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wvffles · 3 days ago

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ohhhhhhhhh goshhh 😩 the anticipation continuessss

“And I had an angel standing over me,” he added, his eyes growing heavy. Guilty. “A bona fide angel. She’d stitched me up, she told me. She also told me I was lucky to be alive. The doc wanted to toe tag me and be done with it, but she thought I still had some fight left in me.” “She was my anchor,” he said. “After it was all said and done, she followed me here, held my feet down to the ground. Sometimes she had to hammer me down, ya know.”

the fact that this is how he sees their story, yet he's still chosen to be a dirty lying no good scoundrel really grinds my gears. like he needed to forget his name? I could smack him with a frying pan rapunzel style for the same effect lol

“I’m the guy who can’t die,” he muttered.

my immediate thought was well try harder 😭 and i did feel bad for a second, then I finished the chapter…i stand by my statement 😅

You marveled that you could smile at all, but it was only thanks to Dean Winchester.

so real lmaoo

her inner conflict tugged at my heartstrings, i'm just glad she's giving herself some grace at least <3 it’s a difficult situation all around

the flowers!!! 😩 oh dean :( and michael is truly a classic douche like sir you cannot just magically make it better with some flowers and dinner 🙂‍↔️🤚🏽

Each position captured was more compromising than the next between Michael and Dolores Daye. Apparently, he was paying most of her bills as well with your combined household funds. So part of your own money was financing his exploits.

i would get so violent are you kiddingg meeeee

it’s bad enough he’s sleeping with a floozy on the regular but to take his wife’s money as well to fund that is actually beyond ballsy and insane. i hate them, justice for my girl fr 🫶🏽:(

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. “That’s good…but, I need to head home for a little while.”

ngl I had to put my phone down for a moment and yell into a pillow because dean, what the hell man 😩

“Really. When did you figure that one out, in the whole week you’ve known me?” he asked. It was harsher than he meant to be, but he couldn’t help the words that were spilling out of his mouth. “Didn’t that get you in trouble the first time? I’d a thought you would’ve learned your lesson by now.”

oh dean, getting stabbed would’ve probably hurt less

He pulled you back into him, but you looked away from his imploring gaze. Your breaths grew shallow while you tried in vain to stop yourself from crying. It damn well broke his heart.

mine’s breaking too dean 😔 i’m just glad he’s trying to ‘fix it’ somewhat immediately instead of just letting her leave like that.

Except that you realized…this was goodbye. So you took advantage of every second of it.

yeah my heart is definitely broken 🥺 i’m glad they didn’t end things off with hostility and got to have that bittersweet moment at least 😔

Sam stared back at him, still with that frown. His guilt and reluctance to see Dean go was reflected in his eyes; those sad puppy dog eyes that used to get him out of almost any punishment with their parents when the boys were young. Before.

oh they’d work on me for sure 😭

Before Dean could get into the cab, Sam stopped him. Their gazes met, but in that moment, no words were needed.

They pulled one another into a firm hug.

…

Afterwards, Sam watched the yellow cab take his brother away to the train station, feeling a weight in his heart that wouldn’t subside.

He would never know that Dean felt exactly the same way. Except that impossible weight felt a lot like your hand, gently laid over his heart.

my heart aches, this chapter was so sad 😩 (not in a bad way!!🫶🏽) I feel for all three of them 😔🤍

“I just took a closer look at Milligan’s finances,” he said. “Before you go, there’s something you might want to know.”

ahhhhhh the cliffhanger! i’m guessing he found something illegal and/or dangerous 🤔 the preview is making me anxiousss, he better not hurt her! 😩

this was a wonderful chapter, very excited to see the drama unfold!!💗💗

BETWEEN THE CITY & THE STARS - Part 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

AN: Now we get into the aftermath of the night before, with all the insecurity and heartbreak to go along with it. 💙

Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Historical Epic

Song Inspo: “Danke Shoen” by Wayne Newton

Word Count: 4K

Tags/Warnings: Mentions of cheating, angsty angst, trauma/PTSD, and a cliffhanger…

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Part 4: Complicit

Sam would give Michael one thing. The guy damn well knew how to drink.

He didn’t stop all night, throwing back whiskey like it was cheap beer. His words began to slur, his movements sloppy, but he was still coherent. When he got up to visit the men’s restroom, Sam got up as well. Maybe he could get Michael talking.

Sam stopped the other man from tripping into the urinal. The two laughed it off, with Michael thanking him before he unzipped to finish his business. Sam did the same.

After washing their hands, Sam looked over and noticed Michael’s gaze lingering on his own reflection in the mirror. It was becoming a rough sight—his blonde hair no longer neatly coiffed, purplish rings under his eyes, the stench of alcohol clinging to his skin and clothing.

“You all right there, Milligan?” Sam asked.

Michael ran a hand over his face, sighing when it didn’t get any better.

“Fine,” he replied. “So, Winchester. What did you say you do for work again? Something about your own business?”

Sam nodded. “I started up a law firm.”

That much, he had to be honest about. It was all too easy for someone to look up his name in the directory.

“Sounds like a good outfit,” Michael said, with an incline of his head. “Every lawyer I know wears a Rolex.”

Sam chuckled, glancing down at his father’s watch. “Well, I’m not quite there yet.”

“Someday soon, I’m sure,” said Michael. He bumped Sam conspiringly on the shoulder.

“And you?” Sam asked. “What’s keeping the lights on at your place?”

Michael raised a hand to sort through his unruly hair, a dirtier blonde in this unflattering light.

“Well, you could say I’ve inherited a business of my own,” he said. “I run a meat packing plant down in the district.”

Sam’s attention piqued. There had been a meat rationing during the war, even some rumors and propaganda about “meatleggers,” black market operators.

“How’s it been with the rations?” Sam asked. “Been hard to even find a good carton of eggs lately.”

Michael gave him a slight smile. “Been on the turnaround, actually. I’ve been able to make some connections with vendors outside the city. A little grease on the palms makes a little go a long way, if you catch my drift.”

Sam slowly smiled and nodded. A little grease on the palms, huh?

“Do what you gotta do in the times, ‘s what I say,” Sam agreed.

Michael snorted. “Now you’re talkin’. That’s all we can do, you know. Try to make a thing work, with whatever scraps we get. Try to stay afloat.”

“Try to stay alive,” Sam rejoined.

Michael made a low sound of approval. He became more contemplative, crossing his arms as he once again glanced at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. Sam’s gaze on the other man was perceptive, gaining ever closer to what seemed to be eating at the very core of him. Whether Sam actually believed what he was saying or not, each of his words was a test, a subtle nudge.

“You know,” Michael said. “I was shot down in France.”

Sam sobered further. Leaning against the counter, he retrieved two cigarettes and a lighter. He didn’t often smoke, but he thought it might keep the other man talking. He handed one over to Michael, and he took it gratefully. They lit up together and coiled musky tobacco smoke into the air.

“Where?” Sam asked.

Michael snorted, huffing a bit of smoke. “Lord knows. But when I woke up, I had stitches from here to here.”

He gestured to the back of his head, all the way to above his brow. It explained a small, but noticeable scar near his temple.

Michael shook his head. “The next chance I got, I married her.”

Sam’s brows rose. He knew you had been a nurse, but he hadn’t known this part of your story.

“A wartime romance, huh?” he said. Michael quirked a smile.

“She was my anchor,” he said. “After it was all said and done, she followed me here, held my feet down to the ground. Sometimes she had to hammer me down, ya know.”

He hesitated, his eyes somewhat glazing over. He stared over Sam’s shoulder at something only he could see.

“But sometimes…sometimes an anchor just feels suffocating,” he said. “Sometimes, you need to forget your own damn name. Forget that your entire life and mortgage is in a warehouse that might as well be a freezer full a’ dead cow meat. And still, it smells a hell of a lot better than lying on a dirty cot—where the last guy who had your spot probably got his leg sawed off.”

Michael considers the cigarette in his hand for a long while before he takes another puff.

Sam exhales smoke as well. He spent the last three years behind a desk, but he sees the same shaken core in Michael Milligan that he too often sees in his older brother.

“You know, Winchester, there’s two kinds of men,” Michael said, just a hint of a slur in his voice. “The ones who pray to live…and the ones who beg for it to be over.”

“And what kind of man are you now?” Sam asked. His tone was loose, but his gaze was sharp.

Michael snorted. He dabbed the butt of his cigarette on the inside of the sink before he threw it away.

“I’m the guy who can’t die,” he muttered.

He rolled his shoulders, as if to let the weight of his words and everything that came along with them to roll off his back. Then he pushed his way out of the bathroom, leaving Sam considering more than just half a cigarette.

That night after Dean left, you slept in the guest room instead of your bed. You couldn’t even bring yourself to sleep next to Michael when he stumbled in at four in the morning, especially now that you had seen his game with your own eyes.

However, you also felt complicit yourself the next morning. You felt…ashamed. You took your vows seriously. You had never in your life thought you would be someone so brazen. You never thought you would dishonor your husband as well as yourself.

And yet. All while you got ready for work, hearing Michael’s snores from the other room, your mind was filled with warmth and memory—of Dean. His smile, his voice, his eyes, his lips, and of course, his hands. You couldn’t decide which of them was your favorite, but his hands were high on the list.

You shouldn’t have let him in, you reminded yourself. You nibbled on your lower lip while you prepped the coffee maker. You should have told him goodnight at the door and saw him off. You should very well not have invited him up to the apartment, let alone drank with him, or let him touch you…

You paused while the sound of percolation and the smell of fresh coffee filled the kitchen. You looked up at yourself in the small mirror that hung on the wall. The woman looking back at you was conflicted at best.

Yes, you felt guilty. But at the same time, you didn’t. Was it really betraying your marriage if your husband had been doing far worse, and for God knew how long?

No. This wasn’t a marriage. This was a sham. A mockery of the very thing.

You frowned angrily and almost slammed the carafe on the counter when the coffee was done. Forcing yourself to take a few steadying breaths, you allowed that hate and anger to slowly drain out of you, and you smiled.

You marveled that you could smile at all, but it was only thanks to Dean Winchester.

What the hell am I doing?

Dean stared at the two bouquets of flowers. One was a bound bunch of red roses, the other was wildflowers and other colorful ones he didn’t know the names of. He was having a hard time deciding, namely because he didn’t know what kind of flowers you liked.

Because after all, he barely knew you.

He sighed down at the roses. They were pretty, but expensive. He could imagine your surprise, followed by your smile—the one that actually lit up your eyes and changed your whole face, made you sweeter, almost shy.

I’m buying flowers for a married woman.

The thought managed to make him pause, with a rough exhale of breath. The truth was, he’d crossed the line with you. More than once.

The hard part about it was, he didn’t really care. He did wonder if you cared.

He wondered if you’d be embarrassed to see him again. He wondered if you wanted to keep last night a memory, and nothing more. He wondered if he was better off booking his train home now, and leaving some kind of note for you with Sam. Dean didn’t think he wanted to see that look of mortification on your face, the whiskey finally cleared from your mind to see what he really was: a man with no job, no commitments, and very little prospects on the horizon.

“Ah, ‘scuse me,” a young man said from Dean’s left side.

“Oh, sorry,” Dean said, making way for the guy. He wasn’t quite as tall as Dean, lithe, blonde, and blue-eyed. He grabbed an arrangement of blue and yellow iris flowers from the case and took it up to the front. The florist seemed to recognize him.

“Oh, Michael! Been a while since I’ve seen you,” he said.

When the florist asked about you as well, the mention of your name rang between Dean’s ears. A feeling like inky claws raked through his chest; he raised his head from the roses and finally recognized Michael Milligan. He was the same man Dean had spotted in your wedding pictures hanging on the wall last night, right in the foyer.

“She’s all right,” Michael chuckled. “Truth be told, I’ve been working late this week. Hoping to surprise her tonight, take her out to dinner. Somewhere nice, you know.”

“Oh, really? Why don’t you take her to that nice steakhouse off of Broadway…” the florist twittered on as he continued to ring up Michael’s order.

Anger and disgust prickled under Dean’s skin, his fists clenched at his sides. More than anything, he wanted to turn around and lay your husband out flat. If he thought one little bouquet and a Salisbury steak was going to wash him clean, then he was an idiot as well as a selfish bastard.

But Dean knew, deep down, that Michael would be just as justified to throw a swing right back at him.

So Dean left the flowers, the flower shop, and the entire busy street and all its blaring sounds behind.

During your lunch break, you quickly made the trek over to Sam’s office. He’d called you this morning with a story that only confirmed everything you’d inherently felt, and yet, some of it still managed to shock you.

You didn’t even have the patience to wait until after work, but when you got there, he reassured you. It had taken him a few rounds of poker and discreetly following Michael and Dolores after they exited through the back of the club…but Sam had gotten the evidence not long after. They weren’t exactly discreet in the alley. Or in the nearby motel.

You had the envelope in hand filled with the pictures he’d developed from his camera.

“You don’t have to look,” he advised. “I wouldn’t recommend it.”

“No, I want to see it,” you said. You took the pictures out, and your expression didn’t change as you look through them all. Each position captured was more compromising than the next between Michael and Dolores Daye. Apparently, he was paying most of her bills as well with your combined household funds. So part of your own money was financing his exploits.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said. He was sincere, with those hazel eyes of his.

You nodded and gave him back the envelope. “What’s next?”

“I went ahead and filed the petition. I’ll take this right to the clerk’s office myself.”

“How long will it take to be over?”

“As long as Michael plays along, should be quick. A few months at most, after he’s served the divorce papers and signs them,” Sam assured.

A few months? That wasn’t quick enough in your book, but you agreed with a nod. You got up from the chair opposite his desk. You hesitated there.

“Oh, I meant to ask…how’s your brother?” you said.

Sam began to smile, but he tempered it. “He just called before you came in. He let me know he was stepping out for a walk.”

“Oh, really? Did he happen to say where?”

You not only found Dean in Central Park, but close to the very same bench you two had sat on yesterday and talked the night away. He was surprised, but he smiled when he saw you. Your pace quickened, until you were hastening over to him. He welcomed you into his arms. He bent his head towards yours, stopping just shy of kissing you. Instead, he pressed his forehead to yours for a moment.

“Well, look who’s here?” he teased. “How’d you find me?”

“I stopped by Sam’s office,” you said, holding onto the lapels of his coat. A cold November wind pushed at you both, ruffling your clothes. “The paperwork is on its way. Soon enough, I won’t be a married woman anymore.”

He tucked a wild strand of hair behind your ear and smiled, but it didn’t altogether reach his eyes.

“How soon is soon?” he asked.

“A few months, according to your brother.”

Dean nodded, taking a deep breath. “That’s good…but, I need to head home for a little while.”

That made you pause, tilting your head in confusion. Though you supposed it made sense. He was only here visiting his brother. He was planning on going home eventually.

But surely, that was before we… You lowered your gaze.

“Back to Lawrence?” you asked. Again, he nodded.

“I need to take care of some things, figure out my next move,” he said.

You pulled away from him to brace yourself, and not just against the cold. “Well, when will you be back?”

He stayed quiet, worrying you even more. There was a deep pit forming in your stomach, churning with unease.

“Dean?” you prodded.

He stepped back in to grasp your arms gently.

“Sweetheart…the truth is, I don’t have much to offer you,” he said. “I don’t have a business to inherit from my folks. I don’t even have a job. I’m a man who was about as useful as a jackhammer, until the war ended.”

You frowned, resting a hand against his chest. “Dean Winchester, that’s not all there is to you.”

You snatched your hand back, hurt filling your eyes. You turned to walk away before he saw your tears. You should have known. You should have known a man like him would never be serious. Not about you.

As soon as he let the words go, Dean realized what he was doing. Yeah, he was frustrated, but it wasn’t aimed at you. It couldn’t be aimed at you.

God knew he didn’t want to hurt you, or for you to hate him. He really couldn’t stomach either thought, so he relented and reached out to grab at your hand, before you could get too far.

“Wait,” he said, managing to pull you back to him. “I’m sorry.”

You tugged your hand to try and free yourself from his grasp.

“You know what, maybe you’re right,” you said, your voice wobbling with anger, dismay, and tears. “Maybe I ought to stop letting a man get even an inch into my heart. At this point, it’s my own fault.”

“Stop,” Dean demanded. “No, it’s not.”

He pulled you back into him, but you looked away from his imploring gaze. Your breaths grew shallow while you tried in vain to stop yourself from crying. It damn well broke his heart.

“It’s not your fault. I’m just an idiot,” He cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears as they fell. “But you…you deserve to be happy. With a man that can take care of you, protect you. A man who has a little more of his life figured out.”

“You’re just saying that so you have an excuse for toying with me. So you can keep chasing skirts,” you said, pushing at his chest. “Yes, your brother told me about all your little exploits.”

Dean took the blow, both proverbial and physical, with a raise of his brows. He guessed he couldn’t blame you for that one. Still, the disdain behind your words stung. He allowed you to break free of him.

You stepped back and straightened your clothes. You took in a deep breath that did nothing to calm you, and you uttered a humorless laugh.

“I suppose it makes sense. Why would you want anything to do with me?” You gestured down at yourself with a dismissive hand. “A-a walking mess. Even when I am divorced, that’s how people will see me. Damaged goods. I don’t even know how I’m gonna tell my parents.”

You covered your face against Dean and the rest of the world, and after weeks and months, you finally allowed yourself the one thing you hadn’t since your first inkling that your husband was being unfaithful. You finally allowed yourself to break.

The first sob shuddered through your body, followed by hot tears. You squeezed your eyes against them and wiped at your face in vain.

Dean broke too, in his own way. He gathered you into his arms, where he shushed you gently and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“I wasn’t giving you an excuse,” he said.

Despite how much you wanted to push him away, the deep, steady timbre of his voice pierced you and soothed you at the same time.

“I meant every word I said. I may not be the right guy for you, but don’t you dare take a scrap of what anyone else might say, you hear me?” he said firmly. “You’re beautiful. You don’t suffer fools like me, and you’re better than that sad sack excuse of a man deserves.”

You looked up at him with watery eyes.

“You’re a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but you’re not a fool.”

He shook his head, not wanting to argue with you anymore. He just kissed you, deeply, thoroughly, the way you always imagined a kiss should be.

Except that you realized…this was goodbye. So you took advantage of every second of it.

You met him with as much as he gave and reached up to touch his cheek. It felt a little rough under your fingers, just like you remembered. You would probably always remember that feeling, long after you left the park.

That evening, you packed as many bags as you could. You put together the savings you’d been collecting for a few months. It had been at your coworker Jess’s advice, ever since you started feeling the inkling that something wasn’t right in your marriage.

After you were all packed, you took one last, long look at the space you had tried to make your home. With one last tear trailing your cheek, you stepped out of the apartment. You took the bus uptown, where you later checked into a hotel.

When your husband finally got home from work, he would find a one-page letter written in your own hand.

For once, Sam was actually home in his apartment. He was helping Dean take his suitcase to the front door after calling a taxi to come shortly. Sam wasn’t happy about it though.

“You don’t have to go so soon, Dean,” said Sam.

Dean gave a humorless laugh. He grabbed his coat from the rack and threw it on.

“I’ve gotta get back to the house. It’s already been empty too long,” he said. Three years too long. “Fact is, I’m just getting in your way here.”

He couldn’t quite meet Sam’s eyes as he went to the door, but Sam stopped him with a pressing hand on his arm, tugging him back.

“Hey,” Sam said, his brows furrowed. “That’s not true. Where’d you get that idea?”

Dean raised his brows. “You mean the way you’ve haven’t been home more than a few hours a night? The way the only time I see you is if I go find you at that office. You should open up a Bed n’ Breakfast there. You’d make a double killing in this town.”

Sam wilted. “Dean, we opened the firm barely a month ago. I’m just trying to—”

Dean laid a hand on his shoulder, relenting.

“Hey, look. I’m not judging you, Sammy. I’m not,” he said. “You’re building something. I know that. I just need to go figure out how to do the same, whatever that means for me.”

The corner of Dean’s mouth kicked up into a smirk.

“Don’t worry. I’ll see you again soon,” he said.

“How soon is soon?” Sam asked. It was something their mother used to say to John whenever he called late, promising he’d come home after long days in town buying supplies for the farm.

“The divorce papers will be served to Michael Milligan,” Sam added, pointedly raising his brows. “She…could use your support.”

Dean’s smile faded at the mention of you. His hand slipped from Sam’s shoulder.

“She’s got a strong head on her shoulders. She’ll be all right,” he said. He heard the honk of the taxi outside. He grabbed up his hat, set it on his head, and took up his bags. He turned back to Sam at the last moment. “I’m sure you’ll look out for her.”

It was somehow both a question, and an imploring charge. Sam sighed, but he nodded in agreement. His brother could be so very stubborn. Once he got an idea of what he thought he needed to do, there was almost no talking him out of it.

Sam opened the door for him and walked him out to the car, helping him with his bags. Before Dean could get into the cab, Sam stopped him. Their gazes met, but in that moment, no words were needed.

They pulled one another into a firm hug.

I’m sorry. I should’ve been there more for you.

Don’t worry about it. It’s already forgotten.

Dean released him first with a smile, and a heavy pat of Sam’s shoulder. He turned and climbed into the cab’s backseat. Afterwards, Sam watched the yellow cab take his brother away to the train station, feeling a weight in his heart that wouldn’t subside.

He would never know that Dean felt exactly the same way. Except that impossible weight felt a lot like your hand, gently laid over his heart.

Dean took up his suitcase as the train pulled into the station. He stepped up onto the platform and retrieved the ticket from his pocket, but he paused, hearing a familiar voice shouting his name.

He turned his head and saw Sam rushing to meet him at the platform.

“What’s the matter? What’re you doing here?” Dean asked in surprise. He didn’t like the wary apprehension written across Sam’s face.

“I just took a closer look at Milligan’s finances,” he said. “Before you go, there’s something you might want to know.”

AN: Come on, we needed at least one cliffhanger in this series! 😘 What do you think Sam rushed over to tell Dean? What did you think about their "goodbye," as well as her and Dean's goodbye? ...And are you ready for all the drama that's about to go down? lol

Next Time:

Except the loud, insistent knock on the door broke you out of your thoughts. Straightening up with a frown, you set down your glass and went over to the door. Maybe it was Housekeeping coming up to bring you the fresh towels you asked for. The ones that had been laid out in the bathroom smelled musty.

You opened the door to a tall frame taking up room in the doorway. It was Michael, standing there both disheveled and steaming mad. He held your letter crumpled in his left hand.

“Michael, what—what’re you doing here?” you gasped and stepped back. He followed you inside the room and slammed it shut. He looked around at your open suitcases in disbelief, then finally at you.

“What’s this supposed to mean, huh?” he demanded to know. He shook the flimsy piece of paper at you.

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bleedingichorhearts · 3 days ago

Text

𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐫

“I just changed the titles. The first one is a prologue. This is more set in the future, but that should be clear with how the chapter changes? I mean, last one is prologue. Here’s an continuation after about a year.😭” - Ichor

Summary - “Simply walking the halls of a defective mansion. You are suddenly met with new things.”

“@kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @sleepyfan-blog.”

“+@c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @marcela2000.” - Tagged

TW // Neglect, Predator.

|°𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕃𝕚𝕤𝕥°| • {Prologue} • {Chapter II}

Your hands are behind your back as you walk straight down one of the mansions corridors. A gleaming white tile glaring at you each time you pass and wide window that brings in a reflective glare of the sun into the home. Something you honestly hate of this modern mansion. Too much white for your tastes, and well the people that lived inside of it, but that couldn’t be clear enough already. Yet, your not one to purely judge people and nature itself- Well… unless those Golden Knights count as something… unnatural.

Its weird though, you have never really addressed them as their original titles: Adeptus Custodes or just Custodes in short. You have just been mentally calling them “Golden Knights.” Your pretty sure it was because you practically grew up under their eyes, and your younger, innocent self couldn’t fathom nor pronounce Adeptus Custodies. So your little mind settled on what was closer: Golden Knights. Knights also had happened to one of the things you admired then and well now. Admittedly, you like to think of a more… characteristic knight now since you figured out how exactly knights where back in the 12th century. It was a very stark contrast between a little fairytale and the real thing. All the more reason to avoid the Golden Knights though. You’re not sure how they act besides being annoying statues, and trying to follow you are despite your inner turmoil.

Maybe you should just settle for a War World II soldier instead? At least they cared for their nurses… Well, in the movies they did. You didn’t have enough information in written history to claim such. Maybe that is something you could figure out in the time being? Learn a bit more about War World II? You know you have heard of the Astarte's being first sighted there… Maybe that will allow you to get more information on the Golden Knights in your home er- household? No, those words don’t seem right to call this false security of a home…

You pause in your steps; in the middle of the hallway. Your head slightly down as you eye the shiny tile. Your mind in a sudden deep thought. What would you even call this household? Certainly not the Last name of the family, the blood is too mixed and… judging. You felt like they didn’t even deserve the honor of a last name. So, what would you call this… corruption?

‘Dysfunctional? Toxic? Tumultuous? Unstable?’ You almost amuse yourself with those definition's.

“Auntie?” A little, childish voice brings you out of your thoughts. Blinking, your back straightens up a bit again at your other- rather only friendly title you’ve been called here. Eyes flickering down to a little girl behind you, no more than 4 years old. Her wavy, strawberry hair stopping at just her shoulders; her sea green eyes innocent of youth. “Little Eden” you like to call her- mentally. Selectively mute you chosen to be. If you can’t talk in the home; voice your opinion's… Why bother talking at all?

You remember the first time you had met little Eden though. How her little fingers, grasped around your pointer finger while she tried to eat at her other hand, slobbering all over it. Her little cheeks chubby with cute fat, and her eyes a bit puffy with the cry’s for attention she desperately needed. Yet, she seemed to calm at your mere presence. Quieting down to soft sounds of nibbles. A few gnawing “yah, yah, yahs” leaving her. It would have been cute sight if it weren’t for the thought of the whys and hows she was crying for attention in the first place.

You were simply wandering the night halls of the mansion again. A routine you usually do to keep yourself and other things in check. Another party being hosted by your father as the walls thrum with vibrations, and through all that noise? You can hear a faint cry of displeasure. A cry of a newborn that you knew that was, and had come into the world, but just was never allowed to the hospital to see the brith of the new addition. So, you had to settle on patiently waiting for the time you would be able to see her without the foul glares and words of the family that might change her perspective of you at day one. It just… wasn’t a risk you were willing to take just to see someone new, but that wasn’t the thing you were most worried about. It was how the child was crying their heart out, wanting, seeking, needing attention. Their parent no where in sight, no doubt joining that damn party, and you’re not sure what scares you. The child’s obvious neglect or how you feel like you would be another failure to someone else. Even if they weren’t supposed to rely on you.

You sigh out, trying to calm your thoughts before your body would start to shake in anxiety. A hum leaving you to acknowledge the little one behind you. Your body turning a bit to give her your attention. Her eyes brightening up at your simple movements after she rubbed her eyes with her palms. Your eyes flickering to the shimmer of gold behind her, ignoring the… What was he again? A Shadow Keeper? Did she just wake up from a nap?

“Hi, auntie!” She greets you again, bounding up to you on her little legs. Her hands coming out to grasp at your pants. A huge smile on her face, and you’re not sure of what to make of it. No one has ever smiled so brightly at you before. Your brain thinks “logically;” to protect yourself, even from a child, thinking this was a trick. While your heart craves for such actions. Yet, you know better to have your heart to lead you, but it doesn’t mean you would neglect anything- anyone that would show you a smidge of kindness in this chaotic world.

Your eyes flicker over to the Shadow Keeper again. His form slow, basking in the shadows that a part of their armor seamlessly absorbs. His red visor softly glowing, even in the brightest areas, and it never fails to pull a shiver down your spine. These beings were so unnerving, but they have shown nothing to… oppose that. Opposite, really? You think? The people just somehow accept these… things that just appear out of no where, didn’t they think that was a bit suspicious? You weren’t at all judgmental of them nor combatant of them. You just wanted to know their origin, their purpose. Everything has it purpose you believe, but you can’t find anything to support your own ideals of them. Not even with the normal Astarte's. You just find they are kind of like different species: Primaris Marines, first-born, Iron Warrior’s to Salamander's…

Ugh, thinking about them just hurts your brain, brings you a massive migraine. You’ve gotten a bloody nose out of it one time, and you really don’t want to experience that again. It was one of the worst ones that you had, and even that, was suspicious to you. It wasn’t hard to notice that something was at play here as a mute watcher. Yet, something stops you from thinking of such. You wonder if you can get your answers from an Alpha Legionnaire or a Thousand Son. You heard it was a bit risky to deal with the mysteries untold, but if you wanted answers…

“Auntie?” Eden calls for you again, a tone of worry, perhaps defensiveness in her voice. Her hands tugging up at you. Wanting your attention again. “Did Mr. Varon offend you? You stare at them quite a lot…”

‘What? ’ You think to yourself, blinking away from the Shadow Keeper; rising your brow as you look back down at the child. Ignoring your own hint of embarrassment that grows inside of you that you were just… staring at things. Though, who's Varon? Wait…

Your head moves back up to the Shadow Keeper, your eyes narrowing at him slightly, judging him. His helmet tilting a centimeter to his right. His visor flashing a bit brighter as if he was… amused. Never in your life have you made on effort to learn the first and last names of the Golden Knights. You didn’t want to, you wanted the favor of your supposed parents then, but now?

You shake your head, ridding of any thoughts that could be driven by your heart. Turning your head back down to the child that was trying to pull you along somewhere. Her hands tightly grasping at you, grunting in… cute effort to try and move you from your spot. A singular twitch of your lips frowning upward, being shown for the trained eye before quickly going stoic again and following where the child wanted you to be. The shadows’ following at a respective distance right after.

She leads you a bit through the mansion, as if she was checking it out with you. Her hand never leaving their spot on your pants to pull you along. Taking you around the kitchen, living room, the outer rim of the mansion before taking you back inside and pulling you up stairs that has a loft near the entry way of the mansion. An honestly good spot to spy on the new people that come and go, and you suppose its one of the things you and Eden like doing together. Sitting in each others presence and watch the drama unfold just at the entry of the mansion.

“Father! I got someone new I want you to meet!” Ah, and so the show begins. A male and feminine figure slamming the front door shut upon entering the mansion. A click of heels echoing through the area as Father and Mother appear from just down the hall. Mother appearing from the laundry room. Something you take note of quickly as her being in the laundry room was suspicious, she never- doesn’t do laundry. Father appeared somewhere further down the hall. The rest of the hallway unseeable with the second story room wall’s in the way, but you would have to guess it was from his office.

Mother, something you don’t even call her anymore nor Father, but she was a rather fine looking woman with blonde hair and blue eyes. Good figure that would make her a model until you get to her shitty attitude. Most of the time she's a manipulator. Her tone untrue to others, including family. Seems like she just can’t stop being in a play. A fantasy she puts herself in. Something at least you can feel pity on her **for.

Father was all the dark a broody unless he was hosting his parties. Drinking away his worries. His dark eyes almost distant; black, slicked back hair seemingly always greasy now a days, but at least he occasionally shaved when a beard started to grow. That was something to show he wasn’t a complete failure. At least physically, emotionally? You, and only you knew he was drowning in silent debt. He should really consider rejecting some things… It will only be a matter of time before he breaks. You take a bet that he would even brake before your mother would.

“This is Linton Stokes.” Your stepsister, more like half-sister, but you don’t really even consider her blooded or even a sister. It’s another thing you think that many would need to earn the title of, but she introduces the new male next to her. Her arms wrapping around his neck while this “Linton Stokes” puts his hands on her waist. A sound of hushed disgust coming from the child besides you. “He’s my new boyfriend.”

‘What's the number now for that? The 12th one this year?’ You muse to yourself, shifting your weight as you lean up against the glass railing. That's also not even counting the past years she's had these flings of boyfriend's. Sometimes you feel bad for them because some of them seemed genuinely good material, only to be ruined by Lessas’ habits of being well…. a known whore, to put it boldly. Other times you can tell it was just a game to the men, and this male? Was going to be no different. You can just tell. It’s like a sixth sense.

“Oh! How exiting!” Mother gasps in fake excitement, but it has just enough training that it fools nearly everyone. Her hands clasping together. Her smile too bright, and the bright red lipstick she was wearing wasn’t helping her either. “What do you do, young man?”

“I, uh, I do business.” The guy retorts and immediately, you know that's a lie. If he was business he wouldn’t be dressed like a commoner. He would be more formal. Not only that, but he hesitated his words. He wasn’t confident in his position. So that's all the more reason to think that he was a liar or he just wasn’t doing well at his job that he was most definitely going to get fired sooner or later.

That, or you’re too judgmental.

“What type of business?” Father inquires, raising his brow. His fingers threading through his hair as he sighs out. Seemingly not in the mood to meet anyone else, unless of he was drinking of course. Friendly, deceiving person when drunk. Uncaring, tired man when sober. Pitiful, almost.

“Corporation, sir.” Linton speaks with manners but if he actually had any he wouldn’t be allowing himself the freedom of touching Lessa openly. He would have been respectful and shown promise in front of father, but you know the simple word: Corporation caught your father’s interest. His eyes regained a bit of light to them at the first syllable.

“Corporation, eh?” Father chuckles in a low tone, coming forward to remove Lessa from him and wrap his own arm around his shoulder. His daughter, not even of blood, pouting just a bit with a stomp of her black heels. “Say… I can teach you a thing or two? Hmm?”

“Mother!” Lessa huffs and puffs, never really liking the attention off of her. Another clicking stomp coming from her as she looks over to mother, expecting her to do something when another solid gold came into the room: Aquilan shield if you remember correctly of what type the Golden Knight was that has entered the entry way freely. His golden armor, and what you assume jewels imbedded in it having a bit of a reflex on the tile below. His figure more prominent in the tile reflection than anything else in the damn house. Probably the most expensive thing in the world too. It’s one of the few things why your father just… tolerates them because not only do they look intimidating, but your pretty sure there is dollar bills in your fathers eyes each time he glances over them.

