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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

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moth to a flame

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, praise, body worship, eye contact, public sex act, dry humping, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your friend invites you to a bonfire where you meet a man who knows you better than you think. plus! reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: this is my first of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Natasha is the coolest person you know. Probably the coolest person most people will ever meet; if they have the privilege. So it is that you wonder how she’s your friend. It’s really too good to be true which is why you can’t help but feel a bit enamoured by her.

It has to be real though. If you’re not friends, she wouldn’t invite you to her annual bonfire. A sacred tradition for her, or so you’ve heard. A gathering of all her closest friends. They are truly elite company. Not just your everyday schmucks, but The Avengers.

You’re sure you’ll seem a bit lame walking up with your basket of pumpkin muffins home-made cider. Still, you were taught to always bring something with you. Though it does provide an obstacle to getting to the front door smoothly.

You carry the large glass jug of cider by the metal handle as you hug the basket to your side. You struggle you hit the lock button on your keys and stop short as the cider sloshes around dangerously and throws your balance. As you try to correct yourself, footsteps scuff up behind you.

“Need help?” The deep voice is like silk.

You look over your shoulder, nearly tipping over as you do. The stranger manages to scoop up the basket before you tip it and you giggle in embarrassment. You sigh and let him take it from you.

Oh, he’s not a stranger. Well, you know his name, even if you don’t know him. Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier. One of Natasha’s many high-profile friends. Again, you ask yourself how you ended up there.

“Oop, thanks so much,” you say. “I should’ve made two trips.”

“No problem,” he assures you. “You a friend of Nat’s?”

“Uh, yeah,” you smile, turning back up the walk as he keeps stride with you. “New friend, I guess.”

“Friend is a friend. She only keeps me around because I made friends with a string bean back in 1930.” He chuckles.

“You mean--” You stop yourself and look away. You don't want to come off as a fangirl that quick. “Uh, well, we met at an event. She was teaching self-defense for the woman’s shelter.”

“Oh, you work there?” He asks.

You keep your eyes off of him, “I lived there. Not anymore.”

“Ah, well, that’s good? You’re in a better place?” He asks.

You nod, “much better.” You swallow and exhale. “I know who you are. You’re Bucky Barnes.”

“I’m never gonna get used to that,” he scoffs. “Takes the excitement out of meeting new people.”

“Oh, sorry, I...” you trail off before your nerves can break through.

You don’t think Natasha would ever have become your friend if she knew you were such a geek about her other friends. Cap and Iron Man and even Thor. They were the real-life heroes that inspired you to be your own. And it was a poster of Steve Rogers himself that sparked the last fight that led to you leaving your ex.

“It’s fine, so, do I get a name? Unfortunately, I don’t have the whole mind-reading thing going on,” he knocks on the heavy door as you shift the jug in your grip. You give your name as you peek over at him sheepishly. “These smell...” he lifts the basket and takes a whiff, “delicious.”

“I hope they are. My first time using my apartment stove. It’s gas. I’m used to electric,” you explain. “Uh, pumpkin muffins, if that’s what you were asking. Sorry, I...” you turn to the door and rub your lips together, “if I’m honest, I’m super nervous.”

“Nervous?” He echoes. “About?”

“Well, I’m not the greatest with crowds. Especially since the shelter... ugh, I don’t know why I keep bringing that up.” You cringe, “but uh, just... new people. I guess.”

“Ah,” he nods and teeters on his treads, knocking again, “damn it, Nat, what the hell are ya doin?” He grumbles. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m not really a people person either. The arm... it’s quite the ice breaker.” He sniffs, “I hate talking about the goddamn thing.”

“Um, yeah, that would be... awkward,” you utter.

The door opens before he can respond. You’re glad for it. You hadn’t thought about it but now all you can think of is if his arm has a built-in can opener.

“Oh, he-eyyyy,” Natasha stutters as her eyes flit between you and Bucky, “you’re here. Both of you. At the same time?”

“Uhhh, yeah,” you peek at Bucky.

“Ran into each other a few steps back. You’re shit at introducing people, Natty.”

She rolls her eyes and waves him off. She turns to you. “Wow, and what’s all this?”

“I brought cider and--”

“Muffins,” Bucky finishes for you as he lifts the basket higher. “I’m not much of a baker.”

“Or a guest,” she retorts. “That’s so amazing, thank you.” She reaches to take the basket, “come on, I’ll show you around. Bucky, I think you already know where the litter box is.”

Bucky tuts and shakes his head, “nice seeing you too.” He follows you in and faces you, “try to enjoy yourself. I know she’s a bit of a party pooper. Even if she is the host.”

“With guests like you, how can I not be,” Natasha trills and beckons you onward, “don’t worry about your shoes. We’ll most be outside so I’ll do a full sweep and mop tomorrow.” She turns and struts away.

Your eyes creep down her hour glass figure. You feel like a pervert as you do but you can’t help it. Even in a flannel and jeans, her body is perfect. The cowl neck of your red sweater and your corduroy feels a little less cute.

“You made these yourself?” She asks as she leads you into a large kitchen.

There’s a square island with a hardwood top and matching counters and cupboards; the tile is burgundy with black iron accents. You marvel as you compare it in your head to your boxy apartment with the peeling laminate and squeaky faucets.

“Uh, yeah,” you answer as you lift the jug of cider onto the counter. “Apple cider and pumpkin muffins.”

“You are too sweet. I have to admit, I got catering for tonight. I'm no good in a kitchen,” she chuckles. “Lived off of Hydra rations for so long, I can’t do much more than open a can or vacuum seal.”

“Oh, right. Nothing fancy,” you shrug. “You know, I just found the recipes online. Got some apples from the farmers’ market... I don’t know if it’s any good.”

“I’m sure it’s all delicious. Bet the cider would be great with some whiskey,” her voice is smokey as she smirks. “Wanna put that theory to the test?”

“Um, if you want. I’m okay either way.”

“I won’t blame you if you need some liquid courage before facing the rest. Work friends can be a bit much,” she chuckles. “Besides, I have a bottle that’s been sitting in my cabinet for too long.”

“Sure,” you accept, not wanting to be rude. And she’s right. You need something to take the edge off.

She hums as she leaves the muffins next to the jug and she spins to the cupboard. She takes out two glasses that resemble jars and a dark bottle of liquor. You watch her put it all together with ice and a cinnamon stick to boot.

“May as well get some before the rest devour it,” she slides a glass toward you and lifts the other, “cheers.”

You smile and clink her glass. You taste it and your cheeks pinch. The cider is good but you can definitely taste the whiskey. You hold back a cough and cover your mouth.

“I am just rewarming the hors d’oevres but if you want to wait, I can introduce you to everyone.”

Heat roils from the oven as it glows from within and there are trays waiting for serving. She’s already put so much in. You don’t want to make her day even more strenuous. After all, she didn’t have to invite you.

“No, it’s... you’re busy but if you need help.”

“Don’t be crazy. You’re a guest. Go, enjoy the party. I’ll be out shortly. Everything’s mostly out there already.”

“Okay, but um, I can take the muffins at least.”

“Alright,” she agrees.

You grab the basket and go to the door. You pause as you realise you don’t know where you’re going. Natasha laughs again.

“Other way, back door is right on the other side of me,” she sweeps around the kitchen swiftly.

“Right,” you turn back and cross the tile; one arm around the basket, your other hand cradling your glass. You push outside with your shoulder and step out onto the deck.

There’s a long table of snacks as promised. You go to it and put down the basket as you dare to glance up at the guests speckled around the yard. Pairs and trios stand in the grass and around the already crackling fire. They all seem to know each other and you recognise quite a few of them.

“Buns?” The question has you lurching in surprise as you face another partygoer.

“Oh, uh, no, muffins,” you lift the lid to show the contents. “Pumpkin.”

“Oooh,” the blond grins. The golden hair, the square jaw, broad shoulders; how could you mistake Captain America? “Can I try?”

“Of course. I brought them for everyone,” you smile and tightly clutch your glass of cider. “You’re... Captain America.”

“Ha, well, not here. I prefer Steve,” he takes out a muffin and peels away the liner. “And you’re... one of Xavier’s recruits?”

“Xavier? Who—no. I’m...” you introduce yourself as he sinks his teeth in to the muffin. Your stomach flips. What if it’s bad? “Natasha’s friend. Erm, I guess that’s what we all are but nope, I’m just me. Just a... civilian?”

He laughs, “just a civilian? Damn good baker. I don’t go for pumpkin often but this is amazing.”

“Really?” You beam and bounce on your toes.

“Oh, yeah--”

“Save some for the rest of us, punk,” Bucky comes up from behind Steve. “Just like him to be chatting up the cutest girl at the party. What line did he use?”

“Line? I’m just having a muffin,” Steve grimaces.

“Mm, muffins,” Bucky reaches in front of his friend to claim a treat of his own, “was waiting on these.”

He eyes your glass of cider and you take a sip. You pull your lips off the brim and gulp, “oh, the rest is inside if you want some.”

“She made that too,” Bucky points at your cup. “Who knew Natasha had cool friends?”

You giggle, “no, I’m not... just muffins.”

“Good muffins,” Bucky says through a mouthful, “mmm.”

“Might be good to hide them,” Steve remarks as he gives Bucky the side eye.

“Hey, these two meatheads giving you trouble?” Another figure approaches from the back door. You turn as Tony stark flips up his dark sunglasses. He sports a red velvet jacket with collar popped.

Bucky’s lips thin and Steve shakes his head, “you’re late,” the latter rebukes.

“It’s a party, capsicle. Chill. Wait, don’t do that. We might not see you for another seventy years.”

Steve scowls and takes another bite of his muffin. Bucky picks at his own and looks away. You nervously glance between them all.

“Tony Stark,” the new arrival offers his hand, “but you already know that, don’t you, sweetheart? So who are you?”

“Charming,” Steve comments.

“It’s called getting to the point, Rogers. Some of us aren’t gonna wait around until they’re in the nursing home.”

Steve growls and Bucky nudges him. The blond nods and looks at you, “I’ll see ya around.”

“Sure,” you accept. Bucky waves with two fingers and follows Steve’s retreat. You turn back to Tony and shake his hand as you recite your name. “Nice to meet you.”

“Natasha didn’t say this was a meet-cute,” he winks.

“Ummm,” you glance around nervously.

“Teasing ya. You look lost. You want the low-down on the dweebs,” he flicks his index towards the grass. “Now, you see, that kid right there, that’s Parker. His alias is top secret. For his safety. He might blurt it out anyway. And that’s his buddy Miles,” he points at to younger guests. “Someone should really separate them. We don’t need a mess.”

He snickers and puts his arm around you as he moves you toward the top step of the deck, “and there’s the mighty God of Thunder. We all know the puppy dog, and then there’s his stray cat of a brother. Trust me, I tried to have him ejected into space but apparently, they can survive that.”

He tuts. “And there’s Bruce, good guy. When he’s calms. And Brock. Real question mark, that guy. Maria, Coulson, Sam, Strange; the better Steve if you ask me. And Wanda, her husband; I made him, his name is Vision but I guess Victor is more ‘human’.”

He runs his hand up your arm as he pulls you closer, “there’s Charles, he prefers Professor, and his group of ragtag individuals. I could tell you their names but I’m already bored. Oh, except that one, the angry one with the swoopy hair. That’s Logan. Leave him alone. He’s even worse than the bozo with the vibranium arm.

“Now, T’Challa has more important things to do so we don’t got anyone else worth mentioning,” he drags his hand down your sleeve then lets go, “I’m sure you’ll be tired of all of us before the night’s done. I assure you, heroes save people, not the vibe.”

He clicks his tongue and jumps off the top step. You watch him strut off and you stare after him. There’s a lot more people than you expected. Familiar but still strangers.

The only good thing is there’s more than enough guests for you to fade into the background. You’re tempted to go back in and offer to help Natasha. You know better than that. She always sees right through you. She’ll know immediately that you’re just hiding from social interaction.

🔥

The night wears on into darkness. The large pit burns brightly as voices buzz and shadows waver. You stand watching the lick of flames, unnoticed amid the furor. Or so you think.

“Hey, there’s cider left,” Bucky appears at your side, his sleeve brushing yours. “Got you a top up.”

“Oh, that’s... nice.” You accept the glass as he holds another for himself. “You didn’t have to.”

“You look... lonely. I don’t know. Felt bad. You went to all that trouble and you’re wading through this sea of people you don’t know.” He shrugs. “Hate these things myself. I just came ‘cause Nat asked. Well, she tells. You know, you can’t say no to her.”

“Ha, yeah,” you agree. She isn’t just strong-willed, she’s intimidating.

“I usually end up just drifting around until everyone’s distracted, then I dip,” he explains. “Or find somewhere quiet.” He quiets to take a sip, “how about it? Everyone’s out here, there’s a sofa up on the deck.” Your teeth chatter as you try to taste the cider, “and A blanket.”

“Mm, it said it wasn’t supposed to get cold,” you look down embarrassed. You finally get a mouthful. It’s sweeter than before. Maybe because there’s no whiskey.

“Huh, well, you don’t gotta hang out with a boring old man like me. Just figured I’d offer,” he says.

“Thanks, that’s nice.”

“Well, I can be nice when I want to,” he raises his glass slightly and turns away.

As he marches off, you watch his back. Your eyes wander around. No one else even notices you. They’re all so wrapped up in each other. Even Natasha’s barely stopped to chat.

“Wait,” you call after Bucky, “I could sit down.”

He stops and turns as you scurry after him. The fire light flickers and limns the sharp angles of his face. He waits until your right beside him to continue on.

“So, you already know what I do for work. What about you?” He asks as you climb the steps in tandem.

“I’m a cashier,” you answer. “I work at a pet store.”

“Hm, I like animals,” he leads you to the sofa. You can see the glow of the fire but the voices aren’t so raucous from up there.

“Yeah, we mostly just have birds and hamsters there. Nothing very big. It’s a small place,” you explain. “I... It’s a new job.” You keep yourself from mentioning that the shelter helped you find it. It’s not really what you want to do forever, but it’s something.

“Still, that’s nice. You get to help people in your own way. Make sure they can spoil their pet,” he leans back as he balances his glass over one knee and you drink deeply from your own. “I got a cat. Demanding. A bit abusive.” He laughs then chokes on it. “Jeez, I’m sorry. That was a bad joke.”

You shake your head, “no, it’s not... really. I’m not upset.”

“You sure?” He angles towards you.

“Yeah, really. I can handle it,” you say.

He nods and hums, “yeah, I’m sure you’ve dealt with worse than words.”

You’re silent as you look down at the cup. You take another sip. He clears his throat as he shifts in the seat. He reaches back to put slide his phone from the back of his jeans. He leans forward to place it on the table.

“Ugh,” he sits back. “Better.”

You smile, “well, you don’t just work, do you? When did you get your cat?”

“Oh, she just made herself at home really. It wasn’t exactly a conscious or willing choice,” he laughs. You fold one arm around your middle and shiver again. “Ah, where’s that blanket--”

He reaches to the back of the couch and pulls down the blanket. It hits his glass and he loses grip of both. He huffs as he soaks the flannel in cider.

“Damn,” he stands and holds out the sopping blanket before it can drip onto him or the couch. “Just like me. Hold on. I’ll go get another blanket and clean this up.”

He untangles the cup from the blanket and sidles past you. You sit back silently as he heads for the back door. You glance over and consider sneaking over to the table to pick at the leftovers. Instead, you huddle down against another evening breeze.

You finish all but a mouthful of side and reach to place it on the wooden table. His phone lights up and draws your attention. You blink as your eyes instinctively find the screen. You get a glimpse of the wallpaper right before it goes dark again. Huh?

You shake off what you think you saw and the phone lights up again. You lean over and sink your teeth around the gasp that threatens to spill out. That can’t be.

You check over your shoulder before you reach for the phone. You tap the side button and gape at your own image staring back at you. There’s a chat bubble floating on the front screen; new messages. You tap and expand the preview. It’s from Nat; ‘you find her?’

Your stomach sinks and you nearly drop the phone. The door opens and you quickly set it back down and sit back. You cross your arm and stare out at the other guests. Nothing can happen as long as you don’t leave.

He comes back and you flinch as he drapes a blanket over you. He drops down onto the couch as he pulls it snug around your front. He drags his grip down the edges before he lets go. “Better?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and blink. Your eyes feel dry. You reach up to rub them.

“Really good cider. You’ll have to send me the recipe,” he insists.

“Sure,” you slur and try to shake it off. “I’ll find the link...” you swallow and cough. You don’t feel right. You need some space to think. “I need to use the bathroom, one sec.”

You try to stand but don’t even get your ass off of the sofa before you slump over. Your head crashes into Bucky’s shoulder. He opens his arm around you and rubs your back. He hushes you as you babble.

“You’re okay, baby,” he rubs your back, “I got you.”

You try to make a noise but you can’t. You can’t whine or whimper or scream. You can just squeak as he pushes you back up so you fall back against the arm.

“I measured...” he says quietly. “You shouldn’t pass out.”

You gurgle and lift your arm. It takes so much effort that it drops down like a bag a sand. The cider...

He shifts and stands, moving your leg behind him before he lowers himself back down. His hand rests on your thigh. His thumb presses into your soft flesh.

“God, you’re so beautiful, doll,” he traces up and down the seam of your pants. “Absolutely gorgeous.” He runs his finger along your pelvis, making a vee back and forth, “soft and... warm.”

“B--B—B--” you stutter.

“The moment I saw you, I knew you needed me,” he moves even closer, his hand crawling up your stomach. “Whoever chased you into that place, he didn’t deserve you. You deserve better.”

He moves carefully, lifting himself and twisting onto his knees. His hand glides back along your thigh as he folds it around him. You twitch but can’t do more than that. He bends and holds himself over you.

He curls an arm under your head and nuzzles you. Your eyes roll back as you hide behind your eyelids. This can’t be real. What is he doing? How can he have photos of you on his phone? And that text... did Natasha set this up? Why would she do that? She’s your friend.

“Look at me,” he growls. His voice is scary. Your eyes snap open and you groan. The tip of his nose rolls around yours. “God, you’re beautiful. Doll, I’m gonna take such good care of you.” He leans his pelvis against you as he presses down, “I’m going to keep you safe.”

He tilts his hips until you feel his bulge against you. Your eyes round and you puff out a foggy breath. What is he doing?

“Don’t look away,” he snarls as he slides his arm back and grips the back of your head. “Mmm, I just... I love the way you look at me. The way you feel beneath me.” He rasps as he rocks his hips steadily, “I can’t wait to have you on me, doll. To feel you on top of me. Around me. Mm, I wanna taste you so bad.

“Mm, your chest,” he touches your tits, “your stomach, your hips,” his hand explores with his declaration and he hooks his hand under you, “your ass. All mine.”

His coarse whispers tingle through you. What he says is nasty and wrong and yet it’s thrilling. Terrifying because you can do nothing to stop him. Defeating because all the people only feet away won’t either.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #one shot #autumn #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #avengers #captain america #dark fic #dark!fic

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buttercupjosh · 4 months ago

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The Perfect Proposal (the 4 times you expected that Mat was going to propose + the 1 time he actually did)

(Gif credit to @mattymartin)

word count: 1,968

genres: established relationship, fluff, self-insert

warnings: none

A/N: This story is based off of the song “Joy of My Life” by Chris Stapleton and I make references to this song throughout the story. I highly recommend listening to this song before reading my story. This story is short, sweet and fluffy. It’s not set at a specific moment in time (It’s taking place in a fictional future but you could also say that it’s set this upcoming season or even a past season). It’s written with a female reader in mind because I’m a female of color but the reader doesn’t specifically have to be a POC or a woman and there’s little dialogue. This is not a sequel to Your Favorite Secret (which you can still read and check out and if you want this to be a sequel to that, you can interpret it that way). As always, I’m open to any and all feedback, comments or questions; just put them in my inbox or dm me. Thank you so much in advance for reading, I appreciate it😌

(P.S. I have other stories (linked here) that I have written for other players as well if you want to check it out)

“Someday it will come right on cue.” -Somewhere Love Is Waiting for You from the Schmigadoon TV series soundtrack

Prologue

Meeting Mat changed your life in the best way possible. You took Mat’s breath away when you met up for your very first date and since then, you continued to take his breath away in small doses every time you saw him. He added so much goodness and love into your life and you did the same for him. Mat felt so grateful to have you in his life and even though he made millions, being with you was his greatest treasure. You and Mat deeply appreciated each and every moment you had together, no matter how big or small it was; the two years that you had been together so far were some of your greatest times. You were both so smitten that you always looked at each other with such deep love and devotion and couldn’t get enough of your significant other’s presence. For a while, Mat knew that he wanted to propose to you but he just needed to figure out the best way how to and time when to ask that all-important question.

————————————————————

It finally happened. After 3 challenging years, you finally completed law school and earned your Juris Doctor degree from NYU. All of your friends and family came into town to celebrate your accomplishment. In order to accommodate everyone, Mat graciously rented a large AirBnb house in the Hamptons to host your graduation party. You handled some aspects of the party planning while Mat handled the rest and the party went very well. During the congratulations portion of the evening, Mat wanted to give a quick remark to acknowledge your achievement.

