#I could tell her now that I don’t want to seek it out and she’d respect that

[herawell]

.

[wanders-in-wonderland]

Obsession

She’s so effortlessly gorgeous. She’s everything I could ever want and more. The way her hair falls, the way her body moves, the way she smells, the way she laughs and crinkles her nose, it’s all fucking perfect. She’s perfect.

She has no idea who I am but I know everything about her. Between the trackers I’ve installed on her car and phone, the cameras and microphones strategically placed throughout her apartment, and access to every online account she has, I know all there is to know about my girl. I know exactly what time she wakes up in the morning (6:15am), the way she likes her coffee (with honey instead of sugar), the workout class she likes to take in the mornings (hot yoga), the route to work she likes to take (along the river because she likes seeing the boats on the water), and everything she likes to do beyond that. There’s nothing about her that I don’t know, and that just goes to show how perfect I am for her.

She doesn’t know that yet but she will. She’ll learn how perfect we are for each other and she’ll accept that she is mine.

It’s Friday night and my girl is exactly where I expect her to be. At home, curled up with a book and a cup of tea to unwind from a long week of work. Soon, her Friday nights will involve curling up with me while she reads and I can make her tea just the way she likes and rub her feet while she unwinds. I would do that for her every night because I intend to keep my girl forever.

I’m parked a block away from her apartment, monitoring her through the cameras streaming a live feed onto my laptop. While she was at work today, I slipped into her apartment and added a little something extra to her tea. Something to ensure that she’d fall asleep earlier than usual and stay asleep until I could get her situated.

I watch her yawn and stretch, seeing the drug start to work its magic on her already. It doesn’t take long for her to call it a night and settle into bed, her eyes drifting closed as soon as her head hits the pillow. I smile as I get out of my car to collect what’s mine.

A sense of exhilarating excitement fills me as I use my copy of her key to unlock her door and slip into her home. Of course I take my shoes off, I know my girl prefers a shoes-off home, and I pad across her hardwood floors to her bedroom. I smile when I see her there, curled up on her side, wearing those cute pajamas. I leave her there for now, opting to first pack a bag for her, grabbing a few sets of clothes and making sure to fill her toiletry bag up with her favorite skincare products.

I sling the packed bag over my shoulder and head to the bed to scoop up my sleeping beauty. It’s easy work to carry her out the door and to my car. I slide her into the passenger seat and buckle her in. She’s so cute like this, sleeping and unconscious to the world around her. I drop a kiss to her forehead and smile as I shut the door. It’s a quick drive to my place and within the hour, I have her tucked into my bed, her clothes unpacked into my closet (of course I’ve already made space for her stuff), and her skincare lining her sink (of course I have his-and-hers sinks for us).

I slide into bed next to her and wrap myself around her, pulling her in close and breathing in her scent. Fuck, she smells so good and she’s so soft in my arms. She fits perfectly, just like I knew she would. I have a few hours before the drugs run through her system so I set an alarm and close my eyes, letting myself drift off to sleep holding my girl, the first night of forever.

I wake up to the sound of my alarm and look down at my girl in my arms. We’d shifted at some point in our sleep, me on my back and her sprawled over me, her leg thrown over my hip. It makes me smile, it’s like her body already knows to seek out mine even though her mind is absent.

I pull her closer and drop another kiss to her forehead before I stretch and slide out from underneath her grasp. A glance at the time tells me I have less than an hour before she’ll wake up, which means now it’s time for some final preparations.

I pull the blanket off the bed, leaving her exposed in her pajamas. They get taken off next, my touch gentle as I strip her bare, revealing every part of her perfect body to me. I groan low in my throat as I see her soft skin revealed. I watch a small shiver run up her body and the sight of it makes me frown. I don’t want my girl getting cold so I go adjust the thermostat, bumping the temperature up a few degrees.

I walk back to the bed, drinking in the image of her splayed naked in my bed. My cock is already rock hard but I don’t pay it any attention because she’s got all of it. I wish I could leave her like this, I wish she’d wake up and smile at me but I know my girl well enough to know that her first reaction to being kidnapped is not going to be a good one. But that’s okay, I prepared for that and I know it won’t take long to convince her that she would be happy with me. For now, it means using the soft leather cuffs I’ve already attached to bed frame. I don’t want my girl getting any ideas about escaping and hurting herself.

I gently click her wrists and ankles into the cuffs, making sure they���re tight enough to keep her still but not too tight to leave any bruising or pain. I smile and brush her hair off her face, she looks so fucking perfect like this. I can’t believe I get to have her.

I grab a small ball gag and slide the rubber in between her full lips before buckling the straps behind her head, taking care not to catch her hair. I almost didn’t want to gag her but I don’t want her screaming and hurting her vocal chords.

I settle in to wait out the last few minutes of the drug in her system but it’s impossible to keep my hands off her. I run a soft touch up and down her body, giving her pretty nipples each a soft pinch before sliding against her core, gently stroking up and down. She’s so perfect, I can feel her responding to my touch already.

A smile breaks across my face when I see her face twitch and her nose scrunch in the tell-tale sign of her waking up. I see her eyelids flutter and I watch as a little crease forms between her eyebrows as her sleepy confusion hits her. Her eyes fly open and I watch as fear overtakes her mind.

“Shush, darling, it’s okay. I’ve got you, it’s okay, don’t panic,” I murmur as I drop soft kisses along her hairline. Her fear is palpable in the air between us and it makes me sad but I know I’ll make it all better soon. She makes muffled protests behind the gag, thrashing against the cuffs holding her down.

“Shush, no don’t struggle, darling. I don’t want you hurting yourself. Please, just calm down and I’ll explain everything, I promise,” I keep my voice soft and soothing as I meet her wild eyes. I run my fingers gently through her hair to calm her.

It takes a little bit more time before she comes to terms of her confinement and gives up the struggling. I smile down at her when I see that she’s finally stopped moving, “See now, it’s okay, everything is perfectly fine.”

She glares at me and I hear a muffled curse from behind the gag. It makes me laugh lightly, my girl is so feisty. “Don’t struggle, darling. I’m here for you, I’m here to take care of you and you’ll never have to worry about anything other than being my good girl from now on.” I trail my fingers down her face and leave my hand resting against her throat, feeling her pulse fluttering beneath my palm.

I can see the anger and fear on her face but I know it won’t stick around for long. Not once she understands how perfect I am for her and how good I can make her feel. I press a loving kiss against her cheek, ignoring the way she renews her struggles at that.

“This is your new home now, darling. I have everything you could ever need here and I’ll buy you whatever you want, whenever you want. I brought all your favorite things here when I picked you up from your apartment today, and don’t worry, if I missed anything, I can go back and grab it before we terminate your lease.”

My words seem to add fuel to her fear and I see tears start to gather in her pretty eyes. “Oh, darling, don’t cry. It’s going to be okay, I know you really liked that apartment with the nice bay windows and high ceilings but I promise you’ll like our new home just as much.”

She shakes her head and I smile sweetly at her. “Yeah, that’s right, I know every single thing about you. I’ve been watching you, learning everything there is to learn so that I can fulfill your every need.”

I press another kiss against her cheek and trace the shape of her face with my tongue gently before stopping right against her ear where I whisper, “And I know exactly how you like to touch your pretty little pussy at night when you’re all alone and desperate to cum. I promise, I can do it better.”

I feel her body shudder against me and she lets out the most delicious little whine. I know that turned her on, made her pussy clench and her clit throb. “Don’t be shy, darling, you don’t have you hide your dirty little fantasies from me. I know you, I know exactly what you like to think about while you rub that pretty little clit. You want this, you want a man to take you and kidnap you and claim you.”

My free hand trails up and down her body, playing with her sensitive nipples. “Fuck, darling, you feel so fucking good in my hands. Like you were made for me, made to be mine.”

I give one of her nipples a particularly harsh pinch and her body arches against mine, a sweet muffled whimper breaking out from underneath the gag. I laugh before attaching my mouth to the soft column of her neck. I take my time leaving little kisses and sucking a love bite, feeling my girl’s pulse jump every time I scrape my teeth against her sensitive little throat.

“You’re being so good now, darling. Looks like all you needed was the promise of a good fuck, hm? And I promise you’ll have that for the rest of our lives.” I press open-mouthed kisses down her body and finally end up between her legs.

She looks so fucking good, all spread out for me and helpless. “Fuck, darling, that pretty little pussy’s all wet and ready for me. Your body knows who it belongs to,” my voice takes on a rougher edge as the excitement of what’s to come makes my patience start to wane.

I settle in between her legs and press my lips against her pretty pussy. I let out a low moan against her, “You taste so good, darling. All for me.”

I feel her hips jerk underneath me and I glance up at her. She looks like a goddess, her pupils blown out wide, face tinged pink, and a soft, dazed look of pleasure written across her face. I shift my focus back to her dripping pussy and dive in.

Soft licks against her clit before I run my tongue from top to bottom, my hands gripping her thighs to keep her still and open for me. I press my tongue deep into her pussy, her taste overwhelming my senses and making my cock impossibly harder. I lose myself in her, every cell of my body wanting, needing to make her feel good.

I hear her soft whimpers and moans leaking out from behind the gag and it’s all a testament to how good I’m making her feel. Her pussy is clenching rhythmically as I keep up the unrelenting attention on her sensitive little clit and I know she’s close. I slide a finger into her, crooking it in a way that I know she’ll like and pull my mouth off for a second to look at her.

“You look like an angel, so fucking perfect for me. I promise, I’m going to make you feel this good all the time. I’ll do anything for you, darling, and I’m never fucking letting you go.” Her pleasure-drunk eyes meet mine and I watch her give into me. I watch as the last bits of her resistance fade away and she gives herself to me. She’s mine.

I bury my face back into her pussy and suck hard on her clit while driving my fingers deep inside of her. Her back arches even more and I hear her muffled scream as she explodes for me. I don’t stop, maintaining the same tempo with my fingers and mouth, working her through her orgasm. I hear the whimpers and whines spilling out of her but it’s not enough to make me stop. I want to make her feel even better.

I look up and see tears gathered in the corners of her eyes as she begs me to give her a break with her gaze. I shoot her a smile before licking my lips, “Don’t fret, darling, I promised to make you feel good and I intend to keep that promise.” My fingers rub softly against her clit as I bring my mouth back to between her legs.

A lick along her slit draws another high, desperate whine from her. “Aw, darling, I know, it feels so good it’s overwhelming isn’t it? It’s okay, I’ve got you.”

I bury my face into her pussy and suck hard on her clit before sliding two fingers into her dripping cunt. I can feel her body straining underneath me but I’m too focused to give her any relief. A few more lashes of my tongue and she’s falling apart for a second time.

This time she starts to beg behind the gag. It makes me smile but does nothing to stop what I’m doing. Her desperate cries and pleas sound so pretty falling out of her mouth but there’s no force in the world that could stop me from getting what I want out of her.

“You sound so desperate begging like that, darling. Don’t cry, just enjoy how good I can make you feel. There’s no one else who could treat you this well.” My fingers are covered in her wetness, each thrust inside of her making a deliciously lewd symphony.

I meet her eyes and see how far gone she is. Her desperation and want is so clearly written on her face. I see a crease form between her eyebrows and I know she’s close to cumming again.

I lean down, capturing her sensitive little clit in my mouth and I hear her cries get louder as the sensation overwhelms her. I can tell this orgasm is going to be so much bigger than her last two by the way she’s writhing and her pussy is shuddering around my fingers. A muffled sob is the only warning I get before she shatters into her release, squirting as she does. Her pretty pussy clamps down around my fingers and I groan into her, the taste of her sweet cum on my tongue.

“Fuck, look at you, squirting so well for me. Such a perfect little girl, I know that’s your first time squirting. I bet you didn’t think you could but you just needed me to coax it out of you, isn’t that right, darling?”

Her cries have died down to soft little whimpers as I finish licking up everything she has to offer and finally pull away.

I crawl up her body and settle myself next to her, seeing her wrecked body splayed out for me and tears leaking out of her eyes. “So fucking good for me, darling. You did so well, didn’t that feel so good?”

She gives a small, shy nod and meets my eyes. I smile at my pretty girl, “I love you, darling, and you belong to me. I will never let you go.” I pull the gag out of her mouth and before she can speak, press my lips against hers, sealing my promise with a kiss.

There’s so much more of her I intend to claim tonight.

Note: I’m kinda loving writing from a man’s perspective because then I can make him do all the things I want 😂 but hope y’all enjoyed this!

[inc0gnitoo]

Hey love, I would like to request a Jinx x F!Reader. Imagine that the reader moves with Jinx to another city for a better start and they get married and have twins through in vitro fertilization. Now with two kids, they haven't had many intimate moments. Could you write a scenario where they get some alone time with lots of smut and fluff too, please? Top Jinx ok?

There isn't much of that around here and I would love to read stuff like that. Thanks 🫰🏻

OMGGGG this is adorable i could totally see jinx wanting to escape piltover and zaun, new life but still just as crazy! so cute- 🤞🤞i had a lot of fun writing this. i hope you enjoy!

CW- female terms for reader, smut but w a little plot, top jinx of course, lesbianism, jinx is still crazy, just less so, voice kink??

NSFW BELOW THE CUT

╰── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──╯

the voice of your wife, jinx, was unmistakably beautiful. you had gotten quite accustomed to the sound of her calling you over, whether to help with isha or vanalia, your two daughters, or to check out another painting. and everytime you’d come at her call.

she wasn’t the only one who’d call for you, though. isha, your oldest child, was quite the little inventor. you and jinx always called her ‘lil jinxy’ for how alike she was to her mother. vanalia, quiet and timid, never quite understood the idea of inventing, but she loved to read, and she’d tell you every little story her six year old brain came up with. one of those stories sounding eerily familiar to something jinx had told you once before..

the big city brought many promises for the two of you, and one of those was a nice home to come to, and beautiful daughters that awaited. and lucky for you, your wife jinx was just as imaginative and crazy.

despite loving spending time with your family and the chaos that ensued, the two of you were in a desperate search for a break. after careful consideration, you decided to take a weekend off. of course you loved your daughters, but that voice of jinx’s that you cherished so much was becoming less and less, more filled with exhaustion and the tire of being a parent. you knew she needed time off, and just as much as she did.

so, you treated her to a break.

“ngh, doll, yea, right there—“

with your head buried between her legs, her nimble fingers entangled in the strands of your hair, she praised you, hips rolling into your face as she fucked herself on you, “don’t—act cocky, aah.. i’m going to fuck your face til you can’t breathe.”

and she was 100% right. your fingers pumped in and out, curling into her walls and searching for her release like a puppy begging for a treat, desperately seeking to please your beautifully crazy wife who’s pussy was making you this drunk.

“harder, harder. i’ll cum—“

you wrapped your lips around her clit and eased your fingers up to a ruthless pace, pain in your arm but fuck, who cares?? when she was demanding orgasm from you, you’d give it to her.

and she came, just as she promised, and nearly ripped your hair out at the force she used to pull it. her back arched and that beautiful voice of hers you were addicted to cried out in ecstasy.

why did i mention her calling you over? oh! right!

bringing yourself up from her thighs, your face wet with her slick, you didn’t even get a chance before jinx shot her hand to your throat, tugging you up to her bliss-fucked face, “come here. it’s your turn, sunshine.”

ugh, just her voice alone could send you.

jinx was thrusting her fingers into you at a pace only she could master, fucking up into your tight cunt, lewd noises filling your hotel room, “who’s being so good for me? that’s right! you are, baby.”

she praised you so well, rewarding you with mindblowing orgasms back to back to back, hitting every right angle and splitting your mind into a filthy mess of desire and craving.

“j-jinx! mmg.. don’t stop, f-feels so good—“

“why would i do that silly? your pussy is calling me.”

and, of course, with those moans spilling out of your mouth, you were calling her too.

the more you came the happier jinx was, knowing she was giving her wife the satisfaction she knew she could give, your body was like her own little toy, learning what buttons to press and what kinks to make use of.

and she loved your body, the way your breasts would bounce as she fucked into you with the strap, how you’d shake and grip onto any part of her that could give you support. and how beautiful your eyes looked as they rolled into the back of your pretty little head.

and once she finally gave you a break (which took a few hours that night) she’d stroke your cheek, admiring the beads of sweat that fell down your forehead, every wrinkle and crevice. her finger grazing the skin of your face with such gentleness and fragility that she had to have thought you were glad. with that cheeky grin, she would speak to you with that voice you’d fell in love with.

“my pretty pretty girl, so.. perfect..”

FIN

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

can you see the stars in your dreams (and do they have a lot to say about me) - Part 4

Or: a secret Admirer AU

PART 1 || PART 2 || PART 3

TW: one instance of homophobic language (internally), fear of violence due to homophobia (which doesn't occur).

Chrissy would have never expected Steve Harrington to be full of such soft, gooey feelings, but with every letter she helps him right, he only gets sappier. The latest is so sticky with sap she’s afraid it’ll stick to her fingers.

Part of her, the smallest, niggling part, wishes Steve really was her boyfriend, and all those little niceties could be for her. But, that wouldn’t be fair to Steve, anyway. There’s nothing there; he’s just Steve—the platonic ideal of a best friend.

So, she wears his last name on her back, helps him write his little notes, and hopes ardently that she’ll find someone she cares that much about for herself.

“What are you doing?”

Chrissy’s fingers stumble at the unexpected voice, Steve’s latest letter fluttering to the dirty ground. Someone else beats her to picking it up. She watches, mouth in her throat, as one of Eddie’s friends unfolds the note. He squints down at it, eyebrows raising higher and higher until they’re almost meeting his hairline by the time he reaches the sign-off.

He folds it up carefully before handing it back to her. She clutches it to her chest, but the damage has already been done.

“Aren’t you dating Harrington?” Jeff asks.

Chrissy stumbles over her words, only getting out an, “it’s not like—” and a “I wouldn’t do—” before sputtering into silence.

They stand there, staring at each other for an endless moment, neither speaking, before Chrissy finally spins around, shoves the note into Eddie’s locker, and flees as fast as her tired legs can carry her.

He doesn’t follow.

Practice had run long, and she’d just wanted to leave the note and get home. Now, home is less of a relief and more somewhere that she can stew in the repercussions of what she’s done. Jeff’s Eddie’s friend, he’ll tell him without hesitation, and where will that leave her and Steve?

With that in mind, she goes looking for Jeff bright and early the next day, hoping boys’ propensity for not talking on the phone means that they’ve yet to speak.

“Did you tell him?” she asks when she finds Jeff spinning the dial on what must be his own locker.

Seeming entirely unbothered even as everyone around them stares, Jeff continues unlocking his locker at a leisurely pace. Only once he’s pulled the lock down and swung his locker open does he turn to meet her eyes.

“You mean, did I tell my best friend that Chrissy Cunningham has been writing him love notes?” Jeff asks. Chrissy shifts her eyes around, relieved that no one’s close enough to hear Jeff’s quiet voice.

Chrissy nods, something weighty sinking into her stomach the longer he goes without responding.

He turns back to his locker with a huff to dig around on the top shelf. “No,” he says, but before the relief can hit her, he continues, “I don’t want you to hurt him, and I think you will.”

“It’s not—I don’t—“ she stumbles in an embarrassing reenactment of last night. When he turns back to her with that same judgmental look, she shores herself up, clears her throat, and finally eeks out a full sentence. “I wouldn’t do that.”

Jeff’s expression doesn’t change as he asks, “so, what? You’re going to leave Harrington for him?”

Her silence must speak volumes because he slams his locker shut, and turns to walk away, calling, “that’s what I thought” over his shoulder.

She stands, transfixed, as he walks away.

His dismissal niggles at her, until she finds herself seeking him out again before the end of the day. He’s walking out of the bathroom, still shaking his hands dry as she rushes up to him, matching his stride down the hallway step for step.

“I’m not dating Steve,” she says.

It’s the first time she’s said it aloud, none of her friends close enough to confide in. But, here she is, telling the best friend of one half of the reason her and Steve are even doing this, entirely unprompted.

Jeff looks at her sidelong. “Did you tell the rest of the school that?”

Chrissy sweeps her ponytail over her shoulder as she rolls her eyes. She’d never told anyone her and Steve were dating. All it’d taken was her wearing his letterman, and that confrontation with Jason, and everyone had been convinced, no lying necessary.

“It doesn’t matter to me what they all think.”

It does, but she’s been spending too much time with Steve, and his aloof indifference to his image has been rubbing off. She’s glad.

“But you’re telling me, because what?” he asks, still skeptical. “You have a big crush on my best friend?”

He throws finger quotations around the word crush that would be insulting if he wasn’t right. She does like Eddie. He’s weird, but nice unless provoked. But the thought of kissing his dry lips makes her nose wrinkle.

“It’s not like that,” she says again.

Jeff rolls his eyes. “Whatever.”

He walks into his next class without another word. Chrissy continues down the hall, barely making it in time for her own.

It doesn’t get better.

Jeff’s dislike, visible in his eyes anytime they cross paths, cuts at her. She finds herself seeking him out, explaining again and again, or trying to without saying anything at all.

“It’s really not like that!” she says, finally frustrated enough to raise her voice. “Steve’s handwriting is atrocious so I was just—”

She cuts herself off, hands slamming over her mouth as she realizes what she’s said. It’s just, Jeff was making that face she hates again, that one with the raised brows and judgmental smirk, and she’d gotten mad.

“Steve’s handwriting…” Jeff murmurs quietly, eyebrows now lowered and furrowed in thought.

She might’ve been able to play it off. But the silence has lingered too long, and Chrissy’s never had much of a poker face. She knows the guilt and panic in her expression is damning; she still can’t seem to wipe it off her face.

“The notes…” Jeff starts, trailing off like he can’t bear to say it, “are from Steve?”

Chrissy clenches her hand tighter across her mouth like she can somehow retroactively shove her words back into her throat, stop Jeff from having the realization that might get Steve–who’s quickly becoming her best friend–killed. But, he keeps just looking at her. So, she nods, movements jerky and scared.

“Shit,” Jeff says, finally breaking eye contact to bend over and squeeze the bridge of his nose. “That explains so much.”

Unable to stop herself, Chrissy bursts into tears.

***

Eddie heads to his locker first thing in the morning. He’s been buzzing since he dropped off the last letter, hoping against hope that she’d check there again. And there, like an answer to his prayers, is an envelope resting atop his neglected Biology textbook.

Eddie’s ready to become a believer if all his hopes and dreams keep coming true. He’ll drop down on his knees and repent for all his sins if it means these letters keep coming. In fact, he’ll do it here and now, envelope clutched between sweaty palms as his knees smack into the unforgiving floor of the hallway. All the peons around him give him a wide berth as he smacks his palms together and sends up a prayer like he’s seen people do on TV.

“What the hell are you doing?” Jeff asks, squinting down at him like this is the weirdest thing he’s ever caught Eddie doing.

“Nothing!” Eddie replies, resisting the urge to shove the letter into his mouth. He hasn’t even got to read it yet, no way is he squandering this opportunity just because Jeff’s butting his nosy little nose into his business.

But when Eddie meets Jeff’s eyes, he looks so squinty and weird, and un-Jeff-like, that Eddie’s almost worried. He stands, bruised knees aching as he shoves the envelope—gently!—into the deep pocket of his jeans. Jeff watches the paper until it’s entirely out of sight.

“You okay?” Eddie asks, hand reaching out to cup Jeff’s shoulder.

Jeff shakes his head like a dog after a bath, finally looking away from the ass of Eddie’s jeans. “What?” he asks, before shaking his head again, and it must help shake a thought loose because the next thing he says is, “I’m fine.”

Eddie keeps his eyes fixed on Jeff, wondering if it’ll be enough to break him, but all Jeff does is clench his jaw and straighten his shoulders, a warrior ready for battle.

“All right,” Eddie says, reaching his finger out to boop Jeff’s nose in that way he hates. “Keep your secrets.”

Then, he turns and walks away. He smiles as Jeff sputters behind him, calling out, “I don’t have any secrets!” just as Eddie pushes into the bathroom.

There’s a few freshmen in there, but they scatter as Eddie enters. Even still, Eddie rushes into one of the stalls and locks it behind himself. This is about as far as a lit candle and mood lighting as one can get—Eddie smells the hints of the shit the last guy in here must have taken and the fluorescents are bright enough to drill a headache into his skull—but Eddie can’t wait any longer.

He tears into the envelope, as gently as he can with impatient, shaking fingers.

  Eddie —

  I know you don’t like them, but I like sports. There’s something about depending on your body to get you through a hard work-out, you know? But, I don’t know if it’s my thing, like Dungeons and Dragons and music are yours. Maybe I don’t have a thing. Is that weird?

  My favorite color is yellow, like the sun, and sunflowers, and all those happy, bright colors. I’d love to see you in such a bright color one day, even if I do love all the black and red. It suits you.

  I’ve never dreamt much, but when they’re good, they’re usually about you, so your hopes just might come true.

  I know your handwriting, and what you yell about for the world to hear, but I don’t know as much as I’d like. I want to know everything about you. What’s your favorite color? Do you have happy dreams?

  Yours, Always

  Your Secret Admirer

  P.S. Maybe put it in Romeo and Juliet this time, the edition with the tear in the cover.

Here, tucked away in this shitty bathroom in this shitty school, Eddie Munson smiles. He’s got another note to write, and another book in the library to find.

*** 

“I have some bad news.”

Steve’s barely stepped out of his car before Chrissy’s ambushing him. He takes a startled step back into the beemer, as he meets her gaze.

Chrissy’s wringing her hands together, anxiety wafting off her. Just behind her shoulder, a guy Steve only recognizes as one of Eddie’s friends is stoutly avoiding his eyes. Whatever this is, it’s got Steve’s gut sinking into his socks.

“What happened?” Steve asks hesitantly.

His mind’s ticking away, and coming up with all the worst case scenarios. Eddie’s in trouble, or hurt, or worse. What else could bring these two together?

“Jeff knows about the letters!” Chrissy cries, words all jumbled together in her rush to get them out.

Steve takes a step back, pressing his spine uncomfortably into the metal roof of his car, instinct against an unknown threat.  No one steps after him. It’s hard to take his eyes off Jeff and Chrissy, but he does. The parking lot’s crowded with warm bodies pushing between cars, desperate to make it to class on time.

Just moments ago, Steve was one of them.

“You told him?” Steve asks, eyes locked on Chrissy.

For her part, Chrissy’s eyes look big and shiny as she nods. She takes a step forward, and it takes everything in him not to step back. It’s just—he’d thought they were friends.

“I’m sorry,” she chokes out, tears finally pouring out of her eyes.

Steve watches, stagnant, as the person he was starting to consider his best friend, cries. He wants to hug her, wants to scream at her, wants to run the hell out of here to lick his wounds in peace. But, Jeff takes a step forward, scowl on his face, and Steve takes two hasty steps back, tumbling painfully through his open driver’s side door and sprawling uncomfortably on his stick shift.

