#also this is like. fucking beautiful how did i do this

[beautifullilacsky]

Babygirl. We have come so far.

Today, your thoughts turned around to the past. They shook hands with the way we used to treat ourselves. It started off on a note I'd never expect it to start off of, though; look at that picture of me, the one in the natural pool in Madeira. The first time I looked at it, I was truly surprised and shooketh. "Damn, I look thin", as to which niklas said that that's how I always look, I am, in fact, thin. I didn't count, but I think I asked him at least 3 times. "Do I truly look like this?" He did say that the angle might be making me look extra thin, but yes. Suddenly, it all clicked. How to him, I can seem so fragile. So fragile that he'd always let me walk first on hikes to make sure the pace is okay, always carrying the backpack himself. The way he is scared of hurting me, like, physically. The picture looks like a tiny, thin, and fragile girl. Yeah tbh, she also doesn't look particularly strong. You can see her collarbones. Her ribs. Her shoulders. Tbh, she also looks a bit like a petshop. I do think the gopro did something with the angle there, u can't tell me my head is out of proportion to my tiny body, lol. My point is. Today, I was doubting whether or not I should eat those cookies. After thinking if it'd make me thick, I remembered. I am v thin, more weight wouldn't be so bad.

I never expected to truly feel skinny. Or well, 'too skinny', at least. To think I could gain some weight; it wouldn't be a problem. That is very new to me. After 25 years. Some of those years being spend hating my body and my belly and feeling overweight, even if my teacher even told me that being underweight is dangerous, her eyes seemingly insinuating the obvious.

Yet here I am. This one picture. And tbh, the other pics or videos of this vacation, don't have the same vibe. So I do think it's the angle. And maybe a bit of a fishbowl effect. Either way. It got me thinking. And suddenly I was thinking of it again: boobs. I am also reading 'the 7 husband's of Evelyn Hugo', who seduced men with her big boobs. Somehow, booby enlargement came to my mind again. Why? It's been so long. I have learned to love my boobs, yet this blast of the past came into my head. Actually,.. it is just a thought. It is actually nice. A reminder of where we came from.

How I hated my body in the past. And here I am. Loving every single part of it. Frankly, I love my boobs the way they are. Sure, they might not be super big, but I don't need to hold them when I run or sprint down the stairs. Sure, they are soft in the middle instead of pointy, but I think it's fascinating how certain temperatures, moods and touches can change that. Sure, they don't touch, but at least it also won't create a hot brew in there or trap my clothes inbetween or underneath my boobs. Honestly, they are truly perfect. (Even the little pimple on there right now. Even though I am a bit scared; is it truly a pimple? It should be, it behaves like one for sure.) I can cup one into my hand; it is a perfect fit. As if they were made to be held so gently and smoothly. So filled with love. So, ... true. My hand can touch all of its beautiful creases. They don't overflow my hands, nor do I need to search to find them. Sure, some might have bigger boobs, but not everyone likes that. Some people get attention just because of it. I am truly happy to be able to say that a lot of people just like me for my personality. The looks are for sure also there, but at least my boobs don't get eye-fucked or objectified. I am myself. Perfect the way I am. And I am grateful to be this exact way. I think my boobs are adorable, they are cute, and truly. Truly beautiful. Thanks boobs, for being w me always. And I'm sorry that I didn't see the beauty of you guys for a part of my life. I am happy that I do now, since a while. Love u, boobies. Lol.

Anyhow. I wish to send myself love letters. See this is a loveletter to one of the bodyparts which I was insecure about in the past. Let me show them some true love, which is exactly what they deserve.

[ivyasproperty]

Necklace.

agathario x fem!witch!reader

summary - You made an impulsive decision and bought a necklace adorned with gems. Why?

warning(s) - some cursing

word count : 967

A/N : here reader is also a witch, but it's mentioned only once soooo..

men / minors dni!

You have no idea why you bought it. You were already struggling financially, so why in gods name did you buy a necklace worth almost your entire fortune?! You tried to calm down your racing mind, sweating buckets as you try and figure out why you made the impulsive decision to buy a necklace. You thought maybe because it was beautiful, adorned with purple and green gems, but you've seen multiple magnificent things in life and you've never made the stupid decision to buy it, even when you wanted it so badly, so when egged you to buy this monstrosity?

As you paced around your living room, necklace in hand, a sudden knock at your front door caught your attention. With how loudly and rapidly they were knocking, they've probably been at it for awhile now. You rushed to the door, not wanting to keep the person waiting and seem like a bad person, but stopped halfway. You were living in the middle of nowhere. The reason being running away from the witch hunters. Yes, you had powers, powerful ones in fact, but harming others never sat right with you. And if harming someone or something didn't sit right with you, don't even mention killing someone.

So as quickly as you could, you placed the necklace down and grabbed a nearby frying pan, just for extra measures, and rushed to open the door, but not before peeping through the windows. After seeing who was outside, you sighed in annoyance and reluctantly opened the front door. Standing there was the one and only infamous witch killer, Agatha Harkness, and beside her, Lady Death, also known as your past lovers. Things were rocky after your break up, and even though it took you awhile for your heart to heal, you managed. But seeing them in front of you brought back all the buried up emotions you spent forever to get over.

"What do you want?" "We need somewhere to camp out, pet.", said Agatha. Before you could even reply her, she brushed past you and welcomed herself into your humble abroad. "Yes, do come in," the sentence was very obviously dripped with sarcasm, but Agatha decided to ignore it. You looked back to the front door, not surprised Rio wasn't standing there, she probably teleported herself inside. As you closed the door, Agatha spoke up "What's this necklace doing here? I have to say, it is a beauty, but aren't you like... broke?" "Don't be rude." said the green witch. You snatched the necklace out of her hands and rolled your eyes, "It's none of your business, Agatha."

And as you walked away to the kitchen, necklace still in hand, that's when you realized the reason you bought the necklace Well fuck, you were in deep shit. You kept asking yourself a certain question, didn't you get over them? And you always said yes, but I guess your dumbass still hasn't gotten over them. But who could blame you? Agatha's crystal blue eyes, Rio's dark brownish hair.... oh god you were trailing off again.

As you stood there in a daze, Agatha and Rio stared at you with utter confusion. You've always been a responsive and quick-witted person, so seeing you just standing there in your own world was certainly a new experience. "What's wrong with her?", whispered Agatha, "How the hell am I supposed to know?" You came back to your senses while they were whispering, not sure how to stay calm. You were supposed to be over them! Gone! Out of your heart and mind! But as you looked back down at the necklace in your hands, you couldn't help the longing stare you gave to both the necklace and them.

Rio could sense it, the longing, the wanting them back. She nudged the witch standing beside her, whose attention was occupied by the horrid decorations of your home, which you tried make do. As she looked at you, she too couldn't help but notice the stare you were giving them. To be honest, the reason the two witches came to your doorstep was because they wanted to try and mend the relationship you guys once had. Sure, they were content with each other, but you were still etched into their minds. And with that, they just needed to exchange a knowing look and went along with their plan to win you back.

You didn't notice them moving from their spot, too focused on the necklace in your hands. So it was an understatement at the fact you were startled when two pair of hands wrapped around you. But you didn't jump away from their embrace, instead leaning into the two pair of arms. You missed this, the warmth they radiated from their bodies. Rio took the necklace and clipped it around your neck as Agatha hugged you tighter, not willing to let go as she inhaled your scent, not wanting to forget it even though it was already embedded into her senses.

"I missed this," whispered Agatha. "We all did, and we're sorry, darling. For what we've done. Agatha and I were wondering if.... you'd like to give it another chance?" It was rare for Rio's voice to be this soft. She's always been this cold hearted woman, but the vulnerability in her voice didn't startle you, instead it brought a warmness to your heart. You stood there in their embrace for awhile, contemplating whether you should accept their proposal or not. "Last chance," you whispered.

And as you three stood there together, their hands traveled to the necklace around your neck. And you felt a tingly sensation in your stomach. You should've realized the reason you bought the necklace sooner, considering how the gems that adorned it were the signature colors of your two lovers.

A/N : not that big of a fan of this but whatever!!!! hope you enjoyed this! don't hesitate to give a request!!! ><

[love-fictional-ppl]

5 (smut)with remus lupin

AHHHHH DADDY REMMY

Don’t Make a Sound!

Summary: Remus gets a call from his best friend while you’re having sex and tells you to keep going.

Pairings: Dom!Remus Lupin x fem!reader ft. Sirius Black

Warnings: modern au!, language, smut, praise and degradation , use of the word ‘Daddy’, hairpulling, stomach bulge, size kink, face fucking, facials, etc.

Prompts: 5.) *Character A gets a phone call while having sex* “you gotta be good, okay?”

Today was Remus’ day off from work and he enjoyed it the best way he knew how, the two of you spent the majority of the day lounging around without a care in the world.

You couldn’t remember whose idea it was but eventually the two of you wound up on the couch with you bouncing up and down on his cock. Remus did most the work, lifting you by your hips, he would occasionally fuck up into you meeting the set pace. You babbled nonsense drunk on the feeling of him inside of you.

Remus sucked on your exposed nipples while continuing to fuck you on his dick. You let out quiet moans, enjoying the sensual moment with your boyfriend.

“You’re so beautiful,” Remus compliments from underneath you. “Could stay like this forever.”

You grabbed Remus by the collar of his shirt and pulled him in for a steamy kiss. As you rode the dorky brunette, you could feel the slick dripping down and pooling on the couch and Remus’ lap.

“Mmmgh- I love you, daddy,” you moaned out — eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“Aww, I love you too, sweet girl.”

Remus moved his hands from your waist to your ass cheeks. Remus would occasionally land a light smack to your ass. Remus grabbed you by the jaw and pulled you in for a slobbery kiss. When he was done he lifted you up so he could fuck up into you at an angle that had you seeing stars.

You let out a fucked out laugh while also choking on your moans. Suddenly Remus stops, and you quickly realize why; Remus’ phone is ringing. And it’s the annoying ‘who let the dogs out’ ringtone Sirius had set for himself. The lycanthrope raised his index finger to his lips in a shushing expression and grabbed his phone.

“You got to be a good girl for me, okay?” You nodded your head enthusiastically.

Remus accepted the call and pressed his phone to his ear. “Hey, mate,” he spoke into the device. You could hear the faint sound of Sirius rambling ecstatically.

You slowly grind yourself against Remus, you see him visibly restraining a groan. You smile at the effect you have on him. Remus had zoned out of his conversation, which Sirius picked up on because he asked, “You good?”

Remus glared at you, “yeah I’m good, man. I’m just trying to do something right now.” Sirius continued his rambling unsuspectingly.

You hid your face in Remus’ neck to prevent yourself from making noise. Every now and then Remus would respond when appropriate, stumbling over his words.

Remus eventually decided he had enough of your teasing and ended his conversation with Sirius.

“Alright, I gotta let you go. I’ll talk to you sometime later, okay?” Remus spoke into the speaker. The two men said their goodbyes and Remus tossed his phone to the floor

Before you knew what had happened Remus flipped you on all fours. He pushed his hand into your lower back to force you into an arch, Remus then grabbed you by your hair and pulled your head back.

“You think that was cute?” Remus asks harshly. “Fucking whore.”

You moan, harsh words and pain going to straight to your pussy. You clench around Remus’ cock, feeling how much deeper he was at this angle, you could feel him in your stomach. Remus slammed into you at an impossible pace, your eyes rolled into your head — Remus fucking you dumb.

Fucked into oblivion, you pleaded to Remus, “Please! Please- I’m sorry! Daddy!”

Remus pulled your hips back to meet him in his thrusts. Remus groaned feeling how tight you clenched around him, sucking him in with a vice like grip. The brunette continuously hit your sweet spot, making you twitch.

Remus threw his head back and chuckled, “f-fuck, you feel so good around me, sweetheart.”

Remus lifted you so back was pressed against his chest, both of you on your knees. Remus grabbed you by the hair to force your head to look down, down at the bulge of his cock is your lower stomach.

“Fuck, you see me in your tummy?” Remus spoke in a raspy voice.

You could feel Remus twitch inside of you, enjoying the sight. Remus knocked the wind out of you with the force of his thrusts — bullying your poor sweet spot. You felt your stomach tighten, the familiar sensation of an orgasm approaching.

“Remmy! Please I need to cum!” You begged for release.

Remus looked down at you displeased, “that’s not my name. What’s my name, slut?”

“Daddy! Please, daddy!” You were begging pathetically, “I wanna cum!”

“Much better,” Remus praised.

The brunette looped his arms under your thighs and lifted you up, fucking into you at an even more intense pace than before. Your head fell back on Remus’ shoulder and you came with a cry. You continuously thanked your boyfriend through your orgasm.

Remus slowed his thrusts and eventually came to a halt as you came down from your high. Remus pulled out and laid you on your back before straddling your chest.

“I didn’t cum yet,” Remus states looking down at you. “Open wide, love.”

You opened your mouth expectingly, Remus wasted no time in working his cock in between your lips. You placed your hands on Remus’ waist, needing to hold onto something. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling aroused from the desperation of the man.

Remus held a hand in your hair and bucked his hips into your face wildly, he used his free hand to attempt to hide the moans and groans he let escape his lips. You hallowed your cheeks to add to the pleasure and massaged the underside of his shaft with your tongue, tracing the prominent vein that ran up to his tip.

It didn’t take too much longer for Remus to blow his load, he pulled out and you stuck your tongue out for him. Spurts of cum landed on your tongue, cheek, nose, and forehead. A full blown facial. Remus stood up, allowing you to lift yourself up, he disappeared to the kitchen and grabbed a wet rag to wipe your face.

But, little did either of you know, Sirius never hung up and was listening to the entire thing. Sitting in his room he imagined fucking your tight cunt whilst fucking his fist. After cumming in his hand, he hung up as he should have done in the first place. Now Sirius had to live with the guilt of jacking off to his best friend fucking his girlfriend.

A/N: sorry ending was a little rushed. This has been in my drafts for a minute now but I finally finished it!! If anybody would like to be added to a taglist for Remus, or any HP character lmk! Not proofread.

[nakylvr]

sleepy car sex with dani after she's done dealing YEAH I NEED DAT

well yes! also dark haired dani...come back pls...

— BACKSEAT 🛡️

warnings/tags: language, nsfw content, f!reader, dealer!dani, dom!dani, sub!reader, car sex, oral

minors do not interact

it's one in the morning, pitch black outside excluding the headlights of the other car shining through the windshield as you sit in the passenger seat of your girlfriend's car. why? because you went along with her to deal for someone. you usually went when she did, but rarely was it ever so late into the night. you understood, though, dani was quite notable and had high demand, which resulted in having to meet people in the middle of the night. you yawn as you scroll through twitter on your phone, your head leaning against the window. you don't even realize she's finished with it until the drivers door opens and she gets in.

"sorry. he was bitching about how much it was, not like i told him already," dani says as soon as she closes the door. she looks over at you, catching onto your tired eyes and sighing softly. "you don't have to come when it's this late, y'know."

you look at her when she gets in the car, turning off your phone and shaking your head. "i don't mind," you reply. "really."

a smile grows on her face as you respond, admiring the way you still look beautiful even in the middle of the night, no makeup, your hair tied up into a messy bun. she doesn't even realize how much she's staring until she hears your giggle.

"why are you looking at me like that?"

"nothing," daniela shakes her head. "you just look beautiful right now."

your cheeks heat up at her words, glancing away from her eyes on you. "shut up, i literally look a mess right now," you reply.

"not to me," dani says, smiling still. "you'll always be beautiful to me." her voice gets quieter as she leans over the center console, inching closer to you. "i really appreciate you coming with, y'know," she murmurs.

a shy smile grows on your face as she leans closer to you, your gaze meeting hers with your cheeks getting hotter at the way she's looking at you. "of course," you respond quietly.

"i love you," dani mumbles before closing the gap and kissing you softly.

a giggle escapes your mouth as she presses her lips against yours, smiling into the kiss. what you thought was merely an innocent little kiss, dani bites down on your bottom lip, resulting in a quiet whine coming from you as she tugs on it. you can already tell what she wants, judging by the way she slides her tongue into your mouth when you part your lips and her hands grabbing your waist. your hands grasp her jacket, eyes fluttering closed as you hear her moan into your mouth at the way you easily give yourself up for her.

the other car has left by now, leaving you two in the middle of the parking lot with just the light post illuminating to give just the right amount of light to see each other. when dani pulls out of the kiss, there's a darkness in her eyes that you instantly recognize, and you already have a feeling what she's going to do.

"you're so pretty," she says quietly, her lips trailing from your jaw to your neck, leaving light kisses along your skin. she bites down out of nowhere, licking over the mark to soothe the reddened skin causing a little moan to fall past your lips.

"d-dani," you whimper, gripping her jacket tighter.

"shh," she mutters into your neck. "just relax, baby..." her hand moves from your waist to push your seat backwards and down so you were laying down. a little gasp comes from you at the sudden movement, but there's a tired smile on your lips as you watch her climb over between your legs. her fingers hook around the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them down along with your panties. she stares up at you as she spreads your legs and slowly licks up your slit, moaning when she tastes your slick on her tongue.

"fuck," you gasp at the feeling of her tongue running along your folds, your hand immediately grabbing her hair as you lean your head back against the seat. "dani," you whine softly.

slowly, dani pushes her tongue inside of you, her eyes not looking away from you as she watches your eyes close and lean your head back against the headrest of the seat. she sets a slow rhythm of thrusting her tongue inside and out of you, hearing the tiredness in your whining and not wanting to overdo anything in your tired state. she just couldn't help it, you looked so good for one in the morning and waking up a mere ten minutes before leaving with her. plus, she really did appreciate you coming with her each time, and she wanted to show that to you.

your moans echo in the car as you tug on her hair, feeling her eyes on you while you whine at the feeling of her warm tongue intruding your walls. the only thing on your mind in your half-awake, dazed-like state is how good your girlfriend making you feel as she sits on her knees in between your legs, moaning her name every other thrust she makes. "mngh, dani," your noises are still quiet, but are a little louder the more you feel the pleasure build in you. you can barely form any thoughts, let alone say any words, the only thing falling from your lips being dani's name alongside the moans and whines. you push her head closer to you, your hips rolling against her face as your noises get more desperate and whiny.

daniela moans against you as you push her head further into you, her nose bumping against your clit eliciting a whine from you. her hands trail up your body, resting on your waist under your sweatshirt and drawing little circles into your skin to keep you grounded with something. she knows your close by how your legs are shaking around her head and your noises become more needy at the overwhelming amount of pleasure you were feeling. she speeds up her thrusting of her tongue ever so slightly, a still relatively slow pace though compared to other times with her. she mumbles something, and you can't hear it over your moaning, but you figure it's her giving you permission to cum by the way you feel her movements speed up.

"oh-oh m-my god, dani," you gasp, your breathing getting heavier as you feel yourself getting closer to the edge. your legs squeeze around dani's head, and she doesn't even care or notice as she stares up at you, watching you come undone. "f-fuck, 'm gonna-" your unable to finish your words, a loud whine leaving your lips as your body shakes, cumming all over her face.

dani's eyes bore into you at the sight of you climaxing, letting your legs tighten around her head before they relax, trembling a bit. she licks up every last drop of your cum that leaks from your pussy, only pulling away when you tug on her hair. pulling her face away, she looks at you, still rubbing small circles onto your skin. "you did so good for me, baby," she says quietly, kissing your thigh softly. she sees your eyes closed, your breathing slowing down back to a calm rhythm, and she knows you're on the verge of falling asleep. she pulls your pants back up and leaves the seat leaned back, crawling up to your face and pushing a strand of hair from your face. "you can sleep, i'll drive us back home," she whispers, pecking your lips quickly.

all you do is nod, her quiet voice calming you down as you feel yourself drifting off into sleep. you can hear shuffling as dani gets back into the drivers seat and turns the car on, hearing her murmur a quiet "shut up" as she turns the radio off when it starts playing a random song. she glances over at you for a second, smiling softly and resting her hand on your leg, starting to drive back home.

[lebensmudewing]

This is worse

Trigger warning: birthing fetish

My birth video ended up on a fetish subreddit because of my husband

Throwaway. Although my husband will probably see this here anyway. Maybe this can be the conversation starter?? I don't know! I just need to get this out somewhere and have people validate that my feelings aren't crazy!

I'm sorry if this is all over the place. I am a mess.

My (F33) husband (M36) is the most wonderful and caring person I've ever met in my life. I thought. Almost overbearingly sweet. He's always concerned with how I'm doing, how I'm feeling, how is my mental health. He's an excellent father to our two children as well.

I had a difficult birth with my first child. My hospital experience was bad. I felt traumatized afterwards. When I got pregnant with my second, I knew that, barring any issues, I wanted a homebirth. My husband was all for it. He's a nurse, so I felt doubly safe with him plus my midwife to support me.

The midwife filmed and we also had a professional photographer taking pictures. Everything went great. It was so emotional and beautiful. I'm trying not to give too many details away since it's apparently available to ANYONE for their viewing pleasure right now.

I have been pretty possessive of that birth tape. I never uploaded it anywhere. After I downloaded it onto my computer from our camera's sim card, I uploaded it to a USB, deleted it off my computer, and I keep it in a little "hope chest" to watch when I'm feeling sentimental. It is so beautiful and important to me, and I wasn't interested in sharing it. I have several friends who put their whole birth on YouTube, but I wasn't interested in doing that. My birth didn't need to be shared with the world. It didn't need to be a teaching moment. It didn't need to exist to make others feel better. After my traumatic first birth, it was mine and i cherished it.

My husband didn't feel the same way and sometimes had light arguments with me about it. He was never pushy, but several times, when I would watch it, he would comment "this is such an excellent birth video! You are so happy and calm! I really think you should post this. Homebirths get such a bad rep and this could put so many women at ease." I would tell him absolutely not. This is private. Stop pestering me about it. Its my body. He eventually dropped it and hasn't brought it up since.

My husband and I have never been controlling. We don't have the passwords to each other's phones. I've never felt the need to check each other's phones or computers. I trust him implicitly. Well. I did anyway. I know he has a reddit. We both reddit pretty often. But i don't know his profile or what he does on here. Idk I've just never thought about it.

A few days ago, I was in one of my parenting subreddits and came across a disturbing thread about birth videos getting posted nonconsenually in a birth fetish subreddit. I thought to myself, that is exactly the reason I didn't want to post my birth video. The commenter posted the link to the fetish sub and I'll admit curiosity got the better of me and I went to look. I wanted to know if any of my friends videos wound up there so that I could tell them.

Well their videos DID wind up there. Every single one. The sub has several vast g drives linked to birth videos. But then I saw it. MY FUCKING BIRTH VIDEO. It looked like it had been a YouTube video at one point?? Idk I don't understand how this works. I cant find it on youtube anywhere, so idk. I'm so fucking ashamed and horrified. There is a closeup of...well EVERYTHING down there in a fucking fetish site. My baby taking his first breaths. Me breastfeeding. It doesn't even cut off after the birth. It shows my baby getting weighed, and just...held. If this is a birth fetish sub, why does it feature so much of just...my CHILD. This seems like waaayyyy more than just a birth fetish thing. Idek how to report the video.I reported the post and reddit says it doesn't violate anything.

I am bawling as I type this. Like wtf. Only ONE person knows where that tape is: my fucking husband. I don't even know how to broach this subject with him.

"Hey did you fucking violate my privacy and post OUR BABY'S BIRTH ONLINE, or did you submit it straight to a fetish site, because that's where it is right now."

I don't know what to do. I can't believe I even have to have this discussion. Wtf even if he didn't submit that video straight to the fetish site, he uploaded it somewhere else where they found it, and now his actions have led to THIS situation. He exposed ME to perverts online. He exposed our newborn infant to perverts online!!!

Our marriage will NOT survive this and I am a wreck. I should have known he had SICK intentions when he was being so weird about wanting me to post this. WHY? WHY WOULD HE DO THIS?? I'm not even that angry about those sickos seeing me, but every time I think of my sweet little baby's face in there...I feel like I'm going to throw up. Surely this is illegal?? Surely newborn babies can't be featured in content that people are...sexualizing!!! Can they?? I'm also just....absolutely gutted by the fact that so many other women have had this special moment bastardized by that sub. How many of them are in my shoes? Or my friends shoes. I'm horrified. Do I press charges against my husband?? I can't believe this is how my family is going to end. What will I even tell people. What will I tell my kids!!? Idek what to do!!

TLDR: Husband posted birth video online and it wound up on a fetish site. I don't know what to do.

Update: just a quick update. I left and took the kids to my mom's house. Idk how long we'll be here. I didn't tell my husband anything. I just wanted to get the kids the fuck away from him. Even if he didn't share that video directly with those creeps, I don't want him around them.

TLDR: Husband posted birth video online and it wound up on a fetish site. I don't know what to do.

Update to: birth video in a fetish subreddit

I just...need to vent I guess. This isn't a happy update.

As I mentioned in my last post, I went over to my mom's house. She was bewildered about why I was there. I couldn't fess up to the reason why I was so upset. I am still so embarrassed. I didn't want her to go looking for the damn video either. Thinking of my mom searching around a porn sub to find my BIRTH VIDEO made my skin crawl. I was hysterical. Still am. I couldn't really hide that. I just told her something bad had happened and we needed to stay for awhile. I'm going to have to tell her, but every time I think about doing it, I just start crying more. The situation is even more complicated now, so I'm just scared people will be mad at me for doing what I'm doing, even my own mom.

My husband called and texted over and over for hours. We haven't spent a night apart in years. I gave him no warning. I texted him once and said we were visiting my mom and would be back later, but that I needed a break. I was worried he'd call the police, but he didn't. He continued to text sporadically, pleading with me to talk with him about what was wrong.

I went back over to our house the next day around the time I figured he'd be off work. I took one of my mom's old phones and used it to record our whole interaction. Turns out he'd called out of work he was so distressed. He ran up to me and immediately started asking what was wrong, asking where the kids were etc. He was SO understandably upset. Seeing him like that just made me start crying too. When I started crying, he started crying. He tried to hug me and I stepped away which just made him more upset. It was such a mess. I was finally able to compose myself enough to ask him to watch a video on my phone. He was confused. More so when he realized it was my birth video. A few minutes in, he interrupted to ask why I was showing him. I ended the video, and a hundred other birth videos in the g file folder appeared. He still just looked confused. I exited the folder and pointed to the name of the sub I was in. He took my phone for a better look and I just started  bawling and bawling. After a few minutes, he started raging about how we needed to mass report the post and call the FBI and blah blah blah. He kept repeating "we'll fix this. Holy fuck. This is so sick." I tried to get his attention by asking "how did they get that video?" But he just kept pacing around ranting. I just started repeating over and over "how did they get it!?" Until I was screaming at the top of my lungs. He eventually stopped and just stared at me. Neither of us said anything for a long time.

He started crying and told me that he had started a "Daddy Blog" a year after our first was born. He posted about being a dad and eventually about his experience with my second pregnancy. He had posted the video on youtube to link to his blog. He felt like there wasnt enough resources out there for dads regarding pregnancy. He didn't know I didn't want it posted until a week or two after baby was here and I was so vehement about not posting it and getting it tucked securely away on a usb. It was up for about TEN fucking months before he finally took it down. He was waiting to see if I changed my mind, and was reluctant to remove it because he'd received so many messages from thankful dads about how educational and helpful his blog/vlogging was. I had 0 knowledge about this blog. I didnt even know people blogged anymore?? We had both expressed many times how we didn't want to create a massive digital footprint for our children because of SITUATIONS JUST LIKE FUCKING THIS, so I this is such a fucking weird surprise. There's hundreds of pictures of our family on this thing.

Anyway, we got into a huge argument about how this was a breech of trust and privacy. He maintained that he thought my reaction about not wanting the video posted was over the top, and how I never told him I didn't want to share it, how he didn't even think of it as a big deal because he deals with that kind of thing every day so it was just not a big deal to him and blah blah blah. His excuses were stupid and I don't care. My birth wound up on a fetish subreddit because of him and we are getting a divorce.