“For the past 2 years, I watched this wonderful person ambitiously work their way through law school. There were a lot of late nights, early mornings and so many case reviews and vocabulary study sessions that I think I could go get a law degree. Y/N, to say that I am proud of you is a massive understatement. My love, you are so amazing and you did it. I love you so much. Because I love you so much, I have a surprise for you.” Mat spoke.

This moment seemed like it was the right time for Mat to ask for your hand in marriage; you had been dating for a while, you lived together and blended your families together, and he had just finished a great speech that made all of the party’s attendees realize how much he was in love with you. Instead, Mat handed you an envelope. Inside the envelope was a copy of a check for the exact amount that you owed in student loans and a letter informing you that your loans were fully paid off. You couldn’t believe what was happening and began to cry.

“How did you do this?”, you mustered out through your tears of joy.

“So you know how you gave me access to your book of important information in case anything happened to you? Well, I asked Liana to call the loan office to pretend to be you and ask for your account balance”, Mat cheesily revealed.

Mat saw firsthand how much distress and frustration law school caused you so he wanted to help out someone he deeply loved by eliminating the stress of having to pay for a student loan; this surprise was better than an engagement ring.

————————————————————

After your graduation party and after the Islanders were eliminated from playoffs, it was the official start of the off-season. This year, it was a milestone birthday for Mat’s dad so the Barzal family decided to do a European summer vacation to celebrate. You were important enough to their family that you had been invited and Liana, Mat’s sister, also invited her best friend to accompany her on the trip.

Hand-in-hand with the man you considered to be the love of your life and his family, for 3 weeks, you explored England, France, Monaco, and Mat’s ancestral homeland of Italy. In England, you indulged in English culture while Mat hilariously attempted a British accent. In France, you shared plenty of kisses with your lover in the City of Love, swooning every time Mat spoke French. In Monaco, you and Mat felt like the protagonists of a spy thriller while hanging out in the city.

Once you arrived in Italy, you got to see a different side of Mat that rarely came out. He had been to Italy several times before but he was thrilled to share all that he knew about that special place with you. Mat glowed differently whenever you got authentic gelato together or when he swam in the waters along the Amalfi Coast. Of course, throughout the trip, you still spent plenty of time with Mat’s parents, sister, and her friend and attended a lovely birthday dinner on a boat for Mat’s dad while visiting Sicily.

On the plane ride traveling back to Canada after your whirlwind European tour, you thought to yourself that you were going to come back to North America with a new jewelry addition to your left hand; you did have a lot of date nights and one-on-one time with Mat on the trip. However, your wonderful boyfriend did get you a gorgeous Cartier love bracelet from the official store in Paris and you were returning back with the gift of good memories that were created with your future in-laws.

————————————————————

The remainder of the off-season went by so quickly; between weddings, summer holidays, and other events all happening, you and Mat were swept in so many different directions. Time flies when you’re having fun and soon, it was already time to return to Long Island for the hockey season.

The usual ups, downs, and chaos of the hockey season lingered in your household but you navigated through it together. As the season went on, you spent a lot of time studying for the Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam and Universal Bar Exam, which allowed you to become eligible to be admitted to the New York State Bar next year. Even though you had those responsibilities, you still supported Mat at most of his home games. One of the things about Mat that you loved was how he would always quietly tiptoe into your shared home after a late game but he loved how you always waited up for him to come home after every game, regardless of what time he returned. Before you both knew it, the year was winding down and it was almost Christmas time. You and Mat had decided to host Christmas this year and both of your families were coming. This wasn’t the first time that both of your families had been together to celebrate an occasion; they were there all together for your law school graduation earlier in the year and both sides enjoyed being together as one cohesive unit but for some reason, things felt different to you this holiday season.

You spent hours preparing and making sure that everything was right for the arrival of your guests. Christmas came and went wonderfully. It was so nice to have your families together during the holidays. You gifted Mat a new game day tie and a gift card to one of his favorite road restaurants; Mat got you a nice bag to carry all of your work things and a personalized padfolio for you to take all of your legal notes in.

Yes, you were secretly expecting a diamond underneath the tree this year but it was okay because you still got other great gifts as well. Despite wanting something else, you still deeply cherished the time you got to spend with your loved ones.

————————————————————

After the holidays were over, you and Mat settled back into your respective routines until it was All-Star Break. Mat was not chosen for the All-Star Game that year and some of the Islanders players and families decided to go to the Bahamas for their team All-Star Break trip. The time away gave you and Mat both some essential rest and relaxation. At the end of February, you were scheduled to take the Universal Bar Exam but you took a break from studying to enjoy your mini-vacation. You stayed with your lover and company at a phenomenal resort; you swam with dolphins, relaxed at the spa, and ate so much tasty food. You also enjoyed lots of group activities with Mat and his teammates and their respective significant others. During the trip, one of Mat’s best friends’, Anthony, and his long-term girlfriend, Emma got engaged. It stung a little to see someone else reach the relationship milestone you deeply desired to share with Mat and you had expected that it was going to be you and your lover’s turn to share that special romantic moment on this trip, however, you were happy for your friends.

————————————————————

One evening, you came home from a long, exhausting day of work. After passing both the Universal Bar Exam and Multistate Professional Responsibility Exam and completing some other requirements, you were admitted to the New York State Bar last month and got a job as a junior attorney. It was a pleasant surprise to see Mat cooking; he was subtly singing in the kitchen and tenderly caring for some handmade pasta. You couldn’t quite make out what song Mat was singing but it didn’t matter what it was because you had caught him singing songs that you’ve played around the house and pop songs from the radio plenty of times before. You smiled to yourself as watched him in his element before slipping away for a much-needed shower.

After you came out of the shower and changed, there was a beautiful plate of pasta waiting for you on the table. Mat tapped deep into his Italian heritage and made a delectable dinner for the two of you. You shared with Mat the details of work and although, he may not quite fully understand everything you were expressing your feelings about, he still listened to you as you rambled on. After dinner concluded, you and Mat were going to share a box of bakery cannolis and watch a movie on the couch but Mat told you to wait at the table and suddenly got up. He returned to the room with a look of nervousness on his face. You asked Mat if he was okay but you could tell that he had something important to say.

“I’ve been holding onto this ring for a while. There were so many other times that I wanted to ask but there’s just something that feels so right about this moment. Sitting here, I realized something very important. I want to spend the rest of my life, making you dinner when I can and listening to you speak. I want to continue to come home from my games to you and wake up next to you. I have the greatest honor of knowing and loving you. You have the sweetest heart that’s made of gold and you are like an angel brought down to Earth from Heaven. I want to be by your side forever. Y/N, you are the joy of my life. Will you marry me?” Mat declared while holding out the engagement ring of your dreams in a Tiffany blue box.

You were speechless because Mat was right; this was the perfect moment. You looked straight into Mat’s green eyes that you admired so dearly and accepted his marriage proposal; you were both super excited to embark on this new journey in your relationship. You and Mat swayed with each other to the sound of your fiance’s voice, serenading you to “Joy Of My Life” by Chris Stapleton, the same song Mat was singing to himself earlier. Patience was an important virtue and all of that waiting paid off at the right time.

#mat barzal #mat barzal x reader #mat Barzal imagine #mat Barzal fic #ny islanders #my writing #hockey writing

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imaginespazzi · 6 months ago

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Part 4: Warning Bells

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Part 13 - Part 14

I don't think I can do this again (do you remember it too?)

(In which a self-admittedly all over the place writer takes you on a bit of a rollercoaster)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff, Angst, Pining (the usuals)

Words: 6.1K

TW: Swearing, Mentions of Divorce

A/N: Hi lovelies :) Guess who made a deadline again? I'm as shocked as y'all are but I do wanna just warn y'all that August is gonna be really busy for me so as much as I'm gonna try to stick to schedule, there's a pretty good chance I won't. I really appreciate y'alls feedback with live-reacts/long reviews and it's truly the motivating factor behind my writing so pretty please keep sending them. I did edit (as usual) but please let me know the most likely existent typos anyway. As always, let me know what you liked, disliked and what you wanna see next. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves <3

March 2033

Here’s what Azzi has learned about motherhood: having kids means that there will come many times in your life, when you will look around you and wonder how the hell did I get here. It’s that thought that’s currently plaguing her as she finishes hanging up the WELCOME HOME banner on the living room wall in her ex-girlfriend’s new apartment. And when she’s talking about kids, she’s not talking about her five year old who’s currently sticking purple hearts on every surface she can find. No, she’s talking about her 6’5 teammate who she’d once “adopted” as a joke in college, but who’s basically become her surrogate child ever since they’d ended up on the same WNBA team.

It had started as a casual conversation when Jana, as she often did, had shown up for an impromptu lunch. The topic of Paige was hard to avoid considering it was Stephie’s favorite subject, heightened by the fact that Paige was coming back soon and Stephie was far too excited to finally have her Miss Buecks back. Jana was more than happy to indulge the little girl in conversation about what Paige had been like at UConn. And if Azzi had lost herself in those memories for a moment, transported back in time to a world that had once been blooming with promise before wilting in a darkness she’d created herself, well, she’d done an excellent job not letting it show on her face.

The real issue had started when Jana had casually let slip her idea of surprising Paige with a little welcome party. And as Stephie had started reciting all the different things they could do -because of course me and Mama will help you Aunty J, Azzi had glared at Jana, only to receive an innocent smile in return that told her everything she needed to know. She’d been set up.

That’s how, instead of spending her Saturday curled up on her comfortable couch with a book in her hands, Azzi is here instead and in true fashion, she’s the only one actually getting anything done. Jana, who had just left about twenty minutes ago to pick Paige up, had invited some of the other girls on the team to come help out yet, something about more hands on deck. Those supposed helpful hands had spent the last hour blowing up and popping balloons and getting nothing else done.

“I can’t believe y’all have me decorating for the woman who cost me my first national championship,” Joyce laments, “I still have nightmares from that game.”

“You gotta let that hurt go Aunty Joy,” Stephie says impishly, mimicking what Jana would normally say whenever the infamous 2025 South Carolina vs UConn national championship got brought up.

“Don’t sass me Miss Stephanie,” Joyce sticks out her tongue at the little girl, throwing a purple balloon at Stephie’s head, “hasn’t your Mama taught you that we don’t mock people’s pain.”

“Ignore her Steph,” Tessa says, bumping her former Gamecock teammate as she shares a devilish grin with Azzi’s daughter, “she’s just upset she only won one. Some of us have two.”

Joyce guffaws, throwing another balloon, this time aimed at Tessa, “dude we’re supposed to be on the same team. What would Coach Staley say to you teaming with UConn people of all things to bully me?”

“She’d thank me for making sure you didn’t get a big head,” Tessa snipes back.

Whatever response Joyce has to that quip is cut short by the doorbell ringing and Azzi feels her heartbeat quicken as Stephie lets out a squeal, dropping everything to go answer it. Things had been different since the facetime call almost two weeks ago. They’d accidentally on purpose settled into a routine where Stephie would call Paige at exactly 7 p.m. and Paige would answer on the first ring, promising to stay on the phone till the little girl fell asleep. And it would’ve been fine if that’s all it was. But then Paige started staying on the phone till after Stephie fell asleep and suddenly it was like they were back to their teenage selves, talking about everything and nothing, trying to learn every page of each other’s story all over again.

Azzi had missed so much about Paige in the last couple of years but there was nothing she’d missed more than just talking to her best friend. She’d missed the way Paige would tell a story, going off on a million tangents in between. She’d missed the way her eyes would light up when she got to a particularly exciting part of the story, specks of gold shimmering in the blue like sunlight hitting the ocean. She’d missed the way Paige’s hands would be flying animatedly all over the place, even when she was whispering. She’d missed the way the blonde would pause halfway through to observe if Azzi was still listening, making sure all of the attention was still on her. And she’d missed the way that when it was Azzi’s turn to speak, Paige would hang onto every word like it was gospel, intently listening like she’d never forgive herself if she couldn’t recite everything Azzi had just said from memory. She’d missed the way Paige would let her emotions freely flicker across her face, because whatever happened to Azzi, Paige felt it too.

She’d missed and missed, convinced the pain would be the end of her, until she’d tricked her mind into forgetting. And now Azzi’s beginning to realize that remembering it all again, might just be the thing that kills her.

“Nevermind,” Stephie walks back to the room, sulking slightly, “it’s just Aunty Liyah.”

“Oh thanks Stephie babe. That makes me feel so wonderful,” Aaliyah says, walking in behind Stephie with an offended expression on her face, “and here I thought bringing cupcakes would make me popular.”

“Tell me those are store-bought Chavez. I ain’t trusting them if you made them yourselves,” Joyce says, side-eyeing the cupcakes.

“Trust me I would never waste my precious time baking for y’all ungrateful ass-”

“Aaliyah,” Azzi shoots her younger teammate a sharp look.

“-ungrateful people,” Aaliyah corrects sheepishly, “cupcakes because y’all clearly don’t appreciate me.”

“I pre-ciate you Aunty Liyah,” Stephie says innocently, trying to get a better look at the aforementioned cupcakes, “you got the pu-ple ones right? They have to be pu-ple for Miss Buecks.”

Aaliyah bends down to Stephie’s level to show her the box of sweet treats “the perfect purple cupcakes for your Miss Buecks. How come you never wanna do nice things like this for us Stephie?”

“Because Miss Buecks is special,” Stephie retorts matter-of-factly.

“Oh so we’re not special?” Tessa asks, raising an eyebrow at Stephie.

“‘Course you are but Miss Buecks is special-er.”

And while her teammates all pretend to dramatically gasp at that, shaking their heads at Stephie, Azzi feels like someone’s squeezing her heart, twisting and twisting but never fully breaking it. She wonders if that might hurt less.

It’s another 10 minutes later when the doorbell rings again and Azzi watches her daughter’s face break into an incandescent grin, filled with hope, as she rushes to open the door because it has to be Paige this time. Azzi follows after her, trying to keep her breathing under control as anticipation clings to her nerves. Azzi’s gotten so spectacularly good at lying to herself that she tells herself this next one with ease: there’s not a single part of her that’s eager to see Paige again.

“SURPRISE,” Stephie screams, flinging the front door open with as much strength as she can muster. She doesn’t give Paige a chance to react before she’s throwing herself against the blonde’s legs, hugging her thighs.

It takes a second for Paige to register what’s happening, but when she does, it’s Azzi she’s looking at. Everything seems to move in slow motion as they stare at each other, the reality of the moment suddenly settling in. Paige is here. In Oakland. They’re going to be teammates; they’re going to see each other almost every day. Just like they used to. Except nothing is like it used to be and as that bitter truth comes up like bile in Azzi’s throat, she has to force herself to look away.

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie calls out, tugging at the hem of Paige’s white shirt to get her attention, “do you like my surprise?”

Paige tears her eyes away from Azzi, leaning down to pick Stephie up before peppering her faces with kisses and making the younger girl squeal in delight, “best surprise ever.”

And Azzi really, really, can’t watch this. Not when it makes her want to walk over and cocoon herself in with the two of them, makes her want to pretend that she’s living in another life, one where she hadn’t thrown away the chance of a happily ever after with the girl she’d fallen in love with at fourteen,

“Oh yeah Stephie, your surprise. Take all the credit. Not like the rest of us did anything,” Joyce rolls her eyes goodnaturedly, before pulling Paige into a one-armed hug, “welcome to the Bay Area Bueckers.”

Tessa and Aaliyah are next, both sharing warm hugs with their new teammate. Once they’ve had their turn, all eyes seem to turn to Azzi expectantly and the brunette blanches under their gaze. Other than Jana, who suddenly seems pretty heavily interested in the doorframe, the rest of her teammates don’t know about her past with Paige. So it’s only natural they’d expect her to greet Paige with all the cordiality of an old friend.

“Y’all good?” Joyce asks slowly, looking between the two of them, “do you want me to introduce y’all or?”

“Shut up,” Azzi murmurs before drawing in a deep breath and stepping towards Paige. She tries not to fixate on the way Paige’s jaw flexes when the blonde swallows, tries not to think about all the patterns she’d once carved against that little patch of skin because she knew it drove Paige insane. The thing is Azzi can’t even really remember the last time they hugged beyond a for-the-cameras one at a game. But as she wraps her arms around Paige, the older woman’s breath tickling against her ear as she grips Azzi’s waist, it doesn’t feel that much different from how it used to be. Paige’s arms are still safe and strong and Azzi still wants to melt into them. But what’s different is that Stephie’s in between them now, tiny hands securely fastened around both of their necks. And Azzi almost, almost gives into the feeling of belonging as she whispers two simple words that mean just a little too much.

“Welcome home.”

***

Seven pairs of eyes watch as the movers move box after box after box into Paige’s apartment, until there’s more cardboard than floor visible. The three non-UConn girlies are wide-eyed as they watch the pile grow endlessly. Meanwhile Jana is laughing while Azzi tries to hide a smile behind her hands as the realization that she’d have to unpack all of her stuff hits Paige in waves, and her expression grows more and more somber. Once the movers are finally done, it’s Stephie, whose hand is still firmly clasped in Paige’s, who breaks the silence.

“You have a lot of things Miss Buecks,” the little girl crinkles her nose, as she points out the obvious, “do you really need all of this stuff.”

“Of course I do Stephie,” Paige says indignantly and Azzi scoffs, earning her a withering glare from the blond.

“Aight well it was nice to meet you-” Joyce starts, slowly backing away from the mess until Jana blocks her way.

“Oh no you don’t. I told y’all we were all gonna help her move in. Call it team bonding,” the Egyptian says, her voice vaguely threatening.

“Most of the team isn’t even here,” Aaliyah points out cautiously.

“That’s not the point,” Jana rebukes, “alright team listen up. Here’s how this is going to go-”

“Maybe Paige should take charge. It is her apartment,” Tessa says slowly.

“If we put Paige in charge she’ll tell us all to go home and procrastinate doing anything until after the season,” Azzi says, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.

Paige pouts, “hey! I’m not that bad.”

“Oh you absolutely are.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“O-kay,” Jana claps, breaking apart the bickering, “it’s good to see the two of you are apparently younger than Stephie,” she holds up a hands a both Paige and Azzi start to splutter in their defense, “now as I was saying before being rudely interrupted. We’re gonna split this up. Joyce and I are gonna do the living room. Aaliyah and Tessa, y’all are gonna fix the guest room. Which leaves,” Jana smiles, and it’s only because Azzi knows her so well that she can read the menacing sparkle behind it, “Paige and Azzi to tackle the master bedroom.”

They both open their mouths to protest but are quick to get cut off by an excited Stephie, “I’mma help Mama and Miss Buecks!”

“Of course you are, why would you ever help anybody else? Clearly you don’t love us anymore. Not since your precious Miss Buecks got here,” Joyce says dramatically and while Paige smirks and the rest of the girls pretend to act mock offended, Azzi uses the distraction to sidle up to Jana.

“What the fuck are you playing at El-Alfy,” she hisses under hear breath.

Jana shrugs innocently, “the master bedroom is the hardest because Paige has so many fucking clothes so I’m letting y’all old heads do it. Some of us are below 30 ya know.”

“Cut the bullshit,” Azzi snaps.

“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about Fudd,” Jana says airily as she starts to unpack a box, leaving Azzi muttering curses under her breath.

“Hey-”

Azzi spins around at the soft voice, only to find herself crashing against a solid body. It’s instinct, the way Paige’s hands immediately reach out to steady her and it’s instinct, the way Azzi’s hands grab at the lapels of the blond’s shirt. Goosebumps trails up her skin as Paige's breath, hot and heavy, fans across her face. They’re too close; way too close and yet the idea of stepping away feels like a sin. Azzi gulps as her thumb accidentally brushes Paige’s collarbone and the other woman shivers under her touch. She thinks she could probably get drunk off the feeling of knowing that she can still affect Paige like that.

“You uh-” Paige swallows, fingers squeezing involuntarily against Azzi’s hip, “you don’t have to listen to Jana. I can- I can figure it out myself.”

“N-no,” Azzi stutters and she wonders if Paige feels a high from the way she still affects Azzi too, “there’s um- you have- uh- you have a lot of stuff. I can-,” she sucks in a deep breath, “I’ll help.”

“You sure?” there’s a vulnerable edge to Paige’s tone and any resolve Azzi could ever have melts immediately.

“I want to help,” she says softly, letting a small smile slip onto her lips.

The smile she gets in return is bright and sparkling, just like Paige herself and Azzi’s heart lurches, pleased to be the one receiving it, pleased to be the one who’d elicited it, “Good, cause I really wanted your help.”

Azzi shakes her head, trying to ignore the warning bells blazing in her head at the fact that they’re still holding each other, “why’d you pretend you didn’t?”

“I just wanted to hear you say it first,” Paige says, biting at her bottom lip. It leaves a light mark and Azzi finds herself wanting to soothe it over with her own tongue.

She thinks it might have been easier if it was just a little harder to fall back into Paige. It shouldn’t be so simple to fall back into late night conversations, so simple to fall back into easy teasing, so simple to fall back into feeling at peace in Paige’s arms. But it is.