The few students nearby turn to look at him, saying snide comments to one another, barely polite enough to talk in whispers. He hardly notices, eyes locked on the main threat. Jeff’s face softens as he stops his forward momentum, foot still raised in the air for a step he doesn’t take. No one moves until everyone stops watching the spectacle and begins walking away.

Jeff’s the one who breaks the stand-off, voice quieter and gentler than he’d expected. “Maybe we shouldn’t do this here.”

Steve stares him down, still sprawled uncomfortably in his car. He’s right, but a small voice in the back of Steve’s head is wondering if they should do this at all. He wants to cut his losses and run. But, Chrissy’s still crying, and if his secret is going to be spread around the school, he’d rather have a head start out of town.

He crawls out of his seat, limbs feeling more ungainly and awkward than they have since he was prepubescent. It feels like every eye in town turns toward him as the sound of his closing car door echoes through the rapidly emptying parking lot.

“Follow me,” he says.

Turning his back on them feels like a show of trust he can’t afford, but he’s not following either of them off school grounds. The football field will be empty at this time on a Friday, especially with the rain coming down.

None of them are wearing coats, so he leads them beneath the bleachers. The rain still drips between the rafters, but there are a few dry spots big enough to stand in.

“Make-out spot, Harrington?” Jeff asks, mouth quirked up as he leans against one of the metal support beams despite it being wet and cold.

Steve’s intestines squirm around in his stomach at the way Jeff and Chrissy stay standing next to each other, a united front against Steve.

“It’s not like it’s Skull Rock,” Steve says, proud that his voice doesn’t shake. “Now, say what you want to say so I can go home.”

“There’s still school,” Chrissy hiccups out, as if he cares at all about that right now.

Jeff straightens, small smile dropping off his face as he eyes Steve. Chrissy’s face is wet. Steve’s just glad he can no longer tell what’s raindrops and what’s tears.

“I was being a dick to her,” Jeff says.

“No, you were—” Chrissy starts before Jeff talks right over her.

“All she said was that your handwriting was bad, and I put the rest together.”

A small part of Steve is soothed that Chrissy hadn’t told him on purpose. Accidents happen, he can understand that. But—

“Eddie told you about the letters?” Steve asks. He doesn’t know why he’s surprised, Jeff and Eddie are always occupying the same spaces. They must be close.

Jeff shakes his head, but it’s Chrissy that speaks first, “he saw me putting one in Eddie’s locker.”

“Oh,” Steve says, slumping into himself.

They’re both staring at him now.

Steve’s never been good with silences. When his parents are gone, he leaves the TV on in the living room all hours of the day. At school, he surrounds himself with warm bodies, all making noise. In his car, there’s always a tape playing in his deck.

“So, should I start fleeing town?” Steve asks, trying for a joking tone, but his voice cracks tellingly on the last word.

“No!” Chrissy cries.

She rushes forward, wrapping the entirety of her small body around his like she can shelter him from any harms that might come for him. Steve stumbles back, barely stabilizing before they both go tumbling into the dirt.

He wraps his arms hesitantly around her, patting her back awkwardly as she undoubtedly cries into his shoulder. She’s short enough that he can put his chin on her head, so he does. She feels right in his arms—good and warm.

Why couldn’t he like her instead?

“It’s okay, Chris,” he says, but she’s too short to hide in, and he’s got a perfect view of Jeff, still in his original spot. “It’ll be okay.”

It feels like a lie when it comes out of his mouth. He meets Jeff’s eyes, surprised when he finds them warm.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Jeff says.

It’s only then that Steve realizes how haggard his breathing had become, like he’d been running suicide’s in the gym, not standing stationary fighting the fears of his own mind.

He sucks in an unencumbered breath, the stone constricting his lungs ground down to almost nothing. Steve nods, arms still wrapped around Chrissy like she might be ripped away from him. He couldn’t have expected anything better, not in Hawkins. Except, what’s the likelihood he gets this lucky again?

He’s two for two with good reactions, what’s the likelihood the third won’t play a nice game of smear the queer?

Except, this is one of Eddie’s best friends, and does “anyone” even include him?

“Even Eddie?” Steve asks, that same damning quiver back in his voice.

Jeff shakes his head, and before Steve can begin to panic, Jeff speaks, “I think you should tell him, but it’s your secret man.”

Steve tries to find any sign of a lie on Jeff’s face. The other boy just looks placidly back, waiting his scrutiny out.

“Thank you,” Chrissy and Steve say at the same time.

They collapse into each other, giggling like fools as the adrenaline leaves them both. Behind them, Jeff’s smiling like he finds this whole thing charming.

Three might be a crowd, but Steve’s never liked being alone. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

PART 5

[fernandopiastri28]

lick it up ~ lando norris x reader

warnings: drinking, smut, pwp, angst 😬 mdni!

Lando Norris- known manwhore. When he's not in his car going 350 km/h, he chases that thrill in other things in life. Designer items, drinks, parties- women. But there's only one thing that he really wants, he craves her love- his bestfriend.

She felt a pair of sturdy arms wrap around her waist, almost suffocatingly tight. It made it hard to breathe, the paining sensation only increased by the already constricted airflow inside the crowded club. “Lan?” She murmured, her head turning each way in the hopes of catching a glimpse of her best friend. She felt woozy due to the alcohol seeping through her system and she really didn’t need to deal with an over insistent man who believed he had the privilege to her body in her current state.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Lando’s chin rested against her shoulder, his hot breath tickling her neck. Those were his arms around her, holding her body closer to him then anything surrounding the pair. “I’m here,” One of his hands travelled up to her hair, his fingers gliding through her frizzing hair. “Don’t worry,”

Sure, Lando was a naturally affectionate person, often insisting on hugging as a greeting and goodbye, or resting his head on the shoulder of absolutely anyone who was near him. He liked touch, saw it as the easiest way he could express his caring and love for others. But drunk him was another level- hands anywhere he could get them, face buried into their shoulder or neck. 

“Lan, you’re really drunk,” She giggled, pushing her slight anxiety down to her stomach as his lips started moving aimlessly against her neck. He wasn’t quite kissing there, but only because he was moving too quickly to be able to actually press his lips to a single spot. 

He grumbled, dissatisfied with her comment. “So? You are too,” Lando was sounding pissy already which only usually happened later into the night. By this point, he was usually going to go seek off some other girl to spend the night with who would fawn over his every move and beg for more.

Her head tilted back, resting against his chest slightly, “I am,” A grin played across her lips, forcing his grimace to transition into a smirk, his eyes full of pure adrenaline without a single thought behind them. “Not as much as you though,”

A nod of agreeance came from him, his hands idly moving up and down on her waist, settling on her hips for a few seconds as her body continued to aimlessly sway along with the music. “It’s difficult to be more drunk than I am- especially since you’re such a heavy weight,”

It was true, and something that Lando was incredibly envious of. He wanted her ability to pour endless drinks down her mouth, consuming absolutely anything she wanted at once and manage to feel perfectly fine the next morning, while he would find himself with a throbbing headache, next to a girl he couldn’t remember the name of. Maybe he’d never asked her though.

“Or maybe you’ve just drunk more,” She dragged a finger along his cheek. Even if she didn’t show it as much, she was certainly feeling very drunk. For once, she wanted to be like Lando, feel like him. She craved his complete confidence and how he would feel as if he was on top of the world each time a drop of alcohol entered his system.

Maybe tonight she’d finally score a man to bring home, be the one to tell Lando all about her most recent hookup instead of always being on the receiving end of hearing it from him.

But at least for right now, all of his attention was on her. He looked at her like she was one of the girls he’d want for even just a night, instead of the one he left behind each time they’d planned to go out together.

She knew full well that the way Lando treated his one night stands was far from something that she should be dreaming about almost nightly, to be the girl that woke up to the sight of Lando’s peaceful sleepy face, his dark lashes fluttering over his cheeks and his unruly curls- but she knew a different side of him. The one that was loving, that cared. The side of him that would talk in the highest of praise about the girls he did really like, and how he never once spoke ill of someone to her.  

He was different then how he came across, she knew that.

He held a bottle of some blue liquid, the spout of it resting against his bottom lip. She ogled up at him, her eyes wide and pupils huge. “Hello,” He grinned, laughing at her dopey upside down expression as she leaned against him. “You’re smiley tonight,” He teased, his hand wrapping tighter around her stomach to keep her up.

“I am smiley,” A deep sigh left her chest, her cheeks beginning to hurt from how wide her smile was stretching out. “I like your face,” She mumbled out, each syllable oozing into the next. “It’s a good face- a true one at that,” Her body wasn’t used to this much alcohol, and she was feeling any kind of shame melting away and just a desperate need to be completely honest. 

A rosy flush was almost definitely covering her face at this point, given how hot it felt to the touch. “I like your face too,” He smiled, his nose nudging against her forehead. It felt unexplainable, like a thousand bolts of lightning crashing into her all at once. “It’s pretty cute,” His thumb swiped along her chin, nudging it open so he could place the finish of his bottle inside her mouth, the glass heavy on her bottom teeth.

He tilted it up, letting it run over her tongue and pool up inside her mouth. It was near sickening sweet, likely what his mouth tasted like given how much he’d already drunk the majority of it. “Good,” Two of his fingers tapped her chin again, his other fingers clasping the neck of the bottle so it didn’t drop. She shut her mouth, swallowing awkwardly due to the angle her head was at. 

Once her mouth was empty again, her lips parted, her eyes moving up further to where the whites underneath her iris’ were even more visible. “More?’ She mumbled, her back shifting back unconsciously to steady herself against him. He granted her wish, keeping her mouth open as he hooked his two fingers over her bottom teeth as more alcohol spilt into her mouth.

“Fucking hell,” He hissed, his pink tongue darting out between his teeth in concentration. Their eyes refused to move and break contact, tension just building the longer the moment lasted. “You’re so fucking hot doing that,”

Her body got hotter at the praise, her mind short circuiting and essentially spilling out of her ears. “You’re sexy,” Her lips wrapped around the bottle, suckling on it gently as the final few drops spilt onto her tongue. 

He went silent, his eyes darting across her face as a way to memorise each curvature and feature complete. He wanted to engrave this moment into his mind for the rest of time. The bottle slid down her mouth further, her lips pursing and stretching thinner around the thickness. His mouth dropped open ever so slightly, his eyes near bulging out of his head at the erotic sight.

He was hard, undoubtedly. His arousal pressed against her ass where her dress clung tightly around. He grinded against her, desperate for some sense of contact and pressure against his ache. “ Baby ,” He whined into her neck, pulling the bottle away from her mouth to rest it against some table.  

Her heart pounded harder in her chest, feeling like it could explode at any given moment. The mix of the nickname, the desperation in his voice, the way his crotch was rubbing straight against her. “ Lan ,” She moaned, turning around so her chest was pressed against his, the silk fabric of his button up gliding against her exposed skin. “Please,” Her voice cracked with straight need.

“Please what ?” His hand settled into place against her jawline, his palm flush with the front of her neck, the slightest pressure against it. He knew what she wanted, both of their intentions so crystal clear, but he wanted to hear her say it- needed it.

“Kiss me,” Her voice was so fucking weak at that point, her expression completely wanton and eager for him. His eyes went straight to her lips where a glossy whine of the remaining alcohol coated them, making them even more red and wetter. The grip his hand had on her jaw tightened, putting her head into the perfect position for him.

His mouth moved against hers quickly, her bottom lip slotting in between hers in an almost practised manner. Her mouth parted, his tongue slipping inside the warm emptiness within seconds. Moans from her spilt into his mouth, the vibrating sensation going straight to his dick, somehow getting even harder with each movement she made against him.

One of her hands trailed up to his hair, tugging on his curls. They were so delicate in between her fingers, perfect coils wrapping around each digit. Her other hand snuck up under his shirt, the back of her hand brushing against the soft silk while her palm and finger tips explored his hardened abs. 

“More,” She begged, her nose nudging against his as their lips finally broke away. His breathing was heavy, laboured almost. Their bodies were still resting flush against each other as his left hand sat heavily on her ass, squeezing it, while his other remained cupping her face. 

“What do you want, gorgeous?” His voice was lower, breathless from making out for so long. He’d tipped his head down, his mouth close to her ear. There were so many things she wanted- she wanted to kiss more, she wanted to feel his tongue all around her mouth, she wanted to taste him, she really wanted to fix the ache in between her legs.

So with not even half her brain working to put together a proper cohesive sentence, she mumbled out the first thing that came to mind, “ Hotel ,”. Whether it was her hotel or his wasn’t important, all that mattered was for them to have a private room to stay up all night together in private. Because despite how at this point she could probably be convinced to drop down onto her knees and suck his cock right then and there without much effort from the brit- it wouldn’t look too good for an f1 driver to be receiving a blowjob in a random club in Singapore. 

Maybe his one would be nicer on the other hand, a Formula one driver would likely have been supplied a higher star hotel then some girl in law school using her own money to pay.

With one swift move, each of her legs were on either side of his waist, her thighs bracketing his hips to keep herself up. One of his arms snaked around her waist for stability as he navigated his way out of the club, avoiding anyone who was clearly trying to approach him for either a photo or an autograph. 

She buried her face in the collar of his shirt, one of her hands trying to cover her face in a last chance attempt to conceal her identity in case anyone had been filming. It was something she should’ve considered before they started making out, but she couldn’t change the past now.

The humid Singaporean air struck them the second they pushed past the entrance doors. A thin sheen of sweat collected on the back of Lando’s neck, but she was unaffected. Singapore was a consistent visit of hers so she’d become accustomed to the near unbearable heat. 

A taxi rolled up right to where they were standing and before she even had the chance to ask when he managed to book one, Lando’s mouth was on hers again. She didn’t even notice the taxi door being opened until he was arranging her on his lap in the backseat, his eyes going directly down to her breasts. He placed a soft kiss to one where some cleavage was exposed from the dress’s style, while his hand worked at kneading the flesh.

A whimper of satisfaction passed by her lips, earning a shit-eating grin from the man. He continued his ministrations, tugging down some of the fabric over her breast to kiss further down her chest. Her head tipped back, hitting against the headrest of the passenger seat. As she ground her hips harder into his, each bump of the road that the car hit just pushed his boner further against her drenched cunt through her panties, a wet patch forming on his trousers.

“Pretty thing,” He trailed his lips up her neck, her jaw, then suckling on just her bottom lip. “So fucking wet for me,” He growled, pulling her body impossibly closer to him. Part of her wished she’d been sober for this- to be able to enjoy this moment with complete clarity and be sure to remember each and every event the next morning.

The drive seemed excruciatingly long, but had only been a mere few minutes in reality. Her body had essentially moulded into his by the end of it, her legs unable to work to take her to the elevator up to his room. They didn’t need to work though, he was more than excited at the opportunity to carry her as long as he could.

And she sure as hell wouldn’t be able to walk by the end of the evening. 

The second the elevator doors drew to a close, Lando’s hand was tugging her panties to the side, allowing a finger to slide along her clit, “Good?” He nuzzled his head into her neck, kissing the smooth skin there over and over. The touch was met with a string of pleasured moans, all more beautiful than the last.

He got prepared before the doors reopened, grabbing his phone out with his keycard secured in the back of it, ready to open the door the second they arrived so he could be on top of her as quickly as possible. The grazing of his finger stopped long enough for him to unlock the door, and resumed as soon as it clicked shut.

“Lando, fuck, please,” She begged, overstimulated by all the drawn out teasing of the night. “Just finger me already,” She was at her wits end, completely ready to just touch herself if he wouldn’t take it a step further right then.

She didn’t have to do that though as he answered her prayers, sliding a thick finger into her aching cunt. A sigh of relief left her lips, her hole clenched around his finger in reflex. He carried her into the bedroom, settling her down on the bed as he hovered over her, his knees on either side of her hips as he covered her face in chaste open mouthed kisses.

The pleasure turned to a quick flash of dull pain when he removed his finger, pulling her underwear down and tossing them across the room in a drunken hurry. His green eyes widened as he stared directly at her pussy, his pupils shooting wide in lust. “Fuckk,” He sighed, “Can I.. taste?” He wasn’t sure exactly how to word the request but she granted him permission regardless. 

He shuffled down, his massive hands grasping her thighs to position them over his shoulders. She lifted her hips off the mattress so as to allow him to push the bottom of her dress higher up before his head dipped down, his nose nudging at her clit. The sensation sends a rush of slick straight to where his mouth was readily waiting.

Tentatively, the tip of his tongue licked alongside her hole to her clit, emitting a shudder and a groan from the girl. He squeezed down on her thighs, rubbing the right one with his thumb to help her calm down. “What colour?” He murmured, looking up at her from between her legs. 

“Green,” Her head tilted back, hitting against the pillow as she moaned into it. With the go ahead, his tongue repeated the motion, pulling more noises out of her throat. He began to eagerly lap at her wetness, the taste coating over his tongue as he grew more desperate to make her cum.

He had become increasingly more aware of the pain in his trousers, his neglected erection tenting uncomfortable in his too tight boxers. Squeezing one of her thighs tighter to make up for the loss of his hand, he reached his hand down to his crotch and began palming at the spot. He tilted his head down, his tongue fucking her while his nose buried into her bundle of nerves.

She was feeling so much. The way his tongue was buried deep inside her, how his nose was expertly rubbing her clit, his hands stroking the insides of her thighs where goosebumps prickled, and most of all- the way his deep emerald eyes remained staring into her soul. He lapped at her wetness like he’d been deprived of sex for years- in reality it couldn’t have been more than a month. 

He had a one track mind, always did. His only goal in life was win, win, win. And today’s prize was making the beautiful girl laying on his bed, his best friend, cum with his mouth. Determined to make that happen, and make it happen right then, his teeth grazed against her slit gently to overstimulate her. 

Sure enough, the action got her legs shaking and her back arching. “Fuck, Lando,” Her hand yanked on his hair, effectively pulling him away slightly. His eyes went wide in shock, it certainly hadn’t been the reaction he’d expected. 

“I’m sorry,” He kissed the inside of her left thigh, his hand idly tenderly rubbing her knee. “Did it hurt?” She shook her head, having to crane her neck to look down at him. His cheek rubbed against her leg, another kiss to the bend of her knee. That time he suckled the spot, hollowing his cheeks to leave a small red spot when he pulled away.

“No, no- just.. sensitive,” She had to take a few moments to breathe, her chest raising and dropping with forced effort. “You- you can go again,” It’s more of a request than a suggestion, and he took it seriously. 

His mouth returned to her heat, his tongue swiping up in a practised motion, each one met with more noises of delight and pleasure. A hand yanking his hair again signalled her orgasm, spilling into his mouth. He drew to a halt, going slower as she came down from her high so it wouldn’t ache from the abrupt ending.

He scooted up so his face was just mere inches above hers. He couldn’t even try to force back the smile that played on his face upon seeing how absolutely fucked out she was. Her half lidded eyes, bitten lips, sweaty skin- it was truly a sight. He kissed her, over and over, wanting nothing more than to experience the pressure of her mouth on his.

As he kept his lips on hers, he began tugging down the top of her dress to reveal her strapless bra, one of his hands moved underneath her back, his fingers toying with the clasp of her bra before snapping it open. His fingers inched the thick fabric away, the pads of his fingers grazing along her bare chest. “I’m surprised it took you so long to get that off,” She snickered, “Thought you’d wanna see my boobs first thing,” Lando felt a wave of shame rush over him, drowning in embarrassment of her comment. 

He puffed hot air up onto his top lip, a slight snarl twisting his lips. “Is that how I make you feel? Like all I want from you is your body?” His tone was harsh, piercing her skin and leaving a mark. Her expression shifted from her drunken daze to somewhat more alert. The sting behind his tone was solely just a cover for his genuine hurt, unbeknownst to her.

“No, no, Lans..” Her hand cupped his cheek, her voice softening as she said it. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean it like that at all,” She angled for a kiss, receiving one almost immediately as he was an absolute sucker for an apology kiss. “If anything that’s more me, I was the one begging for you earlier,” That soothed his nerves, his mood switching back to aiming for pleasure.

He sat back on his heels as she shuffled her legs closer to her, her knees bending up towards the ceiling while still straightened enough to allow them to keep their eye contact. Lando bit his bottom lip, a cheeky grin sneaking out through it. “Sex?” He finally asked, watching her expression turn to match his. 

She leaned forward, hands tangling up in the fabric of his button up. Within seconds it had joined her panties somewhere flung mindlessly across the floor. Her fingers massaged into the groves of his back muscles, relishing in how each one ripples with each sudden movement he makes.

His fingers clasped around the zip of her dress, pulling it down tantalisingly slowly. With each bit of skin that was further revealed, his lips peppered kisses down her body. Her eyes fluttered shut, lost in the pleasure and an overwhelming feeling of ‘ oh god, finally’. As she felt the last of her dress removed and likely joined the other discarded clothes, Lando let out a short breath of exhilaration.

His nose nudged her neck, lips focused on her collarbones. “Open your eyes,” He grumbled, his thumbs kneading into her waist. “Want you to see this, pretty thing,” Her eyelids were heavier than ever so opening them felt like a chore. 

A flush of wetness streamed straight to her core as she felt him rocking his hips against her cunt. With a flurry of hands and mouths on eachother, she tucked her fingers into his boxer’s waistband and shoved them down, his hardened cock smacking up to hit his stomach.

Her eyes practically turned black as her pupils grew beyond a size Lando deemed possible. “Happy?” A finger slid back inside her like it had been before, moving in and out before realising she’s definitely ready enough for a second one. 

“Horny,” His free hand tightened in place over her hips, lifting up to help his digits reach further into her. He ignored her clit, wanting her to finish for a second time when he was actually inside her.

The head of his cock was reddened and had drops of pre-cum lining all over it. He removed his fingers from inside of her, met with a groan of discomfort, and moved that hand to wrap around his aching shaft. “I needa fuck you right now,” Lando grumbled, his hand stroking his throbbing cock a few times before meeting her eyes, seeing only pure lust and want.

His hands gripped her legs, pulling them apart and locking them to wrap around his waist. One hand returned back to his dick, guiding it into her dripping hole. A gasp was punched from her throat as he got close to bottoming out. She was full, insanely full, as if he was to leave right then she wouldn’t have been a complete woman without him inside her.

Admittedly, there was definitely a fair amount of pain that accompanies the intrusion, but it doesn’t come close to the overwhelming pleasure. “Colour?” His voice was thick as he moved in and out of her with renewed energy.

“Green,” 

Lando went faster and deeper. 

“Greener,” Her expression was dazed and dopey as she looked up at him, her lips lax as she tried to express that she wanted kisses while he ruined her.

He didn’t get the hint, just pushed her legs further up and went quicker.

He finished first and she followed quickly after. He collapsed on top of her in an exhausted pile of a mess, his breathing heavy and manual. “That was so fucking good,” Her eyes trailed up to the ceiling, a sort of emptiness filling the void. She wished he would shut up as he kept rambling on about how pretty she was and how perfect tonight had been. Post sex clarity set in, and hit hard.

Because not only did she just hook up with an f1 driver in a random country, that driver was the man that had been her best friend for years and was a known manwhore. “I love you,” He mumbled, his hand playing with her hair. “Always have, for fucking years I’ve loved you” She didn’t hear him though, his mouth muffled with a blanket in front of it and her ears covered by her pillow.

He fell asleep with his body half on top of her, his arm draped across her chest. Of course he wasn’t the type to practise aftercare. She wiggled out from underneath him, her eyes rimmed with exhaustion and the desperate need for sleep. As soon as her feet hit the plush cushioning of the carpet and the city lights of Singapore nightlife illuminated her face, she realised the grim mistake she’d made.

So with that, she picked her bra and underwear up off the floor, nicking a pair of his smallest shorts and an oversized McLaren hoodie, wrapped herself up in those clothes and headed downstairs to the lobby, calling a taxi to her own account despite how the receptionist said the charge could go to the room she’d stayed in- to Lando.

Even though he had plenty of money to his name and on his card, and how a fifteen dollar taxi would hardly be noticed- she didn’t want to feel an obligation to him to pay him back for this. She needed clarity and space, and feeling like she owed him wouldn’t allow that. 

With a quick text sent to him, ‘ thanks for tonight, don’t think we should do it again,’ she stepped into her taxi and headed to her own hotel, showering his touch off under scalding water.

The next morning when he woke up tangled in a heap of blankets and pillow, he noticed how cold and empty the bed was. “Love?” His voice thick with sleep, his arms aimlessly reaching for her. They hit nothing though, he was alone in his bed. 

He sat up in a panic, every single moment from the night before remembered exactly. Dancing at the club, his drink in her mouth, the look in her eyes. Back at the hotel, his hands undressing her, their mouths attached to each other’s with undoubtable passion. Him buried inside her, how she’d sounded, how gorgeous she’d looked underneath him.

He’d fucking told her he loved her. And now she was gone. 

The now cold bed sheets wound tighter around his body, the false feeling of an embrace not nearly enough to heal the hurt.

~ part 2 ~

[cassie48]

Ｄｏｎ’ｔ ｙｏｕ ｂｅｌｉｅｖｅ?

(Dark!Paul Atreides x Sayyadina! Reader)

𝘈|𝘕; 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘗𝘢𝘶𝘭 𝘈𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰 also 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘮𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰𝘰….

!Keep in mind all dialogue is in the native Fremen language. Also for this Jessica isn’t the reverend mother!

SMUT SMUT AND SMUT

———————————————————————-

You sat in the prayer room, whisperers escaping your mouth. Before, you prayed to the Shai-Hulud, but now? Now you pray for your messiah, who goes by the name of Paul Atreides.

As you knelt on the hard stone flour, you held your hands together. You were all alone in the room, the others had left for the night, but not you. You felt at peace here.

You were so devoted to your job, always seen praying or worshipping your new mahdi. You had created a strong bond with Lady Jessica. She had took you under her wing, appreciating your kindness and how you believed in Paul.

As you prayed you paused, hearing a noise near the entrance behind you, putting your hands down by your side, you turned, and saw no other than Paul Atreides watching you.

“Hello” he said smirking down at you.

“Lisan al-Gaib, forgive me I did not hear you” yous said scrambling to your feet and bowing slightly in fear and astonishment.

“No need to forgive me, I interrupted your prayer” he said walking closer to you.

You gulped, you had never had a one on one conversation with your messiah before and you didn’t really know what to say.

Paul noticed your nerves and spoke again “I came here to seek guidance” He said continuing to walk towards you.

“Oh, well the reverend mother would be best suited for that job Usul” You said trying your best to contain your anxiety.

“Oh god no, I couldn’t talk to her about this” He said smiling down at your small face.

“Oh” you said unsure what else you could say.

“May I confide in you instead?” He asked trying his best not to smirk.

“Oh, I’m not sure that’s a good idea, the elders wouldn’t be happy I’m just a sayyadina. You’d be best to speak with someone higher up” you said, surprised you managed to get the words out.

“I don’t care what the elders think” he snarled

Your eyes widened, not used to hearing someone disrespect the elders of your sietch. You swallowed, not knowing what to say.