When I told him it was over, we had another big screaming match. He went through several different emotions. Crying, wailing, begging, and finally anger. I hadn't said ANYTHING about custody arrangements, or my plans besides divorce, but he started threatening full custody and how he was going to put up a huge fight, how it would just be "he said/she said," how he has the better job, etc. Whatever. I didn't tell him I recorded anything (legal in our state). I eventually just walked out.

So yeah. That's where I'm at today. I need to consult with a lawyer about what comes next. I am moving as quickly as I possibly can. Sitting down to write this update was probably a stupid move, but I received SO many heartfelt messages from people concerned for me that it felt necessary. I honestly just...needed to vent and have people tell me I'm not crazy or awful for doing what I'm doing. I told a few friends, and they all just seem...weird. They're concerned about the videos I found in the fetish group, but nobody has reassured me that I'm making the right moves in regards to the situation.

I am in an incredibly bad place right now. I'm worried I'm making the wrong decision. Do i let him see the kids?? I don't know what to tell my family. I don't know if i need to contact the police. I don't know if i want to. The most stupid part of me wishes I could call my best friend and talk to him about it, but uh...yeah I'm divorcing him. What a stupid feeling to miss him so badly and knowing that I will never be with him again. I just keep thinking that I'm doing something stupid, and i feel like so many people will see it that way.

On top of everything, my birth video is just...in a fucking fetish sub. Every time I think about that, I get choked up. I've reported it a million times in just the few days since I posted. I've made alts to try and report. I've had friends report. My other friends,with their birth videos ALSO posted non-consenually in there, have tried reporting. It doesn't matter. I sent the link to the FBI. It doesn't even really matter anyway. They're g drives. If the post got removed, if the whole sub was removed, my video is still in the possession of some sicko using it for fap material. My baby's sweet little face in there...I am sick. I am defeated.

They have a post up in the sub about how their previous group was removed because of pedophile content. No shit. No fucking shit. Your fetish inherently involves children. They ask that "karens" please leave them alone now. They acknowledge that pedophiles lurk in their sub, yet continue to steal content with children in it for sexual purposes. I do not understand how something like this is legal. I don't know how many other dark places on the internet my video has ended up.

The most special moment of my life is now just this fucking smear of shit all because I decided to try and capture it for memory's  sake. Something that was supposed to bring me unending joy, now leaves me weeping. I keep looking at my sweet toddler and just...breaking down. He didn't deserve this. I wish I could go back and never have recorded that video. I took my USB and fucking smashed it into a million pieces just to feel like I did something. I am tired.

There's not going to be another update for awhile. I am in a very dark place.

Link

he needs to die

[mochiwonz]

✉ - While You Were Sleeping, I Fell In Love ♡

𓍯𓂃 content : fem!reader x boyfriend!jay , fluff & comfort !!! , a lot of skinship (hugging, touching face, kisses etc) , jay is smitten and so is reader :3 , reader calls jay "jjongie" and jay calls reader "y/nnie" and other pet names , reader is shorter than jay

𓍯𓂃 word count : 1.8k

𓍯𓂃 note : this was inspired by my favorite song ever "while you were sleeping" by laufey !! this is a very comforting fic and i hope you enjoy it <33

Finally, it was Friday evening, the night you've been waiting for since the start of the week. Why were Friday evenings so important to you? Well because those were the nights you spent with your lovely boyfriend, jay. Or as you'd call him, jjongie.

You guys made it a tradition to have sleepovers every Friday night. It was for fun at first, but now its turned into an actual tradition. But frankly, you both don't mind. You'd accept any extra time you could to be in each other's presence.

Arriving at his place, you knock on the door and wait for him to open it. God, you've missed him so much. You both have been so busy with your own things, college for you and work for him.

And there he was - your beautiful boyfriend, smiling so fondly at you when he notices that you came in your cute silk pajamas.

"hey my pretty girlll, come inside" he tells you while taking your bag off of your shoulder and kissing the top of your head. He truly missed you so much, he couldn't wait to spend the rest of tonight with you - his beautiful girlfriend.

Entering his apartment, you're instantly met with the scent of clean laundry, vanilla, and some sort-of food. The lights are dim, a warm yellow, and it reminded you just how much you missed his apartment, too.

"missed you so much jjongie" you sigh when he brings you into his embrance, his head resting on top of yours and arms wrapped around your waist.

"i know baby, missed u too my love. let's eat, yeah? then we can cuddle my love" he tells you in a soft voice.

Agreeing, you follow him to the island in his kitchen where the food is laid out. And oh my god, how you love this man. You smile at him when you notice that he got you your favorite food, your favorite drink, and lit a candle, too. You could never ask for a better boyfriend, jay was really the best.

"oh my fucking god jay I could kiss you right now." you say while still smling at him. Instead of using words to respond, he picks you up as if you're as light as a feather and gives you a peck on the lips.

"there's your kiss my y/nnie, now let's eat before the food gets cold, yeah?" he says as he walks over to slide out a chair for you to sit on.

How did you even find such a gentleman?? Anyways, you both get lost in conversation, talking about your weeks and how much you've missed each other. Eating yummy food and talking with your favorite person in the whole entire world, you felt so so happy right now.

It was now time for what you've been waiting for the whole week, cuddles. Honestly, you've been cuddled by your bestfriend but nothing compares to his cuddles. He's like your own teddy bear. You can't even explain how much comfort his cuddles provide you. Jay also feels the same way, he always feels immediately better once you're near him or hugging him. Doing anything with you is like instant comfort and happiness to him.

One could say you're both crazy in love with eachother, and that would be 110% true! After making yourself a warm cup of tea, you wait for jay on the couch. Looking back up, your eyes are blessed with a jay in cute white pajamas. How could a grown man be so fucking cute?? You'll never know.

Walking over to you, he explains "wanted to get comfy, couldn't be cuddling you in jeans and a polo"

"you're so cute my jjongie" you tell him as he lays down on the couch and signals for you to lay on top of him.

He moves his arms onto your back so they're hugging you and instantly, your body feels so much more relaxed. You can hear his heartbeat and he can hear yours, and you love it. You love intimate moments with jay, they hold such a special place in your heart.

Jay starts moving his hand up and down your back, and you look up at him. You quickly give him a peck on his nose, one of your favorite features of his. He looks down at you and smiles fondly, you swear you saw hearts in his eyes. Gently, he brings your forehead closer to his lips and kisses it. You close your eyes at the contact, feeling as if you're in heaven.

After about 20 minutes, you feel jay's hand stop moving. You look up at face and - he's asleep.

Wow, he looks so peaceful and absolutely unreal. Of course, you take this time to admire his beauty. His beautiful eyelashes, glowing skin, sharp nose, cute lips, and the birthmark on his neck are all so beautiful. You bring your hand up to his face and softly caress the warm skin. You bring your other hand to his hair to brush through it. Even his hair is pretty, it's so luscious and shiny. Plus, it smells so good. You smile sweetly at him and give him a peck on his lips. You can't help but admire him everytime that you get the chance, he's your beautiful jjongie.

Finally, it was Friday evening, the night you've been waiting for since the start of the week. Why were Friday evenings so important to you? Well because those were the nights you spent with your lovely boyfriend, jay. Or as you'd call him, jjongie.

You guys made it a tradition to have "sleepovers" every Friday night. It was for fun at first, but now its turned into an actual tradition. But frankly, you both don't mind. You'd accept any extra time you could to be in each other's presence.

Arriving at his place, you knock on the door and wait for him to open it. God, you've missed him so much. His voice, his beautiful face, his presence - everything. You both have been so busy with your own things, college for you and work for him.

Snapping you out of your thoughts, there he was - your beautiful boyfriend, smiling so fondly at you when he notices that you came in your cute silk pajamas.

"hey my pretty girl in her pretty pajamas, come inside" he says while taking your bag off of your shoulder and kissing the top of your head. He truly missed you so much, he couldn't wait to spend the rest of tonight with you - his beautiful girlfriend.

"missed you so much jjongie" you sigh when he brings you into his embrance. Nobody could ever compare to him. Nobody, ever.

"i know baby, missed u too my love. let's eat, yeah? then we can cuddle." he tells you in a soft voice.

Agreeing, you follow him to the island in his kitchen where the food is laid out. And oh my god, how you love this man. You smile at him when you notice that he got you your favorite food, your favorite drink, and lit a candle, too. You could never ask for a better boyfriend, jay was really the best.

"oh my fucking god jay I could kiss you right now." you say while still smling at him. Instead of using words to respond, he picks you up and gives you a peck on the lips.

"there's your kiss my y/nnie, now let's eat before the food gets cold, yeah?" he says as he walks over to slide out a chair for you to sit on.

How did you even find such a gentleman?? Anyways, you both get lost in conversation, talking about your weeks and how much you've missed each other. Eating yummy food and talking with your favorite person in the whole entire world, you felt so so happy right now.

It was now time for what you've been waiting for the whole week, cuddles. Honestly, you've been cuddled by your bestfriend but nothing compares to his cuddles. He's like your own teddy bear. You can't even explain how much comfort his cuddles provide you. Jay also feels the same way, he always feels immediately better once you're near him or hugging him. Doing anything with you is like instant comfort and happiness to him.

One could say you're both crazy in love with eachother, and that would be 110% true! After making yourself a warm cup of tea, you wait for jay on the couch. Looking back up, your eyes are blessed with a jay in cute white pajamas. How could a grown man be so fucking cute?? You'll never know.

Walking over to you, he explains "wanted to get comfy, couldn't be cuddling you in jeans and a polo"

"you're so cute my jjongie" you tell him as he lays down on the couch and signals for you to lay on top of him.

He moves his arms onto your back so they're hugging you and instantly, your body feels so much more relaxed. You can hear his heartbeat and he can hear yours, and you love it. You love intimate moments with jay, they hold such a special place in your heart.

Jay starts moving his hand up and down your back, and you look up at him. You quickly give him a peck on his nose, one of your favorite features of his. He looks down at you and smiles fondly, you swear you saw hearts in his eyes. Gently, he brings your forehead closer to his lips and kisses it. You close your eyes at the contact, feeling as if you're in heaven.

After about 20 minutes, you feel jay's hand stop moving. You look up at face and - he's asleep.

And wow, he looks so peaceful and absolutely unreal. Reminiscent of a painting. Of course, you take this time to admire his beauty. His beautiful eyelashes, glowing skin, sharp nose, cute lips, and the birthmark on his neck are all so beautiful. You bring your hand up to his face and softly caress the warm skin. You bring your other hand to his hair to brush through it. Even his hair is pretty, it's so luscious and shiny. Plus, it smells so good. You smile sweetly at him and give him a peck on his lips. You can't help but admire him everytime that you get the chance, he's your beautiful jjongie.

"my jjongie, you're so beautiful. i love you so much my beautiful boy. always." you tell him, not caring if he hears or not. You just need to say it.

You realize that you're falling in love with this man all over again, while he's asleep. And honestly, you could probably fall in love with him a million more times.

jay is totally bias wrecking me rn LOL but he has suuchhh a comforting aura. i love this man so much <333 pls reblog if you enjoyed ,, you can check out my other work here !!

[tan1shere]

Friends

Billie Eilish x female reader !

A/n: as a bit of an apology for that other fic... LMAOO THIS DOES HAVE A HAPPY ENDING ! I've been obsessed with this song. Like if my future gf doesn't confess her love to me with it I'm gunna sue

Summary: none of you had any idea just how inlove you guys were.

Warnings: a bit angsty at the startish ? But happy ending 😁 this ended up being so so cute eeee - also listening to the song helps near the end when they're in the rain. Makes it more magical hehe

Masterlist

It was another day. Another cold, rainy day. It had been like that for a few weeks now. But you weren't complaining, you loved this kind of weather. Drinking hot drinks, wearing cute clothes, the sound of it on the roof. Even going to cute little Cafes with friends, which is what you were on the way to do now. Your best friend Claudia, Finneas and last but not least Billie. Billie, Billie. Billie. She was beautiful, always teasing you about something but you loved it. Yes you had a crush on her. But you had to stop that.

You had been friends with Finneas first for years, and your crush developed quite quickly when you met Billie for the first time. Only a matter of days and you were drooling at the sight. She'd never see you like that though. Then you introduced Claudia to them, your long time best friend. She knew about this crush and she was the only one who did. It was only natural when she insisted you say something the day Billie came out. You had known for awhile before she publicly announced it. You were a lesbian and open about that, so she came to you when she thought she might be into girls.

It only made things worse. Making you want her even more when she confirmed she wanted to be with a woman. You so desperately wanted that woman to be you. But you doubted she saw you in that way. Causing you to push those feelings aside, and bury it deep within. The looks you always gave her go unnoticed by Claud, she tried time and time again to encourage you to just say something and that..

"You never know what could happen" She says as you and her wait on the other two to order. "Claudia there's no point, it'd just ruin things. "You don't know that!" She insists, but shuts up seconds later as they come back over. Her words always sat with you, replaying over and over in your mind. But you couldn't do it, you had to let it go. Just some silly crush you developed as a kid. It'll go away.

... It's been nearly 7 years. 7 long years with a burning crush for her. A massive secret. Who were you kidding you weren't getting over it. They come back with the drinks in hand. "Matcha for you." Finn says, handing it to Claudia. "Your favorite for you." You smile as Billie says that. She always knew. She knew exactly what you liked and what you didn't, and vise versa. Which probably made you love her even more. If anything you were certain you were inlove with her. Which is why you needed to make this stop somehow.

Few months had passed since the coffee shop. You were sitting at home, scrolling through your phone when you see tiktoks of Quen, Odessa, and Billie in one. You knew she was close with them but you had no idea just how close. But that wasn't even the icing on the cake. Your phone dings with a text from her. "Hey you!" It read. You try to ignore the pit in your stomach after seeing that stupid fucking tiktok. You couldn't let it bother you this much. "Hii Bills." - "Craziest thing right, I mean not so crazy because I've kissed her before. But i love how casual it is, Quen was just saying a joke and kissed me mid way."

Your heart stings for a bit as you read those words. That poison. "Oh really?" - "Shes honestly so funny though, just wanted to text! See how you were doing and all." You bite your lip. How's awful? "I'm fine!" You were glad this was over text cuz boy were you a bad liar. So you're glad she hasn't caught on at all to your crush. Lying your way out of that one would be a mission. Or maybe it wouldn't be. "Good! I'll talk to you later, byeee." You sigh. "Bye.." You say outloud.

Some more time passes by, and very slowly. You had been focusing more on yourself. You even got a promotion in your job. But you weren't sure if you would take it, seeing as you had to move to New York for it. It had been eating at you recently on what to do. You can't bear the thought of not seeing your friends everyday. Even if they could visit but they had busy lives too. It wouldn't be the same. And you weren't sure if you could leave her. Or maybe that was the exact thing you needed.

Maybe you needed to get away so this silly little crush could go bye bye. But once you think it over some more you come to a decision. You couldn't possibly say no to this. This was huge for you after all.

Flashback.

Another rainy day, you two were chilling in Finns basement as Billie works on a few things. She stops for a moment. "Hey, I've been working on this song for a bit. It's nothing major but can you have a listen?" You nod, leaning forward excitedly. As it plays, you fall immediately inlove. Even if it was just a snippet. "Billie! That's beautiful." You beam at her, loving it so much. She blushes slightly at the words. "It's really special. I was thinking of putting the rain in the background if I can manage to. It's so noisy tonight." You nod as she says that. "I love the rain, it brings me such a comfort. The cold weather, snuggling up into blankets. The sound!" She smiles as you talk. She always listened, especially when you rambled. "I know." She says, more so to herself seeing as you hadn't heard her.

"Hey, early like always." Claudia says to you as you enter her house. You greet Finneas and the dogs aswel. "Well you know me." They were currently throwing a small get together, something common for them to do. But you loved it. You were going to break the news tonight. It was decided. Billie had only just arrived shortly after you, coming in and saying hi to everyone. You look at her, wondering if you really should go through with this. She was your best friend. It made you wonder how she's going to take the news. Out of all of them you two were the closest. Hanging out regularly, talking on the phone. So this without a doubt would be hard.

You were all sitting around at the table, talking, eating. When a friend asks Billie if she's done anything new recently music wise. "Well, funny you should ask. I've been writing this song, it's incredibly special to me. It's about this girl, and I think I really like her." You swallow as you hear that. Was it who you think it was about? Was it that same song she got you to listen to? "Ooou Billie liking someone?" Rat pipes up. "I may do." "If you're writing a song for her you must be pretty inlove." She blushes slightly. It had to be about Quen, it just had to. You look down at your food contemplating. That whole situation just made everything easier. So you begin to speak.

"I uhm, I have a small announcement." Everyone then looks at you. Your eyes land on Billies for a split second. "I- got a promotion a few weeks ago." They all start congratulating you, even Billie. But that dies down with your next words. "It uh.. Id have to move to New York though." Things fell silent, saddened faces all around. "That sucks. But we are so proud of you, are you going to take it?" You think for a moment, you look over to Billie but her eyes were on the food on her plate. "Uhm. Yeah, I am." Cheers were then to be heard. "To Y/n!" Rat then says, raising his glass. "To Y/n!" Everyone follows. Everyone but Billie...

Flashback.

Summer time. It was almost your second favorite to winter, but nothing could ever beat your love for it. You and Billie had gone out to a meadow, it was one of her favorite things. Going out to rejoice in nature. And when you had suggested it she couldn't of been more happy. It was better than sitting around in the boiling heat in the house, even with the fan on it was scorching. There was a warm breeze as you two walked through it. Enjoying the sun and grass. Billie was behind you going to grab your wrist. "This was an amazing idea. You know me so well." You smile wide as she says that. "I also know how much energy you have. I'll race you to the end." She chuckles. "Oh please you know I'd beat you-" "Go!" You abruptly say, running off as soon as your sentence finished. "Hey!" She yells running after you.

The whole paddock was huge so it took you a little bit. Along the way you both give up, but as you were about to stop your body's being tackled to the ground. "Gotcha!" She says pinning your arms down. You laugh. "No fair!" Her brow raises. "You know what's not fair? You getting a head start you little cheat." You laugh even more. "I have no clue what you're on about." It was her turn to laugh. "And a liar!" Her hands move to tickle your sides. "Billie!" "A bad one at that." Now your laughs were uncontrollable. She kept going until something sparks. You hadn't realized how close she was. Both of your eyes locking. Everything stills. Her movements. Your breathing. Maybe even time did too. You look at her lips for a second and that's when you look away. Her hand gently grabs your jaw. "You still lost." Your eyes roll going to push her off. "Har har."

She falls beside you as you both lay on your back. Taking in the sky silently. "Everything is so beautiful." You breathe. "Yeah." Billie replies. She wasn't looking at the sky.

The time was nearing. You were packing up your things a few days earlier. Honestly, you were so excited. This could be a brand new start, a refresher. After a longish day you were driving over to Finneas and Claudia's, wanting to spend as much time with them as possible. Wondering why Billie wasn't mentioned? Because she may not even be there. She hasn't been there. Ever since that night, nor had she texted you since then. Which is something she did daily. It broke your heart. But maybe that just made it even easier to leave. Maybe..

"Got most packed?" Claudia asks. You nod, seemingly distracted. "Hey, everything alright?" You look at her. "Oh yeah, just thinking about missing you guys- when. I leave." She had known you for longer than they have, even if you were a bad liar she saw right through you. "Spill." You sigh. "We haven't spoken in weeks.." Her brows furrow. "You and Billie?" You just nod, kinda wanting to avoid this whole thing right now. "Ever since I announced it she's shut me out." Claudia's features softened. "Maybe she just needed time she's your best friend it'll surely hurt-" "But as a best friend she should be here for me. Even if that is so."

Things grew silent, not the horrible kind. "I'm sorry." You shrug. "Guess even in friendship she doesn't want it." - "That's not true." You shrug again. "Even before I mentioned this whole thing she had grown distant. Its like I didn't even matter anymore. She was too busy focusing on this girl." Maybe you hadn't realized how much it upset you. You didn't want it to. But it finally got to you. Claudia notices and brings you in for a hug. She soothes you, trying to not make things seem worse. After a bit you both pull back. "You're going to call me everyday ok? And we will talk about anything and everything." She wipes your slight tears.

Feeling her own fall. You nod, planning on doing so. "Im going to miss you guys." She brings you in for a final hug. "We are going to miss you more."

Flashback.

Parties were something you aren't sure you're use to. But it was quite a frequent thing. Seeing as who you were friends with were in that scene. "I hope this isn't boring like some of them." You sigh, watching Billie come out of your bathroom. She was wearing a loose black button up shirt and some very laid back pants. Another thing you loved about her, she didn't try to be fashionable. She was just always comfortable. "Oh come onnn, it could be so fun!" Even she didn't believe that. She agreed with you, parties like these were just an excuse to drink or get high and you hated it. Everyone could enjoy themselves when they are actually themselves instead of being intoxicated. "I'll make it fun." She then says, striding over to you. Billie had always been flirty in anything she did. Whether it was her tone or actions it'd always be noticeable. Which sure as hell didn't help with the fucking crush.

And delicate touch to your body had you shivering. It felt like she did it on purpose. Maybe she was? "And how do you suppose you'd do that?" She shrugs, getting closer. "Just by being me." Your brows raises, trying so hard to not let show how much of an effect she has on you currently. "If you say so." But that whole night was something else. Sure she could be touchy, and never in a bad way. It was her love language after all. But something about the way you danced together, the way each moment felt. Sure as hell didn't feel like a just friends thing. But ofcourse you were delusional. Because the next day, things were back to the same friendliness. It hurt, all you wanted was to be hers but she didn't feel the same. And you had to accept that.

It was the last day before your move. "This is for Y/n." Finneas says on their couch. It was just him, you, Claudia. And ofcourse Billie. You doubted she even wanted to come at the way she's been acting lately. It upset and angered you. What was wrong with her? "Our best friend. And cheers to the new chapter she's starting!" He finishes. "Here here!" Claudia chimes in. Your heart just sinks as you turn to look at Billie. She was on her phone. Probably texting the mystery girl. You look at your drink, sighing internally. Finneas and Claud just look at one another. "Congrats Y/n." Finneas then concludes.

A slight sadness in his voice. You nod slowly as you 3 drink to it. The night goes on, you wanted some more blue cheese so you get up and go to the kitchen, Billie happening to be there. Things were awkward. You really didn't want them to end this way. "Can't believe it's tomorrow." You say, breaking the air. "Yeah, came by fast." There was more awkward silence. God you felt like crying why was she being like this. But that anger comes back as shes on her phone, again. The last night you have together and she's texting some bitch. "Really?" You manage to get out, after what felt like ages of bottling up whatever it was inside you.

Her eyes move to look at you. "Huh?" You grit your teeth. She sees your eyes gloss over, opening her mouth to speak. "You haven't spoken to me in weeks." You snap. She doesn't say anything, unsure of exactly what she could say. There's many things, but choosing was tricky. "Just forget it, I'm going to go home and rest. Got a big day tomorrow." You say to everyone as you grab your bag, heading out. Remembering you had taken an Uber, grabbing your phone but struggle as the pouring rain shoots down. "Wait!" You then hear behind you.

"No Billie." You really didn't want to speak to her after all she hadn't, all month. All night for fuck sakes. "Please let me talk." You ignore her trying hard to call this damn Uber, but the rain wasn't helping in the slightest. She grabs your phone making you look at her. "Hey!" You say, feeling tears flow. It was hard to tell mixed with the rain. But she notices. She notices everything. "I'm s-" You push her away. "N-no." You shiver. "You hurt me." She stands there dumbfounded. That's not at all what she wanted. Far from it. She's reized how much she's hurt you.

"Please, I really am sorry I shouldn't have iced you out. I was just shocked and a little hurt you hadn't mentioned this to me." You fold your arms not looking at her. "I hadn't told anyone." She scratches her head. "Yeah but, out of anyone I thought youd atleast tell me." You turn to her. "Why? Why do you think that? You haven't been the best friend to me recently. Hell i don't even know what to think anymore." She shakes her head. "Don't say that, please I'm sorry." You stay quiet for a moment. "Just give me my phone."

She was hesitant but with a sigh she does. You soon get fed up, going to walk. "It's freezing, you can't just walk home." - "Why do you care all of a sudden Billie. It's not like you've been so caring lately?!" Another bit of silence. You just shake your head. "Well?" She thinks for a moment. "This morning. I woke up from a dream. Where you and I had to say goodbye." You had no clue where this was going but you were growing inpatient. Wanting a proper answer. "And I don't know what it all means... But since then I realized. Wherever you go that's where I'll follow."

You roll your eyes a bit, not even sure you're getting where this is going, patience growing thinner. "Im tired Billie, goodnight and goodbye." You say walking off again. She started to panic. Frantically thinking. "Y/n!" When you wouldn't stop she sighs. "I love you!" Your feet come to halt at the words. "Or rather, inlove with you." Your eyes widen. Was this a dream too? Were you dreaming? You slowly turn around to look at her. "W-what?" You look at eachother, feeling as if time had stopped again. "If the world was ending I'd wanna be next to you."

You feel tears again. This is all you've been longing from her. "Are you serious?" You question. "Serious as anything." You smile, more tears coming down your cheeks. You run over to her, she instinctively picks you up. And finally something else you had been longing for, happened just like that. You felt eachothers lips. Molding together perfectly. It lasted for what felt like eternity. Neither of you wanted to pull away, you knew you needed to though. The rain pours more over you. Making both of your hair sticks to your faces. She moves yours out the way.

"I'm hoping you feel the same?" You laugh. "Yes you idiot. For over 7 years." She smiles wide, so happy that this could finally happen. "Wait- what about the girl- the mystery one?" She chuckles. "We really were blind huh?" Your brows furrow in confusion. "The song was about you. But I never said anything because I was worried I'd ruin things." Your head shakes. "Oh thank God, I honestly thought it was Quen." You breathe out relieved. "Oh goodness no, she's just a friend. Even if I had kissed her it was more of an experience." You nod, understanding everything more now.

"So the song was about me?" You beam. She reflects the same actions. "I thought the lyrics would've been obvious to be honest. Especially with the rain part." - "Guess it just flew past my head." You lock eyes once again. "Well since I know how much rain means to you. What if I asked you a very special question while we're out here in it." Your head tilts. Her hands grabbing your own. "Will you be my girlfriend?" You smile. "I thought you'd never ask." You seal the deal with a kiss. You fell first. But she fell harder.

"No seriously I thought you'd never ask." You both laugh, heading over to her car so you can get home.

[concreteangel92]

Do you write angst? Could you write something? You decide 😊

The One Who Never Was

Noah Sebastian x female reader

Warnings: Noah being a complete and utter fuck boy, talks of sex but nothing detailed, breakups, playing with someone’s feelings, gaslighting, love bombing, mental and emotional abuse, depression, co-dependency, unhealthy relationships, fwb, situationship, no happy ending in this story, drinking, self destructive behaviour, let me know if I’ve missed something!

Noah is not a nice person in this fic, if that is going to bother you then please don’t read. I did also picture long haired Noah when I was writing this.

I hope you all enjoy (if that’s the right word for a story like this ahaha) and I’m hoping to get back into my writing this week as I’m not back at work until Saturday (if I’m well enough) and this is the first time in about 6 weeks that I’ve been able to rest and do nothing so I’ll try and be productive with it

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @Ima1986 (never lets me tag you properly for some reason?)

“Hey fancy meeting up today? Feels like it’s been ages”

You nervously sat there waiting for Noah’s response, in your mind already knowing the answer.

You and Noah had been in this ‘situationship’ for a year now, you’d started off as just friends and then one night, it had all changed.

You’d not long been out of a bad relationship when Noah first text you and asked if you wanted to hang out, you knew what he wanted and at first you thought it was a good idea, help you move on from the last dickhead that you’d been with.

“Best way to get over a man is to get under one”

So you went.

After that night, Noah then wanted to date you, he’d asked to take you out for a meal but you’d politely declined as you wanted to stay single longer so you could heal but you spoke about being friends with benefits with him instead, something he was completely up for. Looking back, you had no idea of everything that was about to happen.

•••••

You were sitting on Noah’s sofa, a film was on in the background and Noah was cooking you both dinner.

