#christmas feels even thought it’s march | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

whosjunglejim4322 · 1 year ago

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Reconcile- E.M (S)

Smut!, fluff because uhm how could I not, angst! cause you guys are pent up from stress and this is basically a make up sex fic teehee, mentions of weed, brief arguing, Y’all just desperate and gross, Eddie fucks you till you cry and talks you through it like the slut he is, he cums inside of you, makes sure to fuck all that attitude away, PUSSY EATING, very graphic descriptions of passionate n nasty intercourse

You hadn’t foreseen this happening.

Sure, you and Ed’s have gotten into little disputes before. Petty, insignificant quarrels about whether or not the other person actually took out the garbage or who would pay next date night. Two years is still short to some, for you and Eddie it felt like forever and yesterday all in the same universe. Heavenly, and mundane.

But this is a different beast all together. This morning makes day two that you two have had this weird, suffocating energy between both of you. The antagonist of this situation, is undoubtedly the conversation that was had at Steve’s weekend hangout.

A few hits from a joint, a shot or two of tequila and goofy sentences being passed around between two best friends. You and Robin being the spectators, content in your own little bubble, puffing on a spliff of your own. Heavy, fluffy blankets kept you warm, gave you weight to lean on when your head began to feel like it might float away.

The Christmas lights and the hum of the deep freezer in the corner of Steve’s basement almost distracted you completely in your haze, until it didn’t. Until Chrissy Cunningham came up. Until it was an innocent giggling fit about whether or not Chrissy ever had a crush on Eddie, the oxymoron in and of itself.

“Imagine that ever happening,” Steve chuckled, lightheartedly, taking a sip of his Diet Pepsi. “can’t say I can’t see it. She wanted you for sure, dude.”

Your ears twitched. Eyes thinning into inquisitive slits. Nothing about Steve’s tone was meant to be rude, or disrespectful, but the nature of the comment itself felt awkward and uncomfortable underneath your skin.

You almost turned your attention back to the Walkman blasting David Bowie. Almost.

“I saw her the other day, she came in for an oil change. Honestly, I never would’ve even thought she wanted me,” Eddie takes another rip of his bong. “But then she asked me if I do at home visits. Said she wanted to catch up with me.”

Maybe your reptilian brain overreacted. Or, maybe it didn’t. Honestly, you don’t blame yourself completely for the way you reacted after that statement. Nothing else he said after that mattered. All you could hear was your heartbeat in your own ears. Loud, thunderous

“I told her I wouldn’t do that, obviously.”

White noise.

And not only were you intoxicated, but you were already burnt out from work and school, touch starved from not having any time with your boyfriend as of late. A period of your current reality that you know will pass as all things do in life; but it was too much. This hangout was supposed to be somewhat intimate, something for you to both do together. A simplicity that normally wouldn’t even have to be mentioned. You and Eddie exist on the same axis.

The blanket became too heavy and the smoke in the room threatened to choke you further. You all but threw the fluffy cover off of you and stormed out. You heard Robin call after you, and Eddie. A pair of voices that meshed together like the drum line in a song that is so in sync with the guitar chorus that you can barely decipher it. The steps spin, but you manage to stay upright.

Cold November air chilled your face, your neck. You too a deep breath in while marching to the van parked just a few feet away on the newly slabbed pavement of Steve’s home. His parents are at their lake house so often that Steve claims their Hawkins residence as his own.

Predictably, a heavy thump of boots followed closely behind you. The scrape of worn soles and the squeak of an old leather jacket. A billow of smoke follows him, clings onto him like jasmine and rosemary to the freshly bathed. Your back felt like the warning signs at a crossroad. He felt helpless.

“Baby, hey,” he sounded breathless, desperate and confused. He’s never seen you so upset that you’d just walk out unprompted. “stop walking god dammit, please.”

You stopped reluctantly, the tears of frustration in your waterline blurring your vision of the violet, cloudless skyline. A wide, warm palm touched your shoulder and the heat seared you even through your hoodie. You flinched away instinctively, sore in your limbs from your own concoction of emotions. When you met his eyes, they were wide. Like a deer staring down the barrel of a gun in its own home.

Your face must have been something to see. A scowl, a mirror of sadness reflected in his umber eyes. Angry. He’d never seen you look at him that way. It felt like having his intestines twisted between two cold hands.

“You didn’t tell me that happened.”

You stated it plainly, but spitefully in nature. Your voice cracked and it made a brewing tear spill over your waterline and down the plump of your cheek. He had the overwhelming urge to comfort you, but knew he couldn’t. Knew you would likely flinch away like you did five seconds ago and he didn’t think he would physically be able to bear you trying to get away from him again.

He didn’t exactly know what was making you so upset. The conversation wasn’t anything he wouldn’t have said in front of you, which is why all of it was said in front of you. Perhaps his own intoxication made it hard to fully understand the velocity of his words, what they meant and how they could’ve been interpreted from your point of view.

“I didn’t think it was important.” His thick brows scrunched and deepened the wrinkle between them. You looked like your eyes might bulge out of your head.

You nearly choked on your own spit, the words to your reply getting caught square in the middle of your throat; and so you said nothing. You stepped forward, and then past him. And he realized too late that you were walking away from him.

“I’m gonna ask Steve to take me home.”

He was too stunned to speak. To react. To stop you, to plead for you to tell him what he did wrong. Or at least how to fix it. He felt himself crumble on the inside, like his bones were made of ash.

When he got back to the trailer that night, you weren’t there. And that’s when it all really set in. That he fucked up. For the past two weeks you’ve been here with him, playing house while Wayne caught a gig further up north. He thought, he thought that when you said home, maybe you meant here. With him.

He called that night, almost ten times. You answered on the eighth.

“I’m at my apartment Ed’s, I’m fine. I don’t want to argue, or talk. I just need to be by myself right now.”

He felt paralyzed by the pang in his chest. More so, he felt angry. Genuinely angry, and not just at himself, but selfishly, at you.

“Fine, glad you’re safe.”

He nearly broke the fucking landline.

Your eyes have to adjust to the brightness of your living room. Well, your bedroom, slash living room, slash kitchen. A studio in Hawkins is relatively affordable, but they aren’t lying when they say it’s a studio. The events from yesterday scream in your head instantly, along with the pounding of your pulse. Your bed is almost unfamiliar at this point, the blankets not worn enough, the sheets the scent of fresh dryer sheets instead of you and Eddie’s shared scent.

The beeping of your answering machine pulls you back down to reality, though not one you want to participate in currently. Unfortunately, you have no other choice.

They’re all from Eddie of course, and now that you’re not high you feel those wounds from the night before coming back, sticking you in the chest, ribs, liver. Along with the pain, you feel guilty. For your less than mature reaction. Though you know you can’t blame yourself, not having ever been in that situation. You’re human and reacted as so. But he’s your Eddie.

You listen to the last message, sent twenty five minutes ago.

“I’m coming over in thirty minutes, I don’t care if you don’t want to see me. We are going to talk this out. I love you.”

You huff in frustration, though you can’t say you aren’t relieved. Relieved that he’s coming, that he’s not giving up over some quarrel about Chrissy Cunningham. You have a tendency to think the entire world is caving in around you upon one minor inconvenience. This disruption in your daily routine feels like Armageddon.

You have time to brush your teeth and rinse the remaining paste off of your mouth before your front door opens. If you didn’t recognize his footsteps so well, it might be off putting to have someone just waltz into your home.

The bathroom door is open, so he spots you immediately, slipping off his worn in boots and placing them beside the door. He takes his leather jacket off and puts it over the stool that sits at your kitchen island. It makes your face hot, still. The ease in which you two have melded into each others lives. Even if you’re angry at him.

“I don’t know what to say, Ed’s.” It’s a lie. You walk past him to the kitchen and open the fridge, hiding from his gaze as you pretend to search for something. He clears his throat and you reluctantly close the refrigerator door, staring at the floor and backing yourself against the sink.

“I just - you’ve never left. Without telling me. Or talking to me. And, fuck I-“ he’s stammering already, taking steady breaths and pinching the bridge of his nose. “I didn’t think I had to tell you about an insignificant interaction with Chrissy Cunningham.”

You scoff, although it’s more of a giggle. And he looks at you like you’ve just lost your mind. Rare, for Eddie Munson to think someone else has lost their mind.

“Well you and Steve sure seemed to enjoy talking about it. You both were pretty giddy discussing whether or not Chrissy wanted to, or, sorry -“ you’re being defensive. Rude. You can’t help it. “wants to fuck you. Why would I want to hear about that? Why would I want to hear you guys talk about whether or not you both can see you and Chrissy together? Does that not sound incredibly fucked up, Ed’s?”

So much for not talking. Now it’s spilling out like a cracked flower vase. Your chest is heaving rapidly, face and body hot with anger. Your arms are crossed across your chest, a protection against whatever it is he might say, despite the fact that you’re the one who’s being rhetorical.

He shoves his ringed fingers into his hair, scratching his scalp and pulling lightly at the roots as he closes his eyes, contemplating. Seeing things through your eyes, attempting to. He winces.

“That’s not what we were trying to say,” he bites his cheek. “I mean I know it doesn’t matter what we were trying to say, the conversation shouldn’t have happened, but I can’t take it back. For fucks sake.”

He’s murmuring to himself, rubbing his rough palms over his tired face. He’s wearing one of your favorite tee shirts of his to steal. Iron Maiden. The sleeves are short enough to reveal the splattering of ink that crawls up his biceps. When his muscles move underneath his skin, the ink moves with them. It’s captured your attention suddenly, and now you’re raking your eyes over his entire figure.

Familiar black sweats cling onto his lower half. They fit perfectly on his lithe waist, loose on the rest. Except for his ass. He has a really cute ass. And these sweats specifically accentuate the shape before billowing down his thighs.

“Baby? You with me?”

The low timbre of his voice shakes you from your reverie. You’ve simmered off, the anger replaced with a different heat. It’s been too long since the two of you have just been together, this fight might be the most communication you’ve had in the past week due to your jobs, and school. Or the worries of the world, the overwhelming need to sleep when you aren’t working, to work when you aren’t sleeping.

You’ve forgotten about each other. Briefly, but not inevitably. Never that. You feel like you may collapse.

“I’m- yeah I’m with you.”

You let out a sigh, uncrossing your arms. You look and sound as defeated as you feel. He can’t pretend to not have noticed your silky, thin sleeping gown, but he is just a man. And your nipples are hard underneath the garment and he has never not thought you’re one of the most beautiful creatures he’s ever seen. You haven’t worn it in a while, preferring his clothes to sleep in since you’ve been staying with him. He missed seeing you like this.

He steps closer. Tentatively, afraid you might run away from him. You sense his hesitancy and a piece of your heart breaks, the piece where he lives. You meet his eyes, silently inviting him, glancing from his mouth then back up to his softening gaze. You watch his Adam’s Apple bob in his throat.

“I’m sorry.” He says, earnestly. His hands threaten to tremble when you reach out and grab them, heavy in your own. He hovers above you the closer he gets, your limbs connecting in a symbiotic way. One you feel the others skin, you can’t get away from it. Not until you’re pressed together, belly to belly, your chin tilted upward.

“You - ugh.” You can’t get words out anymore. They dissolve in your larynx and your head falls, the need to cry or scream or kiss him an overwhelming choice.

“I know baby, I know. I’m sorry.” He pats down your hair, rough thumbs caressing the softness of your cheeks. He pulls your face upwards again, staring down at you with regret, adoration, hunger.

“I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have just left.”

He leans closer, till you smell the coffee on his breath and the hazelnut creamer alike. Your noses bump and rub against the other, his thick eyelashes fanning across his own cheekbones - casting a fluttery shadow.

“It’s okay now. We’re okay now.” He says it softly, just between the little space left between you two. “Let me take care of it. Please.” He closes the gap.

Some people assume it’s not supposed to feel as good as it does, kissing someone who’s lips you’ve mapped out like an atlas. That couldn’t be further from the truth, because kissing Eddie feels like being consumed.

And not just metaphorically, because it’s evident in the nips to your bottom lip, the sucking of your tongue whenever he feels it lick his teeth; that your small period of separation, and longer period of not having indulged each other, has weighed heavily on him as well. He’s starving.

You’re overtaken within seconds by the veracity of his mouth, your fingers taking purchase in the curls at his crown. Smacks and kisses and wet noises fill the small space, and the center of your stomach swells with a simmering heat. A reminder of how neglectful you both have been. Your nipples harden against him, as his dick twitches between his legs.

You feel nervous. Tentative. Excited.

His hands implore you like a new discovery, grasping at your back, and then down the sensitive slopes of your sides and over the plushness of your hips. Through the silky nightgown the sensation is riveting, enough to drive a person insane. You arch against him, and a whimper escapes your mouth into his throat.

“Mmm, mhm.” He groans.

“Eddie,” it’s a cry, wanton sound that makes him rut himself against you instinctively. Anything to relieve you. Anything to relieve himself. “baby.”

He smiles against your mouth, pecking it a few times before departing only for a second to see your kiss bitten lips, his and your spit coating your mouth. Your blown out pupils. He mirrors your appearance, like a wild creature.

“Never again,” his index fingers knuckle strokes the inside of your thigh, and you shudder, holding onto his broad shoulders for an anchor. You separate your legs without thinking. “we will never go through this again. I’m gonna make sure of it.”

Three knuckles stroke your pubic mound, then down your covered slit where dampness threatens to leak. Your fingernails grip his shirt, eyebrows furrowed and lips parted in anticipation. He’s so warm, so palpable. You want him to bury himself inside of you.

He’s in front of you, and then he’s not. You blink, and hair tickles your thighs like you’re frolicking through an overgrown field. Strong, rough hands lift the delicate silk of your nightie until it’s being bunched between ringed fingers above your navel. He’s on his knees, devout for you.

You gasp when his tongue broadens against your center. Your panties are just enough barrier to make you wanna cry out in desperation, while also offering enough sensation to not dare stop for even a moment to pull them off. You’re at his mercy. Or is he at yours? Neither of you know anymore, and it’s not important.

Not when he gets a taste of you. Not when he peers up at you between lust sodden lashes and sees you looking down at him like you’re about to crumble. Your knees shake and he bunches the nightie in one fist instead of two, placing his free hand on the back of your thighs to steady you while he soaks your underwear with the spit from his tongue.

The shape of your slit and the plump lips around it begins to show its phantom form through the material from the soaking. He sucks, prods with the tip of his wet muscle.

“Ed’s, fuck.” Your voice is so weak. His cock weeps in his sweats, dribbling with copious amounts of precum. It’s torturous to not touch himself but he’s too focused on watching you, pleasing you. You hums against your mound, mocking you.

He pulls the elastic to the side, not patient enough to take them off all the way. You get to see his face for a split second, cherry red cheeks and a messy halo of hair and stubble on his chin. And then, you feel it.

His nose keeps your lips separated, his tongue already splayed against the soft, sensitive flesh between them. You’re slick and sticky and coating the lower half of his face, though you have trouble grasping onto the helms of reality when he’s licking your pussy like this. He shakes his head from side to side, tongue still flat until he’s spreading your thighs farther, so that he can lick your honey from the source.

“Hold it.” He mumbles, struggling to hand the falling material of your night gown to your shaking hands, though you get the memo when it threatens to cover his head completely. You use one hand to hold it, and the other to tug at his hair.

You can barely hear anything another than the sloppy wetness of his mouth working on you, and the sound of your own heartbeat, but you’re sure you’re whining. You can feel the rawness of your throat as you let your head fall back and cry to the ceiling, feeling the need to tear up.

You grip the roots of his locks, rocking against his mouth like you’ve got no other choice. He hums, encouraged by every squeak and moan that comes out of you, by every drip of your cunt and tensing of your muscles.

He doesn’t care that your thighs are squeezing around his head, or that you can barely hold yourself together. You’re using his face like second nature and his cock weeps in his pants. He feels himself throbbing in tandem with the pulsing of your hole around his tongue.

Then he pulls your lips apart with his thumbs, revealing the pink bud that resides underneath your hood, suckling and coating it with enough spit to drip onto the floor.

“Oh god,” you pant “m’gonna cum. Please don’t stop please please please.”

You’re throttled, and not just by the pleasure but by how fast you’re descending into your own madness. You can’t hear much of anything, see anything but the back of your own eyelids - and your boyfriend is using half of his strength to keep your body upwards as you threaten to wilt.

He doesn’t stop, per your request but to your ultimate demise. You feel yourself leaking as your clit throbs from the aftershocks of a powerful - much needed and thoroughly missed, orgasm.

You think you might pass out, but he feels the trembling in your body and despite his need to keep going until you’re completely done for, all but comatose- he stops.

Through your clouded and hazy senses, your hands tug at his face, his head, his neck. Lazily you attempt to pull him up from his knees, and it’s not your strength that does it, it’s his own. But he lets you believe you pulled him to your mouth, before he even has the chance to wipe your essence off. Not that he cares to.

Your tongues collide in a messy exploration, he’s rough and saccharine and sweet all at once. Your paw at him like you’ve never felt him before, like he didn’t just have his mouth on your most private of parts.

“I need you in me.” You slur the words between open mouthed kisses. He’s pressed so flush against you that you can feel his dick throbbing, and you’re not sure if the wetness is your own or his. Perhaps both.