“Forgive me, that came out the wrong way. I simply mean, the elders pray for me yes?” He said, knowing your answer.

“I- of course Usul” you said nervously.

“Then whatever I choose to do, they will stand by me. I know the way, you must understand that?” He said, now very close to you.

You felt like crying, how could you be so stupid, you had disrespected your Messiah. “I’m sorry” you whispered.

Paul took your right cheek in his hand, cupping it. “No apology is necessary, now may I speak with you” he said, dropping his hand.

Your cheeks grew red at his touch “of course, you can confide in me, I will try my best to help” you swallowed.

Paul took your hand, and led you to the centre of the room, and motioning you to sit down in the centre of the circle. You stopped, knowing you weren’t supposed to.

“I can’t sit here usul, it’s reserved only for the Reverend mother” you said, fear evident in your rushed words.

Your reverend mother had taken on the role about five years ago, when the previous one had passed away. She wasn’t pleasant whatsoever, and had a grudge against you that you never understood. Even though she was the reverend mother, she did not show much appreciation or belief for your Mahdi.

“Oh please, I don’t see her here, what’s the worst that could happen?” He said laughing lightly.

“No, really I’m not trying to disrespect you usul but I can’t” you said making it obvious you feared the thought of even doing it.

“Why are you so afraid?” He asked, his tone now sounding angry.

You bowed your head down, not wanting to say why, knowing that would be seen as disrespectful to the Reverend Mother.

“Tell me” he ordered.

“I- she’d punish me if she found out” you said, your words coming out so fast he barely heard them, but he did.

“Punish you?” He questioned, to which you nodded.

“How?” He barked.

“She, she hits me sometimes, when she says I’ve been disappointing” you say, holding back tears thinking of all the times she’s slapped or shoved you.

Paul said nothing for a moment, fearing if he did he’d scare you, he had never felt such rage before until now. To think someone had laid a finger on you. You were his, and if someone hurt you, he would hurt them back.

“How many times had this happened” he said his voice cold and demanding.

“I don’t really know, at least once or twice a month. She says I’m weak, and that I’ll never be good enough to be a sayyadina. That I should just give up” You said, tears now falling down your cheeks, silently.

Your head was still facing the floor, embarrassed to even look at Paul, in your state. Your breath caught in your throat when you felt the touch of his hand. He wiped your tears. His hand was soft. How odd, a man that had killed thousands, and his hand felt soft. He slowly led you to sit down where you had been so scared to before.

“No need to cry, that won’t be happening anymore” he said making you lift your head in confusion.

“What, I don’t understand” you said, your eyebrows raised in confusion at his words.

“Do you know why I came here to confide in you” he asks, his hand still resting on your cheeks.

You nod your head no, he had never explained to you why he had sought you out in the first place.

“I did because, I had a vision” he began

Your eyes lit up in excitement and your heart raced. To think your Mahdi would tell you his vision firsthand made you feel special, something your rarely felt while being a Sayyadina.

“I had a vision of you, you were sitting in the sand, the sun on your skin.” He said, looking into the distance as he recollected the images of you in his head.

“M-Me?” You stuttered, completely taken aback

“Yes, you. You were by my side, my truthsayer, the empires truthsayer” He revealed, now looking down at your expression.

“Mahdi I- this cannot be true!” You said, your mouth wide open.

“You think me a fool? You think my visions are just hallucinations?” He questioned you.

“No! No! I believe you! You are Lisan Al-Gaib, I trust you. All I meant is, I don’t think I’m that important, I’m no where near as clever as some of the other sayyadina that are amongst us here” you said.

“You must believe in yourself” He said, feeling annoyed that you were so self-doubtful.

“It is hard when everyone around you tells you that you’re nothing” you said, offering him a sad smile.

“You are not nothing! You are everything” He said locking eyes with you

You filled, your cheeks reddening from his compliment

“You wanna know what else I saw in my vision?” He suddenly asked.

You nodded quickly, eager to know what else your messiah saw in your future.

“You stood with me, not just as my truthsayer, but as my wife” He said watching to see your reaction.

Your eyes widened further, if it were even possible, and your mouth moved to say something but nothing came out.

“You trust me right?” He asked scooting closer to where you were sitting.

You nodded, still not able to speak from the shock she was experiencing.

“So trust my visions” He said as he leant down even further his lips almost touching yours as he spoke once more

“Have you ever been kissed?” He questioned eager to hear your answer.

“No” you whispered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

“Good girl” Is all he said as he leant in closing the very small gab between you two. He kissed you full force, passion lingering between you and him. He took his hand and placed it around the side of your head, trying to get as close to you as possible.

You finally began to kiss him back, once you had built up the courage, the whole experience was completely new to you. Most Sayyadina wait until they are “of age” to have any sort of relations with another Fremen.

You pulled away as fear entered you once more “usul I shouldn’t be doing this, I will be in trouble” you said your eyes glued to his feeling as though you had no control over how you were reacting.

“If anyone ever tells you what to do again I will kill them” is all he said as he kissed you again, this time more rough than the last.

He placed his hands around your side, pulling your body over to his, now plush against you.

You moaned, unknown sensations entering your body that felt extremely good. You felt him slightly push his knee into the gap of your legs and you found yourself moving your hips to meet it too.

He shoved his tongue into your mouth and you let him, his dominant personality showing.

The nice sensation you were felling grew when he pushed his knee further into your aching heat, now you felt it fully.

You moaned again, this time a lot louder than the last, again your body acted before you even thought of your actions. You rolled your hips against his knee and gasped when you felt utter satisfaction.

You broke away “what, what is this?” You asked as you moved your hips against his leg once again, not really knowing what you were doing, just knowing that you felt really good. You had never really been educated on sex, you knew it was something a couple did to conceive, but you didn’t know how it worked, or felt.

“It feels good, right” he asked you

You nodded after a moment, looking down between your legs where you saw his knee rubbed up against your core, that was covered by only the fabric your cloak, which was almost see through from the wetness that was leaving you.

“Then keep going, I wanna make you feel good” he said.

You said nothing else as he pushed his knee against you and you completely widened your legs again and your dripping heat now sitting on his leg as you grinded down, putting your head against his shoulder, as he held you.

“It feels s-so good usul” you whimpered as he held you tightly.

“Your doing so well, keep going” he said watching as you brought pleasure to yourself.

You now moved, almost entirely on his lap, and grinded down, moaning when he’d move his leg up slightly to help you out. He leaned down and locked lips with you again.

As you kissed him his hand moved down to where you eagerly wanted to feel nice, he first drew his fingers against your inside thigh, teasing you.

After he noticed it was working and you moved more desperately against him, he slowly brought his hand lower, to your core.

He moved his finger against your clit, smirking slightly as your eyes widened and your groans grew louder. Wanting to please you even further, he moved to place a finger inside you.

You tender up, the new feeling making you slightly embarrassed “usul?” She asked

“I need to prepare you before I make love to you” is all he said. You nodded fully trusting him.

You gripped into his shoulders tighter, muffling your moans, and he moved his finger in and out of your aching pussy.

He placed another finger inside when he noticed you were getting closer to your peak. You moved your hips down, meeting him halfway, as you muffled your moans once more, the pressure building upon in your lower tummy.

“Let all your sounds out. I want to hear. I want them to hear.” He said growing more possessive.

You cried out as you came undone, your juices going all over his fingers, he held you up with his free arm, letting you hold him as you came down fork your high.

He lifted his two fingers up and licked your juices off them, before laying you down and kissing you again, his tongue invading your mouth once more. Once he had you underneath him, he pulled off your long fabric down, that all Sayyadina must wear.

He smiled down at your naked body, you felt uncomfortable and insecure, no one had ever seen you naked before, you tried your best to cover yourself.

“Don’t hide yourself from me malak” he said making you blush. (Angel)

“I intend to know every part of you” he added and finally you removed your hands revealing your small but perky breasts.

Paul smirked down at the sight, you really did look beautiful. Laying down underneath him, ready to be claimed.

He slowly began to suck on your breasts, at first you found it odd, but then it started to feel nice, and you began sticking your chest up, wanting him to keep going.

He pulled away, making you slightly pout “don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll make you feel good soon” he promised.

He slowly began to move down your body, leaving kisses all over it as he did, and you smiled in satisfaction and love.

One he reached your pussy again, he guided your thighs away from each other and you swallowed, excited to fell nice again, but wondering what he was going to do to you.

He kissed the crease on the very inside of your leg, and you felt butterflies in your stomach, your legs moving impatiently.

He moved his head down even closer to your core, making your brows crease in confusion, wondering what he was about to do, but your eyes quickly widened, and your back arched when he placed his mouth onto your pussy.

He slowly licked it, collecting any of the remaining juices from your previous orgasm, before beginning to eat you eat, grabbing your thighs to keep you in place.

You yelled out, fidgeting as he nudged his nose against your bud. Your hands found his dark curls, and you tangled them within them.

You rolled your hips onto his face, that familiar pressure building up yet again “keep going please” you said smiling but it quickly dropped when he pulled away.

You were about to question him when he began to remove his own clothes and you sat waiting to see what he was going to do. Everything he had already done to you felt amazing and even seeing him without his clothes made you tingle inside once more.

He leaned over you, kissing your neck once more. You felt his hot breath on your skin. You wanted to fell even more of him.

“I’m gonna make you feel good ok? It might feel odd at first, but then it will feel amazing” he said cupping your cheek. You nodded, saying nothing else.

He slowly entered you, and you grasped onto him and you froze. This was not what you thought happened during sex.

“Usul?” You whimpered.

“Shh, your ok. Relax, it will feel nicer if you do” He told you, kissing your cheek gently.

You listen you his words and try to relax your body to the best ability you can. After a moment, he began to thrust in and out you.

Your mouth widened, you realised he was right. It did feel good, very good.

After a minute you began to move your hips with his, matching his rhythm. “Oh Usul” you cried holding onto him for dear life.

“I’ve got you baby” He said as he groaned as well, kissing down on your neck. He matched your noises and you two moved together at a perfect speed.

“You were made for me, all mine” he groaned as he hit your g spot, making you cry out.

“I’m yours” you whimpered

You continued to make loved for a few more moments, and you locked eyes with him, his bright now blue eyes, looked directly into yours.

You both began you became rougher, almost sat your peaks, you began to cry out “usul, I’m gonna-

You were cut off, a voice of a women you had heard all too many times. The voice of a women that had hurt you, physically and mentally.

“What is going on?!” The reverend mother yelled, fury written all over her features.

Paul ignored her for a moment, both of you reaching your peaks, and he spilled himself deep inside you, and waited a moment before pulling out, making sure none of his seed went to waist. He pulled his bottoms back up and kissed you lustfully, before placing your dress on top of your naked body, as you tried to stay conscious.

“I’ll just be a moment, my love” he said

He turned and the smile he had offered you, turned to a furious and hateful glare, seeing the woman who had hurt you multiple times enter the room.

Thankfully, she had entered the room when the two of you had finished, but she knew exactly what was going on due to the loud noises both of you had been letting out.

“What exactly do you think your doing!” The elder woman yelled out.

Paul’s angry expression grew “I’m claiming my wife to be” he said watching as her face grew more shocked and angry.

“She is not marrying you!” The woman yelled once more.

“She carries my child, I will be marrying her” Paul said proudly.

“You can’t know that yet!” She yelled annoyed.

“Yes I can, I’ve seen it. I’ve seen my beautiful wife sitting where you sit now, a child growing inside of her” Paul said, knowing he was annoying the woman further.

“I won’t allow it! I am the reverend mother” She said with a smirk.

“Not anymore” Paul said matching her smirk as he watched as her face dropped.

Paul grabbed a nearby Crysknife and slit the woman’s throat, watching emotionlessly as she bled out on the floor, and died.

A nearby Fremen guard eventually came to the scene “mahdi! What has happened to our Reverend mother?” He asked with shock and worry.

“She tried to kill me, I wish I didn’t have to do that, but she was going to stab me” Paul said, his acting extremely good and believable.

“Thank God you are ok! I will alert Stilgar of this incident” The man said running away.

Paul took one last look at the woman, before smiling and walking away. He knew his plan would work. People knew she never liked him, and so it would be believable that she had tried to kill him.

Once he returned to you, he knelt down, pulling your head into his lap, playing with your hair gently.

“What has happened Usul? Who’s blood is that?” You said with fear.

“You need not worry. Our Reverend mother has had an accident, but I have a replacement” Paul said stroking your face lovingly.

“Really, who?”you asked, shock all over your face.

“You” Is all he said, as he picked you up in his arms.

A|N; I’m a quite proud of this!

I hope you all enjoyed it :)

[kittenintheden]

how to train your brat

oh fuck it you gremlins have this mess of a scene lol. consider it a sneak preview for a far future chapter of NYS. you can skip it if you want to save it for later.

Rating: E Pairing: Astarion/Ori (f!OC) Word Count: 2.2k Content: 18+, Ori bratting, (unascended) Astarion brat-taming, light BDSM elements, blowjob, teasing, dirty talk, light spanking, orgasm denial, PIV sex, established relationship, safe sane consensual, future NYS content

The moment the door swings shut, Astarion throws the bolt and stalks up behind Ori, grabbing her upper arms and pulling her flush against him so that she can feel his arousal against her arse. She hums and pushes back into it, thinking she knows what he has planned, so he gives her a little shake.

He puts his mouth to her ear and growls, “Oh, darling, you think you’ve earned this? My little scoundrel. You’ve been nothing short of a complete brat all damned day.”

“You liked it,” she teases, attempting to tilt her head back so she can nip at his ear. He doesn’t let her move.

“She thinks she’s so very clever, leaving me aching for hours,” he whispers, giving her one more light shake to drive the point home that she’s not to move. He releases one of her arms and reaches straight down the front of her leggings, seeking the slick he knows waits there. She groans and grinds into his touch, trying to get a draw across her clit, but he intentionally pulls back.

“No, no,” he says, removing his hand and bringing his fingers, shining with wet, to his mouth so he can lick his tongue along them. “You don’t get rewarded for this behavior. Don’t think I haven’t been able to tell that you’ve been soaking through your smallclothes all day. This was all for you. Filthy girl.”

She hums again, the flush across her cheeks belying her nonchalance. “And what, pray tell, are we going to do about that?”

“We aren’t doing anything,” he says, spinning her around so he can put a hand under her jaw and make her look him in the face. “You’re the brat. Do you know what happens to brats?”

“What’s that?” she breathes, her smile seductive and easy. She peeks out her tongue to curl toward his mouth.

“Brats have to beg,” he whispers, holding her in place. “So get on your knees and ask sweetly. And if you’re a very good girl and I’m feeling very generous, I might let your needy cunt take the cock it so desperately wants.”

She pouts, then, sticking out her lower lip and giving him her biggest, saddest eyes. “Even though I could soothe your ache? It must be so much to bear by now.” 

His grin spreads over his face and he shakes his head. “You’ve no idea how long I can wait, my love,” he says. “Your move.”

Ori gives him several slow blinks, judging his resolve. When he doesn’t waver, she smirks and turns her head just enough to place a tiny lick along his thumb.

Then she goes down.

His breath catches. Part of him hadn’t expected her to do it. Thought she’d tap out. But she doesn’t. She’s on her knees before him, looking up doe-eyed and waiting for whatever’s next. Waiting for him to tell her what’s next.

Astarion’s pupils blow out and he exhales.

“Hands behind your back,” he says, voice pitched low.

Ori puts her hands behind her back.

He rotates his shoulders and his spine goes straight as he looks down at her, a calm settling over him. A confidence. It’s like pulling on a persona, but it’s more than that, because he wants to do it. He wants to be this version of himself right now, and he can take it off again if he chooses.

Astarion puts a knuckle under her chin and sharpens the tilt of her head, making it so she has no choice but to look him directly in the eye.

“Are you going to be good for me, Orianna?” he says in a voice like honey.

She licks along her lips and leaves them parted a moment before she answers, “Yes, dearest. I’ll be so good for you.”

A shiver runs up his spine and he huffs a laugh, rolling his neck before he looks down at her again. “You certainly will.” His fingers go to his laces, undoing his stays without any particular hurry as Ori’s eyes trace the action. He reaches inside and strokes along his cock, throwing his head back with a sigh at the temporary relief. His head tips forward again and he continues to work himself.

Ori bites her lip and slowly lets it go as she watches the movement.

He’s breathy as he says, “If I were a cruel man, I’d do it myself while you watch and then leave you wanting after how you’ve behaved.” Stroke. Stroke. “But I’ll be generous. I’ll give you a chance to convince me.”

She shudders her breath out and flicks her eyes back up to his face.

Stroke.

“If you’d like to come tonight,” he purrs. “Then beg for what you want, brat.”

Ori swallows and he watches her face go soft and pleading, lip quivering. He knows it’s an act, just like his, but gods is it convincing.

“I’m so sorry, love,” she says tearfully. “I’ve been just awful. I’m desperate for you. Empty. I need you, beloved. Your touch. Your mouth. Your cock. Please let me do better. Please, may I? May I be good for you?”

The rush of arousal makes him lightheaded, swaying on his feet for a second before he rights himself. “Show me how good,” he breathes, pulling his cock free for her. “Slowly, now.”

She holds his eye as she leans forward, arms clasped tightly behind her back, and licks the flat of her tongue along the underside of the head of his cock, working extra carefully around the sensitive bit where his foreskin connects.

His right knee buckles the tiniest bit before he catches himself.

Ori maintains eye contact as she kisses down the shaft and runs her tongue along the seam between his balls and all the way back up again.

He swallows thickly and raises a brow at her. “You can do better, darling.”

Rising to the challenge, Ori takes him fully in her mouth, bobbing down halfway the first time and then a little deeper with each successive try. She hollows her cheeks and her mouth is hot and soft and her tongue is rolling in waves along his length. He struggles not to simply melt into the sensation. 

As directed, she keeps an agonizing pace, sucking him slowly so he can feel every bit of it. He breathes in deep through his nose and exhales through his mouth as he watches her pleasuring him at his direction, leaving herself untouched. It stokes the fire in his belly and he can’t stop the moan in his throat as the tension of the day catches up with him.

Gently, he cants his hips to meet her, beginning to lose himself in the relief her sweet mouth provides. His eyes fall closed and he cards his fingers through her hair on one side, thumb instinctively rubbing small circles against her ear. She moans around him and Astarion feels his cock harden further.

“Oh, good girl,” he whispers. “Ah, such a good girl.”

The deliciously slow build begins to develop a sharper edge, his pleasure mounting.

But oh, he’s not done with her yet.

With an absolutely monumental effort, Astarion claws the shredded strings of his thoughts back together long enough to use his hand to stop her movement. He draws back from her and she peers up at him, waiting, a strand of her saliva still connecting them. She blinks her wide eyes at him like an innocent.

“Up,” he grunts, holding out a hand for her. She accepts it and allows him to pull her to standing.

He can see that she’s gone glassy-eyed at this point, and the briefest brush over the tadpole connection reveals that she’s almost as mad with lust as he is, all from pleasing him so thoroughly.

And just like that, he feels the rush of having the upper hand again. He kisses her hard, both hands on either side of her head, and backs her toward the bed. Though their bodies are crushed together, he manages to run his hands down to her leggings, shoving them roughly over her hips just before her knees hit the bed and she goes onto her back. She lifts her legs to help him get her bottoms all the way off and sits up on the edge of the mattress, legs spread and a triumphant smile on her face, chest heaving in anticipation.

Astarion bends at the waist with a fist pressed to either side of her thighs on the bed, leaning in as if for a kiss. When she tilts her face forward, he stops just short of her mouth.

Ori’s brow furrows the tiniest bit in confusion.

“Did you think you’d earned cock, just for that?” he whispers against her lips. “Silly thing.”

She gives a surprised huff of a laugh. “I… what?”

He reaches up a thumb to draw across her lower lip, watching as it goes. “You vastly underestimate the amount of bollock-ache you left me with today.”

“Astarion,” she sighs in frustration.

“What happens to brats, Ori?” he teases.

She squeezes her eyes shut and blows a curl out of her face. The intensity in her gaze when she opens them again is off the charts. “Brats have to beg,” she says.

“I’m listening,” he says with a smirk.

“Gods damn it,” she huffs, throwing her head back. She rights herself and says, “Touch me. Please. Now. Anything, just touch me, for fucksake, I’m losing my mind.”

He clicks his tongue. “Terrible. Let me help you find your focus.” With nimble fingers, he reaches down between her legs. “What was it you said? My touch.” He presses his finger lightly to the seam of her and strokes along it, enough to give her a shiver but nowhere near enough for relief. She twists her hips toward his hand with a whine, desperate for more, but he’s already gone.

“My mouth,” he adds, bending down and preening at the sound of her sucking in her breath as he places an open-mouthed kiss to her inner thigh before righting himself.

“Or my cock,” he finishes, tilting his head to look her in the face as he takes himself in his own hand.

She gives her head a little shake, not understanding.

He grins wide. “You only get one. Ask for it.”

“Cock,” she says immediately. “Cock, please.”

Astarion can’t help the laugh that spills out of him at her eagerness. He takes her by the waist and pulls her up, spinning her around and nudging her back onto the mattress on her hands and knees. A shudder flows down her back and she arches deep, ready to take him. The pearl of her arousal is so swollen at this point that he can see it peeking from between her folds. Everything between her legs is flushed and shining with want, begging to be touched.

His mouth waters and he swallows it back before coming in close to stand just behind her, taking his cock in hand and barely, barely running the head over her clit.

“Please,” Ori blurts, almost a sob, and this time it sounds genuine. “I need you so badly, sweetheart, please. Wanted your cock all day. Gods, I’ll be good, please fuck me, please.”

“That’s my girl,” he growls as he lines himself up and pushes inside all the way to the hilt.

Ori’s hands slide over the sheets and she deepens her arch even further, crying out her relief and pressing herself back against him as hard as she can, rocking. His mind blanks in pure bliss, eyes rolling, and his body takes over, fucking firmly into her with abandon.

“Gonna be so good,” Ori cries out as she meets him thrust for thrust, fists bunched. “So good for you, promise, I… please, yes.”

“Beautiful brat,” he pants, giving her an open-handed swat on the arse.

Ori yelps and fucks back harder, grinding her clit against him. “Hells, again.”

He swats again and she goes hot and fluttering around him.

“Astarion,” she cries. “Astarion, gods.”

She comes in a languid wave over the length of him and he grunts and curls his body over hers, knee on the mattress as he rides through it.

“Again,” he huffs. He angles his hips to hit her sensitive spot and she howls at the sensation.

“Fucking hells,” she groans. “I don’t…”

Astarion reaches up a hand to cup her chin and lift it so he can put his mouth against her ear. “Good girls come on my cock twice. Again.”

She sounds out the building pressure in bleating little sobs, tears of pleasure forming at the corners of her eyes as he rolls deep inside her, his own end spiraling closer with every passing second.

“Again,” he whispers. “Again.”

Her second orgasm hits twice as hard, a supernova burst that leaves her voiceless, mouth round in a silent scream. An entire day’s worth of tension releases at once, the rush of it dripping from her.

Astarion closes his eyes and lets her pull the pleasure from him. He comes so hard his ears ring from it, tipping gloriously over to the other side and filling her still further until the place where they meet is a complete mess.

He stands there a long moment, listing to one side with his chest heaving, one foot flat on the floor and the other leg bent at the knee on the mattress.

They teeter.

And fall onto the bed in a tangle.

A long moment later, Astarion groans and mumbles, “Hope you learned your lesson.”

“Gonna do it again,” Ori mumbles in response. “So much.”

He wheezes out a laugh.

[jesswritesthat]

Kirishima Eijirō: Oblivious

Fandom: BNHA // MHA — [Masterlist]

Summary: ~1k, fluff

• Kirishima is certain you’re just friends, but those closest to him have noticed something he may not have.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

Kirishima was a friendly guy, he seemed to endear people with his presence and his personality caused them to gravitate toward him. This was the person who’d lured Bakugō Katsuki into a true friendship after all, he wasn’t to be underestimated.

It appeared he’d unexpectedly won you over too, not that you minded considering he treated you like royalty as he did nearly everyone he deemed close companions.

Though everyone else could tell you were different to him. That you meant more. Except the only one who didn’t notice this phenomenon was Kirishima himself.

Yet it was etched into the way he’d seek you out, how he’d naturally migrate closer to you, and how he’d hope for your laugh first when he’d heard a joke.

Then there were the regularities where you’d expect his timely companionship at points during your friendship and this was one of them.

“Hey (Y/n), you got a minute?” He’d knocked on your door, but had obtained the habit of walking in anyway like he belonged there.

“What’s up Eijirō?”

“Can I borrow you to dye my hair again please? Roots are coming through.” A shark tooth grin was flashed your way, one hand running through his near crimson strands for added emphasis.

This had become a common ritual, you’d be so gentle with washing and dyeing his hair that he couldn’t help but melt into your delicate touch with the softest compliments spilling from his lips. Afterward, you’d eat dinner together (usually he would make it as a thank you) and watch a film in one of your respective dorm rooms. It was a friendly tradition that you’d started to look forward to.

Of course you hadn’t realised until it was disclosed to you but, he never did ask any of the others to assist with this. Sero and Mina had even made a point to personally offer only to be politely rejected - the pair of them sharing a knowing smirk when he’d slung an arm around your shoulders immediately after, asking if you’d do it.

Like the good friends they were, this obvious behaviour left them no choice but to outrightly question Kirishima about it. Except, they didn’t receive the answers they’d thought so clear before their planned ambush.

“Nah we’re just friends, you’re messing with me right?”

Kirishimas’ carefree laughter stumped them into silence, surely the guy had taken notice of his own feelings at the very least. He must’ve realised that how he acted around you was different to anyone else - y’know, since he’s blatantly attracted to you. At least that’s what they collectively thought.

“Friends? Kirishima, do you want us to repeat the question man?” Denki leaned forward incredulously from his place on the sofa, beside him, Sero and Mina also grew bewildered.

“I heard you fine, but I don’t see what you mean. I treat (Y/n) the same way I treat everyone else.”

"So you'd hug Bakugō too?" The pinkette proposed pointedly, hands outstretched like she’d caught him out.

"Sure, and I've tried but he has a habit of rejecting them."

Mina huffed, he'd got her there, no matter how close they were none could deny Bakugōs’ evident repulsion to physical contact, meaning Kirishima unfortunately won that dispute.

"Okay then, why don’t you let us dye your hair?” Denki chimed in this time, watching as Eijirō nonchalantly replied to yet another question whilst organising the dorm fridge like this meant nothing.

“(Y/n) knows what they’re doing since I’ve asked so many times before, I mean I have no issue if you wanna learn…”

“Lucky having someone comb their hands through your hair, ugh but fair point.” The electric user whined hopelessly, Kirishima offering an awkward smile in response.

“You’d do anything for (L/n) wouldn’t you?” Sero suspiciously posed this time wearing a scheming expression, now his turn in trying to seek their desired outcome.