“What do you think of this?”

Noah had walked back into the living room with his hand under a spoon, you wrapped your lips around it to taste his home made sauce for the chicken he was cooking.

“Oh my god, that’s amazing! Since when did you cook?”

He gave you a big smile and a cheeky wink as he replied “I’ve always loved cooking, it’s even better when I have someone to cook for”

You’d both be curled up on the sofa, eating his amazing food before you’d spend the rest of the night together in his bed.

Noah had this power of making you blush with every word he said, he always made you feel like you were the only woman in the world.

“You’re like no woman I’ve ever been with”

He’d text you first always, told you how he felt about you and that you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen.

“Oh shut up!”

“I’m serious, I don’t know how I’ve got so lucky to be with someone as gorgeous as you”

The fact he’d accepted the friends with benefits over an actual date made you feel he would wait for you, that he completely understood that you needed time.

And let’s talk about the sex. The sex was like nothing you’d ever experienced before, he was such a pleasure dom, making sure you were completely satisfied again and again and again.

No man has ever made you feel the things that he did, he was willing to do everything with you.

“Whatever you want to to try, I’m down for it, even the weird shit”

“Weird shit? 😂”

“Any kinks you might not have tried because others think they are weird, I’ll do it all for you”

Noah always held you until you feel asleep, you fighting it, not wanting the night to end.

“Shhh, I’m here”

His fingers would gently caress your cheek while your eyes became heavy, feeling so warm and content in his arms

You’d wish you had longer, knowing that by morning, you’d both be going about your day and then never knowing when you’d see him again due to your schedules.

At some point, during the long into night deep chats, the dinner dates, the small details that Noah always remembered and done, you fell for him.

••••••

“Sorry I can’t today, busy in the studio”

That was it, it was so cold and blunt, there was no warmth in his messages anymore. Not that your heart allowed you to fully see it.

You felt the tears prick at the corner of your eyes as your heart became heavy and you felt the sinking feeling in your gut.

All of your friends have told you to leave him, that he’s making his feelings clear but every time you have tried to pull away, Noah always had the right words to say or a good excuse for his actions.

So you stayed.

And here you were, a shell of the person you used to be, when you first started this with Noah, you had such a spark in your eyes and you felt so happy.

Now, happiness with him was like a drug, he was like a drug. You knew he was bad for you, you knew he was killing you. But you couldn’t stop.

You stared at the screen, almost like your will alone could change the words. You scrolled up and saw it was much the same.

“Hey you about today?” “Sorry I’m working today”

“Fancy some dinner later?” “Maybe. I’ll text you in a bit”

Unless he messaged you…

“Hey baby, you free today? I miss you”

“Yeah I’m free, what do you fancy?”

“You 😏”

“Cheeky haha no seriously, what do you want to do?”

“Come to mine and hang out?”

You knew every time that it would lead to sex, you prayed it would, so you never said no to him.

You convinced yourself that he loved you as much as you loved him. Over the last year, you’d never felt anything like it before.

The only way you could describe it was that whenever you were with him, your soul felt at home. It didn’t matter what you were doing, you could be doing nothing and you were so contented to be around him.

You were always laughing together, you fitted together physically and just overall seemed like each other’s perfect partner.

You saw him for who he was, not this big rock star. You knew the rumours about him but you saw another side to him, a side he wouldn’t let many see. You knew he loved you deep down. Noah just struggled to show it because of his past.

You knew you shouldn’t make excuses for him, what’s the age old saying?

If a man truly wants to be with you then they won’t let a single thing come in between you.

And Noah gave you excuses most of the time, would take hours to reply and then blame it on work. You knew that wasn’t always true but you just accepted the behaviour because you’d fallen in love with him.

You’d fallen in love with the man who made you laugh until your belly hurt, who looked at you like you were the only other person in existence. Noah had recently said that he loved you back for the first time.

••••••

2 weeks ago, the last time you saw him in person.

You’d gone out for a few drinks with your friends and knew Noah was out already so you gave him the invite, not actually expecting him to show up in all honesty.

So when you arrived at the bar so see Noah stood there with your favourite drink next to his, your heart swelled within your chest.

The smile he gave you matched your own, his hug was so warm and for a moment, you felt like the whole world had stopped.

You sat down with your friends, both next to each other and clearly not paying attention to anything else around you other than each other.

In the words that your friend text you later….“A bomb could have gone off in that bar and neither of you two would have known, you couldn’t take your eyes off each other”

You both laughed and chatted all night, it only when you were outside getting some air that you decided to be honest.

“I love you Noah, I know you won’t say it back because you’re scared but I love you”

Noah stood and stared at you for a moment before he smiled and brushed your hair behind your ear.

“I love you too, always have”

The feeling in that moment was indescribable, the man you truly believed you were meant to be with had finally said those words back. He had finally admitted his true feelings.

The rest of the night you felt like you were walking on a cloud, you knew now that everything was going to be ok. All the heartache and loneliness before Noah had lead you up to this moment. To know it was all worth it.

You couldn’t stop smiling all night, even after he’d said that he needed to go, you gave him a big kiss and a hug and said that you couldn’t wait to see him again and finally start dating properly and have a relationship.

For Noah to ghost for you about a week, every message you sent was left unread, all the phone calls ignored.

Every time you felt your heart shatter, how could he do this? Surely not after he’d admitted he loved you? Who can do that?

Your friends were adamant that he was playing you and that you needed to block him.

You sat and cried your heart out, you drank your pain away and tried to find the answers at the bottom of a bottle, you’d do anything to numb the pain that you were feeling.

The feeling of having your whole future ripped away after just being given to you was soul destroying. You have hardly slept, hardly eaten. The weight was falling off your body as the days had turned into weeks.

It was only a few days ago that you’d finally had a response from him.

“Sorry been so busy with work, hope you’re ok”

But when you tried to arrange to see him, you got all the excuses once again. The never ending story of this game of cat and mouse.

You’d even confronted him about his behaviour.

“How could you tell me that you loved me to then ghost me? Who does that?”

“I wasn’t lying to you, I honestly have been busy, I can’t just drop everything for you”

You knew it was wrong, but you still wanted him, you craved him.

••••••

Sipping on the vodka in your glass was the only comfort for you at this moment. You’d text your best friend but of course just had the same old reply.

“Just block him, he’s made his feelings clear, he’s making a complete fool out of you”

You decided enough was enough, you’d walk over to his and see him in person, you couldn’t take this uncertainty anymore.

Walking to Noah’s was almost like a dream, but not the good kind, the feeling of dread was making you feel sick with every step, especially by the time you were outside his front door.

Taking a deep breath, you rung the doorbell, every nerve in your body on edge in preparation for the confrontation you knew was coming.

After a moment, you heard the sound of footsteps before the door swung open to reveal Noah’s tall frame.

“What are you doing here?”

You were sure you looked awful, dark circles around your puffy eyes, hair a mess.

“I needed to speak to you, can I please come in?”

Noah looked annoyed but stepped aside so you could enter.

“I haven’t got long, I’m going out soon”

Your chest became tighter at his words, the excuses already starting.

“Then just be honest with me Noah. What the fuck am I to you?”

He looked slightly shocked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You’re my friend y/n, I care a lot for you, you know that”

You couldn’t help but laugh bitterly.

“Do I? You told me you loved me and then ghosted me! No one is this fucking busy Noah! I’m tired of the games, I want you to be honest with me!”

The tears had already started, leaving a warm trail down your cheeks as you spoke.

Noah seemed to look anywhere but you, not able to meet your eyes as he answered.

“We have already been through this, I’ve just been busy”

“So you keep saying. May I remind you Noah that you originally chased me! You were the one who wanted to date, you were the one texting me and doing everything you could to make me fall for you! And now what? You just can’t be bothered anymore and don’t have the balls to tell me? You scared you’ll lose your booty call if you do?”

The last year was finally catching up with you, all the games and played feelings were coming to the surface, something you could clearly see was bothering Noah.

“Or are you too scared to actually commit because you’re frightened of getting hurt?”

“Are you for real? I’m not scared of anything!”

“Then why?!”

Noah throw his hands up in frustration and paced around.

“Because I don’t want to be with you! It’s that simple! You’re not the only girl I can have or have had! You’re a joke, you’re treating me like I’m your fucking boyfriend and I’m not, we were never dating!”

You stood in shock, how could he say that, although you never had an actual label, you’d been a couple in every way but the title and he knew that, he even wanted the two of you to be ‘exclusive to each other’.

But now it was starting to make sense, why he wouldn’t take it further.

“So you made me feel like I was the only woman for you, why? You told me that you loved me, said you wanted to be with me. Fucking hell, we even sat and told each other about all the dark shit in our pasts! You once said to me that I was the one person you never wanted to hurt!”

Noah’s face had become hard, a sign that he was shutting down from the conversation.

“And I didn’t. I’m not your boyfriend, I never have been and never will be. You’re making this all up in your head and you’re acting crazy. I’d like you to leave right now”

Your body was shaking and the tears wouldn’t stop falling as you stared at him. Your voice came out as barely a whisper.

“Where’s my Noah gone? My Noah would never have done any of this?”

Instead of answering, Noah simply opened the door, void of all emotion on his face. You stood in complete disbelief before you admitted defeat, your pride had already been shattered and you couldn’t take anymore.

You ran out of the door and kept running down his driveway. You collapsed at the corner of his road, the tears never stopping as your crying pulled your breath from your lungs.

You pulled out your phone and found Noah’s chat, the sinking feeling you had was confirmed when you’d tried to call but realised you’d been blocked.

You couldn’t wrap your head around it, your Noah, the man who made you feel so special and loved could never do this. Where was he?

•••••

The days turned into weeks, turned into months and the heartache never stopped.

Noah had ripped out your heart and broken you as a person. Your friend’s were always concerned for your mental state as you tried to navigate a life without him without any closure.

You didn’t see him again, unless it was online, but you knew he was just fine. Every time you saw his photo, he looked so happy and care free, he was living his dream, the band was starting to go viral and you knew this was only the beginning.

The rumours of who he was dating of course started to spread, each one like a knife to your heart.

You never got the closure your mind needed, you had to move on with no answers. Trying to piece yourself back together.

It was the hardest break up you’d ever gone through, and although others may say “well you weren’t actually together”

That was worse, he was the man you had completely fallen in love with, who never truly loved you back but made you feel like he did.

Noah was the one who never was.

[urno1luv]

sana x reader

what if you were sana's new manager?

(also if this gets enough attention, i'll make a what-if series with different female idols, mostly pretty dark tho so dni if uncomfy!!)

cw: EXTREMELY ooc sana (she's so sweet, but here? not so much😭), age gap, power imbalance, obsessive/possessive behaviours, implied non-con towards the end

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

the moment you were promoted to being her manager, everything changed. sana was beautiful, poised, a fan favorite, and an idol who's been around for so long. naturally, you were really shocked, and slightly scared. imagine being in charge of a member of TWICE?? it was enough pressure to make anyone succumb quickly to stress, but you were dedicated to the job, which caught sana's attention, but not in a good way.

sana was not really pleased to see how... composed you were around her. the amount of compliments she got daily made her rather egotistical, so seeing you this "unbothered" when accompanying her to meetings and events really ticked her off, to put it simply. and when she heard about how old you were... sana's pride was HURT. a woman in charge of what she does, one who was younger than her by a few years? don't piss her off.

the next time you saw her, the mask fell off. sana would laugh at your smallest mistakes, throw away the food you gave her after a music show promotion, RIGHT in front of you, and treat every effort as something to be dismissed or useless. "do you think this is good enough? you were running late, i'm your fucking boss. seriously, what kind of manager are you?" sana scoffed as your face heated up in embarrassment, tears pricking at your eyes. why was she suddenly so mean? she stood closer to you, her tone laced with sadistic amusement. "don't cry, love, if you were more competent, i wouldn't be pissed, but... gotta work with what i got."

sana would sneer at your pathetic attempts to please her, and one night, she dropped all of her makeup brushes, and forced you to pick them up one by one. but what sana didn't expect was to feel.. something for you that very second. the way you always came back to her, still took care of her despite her countless insults towards you... she definitely went home to reflect on that.

the conclusion sana came to was that she really did like you. in her own, cruel way. and we've already established how she was an egotistical maniac who uses her power, so she refused to let you step out of line or get close to anyone else, and she’d punish you in small, petty ways if you tried. schedule changes without warning, "accidentally" spilling rumours that made things harder for you, and reminders that you only had this position because she allowed it. as much as you wanted to push back, the truth was undeniable: sana held your career—and your sanity—in her hands.

sana's fixation on you only seemed to get worse, as the months went by. and she made sure you KNEW it. she knew where you were at all times, texting you constantly, filling your phone with messages that were affectionate one moment and threatening the next. if you so much as glanced at anyone else, sana would go out of her way to isolate you, to sabotage anything that might distract you from her. "you’re mine," she'd whisper, almost tenderly, before tightening her grip on your waist as she pushed you against a wall. every attempt to set boundaries only seemed to feed her obsession. and with every passing day, you realized that she’d do anything, and i mean ANYTHING, to keep you by her side, whether you wanted it or not.

one fateful night, where she had dragged you to her penthouse, you would soon come to the realisation that sana was truly someone that you should've ran away from a loooong time ago. you sat stiffly on the edge of her bed, the dim glow of the bedside lamp casting shadows across the room. sana stood in front of you, close enough that you could feel the weight of her gaze. her hand moved to your shoulder, fingers pressing in with a possessive force that left no doubt who was in control. “don’t even think about leaving,” she whispered, her voice chillingly soft, as if daring you to defy her. sana leaned in, her other hand resting heavily between your legs, pinning you in place. every touch felt like a claim, each movement sending a quiet threat through the air. as her fingers tightened their hold, you realized escape wasn’t an option; you were exactly where she wanted you, and there was no way out.

sana's hands moved back up to your shoulders, firm and unyielding as she guided you back against the pillows, her hot tongue tracing possessively along your neck, the saliva cooling down quickly in the cold air, making your pulse race. she murmured sweet nothings into your ear, calming you down, voice low and commanding as she leaned in, body pressing onto yours. her hand slid down to your wrist, pinning it against the bed as her lips brushed close to your ear, each word a quiet, inescapable claim. the weight of sana's presence left no room for protest, every touch a reminder that here, in this room, you belonged entirely to her.

💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋💋

when you woke, the room was dark, save for the faint glow of her phone screen, casting eerie shadows across her face as sana sat beside you, watching. you tried to move, but a strange, deep ache reminded you how powerless you were in her world, in her hands. her fingers traced along your arm, and she smiled—a soft, chilling smile that only deepened your sense of dread. "you belong to me," sana whispered, voice filled with a twisted satisfaction. "I told you, no one else could ever love you like I do." you couldn’t remember when you’d fallen asleep, or how long she’d been there, but one thing was certain: there was no part of you sana hadn’t claimed, judging from the pain in your heart, and the bruises and hickeys shamelessly left in obvious areas.

[danidrabbles]

I've been in a real reading mood lately and it made me SO excited to revisit this. Miranda, we've messaged about this before, but I wanted to give it the proper reblog it deserves!!!! (This got a little long. I'd apologize, but as a writer myself I know (hope) it's fun)

Because Dieter and ex-wife!Reader are on my mind all the time. I really like reading about people meeting, but love reading about people and knowing there's history between them, it makes things so bittersweet. Especially with these two because the love is there; you make it so efficiently evident in their "Do you want the truth or a lie?" conversation, and when they admit they think about each other, when Dieter says “I think you worried about what the real truth would be. We’ve got something here and it’s worrisome.” 🥺 It's a quick interaction, but it says so much about them.

As someone who was once a teenager with a crush on David Duchovny, Reader's meeting with Dustin is soooooo satisfying. The way he describes the production of the movie

"Everyone thinks us Hollywood actors just commit to this shit knowing it’s shit but we don’t! I mean not those of us who started at the beginning. We thought it’d be good. Like Jurassic Park, but yanno, we didn’t get Steven Spielberg. We keep getting arthouse fucks. And I like arthouse fucks–don’t get me wrong–but what’s a man with an IPhone know about blockbusters?”

made me laugh out loud.

The interactions between Dieter and Dustin are so fun, too. Their snarking back and forth while discovering they might not be so different after all... You manage to build so much tension between them and Reader in their conversation with her by the door. But then you also pack in gut punches like, “You don’t know. You don’t know me.” “That’s not true.” “Yeah it is. I’m different now. I’m not the woman you dragged around all those years.” and “You love him so much. It isn’t fair. You will love him your whole life if you don’t stop this.” OOF. ouch! It’s all walking that line between fun, comedy and sexy so well.

The smut is so good Miranda... Even on a reread I’m sitting here like 😳

Having Dustin between Reader’s legs, having so much fun with her, while she and Dieter kiss, and the way it goes back and forth between the sensations of something new (Dustin) and something familiar (Dieter) is sooooooo fantastic, I love how you kind of juxtaposed them without ever making one feel less involved in the threesome than the other. Also so good for her (reader insert me) to have her little You used to masturbate to this man. Revelation!!!! (and her getting to say it to him later was so… soft?)

I’m obsessed with the fact that you went there with Dieter and Dustin, too. Like not that I didn’t expect that of you, it’s just that M/M/F threesomes can often be... more on the M/F/M/ side, you know what I mean? When they kissed, when Dustin made Dieter suck on his fingers (As Dieter’s mouth wraps around his fingers, you feel a warm bead of pre-cum drip onto your skin. Damn…) when Reader lays back and tells Dieter “I want to see what you’re like with men,” and they just. went for it. LOVED it.

There’s so much I want to comment on, but instead I’ll give you some passages that made my heart ache…

You know he would do anything - anything - for you if you’d just ask. His love burns like a million suns and you’ll be Icarus in every lifetime. You fool. Kiss another man hard and seek penance in his presence behind you. 

That’s how you taste. He savors it like a wine connoisseur does his wine, running it over his tongue and thinking too long about how to describe it. It is so utterly you, it makes him yearn for another life. 

Some things are so true they don’t need to be confirmed. They just are. The sky is blue and people die, and Dieter is a man who will give you everything because he was once a man who gave you nothing.

“I don’t seem to regret you. Even though sometimes it’d be better if I did.”

It’s so beautiful and so bittersweet. It’s so good 😭 

And some lines that made… other places ache…

Dustin’s fingers are still in you, on you, when Dieter leans down and presses his tongue flat against your clit, greedy with lust. He licks at you around Dustin’s fingers and it feels like too much. They seem to make an agreement, working you at the same time. You cum quickly and this one seems to go on for eternity.

“He wants you so bad. Look—” You feel Dustin’s grin already across your back. “He’s so fucking hard for you. Just as hard as me.”

“Maybe we’ll do it..” he grunts, bottoming out again, “We’ll do you together. You’re tight as hell, but I know we can get you wide. Couldn’t we?”

Your Dustin is lowkey a fucking menace, jesus... Which genuinely surprised me so much!!!! But also the You see Dustin in the hazy peripheral. Lolling your head to the side, you focus on him. He stands at the side of the bed, smiles at you when you catch his eyes. With his cock standing out in front of him like that, he looks a bit unserious. If you weren’t so full of Dieter, perhaps you’d be amused by this. made me laugh so hard.

THE ENDING IS SO FUN??? It’s so creative and I love the promise of more between these three. I’ve attached Dieter to this email for obvious transparency reasons. He says he’d gladly help me carry your canvas (figuratively and literally). made me giggle.

Miranda, this was so fantastic. I said it before but I love the way you work in all these emotions so seamlessly, while never losing any of the sincerity in the process, it's so admirable. Your word choices, your analogies and metaphors, the way you picked such an unconventional relationship for this and made it work... You're an amazing writer, I am in awe of you, and I love this story so much!

three's company

pairing: dieter bravo x ex-wife!reader x dustin mulray rating: e (explicit) tags/warnings: smut, pinv, protected sex, oral (female receiving) *inserts good for her meme*, oral (male receiving), dirty talk, light voyeurism, talk and use of drugs and alcohol (weed & wine), the weirdest situationship you ever did see, a bit of angst, jealousy, fingering, dubious consent (but like, only a tiny bit dubious. the tiniest bit) word count: 16.k+ (don't ask me what happened there) summary: The world is slowly descending into madness all around you, so you decide to give in and go with Dieter to his latest poor decision: a franchise movie filming in England. One night while there, you both sweep another into this odd half-hearted, life-long tryst you've got. a/n: i don't know how i got here but i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it. i could dedicate this to a lot of things but mostly i'm going to dedicate it the red shoe diaries. thanks to david and the horny '90s. also to maria (@sweetly-yours-and-mine) who has spent countless nights working through this with me. you are a gem

“I don’t like the idea of you being alone.”

“I’m not alone.”

“Facetime isn’t the same as real people.”

“Those are bad movies, Bravo. I’m not sure I want to be around those who make them for that long.”

“I know.”

“Actors have never been my favorite company.”

“I know.”

“And I just don’t want to go.”

“I know.”

“I’ll learn to stop answering your calls one day, you know? And then you’ll do everything alone, even a global disaster.”

“I knew you’d give in. That's my girl.”

——

The hotel is a converted English Manor - the very stuff of childhood fairytales and honeymoon daydreams with its Italianate architecture and technicolor green grass. It is warm, inviting, with high ceilings and the soft, consistent hum of human activity as workers scurry around to greet the incoming guests. They filter you in through white plastic tents and stick cotton swabs up your nose before giving you the WIFI password and a room with a stunning view of their expansive, manicured grounds. You don’t have any grounds to look in America, and your studio apartment has been eerily quiet as of late. The pulse of life has stopped in Los Angeles, but here it comes back with an unvarying rhythm.

You don’t like to admit it, but Dieter was right: you are not above loneliness.

The room they give you feels anachronistic, too modern and beige, but cozy in the way all four star hotels aim to be. You’ve got a television, a pristine bathroom that hosts a bathtub and a shower, and enough floor space to move around without stubbing any toes. There’s ample furniture too: a reading chair by the large window, the queen bed, and another chair by the door, which looks like it’s meant only for bags and the stray suit jacket. They’ve given you decorative pillows and instructions not to leave for two weeks - not for any reason.

You lay out on the queen bed and Facetime Dieter. The irony of the situation is too good not to tease him for.

“I know,” he gruffs, picking up your call immediately.

You can’t help but laugh at the misery that drips from his voice. “I’ve always been better at being alone. I think it was you who didn’t want to be alone.”

He runs a hand through his unruly hair and frowns. Even if you won’t take it, you like the idea that he’s only a long walk away now. You give in and shuck off your winner’s ego. “It’s only two weeks,” you assure kindly.

“If I’m good, do you think I can earn a sleepover?” There’s mischief in his eyes, flirtation thick on his tongue. You look askance at him and the dimple in his cheek deepens. “I’m only kidding of course.”

“Ha ha,” you deadpan.

“It’ll be nice after two weeks,” he promises. You know that tone, far off and introspective. It’s not good.

“Just Facetime me when you’re losing your mind.”

“You don’t want that. I’ll be on the phone with you all the time.”

You stare down at the phone, frowning. He smiles, coming back to his body. “I’ll be alright, kid. I always am.”

“Two weeks is not so long.”

“No,” he agrees quietly.

——

Two weeks is a prison sentence.

The room they put you in, while spacious, is merely a cell block now, reduced down to its most basic elements: the bathroom with the shower and the tub, which you’ve used so much it's a miracle your skin hasn’t fallen right off; the bedroom area, with the reading chair by the window; the queen bed, which you stopped making after day four and try your damndest not to fall in before 3pm. You’ve paced the floor so many times, feeling the angry itch of loneliness coupled with a newfound, perpetually lurking anxiety.

“One more day,” he reminds you over the telephone, trying to allay your fears. You hear the sound of his tub running in the background, over the static of his voice, and you wonder what he looks like right now. You picture two week’s more worth of beard growth, the slouch of his back as he sits on the edge of the tub, the pudge of his stomach, and the inciting trail of hair below his belly button. And his naked self. At home he was perpetually nude, and you imagine it’s no different now.

You find your own reflection in the mirror over the sink: sunken eyes, with bags underneath and your flesh taking on a slightly gray cast, the color of isolation.The window sun doesn’t seem to be helping much. You frown self consciously, but try to remind yourself he must be in a state himself; he stopped Facetiming you a week ago, opting for the good ol’ telephone call at least once or twice a day since.

“I’m going out of my mind,” you say as you continue to look at yourself. You lower your voice, vulnerability shared in a hushed, confessional tone. You imagine Dieter again: with that soft concentrated look that pulls his eyebrows together, the one that enhances the lines between them. They called him a curious child and now he’s got the lines to show for it. He told you that. The thought makes you smile at yourself, but you still look so tired.

“Just one day,” he supplies again. He sounds vaguely apologetic.

“I know,” you tell him simply.

“What have you been up to today?” he asks. You hear water come to a stop and a gentle splash follows it. He’s gotten in. “Anything fun?”

“I read, watched a movie. You?”

“I got high and jerked off. So, you know, nothing different than the past thirteen days that you’ve called.”

You scan your reflection in the mirror, contemplating your next words. It isn’t a good idea, but nothing is. “What did you think about?” you ask.

“Lots of things.”

He tells you this as casually as if you’ve asked him his name. You are so achingly lonely and this is so embarrassing, but you can’t help it. You know he’ll let you. Hell, he’s probably been waiting weeks for this. Years.

“Do you ever think about me?”

There’s a short, considerate pause. “Do you want the truth or a lie?”

“A lie.” You worry your lip between your teeth.

“Oh, never.”

You laugh, relieved. “I thought you were going to say something different.”

“Hm,” he hums, “I don’t think that’s the truth. I think you worried about what the real truth would be. We’ve got something here and it’s worrisome.”

“You sound like my mother.”

“Mine too. She thinks inviting you was a terrible idea but she wants you to know she’s thinking of you.”

“Mine hates you.”

He grunts. “Suppose I deserve that, don't I?”

“I think this is the first time in history that you diverted phone sex with talk like that.”

“I’m getting older, wiser,” he jokes. Then, “Do you think of me?”

“Do you want a lie or the truth?”

He considers it for a moment. “The truth. Hit me with it hard, baby.”

“Oh, a lot more than I should.”

——

The rapt sound of knuckles against your door incites an excitement in you that you haven’t felt since childhood. You jump from the bed, uncaring of the state of yourself, hungry for the news that awaits on the other side.

A kindly British man tells you that the quarantine has been lifted and that there will be a party and dinner for the cast and crew in a couple of hours. Formal wear is encouraged but not required.mYou spend the next few hours undoing what’s been done by isolation: the bags under your eyes; the unkempt room, with the fetid smell of loneliness wafting over everything; the living out of your suitcase and the wrinkles on your best clothes. You find an iron in the closet and shave your entire body.

Dieter stops by your room while you’re in the middle of getting ready. He sits quietly at the edge of your bed, watching you in the mirror with that dazed look in his eyes. He wears the ugliest goddamn housecoat you’ve ever seen, but he’d smiled so wide at the door that you’ve forgiven him for it.

“You’re excited,” he observes. His fingers fiddle with the sunglasses in his hands. “I thought you hate actors.”

You try to steady your hand as you bring the eyeliner up to your eyelid. “I don’t care what they are, as long as they can hold a conversation,” you mumble.

“I can hold a conversation. Maybe we ought to stay here and celebrate with each other.”

You look at him in the mirror, trying to figure out if he’s serious or not. You can’t tell. “You’re kidding.”

He shrugs. There’s a distant look in his eyes, as if he’s thinking too hard about something.

“Are you high?” you ask him.

“No, but I’m thinking maybe I should be.”

“Cheer up, boy scout. You’re the one who wanted to do this goddamn movie.”

He lets out a defeated sigh and falls back into the mattress with a groan. “I’m going to kill myself.”

———

He doesn’t kill himself, but he looks like he’s still weighing the prospect of it as you take your drink from the bartender.

Dieter suffers no one lightly, and you have a feeling the personable strawberry blonde in front of him isn’t exactly his crowd. You smile over the rim of your drink, enjoying seeing him squirm for once. Everything seems to come easy to him–except this. He’s never been very good at socializing when he doesn’t want to.