You’re hungry for it. He’s still starving, and your fingers clumsily pull the waistband of his sweats down until they’re pooled at his ankles. You wrap your hand around the thick member, angrily red at the tip, veins bulging from either side. The thatch of curly hair at his base is covered by his shirt but you don’t have the energy to remove it- to do anything other than ogle at the blood rushing through him, the feel of his pulse through his manhood. He throws his head back for a split second, taking a deep breath.

You turn around, facing the sink and resting your cheek against the cool metal of the edge. You offer yourself to him like this, an invitation in the form of a leaking cunt and buckling knees. His hands, rough and wide pull this godforsaken nightgown up and over the swell of your ass, knuckles grazing the back of your thighs in the process.

You want to look at him but you’re far too flustered, ironically. It’s completely idiotic to still be embarrassed at your own need for your own boyfriend - but someone as beautiful as Eddie doesn’t come around very often. Getting to do this feels like retribution.

“You’re so pretty,” he groans, out of breath. He crudely spits on his cock, you can hear the slick sounds of his precum mixing with his saliva as he strokes himself a few times, one hand on your left hip while he guides his mauve tip to your slit.

“I’m gonna fuck all that attitude away baby.”

The stretch is jarring and unexpected, but the sounds you both make as he sticks himself passed your gummy entrance isn’t. You grip the counter, and he leans his weight over you so that he can mouth at your shoulders while he pushes himself in to the hilt- kissing your cervix before his cock moved around it.

“Yeah?” He taunts, hair tickling your back and lips smearing kisses against your nape. “You’re so goddamn wet, this is all you needed huh?”

He’s genuine within the ruggedness of his voice. Within seconds he’s pulling himself out and shoving himself back in with something fierce driving him. He’s unforgiving in his pace once he gets into a comfortable stance, kicking his sweats off of his ankles and planting his feet behind you.

It’s a symphony of sticky, wet sounds, and grunts with compositions of skin against skin in your small kitchen. It’s been so long since you’ve felt him, since he’s felt you. He’s not just fucking you from the back, he’s mounting you - panting lewdly in your ear while his hands snake themselves around your shoulders.

You cry out, nothing coherent leaving your mouth. Your poor cunt was still contracting from the orgasm he gave you with his mouth when shoved himself inside of you, and now that little spongey spot is being brutally massaged over and over again with each stroke.

“That’s - s-so - good.” Your words are staccato, followed by petulant whines. You’re thankful for his hit breath on your neck, the groans leaving him, the weight of his body behind you. He’s close while still delivering a delicious punishment - a fucking that’s meant to make you forget about anything that’s happened this past week.

“Awe baby, it feels good hmm? You - fucking hell-“

His balls tighten and he knows he’s gonna cum soon, he’s too caught up in how you’re squeezing around him, throbbing from the inside out with your admiration for him. You try to reach back and touch him, but he holds your arms in front of you, a sort of embrace and restraint all in one.

“need to cum baby, need to show you how much I love you. Need to fill you - oh baby - need to fill you all the way. That’s it - there you go there you go, I know.”

He kisses your cheek where a tear falls down, your knees beginning to tremble again in tandem with his own. He ruts and ruts and ruts, your cream coating his cock, your warmth swallowing him whole.

He pulls out, and you think you might start weeping, till he turns you around by your waist and licks the inside of your parted lips. He hiked your leg up around his lithe waist, bends his knees and maneuvers his hips forward so that he can slide back into you.

Now that he can see your face, and you can see his, you both feel cathartic.

You hang onto his shoulders, clawing at his curls and he holds your face, damp lips centimeters away from your own while your foreheads rest against each other. You look down to watch him disappear inside of you, and you marvel at it. Your juices and the sounds they make, how pretty his dick looks coated in your release and his own pre ejaculate.

“M’so fucking deep,” he’s shaking now, sweat beading down his neck. His bottom lip quivers and you begin to realize how this must feel for him as well. How badly you both needed the other. “it feels so fucking good, so good so good so good.”

He’s babbling and you pull his mouth to yours again, suckling on his tongue. With some foreign strength, you use your voice.

“Please cum, I love you Eddie. I want you to cum for me please please, I can’t take it. Cum for me cum for me cum for me I love you.”

He thinks he might cry, he’s so fucking deep when you wrap your arms around him, when your hips are connected so closely that you can’t tell where one of you begins and the other one ends - when the sweet lullaby that is your voice serenades him, begs him to let go.

“Oh god, oh fuck I’m - fuuuuck.”

He tightens, stuttering inside of you while small gasps of pleasure leave him like hiccups. You inhale the scent of his hair, feel the rise and fall of his breath from between his shoulder blades. You’re both twitching, barely standing. A mess, and certainly a sight to see.

He stays like that for a few moments, just enough for all of his cum to dribble out from the tip and into you. When he pulls out, the sound is audible and crude, and he swears to himself he will clean the mess on your kitchen floor.

You don’t know who kisses who first.

Both of you go for the others neck, cheeks, forehead. Gently, with enough love to fill an entire universe itself. It’s a juxtaposition to the way you just had each other. It’s love. Pure, unadulterated, sickeningly sweet to the melancholy.

“I’m staying here tonight,” he kisses your eyelids, then your nose, out of breath. “and I’m gonna make breakfast in the morning. We are never letting this happen again.”

You scratch his scalp.

“Which part? Cause-“ he rolls his eyes, smiling boyishly. Enough to show his dimples, flash his teeth.

“You know which part, I’ll give you whatever you want. But I’m never going this long without being around you. Not ever.”

He’s devout, sincere in a way that is irrevocable. You don’t argue, don’t wince, don’t make a face. You nod, suckling his bottom lip.

You listen.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #joseph quinn #eddie munson x you #Eddie Munson au #joseph quinn x reader #Eddie Munson Drabble #Eddie Munson imagine

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angelicguy · 8 months ago

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the sequel to the grinch

The grinch was laying across his bed. He was trying out a new vape cartridge that he bought online, spewing huge purple green and red clouds throughout his cave home that spun around the stalactites hanging from his ceiling. he was absolutley fucked up. it tasted like strawberry kiwi grape taro root and coca cola. "i feel incredible" thought the grinch.

it was late march after he had saved christmas from himself and ever since he had been sad about his life. despite an awesome christmas no one wanted to hang out with him or really do shit with him. Fine he thought. even though im normal now im finding it really hard to make friends. but thats fine because i have a ton of stuff in my house to do to make it way easier to be alone. namingly his brand new immersive vr system. Which he popped on while still generously fucked up off of his strawberry diesel flavored 510 threaded cart, on the highest temperature for maximum clouds.

so when the game loaded up he was already feeling it. he had a VR assault rifle blasting the bugs in front of him to fucking smithereens. This is incredibly realistic he thought. little windshield wipers on his in-game goggles wiped guts and bug limbs from his view. it was the first level so he had it completely memorized so it was pretty much easy as fuck for him. so realistic, but so boring. he started to panic. no buddies... no crew... his dog is fine but you need boys to hang out with. fuck this vr shit. he threw it off and hopped on discord.

his favorite streamer banned him. whaat. he pays the 5 dollar patreon fee for access. what happened. "she saw the thing about you and christmas." fuck. "but i fixed it" "yeah but shes still playing it safe" maaan. fuck this.

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mariasont · 7 months ago

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The Manuscript - A.H

a/n: this was supposed to be based on t.s new song manuscript, but it didn't realllyyy turn out like that

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x reader

summary: while unpacking you find a series of letters aaron wrote to you in college

warnings: angst, age gap (reader is 20s, hotch is 40s), haley and jack don't exist in this universe

wc: 1.3k

Your gaze swept over the towering stacks of boxes littering your living room floor, and with a resigned sigh, you began the daunting task of unpacking them. Your hands found the nearest box deftly lifting the flaps as you began to pull out its contents. Your felt the soft crinkle of paper beneath your fingers, and gently, you drew out a stack of letters, their edges softened with time, all neatly tied together with a string.

Your heart seized a sudden halt as you realized just what they were. Your throat constricted, parched, as tears stung your eyes, threatening to spill over, your fingers coming to rest over your mouth. Instinctively, your body sank onto the cold hardwood floor, gently placing the papers down beside you. You had forgotten these had even existed, let alone made it with you on the move.

You didn't remember seeing them when you packed, did you? Your fingers shook slightly as they picked apart the knot, and with a hesitant touch, you reached for the first piece of weathered paper.

January 5

Honey,

Your letter was a welcome surprise, far sweeter than any text message could be. I enjoyed spending New Years Eve with you too, and I hope this case ends quickly so I can take you on a real date.

I'm glad to hear college is going well. Should you encounter any more issues with your professor, please let me know. You're a bright young woman, and I have no doubt he'll see that in time. I am looking forward to your next letter.

Yours,

Aaron

March 12

Honey,

I'm glad you enjoyed our date as much as I did. At times, I find my thoughts wandering to you in that dress, and it's a welcome distraction.

I'm glad you look forward to our letters, because I do too. And yes, rest assured, I'm taking all necessary precautions in the field. Don't worry, the team has my back, especially Garcia--she's got more eyes on us than stars in the sky.

Goodluck on your psychology exam. I know you will ace it.

Yours,

Aaron.

May 5

Honey,

I've read your letter several times, and I want you to know that it's perfectly normal to question your path. Trust your instincts--they've led you well thus far. Remember you are allowed to change your mind. Your parents will understand.

No matter what you decide, I have no doubt you will succeed. You have a rare combination of intelligence and empathy that will serve you well in any profession.

Once I'm back, how about we go to that restaurant you love? Consider it a date.

Yours,

Aaron.

July 19

Honey,

Summer suits you, I can tell--even from a distance. I'm proud of the work you're doing--shadowing at the occupational therpay office and working with children is no small feat. You'll have to tell me all about it when I get back.

The case is demanding, as they often are. And as for the sweatshirt, consider it yours. I had a feeling it wouldn't find its way back to me anyway.

We should talk about getting you a key to my place. Then you'll have no need to borrow my things--you'll have access to them whenever you wish.

I love you. I'll say it again when I see you.

Yours forever,

Aaron

January 14

Honey,

Congratulations on your first semester of OT school. I am incredibly proud of you and everything you have accomplished. Smarty pants.

I'm glad to hear you've been using the journal I gave you for Christmas. I would give you a thousand if that's what you wanted.

When I'm back, we'll celebrate your achievements properly. Until then, know I'm grateful for you every day. You've made me the happiest I've been, and I cherish every moment we share. I love you.

Yours forever,

Aaron

May 20

Honey,

Your last letter lingered on the topic of our age difference, and I've been giving it a lot of thought. It's a subject that, admittedly, has crossed my mind more than once. But let me reassure you, to me, it's the person you are, not the years you've lived, that matters most.

I understand the concerns that come with this, and I want you to know that it's okay. Your feelings are valid. We're navigating this together, and I remain certain in my commitment to you and to us.

We'll talk more about this when I'm home. I love you.

Yours forever,

Aaron

August 8

Honey,

I want you to know that I didn't mean to leave things unresolved, I'm sorry I was called away. I'm not writing to rehash the argument. I understand everything you said, and it's given me much to think about.

You are the most important part of my life, and us being at odds is more challenging than any case I've ever face. I love you deeply, and I'm committed to finding a way through this together. When I return, let's sit down and talk--really talk. I'm sorry for the way things were left, and I hope we can move past this.

Yours forever,

Aaron

December 22

Honey,

I find myself at a loss for words yet compelled to write to you. I've had time to reflect on everything that happened between us. I'm deeply sorry for any hurt I've caused, and how things unfolded. My only wish was for us to want the same things.

Please know, I will always be here for you, in any capacity you need. I hope you find someone who is worthy of you and can provide the life you deserve. You deserve someone who can walk with you through all stages of your life--someone who can give you the family you dream of. You have so much to offer.

You are an extraordinary person, and I have no doubt you will find great love and joy. And though it may not be with me, please remember, I still love you.

Yours always,

Aaron.

You hadn't even realized you were crying until your tears began to soak into the page, each droplet distorting the text as it spread. Your hand moved instinctively to your face, the fabric of your sleeve brushing against your wet cheek. A decade-old ache twisted inside you sharply, as fresh as if it were only yesterday.

You returned the letters to their stack, the bow tied as neatly as it was before, and laid them at the bottom of the box. As the papers found their place, your focus shifted, something else catching your attention--the journal he'd given you.

The sudden patter of footsteps coming down the stairs snapped you back to the present. Hastily, you wiped away the lingering tears and secured the lid on the box. As you turned, your face transformed with a practiced smile just as your seven-year-old daughter came skipping into view, her voice bubbling with excitement, "Mommy, mommy!"

Gathering her up in your arms, you showered her cheeks with affectionate kisses, her infectious giggles filling the empty house.

"When is daddy going to be home?"

With a gentle smile, you replied, "Soon, sweetheart," while your fingers danced along her side, eliciting more giggles. "Do you want to help Mommy unpack?"

She quickly scrunched her nose and shook her head. "Mmm, no, not really."

You laughed, and your heart swelled with love so intense it almost hurt. The front door swung open, and your daughter's voice pierced the air once more with a, "Daddy!"

Her little feet dashed off as she rushed to greet him, leaving you to resume unpacking. You barely had time to refocus when you felt a gentle touch in your hair. Aaron was there, kneeling to your level with a tender smile.

"Hi, honey," he said, his hand pausing as he noted the redness around your eyes. "What's wrong angel?"

You reach for the letters, holding them out to Aaron with a half-smile. "Just revisiting the time you were this close to losing the best thing in your life," you tease, a laugh bubbling up. But as the laughter fades, it morphs into a sob.

Aaron's laughter mingled with yours as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to his chest. "Yeah, that was a close one," he admitted, his voice a soft rumble. "Glad I came to my senses."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner angst #aaron hotchner #hotch #hotchner #criminal minds angst #cm #thomas gibson #Spotify

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hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago

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Propaganda

Judy Garland (Meet Me In St. Louis, A Star is Born, Summer Stock)— Judy is the GOAT when it comes to classic movie musicals. The voice of an angel who deserved so much better than she got. She can sing she can dance she can act she's a triple threat. Though she had a turbulent personal life (her treatment as a child star by the studio system makes me mad as hell like Louis b Mayer fight me ((she was made to believe that she was physically unattractive by the constant criticism of film executives who made her feel ugly and who manipulated her onscreen appearance by capping her teeth and using discs in her nose to change its shape and Mayer called her "my little hunchback" like imagine hearing that as a child and not having damage)) she always goddamn delivered on screen and in any performance she gave. She began in vaudeville performing with her sisters and was signed to MGM at 13. Starting out in supporting parts especially paired with mickey Rooney in a bunch of films (she's the best part tbh) she eventually transferred to the lead role. She is best known for her starring role in movie musicals like the iconic Wizard of Oz (somewhere over the rainbow still hits hard and is ranked the top film song of all time), meet me in St. Louis (Judy singing have your self a merry little Christmas brings tears to the eyes she is that powerful), the Harvey girls (she looks like a technicolor dream and sings a catchy af song about trains), Easter parade ( dancing and singing with Fred Astaire), for me and my gal, the pirate, and summer stock ( with pal Gene Kelly who she helped when he was starting out and he helped her when she was struggling). But she also does non- singing just as well like the clock ( her first movie where she sings no songs and is an underrated ww2 era romance), her Oscar nominated a star is born ( like the man that got away she put her whole soul in that and I have beef with the fact she lost to grace kelly ((whom I love but like still not even her best work)), and judgement at Nuremberg (a courtroom drama about the nazi war criminal trials). Outside of film she made concert appearances to record-breaking audiences, released 8 studio albums, and had her own Emmy-nominated tv series. She was the youngest (39) and first female recipient of the Cecil B DeMille award for lifetime achievement in the film industry. Girl was a lifelong democrat and was a financial and moral supporter of many causes including the civil rights movement (she was at the March on Washington and held a press conference to protest the 16th street Baptist church bombings). She was a friend of the Kennedy family and would call jfk weekly often ending the calls by singing the first few lines of somewhere over the rainbow (she thought of them as Gemini twins).She was a member of the committee for the first amendment which was formed in response to the HUAC investigations. Though she died far too young and tragically she remains an icon for her work and her life. As a girl who didn't feel like i was as pretty as everyone else I have always felt a connection to Judy and I just really love her.

Natalie Wood (West Side Story, The Great Race)—She went through so much shit which I know can be said for all these women but Natalie really was a star and her death often overshadows her career and life. She could make you cry, but she also had the capacity to be incredibly funny which I think is lost on people.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Natalie Wood:

Judy Garland:

Judy's voice alone qualifies her for at least top ten hottest HOT VINTAGE MOVIE WOMEN. She was a truly incredible swing singer, with a stunning voice on top of her technique. Her short dark hair looked incredible in just about any style. Have I mentioned her swagger? I can’t do it justice with words. She had swagger. She was funny as hell, and clever too. Incredibly charming and cool. I adore her.

Her eyes, her voice have bewitched me

I mean how can you beat the one and only Judy? She's beautiful, her smile is contagious, the way she sings with her whole body. You can't help but love her.

youtube

Beautiful woman, love her singing voice. And she can do everything between happy or silly and angry or heartbroken

#natalie wood #judy garland #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4 #Youtube

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panickedpenguin · 4 months ago

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Soulmates share a single symptom of emotion. For some, like Dustin Henderson, it's smiling uncontrollably whenever he can feel his soulmate laugh. For others, like Nancy Wheeler, it's balling your fists in tight tension when her soulmate yells in anger.