Linton, probably and most likely has never seen an Custodies before, shivers in his spot. His adam apple signaling that he swallowed hard at the Aquilans’ sudden appearance, and man was it always amusing to see the new people crumble at just the sight of them. You had to at least give that to the Golden Knights. They were effective in chasing people off and keeping them off the property. Not they really intend to. It was just how they were built.

Yeah, built. You don’t believe these men or perhaps just things of armor: formed like golden bars were birthed like 1,000+ pounds at the getaway from a woman’s womb. They were definitely created in a lab unless they came from a line of giants or some mythical creature. Exaggerated? Maybe, but what else could you think of without getting a pounding headache that stops you from thinking further?

“Is…i-is that a Astarte's?” Is the first thing Linton says about them, and it’s almost a boring answer. Her eyes flickering over to father before looking back at the Aquilan with clear nervousness. His hands were shaking a little bit as he swallows again. It was a bit of a miracle that he hasn’t excused himself yet. It was a bit strange, but not everyone was the same. Maybe this guy has a bit of a back bone?

“No, that’s Atlas!” Eden speaks up right next to you. Her little mind not taking the disrespect for the Custodies, no matter if it was a simple question, and you… praise her for it, but did it have to be near you? You were just the playing object, perhaps a puppet in their eyes. Not even their child or sibling, just some random that lives in their house, eating their money, and you can just tell with how they look up to you with such disgust. It would sicken you, yourself if you weren’t used to it already.

“What are you doing out?” Your father more like comments up at you. His arm still wrapped around Lintons’ shoulders while they just seem to forget about the new Golden Knight in the room since they noticed you, and not in a good way as an uncomfortable silence stretches through out the area. Your mouth never opening to answer them. You never do as it would come with a cost of your own sanity. You just watch.

“Who is that, sir?” Linton speaks up with a slight waver in his tone. His brown eyes looking up at you in mild curiosity, and it leaves you skeptical. Your eyes tracking every movement that he does. Man should know what not to question around here. Especially with the attitude of your mother and Lessa. They do not do well with your mere presence or of an uttered word of/and/or about you.

“They are no one, honey!” Your mother grins too brightly, gaining the attention of the newcomer for a second and huff from her daughter: who smirks in response as if she won something she never even participated in. Her arms folding over her chest as she shoots a poor attempt of a sinister glare up to you.

‘Was that suppose to remove me from the plains of the Earth?’ You muse to yourself to keep your spirits up despite the prickling anxiety that feels like lightning was roaming across your back. Your form shifting your weight on one leg.

“Come, baby!” Lessa smiles too brightly as well, forcefully taking Linton back from her father, pulling at the mans’ clothes. Her tone so full of under toned venom, and she wasn't even hiding it. She never tries to. Probably one of the reasons she losses relationships so much…You honestly wonder how well she would do if she was paired up with a chaos Emperor Child? For you, you want it to be a form of punishment for her. You know that what you’re thinking of is… dark. You know the difference between chaos and a “holy” marine; have a slight concept of it, and by god you wished something akin to what was going through your mind happened to her. “Let me show you around my mansion!”

Your father face twitches at Lessas’ words, clearly taking in of how she says “my mansion.” Clearly displeased with her. Not only did she take away a potential victim of his… scam’s, but she was pulling a dominance card, and if you didn’t know any better yourself? Certain men don’t like that, like your father. It’s surprising he doesn’t do anything about it just yet. Most likely wanting to try and score some money off the “Linton Stokes” and spend it all in one go. That is if he was even a business man. This guy could be wanting to do the same to him.

“Hold on now,” Linton pauses their attempts to move him further down the mansion. His hands coming up to hold Lessas’ hands to try and stop her from dragging him. Lessas’ eyes giving him a glare that he simply ignores, looking back up at you. “I thought I was supposed to be meeting your whole family?”

‘Whole family, huh?’ You narrow your eyes down at him, meeting his gaze; making sure that you gather any more detail you could about him physically. He knows a lot more than what he leads on… His eyes flickering around briefly: at Eden then back to you, and something about that simple look around irks you. It sends a couple of negative mixed signal’s through your brain. Your form shifting a bit to cover Eden up more with your body, at most your legs. Her hands squeezing at your clothing at the unintended invitation.

Lessa was a absolute fool to bring this one in.

“She’s nobody.” Lessa hisses through her teeth with a happy tone. Her blue eyes sending you another glare up at you before lighting up again once Linton looks back at her. Smiling as if she hasn’t done a single unholy thing in her life before giving a light laugh. “A maid at most! Let me show you around, babe!”

You can see the man hesitate before reluctantly following her. Letting himself be pulled by her hand and lead him further into the mansion. Your parents lingering for a second, giving you a lasting glare before following their steps. You would feel… sorry, but with how many years you put up with their shit? It wasn’t even worth to waste such emotion.

“That guy is weird.” Eden comments up at you, saying whatever pops up into her head. Your figure leaning up from the glass railing while you decided that pinnacle of drama was enough for the both of you. Better things can be done besides being bait to some theatricals.

You nod down at her though: agreeing. This “Linton Stokes” was definitely weird. He knew that you were part of the household even if you weren’t really well… apart of it. His gives off an… strange aura that you can’t pinpoint just yet, but you know it’s negative. It’s not something to just brush off either. Not to mention the random look he gave Eden…

You need to keep an eye on this dude. Yet, you cannot always be there for her, no matter if you want to or not; could or not. The family would get suspicious, and start lies or something that was supposed to ruin your own reputation. She also could get targeted too, and you definitely did not want that to happen. No child deserved to not feel a mother’s love, father’s protection or even a siblings connections, and just because you didn’t have it yourself? It doesn’t mean you would revoke someone else of that… wholesomeness. That was just a low blow, or at least you think it was- is.

You sigh, your shoulders dropping slightly in some form of internal defeat. How would you even protect her? At least until you feel safe that she was safe? It’s not like you could hire a damn mercenary or bodyguard. The spent money would be suspicious too.

…Wait.

Your eyes flicker up to the black and gold Shadow Keeper that kept to the shadows and the gold and royal blue Aquilan Shield below that keeps his own red visors staring up at you. Your mind thinking… There are others that can protect her, but were you willing to take that risk? To finally make request them of something after years of trying to ignore them the best you could?

To finally give them a sliver of your inconclusive trust?

#space marine husbandry sentience #warhammer40k #second person pov #third person pov #polyamory #adeptus custodes #adeptus custodes x reader #oc: sabinus ventura #emissaries imperatus #oc: celsus varon #shadow keeper #oc: atlas ectorius #aquilan shield #oc: pythios erős #dread host #oc: horos ectorius #solar watch #tw: neglect #tw: predator

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sendpseuds · 2 years ago

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just finished nearly 6000 words of straight smut and suddenly feeling very insecure about writing the other two perspectives...

#apparently when you add a third person there's a lot more sex to be had #and it's A LOT #i want to finish all three chapters before posting because I know it will make all of them better #but i definitely need time in between each of these chapters #BUT ALSO i feel like i need to post something for EIYWT soon #so either i just post this first chapter and hope I don't want to change any of it while I write the other two #or i write something completely different to be posted first #or you know i just take my time #but right now that doesn't feel like a good option #please forgive me #drunk and insecure on tumblr #how original #i feel like i need someone to read it #but also no one can read it until it's out in the ether because I'm a cave troll about the smut #only the cave troll deals with the smut #okay this is getting insane but if I'm venting in the tags its less messy right?#right???

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fanfic-reading-challenge · 2 months ago

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The 2025 Fanfic Reading Challenge

Welcome to another year of the Fanfic Reading Challenge (FRC)!

I won't bore you with the history of the challenge, this year, but I will welcome you to check out past posts that do explain some of it, as well as include a brief overview of what, exactly, this challenge is, though it does change year to year. (Essentially you read fics to complete goals and win bragging points and an artsy badge.)

This year is especially different, as I had the extreme pleasure of having @noxsoulmate as a partner in crime in keeping me hostage on track to completing this year's FRC. Another valued member of the mod team is @jandjsalmon and speaks for all of us if you need questions answered!

As for the challenge....

This is, indeed, a challenge. Of course.

First of all... you must obviously read fanfiction. As if you don't already!

You also need to download and make your own copy of the spreadsheet, which can be found here, as well as below in the important links section.

To participate in the challenge, you read fics that match the tasks in the challenge. An example of a task can be: "read a fic with a title containing the word purple in it." Should be easy! Of course, there are harder ones.

Which is why there are different modes of challenge to the FRC. These are as follows:

Participation (Complete 1 task)

Regular Mode (Complete 80 tasks)

Hard Mode (Complete 150 tasks)

Extreme Mode (Complete 220 tasks)

Complete (Complete 250 tasks)

The challenge lasts from January 1st, 2025, to December 31st, 2025.

There are badges that go with the modes completed, and even a secret 6th badge that will be fairly obvious if you look at the spreadsheet! Doesn't mean it'll be easy to complete though. *smirks* (Blame Noxy)

Most important of all: this challenge operates on the honour system. We don't check your work, or your reading logs (see below), so I mean, I guess if you want to be slippery with the rules, you do you, and that's on your conscience, but honestly it's so much fun to see how much you can get done by following the letter of the law/tasks! You can be slippery even with following the tasks fully. It's great fun. ;D

I think that's enough for an intro, really, maybe too much.

Important Links and Reading Logs/Trackers

As there is a component of the FRC that includes tracking numbers of words read, most of us use a reading log/tracker to keep count of how many fics we read, including data such as words, of course, chapters, month completed, ship, author, title, fandom, link to the fic, and such. It's a great place to mark what fics you want to read in the future as well!

This year we have FOUR trackers on offer, quite different from one another, so take a look, play around with them and check out their "intros", and choose according to what you think will work best for you!

Fic Tracking Sheets

Juulna's 2025 Reading Log

Noxy's 2025 Reading Log

2025 Jandy's Fic Tracker

Taru's Fic Tracker 2025

Discord

We have a blast on Discord. From general chatter to sharing pet pics to being there for each other during the tough times to forming lasting friendships and making friendships you’d never make in a ship- or fandom-specific Discord, to asking for help ‘rolling the dice’ (pick a number between 1-10!) to choose the next fic to read, to finding some of the really challenging task fills in fandoms people might not have ever read but are willing to try, or finding fandoms someone has never read and is very tentative about stepping out of their box, but they’re being 100% supported and know they don’t need to complete the fic for it to count for the task, stepping out of their comfort zone… we’ve formed a very odd group of, if not friends, then companions (but there are definite friendships that have formed!! Just ask the people who have started watching NHL and NFL together in our off topic channel!).

In any case, our Discord is not necessary, but it is a worthy and tactical element to completing many of the tasks of this challenge. 💙

And.... without further ado....!

The 2025 Fanfic Reading Challenge! (link)

There is an info/rules page as the first sheet on the spreadsheet that should fill in any further questions you have. It also has more contact info than just this page if you have any further questions and perhaps need a more immediate answer for your needs.

*Occasionally you will run into something that looks like an error, and it may in fact be one! Let us know if you see it. It's hard not to make a mistake on as large a spreadsheet as this.*

Please, first of all, have fun and just read fanfiction that you enjoy! I (Juulna) did that last year and didn't even come close to completing the entire challenge, and I still had a blast because I was enjoying what I was reading and rereading. Others took the challenge right to the completed end. Others forgot about it halfway through but still had fun, and some even went back and filled in the sheet for a really good showing! The challenge is what you make of it, what you want from it. So... just have fun. Read fic. Smile. Enjoy. :)

Second of all... well, we would love if you signal boost this post!!!!

Third of all, we do have our pinned post that includes a link to this page and that will include a link to our Discord and all our trackers as well, including past links for memento and informative purposes.

Thank you, and a blessed 2025 to all!

#2025frc #2025 fic reading challenge #fic reading challenge #fanfic reading challenge #reading challenge #fandom events #fanfiction #challenges #goals #2025 goals #new year's resolutions

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xmunsonlovex · 12 days ago

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Somewhere I Belong

Summary: You leave home for a new opportunity in Hawkins. You're on your own, and your first day, you meet your metal head neighbor. Will this be the start of something that you've always been longing for, or will you keep it at a distance, as you always do.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Shy Fem!Reader

wc: 8600+

Warnings: 18+ MDNI. female reader, reader has low self esteem and a lot of insecurities, slight angst, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart, etc) mentions of male masturbation, mentions of oral(f!receiving) reader is inexperienced and a virgin, mutual pinning, idiots in love, eventual smut in later chapter(s), Eddie is little bit of perv, but only for you.

a/n: It's here, guys. A day earlier than I had originally set myself to release it. I had to break it up into multiple parts, which I am currently writing already. I hope to have pt.2 out next week. That'll be the smutty chapter, for those wanting to see these 2 take the next step. Thank you to whoever reads this, I hope you like it. While I've read HUNDREDS of fics from all you lovely loves here on Tumblr, this is my first fic I have ever written. I think I read it over at least 20 times. I'm sure there are still many grammatical errors and things I may have missed. Please let me know if you like it. Please reblog and comment your thoughts 💗

Dividers by: saradika-graphics

You huffed as you placed the last box of your belongings on the carpeted floor. This definitely needs to be replaced, you thought as you looked at it. The move to Hawkins was grueling, between heavy traffic and nasty weather, you were trying to just make it there in one piece. Thankfully you did, and now you stood in the middle of your living room, taking in your new surroundings. It's around 6pm, and it's starting to get dark. You felt lucky to have a nice view of the sunset from your backyard, if you could call it that. It was a small section with enough space for maybe a little garden (you’ve always dreamt of growing your own veggies), and patio chairs. You had found the relatively inexpensive trailer for sale in a community called Forest Hills in Hawkins. Looking at the photos, you knew it needed some repairs. A new paint job too, maybe, but with your new job in the city, you figured you'd make it your own in no time. It was supposed to pay fairly well too, working as an administrative assistant.

You walk over to the kitchen, checking the fridge and stove. All seemed to work fine for now, and with that, you were putting away your kitchen belongings in the cupboards, making note to fix the wobbly door to each cabinet. A box of Mac and Cheese sat on the counter while you boiled some water in a small pot, and then started to cut up some cucumbers and cherry tomatoes, making your favorite salad. You were singing to yourself as you made your food, that you didn't hear the knock on the door. It was soft at first, but quickly became louder after the 4th knock. You grabbed a towel to dry off your wet hands, and walked to your front door, looking through the peephole, but could not make out who was on the other side. You opened the door just a bit, and see a frizzy- haired man, who didn't look much older than you. He sported a denim jacket with lots of heavy metal band patches on it. That definitely caught your eye.

"Hey Jack-" He turned his head to look at you, then scratched at his cheek. "You're not Jack.." He said.

"Hi, no. I'm not. I'm guessing he's the one I bought this trailer from though..?" You asked, a small smile on your lips. He was cute, you thought.

"Makes sense. I haven't seen him in like..2 weeks. I thought maybe he went on vacation then got another car.." he pointed to your shitty car that sat on your driveway, practically falling apart. "You left the trunk open. I um..closed it for you. Don't want any raccoons to get in there.." He chuckled softly, sliding his hands into his pockets.

You smiled at him, and nodded. Of course you left it open. "Thank you. I was doing a million things at once.." You sighed, and rubbed your forehead. "I just moved in today. I'm Y/N, by the way.." you say, noticing him smile softly when you mentioned your name. "I'm Eddie. I live next door to you.." He nodded towards his trailer and then kicked a rock as he looked down, making sure it went to the side rather than in your home. "Well, nice to meet you, Eddie. I uhm, I'll see you around? I have dinner cooking right now. Don’t want to burn down my new home.” You said with a chuckle.

“Yeah. Maybe I can show you around town..whenever you're free." He says quickly. You felt your cheeks heat up as he looked at you. Those big, beautiful brown eyes, they could put you in a trance. "I'm usually home by 5:30..and I'm off on Sundays."

“Ok, yeah, I like that idea. I’m off on the weekends, so that works out.” You say.

He felt a giddiness inside him, the thought of making a new friend and even the possibility that the friendship could turn into something more, gave him butterflies. Hope, even. For so long, he was used to being blamed for the events that happened in Hawkins. For so long..he was called a freak and spat at for his taste in music. He wasn't a bad guy, at least he didn't think so. Steve and Robin, and the boys (who were all graduated now) didn't think so. So why was it so hard for him to make other friends? To get a date? He was tired of the meaningless sex that usually transpired at The Hideout, not that it happened often. He wouldn't call himself a ladies man by any means, or someone the girls would seek after. Most times, girls wanted something from it. A little weed. Or maybe the right to brag that they had a quickie with a front man of a rock-band. They never specified which band, though. So when the opportunity arose to show a pretty, new girl around town, he was absolutely going to take the chance to do that.

"I'll stop by Sunday. I can show you around town, and where to go for all the good food places. Maybe I can take you..to get some groceries, if you need. I don't mind." Eddie offered.

"Ok, yeah, thank you, Eddie. I uhm...gotta get going though, but I’ll see you Sunday." You try to sound confident, but it comes out a bit shy and timid, instead. He says goodbye, and you watch him jog to his trailer, looking over at you and waving before going inside his home. You can't help but bite your lower lip, knowing he would be trouble. You weren't exactly looking for a relationship, not romantically anyway. It was embarrassing to think about the fact you had no experience aside from a few pecks on the lips from the 3 dates you had gone on back at home. The dates always ended with a "I had a nice time, but I think we should see other people." You weren't sure if you were maybe too boring for them, or maybe it was your looks? Your self esteem had always been low, even back to when you were in middle school. Kids were relentless and brutal.

High school was no better. Girls were rude and mocked you for your style, or lack thereof. Boys were cruel too. Laughing when you once tripped over your own feet, nervous around a football player you liked. He looked at you apologetically but it didn't stop the chuckle that left his mouth when your knees and palms slammed on the tile floor. You were 23 now and still remembered it like yesterday. It was the reason you left home. Your mom was sad, she'd definitely miss you but understood the change you needed in your life. She wasn't about to stop you from becoming a better version of yourself. And this was your chance.

Sunday rolled around way quicker than you anticipated. Between putting away the remainder of your items around the house and doing a deep clean; you were exhausted. But, looking forward to the city tour with your new neighbor. You had woken up earlier than usual to have a shower and a quick breakfast to settle your growling stomach from skipping dinner the night before. After finishing your food, and cleaning up the kitchen, you grabbed your purse and keys, setting them on the small console table by the door as you pace around, growing a little nervous. What if he decided he didn't want to show you around? He probably had better things to do. Your thoughts were promptly silenced as a knock was heard. Giving it a couple of seconds to not seem too eager, you then walked to your door and opened it. Eddie smiled. You could tell he was freshly showered, his hair still a little wet and the smell of soap mixed with some cologne invaded your nostrils.

"Morning, I have an appointment with Ms. Y/N." He said, with a sheepish smile. You giggled.

"Good Morning, sir. Yes, I'll be happy to help you with that. Please come in and take a seat. She will be right with you. Could I offer you some water?" You say in your most professional voice. Eddie was in your home now, admiring your decor. It was simple but you. There were some framed photos on the wall; and a light blue couch taking up quite a bit of space in the living room.

"Huh? Oh yes, thank you ma'am." He said and took a seat on the couch, that intoxicating smile now reaching his eyes. "You're a metal fan." He said, noticing your CD and vinyl collection by the TV stand. "Hmm. Alice Cooper, Black Sabbath...Dio??" He said excitedly, holding the vinyl for Holy Diver. Oh, he's going to have to marry you, now.

"Yeah, I love them. My dad’s a huge fan. Would put the album on when I was younger." You say, smiling at the fond memories, then hand over a glass of cold water to Eddie, who accepts it with a smile. "I fear that you will never get rid of me, now. These are my favorite bands. Not to mention...there is some stuff here that I haven't listened to yet..you have quite the extensive library, sweetheart." He chuckled. The heat that emitted from your cheeks at the nickname was for sure evident, you thought. No way he didn’t see the pink tint on your face. And he did. He proudly gave himself a mental high-five for making you blush.

"Alright, let's get going. I have loads to show you." Eddie said after drinking the water you so kindly offered him.

Eddie took you around to all his favorite spots in Hawkins, starting with showing you where your new job was located, then drove back south towards Hawkins again. You learned a lot about him while he drove you around. He was 25, worked as a mechanic at a local auto repair shop, and on some weekends, he'd play with his band, Corroded Coffin, at a bar called The Hideout. You said you'd definitely go see him play and that you were sure he sounded amazing, despite him saying otherwise. That made him blush this time around.

"So, this is where I went to high school, figured I'd show you since it's on the way to the farmers market you wanted to go to." He tapped on the steering wheel. His hands couldn’t stay still, between either the tapping or him playing air drums to the song that quietly played on his radio.

“Kind of looks like my school...but mine was filled with the most obnoxious and hateful people I'd ever met." You say, your tone a bit softer. "It's the main reason I left home. Everyone I knew...they held this standard of 'I'm better than you.' A lot of people with money. An easy life. Meanwhile, my mom worked her ass off all day and night to keep our mouths fed." You then fell quiet for a bit. "I hated my high school years.." You chuckle faintly and look over at him, who looked back at you while he waited at a red light. "I know all about that.." He nodded. "I wasn't a...popular guy in high school either. I was bullied here and there, but most people left me alone. They didn't want to mess with the one guy who dealt them their weed. Or whatever drug they needed." He said, a little bit of a white lie but you didn't need to know the whole story. With that, he winked at you with a small smirk, and drove to the farmers market.

"What?! How can you not like cucumbers? They're so tasty! With some salt and ranch. So good." You said, laughing as he made a gagging face while you picked some fresh fruit and placed them in the basket you were holding. "Respectfully darling, they taste so bland. Like crunchy water."

You scoff and shake your head. "They’re super healthy, though. If you ever come over for lunch or something, I'll make you my special tomato and cucumber salad. It has some dill weed in it. And ranch. You'll love it."

"I take it back. I don't think I can hang out with you anymore. Dill weed? You're killing me here." He joked. The laugh that you let out was now his favorite sound in the world. A genuine laugh at his lame attempt at joking around with you.

After you paid for the fruits, he gently placed his hand on your lower back, guiding you towards the next stall, which was selling homemade sauces and jams. The older woman on the other side of the table gives Eddie a rather unpleasant look, then notices you. What she can only imagine to be this innocent young woman who is being put under a spell by Eddie the "devil worshipper". This worried her. It took her no time to pull out a pamphlet of their local church, and handed it to you, but you immediately shut that down, and handed it back to her.

"I appreciate the suggestion, but..I'm not really religious. Thank you. I'd just like to buy-"

"I will not sell my items to devil worshippers like you and Munson, here." Her tone immediately changed to unfriendly and unwelcoming. Eddie felt himself start to get angry, not so much of what she said about him. He was used to that. But because now you'd been given the same treatment as him, and you didn't deserve that. You were sweet. And so beautiful. Welcomed him with a smile rather than spiteful comments and-

“That's OK. I can go spend my money elsewhere. I saw a few stalls that had better prices, actually. And frankly, they also seemed nicer. I can't imagine your jams and sauces taste any good when you have such hate in your heart.” You say. It wasn't meant to be an insult or anything of that nature, you genuinely didn't know why she was being so mean to Eddie. He looked at you, a smile tugging on the corner of his lips. “Come on, I know the one.” Eddie grabbed your hand, leading you to a different part of the market. Near the parking lot.

“Hi Sammy. Y/N, is this what you're looking for?” He asked you, this vendor was selling lots of different jams. He'd known about him from The Wheelers. Particularly Nancy. “You bring me a new customer? Eddie. How can I ever repay you?” Sammy smiled fondly at him. One of the very few people in town that treated Eddie with some dignity.

“Yes. I'm new in town. Wanted to check out the local farmers market. See what you guys had.” You smile shyly. Eddie came to the conclusion that you were quite shy by nature. Not that he was observing every small detail of you on purpose. Or maybe..

“Oh, Eddie. She's so sweet! Polar opposites, I see.” He joked and Eddie glared at him, with no real mean intention behind it. “Teasing. Eddie's a great guy. You've made a wonderful friend.” He hyped him up, trying to be a wingman of sorts.

“I agree.” You simply say, worried you'd start babbling. Wouldn't be the first time, and instead, you offer Eddie a warm smile as you look at him, a look that lingered for a couple seconds longer than usual. “Alrighty lovebirds. What can I get for yah?” Sammy smirked, looking at both you and Eddie, noticing the flustered expressions. Oh, young love.

“Um, yes. I would like the grape, blackberry and..peach jam, please.” You say, your face is on fire as you stutter your words. Get a hold of yourself. You hadn’t known Eddie for more than a week, and already you were a mess. Stumbling over your words, blushing every time his fingertips brushed your skin or sent a sweet nickname your way. Eddie is definitely going to be the death of you. Sammy hands you the 3 jars of jam, and puts them in a brown paper bag, adding a smaller jar in there with the others. “This one is my famous strawberry jam. My bestseller. This sample is on me. Let me know if you like it.” He says, smiling sweetly as he hands you the bag. You pull out your wallet, and go to grab some money, but Eddie stops you, grabbing his own wallet quicker. “I got it..” He mumbled with a smile, and before you could put up a fight, he slapped a 20 dollar bill on Sammy’s palm. “I'll see you, Sam.” Eddie says and he guides you two to walk over to his van.

“Anything else you want to do?” He asked, opening the door for you and watching as you go in, his eyes admiring the round of your ass. He shakes the impure thoughts from his mind, and watches you buckle yourself in.

“We can head home. Maybe I can make you some lunch? At…my place. If-if you want. I don’t want to impose, or anything. I’m sure you’re a busy guy and all-” He chuckles at your rambling, thinking you couldn’t possibly be any cuter than you already were. Oh, he’s in trouble, as well.

“Let’s go have some lunch. I guess I’ll try this special cucumber and tomato salad you keep trying to sell me on. With the dill weed and ranch.” He smirked, and gently shut the door to his van, then went around and got in the driver side, buckling in. “Ready, madam?” He said, shaking his wild mane side to side. He turned his head towards you, and gave you a goofy smile as he started the van, and then drove out of the parking lot. You softly laughed at his antics, already enamoured with him. “Hey Eddie, can I ask you something?” You cautiously say, not sure whether this would offend him. “Hm.” He replies, turning left to get into the correct lane towards the trailer park. “Do people really think you’re a satanist? I mean..if..you are, I promise I am not bothered by it. I don’t put down anyone’s beliefs. Unless you’re a shitty person. Which I do not believe you are. You’ve been really nice to me.” You say, once again, rambling. “I am. Why do you think the whole town gives me such scared looks? Poor Jeannie, the lady with the jams, was so upset when I sacrificed her chickens and goats. But..I needed them! I wish she’d just understand.” He sighed, shaking his head and then glanced at you, finding you wide-eyed. “I’m joking, sweetheart.” He let out a soft laugh, and came to a full stop right before their turn. “This town is very stuck on old beliefs. I like metal music, and the media painting it as the devil’s music a few years ago certainly didn’t help my case. I also played dungeons and dragons in high school, still do actually. And this whole place came after me with pitchforks.” He once again left out some important key facts regarding the history of Hawkins. A conversation for another day, perhaps. “Not everyone is horrible, but I’ve kept my circle small for this very reason.” He added.

Once he arrived back at the trailer park, he parked his van at his place after dropping you off at your front door like a gentleman. He said he’d come over in about 20 minutes, saying he had a few calls he had to make. You didn’t ask any questions, and instead focused on getting started on lunch. Your “special” salad, along with some sandwiches, chips and 2 glasses of cold cokes. You hoped he would enjoy it, now second guessing everything you just did. To the paper plates you placed the food on, to the silly Halloween table cloth you had put on your small dining table. It was only March. You thought of earlier as you sat on your couch waiting for him. When he placed his hand on the small of your back. His hand felt like fire on you, over your clothes and yet, you recall the goosebumps traveling all over your body from such a simple and soft touch. You wondered how his hands would feel on other parts. Your shoulders. Massaging out years of tension and stress. Wondered how his hands would feel if he held your cheek in a romantic manner. Or what they would feel like caressing your neck down to your arms, until they were in an area you wanted to feel him the most. You shut your eyes tightly, and lean your head back against the top of the cushion on the couch, letting out a soft sigh.Your insecurities overwhelming you as you sat there alone with your thoughts.

“Steve, I..I need your guidance here, man.” Eddie panicked over the phone, pacing his small kitchen, playing with the phone cord out of habit. “What are you talking about? You got this. It’s like a damn movie. A cute girl moves in next door. Voluntarily wants to hang out with you. You’re golden!” He tries his best to comfort Eddie in his state of anxiety. “I don’t know. She’s beautiful, absolutely. Is she wanting to hang out, out of pity, though? Because some dumbass called me a freak in front of her? Is she-” Eddie is quickly cut off by Steve. “Yes. She is inviting you over for lunch, after she accepted your offer to show her around town, and laughed at your jokes, because she feels bad that some lonely, old woman called you a freak.” Steve deadpanned. “You really think so?” Eddie sadly sighed. Steve wanted to strangle him over the phone. “Eddie, no! I know your expertise with women isn’t as evolved as mine…but listen when I tell you, she’s into you. To some degree, anyway! Go over, have lunch with her. Be a little flirty. See where it goes. No harm in trying.” Steve smiled. Easy for the Stud of Hawkins to say.

You hear a knock at your door, one you were now familiar with, pulling you out of your negative thoughts. Something you really had to work on. You’re a little quicker to answer the door this time, and see Eddie standing there with a few flowers he picked from The Wilson’s front yard on the other side of his trailer. They’ll never notice, he’d argue. “Oh wow, those are so pretty..” You say, your attention immediately drawn to the light blue flowers in his hand. He swallows hard. “Just like you.” He smiles softly, and hands them to you, and you graciously take them. He doesn’t miss the crimson blush that spreads over your cheeks to your ears. “Thank you, Eddie. Come in.” You bashfully say, stepping aside to let him in, and then shut your door. “I made us lunch. Um, I hope it’s to your liking.” He watches you walk into the kitchen, grab a small vase and add water to it, then place the flowers he picked out into it. “I’m sure I will love it. Let’s try that salad, huh?” He said and sat down at the table.

It was close to 6 in the afternoon now, and Eddie was helping you clean up the dining table, his belly full of the delicious food you made. “Sooo…I could tell you liked the salad. Just admit it. Cucumbers are amazing.” You smirk, looking at him. “Whoa. Let’s not get crazy. You’re lucky that I am fond of you.” He throws the paper plates in the trash, with your approval of course. “But yes, it was really good, Y/N.” He smiles, looking back at you. “I wanted to ask you something now.” Eddie says, walking up to you as you stood by the kitchen entryway. You feel your heartbeat start to hammer in your chest at the close proximity. Noticing the faint freckles that paint his upper cheeks. He is so pretty.

“My band is playing next weekend. At The Hideout. I would…really like for you to be there. We go on stage at 9..Not too late at night. And! You’ll get to meet my friends. Steven and Robin. Possibly Nancy. She doesn’t care for the loud music, so she doesn’t really go to these things.” He said, looking down at his feet, then up at you, trying to read your expression. “What if they don’t like me?” You say, your voice so small, you wanted to curl into yourself and disappear. His features soften, and he places his hand over yours, which was on the kitchen counter.

“Believe me, they will love you.” He gives your hand a comforting caress, making you a blushing mess for what felt like the 50th time today.

“I would love to meet them. And to see you perform.” You take in a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to calm your anxiety. He could make out that you were a little hesitant in your response.

“Do I make you nervous?” He says suddenly, his eyes boring into yours. You freeze at his question, because it was as if his demeanor changed in a blink of an eye; from gentle to dominating. It was all in the way he looked at you with his dark eyes.

“N-no. No, not really. I mean, I am just a shy person. I get nervous around new people. As you can tell.” You say. He takes your hand in his, holding it, and flashes you a warm smile.

“Don’t worry. You’ll fit right in with us. I promise. They don’t bite.” He then leans in, close to your ear, whispering. “Though, I do a little.” Eddie says, and patted your hand, smirking. He learned that he really liked to make you squirm, and see you flustered. Sometimes he would get this burst of confidence that he had to take advantage of. It’s how he got himself more gigs at The Hideout. How he got himself a better paying position as a mechanic at J’s Auto Service. That was a milestone, because he was able to save up enough money to get Wayne his own trailer a few blocks away, in a better neighborhood. He deserved it.

You open the door for Eddie, smiling as you watch him check the doors hinges, making sure the lock worked well, for your safety, of course. “Well, have a great first day at work. If you need anything, give me a call, ok?” He assures you that giving him a call at work would be the highlight of his day. “And you can call me whenever you want too. You know I’m all alone here.” You giggle, biting your lower lip. The playful flirting that occurred throughout the day really put you in good spirits, giving you a tiny bit of confidence. “I’ll definitely remember that. Sleep well, princess.” Eddie smirks, and walks down your porch, but stops to look over your car. “You’ll need new tires soon. You should bring it into the shop during the week. I’ll take a look at it and do an inspection.” He then waves, giving you no time to answer.

It’s Friday afternoon, and you had 2 hours left of your shift. Counting the minutes until it was 5:00. You didn’t mind the job, it was practically the same as your office position back at home; filing papers, taking calls and sending out emails all day. While this position gave you a bit more responsibility and tasks, the environment was relaxed and the rest of the staff seemed to be chill. One girl, Veronica, would come over and talk to you on her way back in from her smoke breaks. You remembered Eddie smelled the same. He must smoke often enough.