“That your boyfriend?”

You turn your head and find Dustin Mulray. You feel a hint of your teenage self come back to you as you look at him, struck wordless. It’s nothing as strong as the love that had you tacking up posters with his face on it to bedroom walls, but something vaguely akin to it. You’re happy to find it manifests itself as a friendly smile instead of love confessions. Perhaps it’s helped by his appearance: In his infinity scarf and beige knitted sweater, he reminds you more of a homely professor than a Hollywood movie star. You think: Movie stars! They’re just like us! while shaking your head in answer.

“No,” you tell him, “He’s my ex-husband.”

“Ah. That’s my ex-wife with him. Marriage is tricky, isn’t it?”

He takes a seat next to you and orders a drink. The bartender sits it on a napkin for him and he turns to you, his blue-green eyes awaiting an answer. You hadn’t thought he would want to talk to you, not really. You’re used to being invisible at events.

“I guess you could say that,” you reply.

“Are you working on the movie?”

You remember what Dieter told you to say if anyone asked: “For legal purposes, yes. Art coordinator #3.”

This amuses him, drawing out a smile. “That title come with pay or would you say it's just an internship?”

“I guess you could call it an internship.” You smile back at him. “Why? You think you could pull some strings and get me a paycheck?”

“I think I’d do you one better and get you a better place of employment. Have you read the script?” This makes you let out a genuine laugh. He brightens, smiling a little wider. “What? It’s the truth! Everyone thinks us Hollywood actors just commit to this shit knowing it’s shit but we don’t! I mean—“ He looks over the crowd, lowering his head closer to yours conspiratorially. “—Not those of us who started at the beginning. We thought it’d be good. Like Jurassic Park, but yanno, we didn’t get Steven Spielberg. We keep getting arthouse fucks. And I like arthouse fucks–don’t get me wrong–but what’s a man with an IPhone know about blockbusters?”

“Ah, I feel you but I can’t quite reach you from here.”

“No, I bet not.”

There’s something simmering in that line. If you didn’t know better, you’d figure it was a light flirtation. Surely not.

“I liked your early stuff better,” you confess.

“Me too. But those were the glory days and now I have alimony and child support to pay. How about him?” he nods in the direction of Dieter. “You get half his ass in court?”

You shake your head. His candor, although surprising, is refreshing. “No, no big payout. We’re amicable.”

He clicks his tongue in awe. “I envy the bastard but I can’t say I didn’t deserve my lot.”

“You haven’t even finished your first drink and you’re already gonna confess your sins?” You raise a curious, teasing eyebrow. He hangs his head and laughs.

“You married an actor. Don’t we all wear our hearts on our sleeves?”

“Mm, not mine,” you shake your head. “It seems he saved his emotions for the silver screen.”

It’s Dustin’s turn to raise his own curious eyebrow.

“How cozy.” You look over your shoulder to see Dieter standing in front of your chair, his fingers reaching out to the back of your chair. He looks…jealous.

“Dustin, this is Dieter,” you introduce them. Dustin sticks his hand out and Dieter plays nice, shaking it with a passing grin.

“Nice to meet you,” Dustin mutters. Dieter nods his head. “Yeah, you too. I was actually coming over here to steal her away for a moment. If she doesn’t mind.” He looks over at you, expectant. There’s a bite to his words you don’t like at all. How fucking rich, you think bitterly, remembering all the times you had to sit by while he shamelessly flirted with half the fucking world.

“She does mind,” you respond. The sharp finality of it makes even Dustin cough awkwardly.

Dieter looks taken aback. “Okay,” he mutters, looking between the two of you. He nods again, as though he’s drawn some conclusion. “Alright.”

You watch as he walks away to the other side of the room. Looking back at Dustin, you give him a rueful grin. “Sorry. And here I was, talking about how amicable we are. Exes of the year.”

He raises his glass. “To us pitiful people and our pitiful crash and burn marriages.”

You clink your glass against his, fighting the urge to cry or kill Dieter. “To us.”

—

The dinner table arrangement is unforgiving for Dieter. He’s sat next to Dustin at the far end of the table, with yet another red headed actress to his left. Unlike the talkative one, this one is in a state of brooding and continually huffing at everything he says. You’re slightly more lucky, sat at the other end, sandwiched between Dustin's ex-wife and the director.

He watches woefully as you chat with the ex-wife, nodding your head along politely. You were always such a good listener, even with the worst people. He frowns. He had changed his outfit between the party and the dinner, opting for a classier open dress shirt. He had seen the look in your eye when you had opened the door for him earlier, and figured he could use all the help he could get now that he’s undoubtedly pissed you off. He had hoped that they would’ve sat him next to you so you could talk. He’s even wearing that cologne you like. Or used to like. He doesn’t know anymore.

“So, like what—you usually get along with her or…?” Dustin asks him, following his eyeline right to you. Dustin brings the cool champagne they’ve served to his lips, his eyes too burningly curious as he gazes at you.

Dieter tries not to be possessive. He saw it in your eyes, heard it in your tone: that sharp, angry disappointment that you’re so used to delivering him. You don’t like when he gets like that. Not that he has much. This is a relatively new side effect he’s required since the divorce. He shrugs lazily, pushing the sunglasses up his nose. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

This earns him an even laugh. He looks over at the older man, frowning. “What?”

“I see magazines with your face all over it, man. C’mon, we all kiss and tell, even if we don’t want to.”

Dieter bites at the side of his cheek and considers him for a moment. “Look you and your wife-“

“Ex-wife-“

Dieter nods, uncaring. “Sure, your ex wife — you both like to talk a lot.”

“I’m just trying to figure out if I can make a pass at her or not. Make it easy for me. I don’t want to have to suffer this entire shoot because you’ve got some weird shitty thing going on between you. I don’t step on kept grounds….Well, not anymore,” he adds.

“How noble,” Dieter says wryly, “She’s not mine to answer for. Besides, it seems like you were already doing a good job at making a pass earlier.”

He fights down the petulant child inside of him, biting at his lip instead of wearing an all out pout. Through the concealed tint of his sunglasses, his eyes soften at the sight of you across the room. He can almost feel the crack in his heart as he considers the fact that you might have actually liked talking to this man.

Dieter knows one day it’ll come, the moment when you find yourself in a serious relationship with someone else. Most of the time he thinks he’ll be okay — that it will affect him like it must but it won’t ruin him entirely — but sometimes, like right now, he worries he’ll get on his knees and beg you not to do it. You don’t deserve that. He hates himself for the greed he feels, how he can’t ever just let you be happy. He doesn’t want to be like this dick, taking and taking from his ex-wife, all while he noses around and wets his dick in anything that will let him. He never wants to embarrass you like that. Not again. Never again.

Chugging the last bits of his drink, Dieter looks over at the man. Dustin looks back at him, nonplussed. It takes herculean strength to say the next words.

“She doesn’t like men who are crude or too direct, but to be frank, I think you can’t really fuck up with her. She likes you and always has.” Dieter casts a glance in your direction again, feeling mischievous. He smirks, letting himself have this one. “Well, since you were last relevant, that is.”

Dustin laughs the burn off, shaking his head. He touches Dieter’s shoulder in a show of faux friendliness. “We’re in the same shitty franchise now, bud, so welcome to the club,” he whispers, just low enough for him to hear.

Dieter raises his empty glass to Dustin with a forced grin. Feeling defeated but comforted by the fact that he’s now got something to separate him from that asshole, he raises his hand to the pretty waitress for another drink. To celebrate.

But he truthfully doubts there will be much to celebrate.

He fucking hates Hollywood.

—-

Truth be told, Dieter didn’t plan on doing this tonight. Getting high. He planned, if he was being honest with himself - and he is trying, at his most introspective more now than ever - to be doing you. Had he invited you on the vacation just to fuck you? No, but ignobility inevitably follows in the tracks of his nobility. It was written between the lines, something you both had hinted at over the past two weeks. But now you’re somewhere else. There's a lot of rooms in this hotel. Maybe you’re in your own. Maybe not. Dustin had looked like he was going to devour you at the bar earlier tonight, so probably, you’re doing him in his room.

Or do you bring men back to your own place now? He doesn’t know.

Dieter would blanch if he wasn’t so high. He sits in the middle of the decorative couch, staring at the ceiling with glazed eyes, and he tries to imagine a different version of your last phone conversation.

When you asked if he ever thought of you when he touched himself, he’d tell you the truth. Because you like the truth. He’d say: all the time. More than he should. Really a sickening, depressing amount because he misses you, especially lately. New York is a terrible place to be these days; death permeates everything and nothing seems as right as it used to. Even loneliness feels worse, no longer poetic or artistic but just lonely. It's less like Al Pacino on the set of the Godfather and more like Michael Corleone, sitting alone at the empty dining room table. Days stretch on and on, and he’s hungry for life that has halted so he paints terribly, insecure of even hobbies. What else is he supposed to do but play with himself and remember poignantly that he had once been married to a lovely sort of woman who would’ve made it all better, if only he hadn’t fucked it up?

Well, he doesn’t think about that last part so much. It doesn’t really make for good masturbating material.

He wasn’t sure he was going to survive the pandemic before they asked him to do this movie. And of course he asked you along when they had. It’s the only way in the world he could ask for your help: through omission of truths and beating around the bush. He wonders if you might take pity on his soul again and let him crash with you for a while, just to wait the rest of this out together after the movie wraps. If you really are fucking Dustin, it might make things tense but not impossible. He’ll learn to live with it. He’ll have to. What else is he going to do? Go back to this moment in time and stop you?

Perversely he wonders if Dustin is not the first man you’ve fucked since the divorce. You’re not his last but he wishes you were a lot. It’s been nearly two years and he’s forgotten what you feel like, what you taste like. It’s miserable. When he touches himself and thinks of you, you’re like an apparition, some Franksteinian woman built of fragmented, hazy memories. All he remembers was that the last time wasn’t nice and that you didn’t cum. He couldn’t make you, something about you being too sad or too angry. It was a shame, because he’d always imagined the two of you would’ve gone out with a bang.

This thought makes him smile, but it doesn’t last for long. There's nothing funny about your divorce, not really. He broke your heart tediously, and now you’ve got to tell people that it wasn’t just one thing but many things. He knows that. An unanswered phone call. That waitress in Vegas who he flirted with so unabashedly your mother thought he was cheating on you - along with half the internet and for a brief moment, yourself too. The apartment in New York he bought and moved into without asking you. That art house opening he missed, the one you’d asked him continually throughout the week to set time aside for. So many things—the seven sins and just a few more to top it off.

He wasn’t really surprised when you had asked him for a divorce over lunch one day. You didn’t even live together at the time - the New York apartment became more permanent than he had originally planned for - and you looked so tired, like you were drained of life, overwrought and quiet. What surprised him was the fact that you hadn’t done it sooner. The knowing that you had tried against hope was not an easy one for him to reconcile with for a long time after that. Even in that moment you had developed a sort of halting lisp as you pushed the statement out, as though your own body protested it. He remembers that better than the sex.

You had waited for him to get better and he never did, so you both took your chicken salads with a side of failed marriage that day, and now here you are. Dieter sighs, feeling the familiar pangs of remorse.

“Whatever drugs you’re on must not be very good because you look miserable.”

Dieter lifts his head off the back of the loveseat, straining his eyes to make out the shape that’s hovering in his doorway. His brain catches up with him before his eyes do, and the distinct mumbling voice of the figure comes to him. Dustin.

Shaking his head, Dieter laughs, relieved. “I was thinking.”

Dustin takes this as an invitation to cross the corridor. As he comes closer, Dieter finds he’s in more casual clothes - perhaps even sleepwear - clutching a bottle of wine in his hand. If this is a peace offering, Dieter will take the olive branch. He’s so goddamn pleased you’re not fucking this guy, he might even kiss him.

“You want a joint?” he asks him, straightening on the couch. Suddenly it’s not so hard to be magnanimous, not with the sheer euphoria of you not having betrayed him (is he allowed to call it that? Probably not, but there’s no word quite so apt). He feels he might even be smiling, but he can’t be sure. He hopes so.

“God, please,” Dustin groans. He sits the bottle of wine on the table and rubs his hands together eagerly as Dieter lights the one he’s been puffing away at.

“I figured you were the one with the goods,” Dustin says around a cloud of smoke. He looks over at the open door, nodding at it. “We should close that, huh?”

Dieter shrugs. He thought he had closed the door, truthfully. “Probably should. I think I saw a kid here,” he says. Neither of them get up.

Dustin passes the joint to Dieter. He takes another hit when he gets it because fuck it, this is a celebration. “What, she didn’t want you?” he can’t help but ask.

Dustin laughs mutedly. “I don’t know. I figured by the way you reacted at dinner that I better not try. And there's that thing with my wife.” He shrugs. “I’m always fucking that one up. I thought I should just wander around and see where the night takes me.”

Dieter rests his head back against the couch again, nodding sympathetically. “Mm, I understand. Me too.”

“What’d you do?”

“The better question would be what didn’t I do.”

“Did you cheat?”

Dieter turns his head. “I don’t know. I didn’t fuck anyone else while we were together but she said I might as well as have. And I guess she’s whose opinion really matters, isn’t it?”

Dustin mumbles an agreement. “I fucked a lot of people,” he confesses. “Even the divorce lawyer.”

“And she still talks to you?” Dieter asks.

“We’ve got a kid.”

“That’s right. She told me that, because she likes to talk.”

“Hey don’t be a dick. Yours does too, you know? That’s what women like to do—talk. And they like to be listened to.”

Dieter narrows his eyes. “Is that what you were doing at the bar? Talking?”

Dustin nods. “Yeah. Listening, too.”

“I listened.”

“But you didn’t like what you heard.”

Dustin says this more as a statement than a question. Dieter looks back to the ceiling and pinches his eyes closed, too high. “Mm,” he mumbles. “I’m just so happy she isn’t fucking you right now. I really thought she would be there for a second and it was making me sick.”

Dustin huffs out a laugh. “I take it you never shared?”

“What do you mean ‘shared’?” Dieter asks. “Like wife swapping? No. We seemed to have left the practice in the sixties.”

“Not necessarily. Threesomes?”

“Have you done that?”

Dustin shrugs, smiling unashamedly. “Before we got married, of course,” he tells Dieter. Then, “And a little after too.”

Even with the high, Dieter can’t help but feel curious about the arrangement. “With men?”

“Sure. It wouldn’t have been fair with just women. That was the rules, anyway. Why? You’ve never been with a man?”

“A few. That’s not what strikes me as odd. You just didn’t strike me as the type.”

“I wouldn’t say I was, but fair is fair. And it can be nice. Interesting.”

Dieter rolls his eyes. “Gay sex is gay sex, no matter how you cut it. If you’re about to tell me it doesn’t count, I’m gonna laugh.”

“I didn’t say it wasn’t. I just like there to be a girl there too.”

The information weighs heavily on Dieter’s drug induced state of mind. He finds himself beginning to laugh. “Wait a minute, are you trying to talk me into a threesome? Is that what this is? Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson? That’s what the wine is about, isn’t it?” He points to the bottle in question, and everything suddenly seems much too funny.

Dustin begins laughing too. “No! The wine was for something. I just couldn’t figure out what”

Dieter ignores him. “Your…your wife hates me,” he manages to hiccup out, “And mine? She—“ She hates me too. This thought makes the laughing come to a slow halt. That’s right. She hates him too.

“I bet she’d do it,” Dustin supplies, soft chuckles still emitting from him. “They can surprise you like that sometimes.”

Dieter shakes his head, his smile more soft, almost sad. “Not with me. I pissed her off. I was thinking I’d try with that waitress downstairs but she’s young and I’ll for sure hate myself for that later.”

“Don’t do that. Your wife really will hate you for that,” Dustin advises. “Take it from an expert. Just call her. Apologize.”

Dieter shakes his head. “That won’t work. It’ll just make her more mad when she realizes I’m high.”

Dustin considers this. “Maybe. I don’t know. Let’s go to her room. Do it in person.”

“You can’t go,” Dieter tells him evenly. It’s not often he’s the voice of reason — even less so when he’s high — and this dynamic is beginning to make him feel out of sorts. He wants to shut his eyes and sleep this off, but naturally — because he is who he is — he will follow this train of thought through with Dustin.

“Why not?” Dustin smiles widely, catching his stride in the conversation. He speaks more animatedly, bringing his hands into the mix for emphasis. “She doesn’t want to fight with you in front of me! And she can see we’ve made friends. That’s progress! She’ll like that.”

Dieter considers this. He does want to show you he’s sorry — really.

“You just want to fuck her,” he says to Dustin. He’s too high to be angry, even if he really wanted to be, but he is suspicious.

When Dustin doesn’t respond to that, Dieter narrows his eyes. “You do!” he accuses, acutely horrified by the idea.

Dustin looks at him, a smile playing across his lips. “C’mon, aren’t you a little curious to see what it’d be like?”

“No. And besides, even if I was, I don’t think she would. She’s not…I don’t know, I don't know how to explain it.” Dieter pinches up his face, stuck for the right words. “She’s not a prude by any means, but I don’t think she would.”

“Would you? If she did?”

Dieter doesn’t consider the question, only beats around it. “She wouldn’t. I know her.”

He watches as Dustin rises from the couch. “Let’s just go ask her.”

Dieter jumps up, feeling sobriety sneak up on him. “No!” he says, horrified.

But Dustin has snatched up his bottle of wine and began to make his way out into the corridor before Dieter can stop him.

So crumbles the olive branch.

—-

When you see Dustin standing at your door, holding up a bottle of wine with a goofy grin, you think it's a sign from the Heavens above. No more Dieter, that’s what it tells you. He’s ruined your life for a decade now and it’s a cause you’ve got to accept is a lost one. A new man is here and you’re lonely, and you didn’t even have to go search this one out. You smile, open the door a little wider.

But then you see Dieter shuffling down the corridor, brown eyes blown wide. Dustin looks over at him with a grin and you realize with a sinking feeling that this wasn’t what you imagined it was. You don’t know what it is, to be exact, but you’re sure it’s not right.

They look up to no good, with glazed eyes and Dustin’s too wide grin. You close your door just a smidge when Dieter shoulders to the front. He smiles apologetically, and you instinctively hold out a hand to keep him steady. But he’s steady, in no risk of tumbling forward. He puts his hands over yours before you quickly take it away. He looks stung but you don’t care.

“Hey kid,” he says sheepishly. His eyes seem to be asking you something - saying something - but you’ve long lost that way of communicating. You frown, slumping against the doorway.

“Make friends?” you ask, nodding back to Dustin.

Dustin nods his head, unaware or — more likely — too high to be aware. “He’s being a good boy,” he vouches.

“I’ve been good,” Dieter echoes. He tries another grin and that easy charm of his, but none of it works. You fold your arms over your chest.

“Listen, I’m a little tired and—“

“I’m sorry. I know what I did earlier was shitty. I don’t know why I do things like that. Don’t shut me out. Please.” Dieter pouts. The sincerity of his words punches you in the gut, and makes you angrier somehow. Like it’s mocking, even though you know it’s not. He seems to sense this and he continues talking. “I know I don’t own you like that. I had no right. None at all. And I’ve been meaning to say it to you all night. And I know you’re thinking ‘this prick is high.’ I am. I’m really high, and I can’t deny it, but I’m sorry too. I was sorry even before I got high. That’s why I got high.”

Dustin giggles behind Dieter. You look over, feeling pangs of annoyance for him too. Now that he’s not your knight in shining armor he’s just some asshole in kahoots with this asshole. “That’s terrible,” he huffs out. Dieter glares at him over his shoulder before you’ve got the chance.

“I’m sorry,” Dieter tells you again, pleadingly. You shake your head.

“You’re always sorry. That was always the problem.”

“I know! God, I know.”

“Ask her if she wants some weed,” Dustin whispers.

“And I suppose you smuggled that in?” you ask, straightening yourself up. You feel motherly, glowering at him like this. You want to wring his neck. This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was supposed fuck you, make you feel eternal and sexy. But no. Now you’re so matronly, standing there in your PJs, frowning so hard wrinkles are mapping their permanent home in the places your face creases.

He nods guiltily. “But you knew that! I’ve talked about it all week.”

“Yeah but—“ you wave your hands in the air. “It all adds up with you. It’s..”

“The little things,” he finishes sadly. “I know.”

“Why do you know so little if you know so much?”

Dustin coughs suggestively behind Dieter and Dieter turns around swiftly. “No,” he tells him sharply.

You furrow your eyebrows. “No, what?”

Dieter shakes his head dismissively and Dustin shrugs, looking around aimlessly. He’s trying hard to contain a laugh or a grin, you can tell. You hate that Dieter is making you a bitch in front of him. You could be fucking him for God’s sake, but you’re just annoyed.

“Go to bed,” you tell them.

“Well that’s the idea,” Dustin counters, his lips drawing upwards. Dieter looks pallid.

“It wasn’t,” he tells you. “I swear. I came here to stop him from asking!”

“Asking what?” you say, exasperated.

“For a threesome,” Dustin says simply, like it’s nothing at all. “Though I can see now that’s probably not in the cards. And it wasn’t really asking for one, just a hypothetical.”

You look over to Dieter. He looks down at the floor, like a kid in trouble. “Dieter,” you scold.

He shakes his head. “I didn’t want him to ask. I told him—I said you wouldn’t. I didn’t even want to suggest it,” he mumbles helplessly. “That’s not what this was supposed to be at all, kid. I swear. I just wanted to say sorry and…I don’t know.”

You don’t know whether to believe him or not. “But you talked about it?”

“Hm?” Dieter raises an eyebrow.

“The threesome? You were talking about having one?”

“Yeah, but not like—it wasn’t locker room talk. Not really. He just started talking about it and asked if you would and I said no—“

“How do you know I would say no?” you huff. “You don’t know. You don’t know me.”

Dieter frowns. “That’s not true.”

“Yeah it is,” you nod. “I’m different now. I’m not the woman you dragged around all those years.”

“I never thought of you like that.”

“Well, still, yes,” you say, feeling angry and stung and in a desperate need to prove him wrong and spite him all in one go. It’s such an ugly feeling and it’s not right, but you can tell the words take him by surprise.

“Yes?…” he asks. “Listen, I get that you’re angry, but you don’t have to do this.”

“No I want to,” you say. “If that’s what you want, what he wants, I want it too. If that’s what you’ve come for, then you’ll get it.”

He shakes his head. “You’re angry and you’re not thinking straight. You’re…being mean. And you’re only going to piss yourself off more, I think, and then you’re going to be mad at me because I drove you to it.”

You shake your head. “No. I think I’m being quite nice. I’m standing here telling you I want you to fuck me. I want him to watch. I want him to fuck me and you to watch. Whatever perverse things you cooked up together, let’s do them. If you’re going to make me mad, then I’m asking that you have the decency to fuck me too.”

Dieter struggles to compute the information. You do too. You hate him. You love him. You are so high strung and pissed and you’d do anything to be touched. Let him prove himself, goddamnit, or let him be damned jealous. Either way, you get fucked. Everyone's a winner or only you are. You don’t give a shit.

Dustin seems altogether pleased by this, clapping a hand onto Dieter’s shoulder. “I told him you might surprise him.”

“Mm hm,” you hum. You do not break eye contact with Dieter. He nods his head, resolving to trust you—or to go along with it. It doesn’t matter, just so long as he doesn’t question it.

When he steps forward, you put your hand up, blocking him. “First the weed.”

He lets out a soft sigh and stays put for a second, looking as though he wants to say something more. He’s wise enough not to in the end.

As he rounds the corner, heading back to his room, you finally glance back up at Dustin. He smiles softly. “You don’t have to do this,” he tells you. “I really was just to get some fire under his ass. I mean, I’m not against it, but if you’re just doing it because you’re pissed—“

You cut him off with a hard look. “I want to,” you say resolutely. “And I am pissed. So be it. Men start wars for less.” You shrug. He looks amused and you feel something arise in you, up alongside the anger — arousal. Desire. Something. He smiles handsomely. The grayish scruff on his cheeks bodes well with his aged features.

You do want to fuck him. That’s freeing information. Propping the door open wider with the kick of your foot, you nod him in. “C’mon. Get in here before I change my mind.”

The dichotomy between his laughter and the intensity of the fight you just had with Dieter makes you smile despite yourself.

“Wouldn’t want that,” he responds with a wink.

He brushes past you with his body and you fight the urge to suck in a shallow breath at the sudden casual contact. As he moves into the room, he pulls you away from the door with him, gripping at your shoulders. He doesn’t let you stay back and wait for Dieter like some lost puppy.

You look at him, eyes wide, and he hands you the wine in his hand. He is so unserious that it’d be plain endearing if it hadn’t been a source of annoyance a moment before. You watch as he wets his lips and looks down at yours. There seems to be a pregnant pause, eyes searching yours for an answer to an invisible question. You think of Dieter, of all the sex you’ve not had since the divorce, and how hurt he seemed when you pulled back from his touch. You love him so much. It isn’t fair. You will love him your whole life if you don’t stop this. You heed your mother’s warning too late and you kiss Dustin hard on the mouth. He takes some of your grief with a practiced tongue, kissing you deeply until you’re interrupted by a cough in the corner a few blurry moments later.

Dustin smiles, holding your face between his hands. “The weed,” he remarks. Dieter nods. He looks a little hurt, a little angry, a little betrayed—looks like he’s always made you feel, and you are not surprised it doesn’t make you feel any better.

You love him. You fool.

You shake Dustin off and Dieter hands you the joint with a forced grin. “It’s strong,” he warns softly as he lights the end. As you inhale, Dustin comes to stand behind you. Dieter’s eyes watch as his arms snake around you. He plants wet kisses alongside your neck and Dieter worries his bottom lip between his teeth.

Dieter reaches out to you, touches the wrist you’ve risen to put the joint in your mouth. His calloused fingers try to reach across burned bridges and you aid him, handing the joint back and reaching out to him too. His baggy sleep shirt is easy to take between your fingers. He takes a hit and then comes closer to you, pressing into you.

When he kisses you for the first time, you think of an ouroboros. Whole and eternal, destruction and rebirth. Your mother hates him when she once loved him. He knows your birthday and the way you like your coffee in the morning. You don’t know what he did yesterday. He doesn’t know your friend’s old cat died and that you’d been to two weddings before COVID hit. He tastes familiar and feels strange against you, unreal and vivid. You open your mouth and he slides in his tongue. The kiss isn’t like the one with Dustin; he does not explore you as much as he remembers you.

Dustin and Dieter pass the joint between them. When you feel the loss of warmth behind you, you turn curiously, detaching from Dieter’s lips. Dustin goes to abandon the joint on the table by the bed and Dieter’s hot mouth presses kisses alongside your neck. You wrap your fingers in his hair and you can't help but moan when he tongues alongside your jaw. Dustin’s eyes spark with delight at the sound.

You look down at the wine bottle still in your hand and hold it up. Dustin takes it from you, grinning. “I forgot to tell you it was my gift. I’ll open it. It’s good, aged to perfection,” he comments.

He searches your bedside for a glass and finds a crystal one beside the water vase that they gave you earlier that week. He looks down at the bottle in his hand and frowns. “Fuck, I forgot the wine opener.”

“Call the desk,” Dieter says against your skin.

You turn your head back and begin kissing him again, humming an agreement against his lips. Dustin shuffles behind you as you return completely to Dieter, your lips ghosting over his. He licks into your mouth and grasps at the back of your neck, keeping you attached to him as you begin the dance backwards to the bed.

The weed gives you a cloudy feeling, enhancing the warmth of his fingers and lips on your skin, but erasing any inhibition that would make you embarrassed to be doing it in front of another man. You like the idea of it, actually, that there’s some stranger - albeit a familiar one - standing somewhere in the room as Dieter’s fingers lift up your sleep shirt and dip beneath the hem of your underwear. Your ass presses against the edge of the bed and you feel his erection against your thigh. You moan carelessly, tugging at his hair, and he exhales into you, the line between pleasure and pain thin and delicate as he rushes to do what he’s afraid Dustin will get to first if he doesn’t.