“Yeah, within reason.”

“Heheh, gotcha!” Sero smugly claimed, proud grin upon his features that soon came tumbling down when his friend elaborated thoughtfully.

“I’d do the same for you guys, you’re my friends. Why do you think I hold Minas’ bags during her shopping sprees?”

Now the trio were forced into a heavy, depressing withdrawal, their armoury of justifiable evidence now painfully refuted with little debate - Denki deciding to openly voice their surrender.

“Alright you win dude, either you’re totally oblivious or we’re overthinking everyday.”

They simultaneously slumped in total defeat, the redhead giving them a curious look prior to heading back to his dorm room.

“Okay… well I’ll be in my room. If you need anything else let me know.”

A cluster of exasperated groans haunted his exit.

Only it wasn’t over yet, before he could even reach his destination, he was interrupted again by a source you wouldn’t expect to get involved in such ‘trivial crap’.

"Oi shitty hair."

"Huh? Hey Bakugō." It was incredibly unexpected, an arm slung around his neck with a forcible clap to his back that left even Kirishima uneasy.

"How'd that feel?" It was abruptly blunt, Katsuki usually is but it held a hint of knowing within his tone like he was trying to tell him something in his own disgruntled way.

"You just hugged— what's up with you?"

"Answer the damn question moron!" Katsuki shot back, Kirishima barely managing a flustered and awkward reply.

"Uh... weird. But I feel fine."

"Exactly." It was curt and aggressive, the blonde shoving his hands in his pockets and stalking off toward his dorm leaving Eijirō in utter confusion. Just enough to spark a particular thought process.

He'd hug his friends. But it didn't feel as comforting. He'd laugh with them too. But he always wanted to see your smile. He’d gladly help others. But he always felt like a hero when he got to help you.

“Oh crap.”

“Hey Eijirō, you okay?” Your warm voice instantly had an effect, one he was now acutely aware of, that left him fumbling for words.

“(Y— I uh— no! See ya!”

It seemed Bakugō had enlightened Kirishima like he’d originally intended after overhearing his friends’ stupid conversation (where they’d all failed by the way) but it left you with a whole new dilemma to deal with.

Why was Eijirou avoiding you all of a sudden?

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[inkmonster21]

Love me Forever

Continuation of Love me Tonight

Warning: SMUT

~o0o~

Wade walks you across the hall with a smile. “But it’s your birthday! I made a dick cake and everything.” You roll your eyes. “Please tell me you didn’t actually make a cake shaped like a dick.” Wade’s smile grows even wider. He opens the door ushering you in. “I also got you a present!”

And there HE stood.

Logan Howlett. The Wolverine.

Not yours of course, but a variant.

Your eyes lock with Logan’s. And you freeze. Laura jumps up and hugs you. “Surprise!” Logan says nothing as he watches you. He looks as grumpy as ever and you swear you almost hear him huff in annoyance.

You look to Wade, tears in your eyes. “Is this a fucking joke?” Wade’s cheerful expression quickly fades, realizing this present might not be going as well as he’d hoped. “Of course not. I thought you would be excited, I just wanted to give you something special-“

You quickly raise your hand and slip him across his burnt face. Wade stumbles back a few steps, clearly taken aback, rubbing his now reddening cheek. He had expected some surprise, maybe a gasp or a small scream, but not a slap. “What the hell was that for?!”

“You didn’t tell me you brought… him… back with you!” You berate him. How could Wade do this to you? Wade straightens up, regaining his composure. “I thought you’d be happy! I figured you’d jump into his arms, or something..” He glances over at Logan, who’s still silently watching you intently. “I didn’t think you’d slap me.” You storm out in a tearful rage.

Laura watches in confusion. She looks at Wade. “You didn’t tell her?” Wade shakes his head, wincing slightly at his sore cheek. “No… I thought it would be a nice surprise, y’know?” Laura sighs, looking at you with a sympathetic expression, her eyes darting over to Logan.

“Okay so this is bad,” Laura says. Logan’s expression remains stern, as always. He still hasn’t said a word, watching you with intense eyes, studying your every move. Wade rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, feeling the tension in the room. “What did you expect to happen?” Logan asks sipping at his drink.

Wade shrugs sheepishly as the awkwardness in the room increases. “I don’t know. I thought she’d be excited. Like a big fantasy or something.” He glances over at you and shrugs apologetically. Logan scoffs, “You’re a fucking idiot.”

Wade looks offended by Logan's bluntness. "Hey, I was just trying to give her something special! How was I supposed to know she'd react like this?" Laura rolls her eyes, “Because the last time she saw her Logan they fought and then he died! God, you idiot!”

Wade flushed red, embarrassed that he hadn't considered that. "Right... right..." He looks sheepishly at you, realizing now just how bad of an idea this is.

Despite Wade's multiple attempts to seek you out and apologize, you find ways to avoid him. Whether it's taking separate routes through the building or simply locking your door when he tries to let himself into your apartment.

Logan's mind was preoccupied nightly with the image of you flooding his thoughts. He saw the tears in your eyes, the hurt etched across your face. Guilt tugged at him as he replayed the memory of Wade's confrontational ambush. He knew Wade had acted foolishly and regretted the pain it caused you.

He ponders the conversations you have had with your Logan, the moments you’ve shared with the variant and the memories you’ve created together. His mind wonders about the intimate moments the two of you must’ve shared. A pang of longing mixed with curiosity fills his chest, the desire to know more about you growing with each passing second.

Logan shakes his head, trying to clear his mind of the intrusive thoughts. He takes a deep breath and tries to focus on something else, anything else, to distract himself from the intense curiosity and longing that threatens to consume him. He decides to refresh his drink, but his hopes are dashed as he finds that the fridge is empty, with no more beers in sight.

In a moment of resignation, Logan grabs his jacket and strides toward the door with determination. He knows exactly where he’s going – the gas station down the street, the only place around that's guaranteed to be open and stocked with beer. With a set jaw and purposeful stride, Logan steps out into the night, his mind filled with a mixture of resolve and anticipation as he sets off toward the convenience store.

You find yourself in the laundry room late at night, the soft hum of the washing machines the only sound in the otherwise quiet space. The pile of laundry in the basket feels insurmountable, and you realize you're behind on your laundry. You let out a sigh, the realization of the mountain of work ahead settling in as you approach the washing machine, the soft light of the room casting an eerie glow on the surroundings.

As Logan strides past the laundry room, he spots you, the unexpected sight causing him to pause in his tracks. Fate, God, coincidence – whatever the explanation, the timing feels almost preordained. Surprise flits across his features as he gazes at you, the image of you in the quiet laundromat at such a late hour taking him off guard.

Driven by an urge he can't quite explain, Logan quietly enters the laundry room. The soft sound of the door closing behind him echoes in the otherwise silent space, adding to the intimate atmosphere of the closed-off room.

The sound of the door opening behind you makes you look up from your task. It’s late at night, so you didn’t expect to see anyone here. Logan stands in the doorway, expression as grumpy as ever. He gives you a brief once over, taking in your laundry before leaning against the door frame.

Your hands automatically reach up to remove the headphones fully, and a simple, “Uh, hey” escapes your lips, your surprise echoing in the single word. Logan gives a gruff, almost imperceptible nod in response. He remains silent for a few moments, but his intense gaze never leaves your form. He tilts his head, taking in your expression, noting the subtle change in your body language. He studies you a bit more before speaking again. “You’ve been avoiding Wade. He keeps whining about it.”

A subtle eye-roll flickers across your features at his muttered complaint. You can feel your heart pounding a little faster, threatening to escape its confines. You force yourself to look away, the sight of him stirring up emotions you'd rather not acknowledge. "He'll just have to keep whining," you reply, your voice barely above a murmur, the words falling from your lips with a hint of sarcasm.

An amused smirk tugs at the corner of Logan’s mouth, a mixture of annoyance and wry humor evident in his expression. He pushes away from the door frame and saunters towards you, closing the gap between you with a few effortless strides. He stops a few feet away, eyes still locked on yours. There’s a hint of intrigue and curiosity in the way he gazes at you as if drawn to you against his will. With a raised eyebrow and a casual tone, he poses his question, "And why's that?"

Your gulp is barely noticeable, but it doesn't escape Logan's watchful gaze. You shake your head gently, your voice coming out as a soft murmur. "Like you don't know," you say, a hint of reluctant acknowledgment lacing your words.

Logan shrugs casually, his expression remaining neutral as he replies, his voice carrying a hint of indifference. “Wade didn't tell me much,” he says, his words a simple statement. The implication hangs between you, hinting at an untold story that Wade chose not to disclose. “Just the highlights.”

Logan's voice continues, his tone still casual as he mentions your relationship with 'your Logan'. "So you and your Logan," he repeats, a flicker of curiosity in his eyes. The words hang in the air, the mention of your connection to this other man, the other him, piquing his interest.

Your gaze slowly lifts to meet Logan's eyes, and you can't help but notice the similarities, the resemblance between him and 'your Logan'. There's a younger, more rugged edge to this Logan, but the familiar frown and the scent of cigars and alcohol are unmistakable. Surprisingly, instead of distaste, there's a hint of comfort in these reminders, a familiarity in the differences.

"It was dysfunctional," you admit, your tone laced with a bittersweet mixture of resignation and affection. "But I loved him." The words linger in the air, each syllable a confession of a complex and messy relationship, filled with both pain and undeniable love.

A pang of jealousy flares within Logan, a sharp twinge of envy for the late Logan and the connection you two shared. His chest tightens at the knowledge that you had endured hurt and disappointment at the hands of another man, another him, yet you remained fiercely loyal.

The question leaves your lips, curiosity, and a hint of hope coloring the words. "Did you have a me? In your universe?" The thought has been at the back of your mind, the possibility lingering like an unasked question.

The softness in Logan's gaze is brief, but it doesn't escape your notice. As he shakes his head, replying with a quiet "No," a hint of what might have been, a glimpse of loss or regret, flickers across his sharp features. "He was lucky," he adds, a touch of resignation in his words, an admission that your absence in his universe is both a lack and a blessing.

The implications of Logan's response hang in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the dark possibilities in his reality. If he had a version of you, given the dangerous world he inhabited, chances were high that you wouldn't be alive or would harbor deep resentment towards him.

Your eyes avert from his gaze, unable to bear the mixture of emotions swirling within you. It's a jarring reminder that he's not your Logan. The pain of loss coupled with the presence of a man who resembles him so closely creates a maelstrom of feelings you can barely contain.

With a small, somewhat forced smile, you gather your laundry and hoist the basket into your arms. The need to escape the tense atmosphere and conflicting emotions prompts you to take a step back. "see you around," you murmur, the words carrying a hint of resignation.

The air between you is thick with unspoken words and conflicting emotions. Logan's expression remains stoic, his usual frown still intact, but his eyes betray a maelstrom of thoughts and feelings he can't quite articulate. He watches as you turn to leave, the laundry basket clutched in your arms. “Hope so.”

Wade slams his head against your door, his voice rising in a whiny, insistent tone as he loudly calls out your name, desperation evident in his words. However, all his efforts are futile, as you’re not home to hear or respond to his desperate pleas.

You spot Wade propped up against your door, his presence causing you to roll your eyes and let out a small sigh. "What are you doing, Wade?" you ask, a mixture of annoyance and resignation in your voice as you approach.

Wade’s head whips around to face you as you approach, his expression a mix of surprise and relief. He pushes himself away from the door, standing up straight and giving you an awkward smile. “Hey, there you are,” he says, his voice still carrying a hint of the whiny tone he had just moments ago.

Wade’s expression softens, and his voice takes on a more contrite tone as he apologizes. “I’m sorry,” he says, his words sounding sincere. “Can we talk?” You let out a sigh, the exhaustion from the events of the past few days weighing on you. "Can we just forget the whole thing?" you ask, a hint of weariness in your voice. Your hand twists the key in the lock, the tumbler clicking as the door unlocks.

Wade nods sheepishly, his initial excitement and hope dimmed by your firm rejection. "I’m over it," you say, your tone unequivocal, leaving no room for argument. "I get your heart was in the right place," you add, acknowledging his good intentions, "but it’s not going to happen."

Wade’s face falls slightly, the reality of your words sinking in. He rubs the back of his neck, a mixture of chagrin and disappointment etched on his features. "So this is it?" he asks, his voice tinged with resignation. “Mom and Dad are just going to live on opposite sides of the hall? Which weekends do you have me?”

Wade’s attempt at humor falls flat as you level a warning glare at him. He swallows the words that are about to escape his lips, sensing that you're not in the mood for jokes. “Wade,” you say firmly, “stop.”

Wade’s eyes widen in surprise, and his voice carries a hint of disbelief. "So you’re just going to act like he doesn’t exist?" he repeats, clearly struggling to comprehend your stance. You offer a nonchalant shrug, a hint of resignation in your gesture. "What's the difference between that and what I've been doing for years?" you reply bluntly. The statement hangs in the air, carrying the weight of all the years where you’ve effectively lived your life without the Wolverine’s existence.

You decide not to engage in further discussions or confrontations. Instead, you make a conscious decision to distance yourself from the source of your pain. With a firm resolve, you inform Wade that from now on, the movie nights would have to take place in your apartment, and you would not step foot in his again. Despite the strain in your relationship, you find solace in the familiar routine of your karaoke nights together.

In your daily routine, you occasionally cross paths with Logan, offering a polite, friendly greeting each time. But you never go beyond surface-level pleasantries, not allowing yourself to get close or engage in anything beyond a short exchange. Despite the casual veneer, there’s an underlying tension hanging in the air, a silent, unspoken understanding between you that keeps your interactions brief and fleeting.

Wade lets out a hearty laugh as he closes the door, a sense of lightheartedness in his tone. He quickly peels off his pick glasses and matching feathered robe, discarding them on the floor with a carefree gesture. Wade struts into the kitchen, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes and a wide smile on his face. “What. A. NIGHT!” he crows, his voice filled with exhilaration and amusement. He makes a beeline for the refrigerator, clearly on a mission to satisfy his appetite.

You follow in Wade’s wake, your movements a little unsteady from the evening’s indulgences. A wide grin spreads across your face as you laugh softly, your carefree demeanor matching Wade’s exuberant mood.

Logan reclines in the bed, relishing the comfort and space it provides, a stark contrast to the cramped sofa he's been using. He can't deny that the proximity to your apartment is both a curse and a comfort. The sounds of your movements and mutterings occasionally drifted into his ears, reminding him of your presence just beyond the thin walls.

You glance around the apartment, a sense of caution and wariness in your eyes. You scan each corner diligently, double-checking that Logan is nowhere to be found.

Wade watches your anxious movements with amusement, the sight of your constant checking drawing a knowing smirk from him. "Calm down, would you?" he chuckles, his voice filled with a mixture of reassurance and wry humor. "I don’t think he’s even here,” he asserts, echoing your internal suspicions.

You turn to Wade, your expression still a swirl of irritation. “I just can’t be around him.” Wade looks at you with slight concern, sensing the depth of your feelings. "Why do you hate him so much?" You roll your eyes. “I don’t hate him. Not at all.” Far from it.

Wade raises an eyebrow curiously. "Then why are you avoiding him like he's the plague?" “Because… he’s not him. It’s a completely different Logan, and he’s not mine.” Wade frowns, understanding dawning on his features. "I see... So, it's not really about him, it's about what he represents, right? This different Logan, he reminds you of what you've lost, doesn’t he?” “Everything on that man is the same as my Logan.” Wade nods thoughtfully. "He's still a different Logan at the core, right? His past, his memories, his experiences. All are probably vastly different from your Logan."

You let out a frustrated huff, the memory of the laundry room incident replaying incessantly in your mind. It’s a constant loop, each time filling you with the same mix of conflicting emotions. Frustration, confusion, sadness, anger, and a strange, inexplicable longing.

The constant presence of his very essence, his reminders, the memory of his eyes, and his voice, it's all too much to bear. The question fills you with an equal amount of irritation and desire.

Fate, in its twisted and perverse way, always seems to find a way to disrupt the peace of your life. It’s an unsettling thought, the notion that there is some invisible force at play, guiding your steps towards unexpected and often unwelcome events. The very thought sends a shiver down your spine as if a dark cloud was hovering over you, ready to burst at any moment.

You are abruptly interrupted by three hard knocks on your door, the sound cutting through the room like a blade. The unexpected interruption sends a jolt of surprise through you, causing you to jump slightly.

As you swing open the door, your expression is a mixture of surprise and annoyance at the unexpected visitor. Standing outside your door is Logan, his presence unannounced and utterly unexpected. Your eyes narrow suspiciously, your brow furrowing as you take in his unexpected appearance.

“Hey…” Logan's greeting hangs in the air, a subtle but loaded word charged with a multitude of unspoken meanings. His single syllable pierces through the silence, his voice low and gravelly, a stark contrast to the casual familiarity that had once existed between them. The tension between you is palpable, the briefness of his greeting only serving to heighten the underlying discomfort.

You respond with a simple "Hi," an undertone of confusion seeping into your voice. The casualness of your reply doesn’t fully mask the underlying surprise and wariness you feel at his unexpected presence. Your eyes search his face, trying to gauge his reasons for coming to your door, but his stoic expression gives nothing away.

Logan’s piercing gaze meets yours, studying your reaction like he’s trying to discern something from your expression. He leans casually against the doorframe, his body language relaxed yet the intensity in his eyes betrays his inner thoughts. “You don’t happen to have a key to Wade’s apartment, do you?”

You ponder for a second before shaking your head. “Kept telling him to give me one, but he claims there would never be a situation dire enough to grant me a key to his evil lair. His words.” Logan nods, a hint of irritation crossing his features at the mention of Wade. "Yeah, that sounds like his dumbass," he mutters under his breath.

In a surprise offer, and against your better judgment, you find yourself opening the door wider, a silent invitation passing between you. The words escape your lips before you can think them through. "Do you want to come in and wait for him?" Logan stands there, stoic and unreadable, his expression betraying nothing of his thoughts. It's a risky move, but somehow, it feels right.

“Sure. Better than the hallway.” Logan steps inside your apartment, his broad shoulders nearly filling the doorway as he brushes past you. He glances around the room, taking in the familiar surroundings, the unfamiliar feeling of comfort enveloping him.

The air in the room is thick with unspoken tension as Logan surveys your apartment. He moves further into the living space, his steps measured as he takes in the details of your home. Some of Laura’s belongings were scattered around. His eyes stop on a small photo. He picked up a framed photo of you and your Logan, his gaze lingering on it for a moment before setting it down gingerly.

Logan glances over at you, an eyebrow raised in mild surprise at your observations. He takes a seat in one of the armchairs, his large frame seeming out of place in the small, feminine living room. “good looking guy.”

“I think you’re younger than he was.” You say as you sit back down on your couch. The sadness in your voice doesn’t go unnoticed by Logan, his eyes flickering over to you as you sit on the couch. He says nothing, his gaze steady. The room is filled with a heavy silence for several moments, only broken by the faint sounds of the city outside.

"Listen," you begin, your voice firm and resolute, "I know this is weird. I have a lot of memories with my Logan and then you show up and Wade tries to play Cupid, and he just manages to mess up everybody’s life. Anyway, what I’m trying to get to is… I don’t expect anything from you. You know? You’re not him, and it's not your responsibility to pick up the pieces." Your words escape your lips in a heartfelt spill, filled with a mixture of resolve and vulnerability.

There's a slight edge of irritation in his voice as he speaks, a hint of jealousy peeking through his usual stoicism. He shifts in the armchair, his gaze never leaving yours, his intense eyes studying you intently.

"I know I’m not him," he repeats, his words punctuated with a hint of bitterness. "But is it wrong… if I want to be?" Logan’s words hang in the air, the weight of his admission palpable in the room. He stares at you, his guard down for a brief moment, revealing a vulnerability few people ever saw. He suddenly realizes what he's said, and his expression quickly hardens again, the tough exterior he's built up over the years returning.

Logan leans back in the armchair, his muscles tensing as he considers your question. He looks away, his gaze focused on the wall opposite him. For a few moments, he doesn’t respond, his jaw clenched as if struggling to find the right words. Finally, he speaks, his voice gravelly and low. “I see the pain in your eyes. The way you look at me, the way you avoid me. I don’t want to be the constant reminder of what you’ve lost.”

He wanted to be a reminder of what you had gained – the opportunity for love a second time around. It was a powerful reminder of the significance he held in your life, the second chance at happiness you had been given. The complexity of emotions swirling within you was palpable – gratitude, sadness, hope, and bittersweet nostalgia.

The room seems to shrink, the air suddenly feeling thicker as Logan meets your gaze. The intensity in his eyes is matched by the passion brewing inside you, a burning desire that you can't quite explain. You miss the scent of him, the way he held you, the way his skin felt against yours.

He seems to see this in your expression, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows hard, a mixture of understanding and restraint behind his eyes. “Then what do you want to be, Logan?”

Logan hesitates, the words he wants to say caught in his throat. He stands up, closing the gap between you in a few swift strides. He towers over you, his body casting a shadow over your seated form. He leans down, his eyes never leaving yours, searching for something.

“I don’t want to be a reminder,” he mutters, his voice a low rumble. “I want to be something more.” The tension in the air is thick as you look up at him, your heart pounding against your chest. He’s so close, the heat of his body radiating through the thin material of his clothes. You can smell the familiar scent of leather, mixed with something uniquely Logan.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, a gentle touch that sends shivers down your spine. “I want to pick up the pieces.”

Just as you're about to give in, the sound of Wade's apartment door slamming shut jolts you back to the present. The moment of vulnerability passes, and you take a step back, your emotions overflowing. "Wade’s back," you murmur, the words tinged with both relief and resignation. "You...you should go," you repeat, your voice firmer now. The finality in your tone leaves no room for argument.

He looks down at you for a brief moment, as if he wants to say more, but then he sighs and takes a step back. “Right,” he mutters, his voice hoarse and rough. He starts towards the door, pausing just before he exits, his hand on the handle. He looks back at you one last time, a mix of regret and frustration in his eyes, before disappearing out into the hall.

You toss yourself onto the couch, letting out a frustrated groan. You can’t believe you nearly did that – opening yourself up to more hurt and suffering. A wave of self-consciousness washes over you as you berate yourself for coming so close to making a mistake. "What an idiot," you mutter under your breath, shaking your head in disbelief at your momentary weakness.

Logan couldn’t shake thoughts of you from his mind – he was consumed by your memory, preoccupied with you for every single hour. He couldn't help but feel envious of your late Logan, frustrated that he wasn’t good enough, wasn’t enough to capture your heart. He couldn't understand why you’d willingly choose to stay single instead of considering another chance with the love of your life, a chance that he believed was being thrown away so carelessly.

It was another late night for laundry, and there you were, perched on top of the dryer, the hum of the machine beneath you providing a soothing backdrop as you absentmindedly scrolled through your phone. The sound of the door opening breaks the quiet monotony, causing you to look up from your phone with curiosity.

You look up to see Logan leaning against the doorway, a smirk on his face at the sight of you. You raise an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in your voice as you ask, "This going to become a habit of yours?" implying that this late-night laundry with the surprise drop-by visit was becoming a recurring event.

Logan chuckles at your question, a charming smile playing on his lips. He steps further into the room, his body moving with a grace that suggests he doesn’t take up space, he claims it. He leans against the laundry machine next to you, his presence now closer, a comfortable proximity.

The confidence is evident in his demeanor, his movements fluid and self-assured – a few heavy drinks in, his inhibitions, perhaps, lowered just enough to cast aside any concerns about the potential consequences. He leans nonchalantly against the laundry machine, his eyes fixed on you, his gaze steady and unwavering.

"Never was good enough," Logan begins, his voice tinged with a hint of bitterness. "At anything I did." He pauses, his words hanging heavy in the air before continuing. "Not even good enough for you, " he adds, a hint of hurt in his voice. "Even when all you've wanted is in front of you. You still don't want me." The pain of rejection is apparent in his words as if the reality of your lack of desire for him has become a constant source of self-doubt.

You can't believe what you're hearing. "Where the hell are you getting all that?” you reply, your words laced with a mixture of disbelief and anger. Your words cut through the air, sharp and impassioned. "Don’t you dare try to understand," you continue, your voice filled with a mix of anger and desperation. "You have no idea what I want. Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to live here with you? You’re every bit as enticing as him, if not more, and it’s driving me insane." Each word is a revelation, a raw expression of the desire that burns within you, the desire you've been trying to suppress.

Your words hang in the air for a moment, the raw emotion behind them echoing in the small laundry room. You continue, your voice cracking slightly with the weight of your confession, "You have no clue how much I want you, how I crave to feel you. It's a constant battle, trying to resist the pull you have on me, just like he did, and it's driving me to madness."

In a split second, Logan closes the gap between you, his hand grabbing the back of your neck with a possessive firmness, pulling you down towards him. His lips meet yours, the kiss is hard and hungry, a raw expression of the desire he’s been bottling up. You’re still perched on top of the dryer, the unexpected move catching you off guard. The kiss deepens, his hands gripping your hips, pulling your body closer to him. The room fills with the sounds of your harsh breaths and the rustle of cloth. Despite the shock, you find yourself responding, your lips moving against his in a desperate dance of want and need.

With a mix of finesse and fervor, Logan's rough hands explore the expanse of your thighs, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. They continue their journey upward, tracing the lines of your waist, his fingers slightly digging into your flesh, leaving no doubt about the intensity of his need.

He breaks the kiss, his lips trailing a path down your neck, his hot breath sending shivers down your spine. He plants gentle nips and kisses along your sensitive skin, each touching a brand that leaves you craving more of his touch.

The moment is charged with intense hunger as you run your hands along his frame, seeking to free him from the confines of his clothing. Your touch is frantic and impatient, a reflection of the burning desire that is now consuming you both.

There's no turning back now, you're both already too far gone, lost in the whirlwind of desire and need. You might as well give yourselves over completely, and dive into the depths of these overwhelming emotions together.

You run a hand to his jeans, palming his hardening length. He pulls away and watches as you start unbuttoning his jeans, your movements deliberate and confident.

He watches, transfixed, as you free his thick, throbbing cock from its confines. It stands proudly, already glistening with pre-cum. Logan groans as you pump his length just a few times before sinking to your knees.

Taking his length into your mouth, you feel its warmth and taste the salty pre-cum. You moan around his shaft, sending vibrations through him, and he groans in response. Your hands cup his heavy balls, gently massaging them as you take him deeper, your throat welcoming his girth.

Logan's hands tangle in your hair, guiding your pace as he thrusts into your mouth. "That's it, baby," he grunts, his hips moving in rhythm with your sucking. "You've got a talent for this."

You feel his fingers tighten in your hair, and he pulls you off his cock with a wet pop. "Fuck, that's so good, but I want more," he says, his voice thick with lust. He pulls you up, pressing you against the cold metal of a washing machine, the hard surface biting into your skin.