For Steve Harrington, it's having his eyes burn with unshed tears when he can feel his soulmate crying. When he was younger, he could hardly control the feeling and would openly sob right alongside his soulmate, however far away they were. With age he was able to reel it in, feel it less forcefully, breathe through it. Still, no matter what, his eyes would burn and often get red rimmed with strain. His soulmate was a bit of a crybaby.

He knew Nancy rarely ever cried. She was tough and smart and sought no one's approval but her own. Steve knew Nancy wasn't his soulmate, but he hoped. By God he hoped. But no, his soulmate cried. They cried almost every Christmas and always every Thanksgiving. They cried on March 29th and September 17th. Even now, having cried throughout Steve's whole life, his soulmate would cry randomly in the middle of the day or a Saturday night, cry first thing in the morning or late late, waking Steve from his sleep.

It used to annoy Steve, thinking that his soulmate must still be a baby if they're crying this much at the age of twelve, fourteen, sixteen, like fucking grow up! But when the crying wouldn't stop, when the regularity of it wouldn't slow down, Steve thought something must be wrong. Maybe his soulmate has chronic pain or suffers migraines. Maybe they're being forced to watch the world's saddest movies all the time by his evil step-mom. And then, maybe they live in a world with monsters from another dimension that attack them in the night.

Steve had told Tommy once, how he can feel his soulmates sorrow. Sorrow like drowning in grief and loss. How he feels like crying with his soulmate all the time. Tommy had nodded along, sympathizing. To lighten the mood, he joked that there must be people who pop boners when their soulmate is horny. How maybe they jizz their pants when their soulmate cums. Steve laughed and laughed and didn't bring it up again. Sometimes he'll feel the burning need to cry and think of boners instead.

When he meets Billy Hargrove, he believes that that man has never shed a tear in his life. Steve swears that Billy is a hotheaded asshole with a heart of solid ice. If he even has a heart at all. When Steve is exposed to his competitive streak and mean sense of humor, he thinks that Billy's heart might just be splintered open with the right icepick. When he sees Billy laying across the hood of his camaro, pointing out the constellations and telling stories about them over one too many beers, Steve thinks that maybe his heart isn't ice at all. Just encased in steel. Like a lockbox. And someone's got the key.

He wonders if someone has the key to his heart, too, or if they've lost it in the river of tears they've shed. He wonders if he could show them the key, if they could unlock Steve's heart together and never cry alone again. Because Steve thinks, when he cries, it's because he's alone in his feelings. Lonely and rattling for affection. Maybe that's why his soulmate cries, too.

There was one time Steve felt the burning need to cry all night long and then watched Billy Hargrove sit out of basketball practice for a week. Another time, Steve was at a party where he found himself in Eddie Munson's company in the front driveway, smoking a joint. The weed was making them sleepy and honest and Steve started crying over the death of his beloved Spaniel when he was eight years old, his best friend and housemate while his parents were away. Then Billy Hargrove came storming out of the house and slamming into his car, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. And then there was another Septemeber 17th where Steve hadn't felt the need to cry until he was on his way home from a night shift at Family Video. He knew the date and knew his eyes would be burning for a while more so he refrained from going home to face his parents and instead drove out to the junkyard. He thought he might find something cool but instead he found Billy Hargrove, bashing in the hood of a car with a tire iron and sobbing. He wiped snot across his sleeve and glared hard at Steve for approaching, yelling and taunting. But Steve felt like crying too and he knew something about bashing faces in, so he picked up a brick and threw it through the car's passenger seat window to get Billy to shut up. They both cried and destroyed a few cars together. When they were good and done they sat down on a green washing machine and shared Billy's cigarettes.

Billy said, "My mom died nine years ago today." He sounded so hollow and worn out that Steve only hummed his acknowledgement. Then Steve said, "My soulmate is lonely today." Billy heaves a huge sigh and then they sit there for a long time after.

They don't realize they're soulmates for another few months, at Joyce's Christmas party where Steve kisses Billy on the cheek soft and careful under the mistletoe. Billy sneaks out the back door to silently sob into the forest. Steve soon follows him out to make sure he's okay, only to watch Billy's body shake and barely exhale a breath while Steve's eyes burn and burn.

#harringrove #there are so many things i should be doing but no #im doing this #saw this soulmate idea somewhere and knew it was Billy #billy hargrove #he deserved better #steve has adhd and so do i

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supernovafics · 10 months ago

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𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 2.9k words

warnings: explicit language, (slight) jealous!steve, brief mention of blood/injury (reader has a lil fall)

summary: in which everything has changed for steve after that night at the bar and morning in your bed, but he hasn’t admitted that to you yet. being honest is much harder than he thought it would be and no moment feels completely right, so he continues to pretend that nothing has changed. but, a day at the park playing basketball with you makes it feel a thousand times harder to keep the secret

author's note: the slow burn will end one day (eventually) (i promise) i just love dragging things out for absolutely no reason<3 (i’m sorry!)<333 anyways enjoy this very slight jealous!steve moment! he’s a bit of an asshole in this but also like not really and it’s only kinda for a second

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

It actually wasn’t all that surprising when Steve asked you to go to the park— that Saturday marked the first slightly warm day in months.

And maybe saying that he “asked you” was a bit of a stretch because this felt more like a hostage situation; one that you technically orchestrated since, as one of his Christmas presents, you promised that you would play basketball with him one time. And today, on one of the first few days of March, he decided to drag you out of the apartment and to the park that was a quick drive away and had semi-nice basketball courts.

You changed out of your typical Saturday attire, which simply consisted of a hoodie and shorts, and into a cream-colored t-shirt that said, “Sports Suck. And you do too” in black lettering, Steve got it for you for your birthday, and it felt almost too fitting for this moment. You also had on a pair of black athletic shorts that had been your usual attire during high school gym class.

“You’re the only person that I would ever subject myself to doing this for,” You said to Steve as you stepped out of his car and grabbed the basketball that had been sitting at your sneaker covered feet during the drive. “So, I hope you understand how huge of a deal this is.”

Steve laughed a bit. “I know, and I feel honored that you’re risking your life by doing this for me right now.”

“You say that jokingly, but I brought a first aid kit just in case this ends badly,” You said and handed the basketball over to him. “So, what’s first? A riveting round of HORSE?”

“Before we play any games, and I beat you at all of them, let’s just shoot around for a bit so you can get used to it. Was the last time you played basketball really at my eleventh birthday party?” He asked, shooting the ball from a little bit in front of the three-point line as he spoke and making it almost too effortlessly.

You grabbed the ball as it bounced on the court and then took a shot. You were standing much closer to the basket than Steve had been but still missed.

“If that didn’t just answer your question, yes, your birthday party was the last time I even thought about playing. I actually think it was that day that made me realize I should stay away from all sports.”

“You hadn’t been that bad back then.”

You gave him a look. “Steve, I hit your grandma with a basketball. I missed a shot so bad that it hit her.”

It was that day that you were banned from using the basketball hoop in Steve’s backyard, rightfully so.

“Okay, yeah, but she was fine and forgave you immediately. And even made sure you got an extra piece of cake when you started crying because of how bad you felt,” He said, tossing the ball to you so that you could try another shot.

“Still doesn’t change the fact that I’m horrible at this,” You said before taking a breath and shooting the ball. You missed again, but it at least hit the rim that time.

“That’s progress,” Steve said and gave you an encouraging smile.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Exactly twenty-three minutes had passed, and the only reason that you were keeping close track of the time was because when Steve had dragged you out of the apartment, you told him that you’d only be playing for an hour; unless you somehow turned into a prodigy.

You had lost count of how many times you shot the basketball, but you knew that the number of times you successfully made a basket was four. It was an embarrassingly low number, and you definitely were not a prodigy, but each time you surprisingly made a shot, you’d gasp in shock and Steve would whoop happily and give you an enthusiastic high five while saying that the pointers he was giving you were working. You weren’t entirely sure that was true— and it wasn’t because he was a bad teacher, you were just a bad student. You were certain that each shot you made was based on pure luck and simple probability; if you kept shooting the ball, you’d eventually end up making something.

And when you told Steve exactly that, he only shook his head at you. “No, you made those four shots because you’re good.”

How happy and positive he was being about this entire thing was the only thing that made it bearable.

You laughed a bit. “I love you and your encouragement, but that is such an overstatement.”

“For someone that hasn’t even touched a basketball in eight years, you are good.”

“Thank you,” You said with an amused smile on your face instead of rebutting his statement. “I’ll make sure to try out for the local rec team when the time comes.”

“That’s a great idea. I’ll coach you to help you prepare,” Steve said jokingly, and you only laughed in response.

You were about to ask him to toss you the ball, but a group of guys walking past you two, probably headed to the empty hoop on the other side of the court, caught your attention for a second instead. There were four of them and one smiled at you as he passed by you and Steve and he was kind of cute so you smiled back.

You were completely unaware, but there was something about that smile you gave the guy that made Steve have to look away from the entire nonverbal interaction and focus on the basketball in his hand instead. All too quickly he wanted to blurt it all out, everything that had hit him so abruptly that morning in your bed barely two weeks ago.

I love you. I’m in love with you.

For the most part, that thought was the only thing that consumed his mind these days, especially when you two were together; which of course was way more often than not.

There had probably been at least a hundred moments where he almost accidentally let it slip. Hours after it all had hit him, you two were sitting on the couch mindlessly watching some random sitcom and you leaned your head on his shoulder and he was so close to simply whispering it to you. And then when you two were in your Film and TV history class that Tuesday and writing unserious notes back and forth to one another in the margins of his notebook, he wanted to just write the five words down and slide the notebook back over to you. And just last night when you two were driving to the movie theater to see something with Robin and Eddie, he felt the urge to say it when a stupid love song that felt as if it cheesily summed up exactly how he was feeling came on the radio.

However, he would always bite his tongue right before he told you because he was waiting for that perfect moment to be honest with you, and nothing felt entirely right just yet. And it especially didn’t feel like a good time in this moment where you were smiling at some guy that wasn’t him and a certain feeling that could only be deemed as jealousy sat in the pit of his stomach.

Steve cleared his throat, bringing your attention back to him and then he tossed the ball to you. “Your turn.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The first round of HORSE was started and finished barely fifteen minutes later, quickly ending with Steve winning. Even though you could tell that he was going very easy on you and trying to let you win, you still somehow managed to lose.

“This loss feels so much more embarrassing knowing that you were trying to let me win,” You had said after you missed your shot and got an “E.”

“I wasn’t,” Steve told you with a shake of his head and you only gave him a look that said you didn’t believe him.

You reached down to grab the ball and stop it from rolling away, but you somehow tripped over nothing but your own feet and landed hard on the ground.

You yelped as you collided with the concrete. Luckily, you thought fast enough to put your hands out so that you didn’t completely faceplant. “Ouch. Shit.”

Steve was by your side in an instant and started helping you up. “Are you okay?”

You could only shrug in response to his question at first as you stood up with the help of his hand on your arm.

“Okay, just kidding, that moment was a lot more embarrassing than losing the game,” You told him. When you looked down and saw the deep scrape on your knee and the blood already starting to rise from the wound, you immediately had to look away from it. “I put the first aid kit in the backseat.”

“What? You actually brought it? I thought you were joking,” Steve said, keeping an arm around you as he helped you walk over to the car and opened the passenger side door so that you could sit down.

“Of course, I wasn’t joking. It felt inevitable that something like this would happen,” You said as you sat sideways in the passenger seat so that your feet were on the ground, and then you grabbed a couple napkins from the glove compartment to place it on your knee and help stop the bleeding. “Honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen in the first five minutes.”

Steve grabbed the first aid kit before kneeling down in front of you and you looked at the four guys down at the end of the court. They were playing a two against two game and the one that smiled at you earlier just made a shot at the three-point line.

You stopped looking at him and instead focused on the top of Steve’s head. “Ugh, I can’t believe I just fell in front of that cute guy.”

“Maybe he didn’t even see,” Steve mumbled with a quick shrug.

“I doubt that,” You said and then sighed. “These last few weeks have been very humbling. First, things immediately going downhill with Jamie, and now this.”

Steve didn’t know how things had ended with Jamie, you had yet to tell him the exact reasoning, but selfishly he had been glad that they did. Although he couldn’t find it in him to tell you the truth just yet, the thought of now having to see you with anyone else annoyed him.

You tapped his shoulder so that he would look up at you. “It would be a bad idea if I went up to him and asked for his number, right?”

“Yeah, it would,” Steve answered, pulling his eyes away from yours and focusing on grabbing something from the first aid kit instead. His words were a lie, for the most part— he personally would’ve thought it was cute if a girl did that to him. He immediately felt like shit for lying to you, but not enough to go back on what he said.

You nodded at his response. “Okay.”

You kept your eyes away from what Steve was doing as he cleaned up your knee, looking up at the sky instead until he was done and placing the large band-aid over it.

“Thanks,” You said and smiled at him.

He looked up at you for a brief moment before standing up and simply giving you a small nod. He went over to grab the basketball, which had rolled into the grass, and then put it in the backseat.

The drive back to the apartment was quiet and it felt more like Steve’s doing than yours. He suddenly seemed distant, maybe even mad at you, and the abrupt shift felt so odd.

You looked over at him. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

It felt pretty clear that he wasn’t fine, though. You could tell that he was annoyed at you for reasons that you couldn’t decipher and that only made you annoyed as well. You didn’t even play with the radio during the drive back to the apartment, you just sat there with your arms folded across your chest as you stared out the window.

You wondered if the prevailing silence bothered him as much as it bothered you, but then that question didn’t even matter because he was pulling into the parking lot of the apartment building and parking in the usual open spot next to your car, and you were unbuckling your seatbelt.

“What happened with you and Jamie?” Steve asked before you could open the door and step out of his car. “You never really talked about it.”

The abruptness of the question surprised you; and it wasn’t even the question itself that was the surprising part, it was more so the timing of it. Was that why he decided to randomly get mad at you? Because you never told him what happened on that dumb date? And why the hell would it even matter at this point?

You weren’t even entirely sure why you hadn’t told Steve the full extent of what happened. When you came back from the date that night, you only said that things had gone badly.

You turned to look at Steve. “He didn’t like you.”

His eyebrows furrowed at that. “What?”

“Well, not you necessarily, but us; our friendship,” You said, looking down at your band-aid-covered knee. “When me and him went on the date, he asked about what my emergency was and why I had to cancel the date the first time, and I told him about your accidental phone call and you being drunk at the bar and me having to go get you, and he didn’t see that as much of an emergency; especially since you had wanted Eddie to pick you up. He thought it was a little weird how easily I canceled plans to go do something for you, and the whole night kind of shifted awkwardly from there.”

You remembered that entire conversation perfectly, and you honestly couldn’t even get that annoyed with Jamie when he said any of that because you didn’t think that your priorities would ever be able to change. Steve would probably always be at the top of your unwritten list, and you had come to the conclusion that whoever else wanted to be in your life would just have to deal with that.

“Oh.”

You looked at him curiously. “What?”

“Nothing,” Steve shook his head. “I’m sorry.”

Hearing him say that only confused you. “Sorry for what?”

He was quiet for a long moment before sighing. “I don’t know…”

“Is that why you were mad at me just now? Because I didn’t tell you what happened on the date?”

“No, I don’t even know why I brought it up right now, I was just curious,” He said with a shrug before meeting your gaze. “And I’m not mad at you for anything. I promise.”

“Okay…” You said as you found one of his hands and gave it a light squeeze. “So, what’s up with you? Clearly, something’s wrong, right? Is it something with your parents?”

“No, nothing with them,” He responded, which was an answer that only confused you more. It looked like there were a thousand things going through his head right then, and you couldn’t seem to decipher any of it, which felt foreign to you— you were so used to reading him like a book. “It’s just… it’s kind of hard to explain right now.”

If it really had nothing to do with his parents, you were unsure what else it could be and what else would be difficult to talk to you about. In your head, there wasn’t supposed to be anything that you couldn’t talk to each other about; you were best friends for a reason. It was easy to joke around and playfully banter with one another, but it had also always been easy to have the types of deep and honest conversations that neither of you would ever have with anyone else.

You decided not to push him further in this moment, though. Whatever was going on with him, you knew that he’d tell you eventually.

“It’s okay. Tell me whenever you want to,” You said softly and then decided to say your next words jokingly to shift the mood a bit. “But stop being weird about whatever it is, or I will think that you hate me or something.”

Steve only shook his head at your words at first. “I could never hate you.”

Maybe that was when you should’ve seen it, when you should’ve realized how he felt about you. There was something about the way he said his short statement— so certainly, so truthfully— that should’ve made you connect all of the dots. But, that was the last possible thing on your mind. You would’ve thought that he wanted to move out of the apartment for some random reason before you even considered thinking that he had any sort of romantic feelings toward you. You two had been friends for forever so that just didn’t sound like a plausible thought.

Therefore, instead of any sort of “aha!” moment hitting you right then, you smiled playfully at Steve and said, “Good.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington series

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umeumeumee · 9 months ago

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your lips, my lips

ೄྀ࿐ ˊˎ- clarisse la rue x daughter of eros! reader

synopsis: valentine’s day- something that everyone truly disliked. until one moment, something changed.

authors note: this is not apart of fault is false (sorry!) but i’m sick with a really bad cold today and i wanted to write something special for clarisse on valentines! so.. Happy valentine’s day, everyone!