Dustin hangs up the phone and looks at the two of you on the bed, a surge of desire filling him as he watches. You’ve got your legs open and Dieter’s got his hands down your underwear and he can see it all from this angle. You’re making delicious, breathy moans and Dieter’s arm muscles flex as he works them out of you. There’s a wet spot on your underwear and he wants nothing more than for Dieter to take them off so he can see more of you.

He watches a while longer, captivated by what makes you tick and what kind of a lover Dieter is. It's kinda like hotel porn that he’s had on repeat the past few days, but live. Before he can get out the request for Dieter to take your underwear off, or wait for the inevitability of it, there’s a knock on the door. He rushes to answer it, holding the door open only enough to take the glasses and the bottle opener. He mumbles a quick thanks before shutting the door on the confused worker.

Dieter enters you with a thick finger and you let out a loud uninhibited moan around his kiss. As Dustin attempts to open the wine he smiles, thinking of the young man who was just outside the door. He likes that you aren’t afraid; he’s always found that attractive in women.

“Here,” he says, pouring the pinkish liquid into three separate glasses. Neither of you look at him, so he repeats it again, this time with more command in his tone. You look so thoroughly kissed when you look up, red lipped and swollen, that it makes him ache, and Dieter’s wild haired annoyance is charming in its own way. He hands you both a glass and you take it with a shy smile. Dieter is less pleased, but takes it anyway with a soft ‘Thanks.’

Dustin watches as Dieter wipes your slick from his fingers with a pang of envy, swallowing down the wine. This isn’t something he’s made a habit of doing often— watching people fuck, threesomes — but he had felt that it wouldn’t have been right to do without Dieter. Truthfully, he had had every intention of going to your room by himself before he had peered into Dieter’s open door. The sight of him sitting there, staring up at the ceiling like he had been doing, inspired sympathy. He hadn’t been entirely truthful about that with Dieter, but what he’s learned over the years about sex is that some little white lies must be told sometimes.

A part of him feels guilty, knowing his own ex-wife lies somewhere in this hotel, probably brewing in her own anger. But he’s leaving her alone. That’s what she asked of him, isn’t it?

“So, any rules?” he asks, abandoning this train of thought before it crashes.

Dieter unwraps himself from you, sitting on the edge of the bed like you are, and shrugs his shoulders. You both look at each other. Dustin feels like an outsider, intruding on something too big and personal, but he doesn’t mind. A bit of self-flagellation mixed in with pleasure was always how he did his sex best, and there’s nothing quite like sleeping with two people very much in love during a pandemic.

“Dieter said you’ve never done this before,” he says, looking at you. “Is that true?”

You nod your head. “What do you mean by ‘rules?’”

“Well, I guess it’s a bit different because no one is with anyone here, but sometimes there will be requests people make to ensure no one gets their feelings hurt. For instance, you might not want me to cum inside of you or enter you at all. They’re for safety too—consent, boundaries.”

“I see.” You look down at your glass of wine, thinking. “I don’t really have any rules. Maybe just use condoms.”

“Are you sure?” Dieter whispers, tugging at your shirt sleeve. He leans in closer, says something Dustin can’t hear. You shake your head. “No, it’s fine. I don’t care if you do that,” you tell him. He seems surprised by your answer.

Dustin can’t help himself. “What’d you ask?”

Dieter shrugs his shoulders. “Just about how she feels about us.”

“Do you have any rules?” he asks.

“Don’t cum in her first.”

You look at Dieter quizzically and all he provides is a shrug that says nothing. Dustin nods his head. “That seems easy enough: condoms, don’t cum first.” He swallows down the rest of his wine and sets the glass aside.

You twirl the liquid around in your own glass, smiling faintly. “I can’t believe I’m gonna do this,” you say.

“Me either,��� Dieter replies. He sits his glass, half finished, on the nightstand.

“I’m feeling high,” is your next sentence. Dieter seems to grimace.

“You’re in the wrong state of mind,” he tells you.

You shake your head. “No. I made up my mind before I got high. I want to be fucked,” you tell him, voice plain and even. “If you don’t want to fuck me, I’m sure I’ll be okay with just him.”

Dieter shakes his head adamantly, cheeks beginning to red. “I—I do want to. I always want to. I just want to make sure you’re not doing something you’re going to regret later.”

With a smile, you tell him teasingly, “I won’t regret it later. Not if you do it right.” You offer him a teasing wink that draws out his dimple. He leans forward and presses a chaste kiss on your lips, too romantic and sweet to be good for your soul.

You decide then that this will have to be less Dieter focused if you want to last. “Lay on the bed,” you say to him. He nods his head, prying off his house shoes. You look over to Dustin, who stands awkwardly at the head of the bed. He smiles again with that charming Hollywood grin that age hasn’t dimmed in the slightest, and you grin back. “I want to kiss you again,” you tell him directly.

“That can be arranged,” he says, dipping onto the bed.

Dieter lies back against the heap of pillows at the headboard, his knees spread apart to make a spot for you. Dustin guides you there slowly, his body pressing into yours until there’s nowhere left to go but into Dieter. He kisses you deeply, hands strong and warm and unfamiliar in an entirely exciting way as they bunch up the fabric of your sleep shirt and expand over your skin.

Dieter doesn’t touch you, even though he badly wants to. Part of it is heartbreak and disbelief, and the other part is erotic fascination—watching you come apart like this, at another angle, is undeniably doing something to him. You are so pliable under Dustin, so easy for him, like you’ve waited your entire life to be like this. Maybe you have. Maybe he never paid enough attention—maybe in all your thousand little, subtle ways you had once alluded that you’d like to be this way. Maybe if he hadn’t been such a prick, he could’ve made more rules, one like ‘Don’t enter her at all’ and ‘Don’t kiss him like that because I know once upon a time you kissed me like that and I screwed it up, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry I couldn’t be a better husband. I’ll be a better friend, just don’t kiss him like that.’

But then again maybe not. That’s a mouthful and you’re high and he’s high. Maybe it would be just like this. It’s just that he loves you. It’s an odd kind of love, but it’s real. Dustin has his tongue down your throat, his exploratory fingers beneath the fabric of a sleep shirt, but Dieter loves you. The fool.

Blissfully you are unaware of the pity party Dieter throws for himself behind you. He is a body, a springboard for desire and heat, as you surrender yourself to lust the way you never really have before. You do draw up some comparisons, unable to help yourself.

Dustin is grittier, all command and surrender. He is an electric taste of the illicit, some faraway fantasy made palpable. Dieter is your ground zero, vivid and stormy. He is what yesterday was. You read somewhere once that when you have a child with a man, their genes have the ability to change your own. Though you and Dieter have no children, you feel like something irrevocable like that happened — that you carry a part of him in your genetic makeup. It doesn’t make Dustin worse for it. In fact, it makes him better, an exotic vaccine into your very tired bloodstream. You deserve it. You deserve it so much, and you practically beg for it, mewling as Dustin kisses his way down.

“I bet you taste like heaven,” he mumbles warmly into your skin, licking a teasing strip over your midriff. You watch, mouth agape, heart beating wildly in your chest. Dieter tilts your chin up, directing your attention towards him, feeling impossibly greedy now. He kisses you languidly, tonguing lolling gently against yours, making it lasts forever. Your mind is in a haze, the slow, sensual turn of your tongues lighting a fire in your belly as Dustin uses his own on you. He trails lower and lower, warm and wet, fingers drawing down your underwear and then—

“Fuck,” you say, gasping out the word. You surprise yourself. Dieter captures the word in his mouth and groans in soft appreciation. You glance down your body, your knees hanging loosely over Dustin’s shoulders, watching his warm tongue pressing against your clit. It’s a sight to behold, the way his pink tongue flattens over you. His large hands grip onto your legs, holding you apart as your back presses into Dieter’s front. You feel his semi-erection nudge into your back.

Dustin spends his time with you, teasing you lightly with his tongue at first, learning the careful intricacies of your body. As you run your hands through his unruly bed hair, the tip of his tongue dips into your opening experimentally. He looks up to you, blue-green eyes searching for approval. You buck against his face, desperate, full of want and drugs and something indescribable but undeniably exciting. Ambition. Want. Joy. You used to masturbate to this man. His nose grazes against your clit and he laughs as you struggle. It is warm and bubbly, and you feel it all the way down to your bones.

You tug his hair so hard that he sends another noise vibrating through you: a low, half pained, half aroused groan.

Dustin brings his mouth back to your clit, grazes it gently with his teeth. “Oh,” you say, your head drawing backward, falling into Dieter’s shoulder. He watches you, his dark eyes fixed. He presses his lips onto yours like time hasn’t changed anything. You bask in it, give yourself over to the fantasy with the ease he’s offering it—you kiss like lovers, familiar and intimate, an unformidable duo in sex where you weren’t in marriage.

Dieter doesn’t leave your lips as he says, “I never got to see this sort of thing from this point of view. You’re so goddamn pretty.”

His hands tease up your sides, fingers drawing closer to your chest. “Is he making you soaked? Just like I used to?” he asks, his voice a low drawl. You arch up, bringing your lips up to his. He slots his mouth over yours, pressing into you roughly as his fingers find a pebbled nipple through the cloth of your night shirt. As he scraps over the top of it with the pad of his thumb, you draw your eyes closed. The heady scent of Dieter surrounding you mixed with the intoxicating feel of Dustin pressed against your cunt is almost too much to bear. Almost. You moan against Dieter’s lips again as Dustin’s tongue works you, and Dieter smiles, nodding. “Oh baby, he’s gonna be like me. A pitiful, helpless fool for you. Aren’t you?” he says, looking down the valley of your body to the other man.

Dustin grunts wordlessly against you and your hips fail you again, pressing up into the vibration. Sensing this isn’t the end of lack of control, Dustin presses a hand against them, pinning you down. As he licks you open, spreads your folds with the warmth of his eager tongue, you feel on fire, the sensation reaching every part of your body. He’s good at that. He’s lapping and lapping, his strong nose meeting your clit at just the right time each time he comes up.

“He’s so fucking good,” you say helplessly, uncaring of who hears. The drugs make you uninhibited, looser. You meet Dustin’s eyes as he takes your clit into his mouth again. He is sucking lightly and you try to roll your hips into him, but he presses down, a silent no. “Fuck, you’re so—good at that. Oh my god.”

Dieter pinches your nipple between his fingers, humming softly at the sight before him. “You’re gonna make me jealous, baby.”

Dustin’s mouth grows more focused, intent. You feel your orgasm drawing up, coming closer and closer. You open your eyes, blown wide with desire, and focus on Dieter. He kisses you softly again, bringing his hand up to your other breast. Dustin sucks your clit into his mouth, his fingers digging into your soft flesh, and your hardened nipple scraps against the warmth of Dieter’s palm. It's all so right. You cum then, toes curling into the sheets, body going rigid beneath the touch of them both. Dustin doesn’t stop; he laps up your want greedily and Dieter draws up his head to watch. His eyes darken, full of desire and what you assume is a begrudging respect.

After you’ve ridden out your orgasm on Dustin, Dieter huffs out a soft laugh. “He wants to fuck you,” he tells you, thumb swiping affectionately across your cheek. Dustin, unable to let that one go, presses a kiss to your inner thigh and muffles a laugh against your skin.

“Bravo, you’re so jealous it’s making you stupid. She knows that,” he says, nuzzling his face against your inner thigh. “Of course she knows that.”

“M’not jealous,” Dieter denies evenly. When he looks down at you, brown eyes too kind, you half believe him.

You break the eye contact and smile appreciatively down at the man between your legs. A finger you’d locked in his hair now swipes across the bottom of his shiny lips. He takes it into his mouth, wetting the pad, and you say, “You aren’t a very good team. I think it’s important to be a good team.”

Dieter places a hand on your arm, more of a phantom touch than a grip, but you know it’s a stroke of possessiveness. You glance back up at him, cupping his cheek in your palm. “Dieter likes men,” you tell Dustin, not looking away from Dieter. “He’s not playing nice now and I think it’s a shame because I bet you taste just like me right now. And I know—“ your gaze drops down to Dustin, your voice velvet “—how much this dearest ex-husband of mine likes the taste of me. Have you ever kissed another man, Dustin?”

Dustin bites at your bait, smirk growing wide as his body stalking up yours. “Of course. I looked like a God in the ‘90s. Everyone wanted me and I wanted everyone,” he jokes, his warm hands flattening against your torso. His legs rest behind your thighs as he sits upwards, and you can see the tent of his erection against his sleep shorts. The black of them does little to conceal the full outline, and you thrill at the idea that he’s probably not wearing any underwear beneath the fabric.

You’re not one for getting starstruck - not anymore, anyway, a Los Angeles resident for years and the ex-wife of a star - but the fact that you used to masturbate to this man in front of you is something you still can’t shake. It occupies your mind, the way you had rewinded scenes from his raunchy, made for tv erotica over and over. Even now, many years later, you can still picture it: his younger frame pressed behind a blond woman, fucking into her in haste, his hands all over her and his thrusts rough. It was incredible to you back then, placed in some seedy location like an alley. Public and animalistic—the stuff of paperback romance novels. You remember the way he tugged her shirt upwards, how in the heat of the moment he grasped at any part of her he could get. A black bra and a long skirt, the bra pushed askew, going higher and higher with each thrust, and the skirt gripped onto, used for leverage as he pushed into her from behind. The VHS that hosted the scene had been passed from friend to friend in your college days, until someone’s VCR had eaten it. You feel a bit excited to know you’ve got the real thing right here. You think about telling him.

But it’s not about you, not now; it’s about Dieter. You widen your legs, make room for the ‘90s heart throb to slip between your body and come closer to the man you’ve dedicated your life to. In this moment you can admit as much. Dieter’s got his cock pressed against your back, and you know he would do anything - anything - for you if you’d just ask. His love burns like a million suns and you’ll be Icarus in every lifetime. You fool. Kiss another man hard and seek penance in his presence behind you.

Dieter stiffens as Dustin presses closer and closer to him. You shift to accommodate them, moving your body up, guiding Dieter along. He holds you close like a shield but doesn’t protest when Dustin’s lips press into his.

Dustin tastes of earthy vineyards and you—like sweetened strawberry wine and the familiar palette of tangy and acidic that’s blessed Dieter’s tongue many times over. That’s it, he thinks with a smile against Dustin’s generous lips. That’s how you taste. He savors it like a wine connoisseur does his wine, running it over his tongue and thinking too long about how to describe it. It is so utterly you, it makes him yearn for another life.

He plunges his tongue so deeply into Dustin’s mouth, it threatens to gag them both. But it doesn’t. They’ve both got their party tricks, after all. Dieter’s kiss grows hungry and suddenly there’s no space between any of you. You are a perfectly molded puzzle, fingers on skin, in hair, tongues swiping against lips and chests, and there are deep guttural moans exposing what the erections do well to show.

You know Dieter wants this, can feel his evident excitement press into your back. You happily welcome the warmth of Dustin’s firm body pressing impossibly close to yours. Dieter wets his bottom lip and squeezes you reassuringly, a habit from other life slipping into this new one.

You alternate kissing one another, creating a new taste on your warm, eager tongues. It is perfect. Dustin’s hands gingerly fumble over your chest, not focused or intent but curious, and Dieter’s allow it. The possessiveness has translated into something entirely more agreeable, and these men work together like lovers.

Your fingers grip at Dustin’s muscular shoulders, trail lower and lower over the slope of his chest down to the dip above his shorts. The path is slow and arduous to your lust riddled brain. He grunts against your collarbone, his hot breath fanning over you, and you go lower still, taking the shorts with you.

Dieter’s eyes trail the same place yours do, his chin tucked into your neck; you share the same view of Dustin: the red weeping head of his cock as it bops against his toned stomach, eager to be touched and licked and surrounded. Dustin sighs hotly against you as you press against him - against it - and Dieter swipes his tongue behind your ear. It is heaven, the way Dieter and Dustin feel against you, combined like this. You want them both. You need them.

You wrap your hands in Dieter’s curls, let him support your body as it rubs frantically over Dustin’s. Dieter peppers kisses alongside your neck and whispers, “God, you’re so fucking hot. God, I was so fucking lucky—“

The rest of it is lost against the shell of your earlobe. Some things - even the kindest, most genuine things - are better left unsaid.

Dustin emits soft, urgent moans as his cock catches between your bodies. The tempo of your shared thrusts grows quick, more focused, and he is close, on the very brink of letting go. You knit your brows, watch curiously and excitedly as he draws closer. You think of it: A hot spurt, just for you. Dieter holds up your sleep shirt, seeming to expect the same.

But then Dustin stops, his thick fingers rough and tight against your skin as he stills your movements. In the morning you’ll be bruised, a thought that thrills you. “Not yet,” is what he says in explanation, leaning his forehead against yours.

Dieter laughs softly, some terrible joke about bad endurance dying before it rises to be heard. He’s on his best behavior. Dustin tastes of you, of him, and you’re all naked and you’re so happy, so pliant. You lean against him like he’s someone you can lean on, and he swallows the serenity of that thought silently. Dieter is a half guilt, a perpetual bleeding heart, and you are his salvation. He knows it doesn’t work like that, can’t, but sex is not about what is real and logical. That’s why you were always so fucking good at it; it was beyond the both of you, and somehow a language you spoke best together.

He should feel worse about Dustin. Perhaps it’s because you want it so bad, or maybe it’s because he’s so horny, but the inclusion of him feels less intrusive than before. This is not your marriage bed - it’s been lost to the cruel seas of time - but it feels like a union, and Dustin plays a curious part. Not the voyeuristic onlooker, but the active participant, his glistening cock hot and heavy against your beautiful stomach. It should make Dieter sick. It did, thirty minutes ago. But now it makes him hard, wets his mouth. The bastard is good looking.

What can he say - you have always had good taste.

You turn your head and lick into Dieter’s mouth, redirecting your attention. He turns you between their bodies, pressing you into him as he kisses you feverishly. Dustin assists him, holding you against his body like Dieter had been doing before, only upwards. Dieter draws back and lifts the cotton sleep shirt over your head. He takes advantage like Dustin hadn’t been smart enough to, wetting your nipple with his warm mouth and tweaking the other between his fingers. You squirm, pressing your hot cunt against his stomach. He feels too clothed suddenly, having been denied contact because layers. You help him take off his shirt and Dustin helps you take off his pants. You waste no time wrapping your hot hand around him and tugging loosely.

His mouth finds your nipple again and you wrap your fingers into his unruly hair, jerking him off slowly as he kisses and sucks at your bare chest. He knows you’re already dripping, seen it on Dustin’s glossy lips when he got done with you, but this is his body remembering you and he can't stop. He remembers the way you got when he licked at you like you were the last scraps of his final meal on earth. How desperate and needy you became, just as desperate and needy as him. His hand travels down your stomach, straight down to your cunt, and he palms the wet heat of you into his hand. Dieter relishes the way you gasp into his mouth as the heel of his hand finds your clit, a smirk on his lips and a sentence like, “That’s it, baby,” coming out against you.

He fingers your entrance teasingly and finds you devastatingly wet. This is heaven, he thinks, the wet stickiness of you on the pad of his finger and your hot breath on his lips. You dig your nails into his shoulder, shut your eyes against the sensation of one of his fingers entering you. Dieter is ground zero. In your Garden of Eden, Dieter was there, at once Adam and the serpent. This is the apple. How delicious it is to be fucked, how perfectly human. Of course they’d turn on God for this. Cover up with leaves and be terrified of the whole earth later. Bleed and cry. Divorce. Whatever. This is worth turning back on perfection for. Poor Eve. Poor you.

You rub yourself against his hand and Dustin takes one of your breasts into his hand, watching. Dieter is so focused on the squelch of your juices and the way his finger - fingers now, two, and you stretch so perfectly for him - enters you that he doesn’t even mind. You’re no pissing contest, he sees that now—you're the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He swallows your moans and tries his best not to cum. Your grasp on his cock is so loose and it’d be so embarrassing to cum on your stomach when the tugs are nothing, and besides this is about you. So he focuses on trying not to.

“Condom,” you mutter, your lips landing on the side of Dieter’s mouth. Dieter nods his head but doesn’t pull back from you. He watches, enchanted, as your hips move against his hand. He can feel your orgasm build in the way you clench around his fingers, the penultimate pressure too much to bear. When you come, its with a shudder, your body tight and rigid above his as you ride it out. Dieter is so high and so in love with you, and he’s so sick about it that all he can do is laugh earnestly, even though what he wants is to ask you to marry him again.

Dustin is touching you all over with his hands, palming your perfect breasts, and you’re arching farther and farther back. Dieter can hardly bear the sight—not because of the jealousy—but because he’s deathly afraid this is it for him. You’re the best thing he’s ever had, and he knows he can’t think that way. You had a good run—you’re great friends now—but God, you married him in Vegas and you used to sketch his nose with careful affection onto canvases you kept for yourself. Who’s gonna sit in your studio now? Who’s gonna take up space in your heart, make you smile over the canvas as you work? He would weep if you didn’t look so pretty and sated, leaning into Dustin the way you are.

He kisses you hard on the mouth just to get rid of the thoughts, and then he kisses Dustin too, grabbing roughly at the back of his hair the way he hasn’t ever with you. It’s not kind, but Dustin doesn’t seem to mind; he moans gruffly, absorbing nothing but the desire behind it.

Your hands explore Dieter’s exposed skin as they kiss, warm and gentle, unconsciously fingering the scar he got as a child. You know the map of this body. When his hard cock bops against his stomach you take it in your hand again. Before he has time to think, you put him in your mouth.

“Fuck,” he mumbles against Dustin’s lips. They stop kissing, looking between them at the sight of you. Dustin is so considerate, so much better than Dieter has ever been. He moves aside your hair, kisses against the curve of your spine. All Dieter can do is think about not cumming. He feels bad about this, wishes he could gather enough strength to think about your hair and things like that. But your mouth is warm and you take him in with expertise, bobbing in a rhythm he wouldn't dare break. Up, down, the tip of your tongue running alongside a vein, back up again. He’ll cum like this. You look up at him through your eyelashes and he touches the top of your head with unspeakable tenderness. Cum, you beckon, but he won’t. Can’t.

Where is that goddamn condom? How can he make this last forever?

He pulls back from your lips smiling an apologetic grin when you at him, surprised. You seem to understand, a devilish little smirk playing across your glossy lips. He wants to kiss you, but even that feels dangerous right now. He thumbs your lips instead.

“Condoms,” he tells you softly. You nod your head.

“In my bag.” You point over to the corner of the room. Dieter pads off to get them.

Dustin’s hands sneak between your thighs and you sigh when he finds your entrance, the tip of a finger rubbing the spot Dieter abandoned. You’re so wet and you want it so badly. He presses his lips against your shoulder and you feel the heat of his breath against your goose pimpled flesh. As you loll your head against him, he slides a finger in. You scratch the back of his head and nod frantically.

“You’re so tight.” He nips your skin and then licks at you with a desperation you’ve only experienced in Dieter. You like being wanted this badly. You lift your hips and ride his finger, squeezing around him. So tight, right. He laughs and you feel that too. “You like being talked dirty to, don’t you? You’re being so good, riding my finger like this. I can’t wait to fuck you. To feel you around my cock like this. And I bet he’s thinking that too.”

You both look over to Dieter as he unwraps a found foil and takes out the condom. You sigh; Dustin’s thumb finds your swollen clit. “We’ve got to make him cum in you, but I don’t think you’ll find that hard. He wants you so bad. Look—“ You feel Dustin’s grin already across your back. “He’s so fucking hard for you. Just as hard as me.”

Dieter strokes himself through the protective sleeve as he watches the two of you. You feel the familiar sensation of heat spreading low in your belly. When Dustin dares to enter another finger into you, you gasp, feeling full and stretched and yet not full enough. He spreads his fingers inside you, preparing you. You tug at his hair and make eye contact with Dieter.

He smiles lopsidedly, suddenly boyish and more handsome than he’s ever been. You think he looks happy for you—so pleased that you’re pleased, with a glint in his eye. Maybe it’s the drugs. You don’t know. Maybe he is happy that you’re happy. He was always better at saying he loved you than he was at showing it, but you suspect that this is his showing you. Love. Maybe it spills over in divorce, just another cruel thing you’ve got to cope with.

When Dieter comes back, he presses a condom into Dustin’s thigh. You are at the edge of another orgasm, everything perfectly in place — the sensation of Dustin’s thumb, the way his breath hits your skin, the idea that Dieter is watching you—but he denies you it, interrupting. You go to protest, whine, but he doesn’t give you a chance.

Dustin’s fingers are still in you, on you, when Dieter leans down and presses his tongue flat against your clit, greedy with lust. He licks at you around Dustin’s fingers and it feels like too much. They seem to make an agreement, working you at the same time. You cum quickly and this one seems to go on for eternity. You squeeze Dieter’s shoulder. The other condom package falls loosely onto the bed as Dustin uses his hand to keep you steady, your knees weak from the pleasure.

You tug at Dieter’s hair to make him stop. Dustin seems to know instinctively, leaving you feeling empty when he takes his fingers away. His slick covered fingers rest on your hips as you tell them both, breathlessly, “I can’t do another one. It’s too much.”

Dieter shakes his head in protest but Dustin takes the information in stride. He’s too good at this, moves through the motions with ease, improvising quickly. He extends his slicked fingers to Dieter. Dieter, who has been so focused on you, looks at them quizzically, unsure of what they mean. Then he seems to get it, hard features smoothing out in realization.

He looks at Dustin, and it’s not like with you. He's focused, not icy or angry but so intent. It’s not a loveless gaze, per se, but it is devoid of love; filled not with something warm but something hot.

Dustin’s cock presses into the small of your back. As Dieter’s mouth wraps around his fingers, you feel a warm bead of pre-cum drip onto your skin. You bite at your lip. You’ve never seen Dieter with men before, and this new side of him excites you—like unlocking a new door in a house you’ve had for ages. He puts on a show for you, bobbing like you did on him. Dustin’s fingers seem to be an extension of yourself. You shudder as Dieter tongues along them, and Dustin rubs himself helplessly against your backside.

“I want to see what you’re like with men,” you say to Dieter, your voice barely a whisper. But Dieter hears you and his eyebrows perk in interest. This is a long unanswered question to something you’ve never been brave enough to ask. You’ve always known that he’s been interested in men — that he’s had sex with them — but you’ve never really questioned outright about what it was like. It felt equal parts too personal and hurtful; you didn’t want to know what it was like with other people before you. But everything seems different tonight. You want to know badly, like he’s got secrets that could be your salvation hidden in him.

You slip from between them, lying against the pillows. Before filling the space, Dieter looks over at you. His brown eyes implore you for a sign and you nod your head.

He’d asked you earlier, when Dustin asked about rules, if you’d be alright with them touching each other, maybe even entering one another. You hadn’t expected it to get to that, so it had been easy to say you didn’t mind. In fact, you had figured Dieter only said it as a means to scare you away from the idea. And now that the notion is not only on the horizon, but a reality, it comes just as easy to say yes—maybe even more so.

He stalls, hesitating, so you nod again, laughing. He smiles. Your ex-husband is a startlingly beautiful man like this, looking so openly vulnerable. He’s physically and emotionally naked and you’ve waited decades for it.

Dieter and Dustin kiss each other like men do, aggressive and dominating, neither willing to lose the good fight just yet. You feel your interest piqued, watching the way their fingers touch each other. How they tug and grip, search for purchase all over. Dieter is much rougher with Dustin than he’s ever chanced to be with you, with bruising kisses and bruising touches. When he grabs the man’s cock, it is with an ugly dedication, fast dry and quick tugs. Dustin hisses the first time but doesn’t protest. In fact, he thrusts his hips unashamedly into Dieter’s closed fist, licking into his mouth with a degree of delight. They tug at the back of each other’s heads of hair and eventually Dieter gives way, falling back to allow Dustin to mount him.

Dustin searches for the condom on the bed, his chest rising and falling heavily in an attempt to grasp at long denied air. You watch through heavy lids as he slides the latex onto himself. He’s circumcised, pink and swollen at the tip. Drips of pre-cum have made him all glossy and you bite your lip watching him struggle to line himself up. When he gets the latex down to his base, he smiles a satisfied smirk. He doesn’t look at you. If he notices you staring, he doesn’t mind at all. This is his favorite play, and he’s an actor after all.