“Mama, Miss Buecks,” it’s Stephie who breaks their bubble but instead of jumping away from each other like they should, they step apart only enough to let the little girl into the space between them, so she can lace her hands through both of theirs, “are you ready?”

“Before you go Paige,” Tessa calls out, holding up a clear bag of corner guards and edge protectors, “what are we doing with these?”

Paige shuffles her feet nervously, “you um- you put them on the edge of like tables and stuff.”

“Bro but they’re for people who have children?” Joyce says, giving Paige a weird look, “you have a kid we don’t know about?”

Paige’s eyes flicker to Stephie for a brief second and Azzi freezes, a warm realization tickling up her spine. Butterflies erupt in her stomach, their wings fluttering to the beat of what’s mine could have been ours.

“Of course not. I’m just super clumsy so precautions and all that,” the blond explains, shooting Jana a glare when the taller woman barely masks a giggle, “quit procrastinating by asking all these questions and get to work.”

“Has anyone ever told you the importance of first impressions? Because I’m telling you Bueckers, using your teammates as unpaid labor the first time you meet them is not it,” Aaliyah gives Paige a pointed look.

“This wasn’t even my idea in the first place,” Paige defends.

“True,” Tessa nods with a sickly sweet smile, “but you’re gonna pay for the pizza anyways.”

“I’m not pay-”

“PIZZA,” Stephie squeals, “Miss Buecks you’re gonna get us Pizza?”

“Yeah Miss Buecks,” Azzi smickers, crossing her arms as Paige’s stubborn retort dies on her lips, “you gonna get us pizza?”

Paige glares at her before she’s swinging Stephie up onto her lap again. And she really needs to stop doing things like that because it’s not remotely good for Azzi’s mental health to watch the way Stephie seems to fit perfectly in Paige’s arms, “of course I am Steph, what do you want?”

The two of them are lost in their own world discussing pizza toppings as Paige starts walking over to the master bedroom, until suddenly they're both turning around, looking at Azzi with identical expressions. And the brunette feels her heart tap out this could be my everything against her ribcage.

“You coming Azzi?”

“Mama, are you coming?”

I’d go anywhere with the two of you, Azzi thinks as she nods her head, a light skip in her step as she moves to catch up with the two of them.

“Of course I’m coming.”

***

Less than 10 minutes into trying to unpack, Azzi realizes that she’s the only one trying to unpack anything when she looks up from where she’s been folding t-shirts -trying and failing at not breathing in their familiar scent- to find Stephie decked in a colorful cardigan that goes all the way down to her toes, her feet clad in a pair of PB4’s that must be three times the size of her own shoes. A pair of Louis Vuitton sunglasses hide almost her entire face as she strikes pose after pose and Paige diligently takes pictures of her.

“YES Stephie,” the blond indulges, “work it girl. There you go babe, hold that pose for me. You’re a natural in front of the camera.”

Stephie giggles and Azzi feels her heart constrict. Her favorite sound in the whole world has never sounded more like a signal for danger.

“Ahem ahem,” she coughs, narrowing her eyes at the two people in front of her, “doesn’t look like y’all are unpacking to me.”

“Mama Miss Buecks has so many pretty clothes,” Stephie gushes, completely ignoring what her mother just said.

“They’d look even prettier folded in her closet,” Azzi says pointedly.

Stephie pouts, “you don’t think I look pretty?”

“You look really pretty in my clothes Stephie,” Paige cuts in, tapping the little girl on the nose before she turns her gaze towards Azzi, “just like your Mama used to.”

The silk material shirt slips out of Azzi’s hand as Paige’s words drizzle around her, like the rain after a drought. It takes every little bit of strength she can muster to force herself to ignore Paige’s words and pick up another shirt to fold even if she can’t stop the rouge tint that colors her face. There’s this part of her that’s been dormant for years but every little interaction with Paige threatens to awaken it and Azzi’s scared that if she lets that happen, she’ll never be able to put it to sleep again.

“Just- just focus on unpacking,” Azzi mutters darkly.

She spends the next hour or so, keeping her eyes downcast, her complete focus on the task at hand. Because if she looks up, if she lets herself see the way Stephie and Paige are folding clothes together while giggling about something, if she lets herself see the way Stephie climbs onto Paige’s back so the woman can give her a piggyback to the closet to deposit the folded clothes, she thinks she could fall in love with this moment, capture it behind her eyelids and let it live there forever. But this moment doesn’t belong to Azzi. Because Paige doesn’t belong to Azzi. Not anymore.

Azzi’s taken away from her thoughts when she feels a tiny hand wrapping around her neck from behind, Stephie’s warm body pressing against her back and just like that, all the tension in her muscles seem to dissipate.

“What’s up sweetheart,” she asks, turning her head to press her lips against her daughter’s temple.

“Nothing Mama,” Stephie says sweetly, “just wanted to give you a hug.”

“Sure you’re not just trying to get out of helping Miss Buecks unpack?” Azzi asks slyly, pulling Stephie from behind her, so the little girl’s lying on her lap instead. She can feel Paige’s eyes focused on the two of them and even without looking, she thinks she knows what she’d find in them if she did.

“Of course not Mama,” Stephie grins and then squeals as Azzi begins to tickle her.

“I think you are,” Azzi sings-songs as she continues to poke at her daughter’s stomach, reveling in the way it makes the child laugh.

“N-no Mama stop, stop,” Stephie manages to wrench herself out from Azzi’s grip, darting to hide behind Paige’s legs, “Miss Buecks save me.”

“There’s no saving you now Stephie-bear,” Azzi roars dramatically as she picks herself off the floor, smirking at her daughter as she wriggles her fingers menacingly.

“You know what the best way to stop someone from tickling you is Stephie?” Paige says slowly, sending the little girl a conspiratorial wink.

“Don’t you dare-”

“You tickle them back,” Paige yells and Stephie eyes widen with excitement, “did you know your Mama’s extremely ticklish?”

“Paige no,” Azzi starts moving back, hands held in surrender.

“You started it.”

“Yeah Mama, you started it.”

“Paige. Stephie. Ple-” Azzi cuts herself off with squeal as two sets of hands start mercilessly prodding at her ribcage. She can’t get away, not when Paige has her securely wrapped from the back and Stephie’s pressed against her front, both of them laughing maniacally. They’re a mess of limbs that’s becoming harder and harder to tell apart as the three of them topple onto Paige’s bed. And Azzi thinks maybe she doesn’t want to escape it at all. She thinks she’d like to freeze them in this moment instead. Forever.

“Pizza’s here,” someone yells from the living room and it’s Stephie who stops first, immediately jumping off the bed at the mention of food, leaving Paige and Azzi alone. On Paige’s bed. Barely an inch of distance between them as they try to catch their breath. It’s Azzi who sits up first, smoothening the wrinkles on her shirt. And just as she’s about to stand up fully, she feels a hand circling around her wrist.

“It’s gonna be weird being alone tonight,” Paige confesses softly and Azzi feels her breath hitch.

“Didn’t you live alone in Dallas? At least after the divorce?” she tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice at the last word, a bitterness she knows she has absolutely no right to feel.

Paige shrugs, her shoulders brushing against Azzi’s, “I did but I knew Dallas. I don’t know this place.”

“What exactly are you asking me?” Azzi asks even though she knows.

“I’m not asking you anything. I don’t know if I have that right anymore” Paige says softly, letting go of Azzi’s wrist as she starts to walk towards the living room, turning her head back slightly once she gets to the door, “I’m just telling you I don’t wanna be alone tonight.”

***

Damn Paige Bueckers and her vulnerable eyes and her earnest tone because Azzi would, really, really like to be enjoying her slice of pizza right now. Instead everything tastes like ashes as Paige’s unsaid plea rings in her head. There are so many reasons why Azzi absolutely shouldn’t give in, why she should grab Stephie, get into her car, drive home and never look back. This involuntary dance the two of them are starting is far too familiar to what they’d done when they were teenagers and the vivid memories of the day the music stopped and they’re feet stopped moving still haunt Azzi every time she lets herself think of it for a little too long. And she shouldn’t push herself into this fire again, not when there’s Stephie to think about, but there’s a tiny little problem. She thinks she might be addicted to burning in Paige’s flames.

So when the pizza’s done and the house is more or less in order, and her teammates are ready to leave, looking expectantly at Azzi, she finds herself leaping into lava, “um- I think Stephie and I are gonna stay for a little bit longer.”

“We are?” Stephie asks, a huge smile stretching the length of her face as she looks up at her mother.

“Yeah. Um- Paige’s bedroom still um- still needs some work,” Azzi tries to justify her decision, ignoring the heat of the blond’s eyes that seem to be perpetually stuck staring at her.

Joyce raises a perplexed eyebrow, “it looked done to me.”

Paige clears her throat, “there’s definitely uh- a couple more things that need to be handled.”

“It’s almost Stephie’s bedtime. I could stay and help-” Jana begins, eyeing the two of them suspiciously.

“No,” Paige says, a little louder than necessary, “I mean you’ve already done so much for me today Jana,” she manages a smirk, “let Azzi pull her weight a little bit too ya know.”

Janna narrows her eyes but doesn’t push it. It’s oddly domestic, standing side by side with Paige bidding goodbye to their teammates, Stephie in between them happily waving at the people that are leaving. The warning bells get louder and louder; Azzi continues to do nothing to stop them.

“Mama, how long are we staying?” Stephie asks innocently.

“We um-” Azzi chews at her lip, finally giving into the temptation to look at Paige, “we’re gonna stay with Miss Buecks tonight so she doesn’t feel alone.”

The shrill scream that escapes Stephie’s mouth could probably break glass as she turns herself around to grab at Paige’s waist, “Miss Buecks I’m gonna stay with you! We’re gonna have a sleep-over.”

Paige laughs, kneeling down so she’s face to face with the little girl, “yeah we are.”

“Are you scared to sleep alone too Miss Buecks?” Stephie asks cautiously, cupping Paige’s face with tiny hands.

“Just a little bit,” Paige admits, leaning into Stephie’s touch.

“Me too,” Stephie whispers shyly, “that’s why I sneak into Mama's bed and she gives me lots and lots and lots of cuddles. Mama’s cuddles are the best,” she turns to Azzi, “Mama will you give Miss Buecks cuddles tonight too?”

“I uh-” Azzi swallows, taken aback by the question, “I thought you didn’t like sharing Mama’s cuddles?”

“I don’t,” Stephie agrees, “but I’d be okay sharing them with Miss Buecks.”

***

Azzi had planned -a loose term because really she hadn’t planned on any of this- for her and Stephie to take the guest room. Paige had been ready to give up her own room on the grounds of politeness. And Stephie was insistent that she needed to sleep in between both Mama and Miss Buecks tonight because it’s a sleepover we all have to stay together. Obviously out of the three of them, only one of them was going their way and it didn’t take a genius to figure out who that would be. That’s how they’d ended up here, dragging chairs and pillows and blankets into the middle of the living room to create a makeshift fort.

Azzi’s putting on the finishing touches, stringing purple fairy lights Paige had produced out of nowhere, when Stephie emerges from Paige’s bedroom where she’d gone looking for something to wear in lieu of pajamas.

“Mama look what I found,” Stephie beams, proudly pointing at the black t-shirt she’s found that covers her whole body, “it’s you and Miss Buecks when you were littler.”

It’s their SLAM cover t-shirt and Azzi feels tears prickling at her waterline as she’s met with the picture of a younger version of the two of them. Back when they’d been so hopeful and carefree, ready to take on the world as long as they could do it together. Back when they’d been 2 in a million.

“I can’t believe you still have this,” Azzi whispers, unable to stop herself from running her fingers across the version of who they used to be. She wonders what those girls would think of them now; those girls who’d laid and bed and pinky promised forever. She thinks they’d probably be appalled at the fact that Paige and Azzi had spent eight years barely speaking. She thinks maybe they’d hate her for what she’d done. She thinks maybe she hates herself a little bit for what she’s done to them.

Paige is leaning against the wall, her voice quiet when she speaks, “I couldn’t let it go.”

And they both know she’s not talking about the shirt.

“Can we watch a movie?” Stephie asks, diving into the fort and peering up at the two adults.

Paige recovers first, “yeah- yeah of course Steph,” she looks at Azzi, “do you- do you want something else to sleep in?”

“I’m good,” Azzi says, trying to inconspicuously brush away a rebellious tear. The shirt she’s wearing feels itchy against her skin but she doesn’t think she could handle wearing something of Paige’s. She scooches into the fort, leaning back against one of the pillows and Stephie’s quick to curl into her and Azzi absentmindedly rubs her hands down her daughter’s back. Paige switches on the TV, letting Stephie dictate a movie choice before letting herself into the fort, laying down on Stephie’s other side.

“Miss Buecks come cuddle,” Stephie demands from where her head is laying on Azzi’s chest. When Paige hesitates, the younger girl takes it upon herself to pull Paige’s arms over her, making the older woman lie on her side so she can drape her hands over Stephie's stomach, accidentally brushing against Azzi’s ribcage. Stephie lets out a satisfied sigh, lying back down against Azzi, crossing her arms so she can hold Paige’s hand with one and latch onto her mother with the other.

“Perfect.”

And it is. The sound of Stephie’s chatter slowly fading away mixed with Paige’s quiet breathing is the perfect lullaby and Azzi finds herself drifting off into the best sleep she’s had in years.

***

Sunlight peeks in through the window and Azzi groans at the interruption. Her whole body feels a little stiff, not used to sleeping on the floor like this. A quick glance at her phone tells her it’s 7 a.m. and Azzi’s just about to let herself fall back asleep when her eyes land on the two sleeping figures next to her. Stephie’s face is buried in Paige’s neck, one arm slung over her waist. Paige, mouth slightly ajar as she sleeps, has both hands fastened on the younger, holding her tightly against her chest like she’d fight the world if someone tried to steal her from her grip. They look happy, content, at peace. And Azzi can’t breathe.

The warning bells in her head create a cacophonous commotion that she can no longer escape. It hits her like whiplash that she can’t do this. She doesn’t know what had gotten into her last night, why she’d agreed to this, to any of this. But she can’t do this.

“Stephie,” Azzi whispers urgently, trying to pull her daughter out of Paige’s grasp, “Stephie wake up.”

“Az?” Paige asks groggily, stirring in her sleep, “what’s going on?”

“We need to go home,” Azzi says and she can’t bear to look at Paige.

“What?” Paige is far more awake now as she glances at her phone, “it’s 7 am Azzi. What’s the rush?"

Azzi ignores her, still trying to wake Stephie up who groans, “Mama too early.”

“Steph-”

“Azzi,” Paige’s voice is firm as she wraps her hand around Azzi’s wrist, slipping Stephie off of her, “what is going on.”

Azzi grits her teeth, “nothing’s going on. We just need to go home.”

“Azzi-”

“We shouldn’t have stayed last night Paige,” Azzi bursts out and Paige freezes.

“Come out of the fort Azzi,” the blond says, her voice eerily calm as she stands up. Azzi follows after her, heart beating rapidly against her chest as she tries to keep the tears at bay.

“We need to go home,” the brunette repeats, struggling to breathe, “this was a mistake,” Paige flinches and Azzi feels a knife turn in her own hurt, “we can’t do this.”

“Do what Azzi?” Paige asks exasperatedly, still trying to keep her voice low for Stephie’s sake.

“This,” Azzi all but shrieks, throwing her hands up, “it’s too much, too quick and Stephie- Stephie’s getting attached and I can’t- I can’t let that happen.”

“Why not?” Paige argues stubbornly.

“Because these last two weeks she couldn’t fall asleep without you on the phone. Because you’re all she talks about sometimes. Because she’s gonna want you forever,” Azzi’s voice breaks, “and she can’t have you forever.”

“Az-”

“And you’re getting attached too. I see the way you look at her and it’s amazing but it’s not- it’s not sustainable Paige. For either of you. Because you’re gonna find someone soon,” the words taste sour on Azzi’s tongue, “and you’re not gonna have time for her and missing you is going to kill her and the guilt of that is going to hurt you. I’m trying to pro-”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Paige’s voice is hard now, eyes gleaming with fire, “you’re basing all of this on a hypothetical that might not even come true. You’re not protecting anybody. You’re projecting.”

Azzi reels back, “I am not projecting.”

“Yes you are,” Paige hisses, “you’re not scared of Stephie or me getting too attached. You’re scared of yourself getting too attached.”

“Mama? Miss Buecks,” Stephie’s tired eyes look warily between the two of them, “what’s going on?”

Azzi plasters a smile on her face as she picks up her little girl, trying to pretend that the truth in Paige’s words haven’t just made her feel hollow, “we’re going home Stephie.”

“I don’t wanna go home,” Stephie fights against Azzi’s grip, looking helplessly at Paige, “Miss Buecks I wanna stay. Can I please stay?”

“You have to listen to your Mama sweetheart” Paige says softly, heartbreak written over her face as she moves to press a kiss against Stephie’s knuckles, “but I’ll see you soon okay. I promise.”

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie whimpers and Azzi has never hated herself more as she rushes out of Paige’s new house, willing herself to not look back. She buckles Stephie in the back, pretending she doesn’t see the way Paige is watching them leave from the porch, like she’d do anything to stop it. And then she drives away.

It isn’t until she’s safely in the confines over her own room, that Azzi finally lets the tears fall. And she consoles herself with the fact that it’s okay to crack her daughter's heart, to crack Paige’s heart, to crack her own heart, if that’s the only way she can stop their hearts from breaking altogether.

#pazzi #paige bueckers #azzi fudd #wcbb

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charcubed · 3 months ago

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"GAY WEEK" ON DOCTOR ODYSSEY REVIEW: not the episode I expected, but the episode I fucking deserved

A lesser show would use Gay Week to introduce queer content and possibly have it for only one episode as a special. But on this show? It’s always queer and the function of Gay Week is showing and explicitly talking about polyamory the entire time, setting up a polyamory slow burn.

WHO is doing it like them, I ask of you?

I am locked the fuck in for the long haul, baby!!!!! (as if that's news)

YIPPPEEEE

----

okay here I'm (mostly) copying and pasting some of my live tweets to share my immediate thoughts on the ep

-TRISTAN ENJOYING ALL THE ATTENTION FROM GAY MEN…. 👁👁 I love this bisexual

-“Polyamory” / “Throuple” / “That deep human condition question… Can all of my needs be met by one person?” We are literally watching a show on network television that’s explicitly about slow burn polyamory and I am in complete and utter disbelief. This is the thesis statement. They just went out and said that shit

-No but seriously they managed to have the throuple do an explicit threeway and NOW they're turning it into a slow burn?? WONDERFUL FOR ME PERSONALLY. LET'S GET THIS ANGST

-Max: “I’m a one woman” kind of man Tristan: “Aves… I can’t share you" Avery, lowkey: why are you both so fucking stupid and making this only about me when we have potential here because ALL of us want each other equally, including you two????

-No but this is so realistic I'm foaming at the mouth. OF COURSE they're getting caught up in the M/M part of it!! Of course they are!!! Of course that potentiality has to be drawn out!!! DELIGHTFUL

-TRISTAN’S FINGER KISS OVER THE SHOT OF MAX. IF ANYONE NEEDS ME I’LL BE PASSING AWAY.

-Anyway. “I’m a one woman” type of man Max said...... well guess what Max, that’s still true because you’ll have one woman and one boyfriend. Problem solved, king <3

-Also, if I think about how Max "I need to chase more joy" Bankman and Tristan "I have too much affection in me" Silva both reacted to having SO much happiness in one evening that they got scared by it and felt it was too good to be true I will start screaming.

-Hey so we all agree that the function of the single “heterosexual” couple on the ship is so we could get the visuals of 2 queer men standing in the background watching while the woman gave birth right. Like as thematically connected to Max’s excuses. We collectively saw that, right? Just checking

-Regarding the preview for next week: LOL. NO WAY IS AVERY ACTUALLY PREGNANT. I don’t know how or why but I’m calling bullshit, respectfully…. there’s gonna be some niche medical explanation for this tomfoolery and it’s going to force emotional angst

I FEEL LIKE I HALLUCINATED THIS EPISODE

THIS IS THE SHOW AND TRIO I'VE ALWAYS WANTED TO HAVE AND CAN'T BELIEVE EXISTS

Captain Massey you sweet, kind, and accepting old man I love yoouuuu... John Stamos in a throuple I love yooouuu.... writers and directors and creative team behind this queer polyamory show making very deliberate phrasing and framing choices I love yooouuu... <3333

#doctor odyssey #ODY3 #char writes things #HELLO FOR THE LOVE OF GOD HELLO #if any of you start closing I'm forcing you to stare at the wedding gif for 10 minutes #I'm bouncing off the Goddamn walls I can't believe I'm over here like “I'M SO GLAD THE MEN DIDN'T KISS YET. THIS IS BETTER”

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royallyprincesslilly · 1 year ago

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Title: Everyone Else Is No.2 {One-Shot}***

Lewis Hamilton x Attorney Friend Reader

Warning: Cursing, NSFW, Mature 18+ Content, Angst, PLENTY OF WORDS, DIALOGUE HEAVY

Words: 15.2k

Summary: Again, nah.