“Are you doing anything fun this weekend? Not much to do in Hawkins.” Veronica popped her chewing gum, playing with a strand of her long hair as she leaned at the reception desk, looking at you.

“I am, actually! My neighbor asked me to go to The Hideout. To see his band play.”

“Eddie Munson? Ugh. The Hideout is so gross. He always takes all the girls there.” She rolled her eyes, chuckling as she nonchalantly picked her nails, admiring the design painted on them. She’d excitedly showed them to you earlier in the day. Your heart nearly sunk to your ass hearing her say that. Were you just another easy girl to him? No way would you give yourself up that easily to Eddie, or any man for that matter, and you didn’t feel that you gave off that kind of energy. You wondered if his whole shy persona was just a ploy to sleep with you, and call it a day. You were sure you liked Eddie. And you thought he genuinely liked you too. He had been so kind to you throughout the week, you reminded yourself. Everytime you came home, roughly 15 minutes after him, he’d walk over and greet you. Ask about your day. Smile and even hug you goodnight after you two would chat for a bit. It was like clockwork, at this point.

“I don’t think this is a date. Just..him being a friendly neighbor.” You shrug, trying to sound indifferent to the news she just broke to you.

“Y/N, I hate to break it to you, but he most likely thinks it's a date. And will probably end up fucking you in that smelly, tiny bathroom in the back of the bar. He does this every time. Will fuck anything in a mini skirt.” She shrugged. “Just use protection, doll.” She winked at you and walked back to her cubicle, sighing loudly as she sat down. You try to blink away the stinging in your eyes, focusing your attention on your keyboard. You absolutely did not need to cry your first week at work. It would be almost as embarrassing as you falling for your next door neighbor in such a short span of time.

It’s 5pm and you’re driving home, hoping you arrive before Eddie does. Luck must be on your side because you make it by 5:27, and quickly get out of your car, nearly tripping up the steps to your front door as you rush to pull out your key from your large purse. This stupid, big ass bag. You unlock your door, and shut it behind you, locking it back up. Your breathing is heavy as you let your body fall in disappointment. The sun shines through your kitchen window, illuminating the flowers he had picked out for you. They were still lively and vibrant. You made sure to change the water every couple of days to keep as so. You’re sulking as you decide to go and take a hot shower, to clear your mind. Then you hear his van roll in, music blasting from it.

Eddie looks at your driveway to see your car parked, in a rather chaotic way. You must’ve been excited that it was Friday. Maybe you were excited to see him and wanted to share how crazy of a day you had. He hoped that was the case, since he was ecstatic to see you. On his way to work earlier today, he stopped by the record store next to the J’s Shop, and saw Alice Cooper’s new album, Hey Stoopid. He recalls you mentioning that you’d been looking for the vinyl, wanting to add it to your collection. He gathered the last few bills he had on him, and bought it for you. He figured he’d make some extra cash anyway at The Hideout before the show, selling to the usuals.

He knocks at your door, practically beaming. He’s so excited to gift you this album, knowing it would make you happy. That’s all he wants and cares about. When you don’t answer after his 4th knock, he tries a few more times. “Hm..” He ponders, and leans to the left, trying to peek into your living room window, but the curtain blocks anyone from seeing inside. “Hey, Y/N?” He calls out. He assumes you're in the bathroom when you don't answer, and decides to possibly try again later. He wouldn’t want to disturb your “you time” in there. You hear him jog back to his trailer, his chain wallet giving him away. You felt bad, but then remember what Veronica said to you earlier in the day. That was why you were avoiding him in the first place. Though, it would be impossible to do this everyday. Well, for now, you're just going to try your best to hide from him. That means, you’ll have to stand him up at The Hideout. You turn on the shower after stripping off your work clothes and stood there for what felt like hours, playing every scenario in your mind.

Eddie is tapping his foot impatiently on his carpeted floor, his much more worn out than yours. It's close to 8:30p and you still haven't come over. And he's contemplating whether to go over to your house or not. Your lights are not on. He guesses you had a really bad day at work, and instead of bugging you, he leaves you to rest. The album can wait for tomorrow morning.

It’s bright and early, you can hear the birds chirping from your bedroom window. You rub the sleep from your eyes and groan, sitting up on your bed, looking over to look at the time. The clock read 09:47a. You better get up and make most of your Saturday as you do not plan on leaving your 4 walls tomorrow. You stretch as you stand up, and walk over to your fridge, and then jump at the loud knock. “Y/N!” a familiar voice calls out. Fuck. Ok, you need to at least confront him of his true intentions. Whether you were just another girl to him, and nothing more. You close up your robe a little as you drag your feet, letting out a shaky breath as you open the door.

“Oh, thank god!” He breathes in relief. “ I was worried about you.” He said.

“Right..well. I’m ok. Just trying to rest up.” You said. He notices your tone is a bit more cold.

“Oh. I-I’m sorry. I just wanted to check up on you. I knocked yesterday, but didn’t see you. Did you have a bad day at work?” He said, frowning now.

“You can say that-”

“Then I have something that will cheer you up! Close your eyes.” He grinned, practically jumping in excitement. You raise your brow, and hesitantly shut your eyes, then feel his warm hands grab yours, pulling them out in front of you. You feel a heavy-ish item now land on your hands and you immediately open your eyes. “Oh shit..” You hold the album, looking at it. It was a special edition one.

“Eddie..how’d you find this?” You say quietly, a smile growing on your face.

“Saw it at the record store. Had to get it for you.” He couldn’t be any prouder. He got you out of whatever slump you were feeling.

“Oh Eddie..I know this had to be expensive. Let me pay you back.”

He shook those curls you were so crazy about. “Nope. I only request your presence tonight, sweetheart. Steve and Robin are dying to meet you.” He says, crossing his arms. Your gaze travels down to them, admiring the tattoos and oh. He’s caught you staring, that smirk on his face confirms that. “I-I will be there.” You nod, going against everything you said to yourself the night before. “Great! I have some errands to run, but I will see you tonight, darling.” He bows like you are his Queen, and you might as well be at this point. You giggle, and watch him go to this van, wave at you and drive off. Maybe this wasn’t a bad idea after all.

You’re standing in line at The Hideout, waiting to be let in. You assumed that you had to wait like everyone else. There weren't that many people, about 50 all together but judging by the size of the bar, it would be a full house. You dress in a low-cut top, purposely choosing one that showed a decent amount of cleavage. A cardigan rests over your arm, and you opted for black leggings, the ones that made your ass look the best. If Eddie really did intend for this to be a date, you might as well look the best you could, with what you currently had in your closet. You hear your name being called out, and you see Eddie jog over to you. He’s wearing a sleeveless DIO shirt, and leather pants, his combat boots all untied. He looks so good. You’re practically drooling.

“What are you doing here?” He incredulously asks.

“I..you invited me.” You play with your fingers, nails digging into your skin.

“Babe, I meant in line.” He reaches out, grabbing your hand and pulls you out of the line, where all eyes then fall on you and him. You noticed a few girls eye Eddie, too. Almost like a prey. “You get backstage access, doll.” He whispers as he leanes into you, and smirks. “You’re VIP.” He holds your hand, and takes you to the back of the bar, opening the door that lead you inside. “After you.” He says, eyes falling to your ass. It looked so plump in those pants, so biteable.

“You look beautiful, by the way.” He says, admiring the subtle make up you had on. It wasn’t much, just some mascara and eyeliner. A little foundation to hide any blemishes and imperfections. “I like this top.” He runs his fingers over the fabric near your collarbone. Your cheeks heat up, as you send him a smile, looking down all shyly.

“Eddie!” A man calls out, and you look to your left. You assume that is Steve, and a girl walking alongside with him. Robin?

“Hey, man. Glad you could make it. Guys, this is Y/N. Y/N…this is Steve and Robin. And as I assumed, Nancy did not make it today.”

“Or ever. You know this isn’t her scene. She’s out with Jonathan, anyway.” Steve shrugged and turned his attention towards you. “Nice to meet you. Eddie has talked non stop about you.” He smirks over at Eddie who is internally cussing him out. “Let’s go get some good seats.” Robin smiles at you, and grabs your arm, locking it with hers as she pulls you to the stage floor.

“Ughhh Steve, why’d you say that? Now she’s going to think I’m obsessed.” Eddie rubs his face, giving him a look.

“Are you not?” Steve smirks, and crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. Eddie shook his head and bit his nails, nervously. “I like her, alot.” He admitted to Steve, eyes following you around as Robin decided which area was the best to stand at. He liked how nervous you were around him. You were the sweetest girl he’d ever known. On the opposite end, he also felt like a creep though. All the perverse thoughts he had about you. They’d come to him when he was in bed late at night, a rhythmic movement of his hand over his aching cock as he'd imagine his tongue deep in your wet, throbbing pussy, satisfying his hunger.

“I gotta get onstage, and set up.” He says to Steve, wanting to avoid any more of Steve’s banter. He nods, then meets up with you and Robin on the stage floor. Your gaze follows Eddie onstage, where he and the rest of the band finish setting up. He winks at you, and tunes his guitar. Most of all the equipment is there, just had to be connected and set up in the proper place.

“You excited to see the show? They’re actually really good! It’s a shame they haven’t been signed by a record label yet.” Robin says. You are caged in, front row, between both Robin and Steve. “Yeah, I’m excited. I just..don’t want to get my hopes up. Feelings hurt and all.” You say softly, seeing all the people from outside being let in.

“What do you mean? Their songs are not really offensive.” Robin says.

“Well, unless you’re someone with sensitive hearing. They’re loud.” Steve snorts.

“No, I mean. I don’t want Eddie to see me as..like the other girls that he brings here?” You say, a little unsure if you are going to get your point across. Their his friends, obviously they’re going to take his side.

Steve snorts again. “What girls?”

“All..the girls..?” You say, feeling a bit foolish at that moment. “This chick I work with knows Eddie. Says he brings all his dates here. And uhm, has his way with them. I'm not-it's not that I'm not attracted to him. He's super handsome, but I don't want it to be that type of date. I like him and don’t want it to be a one night stand type of date..” You nervously chew on the inside of your cheek.

Steve and Robin both start to laugh, a good belly laugh, which makes Eddie look at you three. What are they telling you about him?

“Y/N. He's NOT like that. At all. I don't know who that chick is, but Eddie is lucky if he's able to get a girl to look his way anymore.” Robin said.

“I mean, he's had girlfriends and dates, sure. But to say he brings all the girls here like he's some ladies man, is comical.” Steve said. “But don't tell him we said that.” He smirks. “Eddie is a great guy, Y/N. And I'm not just saying that because he's my best friend.” Steve looked up at him. “Shows starting.” He says to you, nudging your shoulder with his as the lights dim, and a loud guitar note plays. The stage area is packed with all the people from outside, and they cheer. The band seems to have a large following, people singing along to the songs. A lot of older, trucker looking guys and scattered were lots of girls too, older and younger, like yourself. In the middle of the setlist, you see Eddie grab the mic, placing his foot on the amp as he addresses the crowd, thanking them for coming out and supporting the band. He had a little surprise for you, and hoped you listened to Alice Cooper’s previous album, Trash, because he was going to cover one of the songs on there. He figured he’d take the risk and sing Spark in the Dark. The lyrics were quite suggestive, and maybe tonight, he’d be brave enough to make a first move.

You immediately recognized the guitar riff to the song, a big smile forming on your face, as you were by now more relaxed and enjoying the show, just like Robin and Steve suggested.

“Ah, welcome to the party.

It’s only me and you

Tell the world to go away, babe

And I’ll tell you what to do

Come over here and kiss me

I wanna pull your hair

Turn out the lights and hold me

I wanna touch you everywhere”

You sing along, all while your face is burning from the blush that spread over your cheeks, and thankful the stage lights are not pointed directly at you. You were certain you’d combust. You also notice a familiar sensation, one that was directly between your thighs. One that needed to be taken care of. Preferably by the front man looking down at you.

“We don’t need nobody, baby

We don’t need champagne

I’ll take you to the deepest

Darkest, hottest lover’s lane

For a little spark in the dark

Just a little spark in the dark.”

You’re staring at each other as he sings the song. You’re singing along, and he’s so good up there. Your favorite rockstar. You notice his hips move a little with every enunciation during the chorus. He grabs the mic stand, placing the mic on it as the guitar rests over his hips, hiding the semi he’s rocking right now thanks to the song’s lyrics and the perfect view he has of your cleavage.

“I’ll come ‘round midnight

We’ll be crawling on the floor

Burnin’ with a fever

And yellin’ out for more

But don’t you write in your diary, baby

Don’t blab it on the phone

‘Cause if your dad and mom find out,

They’ll skin me to the bone.

We don’t need instructions, baby

Don’t you be afraid

It takes a little friction, uh-uh

That’s how our love is made

For a little spark in the dark.”

You want to melt into a puddle once the song is finished, noticing the sweat that glistens his skin, still sporting that sleeveless tank top. He sings a few more covers, and once the show is over, he bows to everyone, then directly tosses you a guitar pick. You’re giddy, as you’re bouncing on your tippy toes, holding it between your fingers.

“Look at the fangirl, now.” Robin smirks, clapping as the band gets off stage. “We get backstage privileges, being long time friends of the band and all.” She laughs, walking to the back of the bar, noticing the crowd had spread out between leaving for the night, and others to sit at the bar. You follow Robin and Steve, until you reach a room that almost looked like a utility room with all the amps.”Hey!” Eddie says, wiping the sweat off with a small towel. He looks directly at you, as if Robin and Steve aren’t even in the room. “That was amazing! And…the cover was really good, too.” You blush and try not to be too obvious as your eyes scan his body. His shirt is all damp from his sweat, shirt stuck to his body. You could make out his toned stomach.

“I’d give you a thank you hug, but I smell. And I’m all sweaty.” He chuckles, noticing you shifting a little, your thighs pressing together. He gives you a little knowing smirk, and pulls out a cigarette, but Robin is quick to snatch it.

“No smoking. Especially not around your date.” Robin speaks out.

“You’re right. Bad habit, and manners. Sorry. sweetheart.” He cheekily smiles and puts away the pack of cigarettes.

“We gotta get going, but we’ll see you later, Eds. Come on Steve. Remember…we had that thing we had to do..” Robin says, pulling him on his arm. “OH right! That thing. Yes. Alright, you two have a good and eventful night. Nice meeting you, Y/N! We look forward to seeing you again real soon!!” Steve says as both him and Robin go running out. You let out a soft laugh then look over at Eddie, who is looking at you, not once did his sight move away from you.

“Can we..talk?” You say to him.

Oh fuck, did he do something wrong? Was it the way he was looking at you? Shit.

“Of course. We can step outside. It’s hot as fuck in here.” He says and you both walk out into the back of the bar, the loud slam of the door shutting making you jump. Eddie is nervous now. He’s sure you’re about to break the news to him that you don’t want anything to do with him. Maybe you found out of his late night activities, but that wouldn’t make any sense. He was sure you partake in those kinds of solo activities. Maybe you believed he was truly a devil worshipper. How can he convince you otherwise?

“I uhm, almost didn’t come tonight.” You start.

This makes his chest feel heavy. He’d done something, surely.

“How come?” His voice is small.

“I was stupid. I believed something someone at my job said about you.” Your stare is focused on the littered and dirty floor, not wanting to meet his eyes. You felt ashamed.

“What’d they say about me?”

“I-I don’t-”

“What’d they say about me, Y/N? I assure you..I’ve heard it all. I’m used to it at this point in my life.” He says, his tone was a bit more irate and cold than what you were used to him being with you. Your eyes took no time in watering, and now Eddie was ready to throw himself off a cliff for making you feel this way. He really fucked this up already, as he always does. Good job, Munson.

“She said that…you basically slept around. That you take them here on dates, and..and take them to that nasty bathroom for a quick fuck. Eddie, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have believed something like that. I just, I got scared to have my feelings and emotions played with. I didn’t want to be just another girl added to your roster.” You try to keep your composure as you talk to him, your eyes are for sure still watery, but by some miracle, you didn’t stutter. “If I’m being honest, I don’t have much experience with this. Like, yeah. I’ve done a few dates and all, but I've never had a boyfriend or had anyone touch me, or-”

“Sweetheart, it's ok.” Eddie takes a step forward and grabs both your shaky hands, holding them in his, practically engulfing them. “Look at me.” His voice is low, and he places a finger under your chin, tipping your head up. “I promise you, I am not that type of person. People will say a million things about me, and I can guarantee that most of them are just rumors. I certainly do not sleep around. I can't remember the last time I had a legitimate date with someone, let alone fuck someone.” He risked making himself look a loser just to make you feel better. His hand goes up to your cheek, and caresses it, letting out a chuckle. “Baby, there's no one I desire more than you…and I want to kiss you so bad.” He whispers, taking another step forward, his scent invading you. “Give me a chance to prove to you..I'm not like whatever these stupid fucks said about me.” His lips are impossibly close to yours, making your breath hitch at the close proximity. “Kiss me.” His voice is raspy. You embrace each other, your lips pressing together as the kiss deepens slowly. It was the first time you've experienced a true, deep kiss. You were sure he could tell. You opened your mouth, letting his hot tongue in to glide along yours and the quiet whine you let out makes him want to take you right there and then. You were inexperienced, yes, but quickly learned to breathe through your nose and move your mouth with his. Eddie's hand rested on your hips, and the other was around the nape of your neck, pulling you against him even closer, wanting to hear those whines again.

“Alright, get a room, you two.” Gareth groaned, hauling the large amp into the van that was a few feet away from you both. You blush heavily as you both simultaneously pull away from each other. “We will continue this at your place? I got to finish helping the guys..” Eddie breathed heavy, a similar rosy shade painted over his cheeks.

“Yes, I'll leave my door unlocked. You can just come in..”

“Hm, sweetheart. I don't think that's a good idea. What if the big, bad wolf gets in? And wants to eat yah?” Eddie smirks.

“I certainly count on it.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fics #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fandom #fluff #stranger things #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #some steve and Robin #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x fem!reader fluff #eddie munson x fem!reader smut

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amiableness · 8 months ago

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Tulips BONUS

THIS IS A BONUS CHAPTER TO TULIPS 🤍

Pairing: Sirius Black x Fem!Reader

Summary: Sirius and reader forget to lock the door, and Remus walks in on them having sex.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: SMUT! Rem walks in on Sirius and Reader, oral (fem receiving), p in v, and a smidge of possessiveness and jealousy.

A/N 💌 This has taken me so long and I apologize! I would also like to say that smut is not my strong suit, so I sincerely apologize is this sucks. Also thank you to @moonlightspencie for all the ideas! Love you all!

.·。.·゜✭·.·��·゜·。.

If you had been in your right mind, you would have felt guilty. It wasn’t like you to make plans and ditch them without any notice. You could almost hear Remus’s disappointed sigh, and you knew that once you snapped out of your daze, the guilt would hit hard. But in this moment, with Sirius's lips gently nipping at your neck and his soft kisses soothing away the sting, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. The warmth of his breath against your skin and the tender way he murmured your name made it impossible to think of anything else. The world outside of his dorm simply didn’t exist.

The sheets of his bed are strewed about, and the coolness to them is long gone. He’s propped up beside you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear. It had only been a few months since the two of you had gotten together, and his hazy effect on you had yet to fade. All he had to do was smile at you; you were putty in his hands. Sirius’s hands traced lazy patterns on your back, each touch sending shivers of pleasure through you.

You reassured yourself that you and Remus could always reschedule the study session for another night.

“S’pretty, angel.” Sirius murmurs softly as he pulls back, his breath warm against your skin. He drags his thumb slowly along your jawline, his touch gentle yet possessive. He watches the way your chest rises and falls, your breathing ragged and uneven. A smug smile tugs at the corners of his lips, knowing that he’s hardly done anything and yet, you’re already so worked up. The intensity of your reaction to his slightest touch fuels his confidence, making him want to tease you even more.

"Sirius," You whisper, your voice coming out much needier than you intended. The vulnerability in your tone is impossible to hide, but Sirius eats it up, his eyes darkening with desire. He revels in the effect he has on you, his smile widening as he leans in closer, the air between you charged with unspoken longing. “Touch me. Please.”

"I am touching you." He responds, his voice low and teasing. His hand trails down your body, fingers grazing your skin before pinching lightly at the outer flesh of your thigh, sending a jolt of sensation through you.

Your lips part in a gasp, and you quickly purse them, trying to regain control over your reaction. “You know what I mean.”

“I wanna hear you say it.” He grins and for a second, you feel too shy to tell him what you need. But Sirius gazes at you with such intense love and desire that it leaves you breathless and lessens the sting of embarrassment.

“I want you to finger me.” Your cheeks heat furiously, a an apprehensive look spreading across your face. Your fingers absentmindedly fiddle with the buttons on Sirius's shirt, the small task a futile attempt to steady your racing heart. The smooth fabric and cool buttons provide a comforting distraction. It wasn’t like he hadn’t touched you before. He definitely had, but summoning the confidence to ask for something like that was difficult for you still.

“That’s my girl.” Sirius praises, leaning forward to place a sweet kiss against your lips, as if to reward you for asking for what you wanted.

When his lips met yours, it wasn’t rough or fast—it was gentle and soft, as if he wanted to take all the time in the world with you. He brushed his lips against yours with exquisite tenderness, his hands slipping into your hair and tangling in the strands, relishing the feeling of you pressed against him. His kisses were tender and unhurried, each one sending waves of warmth through you, making you melt into him completely. The sensation of his lips moving slowly against yours was intoxicating, drawing you deeper into the moment.

He shifted, his body covering yours, as he pressed soft kisses to your lips and then down to your neck, each touch filled with a tenderness that made your heart swell. You could feel his love and care in every movement.

He brushed his lips against yours, mumbling about how much he loved kissing you, making you smile against his lips. His hands trailed over your body, barely touching your skin but enough to leave goosebumps in their wake. When he reached your hips, he gave a gentle squeeze, eliciting a soft gasp from you. Sitting up, he used one arm to bring you up with him, his strength both comforting and exhilarating. He shifted so you were now sat in his lap, your thighs bracketing his.

You couldn't fathom how you had gone so long without kissing Sirius; now that he was yours, you never wanted it to stop. His hands trailed along your thighs, squeezing and massaging the flesh every so often, sending shivers through you. The way he touched you was both playful and reverent, making you feel cherished and desired in a way you had never experienced before.

"Sirius." You sighed softly, the sound carrying a mixture of affection and longing. You pulled back just enough to rest your forehead against his, feeling the warmth of his skin against yours. His hands gently cradled your face, his touch tender and reassuring, as if he wanted to memorize every contour..

"Yeah, angel?" He asked softly, his voice filled with tenderness and a touch of eagerness. His eyes bore into yours, brimming with love and a hint of mischief, ready to give you anything you asked for.

“I need more.”

“Arms up, baby.” He told you as he pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it to the ground. Watching his eyes raking up and down your body made you dizzy. You let his eyes take in your body before tugging at the hem of his shirt, silently telling him that you wanted it off. Your chance to admire him, drag your fingertips over the dips and ridges of him, and listen to the way his breath hitched in his throat.

After years of pining after you, he could still hardly believe that he had his dream girl sitting on top of him and looking at him with so much love and desire. What did he ever do to deserve this? To deserve you?

“You’re fucking beautiful.” He mumbles as he slips his fingers under your white bra straps, letting them fall down your shoulders. His eyes tracked the movement, and you smiled softly at the way he watched you with so much admiration.

"Thank you. You're pretty beautiful too." You tease softly, circling your arms around his neck. Sirius responds with a devastating smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. You're so close that your noses nearly touch, the intimate proximity making your heart race. He places a quick, playful kiss on your nose, and the giggle you let out is pathetically lovesick.

"Damn right." He mumbles with a playful smirk, making you laugh.

You are about to reach around your back to rid yourself of your bra when Sirius stops you. Shooting you a cocky grin, he pushes your hands away from your bra to do it himself. The second your bra falls, Sirius lets out a curse. It has been months since you two first slept together, but every time he sees your body, it’s like the first time.

He swears that your tits are the most beautiful he’s ever seen. If he didn’t already know he was in love with you, that would be his clue.

His mouth closed around your nipple, biting gently, ripping a gasp from your throat. Your back arched into his chest to give him better access. His arm wraps around your waist to haul you closer to him. Beneath you, you could feel how quickly this was turning him on. His hair was wild from when you had your fingers running through his hair. Soft sighs were filling the room as he licked and sucked, alternating between both of your tits. The wetness between your legs was growing more apparent as he touched you.

He grabbed your waist and moved you off of his lap, pushing you down so that you were laid out underneath him. His hands slipped under the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down, bringing your underwear with them. Your first reaction was to close your legs, still shy at the idea of him seeing you like this. But he gently placed his hands on your knees and pushed them apart, whispering soft praises to you as he did so.

You sat up as he stood at the end of his bed, slipping his pants down. Wetness pooled between your thighs as his cock was released from his underwear. You weren’t sure you would ever get used to seeing him like this. A quick kiss was placed on your lips before his fingers brushed against your collarbone, pushing you back on the bed. With your back against the pillows and your legs spread, he finally got to look at all of you. All bare and glistening, and he swore he had never been harder in his life. He glanced up at you, asking for permission, and you nodded. Pressing kisses from your ankles to between your thighs, he slowly made his way to where you wanted him most.

“S’wet for me, love.” You could only answer with a whimper as trailed his fingers over your clit, causing you to sigh in pleasure. He was gentle, carefully watching your reaction as he teased you.

He moved slowly as he began to circle your clit, taking his time to warm you up. His eyes flickered back to you, drinking in the sight of your head pressed back against the pillows, your eyes closed, and soft sighs falling from your lips. The gentle rise and fall of your chest and the way your body responded to his touch filled him with a mix of tenderness and desire.

Watching you laid out in his sheets, withering in pleasure, all because of him? It caused heat to build in his stomach as he considered the idea of this being his forever. He could spend the rest of his life worshipping you like this, and he hoped to Godric you would let him.

The moan you let out was pornographic when he replaced his fingers with his mouth, letting his tongue slide along your pussy. From the bottom to the top, he licked through your folds. You could feel yourself dripping down onto the sheets, but you knew he wouldn’t care about the mess you were making.

You knew there was no way you would last long. Between the way his fingers pumped in and out of you so deliciously and the way he sucked and licked at your clit so gently was driving you crazy. With your back arched and your head tossed back into his pillows, you whimpered out a plea for him to stop.

Sirius had pulled away from you instantly, worry etched across his features. The last thing he wanted was to do something that made you uncomfortable.“What’s wrong, angel?”

“Fuck. Nothing’s wrong,” You had to clear your throat in order to get the words out. “I just-” Sirius thumbed at your hip to comfort you, watching as you shifted so you were holding yourself up by your elbows and looking down at him.

“Can you fuck me?” Your voice trembled softly, your eyes flickering nervously between his. Sirius wanted to cry. Could you get any more perfect?

He didn’t trust his voice, so he said nothing, just leaned down to kiss your stomach before reaching beside the bed. He dug around in his drawer before grabbing a condom and ripping at the foil packet with his teeth. You sent him a soft smile, watching as he rolled the condom over his length and situated himself so he was between your legs.

Once settled, Sirius tenderly brushed a lock of your hair behind your ear and leaned in, resting his forehead against yours.

"Y’okay?" He asked, his voice laced with concern as he searched your eyes. You offered him a reassuring smile, feeling his warmth and care in the way he looked at you.

His hands wrapped securely around your ankles, the warmth of his touch pulling you closer across the soft, rumpled sheets. Laughter bubbled from you uncontrollably as he leaned in, planting a trail of tender kisses across your cheeks and forehead. The sound of your giggles subsided, replaced by a moment of quiet intensity as he leaned back, his gaze locking onto yours with a mixture of affection and desire. Your heart raced at the way he looked at you, and without hesitation, you reached up, threading your fingers through his hair, gently guiding his face back down to meet yours in a lingering kiss.

The kiss quickly deepened into an intense exchange, each of you vying for control. Sirius’s hand brushed against the side of your body, trailing down to reach between your legs while the other held himself above you. Your lips parted into a gasp when he brushed against your clit, and he took the opportunity to kiss you harder.

There was no way you could attempt to lead the kiss with Sirius brushing circles over your clit. You could hardly even think really. How could you when it was Sirius that was between your legs?

He pulled away to sit up, gently repositioning you until you were situated at the edge of the bed. His palms circled your ankles, pushing back on your legs until you were bent in half for him. Pussy fully on displayed for him. A satisfied hum emanated from his throat as he brought his fingers back to slide through your wetness.

And it wasn’t long before his cock replaced his fingers, teasing your clit before sliding the tip inside you.

At the feeling, both of you let out satisfied moans. Sirius quickly grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers before fully pushing inside of you slowly. “Godric,” He was nearly gone. “So fucking perfect.” All you could do was moan in response.

His thrusts began slow, sliding in and out of you at an agonizing pace, making you cry out at him to go faster. He didn’t listen.

“You look so pretty getting fucked,” He reached his right hand down, using his thumb to rub against your clit in the slowest circles. “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”

If you hadn’t been so fucked out, you would’ve been embarrassed at hearing how wet you were. Your cries were desperate, pathetic. And if you were more coherent, you might have admitted that you weren't doing anything at all—it was all him. But you couldn't find it in you to complain.

“Faster. I need you to go faster.” You voice was as desperate as you felt.

“I’m being romantic. Fucking you nice and slow.” Sirius grins at the unimpressed look you send him.

“Fuck me harder. Romantically.”

Sirius laughs, but obliges you. Dragging his cock through your cunt just a little bit faster, a little bit rougher. If your reaction is any indication, the change in pace is perfect for you.

He watches, mesmerized as your tits bounced with the pace he was setting and the way your head was thrown to the side, eyes closed, and lips parted for your desperate moans to slip through.

His left hand traced the curve of your side, pausing to squeeze your side, traveling further down until he gripped your hip. It didn’t take long for the view of you fucked out and desperate underneath him for him to lose his patience. There was only so much he could take of watching your pussy take him him so well before he decided this pace wasn’t nearly enough.

When he slipped out of you, you desperately cried in protest. But with a light slap on your outer thigh, he encouraged you to flip over. You relaxed into the sheets, content to burry your cheek against his crumbled comforter. Sirius seemed just as content as he drags him fingers down your spine, both his palms coming up to massage and knead at your ass. Your skin prickled with goosebumps as he placed as kiss on your lower back, right at the swell of your ass.

Impatient, you wiggled your hips, “Sirius, please.”

“Just admiring my view, angel.”

“I need-” Your words die on your tongue as you feel his cock push past your folds, entering your without any resistance. He doesn’t hold back this time, eager to set a more brutal pace. The sounds filling the room are obscene, and he realizes that this is the first time you two are having sex where it isn’t considered making love. But he can safely admit that he loves all versions of sex with you equally.

Lifting yourself up so your back was pressed against him and your neck was exposed so he could press kisses against you. His arms slid around your waist, his right hand going up to grab at your tits as he nipped at your neck. Your legs felt shaky as he held you up and against him. The moans that filled your ears being this close to him drove you crazy. You didn’t think you would ever get used to hearing him like this. So fucked out and close to coming.

“Love, please go harder.”

“You want me to fuck you harder, baby?” You babbled incoherently in response, making Sirius grin.

“Beg me, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Sirius! Please, I need more of your cock. I want you to take me, be rough with me.”

He pushed you forward, forcing you back on all fours. You let out a loud ‘fuck’ when he shoved his cock back into you, not sure how long you could hold yourself up. His hands gripped your hips tightly, keeping you in place, and he slid his cock in and out of you, the room filling with both of your moans.

“Is that what you wanted, baby? Wanted to be fucked harder?”

As he quickened his pace, you stuck your ass in the air and pressed your cheek against the bed, raising your arms above your head as he fucked you. Your fingers were tangled in the sheets, and you knew anyone walking by could probably hear you. Out of all the times you had been with a guy, you didn’t think you had ever been this loud. Each time he thrust into you, you let out a high-pitched moan, unable to stop yourself.

So focused on the feeling of Sirius fucking you within an inch of your life you don’t notice the door open. With your cheek buried in the sheets, you didn't hear anything, nor did you see Remus standing there, his features displaying a mixture of shock and jealousy. But Sirius did. For a moment, he faltered, eyes locking with Remus's in silent astonishment. Then your protests filled the room, snapping his attention back to you.

“I want you to cum in me, baby. Please.” Your voice was wrecked, the strain evident in every word, and Sirius’s eyes widened in surprise at your unexpected request. It was a shift he hadn't anticipated. He glanced up, catching Remus's intense glare, his expression a mix of disbelief and anger, before Remus abruptly turned on his heel and slammed the door shut behind him. The suddenness of Remus's exit left Sirius momentarily bewildered.

How had you not noticed? Were you that fucked out for him?

Remus had stood there no less than ten seconds. And maybe it was because there was no way he had seen you. Not with the way you were angled and how Sirius had you pressed into the sheets.

But a sense of smug satisfaction began to creep over him—tinged with possessiveness. Maybe Remus would back the fuck off now that he saw how desperate you were for his cock. How wrecked and desperate you were, eager to be filled with his cum. And while he couldn’t because he was wearing a condom—Remus didn’t know that. The next time he saw you, he knew Remus would only be able to think about how fucked out you were for a guy that wasn’t him.

He knew he would have to tell you what happened, but right now, with you begging so sweetly for him. He couldn’t resist.

He fucked you rough. Eager to hear your whimpers and cries as he buried himself deep inside of you, pushing you further and further toward the edge. Maybe it was fucked up; how he was turned on by the idea of Remus knowing that you got so desperate for him.

But he couldn’t help it. You were his. And he liked the idea of everyone knowing that. Especially Remus, who was still very much in love with you.

“Sirius, I’m getting close,” You whined, your voice shaky as he pounded into you. “Gonna cum!”