Dieter’s knees knock apart to accommodate his frame—a body you’ve begun to notice with quiet admiration in your desire. He’s broad, much broader than he’d been in his youth, and he’s got muscle all over now, whereas before he’d been lean and lanky. He’s hard and tight and as he begins to rub himself against Dieter, you’re taken with the way his skin stretches over the plains of his back, his arms, his stomach. Dustin is in impeccable shape, perhaps one of the only men who can claim he’s doing better now than he was in his youth. Gone is the boyishness, replaced with a heady, sure masculinity.

Dieter seems to relinquish his fight happily now, soft growls emitting from his lips. Dustin presses down into him, and while most of what they’re doing is obscured by Dieter’s legs, you can imagine it well enough: the steady, erratic thrusts of Dustin’s cock rubbing against Dieter’s. There’s a sheen of sweat on them both and Dustin buries his head in Dieter’s neck. He licks at the places you had once, and it is nothing but erotic little huffs from them both.

“You’re…” Dustin begins, but falters off. He lifts himself up, repositions, bracketing Dieter’s head between his strong arms. Dieter’s eyes are pressed closed, his dark features etched with pleasure. All they do for a while is rub against each other. You feel like an intruder, like something stopping them from getting where they need to be. Maybe you are.

You dare to speak: “Aren’t you going to touch each other?”

Dieter looks startled. He’s red in the cheeks, the exertion of their movements and the heat of his desire making him flush. He taps Dustin on the arm, making the steady roll of his hips slow until suddenly it’s nothing. It’s all quiet for the first time in minutes.

They both look at you with intent eyes. But Dieter is the first to take charge. “You should fuck her,” he tells Dustin. Dieter looks at you, questioning.

“But—“ you protest. Dieter shakes his head.

“It’s okay,” he says. “Later.”

Dustin has no qualms about the interchanging of you and Dieter. You notice that he's notably gentler with you than he was with him, though. He crawls to you, kisses you chastely—as if testing the waters. There’s nothing necessarily erratic or rough about what he does to you. He looks between your spread legs and fingers at your entrance once more, circling the area teasingly. You groan in anticipation and his head falls to your chest. He takes a taut nipple into his mouth as he plunges his fingers inside of you, pushing them against your front wall. As you sigh heavily, he moves his wet mouth to the other nipple.

You turn your head, catch Dieter’s fixed gaze. He reaches out his hand and you lace your fingers together. He’s touching himself through his condom, stroking softly. You want to devour him.

Dustin takes his fingers from you, and you look back at him. Before you can plead for more he says, “I’m gonna enter you now.” You nod, wordless.

He gathers the slick from his fingers and coats his latex covered cock with it. As you squeeze Dieter’s hand, Dustin lines himself to your entrance. His kiss is soft, barely a kiss at all, and he enters you, inch by careful inch. He feels so overwhelmingly right, snug, puncturing something decidedly primal inside of you when he bottoms out.

“Oh, fuck,” you groan hotly against his shoulder. He manages a small laugh, running his lips against your cheek. “Go hard,” you ask. He hasn’t moved yet, stays still inside of you. You think of the way he was with Dieter.

“I don’t know if I can. I think I’ll…” He swallows. “I know I’ll cum.”

“Please,” you beg. You dig crescent shaped nail marks into ass and he smiles teasingly, running his warm tongue against your sensitive skin. He presses so intimately into you, your nipples scrap against his chest. It feels so good. Everything does.

“He said no,” he answers, looking up to meet your eyes.

“He’ll give me anything I want,” you say. Dieter’s fingers leave yours then, and you look over. You think you’ve made him mad but he’s only repositioning himself, coming closer to your bodies. He doesn’t say anything.

Some things are so true they don’t need to be confirmed. They just are. The sky is blue and people die, and Dieter is a man who will give you everything because he was once a man who gave you nothing.

“Oh, I’m sure,” Dustin mumbles, finally drawing back. You nod your head, encouraging, but he doesn’t go harder. He moves in the same way he did before, experimental and slow. When you look at him, imploring silently, he shakes his head. “But a rule is a rule, baby. ‘Sides, I think he’s making me get you ready. Your husband is a bit of a pervert. He’s touching himself, watching me stretch you open with my cock.” Dustin presses his lips into yours. Against you, he mumbles, “Did ya know he likes to watch? Bet he likes to hear too. You—“ Dustin pushes back into you, stopping himself, and the squelch of your juices adds to the effect. He smirks. “—You’ll get fucked. Just not by me. Not yet. Maybe I’ll fuck him while he fucks you. Maybe we’ll do it..” he grunts, bottoming out again, “We’ll do you together. You’re tight as hell, but I know we can get you wide. Couldn’t we?”

You feel Dieter’s fingers but can’t move your eyes away from Dustin’s. They’re greener like this, up close. Dieter trails a line over your body, and then up to Dustin’s, with a lone finger. Dustin turns to look at him and he smiles, nodding. They seem to work without words.

Dustin reaches down to grip the condom as he pulls out of you. You look over at Dieter, half angry and half amused that he could interrupt. You realize what they’re doing almost immediately. Dieter holds open your legs by pressing his palm against one of your knees, and Dustin shuffles, moving back to let Dieter take his place.

His cock probes against your entrance and he smiles down at you like a fool. “Hey,” he tells you evenly, half sober. You ache for him. You clench around nothing as he licks into your mouth.

“Hey,” you respond, overcome. Your fingers wrap around his arms and you notice that he’s got more muscle than before too.

“You want to be fucked?” Although he attempts to make this a question, it is more of a statement. You nod along anyway. He kisses you hard, rough like with Dustin, and he nearly enters you as he rubs himself greedily against your naked warmth, wetting himself with your slick.

“Yes. Hard, like you do with him,” you tell him. He smiles against your lips. You take his cock in your hand, so much more sure with him than anyone, and he slides into you. It feels like homecoming, wet and warm and familiar, your fingers digging into his skin and the smell of sex in the air. He does what you ask, his thrusts sharp, his hips snapping against your hips.

“Dieter,” you pant out, nodding your head. He kisses the side of your mouth sloppily and you smile the best you can. Where Dustin felt right, Dieter feels perfect. You feel like you touch the hem of eternity as he plunges into you with the intensity you requested, uninhibited and giving in the roughness.

He repositions you both in one expert movement, moving to his knees, pushing your hips farther up. This makes you let out a startled gasp; he hits you far deeper like this, his thumbs digging into the flesh on your hips with bruising intensity. You can’t kiss from this position, but it doesn’t matter. He fucks you. Really fucks you.

You see Dustin in the hazy peripheral. Lolling your head to the side, you focus on him. He stands at the side of the bed, smiles at you when you catch his eyes. With his cock standing out in front of him like that, he looks a bit unserious. If you weren’t so full of Dieter, perhaps you’d be amused by this. He doesn’t even touch himself. This makes you frown.

“D—Dieter,” you stammer out.

“Huh?” he grunts.

“Dustin.”

“Mm, what—what about him?”

“Let him fuck me too. Please.”

Dieter shakes his head. “No, you’re mine right now. You’re—“ he snaps into you roughly, the bed creaking. “I’ll suck him off. Or maybe—“ Dieter grunts again, “Maybe he’ll be smart and he’ll get behind me. And maybe he’ll—“ his head drops to your neck, and your head the next part through mumbles. “Maybe he’ll rub against me like he was doing before. But it doesn’t matter right now. Just think about you. It’s all for you.”

You close your eyes, nodding. That sounds fine. Great. Dieter’s finger gazes at your clit and you nod, your hand reaching out to hold his wrist. You always liked to feel the way his forearm moved as he did this to you.

“Cum for me and I’ll cum for you,” he says, and you feel it begin, the stirrings of another orgasm. You think of him, of the way he punctures his thrusts with grunts, how good he feels inside of you, bottoming out like this with measured fury. You like how rough he’s being, like never before. You like this side of Dieter. You like that there is more of Dieter to know.

When you cum, you call out his name. He swallows it, pressing his lips to yours. “Fuck, you’re such a good girl for me. You’ve always been.” He fucks faster into you, his own release on the horizon. You squeeze around him once, twice, and that’s it; he’s filling the condom up and he’s gasping earnestly, amazed and so goddamn in love. He kisses you on the mouth and it’s so genuine. You kiss him back, smiling like a newlywed.

“Dustin,” you say against Dieter’s lips, after a moment. Your chests are both heaving and you're drenched in a thin layer of sweat. He presses his forehead against yours and you smile. “Let me take care of him,” you tell him.

Dieter rolls off of you, collapsing into bed with a soft groan and saying nothing. You take a moment to recuperate, breathing in and out, letting the bliss of this moment wash over you.

“Come here,” you say to Dustin, patting the open space of the bed beside you. He listens, the bed dipping beneath his weight. It takes a lot of effort on your part, but you rise to your knees. You guide him onto his back and he helps you straddle him. For a moment, you just sit there on top of him, looking at him.

“I used to masturbate to you,” you finally admit. This makes him grin. Beneath your cunt, his erection jumps a little.

“Thanks,” he says. His hand palms one of your breasts again. “You don’t have to do anything to me. I can finish myself off if you want.”

You shake your head, grinning. “Didn’t you hear me? I used to masturbate to you. This is a dream.”

Another hand comes up to cup your other breasts. “Are you sure you don't feel too sore? He fucked you pretty good.” You begin to glide your cunt alongside his prominent erection. He sucks in a swallow breath. “Guess that’s a no.”

“That’s a no,” you confirm.

“Just let her fuck you,” Dieter tells him quietly. You smile over at him but he doesn’t see it; he’s too busy watching the way you move your hips over Dustin. Even with a flaccid penis and in a state of post-coital peace, you manage to get to him.

You ride Dustin quickly, grabbing onto his strong shoulders as he tongues your alongside chest, finding your nipples. He groans, the sensation vibrating throughout your body as you follow the motion his hands set for you. A fast up and down, your back arching, taking him in completely and then pushing back so far he nearly falls out.

Admittedly he does most of the work, your legs wobbly and your body tired. But it feels good. God, does it feel good. You like this, being with two men back to back, each of them taking turns. Dustin generously tries to get you to cum again, his fingers sliding between your bodies, but you stop him.

“It’s too much. Just this,” you tell him. You grind down on him to make him feel better about it, and he hums sympathetically around a mouthful of your breast.

You ride him less enthusiastically the closer he gets, both of you too tired and worn. He stops aiding you so much, kissing anywhere he can access: your jaw, your neck, the side of your mouth. He lets your body fall forward into his. It’s a sort of lazy fucking that you do, meeting halfway to create the sharp thrusts that push him closer to climax.

“Cum in me,” you tell him, voice silky against his ear. He knows how tired you are, feels it too. He gathers up the last of both of your strengths, rutting up into you with intent. As he cums, you ride him, curious, taking all he can give. Dieter is too sensitive, can’t stand to move when he cums, but Dustin nods, moaning against you. When it’s over, you collapse into him, hugging his sweaty body. He laughs against your warm skin.

“Thank you,” he tells you softly, so only you can hear. You nod. You lie on him like that for a moment, listening to the beat of his heart. Dieter watches you, his expression unreadable. But he doesn’t look faraway.

You reach out to him with your fingers and he smiles, coming to.

Dustin helps you off of him and you fall between them, sated and spent. He slides off his condom and reaches across your body. “You want me to take yours?” he asks Dieter. Dieter, no longer feeling jealous but merely tired, nods. He hands the man his condom and Dustin pads off to the bathroom. Dieter and you watch this, amused.

“I kinda understand what you see in him now,” he confesses, smiling. He interlocks your fingers and you let him.

“Thank you,” you say, ignoring his comment. You look over at him.

He nods, sincere. “Of course. I assume I did it right?”

“You did it right.”

“And you don’t regret it?”

You shake your head. “I don’t seem to regret you. Even though sometimes it’d be better if I did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“I love you.”

You kiss him chastely, even though you know you shouldn’t. “I know,” you tell him softly. “I love you too.”

“Like a friend?”

“No.”

“Like a husband?” he asks, testing the waters. You laugh. Dustin comes back from the bathroom.

“No. Something more than all of that.”

“I can handle that.”

You nod your head. “Me too,” you tell him.

The bed dips from the weight of Dustin once more, and you roll over to your side, cuddling into him. He passes a warm rag to Dieter and he accepts it, cleaning himself. He goes to hand it to you, but you shake your head.

“I’ll take a shower in a little. When I can walk.”

This earns a laugh from them both. Dustin reaches an arm around you, drawing you closer to his body. Dieter, surprisingly, doesn’t mind this; he curls up behind you, too, wrapping an arm around your waist. You’re all so close, and it’s nice. He thinks maybe they might be something to this sharing after all.

“I liked that,” you say to no one in particular.

Dustin hums, fingering trailing over your arm. “Enough to do it again?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. I think the opportunity for this kind of thing only happens once in a lifetime, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know about that. This is Hollywood, and they love sequels,” Dieter adds, smiling.

“Yeah,” Dustin nods, “That’s true.”

You close your eyes, smiling faintly. “A sequel, then, maybe,” you say tiredly.

In the morning, you do not regret any of it.

—-

A YEAR LATER.

SUBJECT: THREE’S COMPANY, BUT ONLY SOMETIMES from: dustin.mulray@gmail.com

I was at an art show the other day and I saw a painting with your name on it. The guy in it looked a little familiar (they told me it was an old painting, from nearly a decade ago, before you were both famous. Cute). I bought it, of course. Not that I’m in the habit of buying paintings from people I’ve slept with, but it was for charity and it looked good and I’ve got a new apartment that I’ve got to fill, so I thought why not? It cost a lot (good for you!) and because of that they let me wrangle an email address from them to tell you what a brilliant job you did. You did great. Very Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton of you. Anyway, to the point: You weren’t at the premiere of the documentary with Dieter last month. He told me that it's because you don’t like that scene, and I don’t blame you. Neither do I. But I was wondering how you feel about commissioned paintings? And do you think that Dieter would like to come with you to deliver it if your opinion is positive? (He told me I had to ask you that myself, so I think he’d be happy to accompany you if the canvas is too big to carry by yourself). P.S. I’m asking you for sex–a sequel, as it were–but I really would like a painting, too. I’ll spend a lot (not for the sex, but the art. I guess for the sex too, if you’re into that). Love, D. Mulray.

—-

SUBJECT: HOPEFULLY NOT ROSEMARY’S BABY SITUATION to: david.bravo@gmail.com, dustin.mulray@gmail.com

Sometimes I commission art work for people I like and sometimes I make an exception for those I don’t if they pay enough. I’m sure you fall somewhere in those categories, Dustin. But I must warn you: I won’t do dick drawings. I might do a vagina one if the inspiration strikes. I must admit I’ve never had a man ask me for sex over email. Kind of thrilling, like a retro sext but without any of the sexy parts. I’ve attached Dieter to this email for obvious transparency reasons. He says he’d gladly help me carry your canvas (figuratively and literally). P.S. It will cost you. For tax purposes, I hope you’ll let ‘it’ be the art.

—

from: david.bravo@gmail.com to: you, dustin.mulray@gmail.com

Who said divorce couldn’t be sexy?

[userautumn]

You are always 100% right and valid btw. Because like buck and Tommy are broken up, but you also have several interviews released today where Ryan calls Buck and Eddie “brothers” and where Oliver explicitly says Eddie is straight so they will most likely continue to be just friends. So if it wasn’t for Buddie, what was the point in throwing away a relationship the audience was actually behind??

Yeah, this has always been my problem with the idea of Buck and Tommy breaking up and, now that it's happened, I can finally unload all my thoughts.

Listen, my Buddie mutuals are very assured that Buck and Eddie will get together and have this lush and beautiful arc where they settle into a relationship and feel out the kinks in their dynamic and really blend together, and I respect that. I would love to see that happen. But I don't have that same confidence. Don't get me wrong, I DO think Buck and Eddie will probably get together, I just don't think it's going to happen until the last episode of the last season in a way that's more reminiscent of Johnlock "canon" (for those who did not watch BBC Sherlock: John and Sherlock continued to live together and raise John's daughter, but this was revealed in a montage without ever actually seeing them get together, or confirm that they were in a romantic relationship) than anything.

Why? Well, because it's easier to tease your audience than it is to follow through.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think Tim is teasing the fandom in a malicious way, and—if nothing else—I know he is very aware of what these boys and the implication of their relationship means to people. 9-1-1 has always handled their relationship with a particular gravitas, and I don't see that changing now. But Tim has been writing Buck and Eddie for years. He knows what gets people going, he knows what this fandom likes to see, and what they'll read into. So why would he rush into making them "endgame," especially if he knows he already wants to take them in that direction? He has no incentive to make it happen Right Now because everyone will lap up what he puts out anyway.

And I get it, because I do love Buck and Eddie's relationship. I love the way they interact with each other and, yes, I will lap up any scene between them. But that's the part I find so draining too. I'm going to be honest, I've never liked a "will-they-won't-they" couple. As a personal preference, I've always liked to have a clear vision of a story's trajectory when I go into it. That's how I write, and that's what I gravitate toward in fiction. So the idea of going through any number of love interests until Buck and Eddie are "ready for each other" (so sick of that phrase. sob.) is literally... exhausting to me, and not in a fun way. Because this is a loop that could theoretically continue on, and on, and on, until whenever the powers that be decide enough is enough.

Sure, Eddie is happy and free now. Great. But he still doesn't know he's Queer. What happens when he does realize that? Does he need to date a guy first in order to be "ready" for Buck? Similarly (because their romantic arcs always run parallel to each other), when Buck fucks and sucks his way through Los Angeles, does he stumble upon a hot girl/guy and date her/him until Eddie's "ready" for him? How many times, exactly, am I going to sit through another love interest until they're on the same page after, by my count, three false starts? You know?

I'm obviously along for the ride. Always have been, always will be, and I fought too hard over the summer to maintain my love for these boys and their relationship to let it waste away now. But I desperately, desperately need Tim to give me something substantial that CLEARLY, and EXPLICITLY indicates IMMEDIATE strides toward ROMANTIC Buddie Canon. And I mean crystal clear. Not "building a thousand words of meta off a single line/moment" clear. Not "this look probably definitely means Eddie was thinking about ripping Buck's clothes off" clear. I mean, I want it so damn clear, a sixty-five year old grandpa with cataracts can see it.

Otherwise I'm just going to get really annoyed.

[lorenzozurzolocanruinmylife]

Until fate do us together pt.2 -Theo Nott x f.reader

t.w. Alcohol, vomit, light drugs

this is a bit more angsty hope you like it:)

Not a single word. That’s how much you got from all the consecutive lessons, you had been in a constant state of panic and you just blacked out during the rest of the day. You just felt so stupid.

You had spent the last five years in the shadow of your own imagination just so that for an act of pity you could be trapped in your personal nightmare.

Pansy told you that she’d pick you up at your dorm so that she could introduce you to all her friends in their common room.

You not only were jumping in the snake’s den, but you were agreeing to do it with a smile on your face. You were too apprehensive for you own sake, stupid hufflepuff behavior, stupid caring about others, stupid stupid stupid you.

You were now in your room with your head in your hands trying to go back to your safe place, but all you could see was Theo staring you down with an annoyed look on his face nearly disgusted. It looked like a prediction of what was bound to happen that night.

Was it too late to fake a stomach ache? Would Pansy come kill you if you did that? Probably. 

Your only way to calm down was now destroyed by your own actions, just great.

After 2 hours of pure hatred towards yourself you came to accept that you had to go to this fucking party. You stared at your wardrobe as if some magical dress could appear in a moment or the other, but even as a witch you lacked of this power, disappointing really. You picked out a black jean’s skirt and a white high neck top paired with some high heeled boots. It wasn’t much but it was the best you could come up with in such short notice. You made your roommates do the rest since they were good with hair and makeup, and also because you were completely paralyzed by fear. You never told them either of your infatuation, so you couldn’t even explain where it was coming from, you had completely cornered yourself in the worst possible situation your mind ever could have imagined. Round of applause please!

Precisely at midnight Pansy knocked on your door, and you wanted to cry, pull all of your hair out of your head and throw yourself out of the window along with all your hopes and dreams. You managed to open the door with a smile on your lips, one that didn’t reach your eyes whatsoever. “You look so pretty I may have just developed a new crush!” Pansy squealed while hugging you, making you blush and slightly boosting your self confidence that was by now 6 feet under. “You look beautiful too, not just that but you look like if ‘fumbled the bag’ was a person that would be you” she blowed you a kiss and winked, right after she took your hand dragging you along until the doors of hell: the dungeons, more precisely, the entrance of the slytherin common room.

Since you’ve had always tried to stay as far away as possible from Theo and any chance of meeting him, this was the very first time you’ve ever gotten this close to this infamous place, where everybody narrates of wild parties and even wilder people. You gulped. Turning to Pansy with your hand shaking and sweating into hers you let out a breathy and low “Can we have a drink first?” “I see you! You’re absolutely right, never go to a party without somewhat of a pregame” and just like that she pulled out of her tiny purse a big bottle of liquor, a green one. She took a swig and passed it to you after scrunching her face, that should have been a warning but you took it as a good sign so you started chugging the bottle until Pansy started laughing. “Someone’s thirsty huh?” “You can’t even begin to imagine”, and you had to admit that it did solve your nerves just a bit.

She opened the doors with the passcode and what unfolded behind your very eyes left you speechless. Hundreds of students dancing under this green light that was shining on them making them look as if the drops of sweat were sparkles on their skin. Everyone seemed to be having the time of their life, exactly in the place where they belonged. It was so chaotic but it all coexisted perfectly together…or you were just already drunk. “What do you think newbie?” “Shit” “You bet” she smiled taking back your hand and guiding you through the crowd, you were shamelessly looking at your surroundings until you returned to reality. She was bringing you towards your end, you had to stop this, you had to do something, anything! “Wait!” Pansy turned around looking at you confused and awaiting “Don’t you wanna go get some drinks first?” “Oh yeah let’s just get to the guys, say hi and we’ll go right after” you wanted to escape with all your heart but instead you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. 

“By the way in all this time I didn’t really get your name” she turned back again when you had arrived in front of the group, you opened back your eyes “I’m-“ “Y/N you made it!!!” “We thought you weren’t gonna come anymore, and you’re here with Pansy?! You guys know each other?” Mattheo and Enzo jumped up to greet you with two big smiles. “Actually I just met her today, she was so nice to me after that bitch humiliated me in front of the whole school, that I couldn’t lose this keeper!” Pansy nudged you, while you were extremely embarrassed and trying to alienate yourself from the whole encounter until “Where are the others?” Pansy asked by looking around, “Oh Blaise and Draco are getting drinks and Theo is out smoking”. Hearing that made you lose up and start to speak with the three of them, you figured that at this point you were there and you could make the best out of it. Draco and Blaise came soon after and Mattheo introduced you as “the special guest”, you were finally feeling quite at ease when Theo came out of nowhere behind Blaise “look who decided to join us” “Sorry, I know you guys get bored without me, how could I ever leave you even for 5 minutes”. That voice, that sarcastic tone, that vibrating low hot sound, took you out. You went blank and his eyes found you, right between Mattheo and Pansy, right between your speechlessness and your blinding need to runaway, there you were with what seemed to be the heaviest secret in the world that you were so hardly trying to not let unfold. You didn’t even dare to look at him, you instantly took Pansy’s hand “let’s go get those drinks” and in a beat you were in the crowd running for your life, “and here I thought you were joking when you said you were thirsty” she laughed.

As soon as you reached the drinks’ table you poured yourself an entire cup of another liquor, this time it was purple. You drank that entire thing in one sip under the eyes of a very surprised Pansy, who also seemed to show a mix of pride and respect. “You definitely weren’t joking, here’s to a hufflepuff who very much understands how things go down in here” she raised her cup and chugged it just like you did. “Let’s get another one” “you know it”.

After several drinks you were all fun and games, you were having the time of your life, just like you everyone you saw as you entered. You and Pansy were dancing like it was your last day on earth, and for a brief moment Theo didn’t matter just like every other thing. 

Enzo approached you from behind making you twirl around “look at you so immersed in the atmosphere” “I feel A L I V E, like I’ve never ever ever ever been before, I’m so lucky that you walked in on me in the greenhouse” you smiled very drunkenly at him pulling both Pansy and Enzo into a hug. “Someone’s a sentimental drunk” “you just had to ruin this moment, didn’t you” you jokingly glared at him. You decided that alcohol wasn’t enough, so you pulled out your secret party ingredient, as you sat down -more like fell- on one of the sofas, next to Mattheo -more like half way on top of him- but you were just drunk enough to laugh about it with him and not overthink the embarrassing thing that just happened.

You shared it with him for a while until he got up to go to the bathroom or something like that, that you didn’t quite get. 

“Is this seat taken?” You looked up and you saw him, with his shirt a little unbuttoned and his hair perfectly messy, looking so effortlessly beautiful. 

You shook your head and he took place beside you, and you didn’t dare to look at him, but you just searched for the others, or just anyone else in the crowd, praying that someone would sweep you off of this couch before you could embarrass yourself. You smoked in silence, sure you were blushing and flustered, and you started to imagine how messy and sloppy you must have looked in that moment, fully indulging in your paranoia. You held the blunt between your pointer and middle finger slowly bringing it to your lips, Theo took it from there, and you felt yourself exploding.  In your head you were nothing but pieces of flesh and blood scattered everywhere. “You don’t mind, do you?” you had only one mantra repeating in your mind-BREATHE, BREATHE, BREATHE- you just shrugged, incapable of saying anything. “I saw you dancing and chatting all around tonight, have all your words expired?”, you had never felt this ashamed before, you wanted to tell him that if you just as opened your mouth right now you would say things you would regret and he’d regret asking for it. You could still feel his lingering gaze on you, daring you to react to his words. He probably thought this was some sort of game when really it was just your moral compass, your dignity and your rational side (at least what was left of it) begging you to not go full on insane. 

He scooted a little bit nearer to you “you like all my friends but you don’t seem to like me at all” if only he knew “did I do something?” with this intoxicating proximity you couldn’t resist and you looked at him, right in his alluring orbs. He looked exactly like he did in your head, his intensity and this pull that he had on you were unmistakably real though, that was the problem. He was literally your dream come true, and nothing had ever scared you this much, but just like every other scary thing no matter how frightening it is you cannot pull your gaze away from it. 

You two stared at each other silently, as if there couldn’t possibly exist a word that could hold the importance of what you were expressing with your eyes. 

Mattheo coughed from behind the couch, and you immediately looked at him, who was standing there seeming half awkwardly half playfully intrigued, Theo was still staring, you could feel it. “Did I interrupt something per chance?” “How could you tell?” Theo answered quite bothered and not afraid to show it. “I’m gonna go look for Pans” you said standing up and leaving hoping not to have given the impression of wanting to escape from the heat of the moment too fast, as if it wasn’t exactly what you were doing.

“What the hell dude?” “No I should say what the hell? What the hell was that? Were you having a staring contest?” Mattheo laughed while slouching on the spot you had occupied until few seconds before. “I don’t know, I don’t get her, she talks with everybody except me, each time I’ve seen her she was running away” “What possibly can you not get? She likes you, she’s probably just shy” Theo scoffed “no, I’ve seen shy and I’ve seen like, that was something else, she looked…scared” Mattheo laughed even harder than before “my brother in Christ you’re literally scaring the hoes”, he was hunched over holding his stomach with his hand “Whatever shithead, I’m gonna go look for her, this isn’t over, not yet”.

You were running around looking for Pansy, trying to make sense of whatever happened on that couch. It was a minute matter’s worth, but to you that might had been an eternity, or at least 5 years. 

5 years of yearning and hiding, all gone. You were bare in front of him, you told him everything. And you had to admit that just one real look that lasted 1 minute was worthier than 5 years of pure fantasy.

You felt like you just tasted the most powerful drug in the world, and you couldn’t get enough, but you were so scared that you had to get away before you couldn’t see the light anymore. You felt like the most pathetic and coward being that ever walked this earth. You stumbled on Pansy finally, she was drunker than before and she was crying, so you brought her to the bathroom, in a stall on the floor, just like few hours before.

