the debauchery of their den. But his revelry was cut short by a frantic call from Bonnie, pleading for his aid. Rushing to her side, he uncovered a grim truth â in a desperate act of self-defense against her abusive boyfriend, Bonnie had taken a life, awakening the dormant werewolf within her. As the next full moon loomed, she would undergo her first agonizing transformation, a fate she had always dreaded. Defying the pack's ruthless code, Austin sheltered Bonnie, guiding her through the excruciating metamorphosis that tore through her body each lunar cycle. In the depths of her torment, their bond rekindled, blossoming into a love they had long suppressed. Nights of shared laughter and reminiscence gave way to stolen moments of tenderness, their connection deepening with every passing moon. Yet, their newfound bliss was a fragile thing, forever threatened by the harsh realities that governed their world. For Bonnie was branded a deserter, her very existence a betrayal in the eyes of the pack. If Austin's treachery was uncovered, retribution would be swift and merciless.
pairings: biker!austin butler x oc
word count: 1352
warnings/notes: violence, blood
Chapter 13: A Deadly Showdown
The crowd fell silent as he emerged, his rugged figure cutting an imposing image in the dim light. He fixed his icy gaze on Jerry, who held the attention of his own faction with a venomous tirade against him. Jerry turned and their eyes met. There was a long, tense pause.
The crowd fell silent as he emerged, his rugged figure cutting an imposing image in the dim light. He fixed his icy gaze on Jerry, who held the attention of his own faction with a venomous tirade against him. Jerry turned and their eyes met. There was a long, tense pause.
"Jerry," Austin's voice sliced through the cold night air, silencing the last of the whispers like a fatal blow. "You've made your challenge. Now face me."
Jerry sneered in response. "With pleasure." He gestured towards an open area, signaling for the gang to make room.
In a world where physical power often dictated survival, a challenge between werewolves was a deadly dance - brutal, swift and unforgiving. The two men stepped into the cleared space; Austinâs muscles taut beneath his worn leather jacket, Jerry flexing his fingers in anticipation.
As the moon shone down upon them, they transformed in synchrony; bodies rippling and contorting as they took on their powerful wolf forms. The crowd watched in silence as Austin and Jerry circled one another, snarls echoing through the forest surrounding them.
They sprang at each other, a clash of fur and fangs that echoed through the silent woods. Austin landed a heavy blow on Jerryâs flank before being swiped aside by Jerryâs massive paw. With a growl that shook the trees around them, they engaged again, locked in a deadly battle for dominance.
Meanwhile Gwen âBlack Widowâ Martin looked on with predatory interest as she saw her opportunity to seize control while everyone was distracted with the fight. She moved stealthily towards Bonnie but was stopped short by Bear standing protectively over her motionless form. His eyes flashed a warning that she didn't dare ignore.
Back in the clearing, Austin managed to sink his teeth into Jerryâs shoulder causing him to howl in pain and retreat momentarily. But Jerry was quick to retaliate, lunging at Austin with renewed vigor. Despite his injuries, Austin held his ground. The memory of Bonnie lying battered and bruised fueled a seething rage within him that no pain could quell.
He charged at Jerry, his sharp claws raking against the larger wolfâs side. Jerry tried to fight back but with each passing moment, Austin's attacks became more relentless, more unforgiving. His eyes told of a promise - a promise of retribution for every bruise on Bonnieâs body.
All around them, the gang watched in anticipation as Austin and Jerry battled with primal ferocity. Nature's law dictated the outcome: only the strongest would emerge victorious. And tonight, Austin was determined to be the victor for Bonnie.
As the fight wore on, Jerry found himself growing weaker as his injuries began to impair his movements. His once fierce snarls now mere whimpers, his formidable stature beginning to falter under Austin's relentless assault.
Seeing his opportunity, Austin lunged at Jerry, sinking his powerful jaws into Jerry's throat. Jerry let out a strangled, choked-off howl, struggling to free himself from Austin's iron grip. His struggles were futile and slowly, he began to weaken - his scarlet life ebbing away onto the dampened soil. The crowd watching in silence. Releasing his grip, Austin stepped back and watched as Jerry collapsed onto the ground, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged gasps.