His strong hands grasp your hips, lifting you to sit on the dryer again, and you instinctively wrap your legs around his waist, locking your ankles behind his back. Logan pulls your shorts to the side, pleasantly surprised you’re not wearing panties.

Logan's cock hovers at your entrance, teasing you, as he grinds his hips, rubbing his length against your wet pussy. "Please..." you beg, your voice breathless. "Logan, I need you inside me."

"Oh, you'll get what you need," he promises, his voice dark and rough. With one swift thrust, he impales you on his cock, filling you. You gasp at the sudden invasion, your body stretching to accommodate his size.

Logan begins to move, his powerful thrusts driving into you with relentless force. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the laundry room, mingling with your moans and his grunts. He fucks you hard, his hips slamming against yous, driving his cock deep within you.

Your hands grip the edges of the dryer, knuckles turning white as you try to withstand the intensity of his pounding. "Fuck, Logan!" you cry out, your body trembling on the verge of orgasm.

"That's it, cum for me," he urges, his voice strained. "Let go, baby." His words push you over the edge, and you cry out as your orgasm rips through you. Your pussy clenches around his shaft, milking him as waves of pleasure wash over you. Logan grunts, his body tensing as he spills his hot seed deep inside you, filling you with his cum.

You both remain frozen, breathless, for a moment, before he gently lowers you to the ground. Your legs feel weak as you stand, leaning against the washing machine for support.

Logan’s smirk is a reflection of his satisfaction, a confident expression that speaks volumes about his pent-up desire. "I’ve been wanting to do that for a while," he admits, the truth finally spilling from his lips. You shake your head in agreement, a soft smile playing on your lips. "I think we both needed that," you reply, a sigh escaping your lips as you adjust your disheveled attire.

Logan’s touch is tender and caring as he brushes your cheeks with his thumbs, his gaze fixed on your face with an intensity that makes your breath catch in your throat. His eyes search yours, attempting to read the conflicting emotions swirling within you.

Logan’s voice is low and sincere as he utters his words, his eyes fixed on yours. "I meant what I said,” he repeats, his tone firm and resolute. “I want to pick up the pieces. I want to be here for you, be what he wasn’t."

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you return his gaze, his words hanging in the air between you. You move closer, pressing a soft kiss to his lips once more before whispering against his skin, "You’re going to need a lot of glue for this broken heart, Howlett." The teasing tone was laced with a hint of vulnerability, a subtle invitation to mend the pieces back together.

Yes, he wasn't your first Logan, but he was damn well going to make sure he was your last. He held your face in his hands, his gaze unwavering, his voice tinged with a mix of determination and promise as he reiterated his words. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here.”

[baigepueckers]

Nika Mühl X Reader

Part 1

Road to Recovery Part 2

Mornings ever since Nika’s injury were a mix of accomplishment and aggravation. Helping her out of bed had become part of your routine, carefully guiding her legs over the edge and supporting her as she carefully tried to stand. Some days she managed it with a shaky smile. Other days her jaw would clench as pain rippled through her leg, and you could see the frustration cloud her eyes.

One morning (after an especially restless night where she had struggled to find a comfortable position) you helped her ease herself up. Her face was drawn, her shoulders tense with hardly contained frustration.

“I hate needing this much help” she muttered the words slipping out before she could stop herself. She looked away, her jaw tight. “I hate relying on you for everything. I should be the one taking care of us.”

You moved closer gently brushing a stray strand of hair from her face, your hand lingering as you offered a soft smile. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, honey. You’re doing everything you can and I’m here because I want to be, because I love you.”

She took a deep breath, nodding, and allowed herself to lean into your embrace. “I know… it’s just… I feel like I’ve lost so much of myself. I’m supposed to be strong and right now, I feel anything but.”

You cupped her face your thumbs brushing away the beginning of frustrated tears. “Strength isn’t about doing everything on your own. It’s about pushing through, even when you feel like giving up. And no matter what you’re still my Nika, nothing can take that from you.”

Her lips curved in a small almost shy smile as she looked down. “How do you always know what to say?”

“Because I know you baby” you whispered, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “And because I believe in you, even when you don’t.”

Each day was a new challenge and physical therapy became both her outlet and her battleground. At the start she struggled with the simplest exercises, her body protesting with each stretch and movement. You sat by her side for every session, watching her grit her teeth through the pain while you whispered words of encouragement as she forced her body to respond.

“You’re doing amazing” you’d tell her after each grueling set, your voice filled with admiration and pride.

Some days she’d respond with a grateful smile, and a soft “I love you”.But other days the frustration was too overwhelming. She’d stare down at her leg, her brow furrowing as she whispered “I don’t feel amazing. I feel… broken.”

You’d reach for her hand intertwining your fingers, grounding her. “You’re not broken, Nik. You’re healing..and that’s not something everyone can do, It takes strength and patience.”

On the particularly hard days after therapy, you’d sit with her on the couch, her head resting against your shoulder as she let herself break down. Her tears were quiet, her frustration on fire as she clung to you, seeking comfort in your presence. You held her close rubbing soothing circles along her back, whispering gentle reassurances until the tension melted away.

“Thank you for putting up with me” she’d murmur, her voice thick with emotion. “I don’t know what I’d do without my girl.”

“You’ll always have me baby” you’d reply softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “I’m with you.”

Slowly the small victories began to pile up. She could make it to the kitchen on her own, her steps tentative but determined. You started noticing a shift in her demeanor a renewed confidence, a flicker of pride in her eyes as she navigated daily tasks with more ease. One evening she surprised you by cooking dinner, a simple meal, but the sight of her moving around the kitchen brought a huge smile to your face.

“Look at you, chef!” you teased, leaning against the counter as you watched her stir a pot on the stove.

She chuckled a playful glint in her eye. “Don’t get too excited, dijete. I only managed to make pasta, but hey it’s progress.”

“It’s more than progress.” you replied wrapping your arms around her from behind, resting your chin on her shoulder. “It’s a reminder of just how unstoppable you are.”

She turned in your arms, her hands finding their way to your waist as she pulled you closer. Her eyes softened, a hint of vulnerability slipping through. “I feel like I’m finally getting a piece of myself back…nd I owe so much of that to you.”

You kissed her softly your fingers tracing gentle patterns along her spine. “I didn’t do anything. This is all you, sweet girl.”

Later that evening as you sat together in bed, she leaned into you, resting her head on your shoulder. Her fingers absentmindedly traced circles along your arm a familiar warmth in her touch. Slowly she turned her face toward yours, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that left your heart racing.

Without a word she leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was both tender and filled with a quiet hunger. Her hand slipped around your neck pulling you closer, her lips moving against yours with a need that was undeniable. You felt her hand drift lower, fingers tracing along your waist as she deepened the kiss.

You pulled back slightly, breathless, a soft smile playing at your lips. “Nika… are you sure?”

Her hands continued to roam, her touch growing bolder as her fingers trailed along your sides. She leaned in, her lips brushing against your lips “I need you so bad, moje dijete.”

You hesitated, a pang of worry flashing across your face. “Baby, I don’t want to hurt you…”

She shook her head, her hand gently cupping your face. “You won’t. I can handle this…I need to feel like myself again. I need you.”

Her words melted away your hesitation, and you leaned in, capturing her lips in a kiss that was both careful and intimate. Every touch was slow, each movement filled with tenderness as you navigated the delicate balance between passion and caution. Being mindful of her body’s limits while allowing yourselves to reconnect in a way that felt healing for both of you.

As the night went on you stayed close, whispering sweet words and promises of the future, your hands never straying far from hers.

The days that followed were filled with renewed determination. Nika threw herself into physical therapy with an intensity that even surprised you. Her focus was fierce, and the fire in her eyes grew stronger each day. You were by her side through every milestone, celebrating each small victory, reminding her of just how far she had come.

[saturnmosaic]

succulent berries nestled in the yard.

pairing : ellie williams x female reader

synopsis : ellie, your wife, gives your cat away, out of envy or circumstance, you can't tell. leaving behind the past, you and your wife move into a new home. but with a relationship on the brink of ravage, the house seems to harbor sinister forces. and with the insatiable hunger for berries you discovered in the yard, things crumble rather fast.

warnings : pussy eating, mentions of miscarriage, animal deaths, blood, cannibalistic yearning, figures/ creatures sorta?? haunted house.

wc : 1.8k

a/n : um yeah...it's kinda bad and not executed well but i wrote this during the week of my exams, can you blame me? also i got kinda lazy during sum bits sooo

betrayal lingers in the car, stirring amidst the crisp air of the AC. the tapping of the rain against the mist covered windows, like the rhythmic pumping of your ruptured heart, does no good to the gnawing feeling inside you. how could she have given away your blythe. the tiny creature always so nimble on her feet at the call of her name, so fond of seeking slumber on your lap.

you’d found her on a similar day like this— grey hues enveloping the sky, water droplets crashing the tender and moist earth with all their might, and the rumbling of thunder in the distance. amidst all that chaos, her meek meow had stood out. her black fur was sleek with the heavy rain, and her belly was smeared plum dark.

you’d taken her home on an impulse. time and medical care healed her. and she had healed you. a lovely year spent with her, reminiscent of a lilac bloom in the summer. but now she was gone, taken away from you by your own wife. your own wife! a blasphemy.

"are you still mad at me? we had no other choice." aventurine eyes dart away from the distorted road to get a glimpse of you. your eyes still bleary and bloodshot, hair ever so tousled, and the silk of your dress embracing your petal-like skin. a bittersweet sight.

"don't say we." not even a glance spared her way, the face you’d seek for in every room you entered, now a face foreign and surreal.

"oh come on, she was sick anyway. it was only a matter of days before she died!" her temper, planted in her like a tempting hydrangea, speaks before her rationale can articulate words, knuckles gripping the charcoal leather of the driving wheel.

"she was not sick."

she sighs, the guilt of her deed looming over her like a sickly, withered willow. “baby, we both know she was and i’m really sorry but we can’t do anything about it. we’re moving to a new town, a new house. bringing her with us would be..a burden. besides i’d rather you not witness her death, i don’t wanna see you suffer like that.”

“i’m already suffering, aren’t i?”

“well, what the fuck do you want me to do, huh? i’m just trying to do what’s right. a-and it’s like i’m always second to that cat!”

the confession, lays bare like an ornate scroll, and makes you ponder if envy was the cause of it. but was what she said entirely fallacious? maybe you had been giving blythe more attention that she’d felt frivolous in your eyes.

“just- i’m sorry, okay? but i promise jesse will take good care of her.”

silence ensues, and soon the quaint house surfaces into your eyesight. the rain and dusk obscured it's intricacy but from what you could make out, it was painted in warm whites and browns, with ivy weaving up the sides and windows curtained in white lace.

…

a house is a body, your mom used to tell you. a haven meant to be worshipped in return for solace and warmth. this house became your body. its walls were alive in the daylight, screeching and beckoning for something while ellie was at work. it fed on your sorrow and resentment like a famished beast, stripping them away to procure life. your heart was indented in these walls.

the house would foist bad omens on whoever visited. aunt daphne had a miscarriage, the frail thing of a baby was bled out on the black and white tiles of your bathroom. it stirred memories of your own miscarriage, and ellie thought that was the reason you leaned so heavily on blythe, loving her as though she were your own child. when uncle luke visited, his golden retriever was found dead in the yard, leaves sitting idly on its fur like an atonement.

ellie wasn't one to believe in curses or anything remotely superficial, but she'd felt something innately sinister residing in the hollow of the house. she wanted to move, but moving away meant leaving behind your body, so you stayed, which compelled her to stay rooted to the house too.

…

on a sunny morning, beads of sweat kissing your skin, damp hair heavy under the sun’s gaze, you’d been lead to the brambles in the yard by the house itself. the raspberries were glistening and plump with saccharine juice.

they might’ve been tainted with fox piss, so you gather them in a dainty basket and slip back into the confines of your home to wash them. the water from the tap cascades down onto the fruits in your hand, ridding them of the insect debris and other dirt.

a tatted arm snakes its way around your waist and a head heavy with sleep rests on your shoulder. it had almost slipped out of your mind that it was a weekend.

ellie's other arm reaches out to turn the tap off and put the dampened raspberries away from your hand. without warning, pearly whites bite down on your neck and her tongue flicks out to languidly soothe the bruised splotch.

a carnal desire courses through your veins. ever since you moved here, and ever since blythe was no longer in your gentle arms, words barely existed anymore. and sometimes silence felt like a human presence, mocking the insubstantial souls around it. without words, sex was your salvation.

she turns you around to hoist you up on the counter, shadows smudged under her eyes. she'd come back from work late last night, you figure.

her calloused hands are on your thighs, pushing them apart with a fervor. a similar fervor that'd paint itself on her whenever you showed her a hint of normalcy. your hands still in her tousled hair, as the velvety pads of her fingertips tug your underwear off.

her knees hit the marble tiles, warmed by the sunlight streaming in through the kitchen windows, as she lifts the fabric of your dress up, a gentle rustle against the morning ambience, revealing your slick folds.

her tongue teases your weeping cunt, one hand clutching the dress up and the other resting on your thigh. you whimper in desperation, pushing her head further.

“ellie..”

she pats your thigh in response, fucking you with her warm muscle, feeling your insides devour it with a hanker. noises flow out of your mouth as smoothly as the tranquil descent of a waterfall, as your fingers dig into her scalp.

a sultry moan muffles into your hole, and she pulls back, the taste of you lingering on her tongue.

“what the fuck? why’d you-” your whine is silenced by the solace of her lips. her tongue slides into your mouth and presses against your own, slick and insistent. your own taste dissolves into your mouth, mending with your saliva.

you bite the soft pillow of her lower lip, drawing crimson liquid and earning a throaty noise from her. somewhere between a moan and a grunt.

“babe..” she lowers her gaze in an attempt to catch sight of the fresh blood. before she can wipe it away with the pad of her thumb, you lick the red off her pillowy cushion of flesh.

the taste is seraphic as it sits on your taste buds, a pure bliss, like thyme on a wound. the sensation of her tongue back inside your clenching walls heightened this feeling, if not subdued it wholly. but the taste still lingered.

her fingers soothe your swollen clit, circling around it as if afraid it’ll be seized from her grasp someday.

she laps at every drop of juice that manifests, like she’d done to your tears, as a fatuous inside joke, a long while ago. so long, she can’t remember if it was a hazy dream.

“fuck. i’m so close.”

her mouth pulls away when you reach your pleasant climax, her fingers still on your clit, helping you through your high. your hands go limp in her hair, and she languidly wipes the glistening slick from her mouth and chin with the back of the hand that releases your bunched dress.

...

the berries stay forgotten until the next morning, when it’s delicacy is withered and rotten away under the exposure to air and temperature. you throw the shrivelled fruits away and pick several more.

the new ripe ones sit snug in a ceramic bowl, alluring and tender. you feast on ten, eleven, twelve, and then the count numbs in your brain. the fluid so grossly alike to ellie’s blood, makes you delirious. it’s utterly enthralling, the juice dripping down your chin, its sticky residue settling on your skin. your teeth and lips and hands stained in a crimson hue, a crimson hue reminiscent of ellie’s blood. ellie’s blood. they chant themselves on the tip of your tongue.

spindled figures, engraved on the floors, long limbs and pulsing eyes, they seem to close in on you. the bowl is emptied, raspberries already in the pit of your stomach. the yearning grows in agony, an animalistic desire surging through the ivory of your bones.

you feel light like you’re meandering through the air, though you can feel the faces of the figures underneath your feet, something metallic making its home in your hand.

you blink and you're standing in your bedroom, ellie coddling her apatosaurus plushie, as her eyes stay fluttered. a vulnerability so immensely coating the room. the knife glides down her supple skin, the smell of meat stirring your senses. was her heart the sweetest part of her body?

"what the fuck are you doing?" her raspy voice cuts through your trance and suddenly the object in your hand feels foreign. with a sharp yank to your arm, the metal clanks on the marble floor.

"what is wrong with you?" ellie's gripping your arms, her face contorted with disbelief, shock and wrath.

"n-nothing." but something is. you both know. tears gush through your eyes, the salty pearls melding with the sweet smear of berries on your skin.

"god, it's this fucking house! we should've moved. fuck!" her grasp on your arms are gone, her hands fumbling for her phone. frustration envelopes her like a smothering blanket as she talks to demolition contractors.

your pleas fall on deaf ear, your mere presence as measly as a lamb. you let yourself be escorted out of the house, eyes sodden, red flickering in them, as you watch- watch the house your body collapse to the ground.

the berries come retching out of your mouth, along with a hideous flow of blood. the walls crumble and the world around you dances like an uncanny painting. sirens wail in the distance and layers of black pierce through your eyes, shutting them for slumber.

[melzula]

Smoke and Shadow

part two

pairing: Zuko x Princess!reader

notes: final part is here! hope you guys enjoy and thank you for being patient as always

summary: the group is one step closer to finding the missing children and Azula, but that doesn’t mean all of their problems will be solved

~ part of the fire lilies series ~

“We decided to do some investigating after Zuko kicked Aang out of the throne room,” Suki explains to you as your trio runs after the Avatar and Fire Lord. “We wanted to see if there were any clues left behind from Kiyi’s kidnapping or Azula’s Kemurikage attack on the palace last night.”

“And even though we couldn’t find anything, I realized there was something fishy about the way she was able to escape so quickly!” Ty Lee adds with a keen smile. “When we used to play hide-and-seek as kids, she’d always manage to win by hiding in this secret passage way tucked into the palace walls. It must be how the Kemurikage were able to escape so quickly.”

“Good thinking, Ty Lee. Although, I still can’t believe she kidnapped her own sister,” you note with a disgruntled shake of your head. “That’s low even for her.”

“This is Azula we’re talking about,” Suki reminds you, and that in itself is enough of an explanation for her behavior.

You finally skid to a stop after reaching the palace rooftops where Aang and Zuko land. The Avatar carelessly drops your boyfriend on the tile, and you wince on his behalf before offering Zuko your hand to help him back up onto his feet.

“Did you have fun?” You ask with a teasing smile only for the Fire Lord to scowl.

“Don’t ever do that again!” He scolds Aang whilst dusting off his robes.

“Okay, okay, but look!” the boy insists before pressing down on a loose brick that opens up a hidden doorway.

“A secret passageway! So you think this is how Azula and the other Kemurikage escape? How did you figure this out?”

“They searched for clues after you kicked them out of the throne room,” you tell him with a pointed look that has him shrinking guiltily under your gaze. “I think you owe Aang an apology.”

“You’re right,” he murmurs sheepishly. “I’m sorry, I should have been more open to your ideas.”

“Apology accepted!” Aang chirps happily. “Now what’s our next move?”

“Well… Kiyi could be on the other side.”

“Tom-Tom, too. I’m coming along,” Mai interjects firmly, seemingly forgetting Kei Lo’s presence until he corrects her statement with a “We’re coming along.”

Zuko instructs Suki and Ty Lee to stay back and guard the palace, so you bid your friends goodbye before beginning your descent into the narrow passageway. The hallway is cold and claustrophobic, but Aang and Zuko lead the way with their fire bending, cautioning you to watch your step behind them.

You’re quiet for the most part, mulling over your thoughts and insecurities now that you’re given a moment’s silence to think. You’re still feeling a bit insecure about walking in on him with Mai and about his animosity towards Kei Lo, but you haven’t had the chance to talk to him yet. The long distance has been hard on your relationship, and sometimes it’s hard to keep consistent communication when both of you have duties to tend to and entire nations to run, but you never thought it would be a problem. Now, you’re not so sure.

You recall what Azula had told you during your time in the Forgetful Valley, how you and Zuko were an “unnatural” pair that would never work. You hate to admit it or even think it, but what if she’s right? What if you’re just kidding yourself? Maybe Mai really has been the right girl for him all along. After all, she is Fire Nation, and she certainly is more qualified to be dating the Fire Lord than you are. You wish Suki were here to talk to, surely she’d know just what to say and could stop you from spiraling like you are now, but without her it seems it’s just you and your thoughts for now.

“Hey, I didn’t get to introduce myself earlier,” a voice says, pulling you out of your thoughts. “I’m Kei Lo, Mai’s boyfriend.”

“Yes, I’m sorry, everything’s just been so chaotic. I’m y/n, Zuko’s girlfriend.”

“That’s right, Mai told me. Say, aren’t you a Chief? Should I be calling you Chief y/n instead?”

“Just y/n is perfectly fine,” you correct him with an awkward laugh. Unbeknownst to you, Zuko is listening in on every word. He doesn’t trust Kei Lo, not one bit, and he doesn’t want him roping you into any trouble. He doesn’t care if he really isn’t in cahoots with the Safe Nation Society, if Kei Lo so much as looks at you in a way Zuko doesn’t like he’ll be tossed into a cell immediately.

“So how’s a Chief of a water tribe end up dating the Fire Lord?” He asks with a laugh.

“It’s a very long story.”

“Please spare me the details,” Mai says with a roll of her eyes.

“Yeah, it may not be the best time for that story,” you note with an apprehensive smile.

“You’re probably right. Still, it’s a pretty awkward situation we’ve all found ourselves in.”

“You can say that again.”

After some time group is finally able to reach the end of the passageway, and the only thing standing in your way from the other side is a solid wooden door.

“This must be it,” Zuko announces hopefully. “Behind this door could be Kiyi and Tom-Tom.”

“And Azula,” Aang adds apprehensively before helping the Fire Lord push the heavy wood open. The creak of the old hinges is deafening, echoing in the silent hallway, and you watch with bated breath as the light from the other side slowly begins to seep in. Carefully, you follow the two out the door only to be met with a disappointing site.

There are no missing children and there is no Azula. Instead, you’re faced with a gloomy and desolate graveyard.

“What is this place?” You murmur in awe, your eyes scanning across the expanse of withered headstones. You’ve never seen anything like it.

“I’ve been here before,” Zuko notes thoughtfully, “this is the royal family graveyard.”

“I thought that’s what the Dragonstone catacombs were for,” Aang questions with furrowed brows.

“No, the catacombs are only for Fire Lords. This place is for everyone else. It’s called the Garden of Tranquil Souls.”

“Really? Well, I hate to break it to you, Zuko, but…” the Avatar begins uneasily, and you follow his shifting gaze towards the clouds of smoke that begin to surround the graveyard. Taking a step back, you reach to unclip your water pouch as the dark figures begin to close in on your group. “The souls here don’t seem all that tranquil!”

The group of Kemurikage don’t hesitate to attack, and immediately your group is split apart as you all begin to defend yourselves against their assault. Blasts of fire are shot your way left and right, but you’re able to deflect it every time with your water bending. You manage to take down two of the spirits by encasing them up to their necks in ice, but your progress only seems to make a dent in their ambush. Zuko and Aang are still corned back to back, and Azula has managed to single out Mai and Kei Lo. She holds the boy by the collar of his shirt, eyes full of malice and hand ready to strike him with her blue flames despite Mai’s pleas for her to leave her boyfriend alone.

Before she can harm him, you send a blast of water towards her with an effortful grunt that shoots her across the graveyard and into one of the pillars. The impact is forceful enough to put a crack in the tombstone and disorient Azula momentarily to allow Kei Lo and Mai the chance to escape.

“Are you alright?” You ask him after rushing towards the couple. Mai helps him to his feet before looking to you, her eyes full of gratitude and sincerity.

“Thank you,” she says earnestly, and you give her an appreciative nod in return.

Rising from the ground with a grunt of pain, Azula is filled with rage at your assault on her. How dare you think you can beat her at her own game?

“Helping out your competition? That’s pathetic even for you, dearest,” she insults, irises aflame with fury. “Perhaps you and Zuko are more compatible than I thought.”

“What’s pathetic is the fact that you’re still obsessed with becoming Fire Lord,” you spit back, water cloaking your arms to form tentacle-like limbs for attack.

“Oh, I’m much past that now. I have a new mission,” she notes airily with a passive wave of her hand. Her eyes harden suddenly then and electricity begins to spread across her fingertips. “One that simply won’t work with you in the picture.”

Before she can raise her hands to strike you with her lightening blast, Zuko is quick to send a hail of flames her way to distract her. “Leave her out of this! It’s me you want!”

“Oh, Zuzu, always so dramatic,” she mocks before creating a cloud of smoke to cover her as she runs away.

“You have to go after her!” You exclaim urgently. “I’ll stay back and help Aang handle the rest of the Kemurikage.”

After ensuring you’ll be fine without him, Zuko gives you one final nod before chasing after his sister. You, on the other hand, rush back towards Aang to see if he needs any help. However, it seems he’s been able to manage the assailants just fine on his own.

“Princess! Where’d everybody go?” He asks, perplexed at the sudden disappearance of your group.

“Zuko went after Azula. I’m not sure where Mai and Kei Lo are,” you note as you scan the garden for any sign of them. “What do we do now? We still haven’t found the missing children.”

As if on cue, a shrill voice coming from the passageway calls out for help. You exchange an alarmed glance with Aang before immediately sprinting back into the doorway. A breath of relief leaves you at the sight of Mai’s father with the children in tow, but your ease is short lived at the sight of the two Kemurikage that hold them captive.

“Look!” One of the kids exclaims. “It’s the Avatar and Chief y/n!”

“Hi kids, we’ve been looking all over for you!” Aang says with an overjoyed wave.

“Are you guys alright?!” You call out protectively. “Is anyone hurt?”

“We’re great!” Kiyi calls back prompting you to let out a relieved laugh. You’re so happy to see her and see that she’s okay, but your joyous reunion is quickly cut short by the two spirits who begin to approach the two of you with whips of fire.

“Hang on, kids!” You tell them before beginning to take on the Kemurikage. There’s two of them, so you and Aang each take on one. They’re powerful fighters, but the safety of the children is on the line, so you use all of your might to fight them off as best as you can.

You counter their whip with one of your own, slicing through their weapon each time before it can strike you. While one of your hands controls the water whip, the other sends constant shards of ice hurtling toward the cloaked woman. You can tell she’s beginning to tire, your attacks too much for her to keep up with, but you’re too focused to notice the second figure approaching closely behind you. The Kemurikage’s whip is raised to strike you in the back, but their attack is halted by the blade that slices through the air and pins their hand against the wall.

“What-!” You exhale in surprise, turning just in time to see Mai swoop in and finish the job. The last two spirits have been apprehended, and you’ve been spared a wound that surely could have been fatal.

“Someone had to watch your back,” Mai explains with a faint smile. “You had ours.”

“Thank you,” you utter with a breathless grin. It feels nice to not hate each other for once, and you actually seem to work quite well together.

“Y/n! Y/n!” A voice calls, stealing your attention away from the girl and back to the children. Kiyi sprints towards you with a gleeful smile, and you’re quick to scoop her up into your arms and give her the tightest hug. “You came back!”

“I promised, didn’t I?” You say with a playful smile, carefully pushing back the hair from her face. “I’m so relieved to see you’re okay, and I know Zuko will be too.”

“Guess what? I’m a fire bender now!” She boasts proudly. “I burned a hole through the door so we could escape!”