Valentine’s day.

Something humans found to be dear to them, coupled people exchanging gifts to one another on the fourteenth of February; the holiday of love.

in camp half blood, valentine’s day was celebrated to the fullest extent of its potential— it was so dear to humans as they had a rather short life span, hence a day to express your love to someone was so precious to the weak minded people. at camp, the holiday was acknowledged by the campers to recognize the importance of being half human, and half god, as well as the lovey dovey atmosphere that followed after. The same was done with other important holidays, such as Halloween and Christmas.

Clarisse la rue did not find the holiday to be particularly pleasant- or pleasant at all, for that matter. Valentine’s day was stupid in her mind. two people smuggling each other in both emotional and physical affection? openly displaying affection? i front of people? such thoughts made the daughter of Ares want to gag.

but than there was you— daughter of Eros, your charm was an automatic reminder of your heritage, and a stark figure of your character.

clarisse felt like a child by how hard she fell for you, stealing the breath from her lungs at every glance she caught of you.

your pretty smile, your wonderful eyes, your sweet face. Clarisse la rue was pissed at herself when she finally realized exactly what her feelings meant, shoving them down like lava to a volcano.

But like all creatures of nature, it was ought to burst out somehow.

and for the young daughter of Ares, her volcano ruptured on valentine’s day- to her fury.

it was a sunny day, but it had never felt so dark to clarisse. Her footsteps shook the earth as she angrily marched through camp, shoving heart shaped balloons from her path and kicking roses she saw on the floor.

The curly haired girl had caught wind that you’d received numerous valentine gifts- chocolates, flowers, posters and even jewelry. knowing people other that clarisse had been eyeing you down for a while made the flickering flame inside her chest burn down towers with her rage.

She stormed through camp with fire following her trail, each step was quaking those around her.

She stormed to cabin 39, where the children of Eros lay.

everyone knew the children of the Greek god of carnal love’s children rivaled those of ancient Greek goddess of love and beauty, Aphrodite. You were point of that accusation, the most beautiful girl Clarisse had ever laid her eyes on.

and even now she as she had a torch lighting aflame her chest, she still yearned for your touch— even as she was heading in your direction to explode in a way she wasn’t sure of.

She took a sharp turn around capin 56, for the children of eris— their dark aura usually affecting clarisse now deflected off her skin like a bow to raw metal, the children watching in discord as she stormed to the door of cabin 39.

Clarisse slammed her cinnamon skinned hand against the polished wood harshly, waiting with furrowed brows for someone to answer the door. When she saw the handle move, her back subconsciously straightened.

The wood was pulled back and you were revealed— in all your nauseating, grueling, pure beauty, smile growing wide upon the sight of the curly haired girl outside your door.

“Clarisse!” your voice was smooth like honey, sticky like maple syrup and sweet like sugar. Clarisse ignored the warmth that flushed her body at the soft call of her name you expressed in joy, stupidly gorgeous smile widening at her presence.

in honest, clarisse wanted to bathe in your touch- your voice, your gaze and your heart. She yearned for you in a way she’s never felt, her defensive and rough external force disintegrating pathetic into nothing when you traced your honey soft skin along her arm, pushing hair from her face as the only scent she cpould smell was the sweetness of your person.

Clarisse was scared of her feelings in fact, and the idea that you might like someone other than her had her at the edge of her seat. She knew that it was likely, and if she truly did want you— today would be the day to make the claim.

She huffed, squinting her eyes as you moved from the doorway to welcome her inside. she reluctantly agreed, tucking her chin upward as she took steps forward. Instantly, the smell of sweets and tea attacked her senses with not a single warning— sugar and honey the only smell she could register.

Her face scrunched, overwhelmed by the smell— you laughed, covering your smile with your fingers as you usually did, a cute habit clarisse admired.

“sorry, glykó korítsi. Cole went all out for tou Agíou Valentínou.” Clarisse tucked her face away from your view, scolding herself for faltering under the stupid greek nickname you’ve given her; “pretty girl.”

She took a moment to gather herself, huffing in an upset expression when she examined your cabin.

god, there was no place Clarisse hated more that the Eros Chilren’s Cabin.

the cabin has an intense aura that can drive other demigods insane with arousal— unless that demigod is the child of a love god or goddess once activated by a child of Eros. Clarisse was lucky enough to know you to the point you spared her the torture of the curse on your cabin, and was beyond grateful the so called ‘blessing’ can also be deactivated at will.

clarisss recalled when you first exposed her to your cabin- On the northern part of the first floor, it has a room that can bring to life any sexual and or romantic desire, as well as an exact copy of the person they desire. clarisse found it odd, disgusting even. Nasty fantasies coming to life? how alone and sad does your life have to be you have to imagine yourself with someone you love? she could laugh in their face and ridicule them until they run away crying.

In the living room, there are several shelves with books containing all kinds of unknown and known love stories recorded throughout the ages. It has a large TV in the center, and a rather nice leather couch, may the daughter of ares be so kind to say.

In the east wing lies the kitchen, and on the west wing lies the public bathrooms. There is romantic music playing softly in the background through the means of a record player. That is another reason clarisse despised your cabin; the music.

There is a chandelier hanging from the ceiling with artwork of all kinds of people procreating with one another. On the second floor lies the bedrooms of the children of Eros. Clarisse only knows that because…

Her face turned a subtle shade of pink, barely noticeable on her skin, but the warmth was all the same.

“so, why are you here?” your sticky sweet voice tore clarisse from her thoughts— thoughts she tries her best to… forget.

she cleared her throat— “I wanted to escape this holiday but obviously i came to the wrong cabin,” she lied through her teeth, gesturing to the many heart and love balloons and decorations littering your cabin.

You smile, “You definitely did. This is the last place you should come to on Valentines. Why not go to Eris cabin?” you question, obviously not catching the not-so-obvious hint clarisse thought dropped for you.

“Clearly. and those kids are lame.” she crossed her arms, scanning the area. Your cabin was something else. She felt her cheeks warm once more at the people making out along the stairs of your home, rushing upstairs to the soundproof bedrooms.

Her gaze flickered away, catching yours. Your eyes were red, same as your fathers. They were filled with so many things clarisse could only put her finger on, but all she knew is that her words always died in her throat at their gaze.

“Well, you are welcome to stay, anyway.” you hum, tucking some hair behind your ear as you shifted your weight to a different leg.

Clarisse stood standing with many various of feelings— her knees were uncharacteristically weak, tummy doing summersalts inside her belly, hands shaky as all she wanted to do was—

“come on,” you motioned her over, a strange smile on your face. Clarisse felt herself become uncharacteristically excited as you led her up the stairway to your bedroom, her steps close behind yours as you waved to your siblings in the halls as they sent you a teasing smile before retreating back into their own rooms, with someone who bore little clothes.

Clarisse would never forget the first time she sat foot in your room— a cold winter night, a heated moment— something she would never forget, even though she tried.

as you lead her down the familiar hall, music played lightly from the stairways entrance, echoing throughout the cabin. The sight of your door came to her view, your hand twisting the handle and revealing your room.

Clarisse got immediate flashbacks to the last time she was here, knees once more weakened by the remembrance.

You gently slid your hand down her arm, pulling her into your room and closing the door. Clarisse looked around nervously— your room wasn’t very decorated, only a few things representative of love here and there- most likely gifts from your father. You sat on your bed, eyes pulling clarisse in by the throat as she sat beside you.

It was an awkward silence— at least on her behalf, valentine’s day was always an opportunity to seem unhappy. but as she sat with you, the tension in the room was chewing her skin and muscles off her bones.

the bed shifted for a second, and Clarisse looked over to you— your red eyes staring daggers into hers.

They were so beautiful, a blood like red— so many emotions swarming in them— so many things to represent who you truly where— they held passion, desire, sexuality, lust, danger, action, drama, joy, stress, radiance.

Clarisse could barely hold herself back as your smile encased her in a cage, trapping her, tormenting her— The cinnamon skinned girl was about to make a daring move- but you did first.

You slammed your lips to Clarisses, bed creaking slightly from the fast, sudden movement of your action— but clarisse waisted no time kissing you back. Your lips fell into sync together, dancing in a rhythm that was so perfect you wanted to melt into her.

Her hands landed on your hips, and yours in her soft curly hair— she shoved you down, back meeting the soft pink sheets of your bed, the sound of you two devouring each other the only sound in your room other than the faint valentines music bouncing through the walls.

You pulled her hair, a soft groan leaving the girls lips as she trailed her kisses down to your neck. You hummed, completely emersrd- the feeling of her lips on you was so sweet— you wanted to faint.

But you quickly realized that it wasn’t nearly as cute as you thought, as a sharp pain ate at your skin where she was feeling on your neck. You gasp, the warm feeling of blood barely falling from your neck. She’d bit you.

“clarisse-“ she silenced you with her own lips, the taste of your blood swarming between your mouth and hers, and you melted into the kiss once more.

the kiss was harsh, filled with desperation from both parties, hands touching every possible part of each others body as you lay on your bed.

You weren’t sure, but you guessed this was her way of asking you to be her valentine.

and being the daughter of Eros, there was no better way to ask.

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zosin-ya · 5 months ago

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Zoro jealous headcanon

Charakter: Roronoa Zoro Content: Zoro being kinda hot when jealous

-First and foremost, Zoro is not a man who gets jealous easily. He is a man of principles, and so is his partner. He trusts you completely and takes pride in the fact that someone as desirable as you is his. He feels fortunate to have such a wonderful person by his side.

-However, this doesn’t mean he is immune to jealousy. He isn’t perfect. When he senses that someone else might be trying to win you over, he shifts into possessive mode. Some insecrutities he never thought he would have suddenly pop up once he sees that someone flirts with you.

-He won’t hesitate to march over and tell the person to back off, making it clear that you’re not interested. His calm yet intense demeanor is so intimidating that it even gives you goosebumps. Often, just one look from Zoro is enough to send anyone running, but sometimes he has to confront them directly.

-As much as it bothers him that he can get jealous, you find it kind of hot. The way he straightens up, making his already impressive physique even more imposing, the way he cracks his neck and makes his veins pop, the way he crosses his arms and gives that deadly glare to anyone daring to flirt with you—you could fuck him then and there.

-Don’t even think about teasing him about his jealousy. He will deny it completely. The idea of him losing his calm and getting jealous? Pfft, you must have imagined it. It’s so out of character for Zoro that he’s even surprised by his own feelings of jealousy.

-Zoro is the quiet, jealous type. He might be a bit grumpy that day, and you’ll need to reassure him that everything is fine and that you’re not going anywhere. A few sweet words of affection and a kiss here and there will help. He’s like a little kid who got the wrong present for Christmas—grumpy as can be.

[Click here for more Zoro content!]

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tsumtsumrry · 1 year ago

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Favorite Holiday

this follows harry and a cutie (you) through some of your favorite holidays as you guys navigate a little fun friends with benefits/situationship stitch. i feel like this took forever so sorry for my near disappearance but i hope you enjoy!! <3

**disclaimer** i'm american so i have the dates (e.g. 11/24/23) month/day/year format. just to avoid any confusion!! <3

WC: 12k.

warning(s): afab descriptions and she/her pronouns, language, multiple instances of smut (fingering, phone sex, f receiving oral use of a vibrator, unprotected don't do it p in v), barely proofread cause i was too excited to finally post it, and a bit of angst.

March 20th, First day of Spring.

The holidays were always your favorite time of year. Every single one for that matter. Every holiday has its own special place in your heart. New Years, Easter, Christmas, etc. You loved them all the same. But you looked forward to them even more so this year. Because this year you had Harry.

Harry, who was sitting across from you right now, laughing as he animatedly tells one of his horrible but adorable jokes. You have the stupidest grin on your face, with your eyes set on how his lips form the words coming out of his mouth. You can’t seem to look away. It doesn’t help that he keeps sneaking glances at you, those suggestive eyes that only you know burning into your face.

He plans to take you home tonight, you can tell. You two have been going at this for months, the no-strings-attached sex thing. You think it’s easy enough. There’s never been any real difficulties, just the fact that you’re trying to keep it discreet.

The first kiss was at the New Years party. You were both tipsy, he confessed that he always had a little fixation on you and how you looked in “all those pretty outfits you like to wear” and you confessed that him and his “fancy british accent”, “pretty tattoos”, and “ridiculously charming personality” never failed to have you imagining kissing those incredibly soft looking lips.

He looked at you for a second, his gaze moving from your lips to your eyes as if he was trying to gauge where your head was at. Then, at the perfect timing, the clock turned twelve and your lips were intertwined. The rest is history.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you bite your lip, fighting hard to hide the smile that threatens to overtake your face. You know exactly who it is.

You pull your phone out and smirk when you read it.

H 11:34PM

Need you tonight, baby.

It’s been too long since he’s touched you, you missed it so much and he couldn’t go another day without you. You look around a little, trying to make sure no one is looking at your phone (only making yourself look more suspicious in the process) and then begin typing back.

You 11:36PM

And what do you suppose I do about that?

You look up at him when you know he’s seen the message. You smirk at him and he gives you a look that says ‘you know damn well’ but he texts back anyways.

H 11:37PM

Come to mine tonight. Let me fuck you.

As soon as you read the text your stomach erupts with butterflies, you always have an instant reaction to his words. You press your thighs together and try your best not to squirm.

He doesn’t need to know that though, so you answer with a simple,

You 11:40 PM

Ok.

You push your phone right back into your pocket and try your best to continue with the conversation that’s getting passed around the table. But thoughts of him keep creeping in. Thoughts of his voice in your ear, the feeling of him inside of you, stretching you and filling you, his hands gripping you roughly or gently, depending on how you feel, all you can think about is him.

“It’s getting late, you guys. I’m exhausted. Loved seeing you all.” you finally say, not being able to take much more of wanting something when it’s literally right in front of you and not being able to just take it.

“Me too. Got an early morning. See you.” Harry says after you, looking at you not-so-discreetly as he gets his stuff.

When you’re both outside he instantly pulls you away from the windows and kisses you. It’s hard and passionate and needy and it’s almost like he―

“Missed you.” he says in between kisses, his hands going to grip your waist tightly, like he’s yearning for the skin to skin contact.

“Yeah?” you whisper, tugging on his bottom lip which earns you a pained groan.

“Fuck. Mhm. Missed you so much. You smell good.”

You giggle at his admission about your scent and decide to spur him on even more.

“Show me. Take me home, H.”

Waking up next to Harry is something you simultaneously love and wish you never got to experience. Because when this little arrangement is over, you know you’ll miss it too much.

When he wakes up, he doesn’t treat you like his fuck buddy, he treats you like some sort of girlfriend. And you haven’t let it detrimentally affect you yet, but you know it will. And the day it does is when you’ll know you need to end this. End it before someone, scratch that, you get hurt.

“Mornin’, angel. Want some breakfast?” he says, his voice gravelly but also smooth like toffee and it sounds weird but you want to taste it.

“Mhm. Whad’ya making?” you mumble, eyeing his lips.

“Whatever you want. Kiss?”

You smile and lean up to kiss him, taken by surprise when he deepens it and pulls you over his lap. You giggle into the kiss and he smiles with a short chuckle.

“Want anything before I go make it?” he says, obviously trying to start something.

“Harry…”

“Just asking, sweetheart. You know I always want you.” he says with a kiss to your collarbone, “only you” he says softly as if it wasn’t meant to be heard.

“Stop trying to sweet talk me. Go make breakfast.” You push yourself off him and he whines, but obliges, going to make that lovely french toast he knows you want.

You sit up to look through some emails when you hear it, his phone buzzing incessantly on his counter.

You know it shouldn’t bother you, you’re just friends who happen to enjoy each other's sexual company. The idea of him having someone else that he whispers sweet nothing to in his ear just doesn't feel right to you.

You pick up the phone, keeping it face down, (not wanting to see something you know you don’t want to) and walk to the kitchen where Harry is mixing some yummy smelling batter.

“Think someone is trying to reach you.” you try to come off as cool and collected, and you almost convince yourself that you are, but you know you’re not. You curse your sensitivity and watch as he picks up the phone but puts it back down, face down, just as quickly.

“Makin’ your favorite.” He rasps out, turning around to smirk at you. He frowns when your expression isn’t one of your usual excitement.

“You okay, baby?” he inquires, setting the bowl of batter down on the counter and walking over to you. He takes your hands in his and playfully looks into your eyes with faux intensity, “tell me.”

“I’m okay, yeah. Just tired.” It’s only now that you actually wonder how many times you’ve told that lie.

“Worked you over good last night, hmm?” He smirks and you roll your eyes and smile despite yourself, “you sounded like you were having a good time.” he adds cheekily and before you can stop it a giggle breaks from your lips.

“I was.” His ability to make you feel like everything is okay with just a cheeky smile and a couple of words breaks you and mends you at the same time.

“Good girl.” he whispers against your lips, kissing you slowly and softly.

“Back to the food!” he exclaims, breaking away from you to saunter back over to the counter-top.

“Wanna be my sous chef?”

April 1st, April fools.

You never understood the fixation with men’s hands until you started sleeping with Harry.