Defeated, Jerryâs massive wolf form shrank back into his human figure. His eyes, once full of venomous wrath, were now glossed over with the blinding clarity of imminent death. He reached out a trembling hand towards Austin, his voice barely a whisper as he gasped, âYouâve won, Boss.â
Austin didnât speak; his beastly form dissolved back to his human self as he stood over Jerryâs dying body. The silence that hung over the clearing was deafening, only broken by Jerry's rattling breaths fading slowly into the night. A sense of finality fell across the clearing as Jerryâs hand dropped to the ground, his eyes staring blindly into the moonlit sky. The tension that had been coiled so tightly within the onlookers seemed to collectively unwind in an audible sigh. Austin stood silent; his blonde hair and rugged features illuminated by the harsh moonlight.
He took a moment before turning towards the rest of the pack wiping the blood from his mouth. âAnyone else want to challenge me tonight?â His voice echoed through the still night. The crowd remained silent, none daring to meet his piercing gaze.
"Good," he murmured, âThose of you who donât like the way I run things can pack your shit and go find another pack!â His eyes darkened. âAnd if any of you have anything to say about BonnieâŠyouâll be the next to die.â
Austin's gaze roved over the pack, daring them to challenge him. His ironclad authority was absolute; there would be no more challenges tonight. The crowd began to disperse as Austin walked away from Jerry's lifeless body, leaving it as a gruesome testament to his power.
He made his way toward Bonnie. Bear's imposing figure hunch over protectively beside her. Austin paused in front of them, a dichotomy of emotions flickering within his icy eyes. He spared a glance at Bear, silently communicating his gratitude.
"Is she...?" Austin trailed off, unsure of what to say.
Bear looked up at Austin with a knowing look. "She's alive," he said softly, "But she's hurt bad."
Something clenched inside Austin. The sight of Bonnieâs delicate form marred by bruises brought forth an overwhelming tide of protective anger within him. His heart pounded against his ribs. He couldnât lose her again.
He knelt down beside Bonnie, his rough hand gently brushing a stray lock from her face. As his fingers grazed her skin, she stirred slightly; her eyelids fluttering open to reveal hazy, pain-filled eyes that met his gaze.
"Austin," she rasped out weakly, reaching out with a trembling hand towards him.
"Shh..." Austin hushed her gently, "Save your strength."
He stood up abruptly and turned to Bear. "Get the first aid kit and water from my bike," he barked out.
As Bear hurriedly left to fetch the required items, Austin sat down beside Bonnie who was fighting to remain conscious. He gently took her hand in his, reassured by the faint squeeze she returned. Austin's piercing gaze never left Bonnie's face, drinking in the sight of her bruised and battered yet ever resilient figure. The promise of revenge he had silently made to himself was fulfilled yet its sweet taste was replaced with a bitter worry for Bonnie's wellbeing.
A sudden rustle broke him from his reverie as Bear lumbered back into view, balancing a large first aid kit and a water bottle precariously in his burly arms. He dumped the contents next to Austin before stepping back, allowing him space to work.
Austin opened the kit with hurried hands, pulling out bandages, disinfectants, and other necessary medical supplies. His hand was steady despite the turmoil raging inside him. All these years leading a gang taught him how to take care of wounds but never before did he wish this much for a real doctor. He cursed under his breath; the gang's secrecy meant hospitals were off-limits.
With grim determination set on his rugged face, Austin started applying the disinfectant to her wounds. Each time she winced or let out a small whimper of pain, guilt like a dagger pierced his heart, but he continued nonetheless. He cleaned and bandaged her wounds as gently as he could while murmuring comforting words that sounded hollow even to his own ears. She had slipped into unconsciousness once again but he hoped somehow she could hear him from the depths of her darkness.
When finally he was done, he found himself unable to let go of her hand, his thumb tracing absent patterns on her smooth skin. Her breathing seemed steadier now, but she was still pale against the moonlight.
Stay tuned for part 14!! Click HERE to view!