“Shit. Cum on my cock, sweetheart.” You knew you could let go, he sounded like he wasn’t far behind you. You could tell by his quickened pace and sloppy thrusts.

When you felt him grab your hips hard and pound into you a few more times, you knew you could let go with him.

“Sirius! Yes, I-”

“I know, fuck. I’m gonna cum.” At that admission, your back arches as you feel your pussy squeeze around him. The moans leaving you were beyond loud, and you hoped to Godric no one had heard you.

“Fuck.” He grunted as he thrust one final time into you before squeezing your hips tightly. The feeling of him twitching inside you sent you over the edge. You let go, pleasure coursing through you as you felt your whole body shake as the feeling shot through your entire body.

“Jesus, baby.” Sirius mumbled as his head dropped to your back. You let out a giggle, understanding how fucked out he was feeling.

He slowly slid out, falling onto the bed next to you. You let your hips drop, moving so that you were on your side facing him. You were both breathing hard and knew you would need a shower and clean sheets after this.

"I love you. So much." You tell him earnestly, your voice brimming with sincerity. Sirius smiles softly at you, his heart squeezing at the sight of your messy hair and flushed cheeks. He reaches out, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering.

"I love you too, angel." He murmurs, his voice filled with warmth and affection.

Now, he just had to break the news about Remus.

#sirius black x reader #sirius black smut #sirius black imagine #sirius black au #sirius black x fem!reader #sirius black x you #sirius black x y/n #sirius black fanfiction

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darkwitchoferie · 2 months ago

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Train Ride

Summary: You start off as just Chan’s beloved girlfriend and end up in bed with all the members.

A/N: This is an expansion of a little oneshot I wrote on Tumblr. Link here. It is specifically an expansion on each of the scenarios in the oneshot, and maybe an additional chapter or two after that. Also, timing wise, this story does take place in the spring/summer. Seungmin’s chapter involves a baseball game and that’s a specific season. So, in case you wonder why anybody’s hair doesn’t reflect their current styles – that’s why. There are, at the moment, 8 planned chapters. That could change.

Also, for you - @skzficpriv for your comment on the original oneshot and therefore the encouragement to actually finish writing these out. Thank you darling!

This post contains sexual content, read at your own discretion.

General cw/tw for the whole fic, not just this chapter: talks of consensual somnophilia, free-use reader, unprotected p in v sex, vaginal sex, talk of and thoughts of sexual fantasies, anal sex between members, oral (m & f receiving), exhibition/voyeurism (thought not actually in public), polyamory, multi-partner sex, established relationship between Chan x fem Reader as well as between Han x Lee Know. 2nd person POV (you/your). I think that's all, might need to add more later.

wc: 2923

Master list

Chan tossed the wet cloth he’d used to clean you and himself into the hamper then lay back down beside you, tugging you over so you could curl comfortably into his side. He chuckled at your feeble protests at being moved, which stopped as soon as you felt the warmth of his bare skin against yours again. You burrowed in, pressing your face to his side.

On a yawn you muttered, “Wish we’d invite the boys to play with me,” before going limp as you faded into sleep.

Chan froze, looking down at your sleeping face. Surely you didn’t mean what he thought he heard? You couldn’t possibly mean that you wanted the rest of the group to join you two in your bed. Right? He thought about shaking you awake and asking, but knew that was pointless, you wouldn’t be any more coherent until after a full night’s sleep. He tried to calm his mind, reassured that he’d be able to ask about it tomorrow, and eventually fell asleep.

He woke up later than he intended the next morning. Quietly rushing around, so as not to wake you before you needed to be up, he didn’t even remember what you’d whispered until he was walking into the JYPE building and caught sight of Felix and Seungmin walking ahead of him. He stopped in his tracks in the lobby, your sleepy words playing on a loop in his head as he watched his two friends head for the elevators, unaware that he was behind them. He shook himself out of it when one of the company’s security guards tapped him on the shoulder. He thanked the man, saying something about not sleeping well, and made his way up to the recording studio he was expected in.

On his way up, he thought over his reaction, both just then in the lobby and the night before. If he’d been posed a hypothetical question like, how do you think you’d react if your girlfriend said she wanted your friend to fuck her – his immediate reaction would’ve been to say he’d hate the idea. He was possessive of you, everyone knew it. But that wasn’t the way he’d reacted to your words. Instead he was … interested might be too strong a word, but definitely intrigued. He resolved to compartmentalize it in his mind and focus on work until he could talk to you about it.

That lasted for maybe an hour. Until Minho groaned in frustration at getting the English wrong again and Chan’s mind immediately, and without conscious decision, jumped to wondering if he’d make similar noises while fucking you. That single thought started the spiral for him. After that his mind wander and he started to wonder more. What would Hyunjin’s face look like when he sank into your cunt? Did Changbin have as much of a thing for tits as Chan suspected he did? Would Felix's voice go deep or into his higher pitches?

And what about you? Would you make the same noises if Jeongin was the one fucking you as you did when it was him? Would you whine the same way for Seungmin? Who would be whinier – you or Jisung? He was absolutely sure Jisung was loud during sex and now, he was allowing himself to wonder exactly what sounds he and the others would make.

Now that he was thinking these thoughts, he was also recalling every interaction you’d had with the other members recently. How Jeongin’s eyes trailed after you when you walked around their apartment. Or how Jisung’s and Felix’s hugs lingered, something he’d always chalked up to both boys being tactile people to begin with. How Changbin’s hands slid just a little too close to your boobs when he hugged you from behind without actually touching them. Or how Hyunjin always insisted you were the best pose model for whatever he was working on and that he needed an otherwise empty room to focus. The way Minho would look at you sometimes and how similar it was to the way he looked at Jisung and they all knew the pair of them were sleeping together, despite not officially being a couple. How Seungmin didn’t even pretend to shy away from your touch if you happened to be sitting beside him during group gatherings. Or a million other things that he was suddenly looking at in a different light that made him wonder.

He had never really thought about defining his sexuality. You’d asked him about it once and he said he was attracted to people, not their gender. But he had admitted to you that, at the time you got together, he had a bit more experience with guys than with girls, which he’d chalked up to being a trainee throughout puberty. But he’d never allowed himself to delve too deeply into any attraction he might feel for his members, fearing it would make him awkward around them. Now though? Now it seemed that your half-asleep comment had lifted a lid off a box in his mind and all sorts of thoughts were tumbling out.

When they stopped for lunch, he made the seven of them leave ahead of him, playing it off as wanting some privacy to call you. The truth was, with his thoughts spiraling into the territory they were, he was hard. Very hard, and there was no way he could stand up from the desk and it not be obvious. He took several deep breaths, screwing his eyes shut, clenching his hands into fists, and tried to will away his boner. Eventually, he called Hannah and that helped instantly, putting him back on an even keel.

Then came dance practice in the afternoon and that put his mind right back in the gutter. Any body roll or anything that looked even vaguely like a hip thrust had him internally struggling with new images. Once, he excused himself to the bathroom and had to take care of his problem before it became too evident. Or at least, he hoped it hadn’t been noticeable.

The day ended earlier than usual, owing to Hyunjin and Felix both having separate photoshoots. While normally, Chan would take advantage of the early end and head back into the recording studio, maybe with Jisung and Changbin, maybe without them, this time he headed straight for your apartment.

“Channie!” You grinned up at him from behind your computer set up in the living room. One of the best perks, to your mind, about working from home was the ability to move your set up out into the living room or kitchen, or really anywhere that wasn’t your home office for a scenery change. “Everything okay?” You could tell immediately that something had your boyfriend edgy. Hopefully everything had gone well at the company.

“Yeah, everything’s okay. Almost done for the day?” He nodded at your computer.

“Just about. I was gonna make a pizza, do you want to pop it into the oven while I finish up?”

“Yeah, baby girl. That sounds perfect.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head as he walked by. He paced the length of your kitchen and back again as he waited, first for the oven to heat, then the pizza to cook. He could hear you working on your computer and didn’t want to interrupt, but he really needed to deal with everything that had been going on in his head all day. Now, surrounded by the familiarity of your apartment, nothing changed. He was still thinking about his friends and wondering how you’d look pinned under Changbin, riding Seungmin, or bent over for Minho.

By the time the pizza was done and you were shutting down your work laptop, he still hadn’t decided if he should just ask you about it, or if he needed to fuck you first, to at least get himself somewhat under control so you could have this conversation. He heard you packing away your set up and taking it into your home office, so he sliced up the pizza and brought two plates out into the living room.

“Thank you, baby,” you grinned at him, sitting beside him and snuggling into his side while you both ate.

Normally, your proximity like this would calm Chan, no matter what kind of day he’d had. You’d snuggle into his side, and he’d relax back into the couch cushions. Not this day. The fingers on his free hand tapped incessantly against your shoulder or the back of the couch. He kept shifting around and could not say at all what show you’d put on the tv.

You waited, somewhat patiently, sure he’d tell you what was going on after a while. Meanwhile, Chan was wondering how the hell to even bring it up. Eventually, you got tired of waiting. “Baby, what’s wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

You sat up to look directly at him. “You’re edgy, babe. Like you get when something’s bugging you. What is it?”

“It’s not…. It’s about what you said last night, before you fell asleep.” At your puzzled look, he said, “You don’t remember?”

“Channie baby, I’m lucky I remembered my own name by the time you were done with me last night.” Smug, Chan grinned and puffed up his chest. “You’re going to have to remind me what I said.” You grinned, playfully rolling your eyes at his smug grin.

“You said, um…. You said you wished we’d invited the guys over so they could play with you too.” Your mind raced. The pair of you had talked about fantasies before, but you’d never voiced that thought out loud, afraid of how Chan would react. Would he think differently of you? If you denied it, would he even believe you? Was he disgusted by you? Or would he think you had or would be willing to cheat on him? Maybe he’d just get really possessive and fuck you into the couch and afterwards you could both pretend you’d never said anything.

Your thoughts were racing so fast that you didn’t realize the time for denial had passed. At least until Chan says, “Baby girl? Did you mean it?”

“I, uh… no?” You tried denying it, but no one would believe a denial that came out sounding that unsure.

“I think you did. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it all day, baby. Do you know how hard it’s been to get any work done today with these thoughts?” With your terrible denial, Chan grew bolder. You looked away from his face, biting the edge of your thumbnail out of nervousness. When you looked down, you noticed the bulge in his pants. Your eyes widened and shot back up to his face. “Do you have any clue how hard it’s been, all day?” He asked, pressing a palm against his clothed dick. “Hearing Minho groaning into the mic? Seeing Hyunjin roll his hips and wondering….” He trailed off, eyes darkening as he realized that your mind had immediately followed his train of thought and now you were thinking all the same things he’d been thinking.

“You’d… I mean, you’re not upset? That I’ve thought about them, like that?” You asked in a small voice, still somewhat unsure of exactly where this conversation was headed.

Your bed, it turned out, was where the conversation was headed. Chan had gripped your hips, pulling you onto his lap and hungrily kissing you without another word. He’d damn near torn your shirt trying to get it off as quickly as possible before groaning when he realized you hadn’t bothered with a bra that morning. You arched into him as he closed his lips around one nipple, teasing the other with his fingers.

When you started to roll your hips against the bulge in his pants, he’d stood up with you in his arms and swiftly strode to your bedroom, tossing you onto the bed and following right behind you. He didn’t give you time to get your bearings or get situated before he was tugging off your lounge pants and panties. His lips were back to roaming on your neck and chest as his hands smoothed up your thighs, pushing them apart so he could slot himself comfortably between them.

You’d gone from nervous to turned on so quickly that you were struggling to keep up with him, eventually just giving in and letting yourself feel his fingers, lips, and tongue, rather than try to keep track of exactly where your boyfriend’s roaming hands were. Until you felt the pad of his thumb pressing against your clit. You gasped, arching and trying to press yourself harder against that single digit.

“Aw, is baby girl needy?” he teased.

“Channie, please.”

He grinned, leaning down to nip at your collar bone. “You have to do something for me though.”

“Anything,” you agreed, desperate to have him. He pulled completely away from you and you whined. Then you looked over and saw he was standing so he could strip himself. As soon as his boxers were kicked off, you reached for him, pulling him back to you by his wrist.

He claimed your lips in a hungry kiss, right hand sliding down your tummy, over your hip, and covering your pussy. With less gentleness than usual, he dipped first one, then two fingers into you. He didn’t spend much time prepping you, just thrusting his fingers into you a few times before deciding he couldn’t wait anymore. But as wet and turned on as you were, you had no problems stretching to accept him.

He bottomed out inside you, your legs wrapped around his hips, him propped up on his hands and leaning over you. Before he started moving, he said, “You have to tell me what you’ve thought of.” At your blank look, he elaborated. “You’ve thought about my friends. Tell me what you’ve thought about. You said you wanted them to play with you, but I’m sure you have details.”

You groaned, partly embarrassed to be having this conversation but mostly because that was when he started to move. He started off with long, slow thrusts, letting you feel every inch of him dragging through your walls. You knew he’d been turned on by his own thoughts, but part of you was still nervous how he’d react to your fantasies.

“Promise you won’t be mad?”

“How could I possibly be mad at you?” he countered.

It took you a while, between your moans and gasps, but you finally told him your favorite fantasies. “I want them to use me,” you started off. “Whenever they want. Like when I’m wearing the necklace you bought me so you can fuck me whenever, wherever. I wanna do that for them too.” You gasped, arching against a particularly hard thrust. “Let them fuck me when I’m asleep after a long day like you do. Or – oh God – call me to the dance studio or recording studio ‘cause something’s not going right so you’re all stressed.” You dug your nails into Chan’s back as he leaned down and bit your neck, sucking a deep purple mark into the skin there. “Wanna cock warm Lixie while he’s gaming or Minnie while he’s reading. Be passed around to everybody during movie night. Wanna ride Bin’s thigh after a workout, when he’s still all sweaty. Let Hyune paint me naked or paint on me, then fuck him.”

As Chan’s thrusts got rougher, it got harder to speak, but you kept going at his insistence. “Wanna – ah – wanna sit on Ji’s face. Suck on Innie’s fingers while he fucks me. Let Minho bend me over the balcony fence so I have to be real quiet.”

Chan had your legs bent up so your knees were at your chest when you finally clenched around him, orgasm rushing through you. Every scenario you gave him, brought him closer to his own orgasm and he followed right behind you, the warmth of his cum flooding into you. He brought your legs down, gently massaging your thighs as you both worked to catch your breath.

With a burst of courage, probably encouraged by how he’d reacted to everything else so far, you decided to tell him one final fantasy. But still, you wrapped your legs around his hips to hold him to you, just in case. “I’d be happy with all that, and more. But I’d like to date them too, if they wanted.” You got quieter as you spoke, suddenly afraid that he might think you thought he wasn’t enough for you.

Chan shifted against you, not moving away, just shifting so he could look up at your face. “I wondered, earlier today, and probably before if I’m being really honest, about kissing them. Think I’d like kissing Lix or maybe Hyune the most. Well, no, maybe most is wrong.” He sighed, shifting again and resting his head between your boobs before he continued. “Point is, I know you love me. I love you too.” He kissed the side of your boob. “But I am totally okay with one or both of us dating one or a couple or all of them.”

You relaxed your legs, letting them drop to either side of his hips. Then started gently carding your fingers through his sweaty hair.

A short while later, as you were cleaning up in the shower, Chan asked, “So, would you want to try to see how many of your fantasies we can bring to life?”

#skz smut #stray kids smut #skz x reader #skz ot8 x reader #bang chan x reader #yang jeongin x reader #felix x reader #hyunjin x reader #changbin x reader #kim seungmin x reader #lee minho x reader #han jisung x reader

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libraford · 1 month ago

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A local organization here has released a list of books that they feel are imperative to have in the time ahead. The list was not easily shareable, so I copy-pasted it here.

There is no need to read all of these, but one thing you can do that takes little effort is call your library and see if they have them in stock.

If you are moneyed, you can buy some copies and put them in little free libraries.

EDUCATING FOR ADVOCACY BOOK LIST

All books are written by authors from that culture

BOOKS FOR ADULTS

(2024) Be a Revolution: How Everyday People are Fighting Oppression and Changing the World - and How You Can, Too by Ijeoma Oluo

Each chapter discusses how someone is advocating for oppressed populations

and has examples of how others can do the same or similar.

(2024) The Message by Ta-Nehisi Coates

The author travels to Senegal, South Carolina and Palestine and grapples with deep questions and emotions.

(2023) Better Living Through Birding: Notes From a Black Man in the Natural World by Christian Cooper

A memoir of a Black man learning to claim space for himself and others like him.

(2022) Myth America: Historians Take On the Biggest Legends and Lies about Our Past Edited by Kevin M. Kruse and Julian E. Zelizer

The title explains it so well.

(2022) South to America: A Journey Below the Mason Dixon to Understand the Soul of a Nation by Imani Perry

History, rituals, and landscapes of the American South and why they must be understand it in order to understand America.

(2022) Memphis by Tara M. Stringfellow

Tells the story of 3 generations of a Southern Black family in Memphis.

(2021) How the Word is Passed: A Reckoning with the History of Slavery Across America by Clint Smith

An exploration of important monuments and landmarks in the USA that show

how slavery has been foundational in the development and history of our country.

(2021) The Sum of Us: What Racism Costs Everyone and How We Can Prosper Together by Heather McGhee

The title explains it.

(2021) The Seed Keeper by Diane Wilson

Historical fiction telling the story of several generations of a Dakota family

(2020) The Good Immigrant: 26 Writers Reflect on America edited by Nikesh Shukla and Chimene Suleyman

26 authors share their stories of living in the USA.

(2020) Caste: The Origins of Our Discontents by Isabel Wilkerson

Examines the unspoken caste system that has shaped America and shows how we continue to be defined in this way..

(2020) This Is What America Looks Like: My Journey from Refugee to Congresswoman

by Ilhan Omar

This title explains it.

(2019) The 1619 Project: A New Origin Story by Nikole Hannah Jones (among others)

Reframes our understanding of American history by placing slavery and its continuing legacy at the center of our national narrative.

(2019) Things are Good Now by Djamila Ibrahim

Stories of how migrants sort out their lives in foreign lands.

(2018) So You Want to Talk About Race by Ijeoma Oluo

An examination of race in America.

(2018) I’m Still Here by Austin Channing Brown

A memoir telling her journey of learning to love her blackness while navigating America's racial divide.

(2018) If They Come for Us by Fatimah Asghar

Poetry that captures the experience of being a Pakistani Muslim woman in contemporary America, while exploring identity, violence, and healing.

(2016) Stamped from the Beginning: The Definitive History of History of Racist Ideas in America by Ibram X. Kendi

Traces the history of Black America.

(2015) Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates

A memoir, in the form of a letter to his young son, telling his personal experiences with racism and violence in the United States.

(2015) My Seneca Village by Marilyn Nelson

Poetry and information about Seneca Village – a multi-racial, multi-ethnic neighborhood in the center of Manhattan (Central Park ) that thrived in the mid-19th century.

(2014) An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz

Tells the 400+ years of US history, from the perspective of Indigenous peoples

(2013) Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom Scientific Knowledge, and the Teaching of Plants by Robin Wall Kimmerer

Explores the place of plants and botany in both Indigenous and Western life.

(2010) The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America’s Great Migration by Isabel Wilkerson

Follows the stories of three Black Americans’ migration journeys from Mississippi, Florida and Louisiana.

(2010) The New Jim Crow: Mass Incarceration in the Age of Colorblindness

By Michelle Alexander

Explains how we haven’t ended, but have redesigned, the caste system in the U.S.

(1972) Lame Deer, Seeker of Visions by John (Fire) Lame Deer and Richard Erdoes

Told by Lame Deer, a Lakota medicine man, this memoir teaches the history of Indigenous people in the USA.

BOOKS FOR GRADES K-12

GRADES 7 - 12

(2021) Firekeeper’s Daughter by Angeline Boulley

The novel's main character is a young woman with a French mother and an Ojibwe father, who often feels torn between cultures.

(2021) The 1619 Project: Born on the Water by Nikole Hannah-Jones and Renée Watson

Illustrated by Nikkolas Smith

Tells the story and consequences of American slavery in verse.

(2020) Stamped: Racism, Antiracism, and You by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi

Shorter and appropriate for middle and high schoolers.

(2020) All Boys Aren’t Blue by George M. Johnson

Series of personal essays about the author’s life growing up as a gay, black man.

(2020) Dictionary for a Better World: Poems, Quotes, and Anecdotes from A to Z by Irene Latham and Charles Waters Illustrated by Mehrdokt Amini

Explained in title.

(2020) Woke: A Young Poet’s Call to Justice by Mahogany L. Browne with Elizabeth Acevedo and Olivia Gatewood Illustrated by Theodore Taylor III

Poetry about fighting for racial justice through joy and passion.

(2020) Be Amazing: A History of Pride by Desmond Is Amazing Illustrated by Dylan Glynn

The history of Pride, with bold illustrations, focusing on the importance of embracing one’s own uniqueness and tuning out the haters.

(2020) Dear Justyce (Dear Martin #2) by Nic Stone

Continues the story of Justyce from Dear Martin in a series of flashbacks and letters.

(2020) Punching the Air by Ibi Zoboi and Yusef Salaam

A novel in verse about a boy who is wrongfully incarcerated.

(2019) Gender Queer: A Memoir by Maia Kobab

The author tells the story of life as a nonbinary person in graphic novel form.

(2019) An Indigenous Peoples' History of the United States for Young People original book by Roxanne Dunbar-Ortiz adapted by Debbie Rees and Jean Mendoza

Shorter and appropriate for middle and high schoolers

(2017) Sea Prayer by Khalad Hosseini Illustrated by Dan Williams

Written as a poetic letter, from father to son, this is a story of the journey of refugees.

(2017) Dear Martin (Dear Martin #1) by Nic Stone

A story of the realities of a Black teen living in America.

(2015) All American Boys by Jason Reynolds and Brendan Kiely

From the perspective of two teenage boys, one Black and one White, a story is told with the realization that racism and prejudice are still alive and well.

(2015) Beyond Magenta: Transgender and Nonbinary Teens Speak Out by Susan Kuklin

The author interviewed six transgender for gender-neutral young adults and lets

them tell their story.

(2011) Heart and Soul: The Story of America and African Americans written and illustrated by Kadir Nelson

The title explains it well

GRADES 4 - 6

(2023) An American Story by Kwame Alexander illustrated by Dare Coulter

Tells the story, poetically and honestly, about American slavery

(2023) Step by Step!: How the Lincoln School Marchers Blazed a Trail to Justice

by Debbie Rigaud and Carlotta Penn illustrated by Nysha Pierce

Tells the story of a group of Black mothers and children and their two-year march to integrate an Ohio elementary school.

(2022) Say Their Names by Caroline Brewer illustrated by Adrian Brandon

A young Black girl leads a #BlackLivesMatter protest march.

(2021) Stamped (For Kids): Racism, Antiracism, and You by Jason Reynolds and Ibram X. Kendi.

Shorter, more kid friendly version of Stamped from the Beginning.

(2021) Unspeakable: The Tulsa Race Massacre by Carole Boston Weatherford illustrated by Floyd Cooper

Traces the history of this African-American ‘Wall Street District’ and its destruction by White supremacists.

(2016). I Dissent: Ruth Bader Ginsburg Makes Her Mark by Debbie Levy illustrated by Elizabeth Baddeley

The life and work of RBG told in picture book form.

(2008) Silent Music: A Story of Baghdad written and illustrated by James Rumford

Ancient and recent history of Baghdad from the perspective of a young boy.

(2005) Show Way by Jacqueline Woodson illustrated by Hudson Talbott

Traces the history of the ‘show way’ quilt from slavery through freedom.

(2005) My Name is Bilal by Asma Mobin-Uddin illustrated by Barbara Kiwak

Muslim-American student experiencing religious prejudice.

(2005). Amelia to Zora: Twenty-Six Women Who Changed the World by Cynthia Chin-Lee Ilustrated by Megan Halsey and Sean Addy

An alphabet book that teaches about the extraordinary lives of 26 women.

(1978). The Other Way to Listen by Byrd Baylor and Peter Parnall

Helps children learn about indigenous cultures.

GRADES PRE-K - 3

(2023) These Olive Trees: A Palestinian Family’s Story written and illustrated by Aya Ghanameh

A story of a young girl and her family in Nablus, Palestine, 1967

(2020). Antiracist Baby by Ibram X. Kendi illustrated by Ashley Lukashvsky

Teaches young children how to be an antiracist.

(2016). When We Were Alone by David A. Robertson and Julie Flett

A young, indigenous girl learns about her grandmother’s experience in a

residential school.

(2013). A is for Activist by Innosanto Nagara (board book)

An ABC book that teaches children about being an activist.

#how to help #book recommendations

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mcrdvcks · 2 months ago

Text

what are hands for?

chapter summary: After an offhand comment from your father shakes your confidence, you find yourself spiraling into self-doubt.

word count: 2.4k+

pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader

notes: i'm not even gonna lie, this is extremely self-indulgent. i've barely been home for a week and my dad's already called me fat once and it definitely won't be the last time

anyways, i basically wrote this for myself but i thought i'd share it because i know for some people, being home for the holidays is rough! and the only thing i need is for logan to tell me he loves me and everything would be perfect

warnings/tags: insecure!reader, reader has a brother, skipping meals, implied that reader has received rude comments from family before, reader describes herself as 5'7" and over 200 lbs one time (like i said, self-indulgent), curvy!reader, angst, fluff

You have always had mixed feelings about going to your parents’ house for the holidays, or even during your breaks during college. You loved home, it was where you grew up so naturally you were supposed to love it.

But you also hated it. Hated the comments, the looks, the yelling—all of it.

And somehow here you were, standing in your parent’s quaint house, your younger brother and his girlfriend already in the dining room helping your mom with dinner while your dad greeted you and Logan.

"Hey, kiddo," your dad said, pulling you into a quick, half-hearted hug before turning to Logan with a small smile. "Logan. Good to see you again."

Logan gave a polite nod. "Good to see you too, sir."

Your dad’s gaze flicked between the two of you for a moment before gesturing toward the dining room. "Everyone’s in there. Why don’t you join them? Dinner’s almost ready."

Logan looked at you briefly, a silent check-in, before heading off. "I’ll go see if they need help," he murmured, squeezing your hand lightly as he passed.

The air shifted the second Logan stepped out of earshot. Your dad turned back to you, giving you a once-over that was a little too long for comfort.

"You’ve put on a little weight, haven’t you?" he asked, his tone casual, as if he hadn’t just landed a verbal punch to your gut. "Must be all that mansion food."

Your chest tightened, heat creeping up your neck. You opened your mouth to respond—what, you weren’t sure—but he didn’t wait for an answer. He just patted your shoulder like it was nothing, muttered something about checking on the turkey, and walked off, leaving you standing there alone.

In the back of your mind, you knew you should’ve put on a different shirt, this one was just a tad bit too tight. But it was one of Logan’s favorite’s, so you didn’t pay too much attention to it.

You pulled on your blouse a few times, trying to get it to not stick to your stomach before walking into the dining room like you always did when you were younger, with a fake smile.

---

You huffed, yanking the seventh shirt over your head and tossing it onto the growing pile on the bed. Nothing looked right—nothing felt right. Every shirt clung too much, hung awkwardly, or just didn’t sit right. And with each outfit failure, the voice in your head grew louder, echoing your dad’s casual remark.

You tugged at the hem of your tank top, staring at your reflection in the mirror with narrowed eyes. “Stupid,” you muttered, turning to the side to inspect your profile. “It’s just a shirt. It’s fine.” But it didn’t feel fine.

After another long minute, you grabbed a loose hoodie from the closet and pulled it on, letting it drown you. It wasn’t what you’d planned to wear, but at least it hid everything you didn’t want to see.

You made your way downstairs to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before your class. On the counter were a box of donuts, and without thinking you grabbed the two you normally did in a napkin and made your way out.

But not before pausing at the doorway, a bite already taken out of one donut as you looked down at the food in your hand. You took another bite and threw both away, making your way to your classroom before the kids got there.

You got to the classroom a good twenty minutes early, dropping your bag onto the desk with a sigh. The hoodie you’d thrown on still felt too heavy, too obvious, but you didn’t have the energy to deal with it right now. The two bites of the donut you’d managed to eat sat like a stone in your stomach.

You busied yourself setting up for the day, pulling worksheets out of your bag and lining them up on the desk. It wasn’t much, but focusing on something, anything, kept your mind from wandering too far down the spiral. The kids would be filing in soon, their chatter filling the space, and that would make it easier. It always did.

But for now, the silence was suffocating.

There was a soft knock on the doorframe, and you looked up, expecting one of the students. Instead, it was Ororo. She leaned casually against the frame, a warm, curious smile on her face.

“Morning, Y/N,” she greeted, stepping into the room. “You’re here early. Everything okay?”

You forced a smile, nodding as you shuffled a few papers around unnecessarily. “Yeah, just… wanted to get a head start. You know how Mondays are.”

Ororo tilted her head, clearly unconvinced but kind enough not to push. “If you say so,” she said, her tone light but probing. Her gaze swept over you, lingering for just a second on the oversized hoodie before she caught herself. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

“Will do. Thanks, ‘Ro.” You gave her another tight-lipped smile, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt.

She hesitated for a beat before nodding and stepping back into the hallway. As soon as she was gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

The classroom slowly came to life as the students trickled in, their energy filling the room and pushing your thoughts to the background. By the time the lesson was underway, you were almost able to pretend nothing was wrong. Almost.

It wasn’t until later that day, during lunch, that it all came rushing back. The teachers’ lounge was unusually crowded, laughter and conversations bouncing off the walls. You slipped in quietly, grabbing a bottle of water and a granola bar from the counter before finding a corner to sit in.

From across the room, Logan caught your eye. He was leaning back in one of the chairs, arms crossed, but the second he saw you, his expression softened. He gave you a small nod—his way of checking in. You nodded back, offering a faint smile.

You didn’t miss the way his brow furrowed slightly, though, or the way his gaze lingered for just a moment too long before he turned back to his conversation with Scott. It wasn’t like Logan to hover or push, but you knew he noticed things. And he never let them go.

---

After classes you went into the kitchen to put your mug in the sink from hours ago. Out of habit, you grabbed a few cookies Ororo had made yesterday before stopping yourself.

You stared at the cookies in your hand, your frown deepening as your dad’s words replayed in your mind like a broken record. Your stomach churned, and for a moment, you felt like throwing the cookies straight into the trash.

“What’d those cookies ever do to you, darlin’?” Logan’s voice startled you from your thoughts. You turned to see him leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. His gaze wasn’t accusing, just… observant.

You hesitated, gripping the cookies tighter. “Nothing,” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant. “Just… wasn’t really hungry.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, pushing off the doorframe to step into the kitchen. “Didn’t seem like you were thinkin’ about that a second ago,” he said, his tone teasing but gentle. “Something on your mind?”

You shook your head quickly, putting the cookies back on the plate. “Nope. Just tired. Long day.”

He didn’t look convinced. Logan had a way of reading you like an open book, and you hated it sometimes. Hated how hard it was to hide from him, even when you wanted to.

“Darlin’…” His voice was softer now, his hand reaching out to brush yours. “What’s goin’ on?”

You sighed, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms. “It’s nothing, Logan. Seriously.”

He stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your eyes. “Y/N, you know I don’t buy that. You’ve been off since we got back from your folks’ place.” His voice was low, steady. “Talk to me.”

You hesitated, chewing the inside of your cheek. The last thing you wanted was to unload all this on him. But the look in his eyes—genuine, steady, patient—made it impossible to deflect.

“It’s just… something my dad said,” you admitted finally, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan’s jaw tightened, his expression hardening. “What’d he say?”

“It’s not a big deal—”

“Y/N.” His tone was firm, but not unkind. “What’d he say?”

You exhaled sharply, avoiding his gaze. “He… made a comment about my weight,” you mumbled, feeling your face heat up. “Said I’ve been eating too much mansion food.”

Logan’s expression darkened, his brows knitting together. “He said that?” His voice was low, dangerous. You nodded, still not looking at him. “That’s bullshit,” he muttered, his hands clenching into fists at his sides.

“It’s not—he didn’t mean it like that,” you tried to defend weakly, though you weren’t sure why. “It’s just how he is. And, it’s not like he’s wrong either, I could lose some weight. I’m 5’7” and over 200 pounds, and sometimes my old pants don’t even go over my thighs or hips. And—”

Logan held up a hand, cutting you off gently but firmly. “Alright, stop. Just stop.” His voice was low, steady, but there was a protective edge to it. “First off, I don’t give a damn what your old pants fit like. And second, your dad? He’s got no right to talk to you like that. None.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but Logan stepped closer, tilting his head to meet your gaze. “Nope. Not hearin’ it, Y/N. You’re sittin’ here pickin’ yourself apart ‘cause of some stupid thing he said, and that’s not fair. Not to you.”

“But he’s not wrong,” you muttered, looking away. “I mean, look at me. I’m—”

“Perfect,” Logan interrupted, his voice firm. “You’re perfect. And I don’t wanna hear you say otherwise.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “You’re just saying that.”

“Do I look like the kind of guy who just says things?” Logan shot back, raising an eyebrow. “Princess, I’m the last person to sugarcoat anything.”

You hesitated, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. Logan sighed, stepping closer and resting his hands lightly on your hips. “Y/N, you’re strong. You’re smart. And yeah, you’ve got curves—and I happen to like ‘em. A lot.”

Your face heated at his words, but Logan wasn’t done. He gave your hips a gentle squeeze, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “You think I’d be standin’ here, chasin’ after you, if I didn’t think you were incredible? Come on now.”

“I’m not fishing for compliments, Logan,” you said quietly, still not quite meeting his eyes.