“That’s incredible!” You praise with a laugh. “Wait until your brother hears this.”

Across the way, Mai cradles her little brother in her arms and watches you speak animatedly with Zuko’s sister. Your interest in Kiyi’s story is completely genuine, and she can see just how much the girl values your opinion. It’s so different from the way Azula used to talk about you, speaking poorly of your character and diminishing you to nothing but a weak Princess. Maybe Mai had judged you too harshly. After all, she might not have been able to get her brother back without your help.

“Thank you again for your help,” she tells you after setting Tom-Tom down to allow him to bid his goodbyes to his new friends. “I was wrong about you, and I shouldn’t have let my resentment cloud my judgement the way I did. I guess I really don’t hate you as much as I thought I did.”

“I appreciate you saying that,” you express with a careful smile. Perhaps things will always be awkward between the two of you, but this is at least a good start.

After making sure all of the children are accounted for, your group exits the passageway just as Zuko emerges from one of the mausoleums. Kiyi is quick to sprint towards her brother, and you watch on with a smile at the way his eyes seem to light up while hugging her close.

“Kiyi! I can’t tell you how worried I was about you.”

“I wasn’t worried at all!” She notes with a grateful smile. “You should’ve seen it, Zuzu! Y/n helped the Avatar take those nasty ladies down!”

“She did, did she?” He asks playfully, glancing over to you with a grateful smile. You simply give him a sheepish shrug in return. “I’ll have to be sure to give her my thanks.”

“And Azula?” You ask him, but his solemn gaze is enough of an answer. “She said she had a new mission, did she tell you what it was?”

“She wasn’t interested in becoming Fire Lord, she was interested in turning me into the type of Fire Lord she would be. The type that rules with fear, ruthlessness. Just like my father. Azula says I can’t escape who I am, and it will only be a matter of time before I’m just like her.”

“You don’t believe that, do you? You’re nothing like Azula,” you say earnestly. “You never will be.”

“I know,” Zuko murmurs softly, but you can see the slightest bit of doubt in his eyes and it saddens to you to know he doesn’t fully believe it to be true. “But either way she escaped. I don’t know where she is or when she’ll return.”

“We’ll be there to help you if she does come back, buddy,” Aang consoles with a comforting hand on the Fire Lord’s shoulder. “For now, let’s just focus on returning these kids back to their families.”