Taglist: @droopycoquette@buckysteveloki-me
#fanfic#fanfiction#fan fiction#fan fic#austin butler#austin butler fic#austin butler fandom#austin butler elvis#austin butler fanfiction#austin butler fluff#austinbutleredit#benny cross#benny the bikeriders#austin butler imagine#austin butler edits#austin butler the bikeriders#austin butler benny#austin butler bikeriders#austin butler major gale buck cleven#austin butler angst#austin butler smut#austin butler icons
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I love love love your bakugou x artist reader trope please we need more of it itâs so wholesome i have read it on repeat since you upload it đđđ
Aahh thank you so much!! Kinda grew attached to it myself so Iâm glad to hear yâall love it sm<33 This is definitely a series I plan on continuingđ€đœ this part is kinda more goofy than anything else but I promise thereâs fluff near the end<33
âFuck around and find outâ
he loses his drumsticks
missing rug
using an art supply as a weapon?
nonverbal apology
canât admit heâs wrong for SHIT
Clay is never easy to work with and youâd be foolish to think it is. Itâs messy, dries relatively quickly and dirties up every surface it graces. You swear your sculpting professor is out to get you with these ridiculous projects. From cardboard cutouts to detailed portraits to clay. Itâs a madhouse in the art department.
Using your modeling tool, you try to carve into the block of raku clay that cost an arm and a leg to buy from the universityâs private art supply store. It was a blessing and a curse to have it so conveniently placed right across the hall from your sculpting class. The clay and tool alone cost you $27 that youâll never see again. This degree better be worth it. You look at your desk partner and see that sheâs going to town on her clay block. She cuts, carves and scoops at it like sheâs done it a thousand times over. Clay sculpting is a completely different wheelhouse youâre not used to but youâre always willing to learn. Hopefully fast.
You quickly check your phone, residual dried clay sprinkling onto the screen as you click on it. 7:50 PM. Itâs time to wrap it up for the day. Almost in sync, your professor calls time and you all begin to clean up. You clean off your work station diligently and swing your bag over your shoulder, wishing everyone a good night as you leave. The walk to your car is peaceful. The night is quiet and the air is cool and clear. Truth be told, you were opposed to taking a night class at the start, probably afraid youâd get jumped at night or something irrational like that. But now itâs what you look forward to during the week. Being left alone with your own thoughts and decompressing from the day in the evening is just so therapeutic. Finally making it to your car, you get in, closing and locking the door after. Now that your hands are free from dried clay, you go through your missed messages for the evening. As soon as you turn off do not disturb your screen is flooded with missed calls and text notifications. Your eyes widen and confusion floods your mind as you scroll to the very first message.
#1 Haterđ: yo, lost my drumsticks. you seen em?
delivered 6:15 PM
#1 Haterđ missed call
#1 Haterđ: yeah you totally took em u little shit
delivered 6:30 PM
#1 Haterđ missed call (2)
#1 Haterđ missed call (4)
#1 Haterđ: ik damn well youâre not ignoring me rn
#1 Haterđ: iâll go in your room rn and throw out that shitty rug. keep playin
delivered 7:05 PM
You laugh at his empty threat of a message and roll your eyes. What he had against your rug, you didnât know. Buying a rep was cheaper than the real thing. KAWS is not a brand thatâs in your tax bracket. And of course you didnât know where his drumsticks were. He usually keeps all his music equipment locked away somewhere so itâs most likely his fault for losing them. Youâre about to turn off your phone when a ping sounds from your device, a new message shining brightly on your screen.
#1 Haterđ: forgot you were at your night class. probably got me on dnd anyways
#1 Haterđ: still gonna give you hell for stealing my shit tho
delivered 8:03 PM
You type back a quick reply.
You: donât have ur sticks. touch my rug and u die. Iâll be back in 5 to kick ur ass for blaming me
You shut your phone off and start your car, pulling out of the parking lot and driving back to the dorms.
Once youâre back you walk through the living room and make a beeline to your room. You open your door and what you see inside is enough to fuel nightmares. A rather deranged looking Bakugou has his hip leaned up against your windowsill, arms crossed over his chest as a single lamppost from outside your window illuminates one side of his face. He looks at you. Stares even and doesnât say a single word.