“Fuck.” he drags out the vowel sound as he thrusts his fingers in and out of you, stroking your g-spot in a way you can only describe as affectionately rough, “look at you princess, taking my fingers so fucking well.”

“H..fuck I—” you’re cut off by your own loud moan, praying that no one can hear you two. Your friend group planned a little get together given the fact that it’s april fools and you guys have nothing better to do. You all decided to host it at Harry’s place and he lasted about ten minutes trying to be a good host before he dragged you into the bathroom with a phony excuse that you’re almost sure nobody believed.

When you reach up to cover your mouth, he tuts softly and reaches up to tap three fingers against your hand, signaling he wants it off, “s’my fucking house we can be as loud as we want. You know how much I love your pretty sounds, why’re you trying to keep ‘em from me, huh? Being bad?” he says in that condescending tone that you simultaneously love and hate.

“N-no, please H. M’not being bad jus-just please.”

“Love it when you beg. Soaking me like this and I’ve only given you two fuckin’ fingers–”

“Gonna cum.” you interrupt him with your frantic moan, he’s always very adamant about you asking for permission. He needs to be in control like that. He needs to have that control over your body and your pleasure. He thrives on it. “Can I please, please cum?”

“Fuck. You’re sqeezin’ me so fucking tight. Gonna make a mess all over my fingers, baby? Give it to me.”

“Yes, yes yes” you feel that white hot pleasure building in what feels like every nerve in your body and your muscles start to jerk as you cope with all the pleasure overriding your system. You ramble out a couple praises mixed in with Harry’s name and your hand tangles in his hair which he groans at. You pray to every god that you can think of that nobody downstairs can hear the way he’s ruining you.

“There you go, baby.” he doesn’t stop with his fingers, keeping a rhythm that only intensifies your release. When you choke on a moan that sounds more like a sob, he kisses your temple gently and soothes you with his voice, “I know, I know. Feels too good, doesn’t it?”

You’re not sure if he expects a response, but even if he did you’re not in any state to give one. His fingers have turned your brain into a mushy mess.

“You’re okay darling. Always making me so proud.” He whispers as you come down, slowly pulsing his fingers inside you still to help you ride it out.

“Jesus christ.” you sigh and he chuckles softly.

“What was our excuse again?” he asks before leaning down to your lips to kiss you, his kiss full of the lust that’s swimming in his forest eyes.

“Dunno, something about getting the movies that we were gonna watch,” you giggle softly against his lips and he smiles.

You get some movies from his bedroom so that you don’t seem too suspicious and go back downstairs to your friends. The heat of embarrassment makes itself known every time someone asks you or Harry what took so long or what distracted you up there.

“What could you guys possibly have been doing for eight whole minutes?” a friend of yours asks incredulously with a joking tone.

“We couldn’t find the movie we wanted. Duh.” Harry shoots back with a quickness, smirking softly when he looks over to you. And he can read your body like a book. He knows you’re a little embarrassed at the idea of people finding out that you guys have been fooling around.

You’re playing with the lobe of your ear as everyone takes in Harry’s response and laughs. Someone tells another joke that just amplifies the laughter but Harry’s only looking at you. Playing with the lobe of your ear is one of your many obvious tells with your anxiety. He makes a mental note to check on you later.

During the movie he plops himself right in between you and one of your friends, making both of you giggle. He swings his arm around your shoulder and leans down to whisper in your ear. The heat and tickle of his whisper sends a shiver down your spine and you know that the position you guys are in is less than discreet but you can’t really find it in yourself to care when he’s close like this. “You okay?” he asks in an earnest tone, his hand gently squeezing your shoulder for good measure. You nod softly and he smiles, softly tugging you closer.

April 9th, Easter.

Easter was always a fun holiday, especially for your god children, you always loved to see the little kids run around in search of the little painted eggs. It reminded you of a time when you were in their position, blissful and young. You often refer to those as the ‘good old days’, but you can’t quite complain about how you ended up.

You’re talking to your sister’s baby boy when your phone rings, you pull it out to see a picture of Harry sleeping in bed and you smile, you remember when you took that picture.

“Hello?”

“Hi, pretty. Where are you?” he sounds kind of breathless, like he’s been running a mile.

“At an Easter egg hunt. You?”

He chuckles darkly before speaking. “Dunno. Just missin’ you.” he says. You squint your eyes in suspicion.

“Missing me?” you say with the same suspicion laced in your voice. You’re starting to understand what he’s playing at.

“Missing your sweet cunt. God, the way you taste. Need you on my tongue.” he spews out in what seems like one breath.

“Jesus Christ, Harry. What has gotten into you?” you hiss, quickly getting up out of your seat and away from prying eyes and ears.

“God, I can almost imagine it.” you hear his whisper and the neediness radiating off of his voice makes you press your thighs together. He’s touching himself. He’s fucking his hand to the thought of your taste and it’s driving you mad. “Want you to sit on my face next time, have your thighs shaking around my head, your pussy drenchin’ me―fuck!” he whimpers.

“Harry…” you say, it’s supposed to be some type of warning but the arousal starting to pool in your underwear has your voice coming out shaky and unstable.

“Love it when you say my name like that. Again. Say it again, please baby.” he begs, shamelessly. You can tell he’s close, the strain in his voice, the crackly over-the-phone sound of the wetness of his strokes.

“Harry I―”

“Fuck fuck fuck, I fuckin’ need you. Please, please.” he keeps whispering the word “please” under his breath, gasping out moans and whines, “gonna cum, gonna cum.”

You decide there's no harm in spurring him on a bit, “come for me, Harry.”

You hear a broken “fuck” before a series of his beautiful sounds fill your ears. You squeeze your eyes shut at the onslaught of stimulation, butterflies swarming around in your tummy.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah fuck.” you whisper and you hear his laugh on the other end.

“Sorry―Sorry I um― called you like that. I just, fuck, really needed you. Was so fuckin’ hard. Y’have no idea.” he breathes out.

“I…um. I missed you too.” you don’t know why you cringed at yourself after saying it, but it’s almost like Harry can read your mind because he chuckles and speaks in a reassuring tone, “that’s the cutest thing I’ve ever heard. When will I see you again missy?”

“Dunno. I’ve been a little busy with work and…stuff. I’ll have my people call your people to see when I can fit you into my schedule.” you joke, biting your lip softly and toying with your necklace as you wait for his response.

When you hear a soft laugh a smile is immediately brought to your face. That laugh could melt you. His voice is like velvet when he speaks, “I’ll have you soon. We both know you can’t stay away. You need me for my slutty waist and washboard abs as you usually say.”

You try your best to hold in your laugh so as to not inflate his ego, but it slips out before you have permission and both of you are laughing before you feel a delicate tap on your leg. You’re met with your nephew when you turn around and look down to find the source of the touch.

“Can we pway more bunnies?” your nephew says to you and you nod softly, “just give me one second honey.” He nods and walks back to the place you guys were sitting and you smile as you watch him.

“I’ve gotta go but I’ll text you, alright?”

“See you soon, petal.”

May 31st, Memorial Day.

“That kiss the cook apron is really working for you, Harry I’ve got to say.” you giggle at your friend Jamal’s shout at Harry.

It’s another one of your favorite holidays and you and your friends are all at the beach. The sun is beaming on your skin and warming you in the best way while the breeze balances it out, cooling you in the places needed. “Take it off! Take it off!” you join the chant, having trouble even speaking in between laughs.

“You guys are fucking ridiculous” Harry chuckles. He smirks and reaches behind him to pretend to take the apron off, laughing when everybody’s cheers get louder.

When the food is done and everyone is full, the girls lay on the sand while the guys are across from you guys making sandcastles like children. You look over at Harry and feel your stomach twist in a way that it’s been doing recently that you can’t stand. He just looks so good. You don’t know how else to explain it. Especially in this light, the warm sunset creating a golden glow against him. The soft amber tones kissed his skin and the sunshine he usually radiated with his personality seemed to radiate physically, as if he was being infused with the sun’s very essence.

You couldn’t stop yourself from sitting up to go and talk to him. He looked up at you in the position he was in on his knees and smiled, his eyes squinted from the direct sunlight.

“Hey. Fancy going for a walk?” the way he says it seems like he’s been waiting for the opportunity to do so. The sun shifts and his expression softens as he awaits your response.

You nod and put your hand out for him to take it, and he rolls his eyes playfully but takes your hand anyway. You try not to think about what the rest of the group might think as you walk away with him, hand in hand. It’s not lost on you that you guys look like a couple, but Harry has always been touchy with his friends, some might say too touchy, so you pray that they’ll just attribute it to that.

He swings your hands as you guys walk, and constantly rakes his fingers through his damp hair with his free hand. You kind of wish he wouldn’t because you love the way his curls fall over his face.

“I feel like we’ve both been so busy. I haven’t gotten to see you as much as I want to.” You stop walking, you guys are a bit of a good distance away from everyone else and he’s starting to get more affectionate with you. His hands trail up to your arm to cradle your neck and he rubs your jaw affectionately. He leans down to ghost his lips against your neck and whispers, “I’ve missed you.”

There’s something so poetic about the way his voice carries with the wind and the distant sound of the waves crashing around you guys. You melt into his hands when his lips finally make actual contact with your skin and you have to fight hard to suppress the whimper that threatens to leave your mouth.

“Tell me you’ll come home with me tonight. Please.” He suckles on your neck gently, causing the moan you were suppressing to finally force its way out.

“I will. Anything you want.” you pant out, tangling your hands into his hair. You sigh when he pulls away from you but you can’t complain when you get the view of the sun reflecting in his eyes. It feels like you’re frozen in time as you look at him. The sun has set a bit more and the atmosphere is colored a fiery orange that bleeds more into a red. His eyes mimic the water in the way they glisten and his pink lips almost make you weak just looking at them. Especially considering the way those lips were just all over you.

Harry’s staring at you in awe, the way the deep colored rays dance against your skin made it seem like a thousand stars fell from the sky just to adorn you. You’ve always been beautiful, but in this very moment, you’re transcendent. To him it’s like you constantly exceed any expectation for beauty he could possibly have. Everything about you is like a masterpiece to him. He wonders why it took him so long to grasp just how weak the sight of you makes him. He gives you one soft kiss and then pulls back too quickly. He takes your hand and starts walking with you back to the rest of the group.

Looking at him now, you wonder why it took you so long to grasp just how deep you are in this. Having thoughts of freezing time and staying in this moment so you can look at him forever are dangerous thoughts. Thoughts that almost make it seem like you’re in love.

Dangerous.

October 31st, Halloween.

“Jesus, babe.” Harry brings his finger up and moves it in a circular motion, “do a spin for me.”

You giggle and spin around, making sure to do it slowly so he can really take in the way this dress hugs your figure in all the right ways. He whistles and you can’t stop the laugh from leaving your lips.

Ever since your realization at the beach, things have been so simple between you two. You thought it would complicate things, but everything has been perfect. So incredibly perfect. It’s almost like he knew that you were starting to feel something more, the way he’s been treating you these past couple months is so different. Different in a good way. The amount of attention and care that he’s devoted to you makes your stomach with more butterflies than you can handle.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” you tell him, walking up closer to him, having to look up at him. Your confidence wanes the slightest bit at his intense eye contact when he looks down at you with an amused smirk on his face.

“Yeah? I look good enough for you?” he quips, dangerously close to your lips as he speaks, “I was worried you know? S’hard to measure up to you.”

Ever the flirt, he is.

“You’re overdoing it now.” you deadpan and back away from him, making him throw his head back in a cackle. It was Harry’s idea to go to the Halloween party in matching costumes. You were a little shocked at first but you’d never turn down an opportunity to match with the most fashionable man you know.

“Our ride is gonna be here in about….” he looks down at an imaginary watch on his wrist, “fifteen minutes. Whadya say we sneak a quickie in?” he smirks at you and chuckles when you roll your eyes.

“It’s this fucking outfit,” he practically growls, his hands palm at your ass, “driving me insane, baby.”

“And whose idea was it?” you tilt your head as you speak, making a point to move his hands from your ass to your waist. “I’m not gonna be late because of you again, Harry. Keep your hands at appropriate places at all times.” you scold him.

“Yes it was my idea,” he sighs. “A very good but painful idea that I take full credit fo—” a car beeping outside interrupts his sentence and his brow furrows while you smirk at him.

Right…fifteen minutes.

Getting in the car and seeing all your friends dressed in all their Halloween outfits already has you excited for the rest of the night. Harry was very adamant about your seating arrangement when the car got too cramped, eagerly offering up his lap as a seat replacement for you. You of course took it, and you’ve spent the whole ride fighting your body’s natural reaction to his little teasing touches.

You want to kill him by the time you finally arrive at the party. He knew exactly what he was doing in that car, he knows the effect his touches have on you and you know he’s doing this as “payback” for how you’re torturing him in your outfit.

It’s not hard to make your rounds and do all the socializing that you’ve equipped yourself for before Harry is immediately stealing you away from people.

“Wanna dance with you.” is all he says, dragging you to the dancefloor. You look around as you guys settle, the vibe around is nothing short of raunchy. Looking at all of the other couples around you, you can tell that they all want to take each other home and tear each other’s clothes off. After cooling off with a couple drinks and conversations, you weren’t exactly in that mindset anymore, but you have a feeling that Harry is about to take you right back there.

His hands smooth down your waist, boldly cupping your ass and he slowly grinds against him to the rhythm of the song, you feel his gentle breath before you hear his voice. “You’re killing me, petal. Been picturing tearing this dress off of you all. Fucking. Night.”

Your breath catches in your throat and you let his hands lead you as you push your head further into his neck, “M’not doing anything though. What’s got you this worked up?” You pout at him condescendingly. He knows feigning innocence when he’s needy like this is your favorite thing to do. It makes you feel a sort of power that you usually don’t get with him to hear him say that you make him into a mess.

“You fucking know, baby. You know what you’re doing to me.” he’s whining out his words at this point, and you thank god that the music is as loud as it is so everyone else can’t hear how this man is falling apart in your hands.

“Can’t think of anything else. The only thought in my mind is watching you come on my cock. God it’d be so easy to just fuck you right here. Know you’ve already made a mess of yourself. It’d be so easy to give you what I know you need right now.”

You’re panting at this point, delirious with pleasure. It should be illegal the way he can talk you into almost anything with that voice. You don’t care about anything or anyone else around you, all you can think about is how desperately you need him to quell that ache that’s building inside you.

“Fuck. Take me home. Take me home right now, H.”

As soon as he hears you he’s moving. He doesn’t even bother to let your friends know where you’re going. He just drags you outside and starts tapping on his phone to get you guys an uber.

The ride to his house is tortuous. He sits you in his lap almost immediately and his hands find a home on your hips, making a point to drag you slowly back and forth across his thigh.

Every roll against his thigh drives you further and further into oblivion and you don’t think you can wait any longer to get what you so desperately need. You suppose you’ll let him have his fun though, his little taste of “payback” for how bad he’s been aching this whole night.

The second the driver stops, it’s like Harry couldn’t get you off of his lap fast enough (something you never thought you’d say) and he’s dragging you up to the house. He wanted to kiss you as soon as you got out of the car but he knew you wouldn’t appreciate doing that in front of the driver. No matter how turned on you are.

As soon as you guys step into the house, he closes the door behind him and his lips are already on you. Your mind is instantly turned into mush with the way he claims your lips. It’s like he can’t even wait long enough to get you upstairs. He’s immediately getting down on his knees and kissing and sucking his way up your thighs, “so fucking beautiful and soft. You feel like a fucking dream. Dreamy girl.”

He trails his hands slowly upwards and takes a hold of your thin lace panties. Although he pulls them down gently, you can see the impatience in his eyes and feel it in his grip. He’s beginning to lose his resolve and it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

Your skirt is pushed up and resting on your hips before you can blink. The way you’ve been pressing your thighs together since you got in the house has been deemed useless when he forcefully pushes them apart, his hands gripping the flesh so hard you fear it might leave marks.

“Wanna feel you come on my tongue. Missed it so much. Will you let me?” he sucks marks that only the two of you will be able to see in your inner thighs. You can barely find it in you to answer his question. Everything about the way he’s touching you, to his voice, to the smell of his cologne and your arousal mixed together is heightening all of your senses and making your brain short circuit.

You nod hoping that would be enough, but you should’ve known better. “Words. You know better, baby.” he tsks, continuing his kisses along your sensitive skin.

“Yes, yes. Please.” Is all you can manage to get out. The second the first yes leaves your lips, his mouth is exactly where you need it the most. He’s not wasting any time tonight, getting straight to the point of making you lose yourself on his tongue. Usually he drags it out, edges you or teases you with his tongue, but he’s aching so bad. He needs to be inside you before he loses his mind.

His tongue swirls messily against your clit and you’re so sensitive that you tense with almost every stroke. He’s moaning against you in a way that you would find obnoxious if it wasn’t him, but because it is him, it just adds to your pleasure. He’s behaving as if he’s a man starved. As if he’s been a dessert and you’re that stream of water that he’s been yearning for.

You tangle your hand into his hair and let your head tip back against the door. You can’t be bothered to worry about the volume of the moans you’re letting out and how they travel through the empty house. You’re too consumed in how good he’s making you feel. That’s the good thing about having a sexual partner like this. You’ve had so much time together and he’s made the most diligent effort to learn your body. He knows every signal, every tick, every indication. And he uses it all to his advantage.