“Talk to me” “I- I really liked her! And I didn’t even think about telling her, I was so scared that she would react like this. A-and everyone thinks I’m some tough bitch t-that can handle everything, but I can’t, I can’t” you hugged her and let her cry on your shoulder “I completely understand how you feel, and I want you to know that nobody expects anything from you, and even if they did, you just gotta do you. And you’re so strong for admitting this, she really doesn’t deserve you, nobody who makes you cry deserves you”. She just cried for some time, until she had enough, partly because she also kind of sobered up a bit and she said she was looking too ridiculous and weak, specially at a party.

So once again you immersed in the crowd, where you found Draco and Enzo emptying a bottle “You guys wanna play spin the bottle with us?” Pansy answered positively for both of you before you could even consider doing it, “just what I need right now” she added with a smirk, seems like she didn’t need a lot of time to move on, you envied her for that. You were going to sit down in a circle that was forming around the bottle, when someone grabbed your arm and pulled you back, “You sure like to disappear” and just like before you were set on mute once again. “We need to talk” he said “actually you need to talk to me, I’m going mad with this silence act that you’re playing” you just stared at him, not functioning “say anything, say what you’re dying to tell me, I can feel there’s something” he nearly sounded desperate. “Guys sit down we’re starting to play” and you sat down, because you were nothing but a coward, he sat down too because he was nothing but a player. 

He was literally in front of you, staring, he didn’t even know you and you were stressing him like no one had ever before. With your silence around him and nobody else, with those eyes like the ones of a deer caught in headlights, like you were holding back, but just with him. 

You on the other hand were processing just how fast things had escalated, this…and you were really drunk, and high, and you couldn’t really recognize the confine between reality and dreams.

The game started and the first couple to kiss was Blaise and a ravenclaw that shared transfiguration class with you, then Enzo and some other girl, then Pansy and Luna Lovegood…and the scene was pretty hot truth be told. Finally the bottle spun and landed on Theo, and you chocked on air, he kept looking at you, and for a second you let yourself believe that all your dreams would have come true in that perfect moment. You professing your love and him too after an epiphany produced by that sealing kiss.

You could already feel his lips on yours, his arms around your waist in bed the morning after, you walking around hand in hand just like in your dreams, so for the first time that night you looked at him and smiled. The bottle started to slow down, feeling ready, actually you had never felt so ready before, ready to embrace your future just the way you always wanted it to be. Some blonde girl from slytherin started giggling and winked at him…you felt sick…actually sick to your stomach, you needed to leave. She got up walked to him sat on his lap, you felt absolutely ill, someone could have casted a crucio on you and it would have hurt less than this, she grabbed him. Kissed him. He grabbed her, tightly. They started to make out. You left.

This was the most unsubtle action you could end up doing but you had seen enough, actually way too much.

You went to the bathroom and you threw up everything you drank, it all came back to you. Before you couldn’t make out the limit that divided fantasy and reality, but here was your goddamn reality check.

When you were done you just stayed laid back on the ground, crying, and this is why dreams are way more comfortable than real life. You dream in your bed, under your covers and you end up falling asleep with a nice warm feeling of hope.

Real life had you face itself on the cold floor of the bathroom at a party, that you didn’t want to attend. Real life leaves you sick to your stomach, alone, with an awful feeling all over you and with no hope but the one to die.

How stupid had you been to think that he had fallen for you just for literally one second of eye contact. You were literally the definition of delusional, because if you spend your life living in a dream, you’ll probably end up thinking that life is one too. 

(I’m probably gonna write a third part, let me know if you liked it and maybe repost it thanks🤠)

[judyvan]

Dirty Laundry (Payback) - A Sturniolo Fanfic

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Summary: Matt takes you out on a date. Can you focus on the payback plan and put your feelings for Matt to the side?

Warnings: MDNI/ smut/ mattxfem!reader/ pnv/ slight choking/ toxic intentions/ getting payback/ fluff/ pet names (pretty boy, baby)/ multiple part series/ use of "you"

A/N: This is part 3 of my series, "Dirty Laundry." For context, click here to find parts 1 and 2. Interactions are appreciated. Pls don't steal my shit. Thx!💋

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“What the fuck are we doing?” you think to yourself as you pull on a jacket. Matt said the date was a surprise, but he also told you to dress “outdoorsy”…whatever the hell that meant. There was no denying the slight sense of excitement that bubbled in your chest when he told you this date was a secret. Although you knew it was totally because you were going to see Matt, you wanted to convince yourself that it was because you were no longer going to see Matt after tonight. Tonight was it. You needed to find a way to get Matt alone and follow through with the plan before you fell in deeper than you wanted to. The whole point of this was to get back at your ex, not to fall for his brother.

[Matthew Sturniolo]

I think I’m here.

[You]

I’m walking outside now! Do you see me?

Matt honks the horn lightheartedly and your eyes fall on his car. As you approach the vehicle, Matt hops out of the car to open your door.

"You look really good," Matt says, a smiling spreading across his face as he shuts your door and makes his way to the driver's side.

As much as you hate it, you can feel your face grow hot.

"Don't fucking blush at that! What're you doing?!?" you think to yourself, pulling down the passenger mirror to make sure the flush isn't too noticeable. You look over at Matt as he buckles his seatbelt. He's wearing a white t-shirt, a nice pair of pants, and a hat embroidered with flowers.

"You don't look too bad yourself," you say.

Matt tries to hold back his smile, but he fails. He puts the car in drive and starts to move away from your house. The two of you talk and listen to music as he drives. Suddenly, you remember that you don't even know where you're going.

"So, where are you taking me?"

"We are going on a hike," he says shooting you a look.

We are going on a fucking hike for a "first date?!" Great! His brother is a fuckboy, and he is a serial killer.

"A hike," you say confused. "Are you going to kidnap me or something?" you chuckle.

Matt lets out a soft laugh.

"No, I'm not going to kidnap you. I want to take you to a special spot."

"As long as it's not a pre-dug grave, I'm down," you say with a laugh.

Matt smiles at you before returning his eyes to the road. Why is he so hot...ugh? If he keeps looking at me like that I'm going to...

"We're here," Matt says pulling you out of your thoughts.

He pulls into the parking lot and exits the car. After helping you out of the vehicle, he looks down at you.

"Are you ready?" he asks as a huge smile consumes his face.

You take off his hat and place it on his head backwards.

"I'm as ready as I'll ever be," you say, taking Matt's face in your hands.

His smile makes your heart race. Suddenly, your feels his hands snake around your waist as he pulls you closer to him.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks, rubbing his thumb on your lower back.

"I'd be upset if you didn't," you reply with a smirk, pulling his face even closer to yours.

Matt's lips meet yours as he kisses you gently. Although his lips are sweet and warm, the soft kiss sends a jolt throughout your entire body. He pulls away from you and places a gentle peck to your forehead.

"Let's get going," he says, taking your hand in his as he starts to lead you down the trail. The two of you walked with your hands intertwined. Matt leads the way as you take in the scenery. Everything is so beautiful.

"How did you know that I like hiking?"

Matt looks at you and lets out a small chuckle.

"I didn't."

You look at Matt, taking in the sight of him. His lips, his hair, his perfectly tattooed arm, his hand intertwined with yours. You reach for your phone.

"Well, I hope you know that I like taking pictures too," you say with a laugh. You take a quick photo of Matt before quickly putting your phone back in your pocket.

"Let me see the picture," Matt laughs.

"I'll show you later, I promise."

"I'm going to hold you to that. We are almost to the spot. We've got to take this path right here," Matt says, leading the way.

He takes you down a connecting trail, revealing a lot more greenery. You can hear the sound of water, but there are only trees in sight. You pull out your phone and start to take even more pictures. You and Matt continue to talk as you walk through the trail, when a few short trees reveal a waterfall.

"MATT, LOOK!" you say pointing excitedly. You quickly turn your phone and start to snap a bunch of photos of the waterfall. Matt chuckles at your excitement.

"I know. Pretty cool, huh?"

"It so prettyyyyughhhh," you respond looking at Matt.

Matt's hand leaves yours as he wraps it around your back, kissing the top of your head softly.

"I know, I know, but we've gotta keep walking. We are almost there. I promise you'll be able to see it again, the trees break more up ahead."

You nod and continue to walk, Matt's hand resting on your lower back. After walking and talking for a few more minutes, Matt stops you. He grabs your hands and looks in your eyes.

"Do you trust me?" he asks.

"Uhhh, not really. I don't know you super well yet. Why?"

Matt chuckles at your response.

"Because this is a surprise, so I need to cover your eyes."

See...a serial killer.

"Do whatever you have to do," you laugh, "Just please don't hurt me."

You hear Matt laugh as he places his hands over your eyes. His voice guides you, making sure you don't run into anything. You start to feel Matt slow down.

"Are we here?" you ask.

"Mhm," Matt says taking his hands away from your eyes.

After blinking a few times and readjusting to the light, you see the waterfall. It looks 10 times bigger now that you are standing in the grassy area directly next to it. You look down at your feet and see a huge blanket covered in picnic supplies.

"MATT! What the fuck?!" you shriek excitedly, turning to hug him.

Matt laughs, pulling you into his body.

"Do you like it?" he asks.

"I love it!"

That was the problem. He was too hard to not like. At this point, you wish he would've just killed you.

You squeeze Matt hard, taking in his comforting scent before pulling away from him. The both of you sit down on the blanket as your date officially begins. The two of you talk and laugh while enjoying your picnic. You pull out your phone and start to take even more photos.

"Can I see the one you took of me earlier?" Matt asks, taking a sip of his drink.

"I'll show you later," you say.

"Like when I drop you off later orr?"

"Matt, I want you to stay at my house tonight. What do you think?" you ask, searching for a way to get Matt alone.

He smiles at you as he thinks.

"I'll stay with you tonight, but only because I want to see that photo," Matt says with a smirk on his face.

As the two of you finish up the picnic, you stand up and dust yourself off. That's when you feel a vibration in your pocket. You pull out your phone, noticing you have an Instagram notification.

[Christopher Sturniolo]

Can we please talk?

I miss you.

Come pick me up tonight, please.

Without even thinking, you block the account.

"Do you need some help," you ask Matt.

"No, I've got it," Matt responds, throwing everything back into the basket that it came out of.

He picks up the basket and grabs your hand. He leads you back down the trail to the parking lot. The two of you find the car and pack up. Matt helps you into the car before getting in himself. As he starts to drive off you can feel him looking at you.

“What?” you say, smiling against your will.

“Did you have a good time? Are you going to let me take you out again?” he asks.

“You aren’t very good at taking hints, are you? I literally asked you to stay the night at my house tonight.”

You can see Matt lick his lips before his attention falls back on the road.

“Oh, I’m very good at taking hints. I just want to make sure we are on the same page, and I don’t get my hopes up after tonight,” he says.

“Yes, Matt. I plan on sticking around if you do,” you say, swallowing the lump in your throat created by the lie that just came out of your mouth.

“Good. I really like you,” he says placing his hand on your thigh.

“I really like you too,” you say, placing your hand over top of his.

Eventually, Matt arrives at your house. He gets out of the car first to open your door. He takes your hand in his as he walks you to your front door.

"I'm going to take a quick shower and then I'll text you when you can come over," you say, taking his face in your hands.

"I'm going to shower too but trust me I'll be waiting for that text."

The both of you laugh and you quickly press your lips to his. Almost as quickly as you start the kiss, you pull away. Matt attempts to pull you back in obviously wanting more.

"Not too fast, pretty boy. You'll get plenty of that later."

Matt chuckles and places a small peck to your forehead.

"That shower better be quick," he says as he walks back towards his car.

You smile at his words and walk inside, immediately making your way to the bathroom.

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After finishing your "everything shower," you immediately messaged Matt, wanting him to come over as quickly as possible. You want to spend as much time with him as you can, considering tonight may be the last night that you see him. You're setting up your room for a movie night when you get a text from Matt.

[Matthew Sturniolo]

I'm here.

You walk to the front door, flinging it open before Matt can even knock. You grab him by his shirt, pulling him towards your body.

"Get in here," you say playfully, pressing your mouth against his as soon as he enters your house. For a mouth that you just met today, you really did miss it a lot.

You give Matt a tour of your house, saving your room for last.

"I hope you like watching movies," you say nodding your head towards the bowl of popcorn on your nightstand.

"I love movies," he says, sitting his backpack on your floor.

You lead him towards your bed, both of you getting comfortable immediately. Matt pulls you into his body and the two of you agree on a movie. As the movie goes on, you share the popcorn, talk, and admire each other, kissing occasionally. Being here with Matt just felt so right and his body pressed against yours started to make your heart race.

"Do you want any more popcorn?" you ask him.

Matt shakes his head with a smile. You set the popcorn back on your nightstand, freeing up your hands so that you can roam Matt's body. You immediately put your hand on his chest as you place your lips against his. As you deepen the kiss, you swing your leg over his. Matt smiles against your lips before slipping his tongue in your mouth. You move your hand down to his lower stomach, slipping your fingers into his waistband. Suddenly, you start to feel pressure against your thigh. You look up at Matt with a chuckle.

"Is that your phone or are you just happy to see me?" you ask sarcastically.

Matt's cheeks start to flush. He clears his throat and ignores your question.

"Speaking of phones, can you show me those photos you took now?" he asks, desperately trying to change the subject.

"Of course," you say, laughing at Matt's demeanor.

You instantly pull out your phone and click on your 'Photos' app. You scroll to the photo of Matt and hold it up to him excitedly.

"Loooook," you say with a big smile, "You're so handsome. I could literally die."

Matt laughs, kissing your hair as a thank you. You scroll through the next few photos that you captured on your hike, when you land on the waterfall photos. You feel giddy inside as you look up at Matt. Why did he have to be so perfect and take you on the best first date possible. Just being in his presence was enough to turn you on.

"Look at how pretty the waterfall was, Matt," you say, pushing your phone closer to his face.

Matt starts to laugh to himself.

"What?"

"Nothing. I was about to say something really cringey," he says continuing to laugh.

"Well, let's hear it then," you say with a smirk.

"I was going to say that the waterfall was probably the second prettiest thing that I saw today," Matt says winking at you playfully.

"Can I say something cringey too?"

Matt nods his head, rubbing small circles on your thigh with his thumb and placing a gentle kiss on your neck.

"That waterfall will also be the second wettest thing that you've seen all day if you keep talking to me like that."

You can feel Matt smirk against your skin before his eyes land on yours. You smile at him before you begin to pepper kisses against his jawline. You straddle Matt as you lean your face towards his. He takes your ass in his hands as he kisses you passionately. A small moan escapes your lips from the taste of his mouth. You grind against the now obvious bulge in his pants as you kiss him more desperately. Matt rolls you over, placing his body between your legs, never breaking the kiss.

"I need to be on top. If this is the only time I have to get with Matt, I'm going to at least make sure it's good," you think to yourself.

Matt's lips disconnect with yours and meet your neck. His tongue dancing across your skin forces your hips to buck up towards his, searching for friction.

"Take off your pants," you whisper into Matt's ear.

At your command, Matt props himself up on his knees as he starts to pull down his sweatpants. You sit up yourself, pulling off your shirt before you grab Matt by the shoulders, rolling him over. You begin to kiss down Matt's body, grabbing for the bottom of his shirt. Matt lifts up slightly and you pull his shirt off. He then loops his fingers in your waistband, slipping your shorts off, leaving you both in you under clothes.

"I need to get a condom from my bag," Matt says out of breath as you begin to suck hickeys along his collarbone.

"No need," you say, leaning over to grab one from the top drawer of your nightstand, placing the package in between Matt's teeth.

He smiles as he reaches up to unclasp your bra and throws it on the floor. He then pulls you flesh against his chest before placing you on your back once again. Shit. He gently pulls your underwear down and tosses them with your bra. Matt begins to reach for the waistband of his own underwear before you roll him onto his back and mounting him once again. The two of you were just tossing each other back and forth at this point.

"I'll get these, and you open that," you say, sliding his boxers down and flicking your eyes to the condom in his mouth.

Matt pulls the protection out of his mouth and lets out a small chuckle as he tears the package open.

"What're you doing?" he giggles, as he pulls the condom out of its package.

"I'm sorry, did you want me to..."

"No, not about this," Matt interrupts you, "Why won't you let me be on top?"

"It's just, umm," you start.

"It's okay. I don't mind. I'm just curious," Matt says, pulling the condom onto himself.

"I can't finish unless I'm on top."

"Who told you that?" Matt asks with a small laugh.

"Nobody. Just from experience."

"Well, that certainly isn't true. Whoever was fucking you just wasn't doing it right," Matt says with a shit eating grin on his face.

"It was your fucking brother," you want to scream out badly.

"Let me prove it to you," Matt says, rolling you over onto your back for the last time, "I want to see your pretty face."

Matt leans down and kisses you roughly. You nod your head, letting him know it's okay.

"Are you ready?" he asks, lining himself up with your entrance.

"Yes, Matt. Please," you say, quickly looking down at Matt's size. He's bigger than Chris.

Matt starts to push himself into you, both of you letting out a gasp. He stretched you out in the best way possible. After giving you a moment to adjust to his size, he starts to pump himself inside of you. Matt lets out a low groan at the feeling of you taking him in.

"Holy fuck," you moan.

Almost immediately, Matt locates your g-spot and begins to slam himself into it repeatedly. Your back arches off the bed and your sounds of pleasure begin to fill the room. You claw at Matt's back, needing more of him.

"FUCK, MATT! Right there."

Your hands leave his back and fall on the bed. Matt quickly takes one of your hands in his and squeezes it gently as he starts to pound himself into you hard and fast.

"That good?" Matt whispers against your ear.

You shriek in response, the feeling of pleasure consuming you. Matt wraps his hand around your throat and kisses the side of your jaw sweetly as he fucks you rough.

"You okay, baby?" he asks through his low moans.

"Oh my God, Matt! Don't stop!"

"Fuck! I'm so close," Matt groans, taking his hand off of your throat and placing it on your clit, rubbing fast circles.

"I'm gonna... Fuck!" you scream as your orgasm hits you hard.

Matt comes at the same time as you. He continues to fuck himself into you as you both ride out your highs. That was the best you had ever felt. Matt pulls out of you and kisses your face gently. He removes the condom and easily pulls you into his chest. He runs his hand over your hair, softly rubbing your back.

"Are you okay, baby?"

"I'm fucking great, Matt," you say, kissing his chest.

"How do you feel?"

"That was amazing," you say caressing his arm.

"I'm happy I made you feel good," he says kissing your lips lightly, "Do you want me to go start a bath?"

"No need. I don't think I'm done for the night," you say with a playful smirk.

"Before we get too ahead of ourselves, I need to ask you a question," Matt chuckles.

"Go ahead."

"Would you want to meet my brothers sometime? I really, really like you and I want you to meet them, especially if we are going to be seeing each other for a while."

You think to yourself for a moment. Matt is really great. Greater than you pictured. Sure, you only started things with him to piss Chris off, but you couldn't care less about Chris anymore. Why break things off with Matt if Matt is what you deserve. He is everything you've ever wanted and makes up for all of the areas that Chris was lacking in. If anything, Chris seeing you with Matt in person would make him madder than kissing and telling. Fuck this payback plan.

"Yes, Matt. I'd love to," you say, a large smile plastered across your face.

If you would like to join or be removed from my tag list at any point in time, feel free to let me know! 💋

Taglist: @welovestromboli @2prcntmilkluvr @stvrnzwrld @wh0remikasas @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @chrislovespepsi @leovaldezluvr @maggiie @edwardscoldhands

Come back for part 4 to see how Chris reacts to you being with Matt!

[fatgirlonadate-blog]

21 Days - Day 14

They say that to know someone is to love them. But what about loving someone without really knowing them? There aren't any famous quotes or pretty sayings for it, but it's just as real. You'd know because you're living it.

There's love at first sight, you suppose. But that isn't what happened with Xavier; it was almost the opposite. He'd been so beautiful that it was hard to look at him, but he had seemed strangely wary of you. He'd looked at you like you were somehow just as dangerous as the wanderers lurking in the shadows.

No, it was definitely not love at first sight. Xavier was mysterious and intriguing, but there was no life-altering pull toward him the moment your eyes met.

Not like there was when you had met Sylus.

Fuck. Not now; not Sylus. More confusion is the last thing you need.

Xavier's fevered promises have been replaying in your mind like a song stuck on repeat since last night. It was easy to ignore them when you were focused on caring for him, and even more easy to forget them as he caressed and kissed away all of the thoughts from your mind. But in the quiet moments since, his pleading words, said so brokenly, are all you’ve been able to think about.

Whatever it is that haunts him has now also possessed you.

You want to believe that it's not important. You know you need to let it go. If he wanted you to know, then he would let you in without having to push him for it. But curiosity is in your bloodstream now, circulating through all of your thoughts and feelings.

How can you fully love him while only knowing half of him? Maybe even less.

It's not like you don't know him at all - you do. In the past two weeks, you've learned more about him than you ever thought you would. You know the exact way he likes his milk tea, the feel of his fingers moving inside you, and that, if it came to it, he’d lay down his life for you without a second thought. And yet, you don’t even know if he has a middle name or what his life was like before he woke up in yours.

"What are you thinking about?" Xavier asks, his voice dragging you out of your thoughts and back to the present.

You're curled up on the couch beside him, snug against his side, wrapped in the warmth of his arms. Most of the day has been spent right here with him, just like this. He claimed that the only surefire cure for his cold was a horror movie marathon, but you’re fairly certain it was actually just an excuse to cuddle you all day. Not a moment has gone by without him touching you somehow—a hand resting on your thigh, an arm lazily draped over your shoulder, or his legs intertwined with yours.

His fingers glide down your arm now, lightly stroking your bare skin, and you realize he's still waiting for you to answer his question.

"Your birthday," you lie, saying the first thing that comes to mind. "It's almost here."

"Yeah," he nods. "Do I still get to pick the book?"

"Only if you are a very good boy," you tease, knowing you've already picked out a book and more for his special day.

He laughs softly, and you both fall quiet as his attention turns back to the television. You try to focus on the screen, you really do, but that ghost is back and so are all of your questions.

Does he even remember the things he said while he was sick? It doesn’t seem like he does, and he probably wouldn't want to talk about it even if he did.

The day has been nearly perfect, and there's no reason to ruin it. He looks so happy and at ease with you in his arms, and being with him like this is all you ever wanted. So why do you need more?

You don't need more. You don't, you don't, you don't. You love him. And isn't that enough? Love is patient.

But you, apparently, are not.

"Xavier, how old will you be on your birthday?"

His fingers on your arm pause for the smallest fraction of a second before resuming their caress. "24. You didn't know that?"

Liar.

You knew that would be his answer, but it does not make it sting less.

You have no idea how old he actually is, but he's definitely not 24. Despite all logic, he can't be. It's obvious that he and Lumiere are the same person, no matter how often he tries to insist otherwise. It shouldn't be possible; Lumiere would have to be in his 40s and Xavier hardly looks a day over 21. But, somehow, they're the same person. You know it's true even if you don't understand how it could be.

Your silence catches Xavier’s attention, and his curious gaze flickers to your face. You force a small, tight smile, hoping to mask the disappointment you feel. But you must fail because he frowns and glances away, shifting uncomfortably.

You should say something. You should joke or tease him just to ease the tension like you always do when you know he's lying. But all you manage is a soft hum of acknowledgement, unable to trust your mouth not to betray your thoughts.

The movie continues to play, the screams and gunshots coming from the TV sounding much louder now in the quiet room. But neither of you are paying any attention to it anymore, and you can practically feel him thinking from where he sits stiffly pressed beside you.

Finally, he lets out a heavy sigh, and his body relaxes against yours, "Ask me again."

"What?" You say, not trusting your own ears.

He shifts to turn toward you, reaching up to stroke the side of your face as he meets your gaze. "Ask me your question again. Please."

He's nervous, you realize. It's written all over him: from the slight tremor of his hand on your cheek to the way his eyes scan your face anxiously. He's afraid of this.

And maybe you are, too.

"On your birthday..." you trail off, losing momentum, caught between the fear of the truth and the sting of another lie, "will you be turning 24...for the first time?"

A silent struggle plays out in his blue eyes, torn between uncertainty and longing.

"No," he admits quietly, "not for the first time."

It's hard to remember to breathe as you absorb his words. It’s not that his answer shocks you; you’ve known for a long time that he was lying about his age. It’s his honesty that has you gaping at him in surprise.

He actually told you the truth.

You should be brimming with questions and desperate for answers, you know that. But you are neither as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into a tight hug. A wave of unbridled happiness rushes through you, and you have the silly urge to cry.

It’s just a few simple words—nothing to warrant this surge of emotion. But it feels like so much more. It’s a beginning, a tentative promise that, maybe, just maybe, he’ll let you truly know him.

The look in his eyes as you pull back from the hug is hard to read. There’s fear in there, definitely, but maybe also a hint of relief shining back at you.

"So... how many candles should I get for your cake?" you ask, trying to lighten the moment and ease the worry on his face.

His brows raise in surprise, and then his shoulders shake as he laughs, "A lot. Too many for a cake."

"100?" You guess, aiming higher than seems reasonable.

"More."

"150?" You squeak, your voice pitching up an octave at the very idea.

"Many more than that."

Your mouth drops open in surprise, and you'd swear he was fucking with you right now if he did not look like a deer staring down the barrel of a hunter's rifle.

"200?" You guess again, the number sounding even more ludicrous as it leaves your lips.

Xavier scrubs a hand across his reddening face and groans, "Still more."

A choked laugh slips out as you try to process that. Just how old is he? Ancient? Prehistoric?

Xavier fidgets with the pocket of his hoodie, his smile tight and forced. It starts to fade as your stunned silence stretches on, and he lets out a shuddering breath before speaking.

"I know it sounds..." Xavier starts and then stops, shaking his head as he tries to find the right word. "...impossible."

Impossible. Yes, it does sound impossible, and crazy, and a dozen other words that wouldn’t begin to describe how you're feeling. There are no words big enough for this. So instead, you lean forward and kiss him, hoping the press of your lips can say everything that words alone aren't enough to express.

Your fingers tangling in his hair are reassurance that it’s okay. That yes, this is crazy, but you believe him, and it doesn’t change anything—because it’s him. He could be a thousand years old, and you’d still be here.

Your tongue seeking the seam of his lips is a silent confirmation that you understand: you’re both standing at the edge of something that could change everything, but you’re not afraid. Not when he’s the one beside you.

He’s motionless against you for a fraction of a second, but then his fingers curl into your hair at the base of your neck, pulling you closer as he tilts your head to deepen the kiss. The way he parts his lips for you speaks for him, too, promising you everything. His heart, his time, and his secrets.

When he finally pulls away from the kiss, he leans back just far enough to catch his breath before brushing his nose against yours. "You're not freaked out?"

The stressed, anxious sound of his voice, even after you just poured every ounce of love and acceptance into that kiss, makes you realize for the first time that maybe he hasn’t been keeping secrets from you. Maybe he’s been keeping them for you—too afraid of scaring you away, too afraid of losing you.

"Xavier," You whisper, cupping his face in your hands and forcing him to look at you. "Nothing about you could ever, ever scare me."

He holds your gaze in silence for what feels like an eternity, worry and doubt etched into the lines of his face. Then, slowly, his face begins to crumple and his shoulders sag, as if he can no longer bear whatever weight he's been carrying.

Instinctively, you guide his head to your chest, shifting to pull him into your arms, and offering him comfort in the only way you know how.

"Nothing?" He breathes out shakily.

"Nothing," You reassure him, running a comforting hand through his hair. "Not a single thing."

You sit in silence, soothing him in your arms, as you struggle to process the reality of the last few minutes. You had hoped blindly that someday he might let his walls come down, but it was a half-hearted hope. You'd spent more time trying to accept that he probably never would.

But now he has.

There’s more, you’re sure of it. His age can't be his only secret, and so many questions swirl in your mind—big questions, complicated questions, questions with the potential to hurt. But as you hold him and stroke his back, you’re surprised to find that most of the answers you wanted so badly don’t feel nearly as important as you once thought they were.