âIs there a reason youâre just sitting in the dark like a weird-ass Disney villain or?â You flick on the light switch next to the door, drenching your room with light. Itâs only then that you notice your floor is rather bare. This motherfucker.
He must have seen your reaction judging by the way his eyes follow your gaze to your now exposed wood flooring. A shit eating grin spreads across his face, damn near splitting it in two. You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Youâd hate to beat his ass over something so trivial but itâs getting harder to restrain yourself. You force yourself to look him in the eyes as you speak very very carefully.
âKats⊠you wouldnât happen to know where my rug is would you?â
He straightens up and walks towards you, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his sweats, a cocky bounce in his stride.
âDunno. My shitâs missing too. Must be a ghost or somethinâ.â Not a lick of remorse escapes his mouth. Heâs smug. Heâs proud of himself and he even came back to the scene of the crime just to taunt you. Your left eye twitches, patience wearing thin.
âIâll ask you one more time for the sake of being generous. Where. Is my. Rug.â He shrugs and feigns innocence.
âFuck around and find out.â
The hell did he just say? Is he really trying to pick a fight right now? Usually youâre the one keeping the peace but this man has now dragged your innocent rug into his thick headed nonsense. You chuckle in disbelief and look at the ground, shaking your head slightly.
ââFuck around and find out?â Huh⊠aight then.â Bag still slung over your shoulder, you unzip the smallest pocket and pull out the modeling tool you used earlier for your sculpting class. You grip it tightly in your palm, the pointed edge facing outwards. Bakugouâs cocky façade waivers a bit but he doesnât show it. His left eyebrow quirks up in interest.
âTryna stab me with an art supply?â Youâre not really gonna stab him. Just scare him into giving you your stuff back. MaybeâŠ
âYou said fuck around and find out right? So imma fuck you up til I find out where my shit is.â You drop your bag on the ground and rush at him all at once. His once calm demeanor switches to sudden shock and he moves to dodge your swing.
âDude what the fuck!? Will you chill?â He doesnât know whether heâs shouting in annoyance or fear, though heâll never admit the latter. You turn around to where heâs standing behind you, modeling tool still tightly clutched in hand.
âGive me my shit back then!â
âCmon itâs a shitty knock off. You really gonna stab me over a $30 rug?â
âAnd you really stole a $30 rug over a $15 pair of drumsticks?â
âCuz you stole em!â
âI didnât steal anything. I donât even know where you keep them Kats! Plus I havenât been in the dorms since 8 this morning.â His face stills and his brain sorts through what youâd just said. It made sense really. Today was your long day this week. Youâd been gone from 8 AM to 8 PM.
He straightens up from his defensive stance and looks away, rubbing the back of his nape. âOkay well even if you didnât take em, still donât know where they are. Everyoneâs a suspect right now.â
âThen why arenât everyone elseâs things missing?â
He shakes his head and corrects you. âNah, I took a piece of everyoneâs shit too not just you. Itâs all stashed til someone fesses up.â You stare at him like heâs grown two heads, face turned up in disapproval and disbelief.
âAight Kats whatever. You know itâs not me, so can I please have my rug back?â At this point you where drained from classes and just wanted to rest. Not to mention using the last of your energy to attack this idiot.
He walks to your door and opens it, the creak of the door signaling his great escape. âAsk me nicely.â Heâs closing the door behind himself now, but youâre quick to yell out.
âDude are you seriou-â
âUnder the bed.â With that, he closes the door and youâre left in silence. You kneel on the ground and look under your bed and just as he said, your rug is there safe and sound. You pull it out from its hiding spot and place it back in its respective spot on the floor. You let out a deep sigh of relief which can be heard by the eavesdropping figure just outside your door. He chuckles to himself and walks to his room. Truth be told he found his drumsticks minutes before you came back to the dorms. He was just too embarrassed to tell you he found them after misplacing them himself and blaming you for it. Plus, it was more fun this way. Minus the potential stabbing part.