“I know you’re not,” he replied. “But I’m givin’ ‘em anyway, ‘cause you need to hear it. And because it’s the damn truth.”

You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh, despite yourself. Logan grinned, clearly pleased to have gotten a reaction out of you. “There’s that smile,” he said softly, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Missed that.”

The knot in your chest loosened just a bit, and you let out a shaky sigh. “Thanks, Logan,” you murmured. “I just… I don’t feel like myself sometimes, you know?”

“I get it,” Logan said, his voice softer now. “We all got our crap to deal with. But you don’t gotta deal with it alone. Not when I’m here.”

You gave him a small nod, the corners of your mouth twitching upward. Logan’s smirk returned, and his hands slid from your hips to the curve of your thighs, his fingers grazing lightly. “Besides,” he said, his tone turning teasing, “you know what these thighs are for, right?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “What?”

He grinned, his hands squeezing gently before lifting you up. “For my hands. Nothin’ else they need to do, far as I’m concerned.”

You yelped in surprise, grabbing onto his shoulders. “Logan! Put me down!”

“Nope,” he said, a smug grin plastered on his face. “Not until you stop talkin’ nonsense about yourself.”

You glared at him, though the heat rushing to your cheeks betrayed your indignation. “I’m serious, Logan. I’m not exactly lightweight—”

“Good thing I’m not exactly weak,” he interrupted smoothly, his grin widening. “You think a couple extra pounds are gonna make me break a sweat? Sweetheart, I’ve fought Sentinels and lived to tell the tale. Trust me, I got this.”

You groaned, your hands tightening on his shoulders as he adjusted his grip, holding you securely. “This is ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is you thinkin’ you’re anything less than perfect,” Logan countered, his tone softening just a bit. “Now, you gonna stop beatin’ yourself up, or am I gonna have to carry you around all day until you do?”

“Logan, we’re in the kitchen,” you hissed, glancing toward the doorway. “What if someone walks in?”

“Let ‘em,” he said with a shrug. “Not like they don’t already know you’re my girl.” He leaned in closer, his nose brushing against yours. “Besides, anyone’s got a problem with me lovin’ on you? They can take it up with me.”

You huffed, but your lips twitched into a reluctant smile. “You’re impossible.”

“Yeah, but you like me anyway,” he teased, setting you down gently but keeping his hands on your hips. “Now, what do you say we grab those cookies and actually enjoy ‘em? ‘Ro made ‘em for us, after all.”

Your gaze flicked to the plate of cookies, and for a moment, doubt crept back in. But Logan’s steady hands on your hips and the unwavering warmth in his eyes grounded you. “Okay,” you said softly. “Let’s eat the cookies.”

“That’s my girl,” Logan said, pressing a kiss to your forehead before reaching for the plate. He handed you one, grabbing one for himself, and took a big bite, chewing with exaggerated enthusiasm. “Damn, these are good. Think she’d notice if we finished the whole plate?”

You laughed, the sound lighter than it had felt all day. “Pretty sure she’d kill us.”

“Worth it,” he said with a smirk, taking another bite.

You rolled your eyes but bit into your cookie, letting the sweetness melt on your tongue. For the first time in what felt like days, the weight on your chest eased just a little.

And when Logan leaned in to steal a crumb from the corner of your mouth, you couldn’t even find it in yourself to protest.

#logan howlett x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x reader #wolverine x you #james howlett x reader #james howlett x you #logan howlett #logan howlett fanfiction #logan howlett x fem!reader #logan howlett fic

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cressidagrey · 4 months ago

Text

It's a Love Story - Chapter 11 (The End)

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

I could write more, but quite frankly, I think I would kinda drag it out and the first major arc is tied up with a neat little bow! There are definitely be threads left dangling for me to pick up whenever I want to write more about Sky and Azriel, but I think around 50k is a good place to stop for now ❤️

Even the Spymaster of the Night Court paid taxes.

That was the only reason why Rhysand even found out where exactly Azriel‘s home even was.

Azriel’s home was in the outskirts of Velaris, near the mountains. A little lake cabin. Rhys hadn’t even known that Azriel owned it but apparently he did.

Rhys shouldn’t go there. He knew that.

Rhys should be giving his brother space. That was probably the least he owed him. But he couldn't stop himself. He needed to know Azriel was alright. That he was happy.

Rhys needed to apologise. He needed to make amends…

And Azriel was ignoring him. Mental shields as shored up as they ever had been, shoving back at Rhys at every opportunity…

He had never seen Azriel's mental shields like this before, and it concerned him. He knew Azriel was angry at him, had ever right to be angry, but Rhys hadn't expected his brother to shut him out so completely.

Reports were still arriving on his desk punctually as always. But Azriel seemed utterly uninterested in actually talking to Rhys.

It was a small comfort, knowing that Azriel was still working, but Rhysand couldn’t shake off the feeling of guilt that had settled deep in his gut. He knew that he had hurt Azriel deeply, and he couldn’t blame his brother for shutting him out.

Rhys wished he could turn back time and fix things, but he had messed up terribly. He knew he had to give Azriel space, but the silence between them was deafening . It was a constant reminder of just how much damage he had caused.

As the days went on, Rhysand found himself consumed by thoughts of what he could have done…should have done… He tried reaching out to Azriel mentally, only to be rebuffed each time.

Cassian showed up alone for debriefings and if Rhys showed up at the House of Wind for Valkyrie Training, Azriel was nowhere to be seen.

So finally…Rhys had enough. So he showed up at that house.

It was a nice house too, a secluded cabin at a mountain lake. Rhys knew that he wasn’t welcome, not after everything that had passed between them, but he had to see Azriel.

Rhys raised a hand, knocking gently on the door. He could hear the faint sound of movement inside. Rhysand sighed. He should leave. He knew he should leave. But he couldn't bring himself to do it.

And then suddenly, to his surprise…the door opened.

“…C…Can I….can I h…help you?“

She was brown haired and short… with deep blue eyes and freckles smattering over her nose.

Rhysand looked at the woman in front of him, taken aback by her appearance. He didn't know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn't a small, curvy, freckled brunette.

"I, uh..." Rhysand stammered, his mind blanking. "I was looking for Azriel." he finally brought out.

The small female studied him carefully, her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Az…Azriel's n…not h…here," she stuttered.

Rhysand's heart sank, but he tried not to let it show. "Do you know where he is?" he asked, desperate for any information.

The female hesitated, biting her lip slightly. She seemed to be contemplating her answer, her brow furrowing in thought. After a moment, she finally looked back up at him, her expression unreadable. "He…He's...o…out f…for t…the d…day," she said finally, not giving him anymore than that.

Rhysand tried to keep the frustration out of his voice, but it was difficult. He was so close to his brother, and yet so far away. "Do you know when he'll be back?" he asked sharply.

She nearly flinched away from him at that tone of voice.

He opened his mouth to apologise, but he didn't even get to that. Because some thing with wickedly sharp claws, launched itself at his head with a hissing sound.

Rhysand yelped as the mysterious creature swiped at his face, growling all the while.

"HECTOR NO!" The female shrieked.

Rhysand stumbled backwards, trying to dodge the sharp claws.

Just at that moment, he felt more than he heard his brother's arrival.

Azriel materialized between them with a loud flapping of wings, his siphons blazing. He stood protectively in front of the small female, his expression murderous.

"Hector to me," he snapped. The thing, a cat ...an incredible ugly , murderous looking cat let off Rhys with another growl and slunk back to Azriel's side, heeling like a dog. The woman quickly scooped him up in her arms.

Cassian's laughter washed over him, at that moment, as Rhys was still laying on the ground, bested by a cat .

"Taking down by a cat now, Rhysie?" Cassian asked him with a snort, offering him his hand to gain his feet.

Rhys already knew that he was never going to live this down.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" Azriel hissed, his voice filled with anger. His wings were spread wide, and Rhysand could see the barely contained ferocity beneath his brother's cold facade.

Rhysand winced at Azriel's harsh tone. He knew he had messed up, and he didn't blame his brother for being angry with him. "I just wanted to see you," he said, feeling small under Azriel's penetrating glare.

Azriel's expression didn't soften at his words. "You had no right," he said sharply. "You can't just show up here unannounced, Rhysand. This is my home, and you're not welcome here. You terrified Sky!"

Sky. Sky. That was the name of his brother's mate...of the pretty brunette that was standing behind him, fussing over her murderous cat.

Rhysand glanced over at Sky guiltily. "I...I'm sorry," he said to her. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Sky hesitated, before nodding stiffly. Her face remained guarded, her arms still wrapped protectively around the mangy cat. Rhysand couldn't help but notice how small she looked compared to Azriel's imposing form…and the absolute massive cat.

"I am sorry," he turned to his brother, swallowing. The apology wasn't enough. he knew that. And it wasn't going to fix the fact that Azriel didn't trust him anymore or... *Az. Please.*

"How did you find this house?" Azriel demanded.

"I checked the tax reports," Rhys admitted with a grimace.

Azriel's expression darkened even further, and Rhys braced himself for a reprimand. Instead, his brother let out a harsh, bitter chuckle. "Of course you did," he said flatly. "Just can't stay out of my business, can you?"

Rhysand felt a pang in his chest at the hostility in Azriel's voice. He knew he deserved every ounce of resentment his brother felt, but it still hurt deep to hear it out loud. "I...I was worried about you," he said lamely.”I just needed to see you." he added. "To apologise."

"You don't even realise the lines you keep crossing, do you?" Cassian asked him flatly. "Ever thought about the fact that maybe you should have waited until Azriel was ready to hear you out?

Rhysand winced. Cassian's words struck a nerve, and he knew his friend was right. He had been rash and insensitive in coming here unannounced. "I...I wasn't thinking," he admitted softly.

Cassian shook his head, his expression still stern. "That's the problem, Rhys," he said bluntly. "You never seem to think these days. It's like you're so caught up in your own head that you don't consider how your actions affect those around you."

Rhysand's gaze dropped, shame washing over him. Cassian's words pierced straight through him, and he struggled to find a response. He knew he had been making mistakes, but hearing them laid out so bluntly still stung.

"What do you want?" Azriel asked him flatly. "Why did you come here?"

"I wanted to apologise," Rhys said weakly. "I...fucked up. I know that. I want to...fix things."

Azriel's face remained impassive, his eyes hard. "You can't just fix things with an apology, Rhys," He said curtly. "You crossed more than one line, and you shattered my trust. Do you really think saying sorry is enough?"

"Az," his mate said softly, her voice quiet. "H..He's blee..bleeding all over our front lawn after my cat at..attacked him. At least let him sit down and give him a healing salve…"

Azriel turned to look at his mate, his anger softening ever so slightly at the concern in her voice. He let out a heavy sigh, before nodding stiffly. "Fine," he said gruffly. "But no more than that."

Rhysand nodded gratefully, relieved that Azriel was willing to let him in, even if only slightly. "Thank you," he said quietly. "I...I really am sorry."

Azriel didn't respond, turning away from him and herded Sky and the murder cat into the house. Rhysand watched him go, feeling a pang of sadness. It was clear that his brother's anger was far from abated, and he knew it would take a lot more than just an apology to mend their fractured relationship.

"Come on," Cassian prodded him up.

The first thing that Rhys realised about the house Azriel shared with his mate was that it was absolutely stuffed full with books. The second was, that Azriel clearly doted on the Murder Cat that got a crystal dish with tuna on it put on the floor before Azriel even went in the direction of the healing salve, which he slapped down on the table in front of Rhysand. .

"I…I am so…sorry," Sky apologised to Rhys, bright blue eyes apologetic. "H…Hector has nev…never done anything like that before, I swear."

Yeah, somehow he doubted that. But he also doubted that it was going to help his relationship with Azriel if he was going to annoy his mate about her beastly cat. The thing had a worse personality than Amren .

"Don't worry about it," he said, with what he hoped he was a gracious smile. "I think your cat and I just got off on the wrong foot." He looked over at the cat, who was now happily devouring the tuna as if it hadn't just tried to claw his face off.

"Good Boy, Hector," Azriel said warmly.

Rhysand could just stare.

Azriel, the feared Spymaster of the Night Court, was cooing at a mangy cat like a proud parent. He never would have believed it if he hadn't seen it with his own eyes.

"Who knew the Spymaster had a soft spot for cats," Rhysand remarked with a faint smile. Azriel shot him a warning glare, but the sternness was lost at the tender way he was petting the cat. "I am really sorry," Rhys apologised again.

"You said so. Numerous times," Azriel shot back.

Rhysand sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He knew Azriel was still angry with him, but it was hard not to feel the guilt weighing down on him. "I know," he said softly. "But I want you to know that I mean it. I am sorry, Azriel. For everything."

Azriel's expression remained impassive, but Rhysand could see the flicker of sadness in his eyes. He knew his brother was struggling to forgive him, but he hoped that with time, Azriel would be able to find it in his heart to do so.

"I just want to make things right," Rhysand said earnestly. "I miss you, Az. I miss my brother."

"You'll need to decide one of those days," Azriel said sharply. "Am I your soldier or am I your brother?"

Rhysand flinched at the words, feeling the weight of the accusation hit him hard.

He had always tried to balance his role as High Lord with his relationship with his brothers, but he knew that…that he hadn’t been fair to Azriel for a long time. "You're right," he conceded quietly. "I have been treating you like my soldier instead of my brother, and that's not fair to you."

"You have been treating him absolutely deplorably," Cassian cut him off.

Rhysand hung his head, feeling the weight of his mistakes settling heavy on his shoulders. "I know," he said quietly. "I've been so caught up in my own problems and responsibilities as High Lord that I lost sight of what really matters. And I've hurt Azriel because of it."

"And you stuck your nose in things that are none of your business," Cassian continued. "I get it that you are tired of fighting, Rhys, we all are, but you can't keep conflict out of our family by ordering Azriel to behave in the way you would like him to."

Rhysand winced, knowing Cassian was right. He had been trying to control things, to make sure everyone was safe and happy, but in the process, he had driven a wedge between himself and his brothers. "I...I know," he admitted reluctantly. "I was…I was stupid. I am tired of war. Of fighting. And I was just trying to protect him, but I went about it all wrong."

" Protect me?" Azriel asked him, his voice dripping with disdain. " Protect me from what ?"

Rhysand looked away, feeling the shame rise within him. He knew he had overstepped, and he knew that Azriel was angry with him. "The consequences that would have arisen," he said delicately. He didn't know what Azriel had told his mate...didn't know how much she knew, but she was watching him with an expression on his face, he couldn't quite place.

"Well, I am an adult, Rhysand," Azriel snapped. "I am perfectly capable of protecting myself."

Rhys knew that. He knew Azriel was more than capable of taking care of himself. But he still felt the need to protect him, to shield him from harm.

"I...I know that," Rhysand said quietly. "I just didn't want to see you get hurt." He glanced over at Azriel's mate, who was still watching him warily. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being evaluated, judged for his mistakes.

Azriel let out a dry chuckle. "Well, it's a little late for that, don't you think?" he said bitterly. "You've seen to that already." Rhysand winced at the accusation, knowing that he deserved every ounce of Azriel's anger.

"I know," he said again, his voice barely above a whisper. "And I am sorry for that. I see now that it was the wrong way to go about it." He looked into his brother's dark eyes, pleading for understanding.

Azriel met his gaze, his expression softening ever so slightly. "Protecting me by making decisions for me is not protecting me, Rhysand," he said quietly. "It's...it's suffocating. It's demeaning."

Rhysand nodded, knowing that Azriel was right. He had been trying to control everything, trying to make sure that nothing went wrong, and he had lost sight of what was truly important. "I understand," he said quietly. "And I am sorry for making you feel that way. It was wrong of me."

Azriel studied him for a moment, before finally sighing. "Just...stop it," he said simply. "No more interfering in my personal life, no more giving me orders like I am one of your soldiers."

Rhysand let out a shaky breath, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "I promise," he said earnestly. "I won't do it again, Az. I...I'll respect your boundaries, and I'll never overstep again."

Azriel snorted. “I’ll believe that when I see it,” he said gruffly. "And if you do...if you try to control me like that again, I swear Rhysand...it won't end well."

"You'll ha…have He…Hecctor to contend with," Sky said, her voice even.

Rhysand looked over at Hector, who had finished his tuna and was now licking his chops. Rhys swallowed. "He does seem to be a force to be reckoned with," he said carefully.

Sky gave him a small, tight-lipped smile. "You could say t…that," she said, her tone neutral. Azriel snorted a laugh, shaking his head as he watched his mate. It was the first genuinely carefree sound Rhysand had heard from his brother…in a long time.

Despite the earlier tension, Rhysand found himself smiling too. There was something about the way Azriel looked at his mate, the way he looked...happy, that made Rhysand feel like maybe everything would be alright.

Hector chose that moment to let out a loud meow, his voice sounding like a rusty hinge in the otherwise quiet room. Azriel looked down at the cat, rolling his eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll get you your second helping, spoiled brat," he said, a hint of fondness in his voice.

Rhysand chuckled, feeling the tension that had been weighing him down lift just a little. Things between him and Azriel weren't repaired yet, they had a long way to go, but for the first time in a long while, he felt hopeful.

“They do say the pen is mi…mightier than a sword,” Sky said suddenly. “You treat Azriel like that again and you’ll see just how mighty my pen is.”

Rhysand's eyebrows shot up in surprise at Sky's unexpected threat. It was clear that she wasn't messing around, and Rhys couldn't help but admire her boldness. He glanced over at Azriel, who was trying to suppress a smile.

"I'll keep that in mind," Rhysand said, trying to hide his amusement. "Though I have to say, I can’t imagine a pen being as terrifying as Hector."

Cassian snorted. “Oh you have no idea,” he muttered

Rhysand's eyes widened in curiosity at Cassian's comment. What on earth did that mean? But before he could inquire further, Azriel's voice broke through.

"Don't worry about it," he said, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "Let's just say that you don't want to get on Sky's bad side, especially when she has her writing instruments within reach."

"Duly noted," Rhysand said, nodding seriously. He had a feeling that Azriel's mate was not someone to be trifled with, regardless of how harmless she looked, and he had no intention of finding out first-hand just how mighty her pen truly was.

Hector, having finished his second helping of tuna, let out a satisfied meow before padding over to Sky and rubbing against her leg. She reached down and scratched him behind the ears, smiling as he purred contentedly.

Rhysand watched the scene. He had never seen Azriel so relaxed, so happy, and it made him realize just how badly he had missed his brother. It was a reminder that family was more important than anything, and that he needed to cherish the people he cared about.

“Seems like you aren’t Sky’s favourite,” Cassian drawled.

Azriel snorted. “Nah, I come a distant third behind Hector and the shadows.”

Rhys watched with a swallow as these shadows that he had seen torturing people came over to Sky and twined around her hands. Azriel's words were said in jest, but Rhysand could hear the fondness in his voice. It was clear that Azriel adored his mate, and that the shadows had taken a liking to her as well. Rhysand tried not to let the slight sting of jealousy show on his face.

As he watched, the shadows danced around Sky's fingers, like they were alive and had a mind of their own. Rhys had seen the shadows in action, had seen how Azriel used them to fight and spy, but he had never seen them act this way before. There was a tenderness in the way they twined around Sky that was almost...beautiful.

Rhys turned to Azriel, who was watching his mate with a soft expression on his face. "They seem to like her," he commented, keeping his voice neutral.

"That's an understatement," Azriel said drily. "They're obsessed with her. They won't leave her alone."

Rhysand could see that clearly, but what surprised him more was how comfortable Sky seemed with them. She wasn't scared or even bothered by their presence...

It did make sense he supposed. The shadows were Azriel's weapon, his most trusted companions...that they would like his mate.

Rhysand watched as Sky looked up from where the shadows were wrapping around her fingers, a faint smile on her face. She seemed completely at ease with the strange entities, as if they were just another part of Azriel that she had accepted and embraced.

And it was also a sharp reminder of how much trust Rhys had destroyed through his actions. It was very clear who Azriel preferred, who he trusted more. Who he gravitated towards. Who even his shadows doted on, these strange, creatures that Rhys was quite sure would stop at nothing to keep their master safe.

The realization stung, but Rhys knew he had no one to blame but himself. He had caused this rift between them, he had pushed Azriel away, and now he was paying the price for it. But he was determined to make it right, no matter how long it took.

As he watched Azriel gently brush away a stray strand of hair from Sky's face, Rhys made a silent vow. He would do whatever it took to repair their broken bond, to regain Azriel's trust and respect. No matter how hard it was, no matter how long it took, he would make things right.

***

"You want to talk about it?" Sky asked him quietly, after Cassian ad Rhys had gone.

She was fine now. Content. No more pulling at the mating bond so harshly and pushing all her fear at him. It had shaved at least a century of his life, to feel that from her when Casisan and him had been sparring and he knew that she was supposed to be safe at home.

He had expected near everything…but he hadn’t expected to arrive to the view of Hector scratching Rhys’s face with all his might.

Azriel took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day's events bearing down on him. He wasn't sure if he was ready to put his tangled emotions into words yet, but he also knew that he couldn't keep it all bottled up inside.

"Rhys gave me some orders that I didn't agree with," he said drily. "Stuck his nose in things that he had no business to interfere with. He treated me...treated me like my feelings didn't matter. That I didn't matter....It took a really bad fight on Solstice for this apology to occur," he said with a grimace.

"You don't think he means it?" Sky asked him curiously, turning to look at him.

"No, he does mean it," Azriel said with a sigh. He did believe that. “He wants to fix things. to rebuild trust...And I do want that too. Regardless of how much of an asshole he can be on occasion he is still my brother ."

Sky was quiet for a long moment, watching him intently. Azriel felt the weight of her gaze, knowing that she was analyzing the situation, trying to understand what he was feeling. Finally, she spoke.

"You're worried that he'll disappoint you again," she said softly. "That he'll make promises that he can't keep. That he'll go back on his word and hurt you worse than before."

Azriel's throat felt tight. The words hit him hard, because Sky had put a voice to his deepest fears. "Yes," he admitted. "That'sexactly what I'm afraid of. I want to believe him, I do."

But it was hard to trust Rhys right ow. Especially with Sky. Trusting Rhys with the most important, the most precious part of his life...

"I can loan you Hector whenever he pisses you off again," Sky offered him seriously, and Azriel couldn't help but laugh.

"Thanks," he said with a small smile. "I might just take you up on that." He pulled her closer, burying his face in her hair. The scent of caramel and hazelnuts enveloped him, calming his racing thoughts and easing the tension in his shoulders.

"I love you, he whispered into her skin and she hummed. "Regardless of what happens, you have me," Sky promised him. "I'll be behind you, every step of the way. regardless of whatever you decide."

Those words were like a balm to Azriel's soul. The fear and doubt that had been plaguing him since Rhysand's unexpected visit receded, replaced by a sense of safety and certainty. He held onto Sky tightly.

"I love you too," she murmured, the words barely audible even in the still apartment.

They stayed like that for a long moment, simply holding onto each other.

*I don't think I ever thanked you.* he told the shadows softly as he held his mate in his arms.

The shadows fluttered around him, wrapping around his arms and shoulders like a comforting embrace. They didn't say anything, but Azriel could feel their response. They had been with him through thick and thin, protecting him, guiding him, and never once asking for a word of thanks. And yet, he knew that they understood his gratitude, that they could feel it…

*Thank you for finding her.*

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #it’s a love story

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y3sterdaysproblem · 4 months ago

Text

smoke and mirrors - chris sturniolo

chapter three

summary: your best friend Matt backs out of plans you had made together, so you replace him with his brother. the only problem is the two of you can’t stand each other.

{enemies to lovers, fake dating}

includes : explicit language, fluff, smut(penetration, oral, fingering, etc.), angst if you squint, lots of bickering, slow burn

tw: slight body issues in this chapter.

wc: 3.2k

The wedding was in a week and you found yourself out shopping with the triplets trying to find Chris a tie that would match your dress, which was just a simple, deep red, slim fitting, sleeveless dress. It was sexy and flattering, but nowhere near enough to draw attention from the bride or bridal party.

You had been shopping for a while, mostly goofing off, but now you guys had made it to Men’s Warehouse and were actually looking for what you needed. You carried around a swatch of your dress color so you could find something as close as possible, holding it up to every dark red tie you found, but nothing was to your liking just yet.

“How about this one?” Chris asks, holding another one up, and you walk over and hold up your swatch, shaking your head. “Too bright,” you say, to which he groans.

“We’ve looked at like twenty different ties, one of these has to match,” he complains, putting the tie back.

“The perfect match is out there, I know it is. We just have to keep looking,” you tell him, still perusing the array of options throughout the store.

Matt and Nick followed behind you guys, chit chatting with each other while you and Chris bickered over whether or not the reds matched, which they obviously didn’t.

“Haven’t you ever seen those pictures on the internet?” You ask Chris.

He raises an eyebrow, looking down at you. “Very descriptive, I definitely have,” he replies sarcastically.

You roll your eyes. “You know, the ones where girls ask their boyfriend if they can tell the difference between two really similar nail polishes? Most of them can’t tell the difference, but women can! So when you say that these ties are ‘close enough’, they’re just not. It has to be perfect, these pictures are going to be around forever, and as much as I wish you weren’t in the pictures, I at least want to make sure we look good.”

“Stop comparing me to a boyfriend, dude, it’s getting weird,” Chris shudders at the thought and you just shake your head, knowing that he wasn’t listening to a damn thing you were saying and is just trying to rush through this store. “How about this one?”

Chris holds up a tie for you to look at, and you hold your swatch up to it, instantly beaming up at him. “It’s perfect!” You tell him, bouncing on your toes in excitement. “See? Don’t you see how well that matches?”

He looks down at the two colors pressed together and reluctantly nods. “Yeah, that looks pretty good,” he agrees.

“Great!” You smile, grabbing the tie from his hands. “Now we buy this and we’re all done.”

Chris lets out a sigh of relief and turns to his brothers, ready to be done conversing with you for the time being. He makes eye contact with Matt who smiles at him and mouths the words ‘help me’ while pointing towards your frame that happily skipped up to the register.

Matt laughed and patted Chris on the shoulder. “You agreed to it,” he tells him.

Back at the triplets house, you’re all crowded in Nick’s room, your dress laid out on his bed and Chris’s suit laid right next to it. “You put yours on first,” you tell him.

You wanted to see how you guys looked together before the actual day of the wedding, so you decided to try everything on now that you guys were both home and had corresponding outfits. You had brought your dress over earlier before you went shopping so that it was ready for you when you guys got back home.

Chris picks up his suit from the bed and walks into Nick’s bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

“How are you handling being Chris’s girlfriend?” Nick asks curiously, waggling his eyebrows at you.

You just laugh. “It’s not that bad, we just take pictures together every so often, but it’s just pictures. As much as I hate it I just have to remind myself that he’s giving me a date to a wedding so I don’t have to hear everyone asking me why I don’t have a boyfriend. A couple pictures in return for a night of silence sounds like a win to me.”

Nick and Matt chuckle, still shocked that you guys agreed to help each other in such an intimate way, considering your history.

“Why do I have a feeling you guys are going to fall in love?” Nick teases, but you just scoff at him.

“Yeah, right. I’d rather date you,” you smirk at Nick and make a kissy face towards him, leaning in like you were going to kiss him.

Nick cringes and puts his hand in your face, pushing you away as you guys hear the door open, Chris walking out in his suit, his tie in his hand.

“I, uh, don’t know how to tie this,” he says shyly, holding it out, clearly embarrassed.

You look around at his brothers and see them both looking just as clueless as Chris did. “Seriously?” You ask them.

“Our mom or dad always did it for school dances,” Matt tells you. “Never really worn a tie other than that.”

You huff and stand up off the bed, walking over to Chris, snatching the new tie out of his hands. “You guys are helpless,” you mumble, starting to situate the tie around his neck.

“‘M not helpless,” Chris says lowly, his voice slightly pouty.

“Oh, of course not,” you reply, looking up at him. “You’re just a twenty one year old boy that doesn’t know how to tie a tie, or fill out forms, or make a restaurant reservation…” you trail off.

“The fuck? I made a reservation for you and Matt tomorrow,” he argues.

“Tomorrow?” Matt whips his head around to look at his brother.

“Yeah?” Chris responds, looking at Matt over your head. “I told you I’d book it and then let you know when it was.”

“You didn’t think to ask first? Chris, I have plans,” Matt groans.

Chris’s eyes widen. “What fucking plans?! You never go anywhere.”

“I have an actual date tomorrow, I can’t make that. You should’ve told me when it was first or asked when I was free,” Matt tells him, finality clear in his voice.

“Kid, I had to put fucking a deposit down for this place, it’s non refundable. You need to go. Just reschedule your date.” Chris tells him.

Matt shakes his head, looking at Chris seriously. “No, dude, I’m not rescheduling. You should’ve asked.”

Chris groans and throws his head back, currently hating his life. You finish up with the tie and reach up to brush off Chris’s shoulders, then swipe your hands down his arms quickly before backing away. “Done,” you tell him, admiring your work. “You know, you could just suck it up and grab dinner with me. I’m not the worst person to be around.”

Chris turns around and goes back in the mirror to look at himself, shrugging a bit. “I’d prefer not to, but I also don’t want to lose my deposit.” He walks back out of the bathroom and past you, going to sit on the bed. “Alright, try your dress on now so I can take this off.”

You nod and grab your dress before walking into the bathroom, shutting the door after you. You slip off all of your clothes and step into your dress, pulling the straps over your shoulders. It fits well, and when you bought the dress a couple of months ago, you fell in love with it and the way it looked on your body, but now as you stare in the mirror, pulling the sides tight against your waist as the zipper was still down in the back, you couldn’t help but focus on all the imperfections staring back at you in the mirror. It almost makes you fully take the dress off and call it a day, figuring you’ll just put it on the day of the wedding and suck it up, but you would feel too bad making Chris get dressed up just to back out.

You’ve never explicitly told any of the triplets about any of your insecurities, just threw a few self deprecating comments out there like people normally do, and for the most part you were a confident person, but everyone had their days, and today was just one of those days.

You reach back and try to pull the zipper up, but you’re only able to zip it about halfway up on your own, so you slip back into your happy demeanor before you open the door and walk out, smiling at the three boys staring back at you. “Can one of you zip me up?” You ask.

Chris stands up from the bed and walks towards you. You’re shocked to see him volunteering without being coerced into it, but say nothing, afraid to startle him back to his senses. You just turn around and move your hair off your back, pulling it over your shoulder and he reaches out, grabbing the zipper and pulling it all the way up. “Good,” he tells you, and you turn back around to face him again.

“How do I look?” You ask the room, smiling wide and putting your hands on your hips dramatically. Chris moves out of the way so his brothers can see you, but keeps his eyes on your body.

“The same as you always look,” he retorts bluntly.

“You look hot,” Nick nods his head enthusiastically in approval.

“What Nick said,” Matt says in agreement. “I’m kind of sad I can’t make it now.”

You giggle at Matt’s words, feeling your ears heat up a little bit. You didn’t necessarily have a crush on Matt, but you couldn’t ignore the fact that he was attractive and his words did have a little bit of an effect on you.

“Thanks, guys. Come here, Chris, I want to look at us in the mirror.” You tell him and walk back into the bathroom where he follows you.

You both stand in the mirror together, looking at your outfits. You scrunch your eyebrows together and brush your hands over your dress, trying to pull it in a couple different directions to make it look more flattering on your body.

“What are you doing?” Chris asks you, watching you through the mirror as you play with your dress.

“Trying to fix the dress,” you mumble, sucking in a little bit as you turn to the side to stare at your reflection from another angle. “I think I gained a little weight and I just.. don’t really like how this is looking.”

Chris turns to look at you instead of your reflection, seeing how distraught you actually looked by the sight of your body in the dress.

“There’s nothing to fix, the dress is fine.” Chris is clearly uncomfortable at the way you’re speaking, but has no idea how to manage the situation. It was bad enough that he wasn’t good at dealing with other peoples’ emotions, but you two also weren’t close, so his urge to run away was even stronger than normal.

“It’s not the dress, I just…” your voice falters, eyes still glued to your body in the mirror. “I look bad.”

“Stop it,” he tells you, reaching out to turn your body towards his. You turn and look up to meet his eyes, your own starting to well with tears. “Why are you crying?”

You sniffle and shrug your shoulders, unable to speak in fear of your voice giving out on you.

He reaches behind himself and shuts the door, blocking his two brothers from earshot of you guys. “Why are you crying?” He asks you again, more firm this time.

You look down at the ground, sucking in a deep breath. “I’m just upset at how I look,” you tell him, voice high pitched and squeaky. “I really liked this dress when I got it but… I don’t know how I feel now.”

Chris sighs and reaches forward, placing a finger under your chin so he could tilt up your head. “Stop crying,” he tells you. “You look really good in that dress. Your body is incredible and you know it, that’s why you always walk around my house in your little booty shorts and a sports bra, isn’t it?”

You cough out a laugh and reach up to wipe a couple tears that fell down your cheek. “Not really, I’m just really comfortable around you guys. Even you wouldn’t think to comment on my body. You’re dumb but you’re not that dumb.”

Chris rolls his eyes at you and shakes his head. “Well, I’m commenting on it and I’m telling you that you look fine. Girls would kill to look like you. Once you do your hair and your makeup and shave your legs or whatever girls do you’ll feel way better about how you look. So, sort yourself out, change back into your clothes and go cuddle with my brothers or whatever weird shit you do with them.”

You smile and nod, the tears subsiding almost completely as he speaks. “Okay,” you mutter. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” Chris replies. “Seriously. Ever. I don’t ever want anyone knowing I… comforted you.”

You giggle at his words and watch as he turns to leave the bathroom before you try and stop him.

“Wait, Chris,” you touch his shoulder and he turns around, looking at you confusedly. “I need you to unzip me.”