You must truly love him, because the question you want to ask most isn’t so earth-shattering after all. It’s something simpler, almost trivial, with no reason for it to matter as much as it does—except for the fact that this tiny truth is more precious to you than all the rest.

"What were you like when you were young?" You ask, smiling at just the thought of it.

It’s not what he’s expecting, clearly, and his startled laugh rumbles against your chest before he pulls back to meet your eyes.

"That's what you want to know?" he asks, his voice laced with disbelief. A smile flickers onto his face, easing any trace of the tears that had been threatening to fall.

"Uh huh," You nod eagerly.

"I was..." He tilts his head to the side, considering it, "not so different from the way I am now."

You scoff and roll your eyes. "Xav, please, you have to give me more than that. I know it was like a million years ago, but you must remember. What were you like in school? What was your family like? I don't even know if you have siblings."

His lips quirk up slightly at the edges, “A million? Really? I am not that old."

"Oh, so just half a million then?" you tease, giggling at the exasperated, offended look on his face. "Tell me. Please, pretty please."

He’s silent for several moments, and that familiar, bittersweet distance clouds his eyes. His hesitation makes you wonder if this is where his willingness to share ends, if his walls are still firmly in place and he’s only allowed you a glimpse through a narrow window. But then, miraculously, his smile wins out over the frown, and his eyes find yours, soft and open.

"I don’t have any siblings,” he begins, “but, yes, I had a family. They were...difficult. My father and I didn't agree on very many things, some of them more important than others." He swallows hard and looks away, as if that particular admission is painful. "I tried to be what they wanted, but I couldn't. We weren't close."

Had? Tried? Past tense. Your stomach twists as it hits you: Xavier is an orphan, like you. It's another piece of yourself mirrored in him—another reason he feels so much like home. Because neither of you have one anymore, and what you've found in each other is the closest thing to it.

"Are you...from here?" You ask awkwardly, not sure how to phrase your question without sounding like an idiot. Asking if he's an alien or a god or something feels too stupid to say out loud.

"No." He says softly, shaking his head. "I'm from...another place. Far from here."

"What was it like?"

"It was..." He trails off, choosing his words carefully. "...different from here. The people there live for a long time. So yeah, I'm kind of old, I guess."

You can't help the bubble of nervous laughter that erupts at the absurdity of this situation. He is kind of old, and not from this planet, and you love him, and maybe he is an alien?

It is absolutely insane, but it makes more sense than it should. Is it really that much weirder than the aethercore lodged in your heart or the wanderers showing up on Earth?

"So...just to make sure I understand," you start carefully. "You are a really, really, really old man from...outer space. Right?"

His brows furrow, and it looks like he's going to correct you for a moment, but then he laughs. "Basically," he says, rubbing a hand against the nape of his neck.

"How did you get here? Like...why are you here and not wherever your home is?"

He sighs harshly and glances away, his easy expression slipping back into that guarded one as he shakes his head.

"That is a question for another day." He answers, jaw clenched, but there's an apology in his eyes.

Disappointment flares to life in your chest at his refusal, but you squash it. He has been more honest than you ever expected him to be. It seems that whatever ghost that still stands between you cannot be banished so easily. There must be a reason for it, and you are trying to trust that it's a good one.

"What were you like as a kid then? You never answered. Did you go to school and stuff? Did you have friends?"

He nods, and some of the tension eases from his jaw, "I did go to school. A...military academy. Where do you think I learned all of my swordsmanship?" A soft smile lights his face, as if he is recalling a genuinely fond memory. "I didn't have a lot of friends. But the ones I did have were very special to me."

It’s hard to picture him with friends—not because he’s unlikable; he’s incredibly charming. But you’ve never seen him show genuine interest in anyone besides you. You wonder what they were like, and if he must miss them terribly. Is that where that mysterious, sad look in his eyes comes from? Does he want to go back?

Yes, he misses someone. You would bet your life on it. But not his family. Someone else who was important to him.

"Did you ever have a girlfriend?" You blurt out, jealousy getting the best of you. 

He hesitates, frowning, and your heart seizes in your chest. This answer shouldn't be important. But some instinct tells you that it is; that your worry that perhaps you are sharing his heart isn't just a jealous delusion.

"No, not exactly," he says, his lips pressing into a thin line, withholding any further explanation.

Not exactly? Oh, hell no. That means yes.

You want to press him on it; you want to know if this ghost has a name and if he loved her - if he still loves her. If she is the reason for that far away look in his eyes and why he gives you that bittersweet smile so often. But the question is stuck - frozen in your throat.

You open your mouth to speak, but find you can't ask it. Not when this particular answer does actually scare you.

"Do you remember your first kiss?" You ask instead, trying to move past the sick feeling of jealousy coiling in your belly.

"I do," He answers, flashing you a cheeky smile. "It wasn't very good. I don't think she really wanted to kiss me. She did it because she thought she had to."

"What?" You practically squawk, your jealousy fading to surprised disbelief. Who in their right mind would not want to kiss him?

Xavier’s smile inexplicably widens, and he laughs as if you’ve told him a joke whose punchline only he understands.

"It's true. It was more like bumping noses than kissing, and she only did it to keep up appearances." He shrugs and cups your face in his hand, rubbing his thumb lightly over your bottom lip. "But the second kiss was much better. She let me try again, and I think we both liked that one."

Your brain nearly stops functioning as you connect the dots, and your initial disbelief is replaced by an even stronger shock. Is he describing your first kiss? He can't be.

How the hell long has he been alive? There's no way that was his first kiss. It cannot have been.

You swat his hand away from your face and scowl at him, "Very funny, Xavier."

"I'm not joking," He says, laughing quietly and catching your wrist with his hand before you can swat him again. He pulls you close and nuzzles your cheek, placing a soft kiss just beneath your ear. "It was my first kiss."

"Really?" You reply skeptically, squinting at him.

"Yes, really."

“But that’s...how is it even...200 years? 400 years?” Your words stumble over each other, incomplete, as you struggle to believe what you're hearing.

He lets out a soft, breathy laugh, a hint of pink coloring his cheeks, and he presses a line of kisses from your ear to your cheek. “I guess I was just waiting for the right girl.”

You’re stunned into silence, caught between disbelief and wonder. If you had not already been hopelessly in love with him, then this would have done it. It would have sent you careening over the edge with no possible hope of return.

His first kiss. You were his first kiss. Of everything he has said today, this is the thing that's most shocking. How can it even be possible? Never mind the fact that this means he'd have gone hundreds of years without a kiss, he's just plain too good at it to not have more experience. He kisses you like he's done it thousands of times, and he certainly doesn't touch you like a boy who had never been kissed before.

Wait a minute. Wait a damn minute.

The evening you were caught in the rain with Xavier replays in your mind, and you remember the pained way he refused you when you'd asked him for more than just his fingers. 'Waited so long. Don't know if I can be gentle with you.' That's what he had said, and you thought he meant weeks - that he had been pent up for weeks. But did he mean...years? Centuries?

"Are you a virgin?" You squeak out, your eyes widening comically as the possibility slaps you in the face.

The blush on Xavier's cheeks turns positively crimson, and he ducks his head, refusing to meet your eyes. "Well...I mean, sort of."

"You totally are!" You counter excitedly, playfully jabbing a finger at his chest.

He mumbles something quickly, his words too fast and too low for your brain to even begin to process them. Not that you could focus enough to hear him anyway, because if your kiss had truly been his first, then you must be his first everything.

It’s nearly impossible to believe, but somehow, it fits him—just like everything else about this does. And the longer you think about it, the more it makes sense. He’s old-fashioned because he is old; so very, very old. He still blushes around you because all of this is new to him. He can’t get enough of touching you because he’s never had the chance before.

He has been starved for affection, you realize. For hundreds of years. If you were not so elated you would feel bad for him.

You have to hold back a gasp as understanding dawns on you. Is this why you've been trapped in the land of heavy petting and dry humping? Is he going to make you wait until marriage to have sex with him? The thought is funnier than it should be, and you cannot hold back the growing hysteria anymore, your giggles tumbling out of your mouth on their own.

Xavier clears his throat and reaches for your face, gently holding it in his hands, guiding your gaze to his. His eyes are an intense, electric blue as he repeats his mumbled question, this time more clearly, “Are you?”

He watches your face expectantly as your laughter fades and his question sinks in.

Oh, shit.

It never crossed your mind that he might ask you the same thing, and the way he’s staring at you—sharp, focused—makes it clear that your answer is important. It matters to him.

"Um..." You hesitate, feeling backed into a corner by the intensity in his eyes, "...kind of?"

"Kind of?" He echoes, his eyes flicking down your lips. "What does that mean?"

"It means...that I've done some things, but not all of the things. You know, touching and kissing and stuff. But not like...all of it. Not all of the way," You finish lamely, your cheeks feeling like they might actually burn you up.

He falls silent for a moment, his brows knitting together as his eyes narrow on yours. “With someone else?”

There's a rough edge to his tone, a warning and a promise wrapped into a single question. The implication is clear, and you can practically hear his possessive thoughts as he waits for your answer. It's almost intimidating.

But mostly it's fucking hot.

"Um, yes?" You squeak out.

He nods slowly, his eyes darkening as he slides his hand from your cheek to rest lightly on your neck. "Where?"

"Huh?"

"Where did they touch you?" He clarifies, his thumb gently stroking the column of your throat.

Your pulse quickens under his touch. His hand isn’t squeezing or holding your neck tightly; it simply rests there, his fingers warm against your skin. You know, deep in your bones, he’d never hurt you. But the awareness that he could, if he wanted, sends a thrill through you that makes your heart pound.

It's unfair, really, how quickly he can go from a blushing boy one moment to a man who makes you tremble the next.

"Xav, no way," You say somewhat breathlessly, and the blush on your cheeks grows even hotter, "I am not telling you that."

He hums softly, eyes searching your face, though you’re not entirely sure what he’s looking for. Whatever it is, he must find it, because he nods and begins to slide his hand down from your neck.

“Here?” he asks softly, his fingers tracing gently along your collarbone just above the neckline of your tank top. “Did they touch you here?”

You nod wordlessly, a quiet thrill of anticipation coursing through you.

He leans in, pressing a soft line of kisses from the center of your collarbone to your shoulder, gently scraping his teeth along your skin as he completes his path.

A shaky breath escapes from between your lips, and he pulls away just slightly to ask, “Did they kiss you like this?”

“N-no,” you murmur, your voice catching as every ounce of blood in your body seems to rush south, robbing you of your ability to speak.

“No? Then what about...” he trails off as his hands slide down to trace along your breasts through the thin material of your top, “has anyone else touched you like this?”

“Xavier...” you try to speak, to tell him he is being ridiculous, but you're cut off as he grasps the hem of your shirt and begins lifting it up over your chest. You lift your arms instinctively as the fabric catches under your armpits, and he pulls it off completely, tossing it onto the floor.

"Here?" He asks, not waiting for a response as he dips his head to place gentle, open-mouthed kisses along your cleavage, his hands slipping behind your back to unhook the clasp of your bra.

"Xav, it doesn't matter," you whisper, feeling the cups of your bra fall away as he slides the straps off your shoulders, tossing it onto the floor to join your shirt.

"It does matter," he answers, palming your breasts in his hands and gently pinching your nipples between his fingers. "Because you're mine now."

A small gasp escapes your lips as a jolt of electric pleasure rushes from your nipples, down your spine, and settles between your thighs. You know you shouldn’t encourage this—he’s too jealous for his own good—but he's right. You are his now. And the thought of him replacing every touch, every kiss you've ever known with one of his own is too tempting to refuse.

You’re nodding before you even realize it. A soft “Yes” slipping from your lips as your fingers find the hem of his white hoodie, tugging it upward, needing to see him, too.

At your urging, he quickly pulls off his hoodie, then the t-shirt underneath, his muscles flexing with the movement. The sight alone is almost enough to make you moan. He’s so fucking gorgeous. You could see him like this every day for the rest of your life, and it would still never be enough.

The moment his shirt hits the floor, his hands are on your shoulders guiding you back onto the couch until he's on top of you. You can feel the hard length of his cock pressing against you through his jeans, and you have to squeeze your thighs together just to ease some of the ache between them.

He trails his lips down your chest, pausing to tease each nipple with his mouth, before kissing a slow path down to your belly button. He presses a warm, wet kiss there, and you gasp as his tongue slips into the small hollow, swirling around it. The sensation is new—unexpected—and you giggle helplessly at the wet tickle.

He lifts his head to smile up at you, and his eyes are an even brighter shade of blue now, shining with amused pride. He laughs, moving back down to nuzzle the spot with the tip of his nose, making you giggle again. "No one has kissed you here?"

You shake your head, threading your fingers through his hair and grazing your nails against his scalp as he kisses along the waistband of your leggings.

A wave of pure affection hits you as you watch him worship your skin, realizing only Xavier could make you giggle like this while your pussy throbs with need for him.

He continues his slow path of kisses across your stomach, pausing occasionally to run his tongue along a particularly sensitive patch of skin, making your back arch off the couch. You're not sure if he's teasing you on purpose or if he's just exploring. Maybe a bit of both, judging from the smile that tugs at the corner of his mouth each time you gasp.

You're ready to beg, willing to promise him anything, by the time he finally moves lower and parts your thighs.

"What about here?" He asks, placing a kiss to your clothed pussy, his lips right above your clit. "Has anyone else ever touched you here?"

"God, Xavier, please," you groan, pressing your head back against the cushion and bucking your hips toward his face. But his hands are firm on your hips, holding you still, silently waiting for his answer.

"I don't remember," you lie breathlessly.

"I think you do," He argues, the heat of his mouth so fucking close, you swear you can feel it.

It's hard to think with him between your thighs, and your pussy is so slick and wet that you can feel your panties sticking to your skin. You're so desperate to feel his tongue against your clit that you'd say anything - embarrassment be damned.

"Yes," you pant, frustrated and needy, "but no one has ever kissed me there."

His eyes darken and a low groan rumbles in his throat. You can't tell if it's pleasure or disappointment, and before you can decide, he's moving off the couch.

You whine at the loss of contact, but he's already on his knees in front of you before you can complain. His hands grip your thighs, pulling you forward until your ass is on the edge of the cushion. You watch, breathless, as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your leggings and panties, and then begins dragging them down your thighs. You lift your hips to help him, and you don't miss the strangled sound that leaves his mouth when he sees your pussy - bare and wet and ready for him.

Pleasure then. Definitely a good sound.

"So perfect," He says under his breath, dragging his bottom lip between his teeth, his eyes glued to the sight between your thighs.

Xavier’s hands slowly rub up your bare legs, his touch gentle but possessive. He leans in to nuzzle his face against your inner thigh, dragging his nose over your skin, and inhales deeply. You start to tremble as he trails kisses higher up your thigh, pausing every so often to nip or gently suck.

“You always smell so good,” he murmurs between kisses.

A hot spike of embarrassment shoots through you as you realize he can smell you, smell just how wet you are, and a desperate sound somewhere between a whimper and a shy giggle leaves you.

Xavier’s kisses slow to a stop as he reaches the apex of your thighs, his breath catching as he looks up at you. His eyes are wide and his cheeks are flushed, the color creeping up to his ears, which are tinged pink. He looks almost achingly shy - uncertain but starving.

He's never done this before, you realize, and you open your mouth to say something - encouragement or instruction. But your words turn into a gasp as he nuzzles your clit. The tip of his nose brushes over the small bud of nerves, sending sparks of pleasure up through your body. 

Your fingers thread into his hair, gripping gently to guide his mouth to where you need it. And it takes all your control to stay still as his tongue teases your entrance, licking a slow, deliberate path upward until he finds your clit again

“Oh God,” you gasp, your fingers tangling even tighter in his hair. “Yes, Xav—right there. More…”

He hums low and pleased, sending vibrations all the way through your body. You can feel him smiling between your thighs as you buck up, trying desperately to push against the light pressure. He takes his time - lazily circling your clit with his tongue and lapping at it until you're a whimpering, writhing mess.

You're wondering how he could possibly be so good at this as he wraps his lips around your clit and sucks. Stars explode in your vision as the warm, wet heat of his mouth closes around you, and you think your soul would leave your body if he were not holding you down.

There's not enough air in your lungs as you moan and squirm under his mouth. You're dying - you think, but you don't especially care as long as he doesn't stop. You think he slips one, maybe two, fingers inside you at some point; you’re not certain. The feel of his mouth against you is so good that you can't process anything else; it's the only thing that exists.

“Xav, please. Please. I'm going-”

He nods, lips still wrapped around your clit, and the slight scrape of his teeth—just enough—sends you spiraling over the edge before you can finish your sentence. The heat coiled low in your belly erupts, flooding through every nerve as waves of pleasure ripple through you. Your hips press hard against his mouth, seeking more as your pussy convulses around his fingers.

Xavier doesn’t pull away as you moan and grind your pussy against his face. His mouth follows your movements, continuing to lick and suck as your orgasm begins to fade, your walls squeezing weakly against his fingers as aftershocks pulse through you.

He keeps licking and kissing you until the sensation is overwhelming, and you're forced to pull at his hair to escape from his hungry mouth. With a final, lingering kiss to your pussy, he slowly withdraws his fingers, and rests his cheek against your thigh as he catches his breath.

He looks as wrecked as you feel—his pupils dilated, hair disheveled from your touch, and his breath shallow as your wetness shines on his lips and chin. The way he looks at you, like he wants you so bad that it hurts, makes you want to give him everything and more.

You watch as he licks his lips, savoring the taste of you, before slowly sucking on the fingers that were inside you.

"Xavier," You choke out his name as your soul really does leave your body this time. You are dying. This beautiful man is killing you, and the last thing you will see before the light at the end of the tunnel is him sucking on those fingers as his cock strains against his jeans.

But there's no way in heaven or hell that you can die without seeing him, touching him, tasting him.

"You're mine now," He whispers, dragging his mouth along your thigh, "only mine."

"I was already yours," you say in a breathless rush, tugging at his arm, any lingering shyness fading as urgency takes over.

He rises to his feet and his lips finds yours instantly. The kiss is deep and wet, and you taste good in his mouth.

Your hands fumble blindly on the button of his jeans. You finally manage to get his pants unzipped, and he groans against your mouth as you slip your hand inside to palm his cock through the cotton of his boxers. He’s so thick and hard that your fingers barely meet around him.

His breath catches at your touch, and needy desperate sounds come out of his mouth as you stroke him through the fabric.

"Please, I need..." he begs, his voice breathless as his hands move quickly to strip off his boxers and pants. He kicks them aside, and before you can fully take in the sight of him, he’s pushing you back onto the couch and climbing on top of you.

"What do you need, Xav?" You ask, reaching between your bodies to wrap your hand around his hard length. It's so silky and hot, and it twitches in your hand when you swipe your thumb over the tip, slick with precum.

"I need..." He says again, burying his face against your neck and rocking his hips to thrust into your fist hard.

You’re waiting, praying, and hoping he’ll say he needs to be inside you. You've never been more ready in your life and the slide of him against your hand has you ready to beg him for it. But then he moans deeply against your neck and you feel warm, wet heat spilling over your hand, coating your stomach.

Oh.

He collapses on top of you, burying his face into the curve of your shoulder, hiding his face as he catches his breath. His chest rises and falls with the intensity of it, and a rush of pure, tender affection floods through you. You wrap your arms around him, holding him close, fighting the urge to laugh at the sweetness of the moment.

"That was... I’m..." he mumbles.

"Perfect," You finish for him. "You're perfect. And that was perfect."

He breathes out a laugh against your neck, then lifts himself on one arm to look down at you. A smile spreads across his face as his eyes meet yours, and in this moment, he looks lighter—happier than you’ve ever seen him.

He looks free.

[m-jelly]

Hello again jelly👋!! I saw you said you have watch x-men and deadpool and Wolverine. so I have an idea for Levi x reader one-shot. So the reader is like wolverine sha has adamantium claws and healing ability basically heal herself, maybe a little Savage attitude, but she is caring to the younger Cadets, so anyway in the story, Levi, hange and erwin they heard criminal Underground but they also heard this person is a mutant so they went to the Underground to convince the reader to join...

Pain and claws.

Levi x fem reader

Canon world, x-men inspired, mutants,

The scouts aim to recruit you for your abilities and remove you from the underground city.

"Focus." Erwin fixed his uniform. "This one is a bit different from Levi."

Levi frowned. "Tch, how?"

Hange adjusted her goggles. "She has claws."

"Claws?"

Erwin walked to the top of the stairs and looked out at the underground. "She can heal rather fast, " he said, adjusting his gear. "Let's move out."

The three of them flew across the city. As they flew Levi couldn't stop thinking about the past. The city still stank like it did before and the people looked rotten and wicked. It brought him no joy to be back and the sooner he found you, the better. He didn't know who you were, he'd never heard of you before and never saw you around the city.

After flying for a bit they saw you in a courtyard with a few thugs around you. The three of them landed on a roof and watched for a bit, they wanted to see what you could do. Erwin was interested in your skills and Hanges was fascinated by you.

Levi panicked when he saw you get punched then another man stabbed you. "Shit!" He flew down to the rescue. "Tch, damn fuckers!"

You spat out blood and smirked. "I'm gonna make this hurt real bad" You punched up and rammed your claws up and through the bottom of your attacker's jaw. "Was that as good for you as it was for me, sweetheart?" You yanked the claws out before twisting and cutting another attacker's hand off. "I warned you all!"

"H-How is she not dead?" one gulped with fear. "You stabbed her!"

"Why don't you stab me some more and we can work things out together, huh?"

Levi stood between you and the men. "Tch, save it for later."

You pouted a little. "Oh look, it's the fucking scouts here to save the day. I don't need you."

He glanced back at you. "You wanna get out of this shithole, then work with me."

You growled. "Fine. Let's work together pretty boy."

Levi's cheeks burned. "Pretty boy?"

While Levi was in a daze, you raced ahead and slashed your way through the surrounding gang. It wasn't long after you fought them that Levi started cutting through them like they were nothing. Both of you worked seamlessly together like you were connected on a special level. It was clear that the two of you and unique abilities as a result of experiments on your families.

When the battle was over, you quickly moved through the city with your new friend until you were at the exit. Seeing the three of them leave filled you with anxiety. Your life had always been this city underground, but now you were being led outside it was confusing and scary.

Levi turned to you. "It's okay."

Your shoulders dropped. "How do you know?"

"I'm from the underground city. I was pulled out and now I live and work above."

You stared at him, your eyes searching for a trace of a lie but found only the truth. "I'll go, but..."

Levi liked to be clean and he knew your hands were covered in blood from the men you hurt, but he knew you needed support. As he gazed at you, this strong woman, he saw the cracks that revealed the pain and the hurt. To Levi, you were a beautiful and strong woman, but you were pained. For a moment, he felt his heart flutter in a way that it had never done before. He knew that in time something could blossom between the two of you and the way you were shying away a little, he could tell you felt something for him.

He offered his hand and pushed down his need to clean. "Take my hand. I'll be with you every step of the way."

"I..."

"It's Levi and I won't let anyone hurt you."

You gave your name and paused in thought. "You can't promise that you know? About not letting anyone hurt me. Humans hurt other humans because it's fun for them. They're the most cruel being there is."

Levi stepped down towards you. "They're shits, all of them are shits, but there are some good ones. Let me help you." He tilted his head. "Don't let others know, but I know what it's like to be scared and have everyone think you're this unstoppable monster. It's a lonely place, but now we have each other."

You reached over and grabbed his hand. "Okay, I'm with you."

He gave you a rare smile before pulling you up and out of the underground city. "Careful of your eyes."

It was painful at first, the light was just so blinding and your skin tingled, but with time your body started to adjust a little to the sun. A soft fabric caressed your skin and something was plopped on your head. You lifted your head a little as Levi stood before you adjusting his green scout cloak on you.

Levi wiggled the hood a little. "It's a lot."

You hummed. "I'll get it dirty and I got your hand dirty."

"I can wash. I like cleaning, so this is fine." He pulled back and sighed. "Better?"

You nodded. "You're doing too much for someone like me."

"I want to do more."

"Thank you."

Levi took your hand again and moved you towards his colleagues. "I'll care for her. She's strong like I am. I'll guide her."

Hange smirked. "Plus, you get a pretty view."

Levi went bright red. "Shut it four eyes!"

Erwin chuckled. "Welcome to the scouts." He softly smiled. "Levi seems rather taken with you." The two of you watched Hange and Levi fight a little. "He's a good man." He looked back at you when you offered your name. "Erwin and that's Hange. We'll take care of you, but I think Levi wants that as his full-time job. You two look good together."

You hugged yourself a little. "Mm."

"I look forward to seeing you in training. I think you'll be an exceptional member of the scouts and a good friend."

You smiled softly. "I hope that too."

Levi stormed over. "Hey, she's mine."

Erwin smiled. "That so?"

A blush returned to Levi's cheeks. "Y-Yes. Oi, brat? Or should I call you cat or kitten? You're like one."

You hummed a laugh. "Guess I am."

"Focus on me, not him. Now, let's get you home because you need a wash."

You smiled as Levi grabbed your hand again. "Yes, Levi."

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a @youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity @nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08 @levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife @demonic-bird @searriously @anti-cupid @abiatackerman

[tokoyamisstuff]

lmaoo tasteful was the last thing I would've ever imagined to hear about my work. This humble writer is absolutely flattered by your words, thank you! 🫶

gn! Reader I general NSFW warning

Considering the literal centuries of experience this guy has ahead of you, this sure is gonna be an otherworldly experience...in more than one way.

Don't be nervous, though. He's a patient lover and eager to teach you new things. Will start slow and vanilla, taking all the time to look what works out for both of you.

In general the nights you spend with him are very carefree, filled with laughter and pleasant conversation in between or even during the act(s).

This man plays your body like an instrument. His heightened senses make it an easy task to observe every little reaction your body presents him, especially if he's able to give you an immediate gratification through it. Probably knows you better than you do (at least in that sense). Think you can only come once? Think again.

Definetly hypersexual. He'll use literally any opportunity to get it on with you: Sparring, arguments, even during missions he'll find an opportunity for his favourite pastime. Never leaves you unsatisfied, no matter the circumstance or how little time you have.

Prefers long and intimate rendezvous over quickies however, since he takes great pride in indulging you. He's quite the romantic, enjoys preparing the whole package: An amazing date, the perfect atmosphere, and of course a cozy bedroom. Nothing's too much effort if it comes to see your eyes light with wonder...and lust, later on.

Loves variety. I think there's nothing too freaky you could ask of him, he'd at least be willing to try it out. There's nothing really off table, but also nothing he absolutely wants you to do. You'll find a lot of common ground.

I mean did you see his tongue?? His oral game is gonna be insane.

He's not really fond of toys. Being rather possessive in general, he wants to be the direct cause for your pleasure. The only exception are remote controlled ones. It's so fun being able to tease you like that, observing how you try to keep it together during a meeting of the roundtable or similar.

The vampire is obsessed with imperfections. Scars, beauty marks, even extending to dacryphilia. Anything that makes you human is just so fascinating and desireable to him.

He's a biter wow what a surprise. The taste of your blood gives him an intense feeling of ecstasy, but he'd never go overboard with his cravings. In return I figure his abilities have a hypnotizing reaction on your body as well, giving you an overwhelming sensitivity in return.

Sometimes he's unable to keep his form, especially when deep in pleasure. Suddenly you're enveloped by black mist or stared at by a little too many eyes. At first he was very concerned to disgust or scare you away, but once he sees you react with a surprising acceptance - or even affection - he's over the moon.

Those shapeshifting skills could be used to your advantage in more than one way. He can easily adjust his size according to your wish or even fuck you from several directions at once. Really, there's no limits to your fantasies, let them run wild.

To be honest I think he's got a praise kink and is a sub at least in a certain way. Maybe because in every other aspect of his existence he's the peak of evolution, an almost omnipotent eldritch horror, always dominating. So being able to let himself fall like this, showing himself bare and vulnerable and giving himself to you body and soul, is just the greatest thrill he's ever felt.

Alucard's whole motivation is to serve his lover over anything, devoting himself to your worship.