#bakugou headcanons#bakugou katsuki#mha headcanons#mha drabbles#mha x reader#bakugou x reader#mha bakugou#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou x you#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou fic
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Itâs Not That Funny
Based on this post :https://at.tumblr.com/dialouge-prompts/thats-not-funny-i-think-its-hilarious/0e0jguqo6c07
Rhea Ripley x Reader. Â Â Â Â Becky Lynch x Platonic!Reader
Rhea sat behind you, to where you could only see her through the mirror placed in front of you. You were sitting in hair and makeup getting ready for your match against Bianca tonight. You had just finished telling Rhea and your hairstylist a story that you thought was pretty traumatic from when you were younger. All the Aussie could do was laugh hysterically, falling sideways onto the couch with tears rolling down her face. At least Laney your hairstylist could keep somewhat of a straight face.
âThatâs not funny Rhea. Iâm pretty sure it caused me so brain issues. Like youâre laughing at your girlfriend who could have brain issues and not even know it.â
Once Rhea calmed down slightly she was able to get out a sentence before she started dying of laughter once again. âYouâre right thatâs not funny, I think itâs hilarious.â Even this time Laney couldnât keep her composure. Soon 3 of your other friends walk into the room to get their hair and makeup down. Asuka taking a seat next to a hysteric Ripley, Bianca on the couch on the opposite wall, and your best friend since the day you started your professional career in wrestling, Becky Lynch sat right next to you.
Becky spun her chair around to face the still laughing so called ânightmareâ. âAye, what happend to the big scary one back there?â
Rolling your eyes at the fact that youâre going to probably end up retelling the story you just told your girlfriend. You sighed in defeat. âI told her a story of something that happened to me when I was a child. And yes before you ask me to tell it I already knew you were gonna do that so Iâm just gonna get it over with.â
You looked around and everyone was attentive towards you, rhea even managed to stop laughing for a short period of time, just enough to hear you retell this story that caused her tears in the first place.
âSo, when I was about 5 or 6, my mom and I had lived with my grandma and 2 younger aunts in this really big house. We had this amazing black fluffy Newfoundland named Charlie, and he was like my favorite pet in the world. So one day I was walking out of my room to go downstairs to find my grandma, well I had just seen Charlie walk down the stairs, and well you know how they walk down stairs. So me being the curious little child I was decided to try and walk down this flight of stairs like a dog.â You could hear snorts coming from all the women in the room as they could only picture what would happen next. âSo this flight of stairs had at least 30 stairs, and I had only made it down like 7 of the 30 stairs safely. I ended up tripping on the rug we had on the stairs and proceeded to tumble down the rest of them.â
Rhea was once again in tears along with Asuka and Bianca, Becky just laughing at you, expecting nothing less from a younger you. âSo by the time I stopped I landed on my head on this really hard ground at the bottom of the steps, and you want to know what the dog does? Mind you he literally sat and watched me fall down these stairs, he came over to me sniffed around me then proceeded to sit one me. This 100 pound dog came and sat on me and I weighed at most 45 pounds. Some being me I started yelling for my grandma who at the time couldnât hear me because she was outside mowing the lawn. So moral of the story her girls,I could have major brain damage, and here you all are laughing at me.â Pouting and crossing your arms as everyone in the room are in hysterics with Bianca somehow managing to end up on the floor and rhea thrashing around wildly. Becky leans over and rubs your arm.
âOh donât pout sweetie, we would still love you the same. And I know for a fact that Rhea over there loves the one with mental issues.â
#rhea ripley#rhea ripley imagines#rhea ripley x reader#women of wwe#wweuniverse#bianca belair#becky Lynch#asuka#monday night raw#simpforstrongwomen
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Planet Honey Pop!
(CC List + Links)
[NOTE: The light switch to the Ravasheen Hidden Lights is on the bubble tea kiosk half wall on the ground level.]
World Map:Â San Myshuno
Area: Fashion District
Lot Size:Â 30 x 20
Amenities:
Arcade
Gaming/Internet Café
âMangaâ Reading Area
Retail
Rooftop Bar
Thrift & Bubble Tea Store
Gallery ID:Â Simstorian-ish
Packs Needed
Expansion Packs
Cats & Dogs
City Living
Discover University
Eco Lifestyle
Get Famous
Get Together
Get To Work
Growing Together
High School Years
Lovestruck
Snowy Escape
Game Packs
Dine Out
Dream Home Decorator
Spa Day
Star Wars: Journey to Batuu
Strangerville
Stuff Packs
Moschino Stuff
Kits
Desert Luxe
Recommended Gameplay Mods
(Please read through what each mod has to offer before deciding if it fits your gameplay style or not.)