“Oh,” Chris starts, moving his feet to come back to you. You turn around and place your hands over your breasts to hold the dress in place once it’s unzipped and he reaches up to unzip it down to your lower back, the small spaghetti straps falling off of your shoulders as he does so. “There you go.”

You turn back around to face him, still holding the dress. His eyes couldn’t help but wander, taking one last look at your body, so close to being completely naked in front of him. All you had to do was let go and the dress would fall to the floor-

“I said thanks,” you say loudly and Chris clears his throat, looking back up to your eyes. He doesn’t respond, just leaves the bathroom and shuts the door, not even speaking to his brothers before he leaves Nick’s room and heads towards his own.

You turn back to the mirror and drop the dress, staring at yourself a few minutes longer, and the more you stand there, the more you feel your mood shifting, and what started as a judgmental and negative stare slowly turns into you checking yourself out, posing for yourself almost completely naked apart from your underwear. You hum to yourself and send a wink towards your reflection before getting dressed again, walking into Nick’s room.

Right now you wore sweatpants and a loose crop top with the collar cut out so it hung off your shoulders, but you strutted over to Nick’s dresser where you had some clothes you had left and he had so graciously washed for you, digging out a pair of old Nike pros and a sports bra, turning around and smirking at the boys that watched you from the bed, eyes wide.

“What… happened in there?” Nick asks, scared for the answer.

You just giggle and rip your shirt over your shoulders in front of both boys, causing Matt to gasp and cover his eyes with his fingers, though he might’ve kept a small slit between his pointer and middle finger, who knows, whereas Nick’s eyes just got even wider, his eyes trailing over your body as you pulled the sports bra over your head, changing your bottom half next until you were fully changed, letting Matt know he was okay to look.

“I know you’re my best friend but I am still only a man,” Matt tells you, not so subtly checking you out, which only boosted your confidence more. Maybe you were searching for validation in the wrong people, but fuck it you needed it right now and if Matt and god forbid Chris were going to be the men that made you feel like they were going to melt at the sight of you then so be it.

“It’s like window shopping,” you tell Matt with a grin. “You can admire but you can’t touch.”

Matt couldn’t help his cheeks turning slightly darker at your words. “Sure…” he replies, definitely not sure.

“Anyway,” you start, clapping your hands together. “You guys hungry? I’m in the mood to cook.”

You had scrounged up what you could in the triplets’ kitchen and ended up cooking them some basic pasta, throwing all the boys’ portions onto a plate along with your own, putting everything on the table, calling Matt and Nick to the table who sat on their couch waiting patiently for dinner to be ready.

“I’m gonna get your brother,” you tell them with a smile before skipping towards the stairs, heading down them quickly. “Chris?” You call, standing in his doorframe.

He glances up at you quickly then back down at his phone before he rips his head back up, doing a double take, eyes scanning over the new outfit that had adorned your body. “Uh,” he drawls, looking up to meet your gaze. “Can I help you?”

You smile and place one foot on top of the other, your front knee buckled slightly, hands placed on the doorframe as you stared back at him where he lay on his bed. “I made dinner. You coming?”

Chris thinks about it for a moment before he shakes his head. “I’m not hungry.” He tells you, looking back down at his phone.

You huff and walk over to him until you’re standing next to his bed, reaching down to grab his phone and pull it behind your back. “Already made you a plate.” You tell him.

Chris furrows his eyebrows and sits up on the bed, quickly getting frustrated with you. “Stop fucking doing that shit every time your spoiled ass doesn’t get what you want. Give me my fucking phone.” He says aggressively, voice a tad louder than it normally is.

“Not until you come have dinner with us. I don’t want your food going to waste,” you pout, both hands now securely locked behind your back, phone held sideways between them. “Don’t be so rude, it’s fucking annoying.”

Chris scoffs out a laugh and shakes his head in disbelief. “I’m rude? You’re just coming in my room and snatching shit out of my hands like a fucking toddler, that seems pretty rude to me.”

You take a tiny step closer to Chris, jutting out your bottom lip. “Please?” You beg.

He’s still for a moment, and at first when his body starts to move, your first thought is that he’s giving in and standing up to go have dinner with you and his brothers, but you’re quickly proven wrong when he stands up and grabs your bicep, flipping your body around. You squeal at the sudden movement, stumbling over your own to feet as he spins you.

What you definitely didn’t expect was him facing you towards the bed and grabbing your hands that were still behind your back with one hand, his other hand taking his phone and shoving it in his pocket. He pushes you down on the bed aggressively, your feet still on the floor but your body bent over with your chest pressed into the mattress, leaning over your back until his mouth was next to your ear, making sure you heard the words that were about to fall from his lips.

“Watch your fucking attitude around me before I fucking make you.”

He aggressively shoves your arms, pushing you into the bed roughly as he lets go of you, glaring your way as he starts to walk out of his room, eventually turning his head and exiting, stomping up the stairs.

You use your now free hands to push yourself up until you’re standing straight again, then use them to reach up to your bun that almost completely fell out, grabbing the hair tie and ripping it out.

It took you a moment to process what had happened, but you thought back to it and how it made you feel, and most importantly the newfound throbbing between your legs. You stand there in silence, arms dropped to your sides, until you let out a quiet and confused,

“What the fuck?”

a/n: the tension is buildinggggg yall feel it??

taglist

@liiixsturniolos @madelinesturn @st6niolo @mattslolita @ifwdominicfike @sophand4n4 @chris-hallelujah @sophsturns @ariana2saucyy @045696 @scorpioosworld @byhrxb @vickytaa @taelovesmattsturniolo @secret-sturniolo @theboredknightcat-blog @slvtf0rchr1s @flouqissss @gabri3la-sturns @delilahsturniolo @starstrucktyrantinfluencer @vanillsstuff @sturnlsstuff @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @mattsbrat @mattsfavoritestar @dominicfikeenthusiast @certified-sturniolo @chrisslollipop @noplaceissafeanymore @sofiaaguilaxx @idrk2292 @dylansfavwife @pvssychicken @sturnl0ve @sturnioloangelxoxo @afilmbykay @sofia-is-a-sturniolo-triplet-fan @r0s3luvr @milasturniolo @mattsdillion

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #matt x reader #matt x you #chris sturniolo fanfic #chris x you #chris x reader #christopher sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #smoke and mirrors

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w4ndal0ver · 5 months ago

Text

The Art of Submission (4) [Edging]

[minors don't interact, 18+]

pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader

chapter summary: The first session begins and Wanda tests how long she can keep you on edge, before seeing how many times you can cum for her.

whole summary: As a growing author, you're grappling with a frustrating writer's block while trying to craft your next lesbian erotic novel. With a lack of personal experience holding you back, inspiration seems just out of reach. But when a captivating neighbour steps in, offering unexpected support and a tantalizing invitation to explore the depths of desire, you find yourself on a journey that blurs the lines between reality and fiction, leading to a discovery that you definitely weren't expecting.

content warnings: continuing the insane amount of sexual tension, edging, orgasm denial, begging, fingering (r receiving), cunnilingus (r receiving), strap on use (r receiving), spitting, spanking, restraints

note: So this is the fourth installment and finally we have some well earned smut. The way i'm seeing the chapters from now is a different kink or power dynamic, so if anyone wants anything in particular, just leave it in my asks and i can include it, enjoy <3

The Art of Submission - Chapter 4, Edging

Wanda stood before you, your eyes gleaming up at the redhead in nervous anticipation. Everything about this felt so uncontrollably vulnerable, her fully dressed figure making circles around your body dressed in scarlet lace. Her gentle hands kept brushing against your skin, taking her fingertips across the length of your collarbone, dragging them up along your neck, twirling itself in the strands of hair that hung from your bun.

“You look so perfect,” she hums, her eyes drinking up the sigh of you, “Just sitting there, all mine.” Her glance notices the way your hands sit perfectly flat against your thighs, all she could think about was how you were perfectly written for her. No experience but knowing everything that she would want based on your writing. She takes her bottom lip between her teeth as she continues to devour you with her stare.

Wanda glimpses at the untouched plates, then back at you with a sly grin. “Looks like dinner didn’t stand a chance, huh?” she murmurs, her fingers brushing against your waist. “Guess we got a little distracted.” Her eyes flick down to the table, then back up, dark and commanding. "Why don’t you clear the table, sweetheart? I need the space for something else."

Your hands tremble slightly as you begin stacking the plates, each movement deliberate, almost reverent under Wanda’s intense gaze. Her presence makes every action feel charged, like she’s watching your every move, waiting for you to finish. By the time the table is cleared, your pulse is racing, the weight of anticipation heavy in the air.

"Good girl," she murmurs. "Now, up you go.” You do as she says, immediately, not wanting any accusation of hesitation. She just watches you do exactly what she says, all she can think of is how willing your submission is, how corruptible you could be, your words holding every ounce of your experience. She couldn’t wait to watch you break as you realise the intensity of how the things you write about actually feel. “Spread out for me angel.” Wanda encourages, tapping your thighs as you are lying on your back, hands flush against your stomach.

Wanda noticed your chest rising and falling, your eyes closed and head tilted back. “Colour honey.”

“Green.” You say in a shaky rasp, and that same dangerous smile plastered itself over Wanda’s face, her fingers coming straight back to your thighs, tracing shapes against your skin, taking her time painfully slow.

Wanda steps closer, her presence radiating authority as she leans over you, her gaze sharp and hungry. “You look absolutely gorgeous,” she murmurs, her voice low and sultry. “But I want to see every inch of you tremble at my touch.”

Her fingers trail deliberately along your collarbone, igniting every nerve in your body. She reaches up to the ties at the back of your neck, her movements purposeful and assured. “Let's get this off you.” she commands, a playful smirk dancing on her lips.

She helps you sit up again, fingers brushing the back of your neck as she deftly unties the knot. “Lift your chin for me,” She instructs, her tone leaving no room for argument so you comply, feeling both exposed and electrified by her authority.

With a practised motion, she pulls the bodysuit loose, the fabric clinging for a moment longer before it begins to fall away. She leans in closer, her breath hot against your skin. “You have no idea how fucking tempting you are,” she breathes, her eyes darkening with lust.

Wanda grips the bodysuit firmly, her fingers brushing your thighs as she pulls it down with tantalising slowness. “Let’s get rid of this completely,” she states, her voice laced with a sultry command.

With one decisive tug, she yanks the bodysuit down, letting it pool around your ankles and leaving you entirely bare before her. “There we go,” she declares, her eyes roaming over your body with unabashed desire. “Now you’re exactly how I want you—completely vulnerable.” It was Wanda’s turn to be taken aback by the way your body looks completely undressed.

Her eyes widen as she takes a moment to look at all of you, your body soft, curves accentuated under the warm glow of the light above you. A slow satisfied smile spreads across her lips and her fingers twitch with the urge to touch you. You feel the heat of her palm as it glides along your side, igniting your skin. “Look at you,” Her voice thick with admiration. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.” Her eyes dark with desire, a primal instinct seems to take over as she leans in closer, her face inches from yours.

Wanda’s gaze roams up to your face, capturing the way your lips part slightly in anticipation. The contrast of your soft features against your bare skin captivates her, and she can't help but admire how your vulnerability fuels her own need.

“Every inch of you is perfect,” she breathes, her voice low and sultry. She reaches up, brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face, her fingers lingering on your cheek, as if tracing the outline of your features. As her hand slides down to your collarbone, her fingertips dance across your skin, exploring the delicate curves before moving lower, brushing teasingly against your breasts. Wanda’s eyes gleam with satisfaction, her expression of pure lust and delight as she takes in the sight of you, completely vulnerable and inviting. Your nipples immediately stand at the feeling of her nimble fingers grazing them softly. She pinches lightly at your painfully erect buds, making your back arch into her touch, a small panting moan escaping your lips before she lets go of you, a surge of fire shooting through your body as the blood is allowed to flow back to your nipples.

Her attention finally draws towards the pool of arousal that was building between your legs, your skin glistening, slick with desire. Wanda purposefully starts to circle the pad of her finger around your hardened nipple, smirking as she sees your wetness grow at just a few gentle touches. She had tried to drag this out for as long as she could, but the sight of your pussy aching, almost trembling, begging to be touched, she couldn’t help but gather your arousal with her finger. You immediately gasp at the contact, your lips turning in on themselves as you wait.

She begins to do a similar motion that made you break so quickly last time, tapping the top of your clit in an attempt to make you more sensitive to her touch, making you wish she was drawing tight circles. This didn’t seem to matter, your hips immediately buckling upwards in a desperate attempt to gain some level of continuous pressure.

“You’re already so sensitive honey,” She breathes, a grin tugging at her lips, “I like my pretty girls to stay still for me,” She states in a commanding purr, “Keep your legs open like this princess.” You nod immediately, doing anything to get her where you want her again.

Wanda reaches back over, watching the muscles in your legs quiver in an attempt to do as she asks. This time, the arousal she gathers is used to form slick circles against your clit, a gentle moan tumbling from your lips as you try desperately to keep your legs apart. The heat was building, your core beginning to weaken as Wanda continued the same pressure, same speed against you.

“Please, Wanda, I need you inside of me.” You sputter, the motions against your clit reminding you of how empty you were.

“So eager.” Wanda hums, her middle finger pulling away from your clit, curving around your folds and finding itself waiting at your entrance. She waited a few more seconds before slipping it slowly inside of you. It wasn’t a lot, but the weight it held on your desperate body was unlike anything. You let out a high pitched moan at the feeling of her inside of you, her finger gently thrusting into you, each pump and her finger curled up to meet your spot.

“God you’re so tight for me.” Wanda exclaims, a deepened smirk on her redhead's face as her index finger works its way inside of you, finding the perfect rhythm and perfect pleasure. She can feel you beginning to tighten even more than before, so her other hand finds the same circular motion around your clit that makes you tremble. Your string of moans had become louder and your chest had begun to rise and fall faster. As your body tightens, on the brink of release, Wanda pulls her hand away. “Not yet princess, I think I need to stretch you out a little more first.” You immediately whimper in frustration, exactly what the redhead wanted from you.

Without a word, Wanda left the room, leaving you with your legs spread, arousal leaking out of you, your core burning from being left on the edge. She re-emerges quite quickly and you tilt your head up to see what she has done. She was holding some rope and a wand, smaller than the usual type, the type that looked like it would be light enough to stay in place.

“I need you to stay still for me like I asked you, pretty girl.” Wanda warned in response to your hips jolting upwards from the sight of Wanda’s new props. She ties the rope around your waist, looping it carefully around your thighs, securing the vibrator through the small opening that she’d created.

She doesn’t turn it on immediately, just watching as your cheeks grow red at your new level of vulnerability. “Hands remain on the table.” She orders before immediately sliding her two fingers back inside of you, creating that same relentless rhythm, but this time you could feel the power she was putting in her wrist. Before you have a chance to react to her fingers, she switches the vibrator on to the lowest setting sending shockwaves through your body. Your body was tensing in an attempt to stay as still as you could, but the vibrations were intensifying everything and you could feel yourself getting closer again.

She pulls out of you, turning the vibrator off just at the right time. She had become so fine tuned to your body already, noticing exactly when your growing orgasm was just reaching its peak. She didn’t say anything this time, just caressing your thighs and feeling the warmth radiating from every inch of bare skin on show to her.

She barely gives you a chance to recover, switching on the vibrator to which you immediately gasp and whimper underneath her gaze. This time, she thrusts three fingers into you and you moan pornographically at the forceful stretch around her digits. Your thighs tremble, wanting to close, you move them just an inch but Wanda stops everything the moment you even dare to move them.

Her fingers dig into your jaw, forcefully grabbing your face and turning it towards hers. “Don’t make me angry angel.” She warns, voice low, dark, laced with a stern desire. The desire in your eyes catching her off guard, she’d been so focused on your body that she’d forgotten your youthful innocence and the way you wanted to please her. She let go of your face, instead her hand wrapping firmly around your throat, squeezing the sides briefly as a distant reminder to stay with your legs openly spread.

With your little slip up she removes the vibrator from its place, a small whine leaving your lips but you’re met with a squinted look and you immediately fall silent. She goes to untie the rope, but she decides to leave it, liking the way it makes you look. Her eyes were glimmering with satisfaction at the sight of your shaking body. She pulls you to the edge of the table by the underneath of your thighs, your skin fires beneath her hands. She begins to place gentle kisses against your legs, leaving trails of her beige lipstick, the once singular prints becoming a long stretch of paint up your thighs. She places an individual kiss against your clit, feeling your hips buckle upwards so she places her hand on your lower stomach, forcing you to stay still. She could tell you were going to need physical restraints in the future, your incessant squirming causing her issues.

She starts gentle, her mouth finding your leaking arousal, slowly lapping at your soaked entrance before taking her tongue up the entire length of your slit, stopping just before your aching clit. She allows your clit to be taken between her lips, lightly sucking against your bud and you could barely hear yourself moaning with such passion in the heat of it all. She begins to flick her tongue back and forth over your clit, reaching her hand over to allow for her fingers to gather up some of your arousal as she feels your body begin to shake uncontrollably. Your body is hanging on the edge, doing everything you can to not push yourself over the edge. She places one final kiss against your entrance before coming up for a breath.

“You’re doing so well for such an inexperienced whore.” She growls, her primal instincts taking over, all of your pretty sounds and pathetic squirming making it impossible for her to not allow you to cum over and over, screaming out your name in a gut wrenching attempt to keep ahold of yourself. Wanda moves around the table, allowing her fingers to graze your lips, slowly parting them.

“Open your mouth,” she commands, her voice low and sultry, sending a thrill down your spine. You hesitate for a moment, the weight of her words settling over you. But the heat in her eyes encourages you to comply. You part your lips slowly, anticipation building as you lean closer, the space between you charged with electric tension.

With deliberate slowness, Wanda brings her fingers to your mouth, the tips glistening slightly as they hover before you. “Good girl. I want you to taste yourself,” she instructs, her tone firm yet inviting. You can’t help but shiver at the authority in her voice, the way it wraps around you like a warm embrace.

She presses her fingers past your lips, the soft warmth of her skin brushing against your tongue. “Just like that,” she murmurs, her breath hitching as you begin to suck gently, your eyes wide with a mix of desire and uncertainty. The taste of you is intoxicating, and as you swirl your tongue around her fingers, you can see the satisfaction blooming in her gaze.

“See how easy it is to submit tp what you want?” she teases, her voice thick with pleasure. Her fingers curl slightly, pressing deeper into your mouth, and you can feel the rush of heat flooding your cheeks. “You’re doing so well, but I need you to beg for it,” she urges, her voice a sultry whisper.

You can feel the tension coiling within you, the need for more bubbling to the surface. “Please, Wanda,” you manage to murmur around her fingers, desperation lacing your words. “I want more.”

A wicked smile spreads across her face, and she withdraws her fingers just enough to tease you, the loss of contact making you whine softly in protest. “I know you want more, baby. But I want you to really earn it. Keep sucking. Show me how much you crave it.”

With that, you dive back in, your lips working hungrily around her fingers, the sensation pushing you further into a state of bliss. Wanda watches you intently, her breath quickening as she revels in the sight of you completely lost in submission.

Suddenly, she thrusts her fingers deeper, the movement swift and demanding. You gag slightly, your throat tightening around her, and your eyes widen with surprise. “That’s it, just like that,” she encourages, her voice low and breathy. “Feel it. Let go of that hesitation.”

Each thrust is deliberate, her fingers stretching you, hitting the back of your throat. You can hear the wet sounds as you try to accommodate her, your body instinctively fighting to breathe. “Don’t pull away,” she instructs, her tone laced with both authority and encouragement. “You’re doing so well for me love. Just breathe through it.”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you struggle to hold back the reflex to recoil, but the thrill of the moment and her praise spurs you on. You look up at her, desperation mixed with a newfound hunger reflected in your gaze. Wanda’s eyes darken with desire, and she leans closer, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. “I want to see you choke on my fingers like my pathetic little whore. Let me know how much you want it.”

You moan around her digits, the sound vibrating through your chest, a mix of pleasure and the instinctive urge to push her away. But you can’t. You won’t. All that matters is her, and the intoxicating thrill of submission that flows through you like fire burning straight to your core. The sound of you gagging around her fingers coated in your own arousal was making Wanda’s legs buckle slightly, but she wasn’t going to stop. Once she’d removed her fingers from your mouth, she spread your saliva over your lips and down your chin, letting you be painted in a mix of spit and arousal, your lips still parted, small pants escaping them.

She went back to her original position, her shoulders budging between your thighs and instead of taking it slow, her tongue immediately attacked your already sensitive and burning clit. Wanda began to find those circles you loved so much with her tongue, hardening her muscle and getting you closer and closer to the edge, quicker and quicker than the times before. She switches out her tongue for her fingers, “You taste so sweet,” she purrs, a wicked grin on her lips, “And look at you, so pathetic and desperate for me.”

You groan, unable to form any words, your body unable to still itself, your back arching for me. So she dives back in, rough and intense, both her tongue and fingers getting you back to that same brink that you had become so familiar with. Just as you’re about to tip over, she pulls back again, a chuckle emitting from her lips in harmony with your desperate whimpers of pure frustration.

“If you want it,” She teases, her voice dripping with cruelty as you hang on the edge, “You’ll have to beg.”

Wanda, please... touch me again,” you beg, the words spilling out in a breathless rush, the desperation had taken over any ounce of humiliation you feel at begging like this. “I can’t take it. I need your fingers inside me. I need to feel you just one more time, please!”

Wanda’s lips curl into a slow, deliberate smile, and she tilts her head, eyes glimmering with mischief. “Oh, sweetheart, you want me to touch you? You want to feel my fingers again?” She taunts, her tone sultry, each word dripping with seduction.

“Yes!” you cry out, your desperation rising. “I need it, Wanda! I’m so close, just a little more! I promise I’ll be your good little girl. I’ll do whatever you want, just please touch me again!” You arch your back slightly, instinctively trying to draw her closer, your body aching for her touch.

She leans in, her breath hot against your ear. “You want me to touch you? Beg for it like you mean it. Show me just how much you want it, you can do better than this.” she whispers, her voice a silky promise that sends shivers down your spine.

You swallow hard, your heart racing as you feel the weight of her words. “I need you, Wanda, I can't hold back anymore. I want to feel you again; I want your fingers working me up until I can’t take it anymore! I need you to make me feel good please let me come for you.” Your voice wavers, thick with urgency and need.

Wanda watches you intently, her eyes dark with desire. “That’s more like it,” she murmurs, clearly enjoying your pleas. Your body trembles with anticipation, the overwhelming need coursing through you, begging for her touch. You meet her gaze, your eyes wide and pleading, silently begging her to see just how desperate you are. “But don’t be so ungrateful.” Her voice snaps and she leans over again, her nails digging into your chin as she pushes your head up to meet hers. She prises your lips open between her fingers, slowly drawing a long line of spit from her mouth so it lands exactly onto your tongue. She forces your mouth shut. “Swallow it,” She commands, her eyes locked on yours, “Or I’ll leave you here aching for me.”

You comply happily, swallowing quickly, the taste of her sending another wave of arousal through you. She smirks, grabbing your hand and pressing it against her crotch. You breathe slowly, your eyes widening when you feel a hard bulge underneath her trousers. She was already wearing a strap, and she’d been wearing it the whole time. You swallow again, this time with nerves. She’d made you feel fucked out with just her fingers, her stamina relentless against your trembling body. “Just incase my poor baby became ungrateful and I had to fuck it out of her.”

Your body responds instantly, arousal doubling between your legs. Wanda continues to tease you once more, she barely circled your clit for thirty seconds before you were at the edge again. Begging wasn’t an option anymore, it was a necessity.

“Pleas-”

Her eyes flash with a mix of desire and authority, but something shifts in her demeanour. Your pleading seems to reach a breaking point within her. In one swift motion, she grabs your waist, flipping you over onto the table with an ease that sends a thrill through you.

“Enough of this,” she says, her voice low and commanding. You feel the cool surface of the table against your skin, a stark contrast to the heat pooling in your core. She unzips her trousers, pulling them down and stepping out of them, she was so deep in her own heat now that her grasps against her own trousers were the least controlled out of any. Wanda positions herself behind you, the unmistakable weight of her strap pressing against you, eliciting a soft whimper from your lips. “You need to learn to take what I give you and stop complaining.”

As she slides into you, it’s a seamless invasion, filling you completely. A deep, primal gasp escapes you, a mix of surprise and pleasure as you adjust to the sensation. Wanda holds your hips firm, her grip possessive and reassuring, making sure you’re wholly hers in this moment.

“Now, let’s see just how well you can handle this,” she breathes, her voice sultry and filled with authority. With that, she begins to move, her rhythm deliberate and punishing, igniting every nerve ending within you. “Look at how well you take me,” She pants, forcing your body to meet every hard and rough thrust that she piles into you, your body nothing more than a moaning desperate mess. “You’re made to take my cock, it fits you perfectly.”

Wanda continues to roughly thrust into you, but once she snakes her arm around your body, one hand begins to circle your clit, while the other grips the fistful of hair that you’d bundled atop of your head, pulling you body back to meet her movements. You know you’re dangerously close, but you didn’t want to beg again, you were just praying that she’d stop before you had no choice but to cum all over Wanda’s scarlet red cock.

“Go ahead,” She says, and your eyes widen at the unexpected permission, “Cum for me, but If you do, I’m not stopping.”

Your body obeys instinctively, breaking under the relentless pressure as your climax crashes through you. You cum hard, your muscles clenching, back arching, but Wanda doesn’t relent. Her thrusts only quicken, her grip on your hips tightening with possessive intensity.

“Don’t think,” she growls low in your ear, her voice dripping with control. “Just keep cumming for me. I’ll do the thinking for you.”

The sharp sting of her palm lands on your ass, a slap that reverberates through you, sending a fresh wave of pleasure-pain shooting up your spine. The sensation tips you over the edge again, your body trembling as another orgasm builds impossibly fast, the intensity leaving you breathless and quaking beneath her. You’d never orgasmed twice in such a quick succession. “Mm, You can cum from just one spank, you’re so pathetic.” She spat at you, pulling out of you quickly, your cunt on fire with sensitivity.

Wanda flips you onto your back with effortless strength, her movements controlled but purposeful. Her eyes lock on your flushed, tear-streaked face, and a wicked gleam flickers in her gaze. She leans over you, her lips hovering just above yours. “I want to see that pretty face when you break for me,” she murmurs, her thumb brushing gently across your smudged lipstick. Her touch is almost tender, a stark contrast to the intense control she exudes.

For a moment, her expression softens as she wipes the mascara-streaked tears from your cheeks, her fingers warm against your skin. It’s a fleeting tenderness that sends a wave of vulnerability through you. Then, without warning, she captures your lips in a heated kiss, her mouth hot and possessive against yours. Her breath mingles with yours as she whispers against your lips, “You’re perfect.”

Her words sink into you, a heady mix of praise and control. You shudder beneath her, the tenderness making you feel even more exposed. Her pace slows as she shifts between your legs, her fingers moving with calculated precision, circling your swollen clit. The sensation burns through you, rising in waves, her touch just enough to push you toward the edge but not enough to tip you over.

“You’re going to keep cumming for me, aren’t you?” she purrs, her voice sultry and commanding. Each word feels like a command you can't refuse, your body already responding to her every touch. “You want to impress me, don’t you?”

You nod desperately, the ache in your core unbearable, every nerve in your body on high alert. A small, satisfied grin tugs at the corner of Wanda’s mouth. “Then thank me. Every. Single. Time,” she orders, her fingers increasing their pressure, drawing tight circles against your clit, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

Your orgasm builds, sharp and unstoppable. When it crashes over you, your voice breaks as you gasp, “Thank you,” the words spilling from your lips in a hoarse whisper. Wanda’s eyes glint with satisfaction as she watches you unravel beneath her, but she doesn't stop. Her fingers continue to work you, expertly building you up again. Wanda’s grin grows wider, a mix of pride and control in her expression as she drinks in the sight of you coming apart under her touch.

“You’re doing so well,” she murmurs, her voice dripping with praise, her fingers never faltering. She watches every tremor in your body, every gasp that escapes your lips, her gaze filled with a deep, almost possessive satisfaction. “Keep cumming for me. I want you to give me everything.”

You nod frantically, tears pooling at the corner of your eyes from the overwhelming intensity, knowing you’ll do anything to keep her pleased. Each time you shatter beneath her, you thank her, your voice growing weaker, more desperate, but Wanda's control over you only deepens, her satisfaction palpable with every broken plea that leaves your lips.

“Colour sweetheart?” She asks in response to your limp fucked out body, you could barely think straight, but you knew one thing, you didn’t want her to stop this ever.

“Green, so green, oh my god.” Wanda loved the response, gripping your ass and pulling your body up to her face, now balancing your body on your elbows as she holds your pussy up to her mouth. Every single flick of her tongue, every suck that she makes against your clit between her lips was beginning to burn, your body unable to react to any contact anymore.

“It’s okay honey, just one more for me okay.” Wanda coos, feeling your trembling body underneath her harsh grip against your thighs, her nails still digging in, it would definitely leave a mark. “I just want to see you cum against my tongue like my dirty little slut one more time.” She’d become addicted to watching you cum, the way her name would tumble from your lips in a gut-wrenching plea for the session to be over.

You give it to her, the time between your orgasms had gotten continually shorter, and now even though every part of your body was resisting the harsh swipes of her tongue against your clit, each swirl she took against your arousal, you could feel your orgasm getting closer and closer, not able to stop it even if you wanted to.

When you came, you came hard, Wanda’s name escaping your lips in a scream as your body went into complete overdrive. You couldn’t stop the shaking and the squirming as you writhe around with the intense amount of pleasure that shot through your body. Finally, Wanda lets you come back down, your body trembling with exhaustion. Her touch turns soft, soothing, as she pulls you up into her arms, perching on the table in order to cradle your trembling figure. “Thank you.”

“You did so well for me,” She whispers, kissing your temple. Her fingers undo the bun that was already half out from all the manhandling. Now she can drag her nails through your hair as she holds you, grounding you back after the intensity of the session. She grabs you a blanket from the sofa behind her, wrapping you carefully up like her little present. “I’m so proud of you sweetheart,” She states with confidence, her cheeks glowing as she whispers endless praises into your ear.

“That was incredible Wands, I really want to be yours, in any way that you want me.” You say honestly, your voice still wobbling as you warmed up under the blanket. “I never want to stop.”

“We don’t have to pretty girl, you will be mine for as long as you wish to be.” She says honestly, placing a kiss against your temple, “You’re proving to be an exemplary little one, hm.” You smile at her praise, snuggling your head into the crook of your neck while Wanda reaches for a glass of water for you. “Rest now baby, I’ll take care of everything.”

She waits for you to be ready before getting up and setting some pillows down on the sofa for you to finally relax properly, which you immediately take her up on. She hovers around you, not knowing where your limits lie in terms of aftercare, not wanting to break any boundaries.

“Are you joining me?” You ask innocently, opening up your arm and offering her a place to sit and cuddle into you. She looks hesitant at first, nervous about breaking any of her limits, but the way you’re sat huddled in a blanket, those innocent puppy dog eyes that she couldn’t resist. She sits down next to you, the sofa dipping at the weight and goes to put her arm around you. You push her away, pulling her in and watch as her cheeks flush pink as you squeezed her arm. “Is this okay?”

“I love it.”

716 notes · View notes

chososcamgirl · 5 months ago

Text

(SHE’S) JUST A PHASE CHAPTER ELEVEN: flirting in space

masterlist

She flops onto the bed, her stomach pressing against the soft duvet. “Dude, what is your bed made out of?” she mumbles, her face buried in the white fabric.

That is definitely going to leave a stain for sure.

Megumi stifles a laugh as he quietly closes his bedroom door and takes a seat beside her, the bed sinking on one side. “So, are we going to watch this stupid movie of yours or what?”

She shoots up, a mix of shock and indignation flashing across her face. “I actually cannot believe you said that about Little Women” she retorts him with a scoff, playfully shoving his chest.

“Besides” she begins while pulling her hair away from her face, “I decided that The Virgin Suicides is a better fitting movie for your first femcel watch”

“Why’s that?” he quirks an eyebrow.

“I wanna see you as uncomfortable as possible”, she grins.

He rolls his eyes, letting out a dramatic sigh as his back hits the mattress beside her. With a casual motion, he places his hands behind his head, gazing up at the ceiling.

They both lie there, staring at the glow-in-the-dark stars that adorn the raven-haired boy’s ceiling, a constellation of dreams lighting up the dark room.

It felt silly seeing such a child-like thing in his bedroom, it was absurd even, yet she understood. Understood the need to cling to the fragments of her childhood. Those memories, like distant stars, offered a comforting light in the darkness. She could almost hear the echoes of laughter on long summer days, the sticky sweetness of melted ice creams, and the chaotic joy of birthday parties. Each scrape and bruise carried a story, a testament to the adventures that once defined her youth. All of that resembled each star stuck onto the ceiling - thirty-two to be exact. Each one a symbol of a cherished moment—shining brightly yet tinged with an ache for what had been lost to the passage of time. The ache of the simplicity of those carefree days

"When did you start playing guitar?" she asks, interrupting the comfortable silence that had settled between them.

The living room is cozy, illuminated by the soft glow of the overhead lights and filled with the warm, buttery scent of freshly popped popcorn.

"I started when I was thirteen," he replies, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his voice.

He turns his head for moment, his eyes absently looking at a framed portrait of something far too small for her to see.

"My dad used to teach me."

"Oh," she says, leaning in a little closer, her eyes searching his for more. There's a flicker of something in his expression that makes her heart ache—a blend of fondness and sadness.

"Yeah, he left us, though." His voice drops, the weight of his words hanging heavy in the air.

She watches as his gaze drifts to the wall, lost in memories that seem to swirl just out of reach.