Note: Inspired by that old August Alsina song "Kissing on My Tattoos". So sorry for how long it is and for the long sentences toward the end, it couldn't be any other way. Forgive the weird spacing throughout, Tumblr has a 1,000 block limit per post, and guess who reached it before correcting the spacing.

Note II: Really interested in hearing what you guys think about this one. Let me know.

As always, thank you guys for reading! I appreciate it. I hope you enjoy this.

If you did enjoy this, please, LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!!!

***NOT Edited/Proofread***

-Y/N-

"You're beautiful you know that right?"

You smiled and took a sip of your drink.

"Thanks."

The man sitting across from you, Darius, nodded and before he looked down to his plate you caught his eyes drop to your cleavage. Of course, you thought. This was your 2nd date with him. The first went smoothly though you'd went with little to no expectations for it to be so. Tonight, he said the right things, did the right things, and was the perfect gentleman.

He'd even chosen a great restaurant. The ambiance was perfect for a second date. So far you had only counted 2 things that were less than satisfactory, everything was on point. He was so on point that you wondered if he was acting and not being his genuine self.

You hated the dating scene. Everyone held their cards too close to their chest. No one was ever real about anything. Everyone liked to waste people's time all in the name of fun and sex. These days you only treated dating as a pastime and a way to relieve stress after long hours of working on briefs and reviewing case files.

"A woman with your track record in law. Wheeew. Was it hard?"

You shrugged then wiped the corner of your mouth, "It definitely wasn't easy. I still remember the sleepless nights, and times when I only had 1 meal a day. My parents still remember not seeing me for 3 months because of the bar and my first major case that came nearly right behind the other. They won't let me forget it."

"It looks like it paid off. You're on the partner track. Shit, you'd be the first woman under 35 to make that happen at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw," Darius said.

You bristled, but politely smiled and took another sip of your wine.

"I'm sorry I don’t mean to make this weird I'm just in awe of you."

You studied him for a few moments but found no lie. You could always tell a lie. No matter what the case, no matter who it was. It was your secret weapon and it served you well as a lawyer.

"Thank you, but enough about me. What about you? Tell me about Darius Forrester."

He smiled, licked his lips then looked you directly in the eye.

"I'm pretty much a what you see you get kind of guy. I've been at Berry & Clark for the last 6 years as a criminal attorney. The work is challenging but I do alright for myself.

You nodded. He did. From what you heard his win ratio was nearly 92% and he took upstanding cases. He was a good attorney. Normally you wouldn’t shit where you ate because mess was not your style. You did not want to walk into a courtroom or boardroom and see the opposing counsel was an ex. That one thing gave you nightmares.

So dating lawyers was out of the question. You dipped in every other career field, playing it safe. The further they were from a law career the better. However, after a conversation with your other lawyer girlfriends about limiting oneself in the already limited dating pool, something clicked, and you decided to try it once but only if they weren't in your firm. Darius was your first attempt.

As he continued to tell you facts about himself you listened, but he didn't have your full attention. There was another person who held your attention, a person who though was usually out of sight was never really out of mind.

You heard your phone sound from your clutch resting on the table and both your eyes shot to it. Darius spoke before you moved.

"Go ahead please."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm an attorney as well, Y/N I know you come attached to it."

You smiled, held up your finger to him silently promising it would be quick, then took your phone in hand. You expected it to be Kemi, your paralegal, with files you were expecting, but it wasn't her name on your screen.

MSG Lewis: What're you doing tonight? Going over an endless to-do list of contracts and briefs?

You smirked.

MSG: Not even close.

MSG Lewis: Wow did someone finally decide to live a little and cut loose?

MSG: This sounds an awful lot like the pot calling the kettle black.

MSG Lewis: Plead the 5th.

MSG: The Lewis Hamilton out maneuvered. Say it ain't so.

MSG: I'm close to your place. Just got back in town. Can you be ready in 10?

Your eyes flitted to Darius across from you who was taking the time to check his messages as well. You looked over him slowly, noting again how great he looked in his suit and how you liked the effort he had put in the last 2 dates down to the flowers he brought you and the activities you'd done. Things could progress if you chose to allow them to.

MSG Lewis: Is that a no?

MSG: I'm not home.

MSG Lewis: Okay. Where you at, the office? I can come pick you up.

MSG: I'm not at the office. I'm actually on a date.

You waited a few seconds, but he didn’t reply. Why didn't he reply?

"Everything ok?"

Caught off guard, you looked back up to Darius whose eyes were already on you. His brows were knitted with concern.

"Uh--yeah. I uh--I think so."

"A case?"

You thought about it and technically he was right. You were Lewis' entertainment lawyer. You were his personal attorney who reviewed the contracts after the company attorney said they had. You gave it to him between the eyes, never sugarcoating, and told him what was made with his best interest and what was made to capitalize off of him. However, when your services weren’t needed you were friends. Had been for practically a decade now.

Sometimes you couldn’t believe you’d known each other that long. You’d known him since he was just another F1 driver rather than the greatest. He knew you when you were going through school always on an empty tank all in the hopes of rising above the tax bracket you were born into. A decade later and he was dominating F1 and you’d more than risen yourself several levels past the tax bracket you’d been born into.

You were on the partner track at one of the largest firms in Europe. You brought in more revenue than most of the attorneys at the firm thanks to your high-class clientele. You'd both worked your asses off to get to this level and enjoyed the spoils of your labor often. You clubbed together, went to dinner, and sometimes did the vacation vibe together. You enjoyed one another’s company.

"A client."

"Oh. Everything cool or---," Darius said.

Another message came in just then. "Everything is cool."

Darius smiled. "Good. I'll be right back, men’s room."

"Yeah."

Darius stood then walked off leaving you with the perfect opportunity to check your phone.

MSG Lewis: Is that right?

MSG: Yeah. 2nd date. Well technically 3rd if you can have 2 dates in one day.

MSG Lewis: Cool. Is it going well?

MSG: Yeah. He's made it this far.

MSG Lewis: Cool.

MSG: When he drops me home Ill text you. Come get me then.

Several moments passed before he replied. Again, you wondered why.

MSG Lewis: Cool.

The remainder of dinner you were distracted. Darius played all his cards right, even scoring himself the green light on a little hand-holding action. You had to admit he was smooth. When he pulled up to your condo building he walked you to your door then went in for a kiss. You hadn’t expected it, but rather than pull away, you allowed it to play out. It wasn’t a bad kiss. He hadn’t been too overzealous, only slipped you a little tongue, and had kept his hands respectful. All in all, for a first kiss it was a solid 8.

With a promise to call to set date number 4 sometime next week, you went inside and allowed yourself to come down. The dating scene was not something you enjoyed often. You always felt like you were performing, like men wanted a certain kind of woman, the perfect woman who they could prance around on their arm to make other men envious and that took its toll.

You never felt you had to perform with Lewis. Never felt like he wanted the perfect you. He made fun of you whenever you were perfectly put together for work meetings and said many times he liked you out of the makeup and heels. After another sigh, you took your phone out and texted him.

~~~~~~

-Lewis-

The ceiling looked like every other ceiling he’d ever seen but that didn’t stop him from focusing most of his attention on it like it was the most interesting piece of construction ever. His eyes should have been focused elsewhere but they weren’t. A loud 'slurp' echoed in the mostly quiet room reminding him again that he wasn’t alone.

"Mm. Why are you so distracted tonight, bae?"

Julissa's voice was as smooth as honey and as seductive as ever. He lowered his eyes to where she was kneeling between his legs and took her in. Her lips and chin were wet as she gave him her bedroom eyes. This was not the first time between them. Usually, it would work but not tonight. Tonight he was struggling to even keep his head in the room.

He watched her tip her tongue out and lick from the base of his dick to the glistening tip. Once there she swirled her tongue around him then sucked his head into her mouth. He’d have to be dead for it not to feel nice but that’s all it was--nice.

He sighed then brought his attention back to the ceiling. "Work."

"Aw babe, when you’re with me work should be the last thing on your mind," Julissa said before lowering her mouth down his shaft. When he felt her tonsils he groaned. His body wanted to like this wanted to give her the reaction she was working so hard for, but something was holding him back. Julissa's mouth bobbed up and down his cock sucking and slurping to her heart’s content trying to get him off, but he knew she had her work cut out for her.

He thought back to your text from 2 hours ago. You were on a date. Well shit, he hadn’t seen that coming. That was the last thing he had expected you to be doing tonight. It wasn’t because you weren’t desirable, or he thought no man would want you. For fuck's sake, you were beyond desirable, you were gorgeous and so damn intelligent. He couldn’t figure out which of those made you more beautiful, your looks or your brains. You also worked hard to be where you were, and you deserved all the praise and attention you got wherever you went.

However, sometimes he wished you got a little less male attention--x that, a lot less male attention. He sighed again. This had been going on for 10 years now. Your friendship had only strengthened but along with a strengthening friendship came a lot of other stuff. Stuff like him taking notice of the fullness of your hips or being tempted to peek when you’d been changing in the backseat of his car, or being painfully aware of how your breasts felt against his chest when you hugged.

That coupled with things he had picked up from you, made the unspoken and ignored things that much more—confusing. There were times when the way you stared at him when you thought he wasn’t looking spoke volumes or the way your hand always lingered on him for a few seconds longer than necessary but not long enough for it to be inappropriate, or the time you'd fallen asleep together on the couch and he'd woken to you wrapped around him using him as your personal body pillow and mumbling his name in your sleep.

Yeah, there was a lot of extra stuff, stuff neither of you ever addressed. The only ones who assessed it were his friends. Miles told him on several occasions that he should be careful before he or you fucked around, and someone ended up hurt. That stuck with him, but not in the way Miles had probably meant it. Rather than taking it the way Miles meant, he used it as a means to keep himself in check, a form of prevention from him crossing the line. He knew if he did, neither of you would be able to go back. It would be impossible and was one fuck up worth a decades-long friendship?

So friends were where you stayed until he added another facet--professional. Years passed, dates passed, flings, non-labeled encounters on both your parts passed and through it all your friendship remained, and nothing changed. Except today there was even more extra stuff.

The feel of Julissa’s lips wrapped around his balls sent his hips jerking upward as a curse left his lips. Julissa moaned and giggled.

“Daddy likes that?”

He knew how he would like it more. As quickly as he revved to that thought he steered away from it. That was when his phone sounded.

MSG Y/N: I’m home. Whatdaya you wanna do? Should I change?

His eye caught the time. 1am. Almost 3 hours from your last text and you were only now getting home. Clenching his jaw he took a deep breath. He had no right to be mad or annoyed right now. He knew where this was coming from. You’d been on a date, and you said it was going well. A date going well had a chance of making it upstairs. He closed his eyes squeezing them tightly. He hoped to God that you hadn’t just gotten it in.

MSG Y/N: Hello?

MSG: You don’t have to change. How about some treats and a view?

MSG Y/N: Okay. Still 10?

MSG: Make it 15.

Pulling himself up he reached down to stop Julissa. She looked confused.

“I gotta go J.”

Now she looked even more confused. He didn’t owe her an explanation, that’s not how this worked between them.

“With your dick out?”

He scoffed then fixed himself as he stood.

“Lewis this’s never happened before. Are--,” she began before he cut her off.

“All good, just—not in the mood I guess.”

She looked offended now. “I’m sorry J. We’ll talk.”

He walked to the door then left her apartment without a glance back. He didn’t feel any way about it because both of them knew what their relationship was and wasn’t. She’d agreed. Once he was in his car, he zipped through the London streets maneuvering the quickest route to your place. Thanks to the time it was an easy drive with minimal traffic. 15 minutes on the dot he swerved around to the front of your luxury condo building then sent you a text letting you know he was there.

A few minutes later, he peeped you from the corner of his eye. You walked off the elevator in a short and tight black dress, impossibly high strappy black heels, and a flowy robe-like jacket that danced behind you as you walked.

“Fuck.”

You were beautiful. Just then the thought that you’d gone on a date dressed like this rubbed him wrong. Some other man had seen this view, a view you gave willingly. Clenching his jaw, he looked through his windshield as he tried to push all those thoughts—all that other stuff to the side as he’d done countless times before. He looked back just in time to see you open the door of his car then climb in. His eyes dropped to your legs but seconds later he corrected that.

“Hi!”

Your smile was bright as if you really were as happy to see him as your voice indicated.

“Hey.”

You reached over and pressed your cheek to his for a bougie kiss. The only thing he could think was that you smelled like a treat all by yourself.

“How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Good. Wow, what’s it been? 2 months?”

He shrugged as he shifted gears and took off. “Something like that.”

“Mercedes sure knows how to keep you busy,” you teased.

He tried to focus on the road but from his peripheral, he could see you crossing your legs displaying even more skin.

“What were you doing? You smell like fruits.”

He chastised himself because he hadn’t done a bit of cleaning up before he came. His only thought was you. Julissa’s fruity lip gloss still stained his dick that he couldn’t manage to get hard for her.

“Nowhere special. Just kickin’ it.”

You didn’t press further which said you knew just what he was doing. He clenched his jaw again, this time annoyed with himself. As he drove to the dessert place you told him about what was going on in your life while he shared some bits of his with you. Like always conversation flowed like a calm river. It was something he loved. It didn’t take long for him to pull up to the drive-thru of the vegan dessert shop. When it was his turn at the window he tipped his hat lower and left the ordering to you.

You ordered damn near everything on the menu. You didn’t care if it was cake, cupcake, ice cream, brownie, or whipped cream. You ordered at least 2 of everything. It took the staff a good 5 minutes to prepare it all and when he loaded them in the backseat it was completely filled. When he looked at you with an “are you serious right now” look, all you did was giggle. Fuck, he thought. There went all that extra stuff again.

“There is no way we can finish all this,” he said looking at the bags they’d moved to the front since parking at their destination.

“Speak for yourself. I always have room for sugar, sugar.”

He snorted then shook his head. “Mad whack.”

Your jaw dropped as you gaped at him, and you looked too fucking adorable. You sifted through the bags until you found the dessert you wanted—the vanilla bean cheesecake. Your eyes lit up as you gawked at the large slice that was topped with white chocolate shavings. “It's so pretty,” you gushed.

He watched you snap picture after picture of the treat before you took your first forkful. When you did, your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you let out a completely indulgent, hearty, and dick-hardening moan. The fuck, he thought as his dick spasmed to life. Quickly he moved one of the bags to his lap and looked out the window.

“This is so good,” you obliviously said still munching on cake.

He pulled out the vegan chocolate truffle cake and took a bite. It too was good.

“That looks good. Is it?”

“Try it,” he said holding out a forkful to your mouth.

You paused for a split second then cut off a piece of your cheesecake before you held your fork to his mouth.

“You try too.”

The image that came to mind was that of a new husband and wife feeding each other wedding cake and with it, his throat went dry. He knew if he tried to speak he’d sound like a pre-pubescent boy, so he wrapped his lips around your fork taking the piece of cake then fed you his. Your eyes lingered on one another for a few moments nut when you moaned again his dick spasmed again. with that he turned his head so fast that he was surprised he hadn’t snapped his own neck in the process.

“So good,” you repeated.

The two of you sat there commenting on the desserts you went through in record time. He didn’t indulge in sweets often but when he did he found it was usually with your sugar-addicted ass. You said there were 4 things in life you would never give up, sugar, your favorite perfume, your favorite underwear set, and sex. He believed you on all points. When there were only a few pieces of cake left the silence in the car stretched.

“So—a date huh.”

“A date.”

“I thought you gave up dating.”

You took a deep breath then slowly released it before turning your body at an angle facing him. The hem of your dress hiked a little higher and he forced himself to look away.

“I did. Then I got bored and he asked.”

“What does he do?”

You didn’t answer automatically, instead, you took another forkful or 2 of cake, then you spoke.

“He’s an attorney.”

“I thought you didn’t date attorneys.”

“I don’t but me and the girls were talking, and it clicked that by x-ing out a whole career field greatly decreased me finding someone who could stick around.”

He paused. Stick around? This was new.

“Stick around? Are you—are you looking for something—serious?”

You took a beat then shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought the other day, I have everything I have ever wanted. I am on this partner track, I make very high 6 figures, I have a great condo, my mental health is amazing, I have no debt, no baby daddies or drama, I—I’m kinda a catch but I go to sleep alone 98% of my nights. I come home to an empty place, I have no meaningful text exchanges, there is—nothing fulfilling in my life. I began to wonder if it was time to change all of that last bit.”

Silence stretched again as he thought over your words while studying you. This was the first time he’d heard you speak like this. Usually, you changed the subject or downplayed having any other thoughts than fun, sex, and work. Now hearing the vulnerability in your voice he knew you’d come to a point where all of this, intention-free dating, pastime sex, stress-busting flirting and all the meaningless interactions were unfulfilling and empty. You wanted more, you wanted love, a life, a husband, kids, vacation homes, and retirement funds, you wanted the quintessential definition of it all. He also noted you now found everything he was currently partaking in meaningless and unfulfilling.

Dropping his head, he stabbed the cake still in his hands. The more puncture holes it picked up the less and less he wanted it.

“Fuck, maybe I’m just bored and need a really, really, good fuck.”

He snorted but it was humorless.

“Don’t downplay what you feel, Y/N. Don’t—make what you feel insignificant, so you feel less vulnerable. It’s okay to be vulnerable. It’s you and me here.”

“It’s just—you—I know those are things you don’t necessarily want and you’re happy with the--.”

“Who said I don’t want those things?”

His tone was sharp and defensive though he hadn’t meant for it to be.

“Uh—you did.”

“No. I said it’s not something I can afford right now with my schedule and my contract extension. I didn’t say I never wanted it.”

You looked away from him to out the window. “Yeah, but your actions say a lot different,” you mumble.

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Y/N, look at me. What does that mean?”

You sat quietly for a few moments then just when he was about to ask again you blurted.

“There is a difference between I don’t want it now and I don’t want it ever. Someone who wants it someday would leave themselves open to it rather than boxing every interaction they have into--other things.”

“What if I don’t want to open myself to it?”

“That’s clear Lew.”

“No. You don’t get it. What if I don’t want to open myself to it because I don’t want to find the perfect thing—the perfect woman and then be fucked because it’s too soon and too hard to keep her in my world to wait until I can make those commitments because my world is fucked—I’m fucked because I want the world and will actually keep going until I get it anyone else be damned.”

He could feel your eyes on him, and it was his turn to feel vulnerable and exposed.

“You think because you put everyone in one box it stops what’s meant to be from—being?”

He glanced at you with a pained expression, he knew it. He was actually feeling pain.

“Also—you’re not fucked because you want the world. I want the fucking world. Am I fucked?”

“To be determined.”

You both busted out laughing then. You laughed for a good minute then smiled as it tapered off.

“Aren’t you the tiniest bit lonely in the other side of your life—away from F1?”

He didn’t need to think about that. He knew the answer, but he didn’t want to tell you. The facts were that he was lonely more times than not. That was when he called someone to come distract him or make him feel good. He’d become an expert in the art of distraction. In his life, he only had time and the capacity for low stress and no mess. He had enough of both already.

He felt your hand creep into his and squeeze gently. Suddenly, there was all this other stuff again. The feel of your smaller hand in his larger one was something he really liked. Usually, when either of you took the other’s hand it was in passing or for a second, but the moment lingered and stretched, and still you kept your hand in his swirling your fingers against his palm and other fingers. He liked this too much.

“You can tell me. I won’t judge you. In fact—I’m lonely.”

His eyes slipped to you. Your head was down staring at your hands. It had now moved to trace the tattoos on his hand with the point of your nail as if his flesh were an adult coloring book. He watched you trace the rose on his pinky, then the planets on his ring finger. When you got to the lined arrow down his middle, he was having trouble swallowing again. Slowly, you traced the spaceship then went up across the sword until you reached his wrist.

He didn’t know if there was rhyme or reason to your movements or if you were just absently doing it. Goosebumps peppered his skin when you went up his forearm. He looked at you just before your eyes met his.

“You are?”

You nodded. “I am,” you whispered.

The air was on but inside the car easily felt like a sweltering 99 degrees. He didn’t know if it was from your touch or if it was the shift in the air between you. Did you notice it too?

“I think it’s okay to be lonely especially looking at how we live. We’re always working, always pushing ourselves to and through glass ceilings and when we do there is no one really there to share it with, not really, not in the way that fulfills,” you said.

Your face was closer to his now. Had he moved closer or was it you? Your eyes met again, and the temperature kicked up again. Fuck, he thought as his dick recklessly spasmed, begging for attention.

“I’m never lonely with you,” he said before his brain could stop his mouth.

A small smile lit your face, “Me too. Never with you.”

The smile slipped. “Well—not always.”

He turned to you more now, curiosity filling him. “What do you mean?”

You stayed quiet for a few moments but kept tracing his skin with your nail.

“There are times I can’t—guess what you’re thinking. Times I can’t—figure you out.”

“Then ask me.”

“Would you really tell me?”

He leaned closer. “I’d tell you anything.”

You searched his eyes, but you didn’t move back.

“Anything?”

He nodded slowly. His head felt hazy like you had him under some sort of spell with nothing more than your presence and the tip of your finger and all he truly wanted was to touch you in return. So he did. Reaching across to your exposed knee, he circled his finger around the smooth skin there. You sucked in a breath the moment his finger touched you and that one action nearly had him pulling you across the partition right onto his lap. Nearly.

So there on a hill that overlooked London, in his car, sitting near enough to a lone road light, you trailed your finger across his forearm while he did the same to your knee. The low light that illuminated the car bathed your skin in amber making him feel like you were on a whole different plane of existence rather than this real proven and tangible one. Your eyes held him in place to the point where he felt like he couldn’t move though he wanted to.

Without even realizing it you were mere inches from him. In fact, you were so close he could make out the hidden colors in your eyes, so close he could smell the fragrance on your skin that went deeper than perfume. This was your essence and by God he was intoxicated. Unable to stop himself, he inched his hand higher gripping your inner thigh. A soft moan fell from your lips and that was all it took for him to press his forehead to yours like the sound was tethered to his very core.

“Y/N,” he groaned.

The sheer might it was taking to keep himself restrained was becoming too much. At this point, it wouldn’t take much for him to abandon those restraints and give in.

“Lewis,” you whispered.

Your voice was raspy and dripping with what he dared label as desire. Fuck, he thought as he squeezed your thigh. He was so close, mere inches and it wouldn’t take much to close the gap between his fingers and your core but still, he fought himself. He was so wrapped up in his own battle for control within himself that he didn’t even realize when your hand rested on his upper thigh. You were dangerously close to kicking the lid off the box of other stuff that he’d worked years to keep shut. Half of him silently begged for you to keep going and kick it off so everything would be out in the open and it would be do or die but the other half of him hesitated still. The unknown was a powerful and sobering drug.

Your hand inched higher, then closer to what was the rock-hard physical evidence that deep down, now closer to the surface than ever before, he felt more, wanted more than what was. He wanted more than he could possibly afford. Still, his hand persisted, it inched higher making your hips jerk forward. The knowledge that he’d hit a sensitive spot sent his system into overdrive making a deep moan from his lips fill the car.

On cue in response, your legs opened a few inches more, making way for his hand. Jesus Christ he thought. There was his consent, you wanted him as he wanted you. There would be nothing wrong with him slipping his fingers underneath whatever underwear you wore. Fuck, he hoped they were lacy and strappy. There would be nothing wrong with him letting your hand slide to the aching dick straining against his pants begging for your attention. Shit, he bet your hands would feel incredible wrapped around him. There would be nothing wrong with him moving closer and finally claiming your lips as his. Damn, he just knew they were as sweet as they looked, that they felt amazing. There would be nothing wrong with him pulling your body against his for more than a clothed hug. There would be nothing wrong with him cupping your breasts and swirling his thumb across your nipple just to see the reaction it elicited. God damn it, he knew your moans would destroy him. There would be nothing wrong with him finally learning what you tasted like, nothing wrong with him finally smearing your wetness across his lips. Holy fuck, he knew you had to taste like pure sugar and cream.

His cock spasmed again then your hand made the move for him. In the same breath with his eyes squeezed tight, he lurched for your hand, gripping you by your wrist stopping you just before you touched him. As he did that his jaw clenched, the only thing he could do to stifle the moan at the tip of his tongue. It came out as a half groan and growl instead. The strangled whine that left you said you liked it, and he knew he had to end this here. It took him some time to find the smallest bit of control to open his eyes, but he didn’t possess enough control to look at you. There was no way he could.

“I’ll take you home,” he said, voice low and so close to a whisper.

He tried to keep the longing, regret, and hope from it. Slowly he removed his hand from your thigh hoping with everything in him that you grabbed it and nudged it higher. You didn’t though, so he turned forward readying himself to drive. You didn’t move for several long moments; you remained there half facing him with your thighs still tempting him to go back and take things further. With his hands on the steering wheel, he trained his eyes forward. He could feel all the antsy energy bouncing off every cell of his body, he could feel all the need in him wreaking havoc on him telling him to stop being a pussy and do what he really wanted to, say what he wanted to, take what he wanted.

His hands squeezed so tightly that the creaking of the leather echoed in the intense silence in the car. Just when he was about to say fuck it, you turned away from him. You softly cleared your throat then buckled yourself in. Sighing, he pushed started the ignition then swerved out of the parked spot they were in taking the route back to the city. As he drove you didn’t speak, you didn’t even move. You kept your head turned away from him looking out the passenger window with your legs crossed away from him. Your body language sent a completely different message now. Before you were open and so close to him. Now, you were so far he wondered if he’d turned Miles’ words into truths.