Arcade Lot Trait
City Vibes Lot Trait Collection
Functional Arcade
Lock/Unlock Doors for Any Lot
MC Command Center
Spawn Refresh
Build Mode
Hamsterbelle
Mini Space Hamster Set (Railings, Stairway)
Felixandre
Paris Pt 1 (Awning Open Long & Short)
Harlix
Harluxe (Laminated Wall)
Tiny Twavellers (Mural Wallpaper)
Harrie
Klean Pt. 2
Klean Pt. 3
LittleDica
Rise & Grind (Fence 2, Wallpaper 1)
MoonSimmers
Bonaerense Set (Mosaic Floor Small, Trim Granitic Mosaic Floor)
Nempne
Cover Sheet Ceiling Tile
Pierisim
Tilable (Plaster)
Syboubou
Classic Elevator (This is NEEDED)
The Royal Geek
Vintage Life Flooring
Buy Mode
AroundTheSims4
Museum Exhibition Shop (Bag, Bag Wall Display, Poster Rolls Display)
Cepzid
Arcade Room Pack (Only the Games)
Felixandre
SOHO Pt. 1 (Mirror Slim, Round Sink, Toilet & Remote)
SOHO Pt. 4 (Lounge Seating, Lounge Table, Planter, Shelving & Poles- ALL, Stool)
SOHO Pt. 5 (Duffle Bag, Kelly Bag)
SOHO Pt. 6 (Jute Rug 4 x 3, Postcards)
Hamsterbelle
Cyberpunk Neon Lights (SpunkyMoney, Tengu)
Floor Light DĂ©cor
Hanraja
S015 (Desk Chair 3 LOW)
S019 (Desk, Desktops)
Harlix
Kichen (Glasses)
Kichen 2.0 (Glasses)
Livinâ Rum (3D Wall Art, Coffee Table, End Table, Shelves)
Ledger Atelier
Bar Counter (DL Attached Bellow)
LittleDica
H&B Store (Aisle Sign Lit, Lit Letters â ALL, Stage Light 8)
LustrousSims
Simlish Bookstore
NANDO
Fashion Store
No Style x Woodland
Cöfkeksa Lounge Chair
Tamsusja Booth Corner
Peacemaker
Kassova Sectional
Pierisim
Stefan Living Room (Curtains & Rod - TALL)
Unfold (Dining Table, End Table)
Ravasheen
Easy Peasy Lumen Squeezy Hidden Lights
Shake & Shimmy Dance Floor
RusticSims
IRL (Dining Chair, Taburete)
Sundays
Kediri Pt. 1 (Throw Pillow- Solids)
Sumba Pt. 2 (Wardrobe Dresser II- Small)
TaurusDesign
Lilith Chillinâ Areas Pt. 1 (Drinks - ALL)
Tuds
Beam Kitchen (Table Bar 1x2)
DO NOT REUPLOAD MY LOTS.
DO NOT CLAIM THEM AS YOUR OWN.
DO NOT PLACE BEHIND A PAYWALL.
Tray Files: DOWNLOAD
#simstorian#the sims 4#sims 4#ts4#cc#ts4 simblr#sims 4 build#sims 4 building#san myshuno#showusyourbuilds#showusyourdecor#sims 4 commercial lot#30x20
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As the Sun Will Rise - Epilogue
Pairing: Grunauer (Overlord) x OFC, Beauty & the Beast retelling
Summary: After losing most of his unit in a disastrous D-Day mission, Derwin Grunauer returns to his hometown near Miami, body riddled with scars and heart heavy with guilt, only to find his neighbors shunning him due to his German name. He retreats into his family mansion and remains there, unwilling to rejoin the living, until the day Alba Reyes turns up at his door with a basket full of warm bread. As the daughter of a Cuban immigrant, Alba knows something of being an outsider, and when she offers to work for Derwin as his housekeeper, it is not only to pay off her father's debt to the Grunauers, but also because she feels some connection to the reclusive young man. When that connection develops into something more, they must overcome both the town's prejudice and their own doubts to find happiness.