“Good point, Aang. Now,” you say, looking to the children who stare up at you with tired eyes that immediately brighten when you ask, “who’s ready to go home?”

~~~

Peace has been restored in the Fire Nation; the children have been returned safely to their parents, and Zuko has earned the forgiveness of his people for his mishandling of the situation. Everything is almost perfect.

You lean against the balcony of your room for the night and stare up contemplatively at the moon. Yue shines beautifully as always, and you find comfort in her light as you battle against the darkness clouding your thoughts. Your doubts about your relationship still rage on, and you haven’t been able to fight them off no matter how hard you try. You haven’t mentioned anything to Zuko, not wanting to distract him from his duty to his people, but the suffering in silence act you’ve been pulling all day hasn’t been helping your state of mind. Suki had urged you to talk to him, stating you had nothing to worry about because she’s seen firsthand how much he misses you when you’re away, but you were too anxious to follow through. What if you won’t like what you hear when you finally speak to Zuko?

You’re too engrossed in your thoughts to hear your door open or the quiet footsteps that head towards you, and it isn’t until he’s right beside you that you finally feel the familiar warmth that constantly emanates from his body. You don’t have to look to know that it’s Zuko.

“Suki said I should come to talk to you,” he says softly, golden eyes looking to you inquisitively. “Is everything alright?”

“I… I’m not sure,” you admit quietly, nervously fidgeting with your fingers and refusing to meet his gaze.

“What is it?”

His hand sneaks its way in between your own to halt your fidgeting and reassure that he’s right there with you and ready to listen to whatever it is you have to say. Sighing, you finally look to him with uncertainty swimming in your eyes.

“Do you have feelings for Mai?”

He’s stunned to stay the least, eyes widening slightly in surprise at your question. It’s certainly the last thing he expected you to ask him.

“Is this what you were trying to talk to me about earlier?” He presses gently, frowning at the way you slowly nod your head. “I see…”

“Just be honest with me, Zuko,” you plead desperately. “We promised we’d never keep secret from each other anymore, so if there’s something to tell then tell me. I can handle it.”

“I can’t stand here and tell you that it didn’t look bad when you walked in on Mai and I,” Zuko admits with a sigh. “But I can tell you that nothing was going on.”

“I heard you say you care about her.”

“It was out of context. I was trying to make things right for the sake of finding the children- she was obviously still upset over what went down between us, and I was trying to keep the peace so that we could work together to find our siblings. I’ve known her since we were kids, and if it weren’t for her I never would have been able to escape Boiling Rock and come back to you. So in a way I guess I do care for her, but it’s nothing compared to how much I care for you.”

“What about your animosity towards Kei Lo? You seemed… jealous of him.”

“I wasn’t jealous, I just didn’t trust him. I still don’t,” Zuko says adamantly. “I wasn’t exactly thrilled about having to release him because I didn’t want him to try and pull anything. I didn’t want Mai getting hurt, and I especially didn’t want him putting you in any danger.”

“So… so you don’t have feelings for her?” You ask meekly, the slightest bit of doubt still present in your voice.

“I’ve never had feelings for her,” Zuko says earnestly before gently taking your hands in his own. “You’re the only girl for me, y/n. I was stupid enough to let you go once, but I’m never making that mistake again.”

You can’t help but smile at his admission, tears beginning to well in your eyes as you throw your arms around him in a tight embrace that he immediately returns. It feels like a weight has finally been lifted off your shoulders, and all the worry and self doubt you had is finally beginning to melt away.

“I never want you to feel doubtful or insecure about our relationship ever again. I’m going to do everything in my power to do better,” he professes earnestly. “I love you more than you know, and you don’t ever have to worry about someone coming between us again.”

“I love you, Zuko.”

He pulls you in for a kiss, and with the moonlight shining down upon you both, everything is almost perfect.

For neither of you notice the pair of golden eyes that stare down at you from the rooftops with disdain and disgust before disappearing into the shadows.

“Pathetic.”

| atla tags: @sirkekselord @niktwazny303

| zuko tags: @thebluelcdy @royahllty @the-firebender-girl @ilovespideyyy @yiyibetch @eridanuswave @lammello @a-monsters-love @knaite-solo @taeeemin

| fire lilies tags: @emberislandplayers @kikaninchen-2 @music-geek19 @thia-aep @thyunnamed @haylaansmi @nataliahaslosthershit @idkdude776 @aangsupremacy @thirstyforsometea @ihaveaproblem98 @brown-eyed-thang @xapham @misnmatchedsox @chewymoustachio @that-bucket-hat-gal @chilifrylizard2 @kyomihann @kaylove12 @kiwihoee @freggietale @moon-spirit-yue @bubblegum-bee-otch

[melrosing]

who do you think jaime didn't tell cersei and tyrion about aerys? is it because they already don't blame him?

I think it’s a few things??

Firstly, there’s the fact that Jaime hasn’t told anyone before Brienne, not just his siblings. He doesn’t like having to explain himself to anyone: if people have assumed the worst, he resents the expectation that he should beg for their understanding. If they’re so shallow minded, why should he tear himself to pieces trying to win back their esteem?

Then I think he also suspects that if he did try to explain, they wouldn’t believe him anyway - the trappings of the KG and House Lannister are such that many would judge Jaime by his supposed allegiances before Jaime as an individual, and there’s nothing he can do about that. And I think that’s part of what ‘by what right does the wolf judge the lion?’ means - both sides have blood on their hands, why should he submit to their judgement?

all this gets away from the fact Jaime hasn’t told his siblings but I think it’s the context - Jaime has tried to convince himself he doesn’t owe anyone an explanation, he doesn’t care what anyone thinks. and as for Cersei and Tyrion, I don’t think they care what his reasons were either way. Cersei is not impressed by moral grandstanding, and would probably be MORE impressed by the notion of Jaime killing Aerys for the sake of House Lann (rather than the city). But by and large she doesn’t care about Jaime’s inferiority, and Jaime is happy to pretend to be whatever she wants him to be, so that’s that.

And for Tyrion, idk, I think he just loves Jaime pretty much unconditionally (even now I think he still does), and Jaime’s motivations in killing Aerys just wouldn’t matter much to him. He might be kind of impressed by the moral reasons Jaime did it, and probably even surprised… but Tyrion is a pretty Machiavellian kind of guy himself, I don’t think he’d think there’s much wrong with just taking Aerys out for Tywin’s sake, either. And I think Jaime is more or less content to be an uncomplicated figure for Tyrion, because Tyrion already accepts the rest (I.e. his relationship w Cers) without question. They never seek to explain themselves to one another. EXCEPT that one time.

So the difference w Brienne (you didn’t ask but I’m thinking out loud now) is primarily this: Brienne is not a hypocrite. she walks the walk, allying herself purely to what she believes in, which is ofc true knighthood, and all this with no ulterior motive. and somewhere deep down, Jaime holds the same values as she does. so by virtue of this, her esteem means something to him. he thinks she could see him with unclouded vision, and wants to know what she’d make of him if she did.

the Lannister siblings do not really hold the same values as Jaime, nor can they see him w unclouded vision, nor are they really interested in understanding Jaime in this way, so that’s why I think he doesn’t tell them.

[dearestdolly444]

Can tadc have victorian goth witch ? Her favourite film probably would be Love Witch...

Her dress and her witch hat has spider and siper webs accessory..

And calls them all with a "darling" nickname in a platonic way and kinda she is like a rich aunt to them and she is a good listener and has dark humor too

İ loved your blog btw

⛧°。⋆TADC x witchy!reader⋆。°⛧

Giggles this is my first anon request

As a witch, this made me so happy to get! I love that movie so much omg. And thank you cutie💕

If you’d like a part two let me know<3

Warnings: implied platonic, but could be seen as romantic

Characters: Caine, Gangle, Kinger

now playing…

Caine

- Lets be honest, he’s not going to approve of your choice in movies. The Love Witch isn’t exactly PG… but he’ll let you watch Sabrina The Teenage Witch! That’s close enough, right—?

- He might let you tone down the colours of your bedroom, but doesn’t let you change it to dark colours like black, sadly. Still have to keep the circus theme!

- Caine likes your style but would try to coax you to wear something more colourful. Maybe try a bright yellow! Or a neon pink! No? Oh well, maybe next time (it won’t work next time either).

- Calls you nicknames right back! A shortened version of your name, “dear,” or maybe “toots.” Gets a bit more peppy-in-his-steppy when you call him something when he’s not expecting it.

- Appreciates when you listen to the other circus members issues. It means less abstractions, which means less work for him… but really, he does find it quite helpful and sweet!

- Does not, however, appreciate your sense of humour. Will probably slap a censor on you when he thinks you’re being ”inappropriate” so you’ll have to tone it down, at least around him.

Gangle

- She’s attached to you, honestly. She just gets so happy and giddy when you call her “darling.” Depending on her mask, she might even give you a small nickname back. She’s be very shy about it, though…

- Adores your style even though she wouldn’t personally wear it. It just looks so good on you, probably not on her, though. She’s feel very flattered if you offered to dress her up, or even in the real world AU do her makeup. She’d probably let you but don’t go to heavy on everything. And it’s not staying on for a long time. She doesn’t like to feel very confined.

- Gangle will vent to you if you let her. If she’s feeling sad, she’ll seek you out to help her. She’ll either want comfort or light advice, so ask her beforehand.

- She finds 1/2 your humour hilarious and the other 1/2 kind of spooky… it really depends on her mask that day. She might make jokes with you or she might just give you a “😨” kind of look, LMAO😭

- Might watch movies with you, but she’ll cling to your arm when scary parts pop up. It’s not that she doesn’t like the movies or shows, it just creeps her out a little.

Kinger

- He’s a little afraid of you at first. He thinks you’ll curse him or something. He gets used to you, but sometimes he’ll scream and run away when you just appear there (He didn’t see you walk in).

- Once you’re there for a couple digital months he gets much more comfortable and even invites you in his pillow fort! Please say yes, it’ll make him so happy. Speaking of activities, he would also ask to find insects with you, seeing how you seem to like spiders. He probably thought you had real spiders on your clothes before he realized they were just decoration.

- Bless his soul, he doesn’t understand your humour. He asks about your jokes every time, and at this point you just pat him on the head and tell him not to worry about it.

- He likes to rant to you about anything. Sometimes it doesn’t even make sense, but you still listen. It makes him really excited to talk about how he once saw a game show that starred dogs in his dreams. And he also likes to vent, but it ends up in him talking about his next grand pillow fort..

- He giggles slightly when you call him petnames. If he had feet, they would be kicking. He probably doesn’t call you anything back, but he appreciates it! If he does call you something, it’s “dear.”

[bratminksstuff]

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯ᯓᡣ𐭩 Part 2.

Azriel x reader| After Azriel rejects Y/N, he realizes how deeply he has mistaken and tries to win her back

warnings: slight angst, happy ending , fluff

a/n: you asked for part 2 and I delivered. Happy reading loves!!

word count: 976 

Days turned into weeks, and Azriel couldn’t escape the echo of Y/N’s voice as she walked away that night. Her words haunted him, lingering in the corners of his mind even when he tried to push them away. The way her eyes had shimmered with unshed tears—the hurt he’d caused—was a memory he couldn’t shake.

He thought being honest was the right thing to do, thought he’d spared her more pain by letting her go. But now, Azriel felt hollow, as if he’d cut off a piece of himself. His shadows, usually comforting companions, offered no solace. Instead, they whispered her name, danced with memories of her smile, and tugged at him to seek her out.

It was only when he saw Elain again—her delicate beauty and warm demeanor as enchanting as ever—that it hit him. There was no ache in his chest, no yearning in his soul. Elain had been a fantasy, a dream of what he thought he wanted. But Y/N? She had been real, grounding him with her strength, her courage, her warmth. She’d seen him—not the shadowsinger, not the weapon—but the man. And he’d let her go.

Azriel clenched his fists, his jaw tight. He had made a mistake. A colossal mistake. And if there was one thing he’d learned in centuries of war and regret, it was that some mistakes couldn’t be undone—but they could be atoned for.

He would fight for her.

It started small. Azriel appeared in the training grounds where Y/N had taken to honing her skills. She ignored him at first, her focus sharp as she shot arrow after arrow at the targets. But he stayed, silently watching, his heart lurching every time she refused to meet his gaze.

The next day, she found a bouquet of night-blooming flowers waiting for her on the table in the House of Wind, a simple note tucked between them: I’m sorry. I miss you.

She left the flowers untouched.

Azriel didn’t give up. He sought her out, tried to speak with her, but Y/N evaded him at every turn. When she wasn’t training, she was out with Nesta or Feyre, and when she was home, she locked herself in her room. The message was clear: she didn’t want to see him.

But Azriel was nothing if not persistent.

One night, as the stars blanketed Velaris, he found her in her favorite place—the balcony where he had broken her heart. She was leaning against the railing, the wind playing with her hair. She didn’t look at him as he approached, but he knew she sensed him.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice soft but heavy with emotion.

She sighed, her eyes fixed on the horizon. “What do you want, Azriel?”

“To apologize,” he said immediately, stepping closer but keeping his distance. “And to tell you I was wrong.”

That made her turn, her brows furrowing in confusion. “Wrong?”

He nodded, his shadows curling tightly around him as though ashamed. “I thought I was doing the right thing by letting you go. I thought… I thought my heart belonged to someone else. But I was blind. Elain was never mine to love. And even if she were…” His voice broke, and he looked at her with a vulnerability she’d never seen before. “She isn’t you.”

Y/N blinked, caught off guard by his words. “Azriel—”

“Please,” he said, his voice almost a plea. “Let me finish. You saw me—the real me—and still cared. You never tried to change me or fix me. You were just there, steady and unwavering. And I was a fool to push you away. I don’t deserve you, I know that. But, Y/N, I’m asking for a chance to prove that I can be better—for you.”

She crossed her arms, her expression guarded. “You think a few flowers and pretty words will make me forget how much you hurt me?”

“No,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “I know it won’t. I know I’ll have to earn your trust back, brick by brick. I’ll wait as long as it takes. I’ll do whatever it takes. Just… don’t shut me out completely.”

Y/N studied him, searching his face for any sign of insincerity. But all she saw was raw regret and hope—hope that she could crush with a single word.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again,” she admitted, her voice cracking.

Azriel stepped closer, his shadows parting to let her see the truth in his eyes. “Then I’ll spend the rest of my life proving you can.”

For a long moment, she said nothing. Then, finally, she sighed. “You have one chance, Azriel. Don’t waste it.”

His shoulders sagged with relief, and for the first time in weeks, a faint smile touched his lips. “I won’t.”

It wasn’t easy. Azriel kept his word, showing up every day with small gestures of kindness and unwavering support. He trained alongside her, listened when she spoke, and gave her the space she needed when she asked for it. Slowly, the walls she had built began to crack.

One evening, as they stood on that same balcony, Y/N turned to him, her eyes soft. “You’re lucky I’m giving you a second chance, shadowsinger.”

Azriel smiled, his shadows swirling happily around them. “I know. And I’ll spend every day earning it.”

She shook her head, but a small smile tugged at her lips. “You already have.”

And as he reached for her hand, their fingers intertwining under the starlit sky, Azriel knew he would never let her go again.

[acute-crashout-jeyuso]

Between the Ropes.. a Jey Uso x Rhea Ripley fanfic.

Chapter 33: True Meaning…

7:37 PM

The sun was starting to set, barely peeking over the clouds, just before Rhea made her way to the hospital to visit Jey. The crisp air of the Pensacola late afternoon swirled around her as she stepped onto the porch, seeking a moment of calm before the overwhelming anxiety of seeing Jey in the ICU again. As she walked out, she spotted Jaciyah sitting on the porch steps, his back leaning against the wooden rail, lost in the music playing through his AirPods.

Rhea hesitated for a second, watching him. They hadn’t really spoken since that movie night in September, when she had handed him a pack of Jolly Ranchers, trying to bridge the gap between them. Both had been unsure of how to navigate the complexities of this new dynamic. But Takecia urged her to sit down beside him today and that’s what she was determined to do.

Jaciyah, sensing her presence, removed one of his AirPods and glanced at her, acknowledging her quietly before pulling out the other one. The two sat in silence for a few moments, letting the gentle breeze dance around them.

Then, unexpectedly, Jaciyah broke the silence. “Did it hurt?”

Rhea turned to him, confused by his question. “What do you mean?”

He kept his eyes forward, staring off at the distance, his voice soft but serious. “Did it hurt when you tried to kill yourself?”

The question hit her like a ton of bricks. She wasn’t sure how to respond, caught off guard by the weight of the moment. Rhea felt her breath catch in her throat, unsure if she could give Jey’s eldest son the answer he deserved, or if she even knew how to explain it in a way that made sense.

She looked down at her hands, fiddling with the chain around her neck that Jey had given her. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she said softly, “I wasn’t in the right headspace.”

Jaciyah didn’t respond immediately. He took a deep breath, clearly thinking about what she had said before adding, “God says it’s a sin to do that.”

Rhea’s chest tightened at his words. She sighed, unsure of how to tread in this conversation but knowing it was important.

“I think… maybe God sent an angel to me,” she said quietly, looking up at the sky as if Julie would make her presence once more. “To tell me that my life isn’t over yet. I don’t know how else to explain it. I felt like I was drowning, and in that moment, nothing made sense. But something, or someone, pulled me back.”

Jaciyah shifted beside her, and Rhea felt the weight of his gaze on her. “I’ve never seen my dad that sad before.”

His words cut through her like a knife. Jey—her Jey—had been devastated, and she had caused that pain. It was something she could never take back, no matter how much she wanted to.

“I scared a lot of people,” Rhea admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “Your dad… my family, Jon, Trinity… you, too. And I’m sorry for that. I never meant to hurt anyone.”

The silence between them thickened, but in that quiet space, there was a mutual understanding. Jaciyah was just a kid—still trying to make sense of a complicated adult world, just as she was trying to find her own way in it.

“I’m glad you didn’t die,” Jaciyah said softly, after a beat. His words were simple, but they carried the weight of a boy who had seen too much, who had watched his father break, and who was now standing at the crossroads of understanding how fragile life really was.

Rhea turned to him and gave a small, sad smile. “Me too.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, there was a sense of connection between them, however fleeting.

—

Later on, Rhea rolled up to the Wendy’s drive-thru window, thanking the lady as she grabbed her food. It wasn’t her favorite fast food, but it would hold her over for the long night ahead. She tossed the bag onto the passenger seat and headed toward the hospital, where she knew she’d be spending an evening by Jey’s side.

Parking in the overnight visitor lot, Rhea slung her backpack over her shoulder, making sure her laptop was inside along with a few essentials. She carefully grabbed her food and made her way through the hospital, taking the familiar path up to the third-floor ICU.

Once she reached Jey’s room, she nudged the door open, her eyes instantly landing on him. The constant beeps of the monitors were the only sign of life in the quiet room. Setting her things down on the tray beside the bed, she leaned in and gently kissed Jey’s lips, her fingers brushing his cheek.

“Good evening babe..” she whispered, her voice soft but full of affection.

Rhea sat down in the chair beside the bed, feeling the weight of the day lift off her shoulders as she settled in for the night. She opened her backpack, pulling out her laptop. Navigating through her downloads list, she settled on on Jey’s favorites—Harlem Nights.

She positioned the laptop on the tray so both she and Jey could “watch” together, even if he wasn’t able to respond. It was something she’d figured to try—acting as if nothing had changed, as if he were awake and they were just enjoying each other’s company like always.

Rhea unwrapped her food, the scent of Wendy’s fries filling the room as she took her first bite. A smile tugged at her lips as the movie began. Every time something funny happened on screen, she found herself laughing out loud, glancing at Jey as if waiting for him to laugh along with her.

“She really said go ahead and shoot me in my pinkie toe,” she said between bites, her heart aching for a response she knew wouldn’t come—at least not yet.

But she stayed hopeful, enjoying the movie as if they were both there together, just like old times.

After finishing her meal, Rhea crumpled the wrappers into a ball and tossed them into the trash bin by the door. The smell of Wendy’s lingered in the air, but she didn’t mind; it had given her some comfort for the moment. Now, her eyes fell on Jey, still lying in the hospital bed, his chest rising and falling, she found herself focusing on more and more lately. Her gaze landed on the silver bracelet Jon had placed on his wrist and the ula fala draped across his chest, placed by Joe. These symbols, small yet so significant, reminded her of the deep roots he had within his family and how much everyone was fighting to bring him back to them.

She leaned down, brushing her lips against his, just for a second longer this time. It was a soft, lingering kiss. “I wish you would just wake up…” she whispered, barely able to hold back the tremble in her voice.

Her thumb gently traced the edge of his tattooed arm, feeling the warmth beneath his skin. It was hard to believe that under all the stillness, all the silence, he was still there, fighting. Rhea let out a sigh, leaning her head down onto his stomach. She could feel the faint rise and fall of his abdomen as he breathed, the only reassurance she had that he was still with her, though locked away in some other world. It wasn’t enough. She wanted more than the rise and fall, more than the steady beep of the machines. She wanted him—his voice, his laugh, his presence.

She closed her eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing. The weight of the day started pressing down on her, exhaustion creeping into her limbs. How long had she been here, in this waiting game? The days blurred together. She didn’t know anymore.

Just as she was about to drift off into a light sleep, something shifted beneath her. A faint pressure pushed against her head, and her eyes flew open. Had she imagined it? She wasn’t sure, but then it happened again—a slight movement, as if he were trying to speak.

“Why do you always have to wake me up?”

Rhea’s heart stopped, her breath catching in her throat as her head snapped up. Her wide, startled eyes locked onto Jey’s face, searching for confirmation that she hadn’t just imagined the voice. His eyelids were half-open now, and his lips, curved into a familiar, lazy grin, sent a shock of disbelief straight through her.

“Jey?” Her voice cracked, barely above a whisper, as if she was afraid saying his name would shatter this moment, would make him disappear back into that unresponsive state.

He blinked slowly, his eyes hazy but clearly focused on her, his grin widening despite the effort it took him. “Why do you always have to wake me up?” he repeated, his voice a low rasp, but there was that teasing edge in it—the one that used to drive her crazy.

Rhea’s eyes welled with tears before she could even process it. “Oh my God,” she whispered, her hands trembling as she reached for him, as if to make sure he was real, to make sure this wasn’t some cruel dream playing tricks on her tired mind. Her fingertips brushed against his face, feeling the rough stubble that had grown during his time here. He was really here.

She couldn’t hold herself back any longer. In a rush of emotion, she threw herself at him, wrapping her arms around him tightly, burying her face into his neck. The smell of antiseptic and hospital linens faded beneath the scent of his skin, and that was all she needed right now—him.

“I missed you so much,” she sobbed, the words muffled against his shoulder.

“Babe… my arm…” Jey’s voice came out in a pained groan, the sound snapping her out of her emotional trance.

“Oh shit!” Rhea immediately released him, her hands hovering as if unsure where to touch him now. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry,” she babbled, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand, her face flushed with embarrassment.

Jey winced, but there was still that little smirk on his lips, even as he shifted uncomfortably in the bed. “Always so extra, huh?” he muttered, his voice still raspy, but it held that same playful tone he always had with her.

Rhea, still overwhelmed with emotion, let out a breathy laugh. “Well, excuse me for being happy you’re awake,” she retorted, trying to compose herself but failing miserably as fresh tears slipped down her cheeks.

Jey raised his hand—the one without the IV—and weakly wiped away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. His fingers were slow and shaky, but the gesture was enough to make her melt all over again.

“Stop crying, girl,” he said softly. “I’m still here.”

Rhea sniffed, holding his hand against her cheek. “I know, I know… I just… I thought I’d lost you.”

He chuckled weakly. “Nah, I’m not going anywhere. Can’t leave my little button nose all alone, can I?”

Rhea grinned, choking on a laugh as she leaned in closer to him. “You better not,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to his. “Because I’m not letting you out of my sight again.”

They stayed like that for a moment, forehead to forehead, Jey’s slow breaths mixing with Rhea’s. It was as if the world outside the hospital room had stopped for them, just for this one precious moment where nothing else mattered but the fact that he was awake, alive, and still hers.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice soft but filled with all the emotion she’d been holding back for so long.

Jey’s eyes flickered with warmth, and he gave her the tiniest nod. “Love you too, babe,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere. Then, with a small, tired grin, he added, “Now… when can we go home?” Jey asked.

“Easy there babe. Let me call for the nurse.” Rhea replied.

After some time the nurses finished checking all his vitals, satisfied with the readings. They began the orders to remove his medical aids, carefully unhooking him from the machines that had been a constant presence during his time in the ICU. Jey shifted slightly, the freedom feeling odd yet refreshing.

Rhea pulled out her phone, a grin spreading across her face. “We have to let the cavalry know you’re awake!”

Jey chuckled lightly, the sound a little raspy but full of life. “I can only imagine the chaos that’s about to ensue.”

“Hey, do I look good?” Jey asked, glancing at Rhea with a teasing smirk.

Rhea rolled her eyes, unable to suppress a laugh. “Really? You’re in a hospital bed, Jey. I don’t have the water bottle to make your hair sleek like you usually do.”

“Just asking for a friend,” he replied, laughing softly, wincing a little as he shifted his position.

Rhea raised her phone and pressed record. “Say something for the fans, Uce,” she urged, her excitement bubbling over.

Jey took a breath, puffing out his chest slightly, and grinned into the camera. “Nothing could keep Uce down!” he proclaimed, his voice gaining strength.

The two of them shared a laugh, and Rhea leaned in to plant a quick kiss on his cheek. “Perfect!” she exclaimed, stopping the recording.

She pressed send to a group message titled “The Family” that included Joe, Jon, Trinity, Joseph, Solofa, Galina, Almia, and Takecia.

The Family:

• Rhea: [Video of Jey] “Look who’s awake! 🥳❤️”

• Joe: “Let’s go! Uce is back! 🙌🔥”

• Jon: “Hell yes! I knew you’d pull through, brother!”

• Trinity: “So happy for you, Jey! Can’t wait to see you!”

• Joseph: “Yessss! Party at the Uso house?”

• Solofa: “You’re a warrior, Jey! We love you son!”

• Galina: “Can’t wait to celebrate! 😍”

• Almia: “Yay! So relieved!”

• Takecia: “I’m already on my way with the kids!”

Rhea smiled at the responses flooding in before she sent the same video to another group chat titled “Squad” for her their friends.

Group Chat: Squad

• Rhea: [Video of Jey] “My papi is awake! 🎉💖”

• Damian: “Let’s go! The party starts now! 🍾”

• Kayden: “Yes! I’m so glad to hear this! We need to celebrate!”

• Finn: “Count me in for the welcome back bash!”

• Liv: “OMG! This is amazing news! Love you both! 😘”

• Dom: “He’s coming back to steal the spotlight! Get ready!”

• Cody: “Jey, you’re a legend! Can’t wait to see you back in action!”

A few moments later, Rhea’s phone started buzzing like crazy, notifications popping up almost faster than she could read them.

“Wow, they really want to make sure you feel the love,” Rhea chuckled, glancing at Jey, who was beaming at all the messages.

“Seems like I’ll need to have a lot of visitors,” Jey said, still looking a bit dazed but undeniably happy. “Is there even room for all of them in this room?”

Rhea shook her head with a laugh. “Not unless we clear out the medical equipment! But you know they’ll find a way.”

As the excitement buzzed around them, Jey felt a warmth in his chest—an overwhelming sense of belonging and love that wrapped around him like a blanket.

Rhea smiled at him, unable to hide her joy. “Welcome back love,” she said softly, her heart swelling at the sight of him awake and laughing.

“Feels good to be back,” Jey replied, and with a glance at Rhea, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

—

November 7th, 2024 8:19 AM

The next morning came with a mixture of relief and uncertainty. After waiting, the hospital finally discharged Jey with strict instructions. He was to take at least 3 to 6 months off for rehab and attend physical therapy twice a week. Walking out of the hospital, Rhea and Jey were arm in arm. Rhea had brought him a comfortable oversized shirt and sweats, complete with sneakers she knew he’d appreciate.

The sun outside the hospital was blinding after being indoors for so long, and Jey squinted, adjusting to the light. As they made their way to the parking lot, they spotted a police car parked nearby. Leaning against the side of the vehicle was a detective from the Pensacola Police Department, watching them closely.

“Guess they ain’t wasting any time,” Jey muttered, his voice still scratchy but stronger.

Rhea squeezed his hand. “Let’s see what they need.”

The detective, a stern-looking woman with sharp eyes and a badge reading “Detective Harper,” approached. “Mr. Fatu, Ms. Bennett,” she said, nodding to Rhea using her legal name, “I’m Detective Harper. We need to get a statement from you, Mr. Fatu. Could you come down to the station?”

Jey sighed and nodded. “Let’s get this over with.”

Rhea instinctively moved closer to Jey, her arm still looped through his. “I’m going in with him,” she stated, her tone protective.

Detective Harper held up a hand. “I understand your concern, Ms. Bennett, but when we arrive at the Police Station, we need to take his statement separately. It’s just procedure. We don’t want any claims of wrongdoing in the process.”

Rhea bristled, not liking the idea of being apart from Jey, especially after everything they’d been through. “Fine,” she muttered, her grip on his arm loosening.

Jey shot her a reassuring look. “It’s alright, babe. We’ll handle it.”

The detective led them to her police car, and soon they arrived at the station. As they stepped inside, Rhea tried to stick by Jey’s side, but the officers directed him into a interrogation room

Rhea stopped at the door of the waiting room and glanced back at Jey, concern written all over her face. “You good?”

“Yeah,” Jey responded, his voice low but steady. “We got this.”

And with that, they were separated, bracing for whatever was about to come.

—

Jey sat in the cold, hard chair, his shoulder aching beneath the bandages, his mind heavy with the memories of that night. The detective across from him, a stern man with tired eyes, sat with a notepad and pen, ready to hear every detail. Jey took a deep breath, leaning forward slightly as he began to recount the night everything went sideways.

“We were in the bathtub, me and Rhea—uh, Demi,” Jey started, using Rhea’s legal name like he knew he had to. “We were just relaxing, trying to unwind. That’s when I heard it. Loud bangs. At first, I thought maybe it was nothing, but… I don’t know. I felt something in my gut. I knew something wasn’t right.”

The detective gave a slight nod, encouraging him to go on.

“I told Rhea to stay put, but she wouldn’t listen. We both got out of the tub, threw on some robes, and went to the living room. The front door was there, and I didn’t think—I just went to open it.”

He paused, shaking his head. “Should’ve checked the peephole. But I didn’t. Soon as I opened it, the door slammed in my face, busted my nose. I fell forward, and that’s when I heard the yelling. It took me a second, but I realized Rhea was screaming, saying it was Matt—her ex-husband, Matthew Addams.”

Jey’s fists clenched at the memory, and the detective scribbled something down in his notepad.

“I heard Rhea call 911. I could hear her voice, but then, there was this other noise. A scream. I didn’t know what was happening, but I got up, pushed through the pain, and grabbed the nearest thing—a white vase.”

Jey could feel the tension in his chest rising as he relived the moment. “I was ready to crack him with it. But then… then Rhea said he had a gun. She told me to put it down.”

The detective’s eyes narrowed. “Did you see the gun?”

Jey hesitated, then shook his head. “Not at first. I didn’t see it until later.”

The detective nodded and motioned for Jey to continue.

“Matt was yelling at her, asking if the miscarriage was his… or mine,” Jey said, his voice tight with the memory. That was the moment everything froze, the moment that left a permanent mark in his mind.

The detective cut him off. “Why would he ask that?”

Jey sighed, running a hand through his hair. He knew he had to come clean, there was no hiding the truth now. “Because… because Matt’s being charged with assaulting Rhea back in September. That’s what caused her to lose the baby.”

The detective looked down at his notepad. “And why would Matt ask about the miscarriage?”

Jey’s jaw clenched. “Because… because Rhea and I were having an affair.”

The detective’s pen stopped for a moment, but Jey could feel the weight of the question hanging between them. Finally, the detective asked, “Tell me about this affair.”

Jey nodded, exhaling slowly. “It started back in February. Rhea, she was still with Matt, but… we got close. We stopped for a bit in April when she was trying to make things work with him. But in July, when she came back, it started up again. And it’s been going on ever since.”

The detective raised an eyebrow. “Did Matt know?”

“Rhea told me he didn’t. Said he never suspected anything.” Jey replied.

The detective leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a more personal tone. “And were you the only one she was intimate with?”

Jey stiffened at the question, but he nodded. “Yeah. Rhea told me I was the only one. If she was still fucking Matt, she would’ve told me.”

The detective’s expression softened slightly, but he apologized nonetheless. “I’m sorry for being intrusive, but… are you sure of that?”

Jey swallowed hard. “She’s my fiancée, man. If she was doing something like that, I’d know. She’d tell me.”

The detective seemed to accept that, nodding again before gesturing for Jey to continue. “Go on. What happened next?”

Jey took another deep breath. “Matt pushed her towards me, gun still in his hand. He pointed it at both of us, right at our faces. He was yelling something—something about us burning in hell. That’s when he pulled the trigger.”

Jey’s voice faltered as he remembered the blast, the sharp, burning pain that followed. “That’s when I got hit. After that… I don’t remember anything.”

The detective sat back in his chair, jotting down the final notes as Jey leaned back, feeling the exhaustion wash over him. It was out in the open now, the truth of what happened that night.

—

Jey was led out of the station, the weight of the conversation with the detective still heavy on his mind. As soon as he stepped outside, he spotted Rhea waiting for him, her eyes lighting up the moment she saw him. She offered him a soft smile, though her own exhaustion was evident in her face.

“I ordered us an Uber back to the hospital parking lot for the car,” Rhea said, her voice calm and reassuring.

Jey nodded, forcing himself to push aside the lingering thoughts. That detective’s question kept replaying in his mind—why would he even ask if Rhea was still being intimate with Matt? He hated that it even made him wonder. He knew Rhea, he trusted her, but the seed of doubt was there now, gnawing at the back of his mind.

They both slid into the Uber, and Jey clenched his jaw, doing his best to seem cool and collected. He didn’t want to cause a scene, not after everything they’d been through. As the car weaved through the streets of Pensacola, Jey found himself glancing at Rhea, searching her face for any sign that might answer the question spinning in his mind. But there was nothing—just the woman he loved, tired and supportive, sitting beside him.

Finally, they made it to the hospital parking lot. Rhea climbed into the driver’s seat of her Jeep, and Jey sank into the passenger seat with a heavy sigh. He stared out the window as she drove, trying to shake the nagging feeling. Before long, they arrived at Jon and Trinity’s house, which had become their temporary refuge until their own place was no longer marked off as a crime scene.

As they pulled into the driveway, everyone came out to greet him. Jon, Trinity, Joe and Galina, Joseph and Almia and his kids rushed out to welcome him back. Takecia had seen him last night but due to her job being demanding now that she was a single mom, had went back to San Francisco, allowing her and Jey’s kids to stay with Jey. Their smiles warmed his heart, and he managed to crack a smile of his own. "I'm happy to be home," Jey said, his voice a little breathless. "But man, I'm winded from today."

Jon exchanged a look with their dad, Solofa, who stood nearby with concern etched on his face. “Is it the meds?” Jon asked.

Jey nodded. “Yeah, probably. Feels like they’re hitting me harder than I thought.”

“It’s okay to rest a bit more dad.” Jaciyah said.

“Yeah just an hour… can you all give me an hour?” Jey asked and everyone agreed.

Rhea stepped in, her voice gentle but firm. “I’ll get him into bed.”

Jey appreciated her stepping in, and together they made their way inside, toward the guest room. The sheets had been freshly washed since Joseph and Almia were about to head home in a few hours, but for now, the space was his.

Jey sat down heavily on the bed, feeling the exhaustion in every muscle. His arm, still in the sling, throbbed slightly, and Rhea helped him ease out of his jacket. Her touch was careful, knowing exactly where his injuries were most sensitive.

As he lay back, feeling the comfort of the bed beneath him, his eyes flickered to Rhea’s face again. That question wouldn’t go away.

As Jey was against the pillows, he tried to get his arm in the sling comfortable, but to no avail. He glanced over at Rhea, who was tucking the covers around him with a gentle, almost mechanical precision. The room was quiet, the distant sound of his family in the living room barely filtering through the walls. But that detective’s question was still gnawing at him, and he couldn’t shake it.

Jey shifted slightly, his mind racing. He had to ask her. He’d asked her before, sure, but this time… this time it felt different. It wasn’t just suspicion anymore, it was doubt. And he hated feeling like this.

“Rhea,” he said softly, watching her as she pulled away from the bed to turn off the light.

“Yeah?” she replied, turning back to him with a soft smile.

Jey hesitated, licking his lips before taking a deep breath. “Were you… were you still sleeping with Matt while we were together?”

Rhea froze, her hand still on the light switch. Her smile faded almost instantly, and the color drained from her face. She stood there for a moment, her body rigid, before slowly lowering her hand. She walked over to the bed and sat next to Jey.

“Jey, I—” she started, her voice wavering.

Jey’s eyes narrowed, the exhaustion from the day not enough to suppress the tension growing inside him. “I’m asking you straight up, Rhea. I need to know. Were you still with him when you and me were together?”

Rhea looked away, her eyes glassy as she bit down on her lip. Jey could see the conflict in her face, the way her chest heaved slightly as she struggled to find the words.

“You told me no before,” Jey pressed. “You said I was the only one.”

Rhea’s shoulders began to tremble, and Jey could see the cracks forming in her composure. Her hands shook as she clutched them together, her knuckles turning white.

“I— I didn’t want to hurt you,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “I didn’t—”

“Didn’t what, Rhea?” Jey’s voice grew sharper, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “Didn’t want to hurt me, or didn’t want me to know the truth?”

Tears started streaming down her cheeks as she crumpled, her body sagging as if the weight of her guilt was finally too much to bear. “Yes, Jey,” she choked out, her voice barely a whisper. “I did. I was still with him… while I was with you.”

Jey’s heart sank, a cold wave washing over him. He stared at her, unable to speak for a moment as the truth hit him like a punch to the gut. All this time, he’d believed her. He’d trusted her.

“Why?” he asked, his voice quieter now, almost heartbroken.

Rhea collapsed into the bed, her hands covering her face as she sobbed. “I didn’t know how to leave him. I thought… I thought I could just pretend like it wasn’t happening. I thought I could make it work with you, that I could move on and leave him behind. But I couldn’t. I was scared, Jey. I was scared of him. And I was scared of losing you.”

Jey’s chest tightened as he listened to her, the hurt and betrayal swirling in his mind. He didn’t know what to say, what to feel. All he knew was that the woman he loved had lied to him—had kept a piece of herself hidden from him all this time.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion. “Why lie to me?”

Rhea wiped her tears away, her eyes red and swollen as she looked at him with a broken expression. “Because I didn’t want to lose you,” she whispered. “And now… I’m so scared I already have.”

Jey sat there, staring at Rhea as she cried next to him. Her words echoed in his mind—I didn’t want to lose you. But all he could think about was how she’d already lost him the moment she chose to lie. It wasn’t just the affair anymore; it was the trust she had shattered.

He ran a hand over his face, feeling the tightness in his chest growing with every passing second. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to yell, to scream, to release the hurt that was bubbling up inside him. But all he could do was sit there, frozen in place, as everything sank in.

“So, you were scared,” Jey said quietly, his voice almost hollow. “But you were still sleeping with him. Even after we started… everything.”