~~~~~

-Y/N- 8 Months Later-

The loud ‘pop’ of a champagne cork echoed just behind you making you spin in that direction. A group was just behind you laughing and toasting to something you guessed was momentous. You sighed then turned back to the painting you were currently studying. The abstract lines and swoops looked so similar to the slopes of a body. The longer you stared at it the more it felt like an erotic image than some random lines and swirls. There was something about it that stirred something in you, something that you’d ignored and buried so deep, something you hadn’t felt for 8 months.

You drained your champagne glass then squeezed your eyes shut. It had been a long 8 months. You’d worked your ass off times ten taking on more and more clients than before. You brought on 12 celebrity clients and 4 major corporate ones which brought Halsey, Boyd, and Crenshaw to the top of the field in revenue. You brought in so much money that you’d gotten 7 poaching offers from firms in different parts of the country.

Thanks to those offers that you hadn’t necessarily kept confidential, the interest in you for partner rose to unbeatable levels. Anyone you were competing against for the position paled in comparison. Those 8 months of ass-busting work led to your name being signed on the paperwork titling you as the new partner at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw. It was so much of a done deal that your bank account proudly embraced your new status.

With that new status came an increase in the events you had to make an appearance at as thee number 1 entertainment and criminal attorney in London. Your calendar quickly filled with meetings, speeches, appearances, court appearances, dinners, and more. You were so booked that the next time you had any schedule free time was 6 months away. You’d catapulted so far out of your original tax bracket that you’d shattered the glass ceiling that tried to confine you and now you wondered if you’d aimed too high.

“Looks like I’m right on time.”

You looked to your right and found Darius holding another glass of champagne for you. Smiling, you took it.

“That you are, thank you.”

“Of course. To you, the youngest and newest partner at Halsey Boyd and Crenshaw and in the greater London area.”

You smiled as the man who’d stuck around through your insane schedule, your hot and cold behavior, your pull you close one minute, push you away the next, your disappearing acts, your reluctance to place a label on your interactions, your give me sex then get gone rule, and more for the last 8 months.

“Thank you, Darius,” you said leaning toward him and pressing your lips against his.

Darius moaned and reciprocated the kiss, snaking his hand around your waist and pulling you close. You felt like you were thanking him for much more than the toast and the fresh glass of champagne. You felt like you were thanking him for taking your bare minimum and it made you feel like shit.

Darius pressed his forehead to yours and instantly you had a flash back to the last man who’d done that to you. In a split second, your heart rate spiked, and an intense feeling gripped you.

“You don’t have to thank me, love.”

Your reaction to the action ricocheted through you making you pull away from Darius. Turning back to the painting, you gulped down the champagne.

“It’s crazy that your firm has so many celebrity clients and that this many are here to welcome you as partner,” Darius said in hushed tones.

“It is crazy.”

All night you’d been rubbing elbows with actors, musicians, models, athletes, and more. All of them congratulated you on your promotion and wished you greater success in the future. It was touching but a little bit overwhelming. You couldn’t let on though, so for the entire night you’d been performing, and you were nearing the limits of your stamina for it. You’d been performing for the last 8 months. Shit, you’d even been performing with Darius. You’d been performing ever since you were dropped off in those early morning hours those 8 months ago.

“Y/N,”

To your left, your paralegal now turned assistant, Kemi touched your elbow drawing your attention to her.

“Hey, girl.”

“Hey, you look incredible,” she said.

“Stop saying that please, you’re gonna blow my head up so big I just might start thinking I deserve a higher position.”

She giggled but gave you a look that said “well ya’ do.”

“The big wigs are asking for you, although you’re now one of them so--.”

You snorted while rolling your eyes. “Then doesn’t that make you the big wig assistant?”

She posed then making you laugh.

“I’ll be right back,” you said to Darius as you walked off to find those big wigs.

It didn’t take long before you found them surrounded by a group of about 10 people. When they saw you they waved you over with large smiles on their faces. You took a deep breath and approached them with an equally large smile.

“There she is ladies and gentlemen!”

The group smiled, patted your back, and welcomed you with friendly banter.

“Everyone!”

The music died down and someone handed Malcolm Boyd a microphone. He was your biggest fan, a black man who’d made unfathomable feats in the field and became an incredible mentor and second father to you. He put his arm around your shoulder as he always did.

“I am filled with great happiness and pride calling this woman the new partner here at Halsey, Boyd, and Crenshaw!”

Everyone began applauding then, drowning out his next words so he paused and allowed them a few moments before continuing.

“She has been with us for 6 years now and in those 6 years she has accomplished incredible things and when she was done with those incredible things she moved on to outstanding things. Y/N has reminded many of us of what it means to be determined and persistent. She tackles every case with poise, confidence, and grace and that confidence has given her that 99% win record.”

Again everyone clapped. You softly smiled at them half embarrassed by the praise but half so damn proud of yourself and happy that your accomplishments were being recognized.

“Just as Malcome said, “Patrick Halsey began placing his hand on Malcom’s shoulder, “Y/N more than deserves this promotion and I expect her to blow all of our minds in the coming months and years. We just might have to add another name to the plague.”

Many in the audience hollered and hooted at that and you couldn’t lie that the greedy ambition within you salivated at that possibility. You still wanted more. You exchanged a look with Malcome who gave you an all-knowing look. You just found your next accomplishment. The founding partners took turns praising you and giving reasons why you’d earned this promotion then raised their glasses to you for the ultimate toast of congratulations. You humbly thanked them and gave a quick appreciative speech before lifting your glass to the audience.

As you drank down the tart liquid, your eye caught sight of a figure you hadn’t seen in person for almost 2 months—Lewis. He stood at the back in a black suit that clearly was made for him. His braids were pulled back in the way he liked when he was tackling more professional events. He looked as good as ever. He lifted his glass of water to you and in response you gave him a tight smile.

The same thing happened that always happened when you met one another ever since that night. Your body went through this strange cycle of reaction, excitement, confusion, hurt, anger, annoyance, and disappointment. It was exhausting. Because of these feelings, you regretted that night. You regretted allowing your thoughts to go so astray that you opened up your ‘what if’ box. You regretted every whisper, every lean in, every almost touch, every lingering look, everything. You even regretted getting out of his car when he pulled up to your condo instead of pulling him by his hair to you and telling him to go upstairs with you. you didn’t know what you regretted more.

The worst part was that you had to continue on like always. Normally it wouldn’t be a problem because that night was not the first night there had been many ‘what if’ nights over your decade-long friendship. The common factor was that both of you moved on and slinked back into the basics of your relationship—comfort and friendship. This time is difficult, so difficult you contemplated passing his case off to another attorney. If it hadn’t been for Malcome talking you out of it he would have been someone else’s responsibility. Instead, you put on your big girl panties and a mask and did something you never thought you’d ever do with him—performed.

When the crowd thinned out and everyone returned to what they were doing you began making your way back to Darius in the opposite direction. You were ready to leave. Before you got far Lewis stepped in front of you stopping you in your tracks.

“Congratulations, Y/N.”

Smiling, you thanked him.

“You look--,” his words stalled as his eyes roamed your body. You noted the conflicted look on his face before it disappeared. “Incredible,” Lewis finished.

His compliment made your body warm and something like hope filled you. Chastising yourself you swallowed the lump in your throat. “Thank you. You look nice too.”

Lewis scoffed softly then nodded. You then tried to slip by him, however, Lewis wasn’t having it. Again, he stepped in front of you.

“In a rush to get away from me?”

“Why would you say that? Have you done anything to me for me to want that?”

Silence stretched and Lewis studied you his jaw clenched tightly. Instead of speaking, he looked down, an act of defeat.

“Can we talk, Y/N?”

“We’re talking right now.”

He gave you an unamused look, but you kept your nonchalant, innocent one. Unexpectedly Miles approached then.

“There she is--partner lady. Congratulations Y/N.”

You smiled then hugged Miles. “Thank you!”

“This is incredible news, Y/N. So happy for you.”

“I appreciate that. Thank you for coming,” you replied.

“You know me, always this fool’s plus one.”

You smiled then the silence returned for a few seconds before Lewis spoke again.

“Maybe we can go somewhere—quiet after this?”

“Unfortunately I don’t think I can.”

“Why?”

Just then Darius approached and wrapped his arm around your waist resting his hand on your hip. You watched Lewis’ eyes drop to that hand and continued to watch as his jaw turned tight as if it filled with cement.

“Oh wow. Lewis Hamilton,” Darius said turning to you, his voice awestricken. “Babe it’s Lewis Hamilton.”

You nodded as a soft smile played on your lips. “Let me introduce you. Darius, this is one of my clients, Lewis Hamilton, and his best friend Miles Chamley-Watson fencing champion and Olympian. Miles, Lewis this is my—.”

You hesitated and in the same second, you felt Darius’ eyes on you filled with hope. Two other pairs of eyes were on you--one giving complete double eyeball emoji and the other searing you almost daring you to continue. The longer you didn’t speak, you watched Darius’ hope turn to disappointment. Glancing back at Lewis you found his eyebrow up with a curious and confrontational look while Miles was the epitome of if ‘well this is awkward’ was a person.

“This is Darius Forrester.”

You felt even more like shit now. Darius shook Lewis’ hand first then Miles’. While he did Lewis looked him over sizing him up. You knew he was wondering if he was the same man from those months ago when you’d told him you were on a date.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m a fan,” Darius said to Lewis.

“Thank you. I appreciate that. I can sign something for you if you want.”

You rolled your eyes at his underhanded jab while a half chortle escaped Miles. Darius on the other hand leapt at the opportunity, handing Lewis the only thing he had, an art bidding ballot. Lewis signed the back but kept his eyes on Darius’ hand on your hip.

“Bidding on some art tonight?”

“I am. There is a piece this gorgeous angel has been staring at all night, it’ll be my gift to her for her promotion,” Darius explained rubbing your hip.

You smiled at him then kissed his cheek. Lewis now looked entertained while Miles’ eyes widened as he finished the drink in his hand.

“Ehm, anyway. So I’m sorry I can’t pencil you in tonight but if you call Kemi and make an appointment she’ll get you on the calendar for a different day for that talk,” you said.

“Plans tonight,” Miles guessed looking between you and Darius.

“Absolutely. I’ve had way too much to drink and plan on taking advantage of that.”

You leaned closer to Darius kicking up your performance another notch. Lewis smirked but also clenched his jaw to that. Miles whistled while nodding his head.

“Go on then Ms. Partner, fly by the seat of your panties or no panties,” Miles teased making you and Darius chuckle while Lewis gave him an unamused look.

“Well, enjoy your evening gentlemen. Thank you again for coming by,” you said before you made a move to walk off with Darius.

As you walked away you placed your hand over Darius’ and slyly slipped it lower to rest on your ass. You knew Lewis was watching and decided to deliver the last blow. Was it petty? Yes. Was it fair to Daius? Not at all.

The next hour or so passed with you roaming around the gallery looking at the art while Darius flirted with you. As you roamed, no matter where you went you saw Lewis from the corner of your eye and no matter how much space was between you, your skin reacted as if Darius’ touch was his. The more you felt that way the reality that Darius’ touch was in fact all his own annoyed you making you feel even worse. You knew what needed to be done and knew it had to be done soon.

The only way you could distract yourself was with glass after glass of champagne. As you emerged from one of your countless trips to the bathroom you bumped into Miles.

“Funny bumping into you here.”

You smiled warmly, “Still here? I thought you and Lewis left hours ago.”

“You knew we were still here,” he accused.

You tried to give an affronted look but failed. He was right. Sighing, your act fell for the first time that night.

“Wow. Feels good to not perform huh.”

You looked at Miles and wondered just how much he knew. He didn’t keep you in suspense long.

“What a twisted web we weave when we practice to deceive.” He scoffed, shook his head then continued, look, I am going to tell you the same thing I told Lewis.”

You perked up then but tried to play it off.

“You better stop playing before somebody gets hurt and by the looks of it, it’s gonna be your homeboy Darius if not all three of you.”

You took in his words then put your mask back in place. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah you do, just like Lewis knew what I was talking about all those years ago, but he still decided to keep playing, and now look where we are.”

Your curiosity peaked then. “What are you talking about Miles? What do you think you know?”

He scoffed. “I’m a straightforward kinda guy so I’ll say I know everything. As the neutral 3rd party who is both on the outside looking in and the inside watching this train wreck, I know everything. I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me, and I know what you don’t tell him.”

Your eyes lingered and the longer they did the more you got his meaning. Glancing away you tried to pretend like his words meant nothing, but you knew you were failing.

“I get it, I really do; 10 years is a long time to put at risk but are you really putting it at risk knowing all you know? You have 10 years of proof. Man up.”

Miles leaned in, kissed your cheek, and whispered, “Let homeboy go so he can find someone who really loves him, someone who can love him. Your corner is full.”

With that, he walked away leaving you speechless and confused. Your corner was full? You had no idea whatsoever what that meant, and you were tempted to follow Miles and get some clarification, but you decided against it remembering the last time you chased down the rabbit hole. When you found Darius again his expression was somber when he told you that the painting he’d been bidding on was outbid and that he didn’t have it to gift you. After assuring him you were fine, you decided you were more than ready to leave.

Darius got the car as you waited outside allowing the cold air to cool your skin. You didn’t care that you were risking illness because it served as a needed distraction. When you felt a fabric drape over your shoulders you bristled at first but then Lewis’ scent circled you and your body relaxed. Even that annoyed you.

“I don’t need this. Darius will be back soon anyway.”

Lewis snorted. “8 months, is that a record?”

“I think it’s a record for you, but I’ve gone longer.”

He scoffed then shook his head. “No doubt, remember Y/N. I will be here long after you get bored with them all. I’m always here.”

Your eyes locked and his should have been radiating cockiness that matched his words, but instead, they were gentle, open, and vulnerable.

“Will you?”

There was no time to reply because a car horn blared drawing your attention. Darius waved at you as he got out of the car to walk around to the passenger side.

“Good night Lewis.”

You walked away from him then slipped into the passenger side. As you waited for Darius to get in and drive off, you stared at Lewis who hadn’t budged from the curb where you left him. Miles’ words echoed back to you then.

“Just like Lewis knew what I was talking about all those years ago, but he still decided to keep playing, and now look where we are.”

“You have 10 years of proof.”

“Your corner is full.”

The word ‘full’ echoed over and over as Darius pulled off. Bullshit, you said to yourself in disbelief.

When Darius pulled up to your condo you sat there marinating in all your thoughts throughout the nearly thirty-minute drive. It wasn’t until you felt Darius’ hand on your exposed knee did you realize he was still there.

“Are you okay? Want me to come up?”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. “We need to talk Darius.”

When you looked at him his expression said he knew just what you were about to say. Being as gentle as you could, you ended things. Although the old “it’s not you it’s me” line fit the situation perfectly. You dug a little deeper and gave him and heartfelt reason without revealing you were and had been in love with your best friend for 10 years and didn’t realize it until his feelings were already on the line. When you finished, Darius remained the good guy he was and told you he understood and that he’d expected this sooner or later. You thanked him for being good to you then began making your way to the elevators.

Halfway there you dug into the pocket of the jacket you wore and froze. When you took your hand out you held a note with your name sprawled on the front in Lewis’ handwriting.

-Y/N-

I’ve thought for months about what to say to you because there is so much to say, so much that has gone unsaid for so long that I don’t know where to start—how to start. 10 years is a long time especially when neither of us has been 100% honest with the other. I want to end that. Please.

-Lewis

You read then reread the note over and over hoping you would know what to do next but no matter how many times you did, you had nothing. So you walked back and forth in the lobby. When your phone sounded, you found a message from Lewis.

MSG Lewis: Ball’s in your court. I’m outside your building.

You froze then slowly turned and saw his car. It had been months since you’d been in a car with him and the thought of doing it again freaked you out a little. Your eyes met at that moment, but he didn’t move. He was giving you the time to decide for yourself. You turned your back to him then walked to the elevators but stopped halfway. After a few moments, you turned back around and walked to the doors only to stop halfway again and repeat the whole cycle. Still, Lewis didn’t budge. He just watched as your internal debate played out physically.

After ten minutes you stooped down and put your down, completely exhausted by your indecisiveness. Taking a deep breath, you held it and allowed your lungs to adjust. It was an action you often did to help you think and calm down. As your oxygen levels decreased your heartbeat would slow and as it did, there was always one particular beat where you figured it all out. It usually came right in the nick of time.