Chapter warnings: none
Chapter word count: 1.5k
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 - Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Chapter 18 - Chapter 19 - Chapter 20
Epilogue
1968
"Dad, can we go now?" Mattie whined from her perch on the sofa's armrest. They were in the living room. Mattie had been playing on the rug with their dog Sultan, but she soon got tired of it and went to bother her father instead.
"We're waiting for Mom," Derwin said.
"But she's been on the phone for hours," Mattie said, drawing out the last syllable with all the impatience and frustration of a ten-year-old. "Grandpa and Aunt Bea and Uncle Frank are gonna think we've gotten into some horrible accident." She jumped down from the chair. "Maybe she's forgotten. Let me go get her."
Derwin looked up from his book and regarded his daughter. She had, like all three of their children, inherited their mother's dark hair and his brown eyes, though there was a trace of green in Mattie's eyes that reminded him of Alba's. "Mathilda," he said sternly. "Don't disturb your mom. You know how important this is to her."
Mattie slumped back in her chair. "OK," she said reluctantly, but with sincerity. They all knew how important this project was to Alba. Her whole life's work had led up to this.
Twenty years ago, when he asked her to marry him, Derwin had told Alba that he didn't want her to have to choose between having a career and having a family, and he had kept his word. After getting married in late 1948, they had both enrolled in the University of Miami, she to study biology and he to finish his degree in literature. It had taken them a long time, between studying, working, and raising three children, but eventually they'd graduated and found jobs in their respective fields.
Alba's job as a wetland specialist had taken her all over the country. And while she tried to save every piece of wetland from the salt marshes of the West Coast to the freshwater bogs of the East, from the largest swamps of the South to the smallest mudflats of the North, Derwin had been happy to stay home with the children. He knew it raised some eyebrows, but he had learned, a long time ago, not to care what people thought of him. Alba had taught him that. Besides, staying home had allowed him to focus on his teaching at the University and his poetry, as the four collections of poems he'd publishedâthe one he wrote for Alba, published while he was still in school, and three more after thatâcould attest.
Anyone who doubted how they managed to raise a family with two working parents only had to look at their children, all well-behaved and ambitious in their own way. Raf, their eldest, a senior in high school, had gotten an internship at Cape Canaveral for the summer. Will had taken after his namesake, Grandfather Wilhelm, and was already eyeing the zoology program at the University. It was true that Mattie, as the youngest, was spoiled rotten by her father as well as her older brothers, but as she was the one who showed a penchant for poetry and literature, Derwin thought some indulgence on his part was allowed.
It was true that they also got a lot of help from Alba's family and friends. Beatriz and Frank had two girls of their own, and together with Claudia and Marty, they had always been eager to lend a hand whenever Alba and Derwin needed. Mauricio had kept his promise. Once he'd agreed to modernize the bakery, it had quickly turned a profit, allowing him to pay off the debt within a year, and by the time Beatriz and Frank were married, Mauricio had been able to purchase the building from Derwin. Throughout the years, the neighborhood had changed, people and shops moved away, but La Perla del la Sur remained a staple of Cypress Grove. Even though Beatriz and Frank had realized Mauricio's dream of opening a bigger branch in South Beach, the old man still lived there and ran the original bakery.
In fact, it was Beatriz and Frank who suggested that they hosted a dinner to celebrate Derwin and Alba's 20th wedding anniversary at the old bakery, because Alba had been so wrapped up in her latest project to think much about anything. After twenty years, the thing she feared the most had finally happenedâan airport was being built right next door to them, just a few miles north of the Everglades. For months, Alba and her colleagues had heard about the plan for a supersonic jetport near the area and had tried to fight it in vain. When construction began, Alba had broken down in Derwin's arms and cried as he'd never seen her cry before. It had torn his heart apart, not being able to do or say anything to help her. But Alba, resilient as ever, had rallied again.