Rhea nodded slowly, her head hanging low. “Yes,” she admitted. “But not because I loved him. I didn’t love him anymore, Jey. I swear. I just—” She cut herself off, trying to control her sobs. “I didn’t know how to leave.”

“Rhea,” Jey started, his voice thick with frustration and exhaustion, “you should’ve told me the truth. You could’ve come to me. We could’ve dealt with it together. But now, how am I supposed to trust you when you kept that from me?”

Rhea’s tears flowed harder, her hands trembling as she wiped at her face. “I know,” she whispered. “I know I should have told you. I just… I was afraid, Jey. Afraid of losing you. Our sex turned into love making so quickly when I came back and then it’s like I just forgot that we were in an affair. I’m so sorry.”

Jey let out a long, shaky breath, his heart aching. He wanted to believe her—he wanted to believe that she was sorry, that she regretted it all. But the pain was still too fresh, the wound still too raw.

“What do we do now?” he asked, his voice barely audible. He wasn’t sure if he was asking her or himself. Could they move past this? Could they rebuild what had been broken?

Rhea looked up at him, her eyes filled with desperation. “I’ll do anything,” she said, her voice trembling. “Anything to make this right. Just please… don’t leave me, Jey. I can’t lose you. Not now.”

Jey shook his head, his emotions warring inside him. “I don’t know, Rhea. I don’t know if I can just forget this. I love you, but… this hurts. It hurts so damn much.”

Rhea stood up, moving closer to the bed, reaching for his hand. “I know, baby. I know. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you if you let me. Just… give me a chance.”

Jey closed his eyes, feeling the weight of everything crushing down on him. He didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he still loved her, and that made everything right… right?

Jey felt his heart shatter a little more as the words hung in the air. “I think we need a break,” he said, the weight of the statement settling heavily on his chest. He tried to mask the turmoil behind his eyes, but Rhea could see through it. She didn’t respond, her silence filling the room with a tension that felt suffocating.

Instead, Rhea slowly got to her feet, her gaze dropping to the floor as she began to gather her things. Jey watched her move, every action a reminder of the love they had built and the fragile state it was in now. She walked over to the closet, her hands trembling as she pulled out a small suitcase.

“I’ll be at a hotel until…” she started, but her voice trailed off. The words hung unspoken, a silent acknowledgment that she didn’t know how long this break would last.

Jey felt a desperate urge to reach out, to tell her to stay. He wanted to scream that he loved her, that they could work through this, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he sat there, a silent observer as she quietly packed her essentials—a few outfits, toiletries, and a couple of personal items that seemed to hold the weight of their shared memories.

His heart raced as he fought with himself, the conflict raging inside him like a storm. He should have been begging her to stay, pleading for her to reconsider. But the hurt was too fresh, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle seeing her every day knowing what he now knew.

Jey forced himself to breathe steadily, trying to make sense of everything. He could still hear her quiet sobs, the sound haunting him as she zipped up the suitcase and glanced at him one last time.

“I’ll text you when I’m settled,” Rhea said softly, her voice thick with emotion.

Jey nodded, feeling the distance between them grow wider with each passing second. He wanted to say something—anything—but the words refused to come. Instead, he watched helplessly as she picked up her bag and moved toward the door.

As Rhea opened it, a gust of air rushed in, carrying with it the finality of their situation. “Rhea..” Jey called out, but the words felt weak, fading as quickly as they were spoken. “It’s just a break..”

She paused, glancing back at him with a mix of hope and sorrow, but then she steeled herself and stepped through the doorway, leaving him in silence.

Jey sank back into the bed, the reality of what he had just done crashing over him like a tidal wave. What the hell did I just do?

He felt as if he had thrown away the most important thing in his life, and now he was left alone with his thoughts and the haunting echoes of their love. He had wanted to protect himself, to shield his heart from further pain, but now all he felt was an emptiness that threatened to consume him.

The room felt colder without her warmth, and he was left grappling with regret, confusion, and a longing for the comfort of her presence. Jey buried his face in his hands, wondering if he had made a terrible mistake. Would this break mean the end of everything they had fought for? Or would it be the catalyst they needed to truly heal?

—

ONE. MONTH. LATER.

December 8th, 2024. 9:19 PM

A month had slipped by since Jey had uttered those fateful words that fractured everything they had built together. Rhea sat in her small weekly unit in Pensacola, a space that felt both foreign and suffocating. The walls around her felt like they were closing in, reminders of a life once filled with laughter and love, now haunted by uncertainty.

Weekly doctor’s appointments had become routine, each visit a reminder of the brain injury that still shadowed her. The doctors spoke in measured tones, offering her reassurance, but Rhea struggled to hear their words over the turmoil in her mind. Her progress was slow, but she pushed herself to attend therapy sessions, believing that maybe—just maybe—she could reclaim the woman she used to be.

The trial against Matt had been pushed back, leaving her with a sense of helplessness as she awaited justice. His charges had escalated, with the DA adding an Attempted Murder charge, the weight of his actions against Jey looming over them like a storm cloud. And as the days rolled on, Trinity and Jon made it their mission to check in on her frequently. They were worried, and Rhea could see it in their eyes.

“You need to be with him, Rhea,” Trinity insisted one evening a week ago, her voice filled with an urgency that struck a chord in Rhea’s heart. “You can’t keep doing this to yourselves.”

Rhea felt torn, her heart yearning for Jey while her mind echoed the doubts and fears that had driven them apart. “It’s not that simple,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jon chimed in, “You both need each other. Whatever happened, you can work through it. Jey’s not the same without you.”

But Rhea’s silence spoke volumes. She had grown accustomed to just doing what needed to be done, to moving through her days in a haze. She focused on her workouts, pushing her body to its limits, believing that if she could become physically stronger, maybe she could heal emotionally. She saw her therapist weekly, but even those sessions felt like a chore, a reminder of the gaping void left by Jey’s absence.

Thanksgiving was especially hard, since she still couldn’t travel, she had decided she was going to make her own dinner. When she found herself picking out the smallest turkey she could find, single servings of sides, a slice of pumpkin pie, she almost broke down while paying for the food. Her family was across the world, Jey’s family was here, it felt almost… unfair. However, after she cooked her own meal, and ate turkey sandwiches for the next few days; she accepted the fact that she was just existing.

Meanwhile, Jey was grappling with his own demons. He had told everyone that Rhea needed to take time for herself due to a family emergency, a convenient lie that shielded him from the truth and the inevitable questions that followed. But deep down, he knew the reality was far more complicated.

When confronted by Jon, Joe, and Joseph that same evening, the truth spilled out like a broken dam. “What really happened, Jey?” Jon pressed, arms crossed, concern etched on his face.

With a heavy heart, Jey shared the details—the argument, the hurtful words, the overwhelming sense of betrayal. “I just thought… I thought it was for the best,” he muttered, his voice strained.

“You made a big mistake, man,” Joe said softly, shaking his head. “You have to fix this.”

“You guys are suspose to be on my side…” Jey snapped, frustration boiling over. But as he glanced at their concerned faces, he realized they were right. He felt the irony of the situation sink in. “If Rhea and Matt had stopped being intimate after they got married, wouldn’t that raise some flags?” Jon’s words echoed in his mind.

“Yeah? Wouldn’t she have to explain why all of sudden she wants to stop having sex with her freshly married husband?” Joe added.

And just like that, Jey was forced to confront a painful truth—maybe he had made a mistake. But pride was a hell of a thing, a bullshit thing, and it prevented him from reaching out. Each night, he found himself crying into his pillow, the weight of his decisions crashing down on him. The emptiness of their home without Rhea felt suffocating.

After two weeks apart, the police finally allowed him to return to their house, the memories of love and laughter replaced by shadows of sorrow. Every day that passed felt like another piece of him was lost to the void, the absence of Rhea gnawing at his insides.

Despite the pain of separation, there was one thing neither of them had been able to part with—their jewelry. Rhea wore Jey’s chain and the one he had gifted her for her birthday, feeling its weight against her chest as a reminder of the love they had shared. She also kept her matching permanent bracelet, engraved with his full name, a token of their bond. The necklace he had given her, containing their miscarried baby’s ashes, hung delicately, its presence both a comfort and a reminder of their loss. And her engagement ring, which also held a portion of their baby’s ashes, was a constant source of warmth, a symbol of the commitment that still lingered between them, even if they had been unable to face it.

As Jey sat alone in their bedroom, the silence pressed in on him. He picked up some of Rhea’s clothing from the bed, clutching it in his hands. The fabric felt foreign yet familiar, the scent of her lingering on the material, a bittersweet reminder of the love they had once celebrated. “What have I done?” he whispered to himself, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. He could hear Rhea’s… no. His and Rhea’s dogs running around in the house and he heard the cat tree fall once more.. Fucking Storm..

Rhea, on the other hand, lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling as the memories washed over her. The weight of the jewelry against her skin was a comforting reminder of what they once had. She closed her eyes, wishing she could turn back time, wishing she could find a way to reach him again.

But for now, they were both trapped in their own silence, desperately yearning for a connection that felt just out of reach.

Rhea remained in that position, but her mind was elsewhere. She grabbed her phone and went to the TikTok app to take her mind off things for a bit. As she scrolled through her phone, the screen lit up with an incoming call from Damian. She hesitated for a moment before answering.

“Hey, Rhea. How are you doing?” Damian’s voice was warm and familiar, cutting through the solitude that had settled over her.

“I’m just here,” Rhea replied, trying to sound nonchalant. “You know, same old.”

Damian let out a sigh. “I think you should just talk to Jey.”

Rhea’s heart twisted at the mention of his name. “If he wanted to be with me, he would come back on his own.”

“Rhea…” he said, his tone softening. “You have no idea what Jey went through when you were in that coma.”

“Don’t use it against me, Damian,” she shot back, her voice sharper than intended.

“I am, and I’m gonna,” he replied, his persistence evident.

Rhea sighed again, feeling the weight of the world pressing down on her. She glanced at the clock; the minutes dragged on like hours. “What do you want me to do? Just sit here and wait?”

“Actually, I’ve got a little surprise for you,” he said, diverting the conversation. “I ordered you something on DoorDash. Just got the alert that it’s been delivered.”

“Damian, you didn’t have to—” she began, but her words trailed off as she felt a flicker of curiosity. “What did you get me?”

“Just go check,” he urged, and Rhea rolled her eyes playfully before getting up from the couch.

As she opened the door, she was met with a brown bag on her doorstep. Confused but intrigued, she grabbed it and returned to the living room, placing it on the mini table. With a quick tear, she opened the bag, spilling its contents onto the table.

“It’s just a bag of KitKats, some chips, and beef jerky,” Rhea stated, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

“Move the KitKats,” Damian instructed, his tone teasing.

Rhea complied, pushing the chocolate aside, and gasped. Beneath the candies lay a small, skinny box that could easily be mistaken for a mascara box.

“What the hell is this?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Pee on it and then FaceTime me the results,” he said nonchalantly.

Rhea laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. “There’s no way I could be pregnant, Damian.”

“I knew you were pregnant the first time. I feel it this time,” he said, his voice earnest.

Rolling her eyes, Rhea picked up the box and read the instructions. “This is ridiculous,” she muttered under her breath.

“Hey, I’ve heard you have sex with Jey. Hearing you pee is a cakewalk,” he teased, and Rhea couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Thanks for that mental image,” she replied sarcastically. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” She balanced the phone on her shoulder and headed to the bathroom.

Once inside, she closed the door and set the phone down on the counter, Damian’s contact picture still visible. “It’s weird having you on the phone while I pee,” she said, trying to focus.

“Just don’t drop the phone in the toilet,” he laughed.

Rhea rolled her eyes again but couldn’t suppress a smile. She finished her business, carefully capping the stick and placing it on the counter. After flushing the toilet and washing her hands, she pressed the FaceTime button, watching as Damian’s face appeared on her screen.

“This is stupid,” she said, shaking her head.

“$500 bucks bet on it,” he replied, his expression serious.

“Deal,” she said, feeling a mix of excitement and trepidation. “How much longer?”

“About 30 seconds,” she replied, glancing at the timer on the stick. “But there’s no way I could be pregnant.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “We’ll see about that.”

Rhea leaned against the bathroom counter, her heart racing. The anticipation hung heavy in the air, mingling with her anxiety and curiosity. As the seconds ticked by, she couldn’t help but wonder what the results would reveal. Would her life take yet another unexpected turn?

As Rhea held the pregnancy test, the words “holy shit” escaped her lips in a stunned whisper. The results were undeniably clear, and the realization sent her heart racing. She held up the stick for Damian to see, and his face broke into a big ass smile, radiating pure joy. “I guess you are $500 richer..”

“I told you I would be here for you no matter what! Now go and tell Jey,” he urged, his excitement infectious.

With a nod, Rhea felt a surge of determination but also an undercurrent of anxiety. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing heart as Damian hung up.

Rhea opened her contacts, locating Jey’s name. Her thumb hovered over the screen as she saw his location displayed at their house. She looked up at the ceiling, speaking to the universe, or maybe just to herself. “Listen, I know I did some fucked-up shit by not telling Jey, but I swear if Jey takes me back, can you lay off all of this chaos? Because I already have a brain injury from a stupid ass mistake that I made. I think we are due for some happiness.”

The thought of finally finding that happiness ignited a flicker of hope within her. She quickly changed into a pair of sweatpants and a jacket, slipping on her Vans before heading out the door.

As she drove, every bump in the road seemed to echo her anxiety. Memories of laughter and warmth mixed with pain and regret replayed in her mind—every moment that had led her to this very point.

Finally, she arrived at the house, her heart pounding with anticipation. But as she approached the front door, she noticed something had changed. The door had been replaced, and a new Ring security camera glinted above her. Figures. Jey wanted his security and privacy now, that’s what happens when you almost lose your life.

Taking a deep breath, she rang the doorbell and waited, her stomach churning with a mix of nerves and excitement. After a few moments, she heard the unmistakable sound of multiple locks unlocking, and then Jey opened the door.

He smiled, but neither of them said anything at first. The silence hung between them, charged with unspoken words and emotions that had built up over the past month.

“Hey,” he finally said, his voice low and inviting.

“Hey,” Rhea replied, her heart racing as she stepped inside, crossing the threshold into the warmth of their shared space. She walked into the house and he closed the door, locking it instantly.

Just like the last time they had been together, that magnetic pull was still there. It was as if no time had passed at all, the invisible thread that had drawn them together in the first place never dissipating, never fading.

Rhea looked up into Jey’s eyes, and before she could think, he closed the distance between them. His lips crashed against hers in a passionate kiss that took her breath away. She melted into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, feeling the familiar comfort of his presence wash over her.

Even though Jey winced slightly from the pain in his right shoulder, he lifted her effortlessly, and she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist. The world outside faded away as he carried her toward the couch, their connection reigniting the spark that had once burned so brightly between them.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured against her lips, his voice filled with longing and relief.

“I missed you too,” Rhea admitted, her heart soaring as he set her down gently on the couch. They stayed locked in each other’s gaze, the chemistry between them palpable.

“Things have changed,” she started, but Jey interrupted her.

“Let’s not talk about the past right now,” he said, brushing his fingers through her hair. “Just let me make love to you..”

Rhea nodded, understanding the unspoken agreement. In that moment, they didn’t need to discuss the chaos that had surrounded them. All that mattered was the two of them, together again, feeling the weight of their shared love.

Jey leaned in again, capturing her lips in another kiss that sent butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She felt alive, ignited by the connection they shared.

“Rhea,” he murmured against her lips, “I need to know… are you okay? Really okay?”

“I am now,” she whispered, her eyes shining with sincerity.

Their foreheads rested against each other, both savoring the moment. Outside, the world continued on, but inside, in their little bubble, everything felt perfect. Together, they would navigate the challenges ahead, and for the first time in a long time, Rhea felt hopeful about the future.

As their lips met once more, the kiss deepened, igniting a wildfire of emotions that had been simmering beneath the surface for far too long. It was a dance of longing and relief, their bodies pressing closer as if they were two pieces of a puzzle finally fitting together. Every ounce of love, regret, and desire poured into that kiss, each brush of their lips speaking volumes.

Jey's hands roamed Rhea's back, fingers tracing her spine as she clung to him, wanting to dissolve into him completely. She felt a surge of warmth radiate from him, and the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of them and the unyielding connection they shared. Rhea moaned softly, feeling a rush of tears as they poured out their pent-up feelings, the relief of being together after everything washing over them like a gentle tide.

After what felt like an eternity, they finally pulled back, breathless and wide-eyed, their foreheads resting against each other. The room was filled with a charged silence, the air thick with unspoken words. They stared at each other, searching for answers in each other's eyes.

Jey brushed his fingers through her hair, tucking a stray strand behind her ear. "I love you," he said softly, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

Rhea's heart skipped a beat at his words.

She could see the sincerity etched on his face, the weight of their shared experiences reflected in his eyes. "I love you too," she whispered, her voice trembling with vulnerability.

A soft smile spread across Jey's face, lighting up his features. "I could never really leave you..”

Rhea felt a rush of warmth envelop her, a mixture of joy and relief flooding her senses.

"I thought I lost you. I was scared... scared of losing everything," she admitted, her voice so afraid of still saying everything.

"You didn't lose me," Jey replied firmly, his grip on her tightening. "I've been here, fighting my own demons, just like you. We're staying in this together now."

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world around them disappeared completely.

The weight of their past seemed to lift, replaced by the promise of a brighter future.

"You gonna’ be my wife Rhea.. you are the ocean and I’m a fish.. I can’t fucking leave you at all… you leave and I die without you..” Jey said while keeping his eyes on her. Rhea looked away for a moment and looked back at him, her heart racing. "Can I show you something?”

Jey nodded, his expression serious yet soft. Rhea bit her lip and she closed her eyes, her face contorted with worry. Jey felt her hand reach into her sweatpants, she pulled out something and Jey didn’t freak out. Not like the first time in Portland. She showed the pregnancy test to Jey and he took it and saw the word, ‘Pregnant’. Jey smiled softly. He set the pregnancy test on the coffee table and turned back to look at her.

"I promise. Whatever it takes, we'll face it together."

As they leaned in once more, the kiss resumed, this time filled with a sense of hope and renewal. Rhea felt as though they were both being reborn in that moment, the barriers that had once held them back crumbling away. It was more than just a physical connection; it was a reaffirmation of their love, a promise of commitment that they were both ready to embrace.

With every kiss, every touch, Rhea knew they were building a new foundation, one that was stronger and more resilient than before. They would navigate whatever chaos lay ahead, hand in hand, heart in heart. Rhea kicked off her shoes and Jey reached to pull down her sweatpants and she was able to finish shrugging them off. Jey yearned for her skin, the feeling her, he had missed her so much.

Now.. for the first time in a long time, he was going to make love to the mother of his future children. Jey sucked on Rhea’s neck so passionately as he put a hand underneath her shirt to feel her breasts. Rhea moaned as Jey sucked passionately on her neck and Rhea’s nails pierced into his back. They were determined, they needed each other, needed to prove to each other that they still wanted each other. Jey finally pulled back, satisfied with the mark he left on her neck, Jey moved down and pushed up her shirt as his lips connected with her nipple. Rhea licked her palm and she stuck her hand down in her thong and rubbed her pussy. She spread her legs more as she felt Jey and his… manhood.

As Jey sucked on her breast, an urgent voice was produced from Rhea, “Please fuck me..” Jey smiled. “Tell me what you need..” Jey commanded. “Make love to me..” Rhea said softly, correcting herself.

Jey quickly pulled his briefs down just a bit and both of them were so engrossed in the moment when they both heard a throat clearing

“Maybe I should go home to Trinity..”

Rhea and Jey peaked over the sofa as Jon stood there, his eyes widened and in shock.

“Ugh… actually… I’m a bit …” Jey wanted to say exposed but the he was afraid of what Jon would say. Jon quickly covered his eyes with one hand and used the free hand to walk his way to the door, with a swift exit Jon left.

“Imma be honest… I forgot Jon was here..” Jey admitted.

“We will deal with this after just fuck me right now.” Rhea demanded and Jey nodded ever so quickly, he kissed her again and he reached to pull his dick out of his briefs, the two kissed passionately as Jey thrusted into her, “Ahhh.. oh..ohhh oh fuck..” Rhea cried against Jey’s lips as she held on to Jey.

“I fucking.. missed you .. so fucking much..” Jey said in between groans as he kept thrusting into Rhea, with every thrust it was more powerful. Rhea moaned every time Jey hit the end of her.

“How are you so… tight?” Jey asked as he was struggling to keep up his pace.

“I only rubbed myself all this month..” she said while giving him a snarky grin.

“Bad girl..” He groaned and he used a free hand to cup her cheek and Rhea kissed his thumb. She then stuck out her tongue to lick his thumb and then she wrapped her mouth around it. She loved to tease Jey. Jey pulled her close as he thrusted deeper, “Baby don’t drag it on.. hurry and cum..” Rhea said.

“Ride me real quick..” Jey said and Rhea nodded. He pulled her up using his good arm and Rhea adjusted herself on him to make sure she was comfortable. Rhea rose up and down, gravitating her hips to find Jey’s sweet spot. After a very few moments, Jey soon found hisself reaching his climax and Rhea could feel him.

Then it happened, Jey came. Now it wasn’t as passionate but to Rhea, the discomfort she had experienced was now relieved. Rhea kissed him softly as she slowly got up from him. Afterward, Rhea lay back against the couch, her chest rising and falling as she tried to catch her breath. The tension between her and Jey, from their long separation, had melted away in the heat of the moment. Both Jey and Rhea pulled on their underwear and fixed themselves.

Jey sat up slightly, his eyes focused on her with a bit of curiosity. “Why’d you tell me to hurry up, babe?” he asked, his tone light but laced with concern.

Rhea hesitated, not wanting to ruin the moment. She felt her body tense slightly, but she sighed and decided to be honest. “I felt some… discomfort,” she admitted, her voice soft.

Jey’s brow furrowed, and he immediately shifted closer to her, his hand resting gently on her thigh. “Was I going too hard?” he asked, his voice laced with genuine worry.

She gave a small, embarrassed smile. “Yeah, a little,” she replied. “But don’t read too much into it. It’s just… it’s been a month since we last did anything.”

Jey nodded, his expression softening as he leaned in and kissed her tenderly. “I get it,” he said, reassuring her with his touch. “But you used to like it when I went deep,” he teased, trying to bring a playful smile back to her face.

Rhea chuckled, nudging him lightly. “Don’t push your luck, Uce.”

Jey grinned, satisfied with her response. He kissed her again, a softer, more intimate kiss this time. When he pulled back, he seemed to be contemplating something for a moment before he stood up and grabbed his briefs. Rhea adjusted her bra and she fixed her underwear.

“Wanna see something?” Jey asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Rhea arched a brow in curiosity while sitting up. “What is it?”

Jey didn’t answer directly. Instead, he reached out his hand for her, and she took it, following him through the house. He led her down the hall to the third guest bedroom, which doubled as Jeyce’s room whenever he stayed with them.

Jey pushed open the door, revealing a surprise. In the corner of the room sat a 61-key electric piano. It gleamed under the soft light, simple yet beautiful. Rhea’s eyes widened, surprised. “When did you get this?”

Jey smiled as he walked over to the piano, running his hand across the keys. “Jeyce wanted to learn how to play, so I got it for him.”

Rhea stepped closer, her fingers brushing lightly against the sleek surface. “I didn’t know you could play.”

Jey chuckled, pulling out the bench and sitting down. “One of my hidden talents,” he admitted, flashing her a grin.

Rhea’s eyes lit up. “Play something for me.”

Jey’s smile grew as he reached for a music book stashed on the side of the piano. He flipped through the pages for a moment before landing on a song he knew well. With a quick glance at Rhea, he positioned his hands on the keys and began to play.

As the soft melody filled the room, Rhea felt her heart skip a beat. It took her a moment to recognize the song, but once she did, it hit her like a wave of nostalgia. It was “Young and Beautiful” by Lana Del Rey, the same song Jey had sung to her when she woke from her coma.

The song echoed in her memory, bringing her back to that fragile, intimate moment between them when she had opened her eyes and found him beside her, singing softly through the haze of her recovery. It was a reminder of how far they had come, and how much they had been through together.

Rhea stood still, frozen in her tracks as she watched Jey play. His fingers moved gracefully across the keys, the sound of the piano filling the room with emotion. She felt tears well up in her eyes, but she didn’t fight them. This was them—this was their love, raw and unspoken, shared through moments like these.

Jey finished the song, his fingers gently pressing the last note as he looked up at her, his eyes searching hers. Rhea stepped closer, sitting beside him on the piano bench, her heart swelling with love for the man beside her.

“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.

Jey smiled softly, his hand finding hers. “Only for you, button nose..” he said, squeezing her hand gently.

In that quiet room, with the lingering notes of the piano still hanging in the air, they sat in silence, simply existing in the comfort of each other’s presence. There was still so much left unspoken between them, but in that moment, it didn’t matter. This was enough.

—

The next day, as Rhea and Jey were on their way back from picking up Rhea’s clothes from her rental, Jey’s eyes caught sight of a Christmas tree farm they hadn’t noticed before. Without a word, he turned the wheel and pulled into the lot.

Rhea looked up from her phone, confused. “What are we doing here?” she asked, her brows furrowing as she took in the rows of trees, glowing lights, and a few families wandering about.

Jey gave her a grin. “Since the last two holidays have been shit for us,” he said, his voice firm with a hint of playfulness, “we���re going all out on Christmas this year.”

Rhea’s surprise quickly turned into a soft smile. There was something in the way Jey was trying, trying for them, trying for this moment. “You’re really serious about this?”

“Dead serious,” Jey said, pulling his jacket tighter around himself as he opened the door to step out.

Rhea chuckled and followed his lead, slipping her phone into her pocket and pulling on her jacket. She exited the jeep and joined Jey as they made their way towards the entrance, the Pensacola weather nipping at their skin. She shivered slightly as Jey draped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer as they walked side by side.

The moment they reached the farm’s entrance, a friendly-looking tree salesman approached them with a wide smile. “How are y’all doing today?” he asked, his eyes quickly recognizing the famous couple in front of him.

“We’re okay,” Jey said, returning the smile. Rhea nodded in agreement beside him.

The salesman glanced between them, his grin widening. “What kind of tree are you folks lookin’ for?”

Rhea looked up at Jey with a playful twinkle in her eye. “I’ve always wanted a big one. A really big one.”

Jey chuckled, his hand rubbing her back gently. “Yeah, we’re thinking something huge,” he agreed.

The salesman’s face lit up. “Only the best for the best wrestlers there are, huh?”

Jey and Rhea couldn’t help but smile at that. It was strange sometimes to realize how recognizable they were, but in moments like this, it felt nice.

The salesman motioned for them to follow him, leading them deeper into the rows of trees. “I think I’ve got just the one for y’all.”

They followed him past dozens of trees, some large, some small, but nothing that really caught their eye. Then, he stopped in front of one particularly massive tree. It stood about twelve feet tall and had a full, round shape with thick branches, perfect for holding lights and ornaments. It was full of character—imposing, yet somehow cozy.

Jey and Rhea both stared at the tree in awe.

Rhea was the first to break the silence. “That’s the one,” she said, her voice almost reverent.

Jey nodded, a grin spreading across his face. “Yeah, that’s it.”

The salesman smiled, clearly pleased with their reaction. “Good choice. You want me to strap it on your jeep?”

“How much for the tree and strapping it?” Jey asked, reaching for his wallet, knowing how massive the tree was and how it might be a hassle to handle.

The salesman waved him off with a laugh. “Nonsense! Anything for you, Mr. Uso. Consider it on the house.”

Jey chuckled as he put his wallet away. “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

Rhea smiled and she saw the QR code for Donations, she quickly captured on her phone and as the link to her to the site, she made $300 donation to the tree farm.

As they watched the salesman and his crew carefully lift the tree and start tying it down on the top of the jeep, Rhea looked up at Jey. There was a warmth in her chest, a comfort she hadn’t felt in months. “I guess this is our thing now, huh? Going all out for Christmas.”

Jey looked down at her and smiled. “Yeah, this is our thing. We need this.”

Rhea leaned into him, feeling a little bit of hope rekindle. This was a new beginning for them, or at least a step in the right direction.

—

Jon and Trinity sat in their car, engine idling, as they waited outside of Jey and Rhea’s house. The crisp air carried the hint of the season, and they could see their breath as they chatted quietly. Jon checked his phone, glancing at the time before turning to Trinity.

“You think we should tell them tonight?” Trinity asked, her voice filled with excitement, yet tempered by the weight of the moment. “It feels like the right time.”

Jon nodded. “Yeah, it’s only fair. They’ve been through a lot. Plus, they should be the first to know.”

Just as he spoke, the familiar sight of Rhea’s jeep pulling into the driveway brought a smile to both of their faces. But that smile quickly turned into disbelief as Jon caught sight of the massive tree strapped to the top of the vehicle.

“What the fuck?” Jon muttered under his breath, eyes widening at the sight of the enormous, bent Christmas tree practically swallowing the jeep.

Trinity sighed, shaking her head with a smirk. “Ugh, you and Jey are your own breed, I swear. Only y’all would do something this extra.”

As Jey and Rhea hopped out of the jeep, they approached Jon and Trinity with grins on their faces. Jey stretched his good arm, clearly pleased with their haul. “What’s up, Uce’?” Jey called, clearly amused by his brother’s reaction.

Jon pointed at the tree with disbelief still etched on his face. “Bruh, what did you do? Did you cut that thing down yourself?”

Rhea laughed, slipping her arm around Jey. “I always wanted a big tree, and well… we got one.”

Jey raised his eyebrow at her playfully. “She ain’t lyin’.”

Trinity stepped out of the car, shaking her head. “Y’all are something else. I’m guessing you need help getting this monster inside?”

Jey nodded, rubbing his shoulder. “Yeah, I ain’t lifting this beast with this bum arm.”

Jon rolled his eyes but smiled. “Alright, let’s do this.” He walked over to the jeep and immediately started helping Jey with the ropes holding the tree down.

Rhea unlocked the front door and swung it open as wide as it would go, making space for the enormous tree. “You guys got this, right?” she teased, stepping aside as Jon and Jey began maneuvering the massive tree toward the house.

Trinity stood by the door, directing them as they struggled to fit the tree inside without knocking over anything in the hallway. Rhea quickly moved the small hallway table out of the way, clearing as much space as possible. The sound of grunting and shuffling filled the house as Jon and Jey pushed the tree through the entryway, finally positioning it against the far wall where they had planned to place it.

As they stepped back, Rhea’s face lit up with joy. “It’s perfect!” she exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

Trinity, ever the realist, eyed the top of the tree, then looked at Rhea with a raised eyebrow. “Rhea… it’s bent. Like really bent.”

Jon and Jey exchanged glances, following her gaze to the top of the tree. Sure enough, the last four feet of the tree were completely bent against the ceiling, making it look a little… lopsided.

Jey let out a laugh, nudging Rhea. “Babe… did you know it was gonna do that?”

Rhea smiled sheepishly, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Yup. I knew it was gonna bend.”

Jey tilted his head, folding his arms as he tried to figure her out. “So, uh… why exactly did you want a bent tree?”

Rhea’s grin grew wider as she looked at all of them. “It looks like the Whoville tree from The Grinch!”

As they stood around admiring their crooked Christmas tree, Jey stepped over to Rhea, wrapping his good arm around her waist. “This year… we’re doing it big.”

After Rhea finished explaining her love for the bent Christmas tree, comparing it to the Whoville tree from The Grinch, she turned to Trinity with a mischievous smile. “We need decorations! And I’m thinking… the full-on Grinch theme of course!”

Trinity raised an eyebrow, but her smile grew wide. “Of course you’d want a Grinch tree. That fits way too perfectly.”

Rhea grinned back. “Come on, we’re doing this! You’re coming with me to Hobby Lobby, right?”

Trinity shook her head playfully. “Yeah, okay. I need some stuff for my tree anyway. But don’t expect me to get all Grinch-y.”

The two of them grabbed their jackets, and with a final wave to Jon and Jey, headed out the door. Jey exchanged a glance with Jon as they left.

Jon raised an eyebrow. “You good?”

Jey chuckled, already anticipating Jon avoiding the couch after yesterday’s close call. “Yeah, help me out, and don’t even think about touching this couch.”

Jon laughed, shaking his head as he helped Jey adjust his position. “Yeah, man, not trying to get your babies on me..” The two brothers laughed.

With Rhea and Trinity on their mission to deck the halls, Jey and Jon finally settled into the living room. Jey leaned back, gingerly adjusting his shoulder, while Jon stretched out on the love seat.

“Think they’re really gonna pull off this Grinch Christmas thing?” Jon asked, his eyes drifting to the massive, crooked tree in the corner.

Jey smirked, looking over at the tree. “Man, Rhea’s determined. If she wants a Grinch Christmas, we’re getting a Grinch Christmas.”

Jon chuckled, shaking his head. “Well, I’m ready for it. I can tell this is gonna be one for the books.”

Jey nodded, a softer smile forming as he stared at the tree. “Yeah, it’s been a while since I’ve seen her this happy. It feels good.”

Jon leaned back, studying his brother for a moment. He wanted to tell Jey about the good news he and Trinity had, but it didn’t feel like the right time. They’d wait—maybe after the holidays. Right now, Jey and Rhea needed this lighthearted moment to themselves.

At Hobby Lobby, Rhea was practically buzzing with excitement as she pulled into the parking lot. “I’m loving everything,” she said, already imagining how the tree would look. “The tree should be green, red, and a little chaotic.”

Trinity laughed as they grabbed a cart and walked inside. “You’re really embracing the Whoville look, huh?”

Rhea smirked. “Of course! Go big or go home, right?”

As they wandered through the aisles, Rhea tossed everything Grinch-related into the cart—green garlands, ornaments with Grinch faces, and even a fuzzy green tree skirt. Trinity browsed the more traditional decorations, shaking her head at Rhea’s selections but smiling the whole time.

“I swear, your tree is going to look insane,” Trinity said, holding up a red and white ornament for her own tree.

Rhea nodded proudly. “That’s the goal. I want this Christmas to be unforgettable. After everything we’ve been through this year… we deserve something fun.”

Trinity’s smile softened, appreciating how much this meant to Rhea. “You do deserve it. You and Jey both. I’m just so glad you guys are back together…”

As they continued shopping, Trinity thought about the news she and Jon were keeping from Jey and Rhea. She’d wanted to share it, but now didn’t feel like the right time. Rhea was so focused on creating this perfect Christmas, and Trinity didn’t want to shift the focus away from that—at least, not yet.

“So, what are you going for with your tree?” Rhea asked, snapping Trinity out of her thoughts.

“Something simple. Red and white, I think. Not as… out there as yours,” Trinity said with a grin.

Rhea laughed, holding up a Grinch head ornament. “Yeah, well, I’ve got the ‘out there’ part covered.”

They both laughed as they piled more decorations into the cart. As they checked out, Rhea’s excitement was contagious, and Trinity couldn’t help but feel grateful to be a part of this moment. For now, the joy of the holidays was all that mattered. And once they returned home, they’d help turn Rhea’s Grinch vision into reality.

—

“It’s perfect!” Rhea exclaimed as Jon placed the final Grinch ornament at the very top of the towering, bent tree, carefully balancing himself on the ladder. Her eyes sparkled as she stepped back to take in the full view of her masterpiece.

Trinity and Jey stood nearby, both a little astonished by how fully the Grinch theme had come to life. The tree, decorated with an explosion of green, red, and whimsical, chaotic ornaments, looked like it had been pulled straight out of Whoville. From the fuzzy green ornanments to the mischievous Grinch faces scattered throughout, the holiday spirit was alive in a way only Rhea could have imagined.

Jey chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief but admiring Rhea’s joy. He moved closer to her, slipping his good arm around her waist. “Whatever you want, babe,” he said, his voice soft but full of affection as he kissed her temple. He couldn’t help but smile seeing her so genuinely happy after everything they’d been through.

Trinity nodded in agreement, though she was still taken aback by the Grinch overload. “I gotta admit, I didn’t think this would work, but you pulled it off.”

Jon climbed down the ladder, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Yeah, I wasn’t sure about that bent tree, but now… it kinda works,” he said, grinning.

Rhea beamed with pride, stepping forward to adjust one of the ornaments. “See? I told you it would look like the tree from The Grinch. I wanted something different, something memorable.”

Jey leaned down, his lips brushing her ear as he whispered, “You always make things memorable.” His words carried a deeper meaning, but Rhea only smiled and leaned into his side.

—

Trinity carefully served hot cocoa into four individual mugs, setting a little bowl of chocolate chips, chocolate mints, and marshmallows on the tray. She brought it over to the coffee table where Rhea, Jon, and Jey sat, watching Monday Night Raw. The Intercontinental Championship tournament flashed across the screen, a reminder of how Jey had to step down due to the shooting.

Rhea, snuggled up to Jey, sprinkled chocolate mints and a few marshmallows into her mug while sipping the warm drink. Jon and Trinity exchanged whispers, their voices too quiet to be overheard, and shared knowing glances.

Jey finally glanced at them, raising an eyebrow. “What’s on your mind, Uce’?”

Trinity smiled, placing a kiss on Jon’s cheek before turning to the group. “We’ve got some good news,” she said, her eyes sparkling.

Rhea, curious, set her mug down and leaned in. “Good news?”

With a proud smile, Trinity blurted, “I’m having a little Uce!”

The room lit up as Rhea screamed in excitement, jumping up to hug Trinity. “Oh my god, that’s incredible!” she exclaimed, squeezing her tightly. Jey, smiling wide, nodded toward Jon, clasping his shoulder in congratulations.

But before the moment could fully sink in, Rhea turned to Jey, eyes wide with excitement. “We are too,” she said, her voice breathless.

Trinity and Jon froze, their smiles turning into stunned expressions. “What?” Trinity asked, her eyes flicking between Rhea and Jey.

Rhea quickly jumped up from the couch and darted into the bedroom. In seconds, she was back, clutching a pregnancy test in her hand. She held it out for Jon and Trinity to see, her eyes glowing with excitement.

Jon blinked, speechless for a moment, before a huge grin spread across his face. Trinity’s hand shot to her mouth, tears welling up in her eyes as she looked at the positive test. “No way,” she whispered, her voice shaky with emotion. “Rhea, oh my god!”

Jey wrapped his arm around Rhea, pulling her close as he smiled at Jon and Trinity. The joy was palpable, filling the room with an overwhelming sense of happiness and hope for the future.

Now, both couples were celebrating a new chapter together—a double dose of good news, as two babies were on the way.

Author’s Note: I decided to give you guys a break and give you a happy chapter! But not for long:) I’m so happy for the all the feedback I’ve recieved in the previous chapters and I love each and every one of you! But hey man! I didn’t think I’d have Trinity and Rhea pregnant at the same time! But will it last… lol jk… or am I… am I not ? 😂😂😂🤦🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️🩷