So you allowed your heartbeat to slow and though you should have panicked you didn’t. You thought clearer than you’d ever thought before.

“I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me, and I know what you don’t tell him.”

Miles’ words came back to you again and it was then you gasped filling your lungs with air. After a few breaths, you stood then turned to the doors. It worked all the time. With your head high and back straight you walked toward them then climbed inside Lewis’ car. Without a word, he pulled off then turned back onto the streets.

~~~~~~

Thirty minutes later you walked into a penthouse suite right behind Lewis.

“Why here?”

“Thought neutral ground would make you more comfortable.”

You scoffed and beelined right to the bar, tossing his suit jacket over the back of one of the bar stools. As you mixed yourself a drink you tried not to focus on him, but you did. No matter where he went you knew. You were hypersensitive to him at this point. You’d only meant to make a glass but ended up making a whole shaker cup. You kicked off your heels, climbed onto the bar stool then plopped yourself on the countertop. Once comfortable you crossed your legs and sipped your drink.

“Where’s Darius?”

“Not here obviously.”

“You and I are so alike it’s insane,” he said as he approached you, but he didn’t come close. He stopped at the sectional couches in the middle of the large living area and then sat.

The silence in the room was thick for such a long time you began thinking about leaving altogether.

“Congratulations again. I’m so fucking proud of you. You saw something you wanted and didn’t stop until you got it. You deserve this.”

Your stomach flipped hearing his praise. More than anyone he knew what you’d gone through to get here. It touched you. Looking away from him, you cleared your throat. “Thanks.”

His eyes remained on you as if daring you to look back at him. It was a dare you had to accept. Your eyes locked and you instantly felt it. There was so much to say. Just behind him, you saw something familiar. Squinting, you made out the painting you’d been staring at all night, the painting Darius wanted to bid on for you. It clicked then, the reason why Darius couldn’t win it was because Lewis claimed it first. You scoffed, the man was competitive and dominant to a fault. You couldn’t help but be touched by the gesture though.

Lewis sighed bringing your eyes back to him, “I don’t even know where to start,” groaned, rubbed his eyes then spoke again. “Maybe I’m sorry is a good place.”

You studied him for a few moments then took a mouthful of your drink. “For what?”

“You know for what.”

That night.

Those words hung in the air, and you did your best to remain aloof. Scoffing, you shook your head. “It’s all good Lewis.”

“You’re lying and you know it. I thought attorneys believed in the truth.”

“Who are you to tell me what my truth is?!”

You hadn’t meant to shout it, but you did.

“Because more times than not our truths match up and I am sure that what happened was not all good to you because it wasn’t to me.”

“And what exactly wasn’t all good to you?”

“The way we—I left things,” he quietly said.

You waited for him to continue because there was no way in hell you were going to make this easy for him. He wanted to talk so he’d talk. Lewis shook his head then hung it backward. He sat there staring into the ceiling for almost a full minute before he looked back at you.

“I just—flipped when we were—you were—you wanted--,” he stuttered.

You scoffed again, “Don’t flatter yourself, Lewis,” you said slipping into the barstool and spinning it around so your back faced him.

“What?”

“You and I both know that none of that meant anything to you. It’s all good.”

“Now who’s telling who what their truth is?”

You didn’t take the bait, instead, you kept your back to him and finished your glass.

“You forget, I know you, Lewis. 10 years of friendship and I know you so well that it was my own damn fault that night.”

“Whatdaya know?”

After refilling your glass you turned back around then hopped off the stool and walked toward the large floor-to-ceiling window. “I know that that you were with one of your rotation chicks before you came to pick me up. I smelled her on you. That fruity aroma was all her. I know that because of that tidbit of info, none of it meant anything.”

Leaning against the window you stared down at the view of London. Lights glistened down below, and you imagined everyone scurrying to where they had to go so wrapped up in their own thoughts or existence to even suspect that it all was fleeting.

“Okay, I’ll own that bit. Yeah, I was with one of them but that was only after I found out you were on a date.”

“So it’s my fault. I was on a date living my life, so you decided to get your dick wet. Okay.”

You took another sip from your glass not liking the direction of this little talk he wanted to have.

“I never said it was your fault. It’s just a fact. I texted you because I wanted to see you, wanted to spend time with you and you were spending time with someone else, someone you probably did God knows what with hours before you saw me.”

And with that, you were done here. Finishing the glass you turned and walked to the door.

“Good night Lewis.”

He scurried in front of you blocking your path. “Wait, please. Shit! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Two sorries in the span of twenty minutes, cool. Get out of my way.”

“No, Y/N, please wait.”

You sighed, rubbing your forehead. “I’m sick and tired of waiting. I’ve waited 10 years!”

“You’ve waited? I’ve—.”

Lewis threw his hands up then walked away grunting and talking to himself. He looked insane and it kind of made you pleased seeing it. He always appeared so in control, so aware of himself and his actions at all times. It had all gone to shit now. You stood there debating if you should just leave and let things remain how they were until the day you both just stopped talking and checking in and it ended up going on for another 10 years until you were just people who used to know one another, people who’d missed out on something. It was then you realized you weren’t wearing shoes.

“Shit,” you whispered.

“I wanted you that night. I wanted you more than I had ever wanted anyone, including anyone in the rotation. Do you know what I was doing while you were on your date?”

“Getting your dick wet. I know.”

“I was lying on Julissa’s bed as she gave me head.”

You scoffed, “Of course you were.”

“She’d been going for 40 minutes and still I was barely hard. No matter what she did, no matter the tricks, no matter how nice it felt, barely hard. I was lying on her bed with my dick in her mouth thinking about you on your fucking date.”

You looked at him then. Those were words you hadn’t expected.

“My mind went crazy thinking what was happening. The longer that went by without you texting me the thoughts killed me. As soon as I got your message I left. No other thought, just you. I prayed to God that the date didn’t go well enough for you to let him upstairs. Then I saw what you were wearing, and I couldn’t believe I was jealous. I was jealous.”

“Why?”

Lewis looked at you then. “Because he got to see you like that. You’d dressed up for him, wanted to turn him on with that outfit. He’d spent the entire night with you. He’d had what I wanted.”

Well shit, you thought before walking back to the bar. Rather than making another drink, you took up a bottle of champagne and brought it to your lips.

“Do you know what it feels like to want someone so bad that it fucks with you and everything you do? To want someone more than you’ve wanted anything. To want someone in a way that is new to you, so new that it scares you. Do you know what it feels to have this crippling fear every time that someone is in your grasp, but not being able to resist the temptation, the desire to make them yours? Do you know what it feels like to know that you only burn this bright, this hot, this dangerous with one person, and the burn is all-consuming?”

He looked almost hysterical now. “Do you know what it feels like to want the perfect someone for you? I’m talking molded for you in every way while knowing it’s not the right time for you because you both want too much from the world and because you know that because you burn so hot, so bright that you’ll burn each other if either of you ever let go and let it happen? To know you are so similar that you will either destroy each other or ruin one another for anyone else.”

The look on his face was so damn relatable. He’d just said everything you’d thought over the last 10 years. Everything.

“I know what he tells me and what he doesn’t tell me.”

He was practically ranting now. Spewing every single thing that he’d ever thought, confessing it all.

“So because of all that you try to keep up pretenses that you’re friends and nothing more though you have countless moments where you slip up and stare at them too long, or hold them in your arms from a hug for half a minute too long, or let your hand linger in theirs or around their waist to test boundaries because you just can’t not touch them, or even find reasons to do every single thing together. You take those 2 steps forward not realizing you do because the pull is too strong, then you freak out and leap back 5 steps. You do this for weeks, months, years until 10 of them have passed and you have this huge box you’d filled with all the other stuff between you that you can’t express or fess up to until that box just gets stirred by one action, one moment--one night.”

His eyes were locked on yours. Somehow he’d traveled across the room to the bar and was standing right in front of you. Somehow he’d locked you in the frame of his arms leaving you nowhere to run. Somehow he’d managed to inflate your chest with hope right beside your thundering heart.

“Then suddenly—everything has changed, and nothing can be the same ever again,” he finished, his voice a whisper in the completely silent room.

You watched his eyes lower to your lips and your gut flipped again.

“Do you know what any of that feels like, Y/N?”

There were only mere inches between you now and the sheer proximity of his body to yours made you shiver.

“H—how long—have you—felt this way?”

Your voice quivered in a way that made it obvious to him what his nearness was doing to you.

“10--fucking years,” Lewis replied eyes glued to yours.

He took one step to you, “I’ve spent the last 8 months cleaning my life, cleaning my circle because I’ve gotten to the point where I could no longer ignore that everyone else is number 2 for me. You’re number one, Y/N.”

You were frozen in place, unsure what to say, and even more unsure what to do. He was right, your truths usually did line up and this was no different.

“And I know it scares you, shit it scares me too. All of this does. I know my life is insane and yours is about to be even more so, I get you still have things you want to accomplish; I saw your face when Halsey mentioned adding your name to the plaque. You want it and I want it for you as well as the world for both of us. Our timing can’t be any worse, but something has got to give, love, because I can’t take another year let alone 10 of this.”

You took a deep, ragged breath.

“Where--,” Lewis began before stopping and chewing his top lip.

It was a nervous tick. “Where do I—stand—with you?”

For 10 years he’d been so hard to read, so nearly impossible to gauge, and here right now in the darkness of the room you could see him as clear as day. He was oh so transparent and scared you’d reject him. Scared you’d decide he was more trouble than he was worth. Scared he’d just showed you his heart and ruined your friendship in the process. Without realizing it you were crying; you felt a tear roll down your cheek.

Sniffling, you wiped it away, “Ehm, I broke up with Darius tonight.”

Lewis looked shocked. Clearly, he thought you were still together.

“Why?”

You wiped the other tear that fell from your eye then looked away from him. All of a sudden the room felt smaller than it was, it felt as if the walls were closing in on you. Lewis cupped the back of your head cradling your skull in his palm making you look him in the eyes.

“Why?”

“For the last 8 months, I’ve been hot and cold with him, I pulled him close one minute then the next pushed him away, I disappeared a lot always using work as the excuse. I was busy, yeah, but it wasn’t work. I was always so reluctant to put a label on what we were doing, every time he brought it up I changed the subject never giving him the answer he wanted. Even when we had sex--.”

Lewis took a deep breath, dropped his head, and harshly released it, clearly displeased with confirmation that he’d had you that way, but you continued.

“Even then it was usually always on my terms, and I always wanted him to leave right after. I was—I was always thinking about someone else, something else instead of him, and for 8 months I never felt anything remotely close to what I felt that night with him. over the months every time I saw you it hacked at whatever was going on between me and him until tonight seeing you again it just--.”

You flicked your five fingers indicating an explosion. I’ve become hypersensitive to you, and I don’t know when it happened. It dawned on me that—I was using Darius and it wasn’t fair.”

Lewis searched your eyes not hiding the hurt in his. You took a step towards him. “You’re right about a few things. Our timing couldn’t be any worse.”

He nodded.

“Our truths usually always line up.”

Lewis looked hopeful then.

“Your life is insane.”

The hope faltered.

“I do want my name on that plaque, and I will get it.”

A small smile crooked his lips.

Another tear rolled down your cheek and again you wiped it away, “I can also no longer ignore that everyone else is number 2 for me. Always has been because you’re my number one.”

He clenched his jaw then and the emotion that washed over his face rocked you. Like an earthquake rocking the Earth’s surface.

“I am scared.”

As this tear rolled, Lewis was the one to reach out and gently wipe it with the pad of his thumb. Your lip quivered.

“I’m so scared.”

Lewis pushed forward then, crashing his lips to yours in one swift move. Once your lips met neither of you went slow. The kiss was frenzied from the beginning, both of you wanting it all and not wanting to waste any more time taking it. As his tongue rolled with yours you closed the space between you pressing your body against him. Lewis softly moaned, wrapping his arms around you. When you bit down on his bottom lip he groaned then walked you backward until your back collided with the edge of the bar. Trapping you there once again, he kissed you without holding a thing back and your body responded to him instantaneously.

In a matter of seconds, you both were moaning against each other and completely wrapped up in the new feelings that were consuming you. Lewis cupped your face as he kissed you then ran his hands down to your neck. You couldn’t deny that this felt even better than you imagined. Moaning, you clutched his waist but when that didn’t suffice, you slowly slid your hands up along his toned abs, over his chest taking in the bulge of muscle there. When you wrapped them around his neck, Lewis pressed more persistently against you.

“Mmmm!”

Lewis tore his lips from you and put his forehead to yours. “Fuck, I don’t want to get too carried away. I’m sorry I should have asked first.”

“Consent fucking given,” you said before you crashed your lips to his.

This time you took control. Swirling your tongue with his you didn’t give him time to react or gain the upper hand. You wanted to taste him, and you refused to wait any longer. Teasing his lips, you nibbled his bottom one, taking your time to sensually suck on it until he moaned against you. The vibration shot through you making you feel like you’d only now just begun to truly feel. Lewis’ hands roughly gripped your hips, holding you steady so you could feel that you weren’t the only one finally feeling for the first time.

Heightening both if your pleasure, you sucked his tongue until he groaned. The next thing you knew Lewis’ had you by the hips lifting you onto the bar top. You wrapped your thighs around him and nearly came when you felt his hands pry your legs apart. The heat radiating off of his hand on your bare thigh reminded you of the night in his car and you prayed he didn’t stop again.

As if reading your mind, Lewis met your eyes while he slid his hand higher and higher and higher until his fingers crawled to your inner thigh. Softly he raked his manicured nails against your skin forcing a whimper from you. You bit down on your bottom lip and silently willed yourself not to cum from the anticipation. Suddenly the back of Lewis’ fingers brushed against your sex. Your gasp was loud, breathy, and stretched out as he took his time moving centimeter by centimeter until he’d trapped your clit between his pointer and middle finger. Your jaw dropped all the while he held your gaze.

When he tightened his fingers and rubbed against you, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You knew then he was dangerous, and you were going to cum.

“F—ha—fu-huck!”

Your back arched, head fell back as your body moved like it were possessed. Each spasm of pleasure had you bucking against his fingers until you could hardly breathe.

“My god you’re so fucking beautiful when you cum, love.”

You giggled and moaned as the tremors worked their way through you. “Mmm, orgasms and compliments, a girl could get used to this,” you cooed.

“Good. This is your future.”

Lewis moved his hand, brought them to your thighs then lifted them. As he planted your heels at the edge of the bar, you knew what he wanted. Your eyes dropped to his lips then you moaned. Pulling your dress away from your legs you allowed them to fall back to the bar showing him not only gymnasts were flexible.

“Oh fuck,” Lewis groaned.

You watched his eyes drop to your sex and the look on his face was unlike any you’d ever seen. No one had looked at you like this before. He stared where your thighs met like it was the most mesmerizing thing he’d ever seen, the first of its kind and something he wanted to completely destroy. You now felt like prey spread before him like this, like at any moment he was going to pounce on you.

“Mmm.”

Lewis came closer and closer until he rested on his elbows and was just inches from your sex. The anticipation was killing, and he had to know it.

“I knew you were a lacy knickers kind of woman,” he muttered.

“I take it you’re a lacy knickers kind of man.”

“On you, fuck yes.”

With that, Lewis hooked his thumbs in your underwear and pulled them to the side. He blew out a breath in reaction to seeing you bare for the first time and that breath fucked you up all over again. You threw your head back trying to calm your anxieties, but just when you met his eyes again you found his tongue out sliding against your wet folds.

Oh—my—goooood!”

Lewis moaned and did it again and again until he circled your clit with the tip of his tongue. “Mmmm.”

Lewis pressed your thighs back keeping them spread then went to town. If you’d ever doubted before that his mouth game was incredible you didn’t now. He licked, flicked, and sucked along your flesh making your back remain in a prolonged arch. Within seconds you were whining and writhing as his tongue worked literal fucking magic. The sound of Lewis’ slurping echoed in the living room and that was when your hands grabbed his head. Pulling his hair free you held on and bucked against his mouth.

“Mmm.”

He stuck his tongue out and let you take over. With every buck against his tongue, you called his name and the more the tip of his tongue flicked your clit the more out of control you felt. Your release was so close your body moved more wildly needing it at all costs.

“I’m gonna cum Lewis.”

“Cum for me, Y/N!”

You didn’t need to be told more than once and when you were right on the precipice you felt Lewis slid two digits inside of you. Just like that, your orgasm morphed from a toe-curling release to soul snatching one. You screeched as your body convulsed but he didn’t stop then, he pumped his fingers in and out of you then added a third finger stretching you wide.

“Uuuugh fuck!”

You barely finished your words before Lewis threw you over his shoulder, keeping his fingers inside of you. As he walked through the suite his fingers kept fucking you, readying you for him. When your back met the soft sheets of the mattress, Lewis still hadn’t broken contact. He watched you now as you lay there unable to control your body.

“You’re so beautiful.”

Pulling his fingers free he cleaned two of them off before you sprang to your knees to claim the third. As you sucked his finger you kept your eyes on his. You could see how badly he wanted you, how much he wanted from you, and you couldn’t believe he’d held back all this time. You took your time sliding each button through its slot until his shit was wide open. When you pushed it off of him you took in a sight you’d seen plenty of times only now it was different.

You brought your hands to feel across his torso marveling at each defined ab muscle and each tattoo. When you intentionally rubbed against his beaded nipple you noted the way his Adam’s apple bobbed. How had you never noticed your effect on him? How had you never taken it seriously? Bringing your hands back to his waist you undid his pants. You brushed your palm against the protruding mass straining against his pants which made him shiver as he grunted.

“Oops.”

Lewis scoffed then licked his lips and that was all it took for him to claim back some of the control you possessed over this exchange.

“Of course, you’re a fucking tease.”

You innocently smiled. “I haven’t even begun to tease you.”

“I bet.”

Lewis snuck forward kissing you one peck at a time, over and over.

“Mm, can you take it?”

“Any other night my answer would be yes, hell in an hour my answer will be yes but right now--.”

He cupped your sex with on hand and the back of your neck with the other.

“Mmm.”

“Right now, I have no control left. I’ve remained in control around you for 10 years and right now I just want to let it all go. I want to bury myself so deep inside of you there is no mistake that we belong to each other bad timing or not. It’s you and me, Y/N.”

You groaned as his words only increased the wetness between your legs. You kissed him again, then you turned your back to him and swayed your body against him. Lewis dropped a kiss to your shoulder as his hand crept around to cup the underside of your breast. You leaned forward getting on all fours with your ass poking out to him.

“Undo me?”

He didn’t move for a few moments, and you waited for him to enjoy the view. When you felt his hand rub against your ass you dipped your back lower which only made your ass poke out more. Lewis trailed his hand along your spine that the backless gown proudly showed off. Then he went to your tailbone and lowered the zipper of the dress. Peeping over your shoulder, your eyes locked as you allowed the dress to fall away from your body.

His groan was low—primal. It was all you needed to hear to know he liked the strappy number you wore that was made of fine lace. You expected him to take his time but instead, you felt him peel off the garment leaving you completely naked before him for the first time ever.

“You’re so wet for me, Y/N. So wet and so fucking perfect.”

You spread your legs further then stretched your arms over your head using your head to hold you up. As expected, Lewis flipped you onto your back making you giggle. You roamed your hands over your body, cupping your breasts then sliding them down your abdomen to your dripping core. The entire time, Lewis kept his eyes on every move you made while he pulled his pants and underwear off.

When he stood bare before you, your surprise could not be masked. You didn’t know what you’d expected in your late-night thoughts about what he was packing but you had no way of expecting this. Lewis gripped his length then slowly stroked it as he pressed a knee onto the mattress.

“Scared?”

You bit your bottom lip as you gawked at what the good lord blessed him with. It was unfair and completely intimidating.

“Now I see why everyone in the rotation was so happy being one of many.”

He snorted, bringing his other knee to the mattress between. Slowly he stalked closer like a predator with a deadly weapon in hand.

“There is no rotation anymore.”

“Oh yeah. The LH44 Harem has been disbanded?”

As he crept closer, you slid backward.

“You’re not funny.”

“So am I the first to usher in a new era—a new harem?”

Lewis grabbed your ankle then pulled you back to him making the backs of your thighs slam into the fronts of his. He then hovered over you before dropping an opened mouth kiss on your nipple. Sucking the peak into his mouth he sucked raising your back off of the bed.

“You’re in no harem. I told you, it’s you—and me,” he said nibbling your flesh.

Stared at him letting it all sink in. You brought your hand to his bearded cheek and rested it there.

“Are we really doing this? Like—for real?”

Lewis boxed your face in with his muscular arms and stared into your eyes. “I’ve told you where I stand, Y/N. I’ve told you everything that’s in here.”

He took your hand and placed it over the roaring lion etched on his skin keeping his hand over yours.

“It’s time you tell me what’s in here,” he finished placing his other hand over your left breast.