She lets out a laugh, but it quickly transforms into a cough, the awkwardness of the moment catching her off guard.

"Okay fuck you," he snaps, standing up abruptly, the frustration palpable in his posture.

"I’m sorry but the trauma dumping caught me off guard, you dropped that on me out of nowhere!" she defends, she muffles behind a hand, still caught off gaurd by the sudden information.

She brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear, trying to regain her composure.

He scoffs and steps toward the flatscreen mounted on the wall, its black surface gleaming under the lights.

"Parents do suck, though," she continues, her tone becoming more contemplative.

"They usually write you in their will or leave a family heirloom in your name - not a lifetime full of trauma and trust issues"

She lets out a long sigh, the weight of her words sinking into the atmosphere.

He raises an eyebrow, intrigued by her candidness. Grabbing the remote and the bowl of popcorn he had prepared earlier, he settles onto the floor in front of her, the soft thud of his body breaking the tension. The popcorn clinking against the bowl.

Leaning back so her head hangs over the edge of the couch, she looks at him upside down, a playful grin breaking across her face.

"At least the trauma made me hot and funny."

Her eyes sparkle with mischief as she tries to inject humor back into their conversation.

"Neither of those are true," he replies with a smirk, scrolling through Netflix, his thumb moving methodically over the remote.

The light from the screen casts a flickering glow on their faces, adding to the intimacy of the moment. She lifts her head until she's right side up, then snatches the remote from him, sticking out her tongue in playful defiance.

"Riilight," she says, dripping with sarcasm, unable to suppress her laughter any longer.

As she continues scrolling, her brow furrows in concentration, her fingers dancing over the screen. Suddenly, a familiar cover catches her eye—a close-up of a blonde.

"YES!" she exclaims, her excitement bubbling over as she presses play. The sound of the opening theme fills the room, and she plops down next to him grabbing a handful of popcorn.

“I’m going to quiz you afterward, so you better be paying attention!” she exclaims, her mouth full of popcorn, kernels spilling slightly over her lips.

He shakes his head, a bemused smile on his face as he watches her horrible table manners. “Yeah, yeah, whatever just shut up and watch the movie,” he replies, amusement lacing his voice.

—

“It didn’t matter how old they had been, or that they were girls. But only that we had loved them, and that they hadn’t heard us calling, still did not hear us calling them out of those rooms. Where they went to be alone all time, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together.”

A blank screen suddenly filled with white text that began to ascend slowly, leaving the pair enveloped in a heavy silence, both grappling with the weight of what they had just witnessed.

“What the fuck,” Megumi finally murmured, his voice low and incredulous.

“So… didja like it?” she asked, tilting her head slightly, a teasing glimmer in her eyes.

“Liked it? Did I like it?” he echoed, incredulous.

“Yeah, did you?”

Megumi turned to face her, locking eyes with an intensity that was both surprising and distraught.

“DID THEY ALL JUST FUCKING DIE?!” he shouted, hands gripping her shoulders as he shook her gently, urgency radiating from him.

“IS THERE A SECOND MOVIE? WE HAVE TO WATCH IT! WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? WHY DID THEY CUT DOWN THE TREE?” His questions spilled out in a rush, a torrent of disbelief and passion that made her laugh despite the intensity of the moment.

“YN, WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?” he asked, bewildered.

“Shhhh,” she urged, pressing a hand to his lips in a shushing gesture. “It’s 2 AM! We don’t need to wake up the rest of the house about with your screaming about the death of four teenage girls,” she hissed, trying to rein in her amusement.

“Mmmff mmmph mppff,” he protested, his words muffled yet animated.

She finally removed her hand, and he took a deep breath, clearly still caught up in the heat of the moment. “We have to watch the second movie,” he insisted, eyes wide with eagerness.

“There’s no second movie,” she replied, bending down to gather the scattered popcorn he had sent flying in his fervour.

“But there are so many unanswered questions. Like, why did they do it?” His frustration was palpable, a crease forming between his brows.

She regarded him with a look as if to say "bitch be so serious".

“The whole movie answered that question,” she replied, exasperation in her tone.

He sat back, stunned, still reeling from the emotional impact of the film, especially the shocking fate of the four blondes. The gravity of the ending lingered, and she could see the gears turning in his mind, struggling to process the story’s conclusion.

“Don’t think too hard. Wouldn’t want that pretty head of yours to fry,” she teases, her tone light and playful.

"Sofia Coppola is fucked," he declares, his voice brimming with enthusiasm as he leaps onto the bed, the mattress softly bouncing beneath him.

Leaning in, she whispers conspiratorially, "But that's what makes her so brilliant."

In a sudden burst of energy, he turns and pounces on top of her, catching her completely off guard. She gasps, a surprised squeal escaping her lips, which quickly dissolves into laughter as she instinctively tries to push him off.

"Megumi, get off! You're so heavy!" she exclaims, her tone a mix of playful annoyance and genuine struggle.

"Nahh," he replies, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He finds amusement in her attempts to squirm free, relishing the playful dynamic between them.

Straddling her and pinning her hands to the bed, the atmosphere crackles with tension and unspoken possibilities. His laughter fills the room, finding entertainment in her weak attempt at an escape.

“Come on, Yn, you can do better than that,” he quips, raising an eyebrow and flashing a teasing smirk.

She squirms beneath him, laughter mixing with playful frustration as she tries to wriggle free. After a moment, he gives in, unstraddling her and lying down beside her.

They find themselves in the same relaxed position as earlier in the night, but now the air is thick with an unspoken tension that draws them closer together. Her phone buzzes on the nightstand, disrupting the moment. She glances at the screen, and the unsaved contact tells her everything she needs to know. With a resigned roll of her eyes, she tosses her phone to the floor, irritation flashing across her face.

“Who was that?” he asks, his curiosity evident.

“Scam text,” she replies tersely, her tone clipped as she attempts to brush off the interruption. The moment lingers, heavy with what’s left unsaid, both of them acutely aware of the shift in their dynamic.

A minute of silence envelops them, thick with unspoken thoughts. She feels the warmth radiating off him, a heat that heightens the already-charged atmosphere.

Finally, he breaks the stillness. “We have a gig on Saturday if you want to come.”

“Do you want me to come?” she asks, turning her head to meet his gaze. He remains focused on the ceiling, lost in thought.

“I don’t mind. The offer’s there. I can get you free entry if you do, and there’s also—”

Before he can finish, she reaches up, capturing his face in her hands and turning it toward her. Their eyes lock, and he’s struck by the intensity in hers.

“Yeah, but do you want me to come?” she presses, her voice steady but tinged with an underlying vulnerability.

He sees the anticipation sparkling in her eyes, a mixture of hope and expectation hanging in the air between them. Two responses linger on the tip of his tongue, but instead of articulating them, he chooses neither. He closes the distance between them, his lips crashing onto hers with a sudden, fervent urgency. The kiss is intoxicating, filled with everything left unsaid, igniting the moment into something deeper. Something that the pair refuse to say out loud.

Good answer.

extras!

• partygirls do NOT keep secrets in the house so she immediately told them where she was (and also apologised to nobara)

• yn drives illegally LOL (too many dui’s + she does not actually have a license)

• megumi actually live pretty close to her otherwise she definitely would have caught the train

• megumi was NOT nonchalant this chapter…

• NO SLUT SHAMING IN THIS CHAPTER!! WE ARE MAKING PROGRESS CHAT

• playground love got added to megumis playlist immediately after the movie (he shazammed it)

• they both watched little women and then barbie after

• megumi had to excuse himself to go the bathroom bc he was lowkey abt to cry at the ending of little women (he’s so me)

• letterboxxd reviews!!

• panda has recently been binge watching the talk tuah podcast and now comments the same thing under everyones tweet (theyre sick of him) (his favourite episode is the one with jojo siwa by far)

• sukuna stalker era? (he has our location set on indefinitely yn just forgot to turn it off for him)

• aw hes just looking out for us #protectiveboyfie #bias

a/n: SORRY FOR THE DELAY LAST WEEK WAS SO CRAZY I COULDNT MEET THE DEADLINE!!!! next chapter out in a couple of hours but after that posting will be back on regular times🙂‍↕️

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novemberheart · 6 months ago

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{overview} You bond with both your alphas— the topic of your heat comes up again

{warnings} fem reader, poly141, a/b/o dynamics, cursing, backstories, things get a bit heated between you and John

Chapter 20 <- Chapter 21 -> Chapter 22

“You went out for what?” John huffed, sitting across from Kyle.

“A walk, sir,” Kyle replied, his eyes straight ahead. He had already mentally prepared for this.

“And you come back with”- he trailed off.

“A puppy, sir,” Kyle was trying to bite back a smile. It wasn't that he wasn't afraid of the captain- he was. It was the image of your happy face in his brain that was causing the battle in his mind. The truth was he wasn't sorry, he would get yelled at every day if it meant you being happy. John groaned, recognizing the dazed look in his beta eyes. He must still have happy omega clouding his brain.

“Dismissed,” he groaned again, leaning back in his seat.

“Love you, Cap,” Kyle shouted over his shoulder bolting down the hall towards the small backyard.

Your puppy- Vernie (for Inverness) as she had been renamed, wasn't blind. She did appear to be deaf, though.

Simon insisted she was just stubborn like you.

“You two kind of look alike,” Johnny smirked, waving his finger in front of the puppy’s snapping mouth. You giggled, scooping the excited pup off the floor. She licked your chin, nuzzling her way against your neck.

“It's the eyes,” Simon commented. Johnny and Kyle nodded in agreement, and each of their camera rolls filled with enough pictures of your puppy dog eyes to prove it.

“Well I take that as a compliment,” you grinned, setting her back down. “Go to Daddy Kyle,” you urged.

“How come he's daddy?” Johnny shot.

“I was with her when we got her,” Kyle reminded, picking the golden retriever puppy up. “When we see Uncle Johnny we what?” Kyle whispered to her. “We growl, that's right! Good dog,” he praised.

You giggled making your way back inside for a bowl of water. You bit your lip as you noticed John sitting at the dining table, deep in thought. You crept over, your hand resting on his shoulder.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted, grabbing a hold of your hand and kissing your palm.

“You're not too mad, are you?” you pressed. He pulled you over so you were sitting in front of him, guiding you so you were sitting on his leg.

“You happy?” he hummed. You quickly nodded your head, your hands resting on his broad shoulders. “Then no,” he smiled just enough to where his dimples poked through. You grinned, resting yourself against his chest. “Wish it was more of a group decision, but”- he cut himself off.

“The next time I get a pet I'll make sure to run it by everyone,” you smirked. You jumped when a hand collided with your bottom. It wasn't hard, but it definitely caught you off guard. He chuckled at you.

“Only goldfish from now on, yes?”

“Yes, sir,”

“Come on pup,” you jumped at Simon’s voice. He had the tendency to just appear out of nowhere. Years are training you suppose.

“Where are we going?” you questioned pulling your shoes on.

“Errands,” he responded coldly.

“Could you be any more vague, Simon?” you questioned.

“Maybe.” he replied, causing you to chuckle. As the two of you walked down the street a sudden craving formed in your head. An urge to test the waters. Your hand reached up, gripping onto his forearm as you walked. He made no move to brush you off, actually his body shifted closer, so your arm didn't have to extend so far.

It was weird seeing him outside without his mask. He blended in with the crowd even with his hulking frame.

He led you into a shoe store.

“Simon you don't need to do this,” you began, your chest growing warm.

“I want to,” he pressed.

“Thank you,” you beamed. He rolled his eyes at you, patting you on the hip.

“I'll stay here,” he groaned, sitting down on one of the try on benches. “You stay where I can see you. You're still on parole,” he grumbled. You giggled, heading towards an aisle.

You ended up with four pairs. A pair of dress shoes, a pair of workout shoes, a pair of casual shoes, and rain boots because Simon was tired of the entryway smelling like “wet feet” every time it rained. “Thank you, Simon,” it was around the tenth time you had thanked him, but it was important for him to know how much you appreciated it. He carried the large bag for you and you were surprised when he began walking even further away from the house. “I need lunch after that,” he sighed. Your stomach growled in response. You two ended up in a Chinese restaurant, the smell drawing you in from a few streets over.

“Do you ever miss Manchester?” you asked between bites.

“You ever miss the toilet when you leave?” he shot back. You rolled your eyes at him.

“Was it really that bad?”

“No.” he agreed. “Reminds me of my father though,” he conversed. You suddenly felt favored to be a part of this conversation. Simon Riley was opening up.

“I take it that's a bad thing,” you urged. He nodded his head.

“Piece of shite that one. He was a beta, my mom was an alpha. Spent the rest of his days trying to prove he was the strongest,” Simon shared.

“Did they both pass away?”

“He died from cancer. She lived just fine for another five years. Passed away from untreated pneumonia.”

“That's terrible Simon,” you breathed. “She sounds like a strong woman. I mean she has to be, her son is strong,” you affirmed. You wouldn't be able to tell by looking at him but your words had hit him, deep. It's all he wanted. To be half as good of an alpha as she was. She was strong, loyal, protective, and loving to those who were hers. John reminded him of her in a lot of ways.

“She was, pup,” Simon finally responded. “She’d like you,” he added softly. You blinked back some tears, shifting in your seat. “What about your father?” he asked suddenly.

“He and my mother were both betas, both of them coming from a long line of alpha-omega pairings. We were kind of the odd ones out of the family. It didn't matter much to us though. We were all close, especially with me being the only child,” you paused, your lunch suddenly looking unappealing.

“It was a shock when your mom left?”

You swallowed, nodding your head.

“She came into my bedroom that night and just held me. I'm not sure when she left. My dad was so angry. I didn't know what to do, so I just curled up in her closet with the clothes she had left behind. My dad moved on quickly- I feel like it was just out of spite,” you sneered.

“What was she like?”

“She wasn't horrible. She just wasn't my mom. I never really talked to her honestly. I just couldn't wrap my head around seeing her stuff where my mom's stuff used to be. Her curling iron on the bathroom counter, her silverware in the drawer, her couch in the living room- her pictures on the wall. The worst part was she had five kids from a previous relationship. I had to share a room with three of them. I started having a hard time breathing. I even passed out a few times. My grandparents decided to step in and suggested I get put into an omega-holding house. By then, I was so desperate to get away I begged my father to let me go. I think that hurt him more than he ever let on. I lived in that omega house for a year until I was transferred across the country to a different one. I haven't seen any of them since,” you finished. You looked away from your plate. Simon had his arms crossed over the table, his eyes intently on you.

He hated it. Hated the way you had been left in the dirt. You didn't deserve that.

“That's not fair, sweetheart,” he said softly. The tears finally escaped, his thumb reaching out to brush them away before you could.

“It's alright,” you tried to smile, sniffling into your sleeve. He understood you more. He realized the parts of you that drove him crazy were the parts that so deeply resembled himself. You were still in fight or flight mode. Still waiting for the moment you would have to take off into the wind. Still waiting for the moment you would be peeled away from this pack like your old one. He wished he understood it sooner, but he's not sure it would've had such an impact on him.

He was no longer in fight or flight mode, his mind dead set on one: fight. Fight for you to feel safe within this pack- within your pack.

You were a bit nervous to sleep in the same room as both the alphas. At first, you tried to sneak your way into the beta’s room, but John quickly hoisted you over his shoulder, tossing you on the bed. The scent was slightly overwhelming, turning your bones to mush. Simon was still in the shower, and you were curled up on John’s chest, his hands running up and down your thighs.

The conversation you had with Simon was still weighing on your mind. It must've spread into your scent.

“What's eatin’ at you, love?” John hummed, his hands giving your thighs a squeeze.

“Me and Simon were talking about our old packs. It just brought up some feelings,” you mumbled, taking a large inhale of his scent. It settled at the base of your neck, causing a warm buzz throughout your body. “What was your pack like?” you questioned, resting your chin against his chest.

“It was big,” he sighed, his tired blue eyes dancing over your face. “Too big. Lots of power struggles between alphas.”

“That why you left?”

“Partly. My family was pushed around a lot, my father is a good man, but he isn’t strong. I hoped joining the military would make it so that when I went back I could prove our family was strong,” he sighed. You knew what John was talking about.

“Communal pack?”

He nodded his head. Communal packs were very traditional and rarely worked. There could be up to thirty different families living together under the jurisdiction of one alpha.

“What was your alpha like?”

“I never met him,” John chuckled. “He seemed decent enough, though. It was hard for the other alphas of the pack, you know how they are, have to be the toughest in the room. My family still lives there, two of my sisters have bonded and have pups of their own. My brother is still causin’ trouble,” he chuckled fondly and your heart ached for him.

“Do you ever miss it?”

“I miss them. We still see each other a few times a year. My eldest sister and I see each other the most. Her work brings her near base. And I have to call my mother at least once a week or she’ll march up here and give me what for,” he smirked, making you giggle. “I'd like you to meet them someday.”

“I would love to!” you cheered beaming up at him.

“They’ll love you. Probably want us to move back up there.”

“Are any of them omegas?” you pondered.

“My brother is. My eldest sister is an alpha and my two others are betas,” he explained.

“That's a nice spread,” you smiled, stretching out on top of him. You wondered what John was like as a child. Was he always so headstrong? Protective? Determined? Troublemaker? The thought made you chuckle.

“Would you? Move back there?”

“Never. It's just like base, except there are fewer rules and regulations. Not the place for you or the rest of us,” he explained. “Where would you want to live?” he hummed, rolling onto his side, keeping a firm grip on you.

“Somewhere with trees and rain. I want to be near the mountains. I also want to live near a big city so there's always something to do. Oh, and I want a big backyard with chickens and a pool,” you smiled, your fingers smoothing over his beard. His cheeks lifted in a smile.

“Sounds doable,” he whispered, pressing a kiss against your cheek. He let your noses brush, smiling at the way you're crinkled. He closed the gap, his strong arms holding you in place as your lips moved together.

They all kissed so differently. Johnny was all-consuming, his ability to make the thoughts in your head vanish never fails. Even his short ones were eager and overwhelming. Kyle was playful. Lots of teeth and tongue, but never enough to fully satiate you until you yank him as close as you can. Maybe that's why he does it. He wants you to want him. Lucky for him you fall into that trap regularly. John’s were melting. Slow and passionate. He isn’t playful or eager. All of his attention is on you and the rest of the world just fades away.

You wondered how Simon kisses.

John’s hands were messing with the bottom of your sleep shorts. They crept up slowly, giving your bottom a gentle squeeze causing you to gasp. He chuckled against you, his tongue taking advantage.

Maybe he was a little playful.

You had to get him back. You thought back to the little trick Kyle showed you. Your hands bunched around his lower back, and you rolled your hips against his. He cursed against you, pressing you deeper into the mattress.

“Careful what you wish for, honey” he warned, biting at your neck. You whined, tilting your head back even further. The subtle act of submission making his head reel. He kissed and bit his way around your neck until he made it near your collarbone. You became breathless at the knowledge of what he was doing. He was trying to find the best place to mark you. He could tell he found it when you nearly moaned. Just above your collarbone right in the junction of your neck. “That where you want it, pretty girl?” he murmured. You nodded your head rapidly.

“Now, please Alpha,” you begged. If he was a weaker man he would've given in. Your shaky voice, heated skin and needy scent in the air were all suffocating his senses. You're lucky he's had so much training or else you would be howling in pain right now.

“No, pretty,” he soothed, placing another kiss against the spot- a promise that he would be back. “Can't do it now, it'll hurt,” he reminded

“You marked Kyle and Johnny,” you reminded. Betas couldn't have heats or ruts, so when they were marked it was searing.

“They were under anesthetics,” he shot back. Even you couldn't argue with that. The bathroom door opened.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Simon grunted waving the air in front of his face. You giggled, cuddling your way into John’s chest again.

“Simon took me on a date today,” you whispered to John. He raised his eyebrows, playing along.

“Must've been a different one,” he smirked, looking up at the brooding alpha.

“No, it was this one. He was a perfect gentleman. He opened the door for me, he let me hold his arm, he paid for my lunch and he even bought me new shoes,” you grinned, looking back at the flushed Simon.

“Sounds like a great bloke. Should call him back,” Simon replied, getting under the covers. You and John chuckled, as he shut the lamp on the bedside table off.

“He is great,” you whispered absentmindedly, a yawn escaping you. “I do appreciate the two of you, you know. There aren't a lot of alphas that would be as patient and forgiving as the two of you,” you thanked. John’s chest rumbled at the sentiment.

“Of course, honey,” John rumbled. Simon stayed silent. He didn't quite feel he deserved such praise. He had made too many mistakes. He jumped as a cold hand rested against his bicep. You could be sneaky when you wanted to. You made no move to pull him closer or grab another part of him. He sighed grabbing your hand in his, clamping your hand within his own, resting it against the bed.

The sound of your purrs lulled him to sleep.

You woke up to the sound of groggy groans and chuckles. You could feel yourself moving until your face was pressed against a bare chest. Cinnamon.

“Mac,” you groaned. You felt someone else’s smile against your shoulder and the tickle of Johnny’s scruff against your cheek. You opened your eyes, pulling away from Johnny.

“Good morning, peaches,” he purred all too happy for this early in the morning. Your face pulled into a frown making him and John chuckle from their spot. He pressed a kiss against your lips as you sat up, your legs on either side of his hip. He groaned, his hand instantly finding your hips. You were in the middle, Johnny resting against John. Kyle was back to back with Simon, who looked to still be asleep. You yawned rubbing at your eyes.

“We were thinking we could all go to breakfast,” Kyle spoke, nudging the alpha next to him awake. One thing you learned about the boys is that none of them were into cooking. John seemed to be decent at it- well at least he was good at cooking steaks. Kyle survived off of cereal and Johnny could kill a box of granola bars in a day.

“French toast,” you sighed happily, flopping back down onto the Scot. While the plans had been made no one made an effort to move. It was all too comfortable. Too warm. You purred, causing almost all of them to follow suit. Simon clenched his jaw, swallowing back the rumble in his chest.

You giggled, Johnny's chest vibrating against your skin.

“I'll fall back asleep if I stay here,” Kyle yawned, maneuvering his way out the bed. Simon tumbled out of it too, his arms stretching above his head. His tank top did nothing to hide his flexing muscles. Johnny pulled away, regretfully, heading back down the hall to his room. The chill in the air nipped at you, causing you to cuddle your way back against John.

“We’re going to get in trouble if we don't start getting ready,” he hummed gently, his hand running down your back.

“I’m getting up,” you assured, making no move to do so. He patted your bottom, sitting up with you still in his arms.

“French toast,” he reminded, pulling you to your feet. You perked up.

“John?”

“Yes, love.”

“When we get back can I talk to you about something?” you questioned. You regretted it as soon as you watched his face turn. You hated it when people did that. Just say what you are thinking.

“Tell me now, love. I’ll go with you to the backyard,” he said, watching as you grabbed the half-asleep puppy out of the bed Johnny had made her.

“Alright,” you agreed, treading down the hallway. He grabbed a cigar on the way, making sure to sit downwind from you so you would breathe it in.

“It's about my heat,” you started. “I want you to help me through it,” you flushed heavily, your face burning so hot the nip in the air couldn't cool it. “I don't know if I'm ready for everyone to help though,” you drew out. He chuckled next to you causing your head to shoot up. God, you have embarrassed yourself haven't you?

“Sorry, honey,” he apologized quickly. “That would be like throwin’ a lamb to the wolves. Wouldn't expect you to do all that,” he assured, making your shoulders relax. His hand reached out his fingers brushing against your cheek. “It would be my honor to help you, sweetheart,” he whispered, making you burn brighter.

“That’s a stretch,” you chuckled. Honor? Surely he had done much more honorable things than take your virginity.

“It's not. It means you trust me. That's all I want, love,” he smiled reassuringly in a way that made your heart beat a bit faster.

“Thanks, John,” you pressed a kiss against his cheek, collecting the curious pup off the grass.

Hello everyone! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Chapter 22 will be in two days and I’m going to warn you now it WILL have heavy smut……hopefully none of you are against that! See you then 🧡

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pullupinarari · 1 month ago

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The Secret of Us [LH]

II. The Flame of Us

summary: a 5 chapter miniseries in which Lewis chooses you to coordinate one of his new projects, but the instant spark flicking between the two of you makes the professional lines grow a little blurry. do the both of you feel the same?

author’s note: the very much awaited chapter two is finally here! i'm not allowed to have any more horny hours after this one istg 😭 thank you girls for all the support you showed me on the first chapter of this plot that I love so much! hope you enjoy this 🩷

warnings: yall this is a big ass smut with very little plot ngl 😭 MINORS DNI!! p in v, protected AND unprotected sex cause i'm crazy, some hair pulling and a lot of filthiness. let me know if i'm missing something!

• masterlist

wc: 10 171 - English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated

After Lewis’ invitation, you are left confused, divided between a ‘yes’ or a ‘no’, your hands softly trembling as your brain tries to process his words.

Standing in the middle of your office, with your desk working as a wall between your bodies, your eyes are connected to his, while you’re both trying to read each other.

Lewis’ hand is tightening around the arm rest of your chair, an attempt to hold himself up so his knees won’t buckle at the suspense you’re creating, the silence diving in between your bodies being enough for his blood to rush with anxiety.

Please, Y/N. Don’t leave me here like this. I don’t know how much longer I can take it. I need an answer.

It’s like the four walls surrounding you are getting smaller and tighter as the minutes go by, making it harder for you to breathe while you continue thinking about his offer. A dinner out, with your company’s most important client, behind your boss’ back? It seems like the perfect plan to get you fired, honestly - and you’re not in the mood to lose your job, right now.

Your brain keeps telling you to decline his invitation, to please say no, for yours and everyone else’s sake. Don’t create a problem where everything is peaceful and nice. You like your job, your boss isn’t that bad, you have a good position at the company, and if nothing is going wrong, why would you actively try to find a fire to burn yourself in?

On the other hand, your heart - that stubborn little organ that always likes to play hard to get, but that somehow, has softened up so much at the sight of Lewis and the little moments you’ve shared - it’s the responsible one for all the doubts clouding in your mind, for the warmth erupting through your chest every time his name pops on your phone screen. And it’s the one telling you to accept it, to have dinner with the man in front of you, to enjoy some more alone time with him out of the cage that your office currently represents when you’re together.

Each emotion has a different weight on your shoulders, making you feel almost incapable of making a decision. You have given your all to this company, during the years that you’ve been working here - you have worked many extra hours, more than you were supposed to, even taking a series of work projects home, to finish in the middle of the night, losing all sleep so you could change projects overnight, just because the clients decided so.

And still, having met so many different people, no one has ever made you feel the way that Lewis does. No matter how wrong this might look, it definitely doesn’t feel wrong inside of you whenever he gets close to you, whenever you hug, when he leans over your chair so you can notice his perfume. And maybe you need to put yourself first for once, instead of continuously giving your all to your work and career. Where does your love life stand in the middle of all this, in the end?

Taking a deep breath, you finally decide to break the uncomfortable silence that felt enough to drown your bodies.

Fuck it. He’s right, it’s been time already. Give yourself a try, Y/N. - you think to yourself.

- I guess you win, Lewis. And I really do like Italian food. - a smile is attached to your words, feeling the weight of your choice already, scared of what can happen, but still confident about your decision.

Suddenly, the world stopped for Lewis, feeling that the most subtle glimpse of happiness has spread across his entire body, lifting away all the worries and anxious thoughts that were consuming him lately.

You said yes. You accepted his invitation, he is officially going to take you on a date. The man can’t even believe the words that just left your mouth, letting the widest of smiles finally show up in his face, as he leaves his place from behind your desk, walking over to meet your figure again.

- Are you being serious? - he whispers, almost afraid of breaking the bright bubble that you got him into, right now. His fingers are careful when reaching for your face, gently caressing your cheek, making you blush while you nod your head ‘yes’ at him. - Yeah? - he confirms again, earning another nod from you, laced with a loving giggle escaping your lips as he keeps insisting.

- Italian it is, then. Saturday night? I’ll pick you up - Lewis tells you, his chocolate eyes melting into yours as he continuously gets lost in them, leaving him to fight the urge to taste your lips while he’s still caressing your skin. - I guess we got ourselves a deal, Hamilton - you smile at him, defying the tone by calling him by his last name instead of the first, as you usually did. And somehow, the way you refer to him always makes his eyes darken a little more, his heart feeling hot in his chest, making him gulp, desperate to restrain himself from showing you how badly he wants you.

Instead, he just nods at you, with a different sparkle covering his eyes now, a fulfilled smile on the man’s features - already wishing for time to pass by faster, eager to see you outside the four walls of your office.

Inside of your minds, it feels like Saturday takes a while to arrive. Both yearning for the day to finally be here so you could go out together, getting to know the versions of the other that are forced to be kept away when you’re surrounded by a professional environment.

The weekend finally comes, and while some shy rays of sun are trying to wake you up, the ping on your phone, indicating that you just received a new message, it’s what really pulls you out of your slumber.

Lewis’ name pops on the screen, and there’s a tingling feeling growing in your belly already, a blush spreading on your cheeks, as if it’s the first time that he texts you.

‘Good morning, Y/N. I know we’re out of office hours, but I had to email you some important info from the suppliers, about the new pieces we were planning on doing. Please take a look if you can. By the way, wear something fancy tonight. I can’t wait to see you - I already know you’ll look stunning.’ - the text reads, and it amazes you how this man has the ability to make your face burn, stealing a giggle from you even with just a message.

Sighing softly, you reply back with a simple ‘got it. I’ll check the email asap’ - ignoring his compliment, not wanting to give into his ego that much already. Working on some tasks you had to get done for work, time passed by a little faster, until it’s almost time to get ready for your date with Lewis.

It’s almost impossible not to feel nervous, and that goes to the both of you. While your heart is racing in your chest, your hands softly trembling when you zip the dress you had chosen for tonight, Lewis is still diving inside his closet. The man who is constantly seen in public events, always causing different reactions with his outfits, is now feeling the pressure to look his absolute best, just for your eyes to see - the most important ones for him.

At 8 pm sharp, your doorbell rings - just as you had agreed. Applying some perfume, you gather your jacket and purse, taking a deep breath before opening the front door of your house.

Once you do, your eyes fall on Lewis - sharing an anxious smile with you, while slowly eyeing your figure from top to bottom, his gaze burning you already, as he needs to refrain from biting his lip at the sight in front of him.

If he could have it his way, he would forget all about the dinner reservation that he prepared for the two of you, dying to just dive into your lips, tasting your flavour, finally allowing his hands to freely roam through your silhouette.

But tonight is about more than just that, it’s about the opportunity to get to know more of you, the secret sides of your personality that you can’t show him during office hours, so the man forces himself to take a deep breath, regaining his senses and trying not to drool at the sight of you - something that he has been forced to do in every single meeting with you, as well.

- Absolutely stunning, as always, Miss Y/N - the man finally speaks, reaching for your hand to kiss your knuckles like a true gentleman.

His silliness always makes a smile appear in your features, mentally cursing yourself as you feel your cheeks growing red already. Oh boy, you already know this is going to be a long night.

- You don’t look too bad yourself, Sir Hamilton - there you go again, playing with his mind with the damn ‘Sir’ title, that always seems to fall from your lips in the most sultry way that Lewis has ever heard.

Both of your insides are already catching fire just at the strong presence of your auras colliding, trying to meet once and for all, only to be interrupted by your will to keep your composures, not letting the little devils on your shoulders to win just yet.

Opening his arm just a little so you can intertwine your arm with his, the man shows you a wink.

- Ready to go? The restaurant awaits for your gracious presence - both of you laugh in unison at Lewis’ words, who’s slowly feeling some of the anxiety leaving his body for good, growing confident and comfortable the more he makes you laugh with his jokes.

You knew that the man would bring his up game tonight, but you never expected to have an entire balcony just for yourselves, allowing your eyes to admire the best view of the entire city, while having dinner at one of the most prestigious Italian restaurants in London.

Your job allows you to live a comfortable life, to travel around the world, to eat at some of the best restaurants there are, but that’s not the most important part of life for you. And tonight, it’s like you don’t even know how to act.

Sitting at your table, you look around, noticing every detail of your surroundings. The small, romantic candles that are strategically positioned on the table and throughout the entire space you’re staying in.

Lewis sees your eyes wandering around the balcony, admiring the place he booked for the two of you. However, he feels like he’s losing you, craving your attention already, wanting to feel your eyes on him again. So, his fingers gently travel through the table, meeting yours in a soft, deliberate movement.

Grounding you for a second, bringing you back to reality, to the person in front of you, he finally catches your gaze, giving you a soft smile as his fingers keep touching yours, a small gesture that you are soon to reciprocate, feeling how warm his skin feels when compared to yours, how the night seems to grow quiet while you’re focused in the other’s touch.

- Hey, you - Lewis says, his tone low and soft, almost slow, as if his brain is trying to decipher the best way to kick off this evening. - Hey - you giggle softly, feeling shy when compared to the magnitude of the space surrounding you. - There was no need for all this, Lewis. I would’ve been just as happy to have McDonald’s inside your car, parked somewhere where we could see the sunset. - you say, truthfully, feeling slightly out of place at all the fanciness surrounding you.

You are a simple girl, above all. And Lewis knows it. Throughout these last weeks, he learned how you don’t really care about fame, power, and fancy restaurants. He learned that you would rather have breakfast at your favorite small bakery, next to your house, instead of having a breakfast typical of five star hotels. How the scones he would bring you, would absolutely make your entire day when you were stressed, desperate to go home and find one of your books, cooking your favorite meal just to make you feel a bit more sane.

He knows that you would be fine with a nice pasta or even just a pizza, better even if you would ask for it in takeaway, eating it with your pajamas on, while watching your favorite show in his company. And that’s one of the infinite things that he loves about you already. But tonight is a special night for the two of you, so he decided to do something different - realizing that you really deserve something as special as you are, in his eyes.