You sob lowly when he slides his fingers into your heat, immediately curling them up to hit that spot that makes you shake. You pull your head off of the door to look down at him, only to find his eyes already on you. His intense green eyes bore into yours and it’s almost as if they’re communicating with your eyes. He urges you to let go for him with that unspoken language that you’re now fluent in.

He fucks you deep with his fingers while his tongue continues it’s very skillful ministrations. Every time he moans into your cunt the vibrations just push you further and further into bliss and you’re almost embarrassed with how close you are so quickly. The sounds you’re making are bordering on pornagraphic when you start clenching down hard on his fingers you know you’re a goner.

He pulls away to egg you on with his voice, “there you go, baby. Getting so fucking tight for me.” you moan at his words and nod. As much as you love the way his tongue was working magic on you, the one thing that will always get you to fall over the edge is his voice.

He’s evil, you decide. He’s evil for the way he toys with your body like he owns it. And at this point, he does own it.

His tongue is back on your clit to offer you that final push off of the edge, he flicks his tongue and sucks with a pressure that you can only describe as mind numbing. Every movement he makes just makes the release that’s brewing even stronger.

A complete mess of syllables leaves your bitten lips as the white hot pleasure consumes you. It feels like a tidal wave swallows you up in its strength and you see no way of coming up for air. You choke out a series of moans that Harry only groans at while he continues to softly lick at your clit and thrust his fingers inside you, like he intends to keep you under.

The hands that were in his hair tug hard as the soft licks start to become a little too much for you to handle. A slightly higher pitched sound leaves him and he relents reluctantly, “can never get enough of your cunt, petal. Never.” He leaves wet kisses all over your thighs in between more praises that you barely register with all the pleasure swimming in your mind.

One thing you can register though, is how bad you need him inside you, “take me upstairs, Harry.”

He stands up almost immediately at that, and he smirks before leaning down to pick you up bridal style. You giggle at his antics and he only chuckles, kissing your cheek as he leads you two up the stairs.

November 23, Thanksgiving.

Thanksgiving is by far your favorite holiday. The way you get to spend time with your family, the (amazing) food, just the atmosphere of being happy and thankful with people you love, you look forward to it every year. You’re chilling next to your sister on the couch at your parents house, laughing at one of your dad’s jokes.

You guys have already eaten and you're completely full and sated as you enjoy the company of your family.

The amount of times you’ve checked your phone should be considered embarrassing, but you can’t find it in yourself to stop. You invited Harry over for dinner. And it’s really no big deal, he’s been your friend for a while, long before the whole arrangement started. And he’s met your family so many times that they wouldn’t even bat an eye. His family lives in London and he’s in the U.S. for work so he’s come over for Thanksgiving plenty of times.

You feel a nudge on your shoulder and you look over at your sister who has a soft knowing smirk on her face.

Uh oh. You know that expression.

You give her a deadpanned look, “what?”

Her smile grows at the way you can read her so well and you urge her with your eyes to tell you what’s on her mind.

“So…what’s going with you and Harry?” her eyes are squinted in that specific way that tells you that she knows exactly what’s going on with you and Harry, she just wants to hear you say it. “It’s just…you guys have been posting each other a lot, tagging each other in posts and all that. And the last time I saw you guys, you seemed super domestic.”

You don’t doubt that. Even though you and Harry still place yourselves under the “friends with benefits” label, you guys have gotten way closer emotionally. You’re always together now. You sleep over at his house almost every night, sometimes without even sleeping together. You guys have been glued at the hip ever since Halloween. And it’s great, honestly. It feels great.

“It’s nothing, it’s just…” you shrug your shoulders and a sheepish look graces your face, “I think I sort of…like him”

Your sister can barely register what you said before your head is snapping to the sound of the doorbell ringing. You look back at your sister and she smirks at you softly with a soft raise of her eyebrow.

Your mom gets up to open it and immediately shrieks in surprise, “Harry! I had no idea you were coming!” you smile at the genuine joy in her voice and then at Harry’s voice when he speaks, “she didn’t tell you I was coming?” You can hear the smile in his voice and it immediately brings the one you were trying to hide back on your face.

“And you brought a date!” your mom exclaims.

Your smile drops.

Your heart follows your smile and you immediately feel a pit deep in your stomach that twists and twists until you can’t take it anymore.

A hot wave of embarrassment comes next when your sister tenses next to you. You had just told her that you actually might like someone, that you actually might like Harry. And here he is with a date.

Your mom steps aside to let them in and your stomach twists even tighter. She’s beautiful. And you’re sure she’s kind and charismatic and perfect and everything Harry would want and deserve in a woman.

You don’t even wanna see the look on your sister’s face, you don’t want to see the pity in her eyes when she realizes that you’re completely hopeless.

You feel tears gathering in your waterline and you blink them away. You almost want to feel angry. He brought her here? At your parents house? You know that technically you two don’t owe each other anything but there’s a level of respect that you figure one is supposed to have when sleeping with someone.

You suddenly feel scared to see his face. You wonder if he’ll look guilty, or completely indifferent. You honestly don’t know which one is worse.

You’re even more nervous that he’ll see your face and realize how much this is hurting you. How much it’s hurting you to realize that, although you two are friends, he never felt for you what you felt for him. That you were just a warm body he used when he needed it, and you happily offered it to him. Over and over.

A plethora of emotions hit you at once, and after you cycle through confusion, sadness, and anger, you just feel stupid.

Your mom says your name and you’re very harshly snapped out of your thoughts, “figured you’d surprise us for the holiday, huh?” your mom has the most gentle smile on your face and it almost makes you crumble more. You look over to your mom and you immediately feel his intense gaze on you. That same intense gaze that used to make you melt only makes all of your muscles seize in the worst way at this very moment. You refuse to meet his eyes cause you know that if you do, you’ll break.

You force a smile and pray that it’s not too obvious how you’re not even acknowledging him, “guess so, mom.”

You and your sister share a look and you communicate without words that she’ll cover for you if you have to leave. She nods at you with a knowing look and you return the look, mentally preparing yourself to lie to everyone here and say you have to go.

You pick your stuff up and get up to walk towards the door. “Harry,” you address him for the first time since he came, “thank you so much for coming. I didn’t think you’d actually make it.”

He furrows his brows and leans towards you, extending his arm out to pull you into an awkward side hug, “of course I’d make it.” you feel yourself tense as you feel his touch and you hope he doesn’t notice. You nod against his shoulder and sigh. His cologne envelopes your senses and you bask in the comfort of his warm hug. You’re utterly torn between the two feelings it offers you, a feeling of discomfort conflicting with a feeling of home.

“How are you? You look lovely.” he kisses your cheek and the all too familiar feeling of his stubble rubbing against your skin threatens to bring a new wave of tears to your eyes.

“I’m fine–” you barely get the words out before he’s interrupting you. A huge smile graces his face and he looks down at the girl he’s got his arm around, squeezing her shoulder gently before he speaks and you already know what he’s going to say.

“I want you to meet—”

You can’t do it.

“I’d love to talk but I’ve got a work emergency and I really need to go.” you watch his face drop. His eyebrows furrow tightly together and a frown graces his face. You can tell he’s confused, he knows that you would never leave Thanksgiving early for any work emergency and you would never leave as soon as he shows up.

You go to walk but his hand leaves his date like he’s been burned by her skin and he reaches out for you, grabbing your arm tight. His eyes are swimming with an expression you can’t quite place and he squeezes your arm with a quick pulse, “where’re you going? I just got here.” his voice dips and if you didn’t know any better you’d think he’s hurt by you leaving. Right now you can’t even begin to worry about him being hurt with the pain radiating in your chest right now.

“S’work, H. I’m really sorry,” you turn to address the girl next to him, “it’s really nice to meet you. I’m sorry we couldn’t talk more.” and with that you’re out of there before anyone can say anything else. As soon as the door shuts behind you, you take a deep, shaky breath and bring your hand up to your neck to soothe the ache that’s developing in your jaw from holding in your tears.

You decide then and there that you need to get it together. Harry doesn’t owe you anything, you guys are strictly friends with benefits. You weren’t supposed to get attached and caught up in the strings. You’ll try your absolute best to be a mature adult about this and not take your pain out on him cause as much as this hurts you, he doesn’t deserve to be treated the way you treat people when you’re hurt.

And with that decision, you come to another. You need some time apart from Harry.

December 24, Christmas Eve.

Christmas Eve. Another one of your favorites. The anticipation and festive energy in the air felt palpable and everywhere you looked there was joy. The land outside was covered in white and the air felt crisp and cold. You loved the kind of air where it gave you little goosebumps as soon as you stepped outside.

You’re watching a cheesy romantic Christmas movie, simultaneously loving and hating it. Loving it because it’s adorable and makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, hating it because you definitely wish that the leads were you and Harry and it’s making you want to die.

Just as the male lead tells the female lead how much he’s really been crushing on her the whole time they’ve been trying to save her mom’s restaurant, your phone begins to buzz. Unfortunately for you, it’s been buzzing all day.

Harry.

Over and over again.

He’s been texting and calling and truthfully, he actually sounds really concerned.

Harry 11/28/23

Hey petal. Been trying to reach you for a bit. Is everything okay? We good?

Harry 12/1/23

Miss you. Text me.

Harry 12/3/23

Answer meeee please?

Harry 12/7/23

Feel like you’re avoiding me.

Harry 12/7/23

Did I do something? I’m sorry if I did.

Harry 12/14/23

Just please let me know you’re alright. I’m getting worried.

Harry 12/17/23 Starting to think that you’re dead.

Harry 12/22/23

I’m gonna stop bothering you now. But I miss you. Please text me back.

Harry 12/24/23

Okay I lied about the bothering thing. I need to see you and I’m really worried and if you’re dead I’m gonna ask the police to do a wellness check. So answer me.

The sheer desperation in his texts almost broke you, but for all you know he just misses the sex, and the thought of that breaks you even more.

You grab the pillow on your couch and thrust it up to your face to scream into it. The second you get done screaming you hear your doorbell and you jump. You wonder who in their right mind would be out in this weather but you pause your movie and go to open it nonetheless.

What you didn’t expect was a Harry Styles covered in snow at your door.

“Hey...can I come in? S’snowing like really hard.” It breaks your heart a little the way he added that last bit in, like you would refuse him otherwise.

“Of course. Do you want any tea?” you ask, trying to avoid the elephant in the room in case that’s not why he came here.

“No I’m― I came here to um…talk.”

Fuck.

“Okay.” You giggle, trying to lighten the mood but his sullen expression stays put.

“I’m still gonna start the kettle in case you want any―”

“Why’re you pulling away from me?” he blurts out.

“Wha―”

“I literally haven’t spoken to you in weeks. Have I done something wrong? I―I” he pauses to compose himself and your frown deepens, “I miss you. Miss you so much and I just wanted to make sure we were okay.”

You push yourself away from the couch and walk up to him, making sure to keep eye contact knowing how important it is to him,”of course we are, H.”

“You haven’t spoken to me in like a mo―”

“Shh, shh. Was just swamped with work. You know how I get all in my head.” You know you shouldn’t be lying to him, you really shouldn’t. But the way he’s talking like the idea of you purposely ignoring him breaks him, you don’t have it in you to let him suffer any longer.

He nods and you smile at him, bringing your hands up to tangle in his hair, “we’re okay. I promise.”

“Promise?” he whispers and your heart flutters.

“Yeah.” You hate lying to his face.

You start your steps to go to the kitchen but his grip on your wrist pulls you back, nearly crashing into his chest.

“Want a kiss, please.” his voice never leaves that soft whisper. You lean in to give him a soft kiss, suddenly feeling a pit in your stomach that only deepens the closer you get to him. You’ve always had a bad habit of putting someone’s comfort over yours.

“Do you want tea?” you whisper against his lips.

“Always want some fuckin’ tea.” he says with a smirk and a quiet chuckle, that joyful inflection back in his voice and that familiar sparkle back in his eyes.

When you step out of the kitchen with the tea he’s sitting on the couch in a relaxed manner, picking at the loose strings in your pillows and watching the movie you have on. His lips stretch in a gentle smile when he sees you and you force yourself to return it.

You sit down next to him and he places his hand softly on your thigh, leaning over to you to place a soft kiss on your jaw. He trails more and more down to your neck and you feel your stomach twist. Your hand shoots to his chest to halt any further movement and you rush out words in a short breath, “We can’t.” There’s a beat of silence. He backs away quickly to not make you uncomfortable and you sigh and whisper, “...I can’t”

Your eyes flick up to meet his gaze and you can tell that without an explanation your rejection stings him a little.

“Don’t you have like…a thing? With that girl you brought to Thanksgiving?” you watch his face twist tightly in confusion and you can’t bear to hear him make excuses or lie to you so you just continue to ramble, “does she even know that you’re sleeping with other people? With me? Like if I was your girlfriend I’d be pretty fucking pissed that you’re over here and touching me after bringing her to Thanksgiving of all places—”

“Shut up.” He cuts off your ramble sharply. You suck in a breath at his tone (and after speaking all those words without a break) and your chest tightens at his stern expression.

“W-what?” you fumble through the word. Never in your life have you seen him this angry. He’s looking at you with a gaze that can only be described as absolutely vexed.

“That’s why you’ve been avoiding me?” If there’s one thing Harry is, it’s smart. He’s absolutely not an idiot. But you absolutely are for not realizing just how well he knows you, “you’ve barely spoken to me for a month. Didn’t answer my calls, texts, not going out when you know I’d be there because you thought I’d betray your trust like that and just pop up one day with a fucking girlfriend!?” You can tell that he’s trying to control his volume and anger. The way his fist and jaw is clenched is an obvious indication.

“Well what was I supposed to think, Harry? You brought her and she was beautiful and you had your hand on her wai–”

“And you weren’t gonna let me explain myself!? I’d never do that to you. It was—We–we had a deal!” he exclaims incredulously, ducking down to meet your eyes when you try and look away.

“I know we had a deal, H. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions—” He interrupts you again and you sigh deeply.

“And I can’t believe that you would think…I thought it was different…I thought you…” he trails off, his voice getting softer as his speaking slows.

“You thought I what?” you ask urgently. He looks down at his hands and picks at the nail on his thumb. You frown softly, “you thought I what, H?”

His expression almost looks tortured as he trains his gaze on his fingers. You suddenly feel terrible. You ignored him for so long all over a simple misunderstanding. You think back to the moment that it all happened and figure you might have avoided all of this if you just let him properly introduce her like he was trying to. Your lip trembles softly at the idea of hurting him and he sighs.

“I thought you felt the same way as I did. I thought it wasn’t just a deal to you.” he admisses so very quietly. So quiet that if the TV was any louder you wouldn’t have heard it. His brows are tightly knit together and his lips are turned down into a deep pout.

Harry almost regretted it when he said it. He knows that if you truly don’t feel the same, it’ll never go back to the way it was, and he’ll lose the person he cares about the most. He’ll lose the person he loves the most. His heart squeezes painfully in his chest and he avoids looking up at your expression in fear that your expression will be less than kind.

He speaks before you can even process what he just said, “Ellie’s my cousin.” he breathes out a humorless laugh, “the girl I brought to Thanksgiving. I thought you’d love her.” the soft tone and volume of his voice remains constant.

You feel like your brain just short circuited. Harry just told you that he actually has feelings for you. That all this time he’s been thinking about you in the same way that you’ve been thinking about him. All this time.

And you’re sitting here like an idiot letting him stew in confusion and not saying a word.

“Oh my god.” you gasp like you’ve suddenly been slapped back into reality. Your hands rush over to him like they have a mind of their own with thoughts that tell them that they need to be close to him. You grasp his face in your hands and pull his head up so you can look into his eyes.

“H.” you sigh. He watches your mouth form around the word and he decides right then and there that no matter what you’re going to say next, no matter if you reject him and tell him you could never see him that way, you will always make him weak. Looking into your eyes will always break and mend him at the same time, the sound of you saying his name will always make him crumble.

“Of course I feel the same way. Are you kidding? I thought that you didn’t.” you finally, finally admit. It immediately feels like a giant weight has been lifted off of your chest and you almost wanna cry at how freeing it feels.

“Are you serious?” he laughs, although you can see that his eyes are a bit glossy. You pout softly, nodding and leaning down to envelop his lips in yours.

“I’ve always needed you, petal. Even before the sex. I need you to know that.” he speaks with conviction. He needs you to know that it’s not just the sex muddling his brain and making him attached. He really truly loves you. Everything about you.

“I know, I know H.” you nod again.

“You’ve got no fuckin’ idea how much I missed you, petal. No clue.” His voice is thick with emotion, but also filled with that familiar lust that you missed so much.

You scoot closer to him on the couch and throw your legs around his lap to straddle him, “feel like showing me?”

He chuckles darkly, his hands quickly landing on your waist. His mouth closes to form into a smirk when you blatantly offer your body up for him like this. A soft noise leaves you in reaction to the tight grip he has on your waist.

Your hips take on a mind of their own when they start to shift against him. A soft hiss followed by a groan leaves his lips. It’s like your lips are magnets the way you can’t keep them away from each other. He leans up to kiss you and the movement of your hips intensifies.

You can see it in his eyes that he’s thinking of some sort of punishment to sort out your behavior of the past month. The intensity in his expression makes you feel a sort of anxiousness that throws you for a loop. You feel a little scared, but all the excitement and anticipation just overrides that tiny bit of fear.