“You,” you whispered.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Before you could react or even respond Lewis thrust forward sending the tip of his hardness inside of you, stealing your breath, and every thought. A breathy gasp filled the air. Slowly he pushed forward, leisurely filling you giving you time to adjust to his size.

“Haaaa.”

Lewis kept his hand over your heart while holding yours over his as he filled you inch by tortuous inch never taking his eyes off yours. Your entire being was on fire like he was pouring molten lava inside of you with every inch he gave you.

“Oh fu—Lewis,” you panted.

From the way his jaw was clenched, and eyes focused intently on you, you could tell he was feeling everything you were.

“How are you so tight?”

Digging your nails into his chest you tightened your leg around his waist and as if that was his last straw, Lewis flicked his hips forward filling you completely and tearing a scream from both of your lips. Neither of you moved for several moments but with every second that passed by your body blazed. Bucking against him, you slid your hand up to his throat and then gripped it.

“I love you. Fuck me. Now!”

Those words would be your ruin because he did just that without mercy and complete recklessness. Your moans and whimpers melded together rising in decibel and power until the entire room shook with the power of your screams for one another. As he plowed inside of you he didn’t go slow, he followed his basal instincts that were imprinted in his DNA, a need to claim, and dominate.

You’d never felt so out of control in your life. No matter how he fucked you, you couldn’t get enough. No matter how deep he went you wanted him deeper. No matter how he called your name you wanted him to scream it. You wanted every fucking thing he had. You wanted to leave him in shambles. When he flipped you onto your stomach like you weighed nothing, he held your ass in the air and fucked you so thoroughly you’d lost track of how many times you came. It didn’t matter because you wanted more.

He must have been able to read your mind because there was no way he could tell what you needed this soon, you thought to yourself as he grabbed your wrists and pulled you back, so he had your upper body hovering above the mattress.

“Oh my god, I’m cumming Lewis! Ooh shiiiiiit!”

He took advantage of this new angle and circled his hips as he jackhammered into you, fucking you as you did something you’d never done before—squirted. You screamed from the force of your release, but Lewis didn’t stop, he fucked you through it then torpedoed you into another one that you knew would tear you apart. Racing for it, you slammed yourself back into him relishing the mix of pain and pleasure that only intensified when Lewis bit down on your shoulder.

“You got one more for me, darlin? Cum for me. Soak this dick, pretty girl, drench me so I can fill that pretty pussy up.”

“Aaah!”

You clenched around him as you lost yourself and fell off the cliff and into an endless pit of pleasure. You felt Lewis spasm inside of you before he cursed and shouted his release doing just what he promised. Filling your pretty pussy up.

When the two of you finally collapsed on the bed Lewis held you to him spooning you while still being nestled inside of you. Bit by bit you came back to your body and slowly your body went from violent shakes to subtle tremors and a hazy feeling washed over you. Lewis peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder nipping your skin every now and then.

“Mmm. Oh my god!”

He snorted. “You good?”

“Good? Am I good? Are you—at the risk of swelling your head even more than it already is that was--.”

“Was?”

You searched for the words but couldn’t find the right ones. “It was,” you settled on making him laugh as he held you tighter.

“Naw, I was alright, you—you were,” he said making you snort.

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m being for real for real. It’s a miracle I held on that long, you feel unbelievable, so good, too good. You—are!”

You giggled then moaned, sleepiness creeping up on you.

“Don’t you dare fall asleep, I’m nowhere near done with you.”

His manhood inside of you lurched nudging your g-spot and just like that your eyes snapped wide open.

“Watch yourself, I know your weakness now.”

“You?”

“Nope, this pussy.”

Lewis snorted then flipped you onto your stomach again. This time he straddled you as he slowly pulled out of you only to plunge right back in.

“Mmm.”

“Still so damn tight,” Lewis groaned.

“You’re welcome to try stretching me out.”

Lewis jerked his hips forward delivering a bruising thrust as punishment for your your sassy mouth. It was a thrust that took your breath and made you go cross-eyed.

“Mmm, yes!”

“Oh, aren’t you full of surprises. Pretty girl likes it rough and hard.”

He did it again and again, making you hit the bed each time as you buried your face in the sheet to muffle your screams.

“God yes, Lewis!”

“So fucking alike,” Lewis said before lowering his lips to your ear. “Remember I love you 'cause I’m about to fuck you like I don’t.”

Not waiting for a reply he held your arms to the bed then delivered on his promise. Everyone else was number 2 compared to you being each other’s number 1. Nothing else mattered.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#lewis hamilton #lewis hamilton fanfiction #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #everyone else is no.2 one shot #black fanfiction

440 notes · View notes

franzkafkagf · 8 months ago

Note

The fact that Aegon loving his children it’s even book canon. TGC is describing Aegon’s personality as it is hinted in the book and yet people is mad.

Tom literally acknowledges he is not a good parent but he loves his children.It makes total sense that he would have a complicated relationship with fatherhood based on how his father treated him. Or that in his mind, he wants to be better than Viserys.

Thank you anon! You're exactly right, we've always known from the book that he loved his children. Adding onto that is that we have barely seen 20 minutes of Aegon until now, if the early reviews are true we'll get 15 minutes of Aegon in the first episode ALONE. Of course we find out much more about the character, we barely know anything about him!

This made me wonder; what do we know about Aegon?

We meet Aegon for the first time in episode 3 of season 1. He is just a two year-old who plays with a wooden dragon toy and yet the older characters around him only see him as a threat, a pawn or, by his father, as a replacement— watching the episode it's clear to me that Viserys wanted Baelon, Aegon cannot be Baelon. It's pretty telling that the only positive on-screen interactions Aegon has with his father are in this episode. He is a little kid still, Viserys can project his wishes and fantasies about Baelon onto him, something he isn't able to do once his son is grown up.

I think it's pretty crucial to understand this part of Aegon's and Viserys' relationship— the perfect ideal of Baelon (he killed the only woman he ever loved for the perfect son; you cannot come back from that) stands between them, like a shadow Aegon could never escape and a standard he could never meet.

We don't really see Aegon again until episode 6— he is a teenager now and thus a completely different person. The little baby from episode 3 has been shaped by years of neglect, unfulfilled expectations, and the toxic dynamics within the family. What has he become? He is a 15 year old with problematic relationship to alcohol that is used as the punching bag of the family. He jacks off from windows (welcome back Roman Roy!), leers at maids and bullies his younger brother.

Teen Aegon is perceived as a disappointment by his grandfather, who sees him just as a weakling and a pawn to be controlled (a belief he still holds at the start of season 2 apparently). His mother projects her own ambitions, resentments and fears onto him.

These behaviors are all very troubling and someone should've done something to prevent these habits from festering within him; no one did. I honestly feel like no one really cares about him that much.

And yet, there is also so much postitive to be said about this iteration of him too, glimpses of Aegon's potential for goodness and his capacity for loyalty. You might call it naivety, but Aegon seems to believe in the good in people— he trusted Rhaenyra not to hurt him or his brothers if she was to become queen (something I agree with). He also seems to treat his nephews well enough, he doesn't seem to care about the bastard-allegations -> he also seems to be friends with bastards as an adult! Eddard Waters belongs to his entourage, this informs his character— yes he is an entitled prince, but there's also an element to him that is endearingly down-to-earth.

Another notable example is in episode 7, he decided to protect his mother after Aemond blamed him for spreading rumors about his nephews' legitimacy . He never cared about the rumors, yet he stood his ground and shielded his mother when faced with his father's wrath.

Ty Tennant does such a great job here. The scene highlights his complexity— he is not simply a drunken disappointment, a villain or a victim, but a young man trapped in a situation he doesn't seem to be able to get out of.

When we next see Aegon, he is in his early twenties, and the toll his upbringing took on him is evident. His introduction in episode 8 is a hefty one. He is shown sleeping off a hangover, his drinking habit from his youth has fully established itself in him. His mother yells at him, tries to get him to understand the consequences of his behavior— he has raped a maid, something that, disturbingly, is not new for him. This moment speaks volumes about the man the little boy from episode 3 has become: flawed, morally compromised, and numbed by his vices.

Further even, Aegon engages in activities that reflect a deep-seated cruelty and a disconnection from others— watching toddlers rip each other apart in brutal fights shows his general desensitization and apathy to everything. These behaviors are obviously unacceptable, but this is a fictional character we are talking about and you know what these behaviors tell me about him? These are just manifestation of the dehumanizing effects of his upbringing.

He is desperate to be loved but destined to be hated — Tom Glynn Carney

Because characters can be multi-faceted and complex, Aegon fights off insecurities and still yearns for love and acceptance from those around him. Him acting out like this can be read as misguided attempts to drown out the background noise, to try to assert control in a world where he feels constantly undermined and unloved. However, his actions only serve to alienate him further from the people he wants to be accepted by.

Aegon's aversion to the throne and his rejection of the responsibilities that come with it are just other manifestations of his deep-seated apathy. He despises the very idea of kingship and what it represents. He doesn't want to take up responsibility become a pawn, he yearns to run away but he himself knows that he will never be able to run.

The carriage ride to the sept and the coronation are gifts that keep on giving. It's all so horribly tragic. He never wanted this. Crowning him will kill him, he knows this is his end deep down!

He is so preoccupied with what his father wanted, Baelon is absolutely still haunting the narrative— his father's desire for him to embody virtues he never possessed or could aspire to (BAELON) are still at the forefront of his thoughts.

As he walks to receive the crown, he is literally crying, this single moment encapsulates it all so well. He is man who, despite his privileged position, is trapped by the very power and responsibility he was born into but never desired for.

But then, at the very end of episode 9, we see a shift in Aegon— something else to him that will be at the forefront of his character in season 2. He finally gets the adoration and the purpose he always sought after with the crown. The moment he realizes that the smallfolk is cheering for him is the moment the apathy that defined him up until now begins to lose its grip, replaced by newfound determination.

This change in Aegon will be furthered by the death of Jaehaerys, a source of pride and a reminder for him that he is capable to create and care for something precious and pure (thank you TGC) -> I won't go into this deeper, let's wait until the season airs.

In conclusion, a wise woman once said that apathy is death. For so much of his life Aegon embodied apathy, only for the very thing he feared most (kingship) to make him rethink everything. Aegon will be driven by his determination, but this path will lead to his destruction, consuming him until there is barely anything left of him. It will ultimately tear him apart; he is both redeemed and ruined by the weight of a crown he never wanted.

#aegon ii targaryen #tom glynn carney #hotd meta #hotd #princess i love you.#house of the dragon #ales.txt #asks #vizzy t you done fucked up #my writing #my creation #aegonposting

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papenathys · 9 months ago

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hello! i saw you talk abt queer desi literature and was wondering if by any chance you know of some queer tamil novel/literature recommendations? totally fine if not, have a great day<3

These are the only ones coming to mind, it's a bit difficult tracking down primarily own voices writing in South Asian queer literature:

The Truth About Me: A Hijra Story by A. Revathi (non fiction, memoir, trans fem author) – this one is a really detailed and powerful story about a Tamil actor and activist who fled her home as a teen and joined a hijra community. it's obviously rather depressing, and not exactly a story of queer joy, because it depicts the lived reality of Indian trans women outside of the urban queer elites, but it's also an incredible story.

Funny Boy by Shyam Selvadurai (fiction, historical, gay author) – a novel about a gay Tamil boy growing up during the 1980s phase of the Sri Lankan Civil war. full disclosure, insofar as my knowledge goes, Selvadurai identifies as Sri Lankan-Canadian (his father was Tamil) and I'm fully aware of how the 2020 Deepa Mehta movie adaptation controversy worsened things, but I took this recommendation from an LGBTQ Tamil blog online. I did not particularly enjoy Cinnamon Gardens by the same author, tbh.

Hungry Humans by Karichan Kunju (fiction, novel, historical) – first published in 1977, it deals with two Tamil characters, one of whom is grappling with homosexuality, greed, consuming desire and abuse trauma. I have not read this book, with full transparency, and the reviews are very mixed, with some Tamil reviewers saying that while the themes explored are compelling, the writing and authorial stances feel a bit dated, especially on issues of caste.

Siren's Desire by Samirah the Sapphic Siren (poetry, sapphic author)– this is a poetry collection by a Tamil Dravidian sapphic visual artist and poet that centres brown QTPOC as bodies who actively desire, and are not just passive objects tokenized for their desirability. Tackles themes of intersectional queerness, colorism, and healing from trauma. Btw you can directly support Samirah here (shop link) and here (patr30n), as well as on instagram (@/thesapphicsiren).

The First Beautiful Woman In The World by Leena Manimekalai (poetry, bisexual sapphic author)– this is a bisexual poetry collection by a Tamil writer, activist and director who has created several works depicting trans and/or queer identities in an Indian Tamil societal context. Unfortunately, I wasn't able to find English translations of her works; she has more than one sapphic poetry collection apparently, but I could not track a single work down online (if any Tamil followers can help out it will be great!). you should follow her on Instagram nevertheless and support artists who vocally support the voices of marginalized communities and resist alt-right fascist censorship.

#answered ask #yioh #mimiwrites #book recs #books #book recommendations #desi #desiblr #desi queer #lgbtq books #gay #lesbian #bisexual #trans authors #sapphic authors #litblr #translated literature #bookblr #lgbtq

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chaoticbardlady99 · 1 year ago

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Masterlist

I realized I might need one of these....

ACCEPTING REQUESTS

My AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaoticbardlady99/pseuds/chaoticbardlady99

Baldur's Gate <3

Astarion x Reader:

I DO NOT WRITE ASCENDED ASTARION or CNC- just personal preference. You do you, boo boo.

Ongoing series:

Lethal Woman- Astarion x GN! Reader, ongoing fic, smut

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter Ten

I Wondered if I Could Come Home?- Astarion x F! Pregnant Reader

Part 1

Part 2, SMUT, MDNI 18+

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5 , Smut, MDNI 18+

Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me- Astarion x F! Ghost Reader/ MDNI 18+- AO3

Prologue

Chapter One: Music, Regrets, and Party Tricks

Chapter Two: Tea Parties and Fashion Catastrophes

Chapter Three: The Sun is Freezing

Chapter Four: Regrets

Chapter Five: Nisi Pellis Nostra

Chapter Six: Four Clerics and a Vampire Spawn Enter a Tomb (Astarion POV) MDNI 18+

Chapter 7: Skinny Love

Chapter 8: A Brief Intermission

Chapter 9: Performance Review MDNI 18+

Chapter 10: Til Death Do Gale and Tav Part

Chapter 11: Lullabies for the Restless

One-Shots for "Darling, Never Stop Haunting Me"

Haunting Candles Astarion x F! Ghost Reader

Limited Series:

She's My Religion

Part 1: She's Cold, She's Dark, She's Cynical

Part 2: She Needs This Love Just as Much as Me

Part 3: Everyone Wants to Have Their Taste

Part 4: Makes You Believe in Something Above

My Little Mental Health Series

Yesterday I Felt like Dancing- Astarion x GN! Reader

I Took All This Love I Found- Astarion x GN! Reader

Nobody's Fool (Astarion x GN! Tav)

AO3 Link

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5: MDNI 18+

Part 6

One-Shot, two-shot, three-shot (I'm Dr.Seuss without all the weird Seuss baggage)

Joybringer - Astarion x GN! Reader, MDNI 18+, Request

Dying Star Astarion x GN! Reader, Request

One of your Girls : Astarion x M! Reader MDNI 18+ (I tried my best), Request

Like Nothing I've Seen : Astarion x GN! Reader, Request

I Don't Wanna be Your Friend: Astarion x GN! Reader

Admiring from Afar Pt 1.: Astarion x GN! Reader, MDNI 18+, Request

Admiring From Afar Pt 2: Astarion x GN! Reader

Pinkie Promise- Astarion x F! Reader, Smut, 18+ MDNI, Fluff

Triple Dog Dare You- Part 2 to Pinkie Promise

If You Give a Dragon a Steak- One Shot Request

Twists and Turns: Astarion x F! Reader, Gale x F!reader

Never Have I Ever: Astarion x Non Tav F! Reader- Smut, MDNI 18+ (Non Tav Reader)

Maryë: Astarion x GN! AFAB! Reader, MDNI 18+

Repose My Love, For I Have Sinned Enough - Astarion x GN! Cleric of Kelemvor Reader

Brighten the Corners of My Mind- Astarion x GN! AFAB! Reader, MDNI 18+

Halsin x Reader:

Fluffy Halsin Headcanons w/ Male Reader : Halsin x M! Reader, MDNI 18+, request

Other:

As the World Caves In: Karlach x Shadowheart , request

Love and Deep space <3

Now and Tomorrow and Everyday After - Sylus x F!Reader MDNI 18+

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she-is-ovarit · 10 months ago

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"Approximately 80% of all patients diagnosed with autoimmune diseases are women."

For those of you who might wonder why this is the case, to shock nobody, we can add this to the list of mysterious medical conditions women experience that still remain elusive to the medical field.

However, there's some speculation:

Female sex hormones

The X chromosome

Microchimerism

Environmental factors

The microbiome

Antibodies

Interesting, considering female human beings actually have stronger immune systems than males.

To briefly talk about maybe the most overlooked and dismissed cause of high rates of autoimmune diseases in women, chronic stress (which presumably falls under "environmental factors") has been found to be strongly correlated with autoimmune diseases across multiple studies ("...up to 80% of patients reported uncommon emotional stress before disease onset), which can be triggered by even just one traumatic event, and anxiety disorders such as generalized anxiety disorder, panic disorder, PTSD, etc. are extremely high for women in comparison to men.

Women experience PTSD two to three times the rate as men do (source), panic disorder is 2.5 times more common in women and girls than in men and boys (source), and generalized anxiety disorder (which is often treated as trivial and grossly overlooked) is again 2-3 times higher for women and girls than it is for men and boys (source). Behaviorally chronic stress and trauma also often presents differently between the sexes - "fight or flight" for men and "tend and befriend" (fawn and freeze) for women.

Men are more likely to commit physical, psychological, and sexual violence and women are more likely to respond to this violence by continuously be on the receiving end of their behavior and never leaving, even when their children are caught in the middle.

Chronic stress means persistent high levels of cortisol in women's bodies. There is sexual dimorphism in our immune systems. High cortisol leads to Hypothalamic–Pituitary–Adrenal (HPA) axis dysregulation (please, learn more about this).

This leads to heart issues, susceptibility to infectious diseases and auto-immune disorders, an unexplainable debilitating chronic fatigue that can lead to a bedridden life, multiple sclerosis, the progression and reoccurance of cancers, earlier HIV disease progression, and dementia. There's also the bidirectional problem in which HPA axis dysregulation, created from high levels of cortisol from chronic stress in the first place, also in turn biologically causes increased anxiety.

So...

Approximately 80% of all patients diagnosed with auto-immune diseases are women.

And auto-immune diseases are found to be strongly, strongly linked with stress disorders.

And women are several more times likely to experience trauma and stress disorders than males across the board.

And when stress is triggered, men are more likely to throw punches or leave and women are more likely to freeze and people please.

And men are vastly less likely to seek out a therapist to fix their issues or even demonstrate empathy for other men, instead using women as emotional crutches and punching bags.

And freezing and fawning for women often means staying in those same conditions even when there's a risk of death.

And staying in those same conditions when a woman has children and the means those children learn those behaviors and likely develop chronic stress themselves, and the cycle of trauma continues.

And even when women leave those conditions, we're far more likely to end up in re-traumatizing situations as we seek out familiar dynamics.

And even when we're able to break free from this dynamic, because we're far more likely to seek out and stay in therapy, we're still left with trying to resolve chronic, disabling, sometimes life-threatening health issues caused by HPA-axis dysregulation from chronic stress.

While HPA-axis dysregulation in turn generates anxiety, which then creates high cortisol, which results in a feedback loop.

This was supposed to be a short post, but I want to leave off with solutions. Please don't give up on your mental health. Religiously go to therapy. Have extremely high standards for yourself in your relationships. Practice diaphragmatic breathing, meditation, exercise. It's been found that moving your body through exercise, Thai-chi, sports, short walks, dance, whatever (to the best of your ability, if you're able) can really help - just know your limits. If you're not there yet take liquid vitamins as needed (vitamin deficiencies such as low B-vitamins, low magnesium, low good fats, and D3 also cause chronic stress, immunity issues, and chronic fatigue). Make those medical appointments. Eat well, socialize, rest (especially during a PEM or immunity crash), aim for 64 ounces of water a day. Leave miserable situations when you find your chance to. Learn the language of your body and listen to it, and have patience. I've had periods of being bedridden and unable to work. I'm getting better, but it hasn't just been one thing that has been a "fix". If this list overwhelms you, just pick one thing that's most doable. We matter.

#women's oppression #women's health #autoimmune disorders #feminism #global feminism #violence against women #domestic violence #female socialization #trauma #mental health #wellness #therapy #emotional health

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dispatchdcu · 2 years ago

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Lazarus Planet: Revenge of the Gods #3 Review

Lazarus Planet: Revenge of the Gods #3 Review #lazarusplanetrevengeofthegods #lazarusplanet #batmanvsrobin #robin #DCEU #dccomics #comics #comicbooks #news #dcu #dcuuniverse #art #info #NCBD #amazon #comicbooknews #previews #reviews #batman #darkknight

Writer: G. Willow Wilson Art: Emanuela Lupacchino, Cian Tormey, Raul Fernandez, Jordie Bellaire, and Guillem March Publisher: DC Comics Price: $4.99 Release Date: April 11th, 2023 Is Wonder Woman responsible for the destruction wrought by the gods she’s worshipped all her life? Back in Man’s World at last, Diana sees the horrors of the gods’ war and questions all she’s done to ensure the…