"Who knows Gastin Grant could actually predict the future, right?" she'd said, smiling through her tears. "He must be patting himself on the back right now."
"He won't," Derwin had told her. "You won't let him win. You didn't let him win before, and you won't now. I know you can do it."
She had given him a grateful smile and gotten to work, putting together a campaign to halt construction. Now Alba was waiting for news from the Department of Interior to see if their efforts had paid off or not.
The door to the study opened. Mattie and Derwin both looked up, and Derwin saw his own feelings reflected on his daughter's face, which was brightening as if by magic as Alba stepped into the living room. Sultan, who had inherited his love for Alba from his grandfather Otto, also ran over to greet her.
"Mom!" Mattie exclaimed, launching herself into Alba's arms. Although Mattie was too big now, Alba still picked her up like she was a baby. "You're making us late," Mattie said reproachfully.
"I'm sorry, cariña," Alba said. She staggered a little under Mattie's weight and laughed. "I'm ready now."
"Great! I'll go get Raf and Will." Mattie wriggled down and ran off, taking Sultan with her.
Derwin took Alba's laugh to be a good sign. She still looked worn and tired, with dark circles under her eyes, but she seemed more hopeful than she had in weeks. "Well?" he asked.
"We got the go-ahead to form a committee," she said. "Headed by Dr. Leopold. To research potential impacts of the jetport on the environment."
Derwin squeezed her hand with a triumphant smile. "See? I told you, you can do it."
"I'm not banking on that just yet. They may disregard our report altogether. And this should have been done long before construction even began. It may already be too late..."
"No, don't talk like that." Derwin took Alba's hand, drew her down on his lap, and ran his lips over her hair. "We can't all afford to go live in the woods like Henry David Thoreau, remember? You want to be practical. And this is a practical step."
Alba put her head on his shoulder. "You're right," she said, smiling tiredly. "You always are." She sat up. "I think we should get going, before Papi put out a search warrant."
"Hang on a minute." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thin box. Alba had given him his present earlier that day, a tiepin set with an emerald that reminded him of her eyes, so now it was his turn. "Happy anniversary, Herzchen."
With an excited smile, she opened the box to reveal a delicate gold necklace with a pendant shaped like a frangipani flower. "Oh, cariño," she breathed out. "It's gorgeous."
She lifted her hair so he could put the necklace on for her. He happily obliged, letting his hand linger on her neck for a moment, before leaning down to kiss her shoulder and the nape of her neck. Twenty years and three kids, and for all the gray hairs and the wrinkles, and to him, she was still as beautiful as the day they met.
Alba fingered the pendant for a moment and twisted around to kiss him back. "Where are the kids?" she asked, when they finally broke apart.
"Getting our present, no doubt."
"They got us a present?"
"It's supposed to be a secret. They don't know I knew. So remember to act surprised, OK?" He grinned conspiratorially, and she grinned back.
"What is it?"
"A weekend trip to the Everglades, all expenses paid."
Alba looked dismayed. "But I'm going there next week with the committee anyway!"
"I know, but this is to relax, not to work. And who knows, if you see it from a tourist's point of view, maybe you'll find new ways to protect it too. Promise you'll act surprised?"
A teasing smile crept over Alba's lips. "If you promise to be careful on the boat this time."
"Hey, it wasn't my fault! You were putting your hands on meâ"
"I seem to remember that you had your hands on me as well. Like thisâ"
"Shh. The kids are coming."
"Oh, they won't hear anything..."
And laughing, they left the room together, hand in hand.
THE END
The construction of the Everglades Jetport began in 1968, and after the environmental report was submitted, the project was abandoned in 1970. You can read more about it here. I came across it when I was doing research for this fic, and while I already wove it into with Grant's scheme, I thought it would be fun to feature the real-life case as well and use it as an excuse to show how Alba and Derwin's life turned out.
And yes, Sultan is the name of the little footstool/dog in "Beauty and the Beast".
Thank you for following along with this story. I never thought a character with 2 minutes of screen time and a handful of lines would result in what is my longest fic to date, and I hope you've had as much fun reading it as I had writing it!
Taglist: @kitkat80, @hahahafucku
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