He leans closer to you to leave open mouthed kisses all over the exposed skin of your chest, he kisses until he reaches the fabric of your shirt and his hand falls to your ass, gripping it tightly while urging you to continue the movement of your hips against him.

“Gonna have to teach you a lesson it seems.” His voice is husky and deep when he speaks, you know that he has the capacity to absolutely ruin you tonight, and you know that he will.

He taps your hip with his fingers, his usual signal that he needs you to stand up. Your brows furrow in confusion briefly, but the confusion is gone as soon as it came when he speaks.

“Do me a favor, honey?”

You nod eagerly.

“Get out that vibrator you’ve got in your dresser, clothes off and wait for me in your room.” His voice held a velvety, sensual tone, and combined with what he said, you’re nearly weak in the knees. When you stand there for a moment, having a bit of trouble getting your body to move as fast as your brain, he urges you with a raise of his eyebrow and you immediately spring into action.

You hear his quiet murmur of “good girl” as you start to walk to your room. Every nerve in your body is buzzing with anticipation. Harry is already amazing in the bedroom with just him, imagining the pleasure you’ll feel with him and the toy is making you squeeze your thighs together and your eyes shut as you dwell in your thoughts.

You sat down on your bed (very submissively, you hope it’ll get you some brownie points) with your vibrator laying next to you. Just when you’re starting to get impatient, the door opens with Harry on the other side of it. There’s a very distinct hunger in his eyes as he looks at you, as his gaze travels the length of your body. You can tell he appreciates the way you’re sitting.

He doesn’t waste any time walking towards you and kneeling until his knees touch the floor and he’s level with where you need him the most. His hands find purchase on your thighs, immediately squeezing and prodding at them like he’s playing with his favorite toy (which he technically is), “you’re so good for me, petal. Doing as I asked.”

His eyes flick up to yours after he speaks, and the eye contact, especially when he’s got that look going, makes you melt. You’re hyper aware of the tortuous way his hands are trailing upwards. He knows the way his touch works you up no matter where it is, and he’s using it to his advantage.

A sharp gasp rips from your throat when he spreads your thighs apart. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve gotten from just the anticipation and thought of what he’s going to do to you. The groan that he let out once he saw what a mess you’ve made is an indication that he was pleased.

“Jesus, petal. Look what you’ve done…” he stares at your center with an expression of deep desire as he reaches out a hand to trail two fingers through your folds, collecting your arousal on his fingertips, “messing up your sheets, baby. This all for me?”

You can’t help but obediently nod, meeting his eyes with a pleading look, “only for you, promise. Please?”

His face is painted with an expression of faux confusion, that condescending look that makes you clench around nothing and tip your head up to the ceiling in frustration. You know from that look this is going to be harder than you thought. He’s in the mood to tease. He’s going to break you.

“Please? Please what, baby. What do you need from me?” You’re impressed by the way he’s looking at you like he’s actually concerned and wondering what you want, and although you know it’s an act and he’s not asking because he truly plans on giving it to you, you still give in.

“Touch me, Harry. Need it.” You should be embarrassed at the whiny inflection in your voice as you beg him, but you can’t find it in yourself to feel shame when you’re aching as bad as you are.

“You need it?” He teases and you know even he’s getting tired of this waiting game because his expression has melted down into a lazy grin, enjoying the way he’s torturing you.

You can tell that he isn’t exactly mad any more, which you’re grateful for. He’s just enjoying toying with the body that he knows so well.

You scoff and roll your eyes, pushing your hips towards him needily. It earns you a dark chuckle and a sigh, “alright, alright.”

Without leaving his position on his knees, he reaches for the vibrator. Before you can beg any more, he’s switching it on and bringing it down to where you need it the most. He doesn’t even offer up a warning before he’s placing it directly on your clit, ripping a shocked moan from your throat.

“Yeah?” His voice is taunting and low, and if the vibrator was any louder you wouldn’t be able to hear him, but it still hits you right in the gut like his voice usually does when he talks to you like this, “is that good? Right here?”

“Fuck, yes. Stay right there.” you stutter through your words in a way that you know he’ll tease you for later, but you don’t have the brain capacity to care right now. All you can think about and feel is him, that vibrator on your clit, the way he’s talking.

When he presses it harder against you, you breathe in deeply, exhaling in a whiney moan. He’s making you unravel at a quick and embarrassing pace and the sensations are overwhelming you. Your hips start to shift in tandem with the way he’s slowly rubbing the head of the vibrator back and forth against your clit, the sounds that leave your throat travel straight to his cock that’s still confined in his pants. He growls lowly when he notices your thighs start to shake and leans closer to suck kisses into them, “close already? Fuck look at that, honey…” he’s referring to the way your arousal is coating the toy. He almost feels tempted to bring it to his lips and clean it off, “this dreamy cunt needed it so bad, hm?”

You couldn’t respond even if you tried, your brain a mess of syllables and sounds that you’re meant to put together. All you can manage is a string of whimpers as you get closer and closer to your peak.

Harry watches your every move, so in tune with every twitch of your body and every sound you make. He moans along with you as you come undone, making sure to keep the toy right where it’s been to help you ride it out, anything to keep making his girl feel good.

You reach for his hand to ground you and he quickly gives you what you need, interlocking your fingers and groaning when you squeeze tightly, “there you go…fuck.”

You push yourself away from the toy when it becomes too much as best as you can, desperate to escape the onslaught of overstimulation and he chuckles, pulling the toy off of you. You can barely grip your bearings as he brings the toy to his lips to clean off with his tongue, he moans needily when he tastes you and squeezes your hand as if to say he’s proud of you.

He puts the toy down next to you and starts to kiss his way up your body. Mumbling little words of encouragement and praise on his journey to your lips.

“Did such a good job.”

“M’so proud of you.”

“You come so pretty.”

“So beautiful.”

When you guys are face to face he pinches your lips with his fingers before he leans down to kiss you, moaning into the kiss since he was deprived of them in the short time that he was making you come.

“Hi.” You breathe out in a chuckle, your mind still muddled from the post climactic haze. He returns your greeting, his voice soft and tender with an adoration filled expression on his face.

“Aren’t you like–” you motion your head downwards to refer to the way he’s straining in his pants and a chuckle leaves his lips. He nods gently, still staring at you with that fond look in his eye.

“Mhm.” he mumbles. He repositions himself so he can take off his clothes and after he teases you for nearly drooling over his abs, comes back down to rest against you so that your chests are touching, “you wanna keep going?”

You know he’s asking to be respectful, but you can also tell that if you say no he’d probably cry. You can feel how hard he is against your thigh and see the strain in his expression. He subtly shifts his hips every so often against your skin and you have to fight back a smirk at how needy he is.

You nod before you remember his thing about verbal consent and you mumble out a soft yes. As soon as he has your permission, he’s connecting your lips and lining up his tip with your entrance. He drags his tip back and forth against you, your body twitching in sensitivity every time he passes over your clit.

A guttural groan leaves him as he finally fills you, a groan that melts into a whine as you clench down around him tightly, forcing yourself to adjust to the burning stretch that you’ve missed so much.

“Fuck, I missed you.” The sound of his voice and the sounds he’s making just make you clench down tighter around him, “how do you always feel this fucking good? Squeezing me like a vice, pretty.”

He sets a rhythm that has him hitting that spot inside you that makes you melt every time, somehow even though he’s been aching in his pants for so long his focus still remains solely on bringing you pleasure, making you feel good, “s’that okay, sweet girl. S’it good for you? Am I giving this needy cunt what it needs?”

You know he doesn’t expect you to respond but he speaks anyway. He’s well aware of the effect his voice has on you.His deliberate thrusts gain more momentum with every reaction you give him. He truly feeds on your pleasure. It’s as if he suddenly remembers the emotional turmoil you forced the both of you to go through the past month, because his thrusts begin to get more purposeful. Rougher, more pointed motions of his hips rip noises from you that you’re sure is gonna give you a sore throat later.

His hand wraps around your throat in a firm grip, leaning down to grit words out into your ear, “you’re mine, understand that? You’re mine. And I’m yours. No one else’s. I belong to you, petal. Just you.”

He fights the strong pull in his chest that tells him to tell you how he really feels, how in love he is with you. How you consume his every thought and how your touch is unlike any other touch he’s ever felt. From the first time he was already addicted. You’re unlike anyone else that he’s ever met, you feel like home.

The force of his thrusts knock all of the air out of your lungs, and all you can do is nod and mumble out an agreement. You need to be his. There might not be anything that you want more right now. Hearing him confess his feelings for you right now as he’s fucking you into oblivion do all the right things for you, and like clockwork, he immediately recognizes what you need and switches back on the vibrator, bringing it right back down to your clit.

“Fuck that’s it, baby. Am I fucking you right, petal? Yeah? Fucking show me then. Come for me.” He presses the toy harder against you and rolls his hips in just the perfect way that makes him rub against that perfect spot inside you and you realize now that he made good on his word of teaching you a lesson. You are sufficiently taught.

He whines loudly at the feeling of you coming around him, mumbling out praises and thank you’s as you milk him for everything he’s worth, “shit, m’gonna fucking come. Fuck keep cumming, baby. Keep fucking squeezing me like that–” his words are cut off with a series of noises that you know is going replay in your head on loop.

He rides out his pleasure with slow, lazy thrusts, hiding his face in your neck as he tries to cope with all the pleasure that’s wracking through his body. You tangle your hands in his hair to offer him some comfort, both of you breathing heavily. He continues to mumble praises into your damp skin, filling you with a warm fuzzy feeling that transcends anything you’ve ever felt before.

When he catches his breath he turns his head to rest it on your shoulder and speaks, “you know I meant it right?”

“Meant what?”

“I’m yours. And you’re mine.”

December 31st, New Years Eve.

Your friend’s makeshift bar is bustling and you chuckle as the poor untrained bartender is trying to grapple with it all. You’re sipping slowly at a glass of champagne when you feel a strong arm link around your waist.

“Mm hi baby.” his deep voice reverberates through your entire body as he speaks directly into your ear. You melt into his grasp and your lips break into a smile that you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

“Harry.” you say cheekily as your hands fall to hold onto his arm. He had just come back from an absolute killer karaoke performance next to your friend’s TV. The whole entire house was cheering for him as he belted out an incredible rendition of “Hopelessly Devoted to You”. Ever the performer, your boyfriend is, “you were amazing. As always.” you giggle and he presses a messy, wet kiss to your cheeks.

He is absolutely glowing tonight. Surrounded by his family, friends, and you. He’s beyond ready to spend the next year being annoyingly in love with you and attached to your hip. In fact, that’s the thing he’s looking forward to the most about the new year, going through every milestone, change, and holiday with the love of his life.

“Always strokin’ m’ego, petal. Looove you.” you laugh loudly at how inebriated he is and lean your head back against his shoulder to get closer to him.

“I love you too, H. I think you’re cut off though.” you chuckle and you can hear the pout in his voice when he speaks.

“Wha’? Wha’s wrong with you? M’not even that drunk m’love.” The irony of his words slurring while he’s trying to convince you that he isn’t drunk isn’t lost on you. You turn around to face him and it’s like his expression melts into a smile when he looks at you.

You don’t know how you never noticed it before, the way he looks at you. He stares at you with so much awe, so much reverence. Ever since you’ve noticed it the first time, it’s the first thing that catches your attention when you guys are together. That damn look.

“Y’so pretty.” He brings his hand up to stroke your face with his thumb.

You turn your face to kiss his palm and he giggles childishly, mumbling something about it tickling.

It’s not long before the countdown starts. Harry and you look at each other in anticipation, wanting to commemorate the first time you guys expressed the affection for each other that’s only increased ten fold.

“I think New Years is m’favorite holiday.” he mumbles out, looking down at you with that familiar fond look.

“Yeah?” you giggle at his admission, “why’s that, H?”

“S’cause it’s the day that I finally got you.” You can barely register the cheers of happy new year before his lips are on yours, claiming them and making you his. You pull away reluctantly to breathe and smile at him when you speak.

“I think it’s my new favorite too, baby.”

#harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #harry styles smut #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles #harry styles fics #harry styles concept #harry styles au #harry styles fwb

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gguk-n · 5 months ago

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The Sky Between Us (Charles Leclerc x Reader)

Summary- Y/N is slowly trying to piece her life back together after Charles. She got the promotion she was eyeing. She could spend time with her family and friends but there always was this lingering feeling, like something was missing.

Series Masterlist

Chapter 2- The Lonely Sky

A couple months before the break up Y/N had been working on either changing jobs or working remotely so that she could move to Monaco. The company she worked at was short staffed so it would've only been possible in a year and a half or so. It was a long time but then again she believed that her and Charles could get through anything. Right now, she didn't feel that way anymore. The room was suffocating her. It took her some time to gather herself and book a ticket back home.

The next couple of months were a blur. Y/N put herself into her work. She spent all her time working over time and had fast-tracked herself into a double promotion. The company was happy to have her instead of the previous move. She was spear heading new and bigger projects. There were new hires she was training under her. She finally had all the time in the world to hang out with her friends and make impromptu coffee trips or girls nights. She didn't have to schedule her stuff around someone else.

But in the middle of the night, when she couldn't fall asleep, she would find herself lurking on her exes Instagram; she wanted to know if he was finally happy, away from her. She still kept up with the races whereas initially the sport was too boring for her. She watched all his videos that Ferrari uploaded. Deep down she knew that this was bad, but old habits die hard. On the day she got her promotion, she came home and propped up her phone with a picture of Charles on the screen and started talking as if they were on call. She told him about the promotion and how the day went. She told him about the new hires she was in-charge of. She told the picture of a happy Charles from her trip to Monaco during Christmas everything, as tears streamed down her face; eyes red, voice hoarse, fingers tremblings. Whenever she couldn't fall asleep, she'd have his interviews playing to fall asleep to his voice.

Y/N knew this wasn't helping her heal, so she did what she knew best; called Amy, her best friend. Amy knew how much Y/N loved Charles, you could see it in her eyes, you still can. It was a few days after Christmas that Y/N finally unfollowed Charles from all her socials. She moved all their pictures into a USB drive, deleting those would still take some time but Amy was happy with all the progress. All of Charles's stuff and gifts made their way into the storage room, Amy would ship it back to him in a while, she thought. The house started to look like Y/N's home and not remnants of Charles Leclerc.

After her second promotion, instead to talking to a picture, Y/N called Amy and screamed her lungs out in excitement about the new position and the pay raise. She called her parents, who couldn't have been more proud. They had seen the mess she was after Charles and all they wanted was their bubbly little baby girl back. She went on a small weekend getaway with her parents to celebrate. She had even finally stopped keeping up with the F1 races as a final good bye to Charles.

In March, she was in Australia, for work. Her company was starting a new branch there and wanted her to train the employee and help the team set up. Having all the time in the world and an opportunity to explore a new country, Y/N took them up on their offer. A couple of her work friends had also come along with her, so the trip wasn't only work, it was leisure too. The month in Australia was fun; going out to eat, road trips over the weekend, beach trips. This was healing her and she knew she needed this.

Towards the end of March, her team was almost done with the project and could leave by the first or second week of April. To celebrate, every one had gone out for dinner. The restaurant was a little posh, but it was ok to shell out every once in a while. The dinner was wonderful and filled with laughter. As Y/N was about to take a bite out of her dessert, someone tapped her shoulder. She turned around to find her ex's team mate, Carlos standing there with a smile. Her work friends looked shocked. She stood up and greeted Carlos with a hug. "It has been so long Carlos, how have you been?" she asked. "I've been good, just won the GP this weekend, so we're getting dinner and then heading out to celebrate." He said. "Congratulations!! I don't think I congratulated you for your Singapore win either, so, why not I treat you sometime you are free?" Y/N suggested. "That sounds wonderful, maybe you can come celebrate this win with us. After dinner we are going out drinking." Carlos said tentatively. As if on queue when Y/N was about to reject the offer, not wanting to run into her ex, she sees him; the bane of her existence, their eyes meet for a split second but she quickly moved her attention back to Carlos. "You know it won't be possible, but anytime you're in town let me know. Dinner's on me." Y/N said. "Did you move?" Carlos questioned. "No no, I'm here for work. I'll be here for a couple more weeks I guess." Y/N replied. Charles kept his distance until, Carlos went in for a hug; he was next to Carlos in a moment, "Well, take care. We should hangout sometime." Carlos whispered and pulled away. "Hi, Y/N, how have you been?" Charles asked awkwardly while rubbing his neck. "I've been good, what about you?" Y/N said with a weak smile. "Good, it was nice meeting you, see you later." Charles said while leaving with Carlos. There were a lot of things he wanted to say but he didn't feel like he deserved to.

Y/N colleagues couldn't stop talking about Charles and Carlos until, one of them nudged them to shut up since Charles was Y/N's ex.

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eth3real-ess3nce · 1 year ago

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PICK A ♡ PILE - THREE MONTH LOVE FORECAST

Top left (1) , Top right (2) , Bottom left (3) , Bottom right (4)

Enjoy!