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#batman #Batman vs. Robin #comic books #comics #DC Comics #DC Comics Previews #featured #Lazarus Planet #Lazarus Planet: Revenge of the Gods #Lazarus Planet: Revenge of the Gods 3 #Lazarus Planet: Revenge of the Gods 3 Review #Reviews #Wonder Woman

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rikiflowers · 5 months ago

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glitter

you're sparkling and he wants to paint the sight into his memory forever.

warnings: smut with feelings and angst <3

wordcount: 4492

i listened to 'i'm the one' by bloo on repeat while writing

Ichigo Kurosaki endures a lot before he brings up something that bothers him. Most of the time he makes it out inside himself and then at some point the feeling is buried deep inside him. Speaking openly about his feelings? Difficult for him, but it has always worked well so far until now. The stressed and overtired college student feels his nerves slowly running out. The reason for this is simple: you.

When his problem with you began, Ichigo himself didn't know exactly. Maybe it had always been there and slowly dug itself from his subconscious into his consciousness. Couldn't it have stayed there, he wonders as he sits at the table and stares at your back, his eyes glued to your ass for far too long, which is barely covered because you're just bending down to dig the beer out of the bottom compartment. "We definitely need another fridge just for all the beer... with a lock so that you keep your hands off my bottles," you complain to yourself, while the clatter of bottles against each other is not nearly as loud as your complaining. God, Ichigo feels the need to push you onto the kitchen table and elicit something from you other than just your whining. Ichigo just grumbles, and sips his (your) beer while he examines the beautiful curves on your body. The orange-haired man doesn't like stress. No loud grumbling and no one to reprimand him. But you, as his roommate, has a special status.

"You just got home... Can you perhaps sit down first?"

"May I put away the shopping first, Ichigo? Unlike others here, I make sure that there is something edible in the fridge." Your tone is irritable. He concludes that you've had a bad day (Ichigo is clearly an empath to notice this).

"You're just pretending I'm never going shopping... How exhausting," he murmurs more to himself, but louder than intended, which is why you turn around and look at him furiously. Immediately he recognizes the tears that almost escape your eyes. "Fuck you Ichigo."

"I didn't mean it that way," he explains clumsily, as he has never seen you cry before. This is a premiere that Ichigo did not want to experience. His heart contracts uncomfortably at the sight. "I'm sorry..." A bit overwhelmed by the situation, he tries to comfort you. He comes towards you, but you take a step back, the tears already running. Fuck. Otherwise, you always have a counter-slogan in store that you throw at him. You suddenly seem much too small, almost fragile, and Ichigo feels the need to hug you. But you don't let him, running into your room and slam the door behind you. His heart literally slips into his pants as he reviews this short scene. Did he do anything differently than usual? Fuck. He has no clue. Would you like him to knock on your door? Otherwise, you are more and more on your own. Maybe it would make it worse if he imposed himself on you. His head hurts when he thinks about the possibility that he somehow messed up, without really knowing what he did.

…

"Dude... Why are you in such a bad mood?" Renji's question brings Ichigo back to the present. The loud bass booms in his ears, while next to him a woman runs her fingers over his thigh. He forgot her name, which didn't interest him in the first place. The redhead next to him has put his arm around a beautiful woman while he looks at him questioningly. "I'm just not in the mood, Renji..." Ichigo pulls the woman's hand away and mumbles only a short 'Sorry'. The woman does not take this very well, gets up, and struts away. He doesn’t care. "Your roommate, huh?"

The orange-haired man looks at him in surprise. "How do you know that?"

"Ichigo... every blind person sees that you want her and not just for a quick fuck," says the older one bored. "Out of respect for you, I didn't try anything with her."

"What a true friend you are," grumbles the younger one, taking the next sip of his whiskey. "But if you want to share her with me... I have absolutely nothing against it"

"To do this, I first have to dare to take the first step"

Renji's gaze wanders behind Ichigo and widens slightly. "I think today is your lucky day"

"Why?"

"I just saw her on the back of the dance floor," Renji replies with a grin. Faster than his brain can process, Ichigo’s body jumps up, almost dragging the table with it. He lets Renji sit alone, who will be busy with something better anyway. His absence won't hurt him too much. He has to come to you. He can't stand being ignored by you. With a racing heart, he makes his way through the crowd to you. He accidentally bumps into people, and apologizes quickly without giving it another thought. The alcohol in his system makes him take off, he is so excited to see you here.

And indeed. There you are on the dance floor, moving weightlessly to the music he doesn't like, but through your dancing he would hear it all the time, just for you to dance to it. His heart jumps as he bridges the distance to you. You have your eyes closed while your girlfriend sees him and grimaces briefly and taps you. You look at her questioningly before she points at him. You’re seeing him now, your face glittering because of your make-up and the strobe light mixing together. You seem like angels to him right now. Your eyes get big. "Ichigo?"

"Hi...", he replies a bit overwhelmed. He stands in front of you and can't get a word out, even though he wants to say so much. What has changed so suddenly? Why does he hesitate when he hasn't minced his words with you? Maybe the heavy palpitations in his chest remind him how much he actually likes you and he never really wanted to admit it to himself.

"Your roommate?" your girlfriend says disparagingly. Ichigo doesn't like the sound at all, but you don't care about your girlfriend. You take care of him. Far too much. "Can we talk?"

"I want to dance-"

"Then dance with me," he adds immediately. He is not so easily rebuffed. The orange-haired man has made a decision. You look at him with your shining eyes, seem to be looking for a retreat from his side. Ichigo looks down at you and holds out his hand to you. It seems like an eternity passes when you reach for it. His hand tingles as he clasps yours tightly and he is sure that if it wasn't so dark, you would have been able to see his glowing ears. You signal to your girlfriend that you are going with him and he turns to you questioningly. "We're here with her boyfriend. I was the fifth wheel on the car until just now," you laugh embarrassed. The alcohol apparently makes you talk to him so normally, because earlier you ran into your room in tears. This sight still lies heavy in his heart.

"Is everything okay with you?"

His question is drowned out by the loud music, so you just answer him with a 'huh?' and pull him down to you by the neck. The sudden contact of your hand causes him to tingle violently. Your lips brush against his cheek, which almost makes him lose his composure.

"I asked if you're okay?"

"Why shouldn't it?" Your eyes. Ichigo literally loses himself in them. Have they always glowed so strongly? Had he been blind all the last few years and now sees for the first time?

"Are you sure?" You just shrug your shoulders. "Didn't you want to dance with me?" Your body leans against his upper body, deliberately distracting you. It works.

"Yes, that's what I wanted...", he breathes out. He puts his arm around you, shielding you from the people around you who might get too close to you. Your fingers claw into his biceps, holding on to the orange-haired man as he pulls you towards him. Your body presses against his, and you enjoy its closeness, which you have always wanted so painfully. You don't want to think about it now but enjoy what's in front of you right now. Your arms wrap around Ichigo's shoulders as he puts his hands on your hip and guides you. He doesn't need to guide you, because you move with him to the rhythm of the music as if by yourself. It's been a long time since you've danced with him, so you want to enjoy this moment between you.

You can hardly take your eyes off him. The light makes his hair shimmer, while his lips shine seductively. It's an ordeal and you wonder if he might feel the same way. Has he ever thought about you the way you think about him?

At this moment, the closeness to you is not close enough for you. You want more. So much more. The alcohol goes completely to your head at this moment as you claw your fingers into the hairs on the back of his neck and pull him towards you. Ichigo's hands automatically move to your cheeks, and the heat is immediately transferred to you. Apparently, he expected you to draw him to you. "Ichigo...", you whisper his name. Your lips open slightly, want to ask him; finally want to bridge this agonizing distance. The orange-haired man beats you to it. "Please..."

At the same time, lips crash into each other that should have been found long ago. As if kissing him was the last piece of the puzzle, your nerve endings explode. In the mass of the celebrating crowd he will go down with you. teeth to teeth; your affection presses between his lips while he comes towards you. Desperately, you cling to each other as you devour each other mercilessly. Your head is screaming to have your fingers on every little spot of its body, but you're just content with its hair, which you're allowed to touch with your fingertips. You are in heaven. Ichigo bites your lower lip lightly, which makes you groan, only to be swallowed by him with his kisses. Breathless, you separate from each other when you have been accidentally bumped into by someone. You look at each other with glazed eyes. His hand is still on your hip.

"I-"

You both want to talk at once. A smile creeps onto your lips, which Ichigo reciprocates.

"To me or to you?" grins the orange-haired man and you playfully slap him on the arm. "We can still decide that on the spot."

You leave the club together, of course not without telling your friend quickly, even though she is probably busy with her boyfriend. The cool air hits your bare skin so that all the hairs immediately stand up. Ichigo is quick to notice this, puts on his leather jacket, which smells far too much like him. How can you not fall upon him at once? "Thank you..."

He smiles at you. That damn smile. You get dizzy in a good way. "I called us an Uber. It’s on its way..." Ichigo pushes you close to him and gives you even more warmth. But it triggers much more in you. You're wet. Unspeakably damp. Your thighs rub against each other, which doesn't escape the orange-haired guy either. He has to hold back his excitement about it. It all happened for him as if in a frenzy. He can hardly believe that he is now really on his way home with you to push you into the mattress and elicit the most beautiful sounds from you.

Reality hits you in one fell swoop. You're about to sleep with him. Years of suppressed feelings soon reach their climax and it is up to him whether he wants to go further than that. You get scared. What if it's going to be a mistake? What if everything falls apart after that?

"Hey... Look at me."

You raise your gaze, look into his warm eyes. "What are you thinking about?" He must have seen your look, otherwise he wouldn't ask so worriedly.

"I'm afraid of what happens afterward," you confess honestly, which makes him nod in understanding. "What happens after that is up to you. No stress... We don't have to if you decide otherwise..."

You interrupt him and press a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I want it." You feel Ichigo's hand on your cheek and as you pull away from him, you see the warm smile on the orange-haired man's lips. You recognize the glitter on his cheek, stroking the particles. "You’re glittering," you laugh brightly, while Ichigo just grins. It doesn't bother him that you gave him some of your glitter. If it were up to him, you could cover him with all your glitter. The main thing is that it's yours. A strange thought that is not so strange for him.

"Give me more of it," he demands, reaching for your face to press it against his. You giggle as Ichigo's cheeks are pressed against your sparkling cheeks one by one.

When he is done with his work, he stands proudly next to you. "And?"

"Beautiful... Glitter looks a little too good on you" And you mean it. The light of the street lamp shines on his face, which makes the particles shine. Edward Cullen would be jealous if he could see Ichigo now.

"our Uber is here," Ichigo interrupts your train of thought as you walk towards the arriving car. The orange-haired man holds you by the hand so that you can sit carefully in it. His body presses itself next to you. You lean up to him while you block out the fact that the orange-haired man is involved in a conversation with the Uber driver. Your head rests on his shoulder, causing Ichigo to flinch briefly as your hair tickles his neck. His arm immediately wraps around your shoulders and moves you slightly closer to him. His smell swings around your nose, making it even worse for you not to imagine the most indecent pictures. In addition, his fingers stroke the bare skin of your waist absentmindedly, drawing circles so that you get goosebumps. Your body leans further into it so that it looks down at you and smiles softly at you, unperturbed as you feel everything gather in the middle. Doesn't he notice how aroused you are right now?

The Uber ride drags on agonizingly slowly until you finally recognize your apartment complex and thank God for your perseverance. Ichigo insists on paying for the ride when you reach for your wallet and you let him. You feel the tingling on your skin as he gently reaches for your hand and clasps it tightly with his. You smile at him while you are once again speechless about the fact that he lights up in the light of the street lamps. You follow him like a moth follows the light, even if you burn yourself for good.

"Are you tired?"

"Do I look tired?" you reply questioningly as he has to let go of your hand for a moment to dig the key out of his pocket. "It's been a long night for you and I don't want you to get overtired-"

"Ichigo... I want to sleep with you. Forgotten?"

Your question makes the older one pause. "I've forgotten how direct you can be." You can see the red glow on his cheeks as he unlocks the door.

"Do you know it any other way?" You grin cheekily at him when you hear a mock sigh in response. In the hallway, you are suddenly pressed against the nearest wall. Ichigo presses his hip against yours, so you can feel his dick all too clearly against your clothed pussy. A gasp escapes you, swallowed by Ichigo's lips. Your hands reach into his neck, pulling him even closer to you. God, how much you've always wanted this. All the years you've been longing for him.

"Fuck, Ichigo... we have to go upstairs," you mumble against his lips as he reaches under your butt with his hand and lifts you onto his arms. "I hope we don't fall down the stairs now because you misjudged your strength"

"You're just a flyweight to me," he just replies, kissing your chin as he carries you up the stairs. You giggle to yourself while the orange-haired man shows zero struggle. Hot.

Once at the top, he finally lets you down. Together you literally rush into the apartment and fall into each other's arms. The door slams shut and your arms wrap around his body. Like a starving woman, you devour his lips, your tongue enters his mouth, which he opens so willingly. Ichigo growls into your mouth, his tongue pressing against yours. "Ichigo... Bed," you breathe against his lips. He nods willingly, grabs you by the wrist and literally pulls you with him into his room. You're rarely in his room and you've never sat on his bed. With ease you let him press you onto the mattress. He stands in front of you, looks down at you with his beautiful brown eyes. "Am I dreaming?"

You grin at his question. "I hope we both aren't dreaming," you reply as you watch Ichigo undress. "Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?"

"How long?" he replies roughly.

"Ever since I've known you... all the time you brought women into our apartment" Ichigo groans when you're finally honest. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

You just shrug your shoulders, pulling the annoying top over your shoulders and now sit in front of him in a bra. Ichigo kneels in front of you, and helps you take off your skirt. His fingers stroke your thighs before he takes your leg, giving it tender kisses. "I always thought you only saw me as a friend. I had to distract myself with all these women because I knew you were next door and I couldn't have you..."

Your heart beats faster as you watch him cover your legs with kisses and finally drop the piece of cloth to the floor. "The thought of how jealous you were makes me happier than it should..." whispers the orange-haired man, grabbing the flesh of your thighs and pulling you towards him all at once. Then I don't even want to know how you felt when I brought someone with me."

He groans annoyed. "Don't remind me of that idiot... I was beyond jealous because he wasn't good enough for you."

"And you're better?"

He grins, grasps your pussy with his hand. You hiss in surprise. "You'll see that on your own"

And he will be right. His fingers push the piece of fabric to the side and press into your wetness. A gasp escapes you as he sinks another finger into you. "Fuck... You're so wet"

You only agree with him cautiously, as his fingers hit the exact point that sends lightning through your body. "Ichigo..." you exclaim as he runs his thumbs over your clitoris, starting to grin as he hits exactly the right points with you. I want to lick you... May I?"

"Oh god, please" He laughs brightly because you answered him way too quickly and euphorically. The orange-haired man bends your legs and pushes you back again. But you lean on your elbow because you want to watch. He grins, continuing his action. Finally he pulls down your panties and throws them to your skirt. Ichigo bends down, kisses your vulva before he spreads your lips and dips his tongue directly into it. The muscle hits every corner of your pussy. You reach into his soft hair, pushing him even deeper, which hardly seems to bother him. He literally slurps you out, buzzes against your pussy so that this tingling sensation travels directly to your clitoris. "Ichigo... so good...", you blurt out between high-pitched moans, which spurs him on to suck on your bundle of nerves. Reflexively, your body tries to close your legs, but Ichigo grabs your thighs, holding them in place. You rub your pussy against his face, which makes Ichigo moan against your wetness. He inserts one finger into you for support, before the second follows to bring you over the threshold. God, it seems like the first time a man has put so much effort into making you come. Your fingers are literally pulling on his hair, looking for a balancing regulation, as Ichigo's head between your legs literally makes you lose the ground under your feet.

Tirelessly, his fingers thrust into you, rubbing over the spongy point. Your orgasm suddenly sloshes over you like a raging torrent. Everything in you clenches around his fingers as you come with his name on your lips. Ichigo holds your trembling leg firmly in his hand as he continues to slowly move his fingers inside you to guide you through your climax. When you turn your gaze back to him, you see him literally piercing you with his gaze. Apparently, he was watching you the whole time.

Breathless, you pull him towards you, and see his half grin as he pulls his fingers out of you. Ichigo supports himself next to you and grabs your cheek. Your breath is still irregular as you look at it with lustful eyes. Your hand reaches for his hand before you bring it to your lips and kiss the back of his hand. Ichigo doesn't let you out of his sight. You bring his fingers, which were just inside you, to your lips. You put them in your mouth and suck on them, tasting yourself. You hear a deep moan from the orange-haired man's lips, and feel his fingers twitch in your mouth as your tongue dances around the long fingers.

Ichigo grabs the back of your head, pulls you towards him with it. "Are you trying to drive me mad for good?" You grin against his lips before you kiss him passionately, straining his lower lip between your teeth. Ichigo growls, his fingers grabbing your ass. "I need to feel you, baby..." he whispers against your maltreated lips. You nod, reach for his dick in his boxer shorts. You can hardly embrace it, it is so big. No wonder why the women kept the whole house awake with their moans. Now you can experience it for yourself. "If you don't stop, I'll come in your hand...", he manages to exert himself, carefully pulls out your hand; Forehead to forehead as your breaths blend. "I have to feel you..."

"How could I say no?" you whisper back. "How do you want me?"

"On your back. I have to see your eyes when you come back."

"Kinky..." you smile, but his gaze is suddenly strangely serious.

"That's what happens when you're in love..."

Before you can answer properly, he pushes you down on the mattress. Your mind races as you look up at him. Ichigo shouldn't have said that. His lips were quicker to spit out the words than his head could have registered. "Ichigo... I dare you, if you back down now. We can talk about that afterward," you assure him, lasciviously spreading your legs to invite him. "Come here"

Ichigo doesn't need to be told twice. That's how long he's dreamed of it. If it falls apart after that, then at least he knows that it won't work out. He only wants to live in the feeling once.

And so he turns off his brain as you wrap your legs around his waist and he slowly sinks into you with a fluid movement. He can penetrate with ease because you are incredibly moist, which he clearly feels in you. It demands all his self-control not to lose himself completely. "Ichigo...", you moan stretched out as you feel him inside you. Your fingers claw into his shoulder as he growls your name against the crook of your neck. Ichigo's face tenses as he starts to move inside you. You press your lips back to his. Teeth crash into each other as you explore your oral cavities slowly and lasciviously. Ichigo's thrusts are deep and sharp, pressing you against the headboard again and again, which the orange-haired man prevents with his hand on your head. "You feel so good..." , he groans, snapping your pussy apart with his harsh thrusts. He nearly pulls himself out completely to thrust long strokes into you, making you a mess under him. “I always wanted you…so pretty under me”

You just answer with whimpers, attacking his neck with wet kisses.

It bubbles many sweet things against your lips that you swallow again and again. Sweat covers your body as you thrust your hips against his in rhythm. "Fuck... I don't last long... I'm sorry"

"It's okay... I want you to come," you breathe panting, literally scratching his back. "You're killing me..." His fingers wander between your legs, stroke your clit. With skillful movements, he manages to bring you to a second orgasm in such a short time. "Look at me," he snaps at and just at that moment you manage to look at him when the climax breaks over you and you just manage to keep your eyes open before Ichigo pulls out of you and he squirts his warm orgasm onto your belly. Breathless, you look at each other, completely overwhelmed by the effects of orgasm.

"Oh fuck wait..." he mumbles as he realizes that his cum is running down you. He rummages around in his closet drawer while you try to process what just happened. You have finally slept together. It happened.

Ichigo pulls a few tissues out of the package he just fished out and begins to gently wipe your belly. A gentle gesture that will make butterflies flutter in your stomach. "Ichigo..."

"Yes?"

When he's done, he puts it on the cupboard next to it. "Was that serious earlier?"

Embarrassed, he looks at the crumpled bed linen. "Yes... Does that change anything now?" His voice trembles as he asks this. It makes your heart beat faster.

"Yes, our relationship status."

"Huh?"

You laugh. He looks at you like an embarrassed deer. "Do we want to continue to be just friends and roommates or upgrade to boyfriend and girlfriend?" you continue, waiting for his answer.

A happy smile adorns his lips, which perfectly match his shining eyes. "I'd rather take the second one...", he replies, moves closer to you and lovingly brushes the sweaty strands of hair out of your face. There's glitter all over my bed..." he whispers against your lips while you just grin crookedly, give him a butterfly kiss on the nose. "Then you should look at yourself in the mirror right away..."

#kurosaki ichigo x you #kurosaki ichigo x reader #ichigo kurosaki #smut and angst #smut and feelings #bleach smut #ichigo brainrot #i love ichigo

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