- I know - he giggles at your idea. - Maybe we can do that on our next date, how about that?

The tips of your fingers are still intertwining, moving to caress the other’s skin from time to time, even when the waiter puts the dishes in front of you two. It’s a comfortable, small touch, that carries all the meaning of how badly you don’t want to let go of one another.

- Already thinking about a second date, Hamilton? You don’t even know if you’ll survive this one, yet - you joke, an eyebrow raised at him in a provocative tone, smirking at the way he loses his composure at your wittiness.

You might be joking, but Lewis knows that you’re right. He feels himself on the verge of losing his sanity just by the way your hands are connected, he needs to force his brain to stay in this moment, and refusing to picture where this night might take you two, feeling like he could run out of air if he gets to feel more than just your hand in his.

- You’re right, Miss. But I plan on making it out alive, I plan on both of us enjoying tonight as much as possible without killing each other in the process. And maybe we can repeat these sorts of events, no? Amongst other things… - he cracks a bit, feeling his cheeks growing a bit warmer as well, trying to disguise it with a sip on his cup of wine.

You might repeat it, if tonight feels worth the second part to everything that’s playing in your mind so far. It’s like your fingers are tingling to get Lewis out of the jacket that’s safely covering his tattoos, his toned chest, the strong arms that you just picture wrapped around you, while his plump lips are attached to your neck - making a devilish grin appear in your face the more you pay attention to your thoughts while looking at the man in front of you.

The way you two get along so well, as if you’ve been friends for years, amazes you. How the conversation seems to flow so effortlessly, laughs, giggles and blushing cheeks erupting between your figures, making the night seem warmer, cozier, away from all the pressure that once was felt in the pit of your stomachs.

It’s like the world outside doesn’t exist. As if you don’t have to worry about your work duties, about you and Lewis being business partners, your brain not even thinking about your boss and how he would completely lose his mind if he found out that you and Lewis Hamilton are out on a date, on this Saturday night. Tonight, none of that matters to you.

As time passes by, the touches between your frames start longing for more, the tips of your digits touching, slowly become completely intertwined fingers, trying to feed yourselves off the small crumbs of warmth you can get from the other, when the table insists on distancing your bodies.

Once you two had finished your dishes, Lewis decides to get up, stretching his hand for you to take, carefully welcoming your body closer to his, finally savouring your proximity without a table in between your figures.

There’s not an ounce of shyness pooling in your body anymore, not after feeling so comfortable around the man in front of you - so, you take the first step, gluing your shape to his, until he is wrapping his arms around you, your hands gently caressing his chest through his buttoned up shirt.

Your eyes don’t leave each other’s features, even with the most breathtaking view of London in front of you - Lewis is everything you want to look at, engraving all his details in you, in the same way he keeps focusing all his attention in you, an enamoured smile splattered all over his face, his hands softly rubbing your back, as if you are the most precious thing he has ever touched.

- This view is gorgeous - he says, smiling even wider when the sparkle in your gaze matches his. - It sure is - you agree, making the man lose it a bit more as he feels the intensity growing between your shadows, to the point of becoming absolutely unbearable.

There they are: the butterflies, flying from your stomach into the air, surrounding you and Lewis, creating an invisible string that just seems to pull your bodies together more and more, as if that was possible - wishing you could melt your skin into his, at this point.

One of the man’s hands leaves your back, finding its place on your cheek, putting a strand of hair behind your ear, giving him more access to your details, carefully touching you, seeing the way you’re suppressing a smile out of embarrassment.

Burning in desire for each other, you both reach for the other’s lips, almost at the same time, finally giving in to all the building tension on your bodies, that just continued growing for weeks on end.

With Lewis’ hand safely cupping your face, one of your hands reaches for the man’s neck, both of you holding the other as close as humanly possible, your lips finally savouring each other - getting to taste the sweet cherry that both of you have been craving for so long, dreaming of it to the point of almost driving you insane.

And now, it’s definitely driving you wild. Your tongues finally meet, clashing together as you explore the other’s mouth, the adventure feeling so new yet so familiar, as if you had known each other’s body for so long, from daydreaming about this moment so much.

The world completely stopped now. Everything went silent, and it’s just you and Lewis living this fiery moment between your souls, sharing all the emotions and sensations travelling through your bodies with one another.

Neither of you wants to break the kiss, insisting on remaining connected, even if you’re running out of breath - searching for oxygen in the other, breathing each other’s warmth and passion.

But once you’re forced to distance your mouths, desperate to catch some air, your lips still long on his skin, caressing his cheek lovingly, as your foreheads remain glued, your noses touching, maintaining the typical eye contact that you two are used to already.

There’s a moment of silence, but neither of you needs to say anything: your bodies, your connection speaks for yourselves, and the infatuated smiles on both your faces aligns with the soft eyes, caring touches as you try to come even closer to each other, Lewis reaching out to hold you safely in his arms again.

It definitely doesn’t feel real. After dreaming about it for so many weeks, it finally happened - your lips finally met, in an ardent, burning reunion that held all the desperation travelling between your bodies since the first time you saw each other, after all the times where your mouths threatened to kiss on their own will.

Lewis is in awe, completely in love with you, without a doubt that you are everything that he wants, everything he needs, giving him all the feelings he wants to keep close to his heart, sensing the way they make his heart beat faster, the type of adrenaline that he only finds when he’s near you.

Without enough words to describe this moment, the man reaches to catch your lips in his again, giving you another long kiss, showing you how badly he wanted this to happen, how many times he pictured this moment, and how perfect it is in reality, way better than any dream he could have while being alone in between the sheets of his cold bed.

- Your lips are sweeter than any scone we could have at your office - he jokes, after pecking your lips a few more times.

This is the type of intimacy that you never had with anyone else in your life - the type of connection that you can feel in your soul, reaching the darkest corners of your insides, not leaving one single part of you unnoticed, seeing you in your entirety.

Breaking the tension between your bodies, you feel yourself relaxing as you wrap your arms around his neck now, allowing a chuckle to escape your lips as you roll your eyes playfully at his words.

- You’re such a prick - you complement his inside joke, seeing the way he feels comfortable to laugh out loud now, feeling his shoulders shake under your touch, his giggles being enough to make flowers erupt inside of you, leading to new butterflies to appear. - Yeah, but you seem to like it quite a lot - he whispers teasingly, capturing your lips in his again, in a sloppy yet hungry kiss, trying his best to hold all the impatience running through him at the anticipation of having more of you.

But he can only do so much, so Lewis’ hands slowly travel down your waist, testing the waters at the way you react when he reaches for your bum, gently rubbing it while you are one who looks for his mouth now, growing needier for him just as much. He smirks into the kiss, hearing the almost unnoticeable little hums that you let out as his hands continue touching your backside, grabbing your ass hungrily as he deepens the kiss again - showing you how he can’t wait to get out of here.

However, he still has some remarks to make. Admiring the figure in front of him, his eyes land on the navy blue dress that you carefully choose for tonight, one that hugs your body perfectly, leaving very little to his imagination, but one that desperately leaves him wanting more and more from this date.

- You look divine in this dress, darlin’ - he says sweetly, with a hint of seductiveness in his tone, while his hands are still dedicated to your ass, through the fabric of your outfit.

You know, that’s why you picked it for this date. You were sure that it would drive Lewis mad, and you can’t control the knowing smirk that shows up on your features when he compliments you. And finally, you decide to play your last card:

- What if I told you that I only chose it so you could take it off? - you seductively whisper in his ear, reaching to bite his ear lobe, chanting victory in your head as you notice the way he physically reacts to your words: gulping, his hands tighten the hold on your bum, unable to hold himself back from landing a cheeky little slap on your left ass cheek, before growing serious and asking you “what are we waiting for, then?”

With fire in your eyes, you leave the restaurant, hand in hand with the man whose perfume keeps igniting a burning desire inside of you, making it almost impossible for you to keep track of everything that’s happening around you.

The atmosphere between you two could set everything ablaze inside the car, as you steal glances at each other’s features, silly smiles showing from time to time, mixed with soft, teasing giggles that can be heard from time to time - while you notice the way Lewis is gripping the steering wheel harder, the more your hand insists on travelling through his leg, your lips ghosting on the skin of his neck, making him desperately loosen up the tie that was keeping his outfit and composure all together.

It feels like the car ride back to his place is taking forever, especially in his mind, having you teasing him during the entire time, exploding with anticipation as he finally gets to park his car inside the garage.

The sync you two share could be felt from miles away, so you are both fast to leave the car, your bodies meeting again as Lewis holds you closer to him one more time, your lips hungry for the other’s, almost as if you can’t breathe without the air he brings to your lungs, anymore.

When his hand snakes around your neck, bringing your face closer so he can deepen the kiss, it’s like everything else stops, existing in this moment just the two of you, in a deserted world that’s just inhabited by the two hungry souls inside of your bodies.

Sloppily walking to the door, the man can barely pick the right key, struggling to leave your lips untouched, untasted by his own, longing to be close to you as soon as he needs to break the kiss, even for just a second.

Closing the door behind you, it’s like both of you can feel the weight of all the invisible ties that were once holding you down, leaving your figures. Finally, in between four safe walls that allow the two of you to do everything you want, without any pressure, masks, disguises, having the freedom to be honest with yourselves, with your dreams, needs and desires.

With your back pressed against the door, your mouths connect again, the passion emanating from your lips, so strongly that it can be felt through each goosebump showing in your skin, your touch making electricity running in Lewis’ veins.

Growing impatient, the man picks you up, his toned arms holding your shape like it’s nothing, his mouth exploring down the skin of your neck while you’re sighing lightly, biting your own lip when realizing how lucky you got tonight.

His jacket falls to the floor just before he starts carrying you to his room, your fingers playing with the tie that’s still loosely hanging around his neck, smirking at him, both anticipating the following moments.

Once your feet feel the floor again, you pull him by the tie, connecting your bodies as your fingers start to untie the buttons of his shirt, reading him between the fire mirroring his gaze on you.

He’s enticed by you, by your touch, by the way you seem to make the most powerful wave crash in his body, soul, while seeming to calm him down at the same time, your soft skin soothing all his nerves, wanting to feel more of you, delving himself in the depths of everything you are, everything that you mean to him.

Once his upper body is in full display for you, your eyes take a second to admire the sight, your hand shamelessly reaching to feel his muscles, to travel between every crevice of his abs, holding yourself to his biceps as if you are on the verge of losing your balance, due to his presence.

Reaching for you, his hands land on your hips, taking a moment to appreciate you, your beauty, your intensity, the fact that you are, finally, here with him. The tip of his nose nudges yours gently, making a smile appear in both of your faces, and the sparkle in his eyes is noticeable as he shares a loving gaze with you.

Connecting your lips once more, he quickly distances your mouth, dedicating himself to the skin of your neck, using all his endless time on you, not wanting to rush this moment, wanting to properly taste you, savour the sweetness of your skin, warming himself through you, sharing the connection that’s bonding you together.

You lean your head back slowly, silently giving him more access to your skin, humming and whining quietly when he finds your sweet spot - your soft sounds giving him the hint, that he happily takes, committing some more minutes to the places that make your back arch, the warmth of his tongue being enough to make you spiral just by feeling him licking the favourite places of your skin.

His left hand is carefully cupping your face, moving your neck gently as he switches the places he wants to focus on, while his right one is still safely holding your hip, keeping you in place so he can explore your collarbone, landing open mouth, wet yet soft, sweet kisses everywhere he can reach - your shoulder, the part of your chest that your cleavage allows his lips to reach.

Your hands softly touch his muscles, noticing how they seem to tense the more he grows desperate to get you out of your dress, ready to destroy the barrier that the fabric keeps representing between your bodies, craving to see you in your entirety, anxious to show you just how badly he wants you, needs you.

Finally, his hands roam your back, reaching for the zip of your dress, slowly undoing it in a matter of seconds - looking at the excited expression in your face that you can’t seem to hide.

Tonight is all about you, for him. He wants to make the most of it, for both of you, hoping he will be able to show you everything you make him feel, how you hold the power to make his heart pump blood faster into his veins, making him weak at the knees everything your hand touches his.

As his hands slowly slide the dress down your body, his lips follow the movement, landing countless amounts of the softest kisses he possibly can give to the bits of skin that he’s slowly unveiling for his eyes, his fingers feeling every curve of your shape that soon comes into full display for the man.

You feel the warmth of his mouth in between your breasts, down your stomach, one of your hands reaching for his braids, caressing his scalp as he continues dedicated to your skin, to the point of getting on his knees once the dress completely falls to the floor.

He looks up at you, his big, chocolate, sweet eyes focused on your face, trading glances as he continues to land kisses on your upper thigh, your hip, his fingers caressing your legs, feeling addicted to how soft you feel to the touch, how your perfume seems to make him feel even more obsessed with you.

Getting up and undoing his pants, letting them fall to the floor as well, he finally meets your body without barriers, your figures gluing to each other again as soon as your mouths touch again, your hands diving in the other’s shape, discovering every corner of the body that you both have been dreaming about incessantly.

His touch is absolutely lethal. Neck kisser, hips grabber, travelling through your body with just a one way ticket - not planning on coming back after touching heaven with his bare hands.

No heels, no dress, you’re just in your skin, just like Lewis, having the thin fabric of your underwear separating your cores, but feeling how ready he is for you when he finally lays you on the bed, softly grazing his bulge on your center, groaning in between the fight that your tongues keep enduring - opening your legs wider for the man that’s still trying to refrain from moving too much, wanting to enjoy each second of having you all to himself.

Still, you probably feel even more impatient than him, eager to finally get what you came here for, so your nails softly graze the skin on his back, reaching for the band of his boxers, letting him know how badly you want to feel him.

- Eager, aren’t we? - he jokes lightly, his teeth biting your bottom lip gently, hearing the needy whines erupting from your body as you give him puppy eyes. - As if you don’t want me just as much, Sir - fuck, maybe you should stop playing with his head. But maybe you are way too determined to end this night with a victory, desperate to feel him, all the details of his body, wanting to forget about life and all the problems clouding your mind for a moment, while he is making you moan out of pleasure.

He chuckles slightly at your provocation, ready to completely lose control, so he can finally show you how you have been playing with fire all this time - more than prepared for his flames to connect with yours, burning you two together as you allow your figures to be consumed by the insatiable blaze of pleasure erupting between you.

But if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get. Lewis wants to give you everything you ask him for, willing to run around the entire world to grant all your wishes - just so he can reciprocate the immense feelings and sensations that you create on his body and mind.

And if he was feeling a bit nervous in the early evening, right before dinner, now the heat running through his veins makes him feel like he’s being completely electrified by your silhouette, your gaze, your touch - and oh girl, you have no idea what you’re in for, tonight.

His hand lazily travels down your body, reaching for your panties, his fingers teasingly playing with the band, while his lips finally wrap around one of your nipples, his tongue caressing it until goosebumps are dressing your skin again.

Your sounds are soft, sweet - traveling to Lewis’ mind, making him feel even weaker than he already is, wanting nothing more than to continue to listen to your moans and whines throughout the entire night.

Ignoring the band of your underwear, he decides to give in to your pleas - but just a little bit, as his digits slowly start to rub you through the fabric that’s still covering your core. And still, you feel your entire body being set on fire, by the pressure that he strategically applies when reaching your bundle of nerves, his lips still sucking on your right nipple as if the man’s life depends on it.

His fingers feel how wet you are by now, how ready you are to take him - all of him, wanting his body to possess yours, to cloud your mind until you even forget about your own name. The thoughts travelling through his mind, mixed with the sensations of your wetness, your fingers slightly pulling on his braids, your whines, begging him to touch you more, to give you more, to finally give his all to you, are enough to drive him absolutely wild.

Lewis is naturally a dominant man, so the more you open your legs for him, your own fingers trying to grab the band of your panties, desperate to get rid of them, he is the one holding your wrists gently, taking your breath away with another kiss to your lips - while his hands finally reach for your underwear, ripping the fabric apart so you don’t even have to worry about sliding them down your legs.

His action makes a smirk appear in your face, wrapping your lips around his tongue, sucking it lightly as your hand pulls his face even closer to yours - silently letting him know how you like it rough, how you had waited long enough for this moment, how you’re done with the teasing, your fingers reaching for the shape of his hard dick in his boxers, reminding him how he needs to get rid of those, as well.

Grunting in your mouth, he gets the hint, using all his strength to abandon your figure on the mattress, feeling his skin growing colder as he finally gets up, moving to grab a condom from the bedside table, sharing a teasing, intense gaze with you as his own underwear leaves his body, now.

His dick looks painfully hard, making drool form in your mouth at the sight, seeing how his hand safely wraps around his member, hissing as he touches himself lightly. Biting his lip, his eyes never leave yours, both losing your minds at a distance, showing just how needy you two are feeling for your bodies to finally merge together.

Putting on the condom, Lewis meets you on the bed again with a different side of him showing, now. He wants you, all of you, and he wants to give you everything you wish for this moment, forgetting about the hours, the fact that tomorrow will arrive either way - focusing only on this night with you, putting to the side all the different thoughts about an entire life with you, for once.

He collects some of your wetness with his tip for some seconds, your foreheads touching as your eyes speak for yourselves, your lips savouring the other’s as he gently pushed himself inside of you.

Both breathing out the air that you were holding in out of anticipation, Lewis’ arms wrap around your figure, bear hugging you so he can feel you closer, while you’re wrapping your legs tighter around the man’s waist.

Giving you a moment to adjust to his size, his lips are quick to adorn your entire face with kisses, wanting to make it as pleasurable and easy for you as possible, in need to feel your body melting with his, so you can feel as carefree as you can.

With your lips meeting again, the makeout session between your bodies grows hotter and needier, letting him know that he can move, that he desperately needs to move, as your arms snake around his neck, touching his hair, nails grazing on the skin of his shoulders.

Feeling your warmth and sliding into your wetness is enough for Lewis to let out the hungry man inside of him escape. Starting off slow, he really wants to take his time with you, but the more you groan in his ear, pulling on his braids, the more he feels you are growing needier for more action, more friction, encouraging him to move until sparks are flying from your frames.

Focusing on the feeling of his hard dick pressing your walls, to the point of making you see stars, you beg him for more, definitely not wanting him to take it slow with you, not wanting to feel like you are making love in this night that reeks of desperate sex, made to solutionate the heat erupting from the both of you, nothing else.

The more Lewis picks up his pace, the more your sounds grow audible, echoing through the four walls surrounding your bodies, his mouth attached to the sweetest spot on your neck - licking it, sucking on it until purple bruises are showing up on your skin, making him smirk to himself at the sight, the closest he will ever be to mark you as his.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as he fucks you rougher, feeling the way his cock keeps hitting your favourite spot, your moans mixing with the sound of your skin clapping, your hips meeting as you try to move your waist, taking him the best you can.

Pumping pleasure into your veins, Lewis can’t hold back his own whines and groans, feeling your nails scratching their way down his back, your walls wrapping around him tightly, driving the man absolutely insane as he hides his face in the crook of your neck - only for you to pull him by the braids, connecting your lips in a hot kiss again, your tongues playing with each other until saliva is dripping down your chins.

It’s hot, sensual, needy, loud, rough, and you don’t know how much more you can take, feeling a bubble slowly growing in the pit of your stomach, as he keeps hitting your g-spot effortlessly, making sure you won’t forget about tonight.

In the middle of his rough, accelerated thrusts, he still takes some time to kiss your cheeks softly, to compliment you, letting you know how good you feel, how you are taking him so well - words that you don’t pay enough attention to reply to.

You feel yourself on the verge of hitting your climax, growing desperate at the way he keeps moving inside of you - fast, rough, desperate, almost writing his name on your skin, as his lips keep sucking bruises on your chest, his hands travelling through your figure sensually.

Even if your mind is turning blank already, your pussy throbbing and clenching around his dick, you still try to use all your strength to cut it off, to distance his body from yours, noticing how Lewis immediately stops his movements once he feels your hands on his chest, slightly pushing him away - leaving him with furrowed eyebrows, a confused look on his face.

- Did I do something wrong? - he immediately asks, only to be shushed with your index finger touching his lips.

A sultry smirk is covering your features, taking control of the situation now, as you roll Lewis’ body over, so he can lay on his back. Kissing his entire chest, that’s moving up and down as the man tries to catch his breath, you soon find the path back to his mouth, licking his lips softly, only to be met with his hunger once again - his tongue meeting yours halfway.

He’s enticed by your actions, curious to see what move you’ll put out now, and your movements definitely surprise him.

Your hand reaches for his dick, wiggling your eyebrows at him once you slowly start to remove the condom from his member - seeing how his eyes widen, his voice calling your name softly yet sternly, trying to catch your attention, so you won’t do it.

Shushing his troubled mind with another kiss, you let him know that it’s okay, that you have everything under control - winking at the man in front of you, your fingers working to finally release his cock from the condom wrapped around it.

Now, you are in control, and you feel the most powerful ever when you move to straddle Lewis - only to see him biting his lip again at the view, his hands travelling up and down your sides, stopping at your boobs so he can pay some attention to them, massaging them until he feels you melting at his touch again.

But the melting doesn’t last long. You were so close to your orgasm, but this isn’t how you want tonight to end - in a bear hug, kissing Lewis as you reach your highs, acting like a couple all along. You. Are. Not. Making. Love.

Turning your back to him, you work your magic, moving so you can slowly connect with him again, sinking down on his dick in a reverse cowgirl moment. You can’t see it, but Lewis is biting his lip again at the sight of your ass in full display for him, feeling his hands touching your ass cheeks before you start moving.

But this isn’t your first rodeo, and Lewis needs to understand that. Leaning your body so you can hold yourself to his ankles, you start moving your hips up and down, in a seesaw movement that has the man whimpering under your figure in minutes.

Feeling each other raw only makes your bodies feel hotter, his member diving in your ocean, feeling each inch of your wetness dripping down his shaft the more you bounce on him, sensing how incredibly warm and tight you are for him - leaving him to hold your hips strongly as he admires your silhouette getting all the pleasure from his body, as the man meets your movements, thrusting up inside your needy cunt, harder and faster by the minute.

On the other hand, you don’t know how you are keeping it together, being left completely speechless at the way Lewis manages to fuck you so good from this new angle you just found, making stars cloud your brain, not being able to say anything besides the filthy, loud moans leaving your throat right now, as you feel every vein of his hard dick moving in your walls, so fast and rough that you know that he is engraving every detail of his dick inside of your pussy, at this point.

But this is what you wanted all along, and you can’t hide the victorious smile on your face - that you are happy that Lewis can’t see, right now. Your brain keeps cheering at the way you seem to have him wrapped around your finger, having him doing everything you want, allowing you to use him for your pleasure - something that you plan on keeping up.

For you, this isn’t making love, for Lewis, it’s exactly the opposite: if love is fire, you definitely have a lot of flame - especially to set him alight. And that’s how, minutes later, you are whining at the way the tip of his dick purposely hits your g-spot again, feeling so full of his cock that you never want him to stop, this sensation to end, feeding all your dreams and wildest fantasies with him, now.

You beg him not to stop, and the man’s hand travels up your spine, making you shiver, only for his fingers to intertwine with your hair, making you arch your back in his direction, his other hand on your hip, almost trying to hold you in place as you continuously sink on his cock, drenching him with your juices as you feel the bubble in your stomach almost bursting.

- Touch yourself, baby girl. You wanted me to be rough? Here you go. Now do as I say - his thick, hoarse voice says, entering your ears and travelling through your veins almost with immediate control over your movements, hearing him moan as he notices your hand snaking between your legs.

Your fingers feel your wetness as soon as you reach for your clit, touching yourself in a way that you know so well now, feeling so familiar yet so new as you try to focus on your movements while Lewis’ dick is still buried deep inside of you, not letting you stop for a second.

Still, you circle your fingers around your pearl, rubbing the juices that are dripping out of your cunt on it, your digits almost escaping your favourite spot to touch at how wet you are, now.

Your loud moans suddenly disappear, leaving you with just small, needy whimpers to escape from time to time as you focus on your pleasure, on touching yourself as your body starts clenching again, your muscles growing stiff as you can see your release so close already, chasing it the more you rub your clit, as if your life depends on it.

With a final, deep thrust coming from him, you final hit your high, hearing Lewis moaning behind you as he continues buried inside of your pulsing cunt, emptying inside of you - just how you wanted, exactly how you begged him to do some seconds ago, feeling his cock twitching in between your walls, the more he milks his seed inside of you.

Regaining your breaths, soon you’re leaving your place on top of him, realizing how his arms are already open, waiting for you to join him. The sight makes a genuine smile appear in your face, lying your head in his chest as you both sigh, your body focusing on the way his arms immediately wrap around your figure, his lips kissing your sweaty forehead, his gentle eyes looking at you as if you are the purest thing he has ever seen - even after all the filthiness that filled this room for the last hour or so.

The space surrounding you two is comfortable, almost as if it was meant to be, leaving very little space for words, both of you focusing on the other’s gentle touch instead, and the way you just made each other feel. And the soft warmth erupting from his shape is enough to put you to sleep in minutes, especially after feeling your body so tired and sore from the latest activities that took place in today’s agenda.

Waking up to soft kisses landing on your forehead, some fingers gently playing with your hair, you open your eyes to an adorable Lewis, who's looking down at you with a loving smile plastered all over his face, whispering a soft ‘morning, darlin’ to you.

Last night exceeded all his expectations. To him, it was way more than just sex - it was the common share of the connection that makes your bodies merge into one, taking each other to heaven and back in a matter of minutes, leaving him to feel some butterflies tingling in his stomach just as he reminds himself of how it feels to kiss your sweet lips, how his hands seem to belong glued to your silhouette, travelling through your body during sex, and rubbing your back softly, playing with your hair right after, so he can make you feel loved and desired.

He has been awake for a while now, admiring your peaceful figure while his mind came up with ideas to surprise you. The man wanted to get up, go to your favourite bakery to grab the infamous scones you always share, and maybe even pick some flowers on the way home, so he could see your shy smile on your sleepy features, like he has been dreaming about for so long.

But, the way you looked so beautiful, so safe and protected to rest on his chest, made him give in to his plans, forgetting about pastries and flowers, acting selfish one more time so he could enjoy every second of having you nestled in him, feeling you so close to the point of even thinking about tattooing your moles in his veins.

Smiling back at him, your lips connect for the first time this morning, making sparkles appear one more time - something that you would pray it wouldn’t happen again. But, shrugging it off, your hand caresses his cheek softly, as you take a deep breath before lying further more into his chest, wanting to feel him closer too.

Last night was incredible - of course it was. Lewis touched you in ways that no other guy ever did, changing your perspective of desire, neediness, showing how a man acts if he really wants you.

You know you are not the one for him, you could never be. To be honest, you just wanted to be one of his girls, even for one night, so you could kill the fire erupting between your bodies, finally getting a taste of each other.

But, as you wake up, the feeling of cuddling him, of being safely wrapped in his eyes, makes your heart shift a little more.

- Never thought you were the cuddle type - you break the silence, a curious smile on your face as you notice his eyebrows furrowing almost in a comical manner. - Oh, baby girl, there’s a lot of things that you don’t know about me yet - he chuckles, kissing your temple as his words make you stare at the horizon for a second. - Yet? - you can’t stop your mouth, the question escaping your lips before you could even process it.

But instead of considering your reaction weird, he just gives you an honest smile before replying.

- Uhum. I plan on seeing you again, and again, and again - he states confidently, landing a soft kiss on your lips in between each repeated word, sealing his promise.

Leaving your lips, his mouth is slowly starting to travel down your body again, his eyes shining as he looks up at you while he kisses your chest, moving to the skin of your stomach in seconds.

As much as you want this, there’s a bitter voice in the back of your head, taking you out of the transe that Lewis’ touch always gets you in, forcing you to interrupt his loving actions.

- You know we shouldn’t do this - you say insecurely, your voice small when compared to the way he makes you feel so powerful and important to him.

He is fast to stop his actions, moving his body to be by your side again, noticing how your eyes look big and even somewhat scared in your face. He knows what’s in your mind: if your boss finds out about any of this, your job will be on the line, and you don’t want to flush your career down the drain because of a man.

Still, he tries to lighten up the mood, nudging the tip of his nose with yours gently, until he sees a small smile threatening to appear on the corners of your lips.

- Shouldn’t we? This feels pretty right to me - he says, kissing your lips with a light aura surrounding him, almost as if he can send some of that tranquility to you. - But we are business partners, Lewis… - you try to argue, only to be met with a rejecting look on his face, shaking his head ‘no’ at what you’re trying to imply. - Stop. - I’m not doing anything - you try to reason with him, only for him to wrap his arms tighter around your figure, nestling you in his chest again. - You’re trying to find excuses for what we did. Stop. Nobody cares if we’re business partners, please stop thinking about how your boss won’t be happy if he finds out about us. This happened because we both want each other - he says, in between sultry kisses to your lips.

And just like that, he shushes away all your fears, wrapping you in a soft, easy bubble of love. Soon enough, his arms are picking you up from the bed in bridal style, walking over to the bathroom so you two can have a shower.

It’s weird, but soothing - the way he makes you feel, how you two are so comfortable around each other, even while being naked without having sex, seeing how he hugs you from behind as the water dripping on your skins warms both of your bodies.

- Thank god it’s sunday and I get to have you all to myself - he says in your ear, kissing your shoulder softly, never wanting to let go of you.

Yeah, thank god for the F1 breaks and weekends without work, that help you relax in the comfort of Lewis’ arms, almost making you believe that you could get used to this on a daily basis.

The shower is filled with laughs, gentle touches, loving kisses, lots of music playing in the background, making you forget about how this man almost drove you to insanity due to the way he touched your body last night - definitely leaving marks on your figure that will forbid you from forgetting about him for some days.

Still, his touch is as soft as ever when he’s rubbing your back, your belly, your legs, insisting on kissing your features nonstop, voicing out loud how you’re the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen, making you blush while you try to cover your pink cheeks from him.

- I’m going to go get dressed, baby. Take your time, okay? I don’t want you to rush - Lewis informs you, pecking your lips once more before leaving the shower, with a different plan in mind.

You stay there for a bit more, hoping the warm water can help you soothe the sore sensation in between your legs - and also leaving you with some time alone to think about everything that happened, and how the pet name he just used made a tingling sensation erupt through your entire body. Maybe you like this, maybe you could really get used to this, to see him more, to have more soft moments by his side, besides the sex scenes that you still envision to have with him.

Putting on a tracksuit, Lewis leaves his house for some minutes, trying to make his plan work now. Rushing, the man goes to the closest bakery, buying some scones, cookies, croissants and a bit of everything that he can see on display, really - not knowing if you are craving something different for breakfast today.

The man wanted to stick to his initial plan, but the line at the bakery was longer than he expected, and he starts growing scared that you might have left the shower already. So, on the way back home, he picks a small flower from one of his neighbours’ neatly kept vase.

Stepping out of the shower, you call Lewis’ name, only to be met with silence. Walking around the house, you find it weird that it’s empty, you being the only soul inside of the space right now. There’s a hint of disappointment hitting your heart right now, you can’t lie. You don’t know why he left, why he would leave you alone at his own place, but maybe this is just a sign that you can’t get used to this on a daily basis.

“It was a fun night, and that’s all it was” - you think to yourself, moving to put your dress from last night back on, a frown on your face as you gather your belongings, getting ready to leave this house as well.

As you are searching for your purse in the living room, not knowing where you put it in the middle of all the events that took place last night, the front door swings open, startling you as you are met with Lewis’ figure again.

His eyes grow a bit when he sees you in your dress again, his eyebrows furrowing before speaking.

- Are you leaving, love? - he asks quietly, almost as if the thought of spending the day away from you is making him sad already. - Well, you left as well, so I thought it was a hint for me to go - you try to explain, stuttering a bit at how nervous his presence is making you feel again, and you can’t quite figure out why.

Surprised by your words, he walks over to you.

- A hint? Baby, I went to get us breakfast! - he shows you the bag from the bakery. - Got us scones, of course, some croissants, cookies, and a bunch of other things because I didn’t know what you wanted - now it’s his turn to give you a nervous smile, handing you the small purple flower that he picked for you. - And this is for you.

How does he have this incessant power in himself to soften up your stone cold heart so much? To the point of almost feeling small tears tingling in your eyes, forcing you to push them away as you take the flower from his hand, smiling like a teenager, feeling the damn crimson painting your cheeks one more time.

His fingers caress your cheek lovingly, almost afraid of seeing you run away if he gets too close. But still, he lets his feelings show, doing what his heart keeps begging him to do.

- Please don’t go, baby. We don’t have much time just to ourselves outside your office, and today it’s sunday… Unless you don’t want to spend the day with me and you really want to leave, of course - he is rambling, his eyes looking into yours, reading you as another smile erupts from your face, taking action to kiss his lips. - I was really craving a croissant and a coffee - you joke, noticing the relieved sigh that escapes his body, sharing another enamoured smile with you. - Choose a t-shirt from my closet, love. I’ll set the table.

It’s been a while since you’ve had such a nice, carefree, light sunday, feeling safe enough to be wrapped in someone’s arms as you share scones and kisses, cuddling up on the sofa while watching silly movies and sharing funny life stories in the middle of it.

And in between all the worries that show up from time to time, there’s still something that erupts inside of you - something stronger than all the intrusive thoughts that might try to ruin your moments with Lewis. Something that shows you how much you enjoy the time spent by his side, in a way that you never thought you would.

It even leaves you to believe that, in a parallel world, if things maintain this level of intensity between you two, you might even allow yourself to open up a little more to the man that’s right in front of you - cooking dinner as he shamelessly dances and sings to his playlist, making the most genuines smiles erupt from your figure, ones that you definitely hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

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