PILE 1

This reading is meant for you if one of more of these apply: ♡ you have been planning your Christmas holidays (2-3 months prior) ♡ you were born in March or April ♡ life path 3 6 or 8 ♡ someone close to you (or you) is named Christina ♡ summer is your favourite season ♡ you hate coffee ♡ it's your last year of high school or college ♡ you own a cat ♡ you are from Asia or dream of visiting Asia / Eastern Asia ♡ you love Starbucks ♡ you see angel number 333 ♡ you used to love Bratz or Monster high ♡ I see you regaining your confidence, how lovely! Many of you have been thinking about making changes to your appearance & you will make these thoughts come true. You will be PAMPERED by the universe. Feels good to finally spoil yourself, huh? Totally! And because of the radiance your glow up offers you, you are going to attract multiple "knights" who will want to add to it. I see material gifts, thoroughly planned dates and tokens of appreciation in your future. Many of you will be meeting new potential love interests during Christmas holidays. Please be careful of lovebombers. Now it isn't the case for everybody of course, since it's a collective reading. But if you notice that someone is making big promises early on and you feel uncomfortable with it, listen to your gut please. For many of you, there might be a third person you don't know about. And whether you know about the third person , please avoid getting entangled in such situations as it won't end well for you..I'm saying this with love Being showered with gifts and being treated like a queen is amazing , but just be aware of the hidden agendas. In cases a third person doesn't exist, they will attempt to lure you in by pretending that you are everything you ever asked for. Keep your lovely eyes open! ✨ 💗 Zodiac signs mostly present/related: Taurus, Leo, Cancer (sun, moon, rising or venus)

PILE 2

This reading is meant for you if one or more of these apply: ♡ Life path 5 or the number 5 on your birth date ♡ you are christian or muslim ♡ you wear earphones most of the time ♡ your favourite colour is a shade of blue ♡ you have sensitive stomach or food intolerances ♡ you drop things on the floor easily lately ♡ you like to draw, you use black&white filters on pictures a lot ♡ you live near a thrift shop ♡ your name ends with an "e" ♡ you have practised art before like drama or sculpting I feel that this is my heartbroken pile. I want to start by giving you a BIG warm hug and try to offer you the sweetest, most encouraging words possible today. I'm sensing some type of betrayal here whether it's literal or emotional. You tend to overgive to people close to you, even if they don't deserve it. You are tired of feeling taken advantage of. You feel that so much is owed to you and you definitely have the right to feel this way. You have been stepped over and over again. This is the time where you will be given the decision to put an end to these energies. Some of you might be still entangled in situations where they drain your soul and your light , others might have walked away but are still trying to pick up the pieces of their hearts & heal.. It seems very difficult for you, because making the decision to prioritise yourself & your needs is something brand new to you. You never thought you were supposed to put yourself first before ; to think that your physical mental, emotional wellbeing must come first. My dear pile 2, I know you are seeking a glimpse of hope in today's reading but I ought to be 100% honest with you. Dating is not what is meant for you right now. You are going through one of the deepest spiritual transformations in your life currently and I am not exaggerating. You are still learning how to perceive yourself as someone who is human with needs and desires, and NOT as a doormat for others to step conveniently on. "But is there hope for me to find love?" Yes. I see that happening later than sooner, though. When you will be coming out of your "winter" phase in your life ; with your healed scars and with confidence you never even imagined you'd possess before. The future holds endless, limitless blessings for you, pile 2. All the power & courage you're seeking is within. Zodiac signs mostly present/related: Pisces & Sagittarius (sun, moon, rising or venus)

PILE 3

This reading is meant for you if one or more of these apply: ♡ you have short hair ♡ life path 9 or have 9 on your date of birth ♡ one of your parents or siblings has aries placements ♡ you traveled inside USA in the past month ♡ you own a green jacket ♡ you are an athlete ♡ your chart is water or air dominant ♡ your name or last name starts with an "M" ♡ you have trouble sleeping lately ♡ you have neon lights in your bedroom ♡ you prefer older guys (I don't blame you) ♡ one of your favourite artists is Taylor swift, Jhene Aiko, Beyoncé ♡ you have tattoo(s) on your wrists/hands ♡ you stay home a lot lately Currently, it seems that you prefer your solitude. Many of you have given up on dating, you feel defeated in some way. You are extra picky with people (as you should) , as you can clearly see through them & make correct judgements about them often. Some of you might have been practicing abstinence, you are spiritually isolated and you are single by choice. I see you living your truth and stand firmly on your beliefs, even if it comes off harsh or weird to others. You don't care. 😉 In the next three months: Initially, you will stay this way. It's very likely that for some of you a past lover might return and even offer closure. You will have reflected a lot on past mistakes that were made & since you took time off the dating pool, you will be able to make healthy choices for yourself. And also, to say "no" to what doesn't serve you. Dear pile 3, I agree it's good to be highly selective, but I see here that many of you struggle when it comes to receiving. You might be looking at those videos where girls are getting princess treatment, flowers, etc. from their boyfriends and you deeply yearn for it. I know some of you won't even admit it 😅 But it's PERFECTLY fine to desire those things. You deserve to be properly loved & cherished. Allow this into your life when the opportunity presents itself, because I assure you it will. Something passionate is in the cards for you. You won't expect it and you won't expect with whom it will happen. You might know (or get to know) this person & not like them at first, but then sparks will begin to ignite. Mark my words. I'm sensing heavy air energy from this pile, woah. (gemini, libra, aquarius) sun moon rising venus. Because of your naturally detached nature, you don't fall in love with just anyone . This time, though , your inner child finally feels safe with someone. This is what your spirit has been asking for. A love that feels like home. Zodiac Signs mostly present/related: Pisces, Aries, Leo, Sagittarius, Libra (sun, moon, rising or venus)

PILE 4

This reading is meant for you if one or more of these apply: ♡ you braid your hair very often ♡ you're reading this while you are not in your hometown ♡ you were born in 2005,2006,1997 ♡ your father is an attorney ♡ you have leo placements ♡ you come from money ♡ you have heart(s) in your bio ♡ you have dark hair and light eyes ♡ you mostly wear boots ♡ you love Green Day ♡ your venus is in Aries ♡ you have nose ring(s) ♡ your name has two A's ♡ you ate cereal the same day you read this ♡ you have a pet with green eyes ♡ you own a necklace with a crystal/stone ♡ you're half European Hello hello! I must say, this pile is scaring me a bit. So wild! 😳 and so much secrecy... 👀 Pile 4 your love lives never cease to be boring. I can hear you thinking "why am I falling in love with the wrong people" "why do i have to make difficult choices in love". I see.... There are multiple energies coming through so bear with me as I'm going to cover them all ❤️ As I said, I sense so much secrecy here. But during the next 3 months everything will be revealed. Do you have feelings for someone you shouldn't, but you keep it to yourself? You will probably either tell them or they'll know. Someone from your friend group or class has a crush on you? You will definitely discover it. Do you have an affair behind someone's back? Baby.. it will be known. Does the person you are involved with know that you don't want something serious? It's time for them to learn... I don't seek to be strict, only honest and loving with you, so this is why I advise against being reckless, okay? With your heart and others'. One of the first messages that popped up, is **warning against unwanted pregnancies** so pretty please make sure you use protection if you don't plan on getting pregnant!!! 💗 Pile 4, in the next 3 months karma will be served, whether it's good or bad. If you worry, it's not too late to change how things are. You always have free will. It's just the overall energy that I am getting. For example, if you don't want your crush to know that you like them, then they won't. BUT, opportunities will present themselves.. just sayin'! It's your choice, always. Expect those changes to occur during the next mercury retrograde (December 13th if you're reading this before that date). I advise you to be on your best behaviour, pile 4!!! I know "forbidden love" situations & mind games are giving you adrenaline and meaning in life... but it's not the time to act up if you want to be free of consequences 😳 And for those of you who know you're doing nothing wrong, I got you. Someone is absolutely infatuated with you but something is holding them back. I have channeled a few clues for you ❤️ : "dark hair" "Scorpio" "19 (could be age or numbers at their date of birth)" "Works in retail" "Initials J or D" "has a flag/scarf of their favourite football team in their room" "met at a party" "subtle ways to have physical contact with you" "had a cringe emo phase a while ago" "has randomly bought you food before" Does it ring a bell?? Zodiac Signs mostly present/related: Aquarius, pisces, Scorpio (sun, moon, rising or venus)

#pick a card #pick a pile #pac #pick a card reading #pick a picture #astrology #love reading #love readings #fs

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bethanydelleman · 9 months ago

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I saw a post you reblogged at some point about Fanny being stuck in a time loop and it got me thinking: if the main men (both protagonists and antagonists) of the different Austen novels time travelled back to the day they first met their love interest/the start of the novel - whichever is latest so wentworth, knightley, and Edmund Bertram would travel to the day the main events of their novels start - who do you think would end up changing the least of the events and the most (intentionally or not)?

Because I feel like Knightley would change the least and Henry Tilney and the three S&S gents would come next. But like Wentworth would immediately throw the entire novel off track and like Darcy and Henry Crawford would come in close second trying to change their truly awful first impressions

(Also I just want to add that I really love your Austen takes and discussions 😊)

Thank you!

This is a fascinating idea. Here are my thoughts:

Wentworth just marches into Uppercross Cottage and proposes again. Doesn't even wait to be properly introduced to the family. He's getting Anne back NOW. (She says yes, of course)

I can imagine Darcy having a tiny little crisis as he decides if he really wants to be married to Elizabeth, maybe he could just not accompany Bingley to Netherfield and his life could go the way he planned... nah, he can't resist. Off to Netherfield he goes and he lets Bingley introduce him to Elizabeth at the assembly ball. Things progress unimpeded and by Christmas there is a double wedding and Wickham's character is known throughout Hertfordshire. He skips town and Lydia is packed off to Pemberley to benefit from some better society. (Side note: Mrs. Bennet would push Mr. Collins on Mary if she had any inclination that Darcy liked Elizabeth).

If Bingley knew everything, he'd never leave Jane. He'd return from London and marry her, no matter what Darcy or his sisters said. (I wrote that once actually)

Does Wickham count as a main? Because I don't want him having the ability to predict the future. Yikes on bikes!

Henry Crawford is very interesting, because does he actually understand where he went wrong? I'm not sure he does. Can he resist a flirtation with two very pretty sisters? That would be a fun fan fiction to write. Because if he went for Fanny right off the bat and she knew nothing else about him... he'd probably succeed with her, secret Edmund love or not. And she certainly wouldn't have a leg to stand on in refusing his proposal.

Does Edmund come back in the same timeline as Henry? That would be so agnsty! If not, he'd probably be doing whatever he could to keep Maria and Henry apart, but he's shockingly ineffective in canon, so would he even be able to change anything?

Henry Tilney would probably just try to prevent Catherine being sent home alone. He could easily come back early.

Mr. Knightley's best move would be to tell Robert Martin to propose in person. I doubt Harriet could have resisted. Then he could just sit back and watch everything else play out.

Honestly, I don't know if Frank Churchill would change a thing, other than making sure his final letter was posted to Jane. He enjoyed the subterfuge.

Poor Edward Ferrars has to travel back while engaged to Lucy? I feel like he wouldn't even want to relive the novel, there is nothing he can do anyway.

Colonel Brandon would probably change a lot. He could immediately save Eliza and challenge Willoughby. He might even spare Marianne from a lot of pain.

Reginald de Courcy (Lady Susan) would likely act as well and save Frederica earlier than in the novel.

#question response #this was very fun!#thank you #austen heroes #jane austen #pride and prejudice #mansfield park #northanger abbey #sense and sensibility #emma #persuasion #lady susan

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dckweed · 8 months ago

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BABYGIRL, jake "hangman" seresin

summary: in which hangman and his babygirl go on a wild ride with an unplanned pregnancy and finally admitting their feelings for each other and figuring out life in general as new parents

warnings: pregnancy, morning sickness, smut, like alot of smut in this one, christmas themed even though it's march!, ex boyfriend meets new boyfriend and it's not pretty. rooster becomes a cowboy.

hi my loves :) been a minute for this one huh? anyway, please remember that this series is open for requests!

series masterlist here, series playlist here.

thank @mamachasesmayhem for making our new header, shes the bestest !!

PART FOUR - the parents.

If you thought Jake was bad before the incident at the bar, he was even worse now. He hovered, and he followed, and when he wasn’t available to hover and follow, he enlisted his friends to do it for him and send quarterly reports back to him. You found it endearing at first, but as Thanksgiving came and went you were thoroughly annoyed and at wits end. It was one time, and you were doing so much better since your small stint in the labor and delivery ward of the hospital (that Jake declared you would not be giving birth in because he didn’t like the way the nurses talked to you sometimes), you had regular check ins with your doctor, and were taking medications and drinking as much liquid IV as you could to keep hydrated during spouts of being too nauseated to eat. You continuously told Jake that he didn’t need to have his friends watching over you on their days off, but he continuously did not listen to you (the Seresin Selective Hearing coming in full stride), so you were continuously apologizing to whichever poor squadron member was spread out on your couch or lingering in your kitchen when you would venture out of your bed in the morning. Your favorite days were Bob and Natasha days, Bob was always so sweet and gentle and calm. Though he still followed you with his eyes whenever you left his general area, you didn’t mind because never asked what you were doing or told you to take it easy. Even though you weren’t always hungry, you had taken to baking him something sweet the night before his days to be with you as a thank you.

Natasha was just straight up fun. “Fuck Jake.” She had said, and tossed you a pair of comfortable shorts and a shirt and had taken you on a walk down the beach on her first visit with you, and when you had checked her phone later when Jake texted her, you had found the string of lies she had been feeding him all day and laughed about it with her until he got home from work. “How was knitting, babygirl?” He had asked, setting his bag down with a kiss on your head. You grinned and locked eyes with Nat, telling him how calm and quiet it had been. She sent you a wink over his shoulder on her way out the door, and from then on out, she was officially your best girl friend.

You didn’t mind your days with Rooster either, but he was definitely a little more on edge, probably because he still had a rocky relationship with Jake and didn’t want to do anything to fuck it up, you couldn’t say you blamed him. Javy, on the other hand, was a carbon copy of Jake and the amount of times you had to remember to breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth as you tried not to beat him with a sock full of bars of soap was astonishing.

And if you thought Jake was bad during November, December was entirely worse the closer you got to christmas. If anything, he was stressing you out more than being sick was but you didn’t have the heart to tell him because he was obviously enjoying being able to take care of you, and who were you to say that he couldn’t? Your nerves and frustration became steadily worse as it got towards that time of the month, you ran around you and Jake’s apartment packing up both of your suitcases because knowing him he’d forget to pack his britches if you didn’t remind him to do it (he had in fact forgotten to pack his britches once on a vacation that both of your families had taken as teens). You also fretted and stewed about what you guys were going to tell your parents. Your small baby bump was no longer small and was kind of just..there. It would be noticed as soon as someone hugged you, and knowing Jake’s mama, she was going to hug you.

“Stop your worrying, babygirl..” He sighed from your left, his right hand coming to rest on your knee. You guys were crossing into Arizona, one more state left to go before you hit texas, and you were starting to get antsy. He had one hand on the steering wheel, slouched back in his seat as if his truck wasn’t outrageously big and hard to handle. “They’re gonna be okay..”

You bring your attention to his face, about to speak when you’re cut off by a loud snore in the back seat. You crinkle your nose in slight disgust, peaking behind you. Rooster was as manspread as the backseat of a GMC allowed him to be, his long legs spread wide and his even longer torso leaned against the door and seat as his head rolled against the window. He had had no other plans for the holiday, and you could see the loneliness in his eyes when he said it and gosh darn it you just couldn’t say no to those big sad eyes, so you invited him on the trip home. You thought your dad would love him, and so would Jake’s brothers. “He seems to have made himself comfortable.” You chuckle, turning back around to face the front. Jake only hums in response, his hand going up to rub your belly gently before he takes it away to place it back on the steering wheel.

Not too much longer after that you noticed a tall McDonalds sign a little ways off the freeway and your stomach grumbled loudly, and your mouth watered as you thought about how good a chicken sandwich and fries sounded. “Jake, baby, get off the freeway up ahead!” You say, whacking his bicep a few times in excitement as you bounce in your seat a little bit. “Pull into the McDonalds!”

Jake hums in slight disgust but does as you say, who was he to decline you of food when you were hardly ever hungry? He only hoped that you wouldn’t throw it up all over his freshly cleaned interior.

Two chicken sandwiches and french fries later, you were back on the road, dancing in your seat happily to whatever was streaming through the radio as you munched on french fries and an M&M McFlurry.

Jake was insistent on making the long drive to the Seresin Ranch in one go, he hated stopping, so what part of the drive wasn’t spent with you and Rooster goofing off with each other, playing weird car games and trying to rope Jake into them, was spent with you sleeping, which is what you were doing when Jake slowed his truck down to turn left onto a long dirt road, the metal archway just above the electric fence that slid open spelled out his family’s name in big bold lettering.

It hadn’t snowed just yet in this part of Texas but it was definitely cold enough to have frozen some of the water puddles that littered the well worn dirt drive so he drove carefully, both hands on the wheel just as you started to stir in your seat, your head having bounced off the window as he hit a particularly big pothole. You groaned, rubbing your eyes and your belly. It wasn’t going to be a secret too much longer, you realized as your bleary eyes focused on the lights of the ranch house just up ahead.

“Sorry Babygirl, I was trying to be gentle..” He murmurs, looking over at you with a slight pout tugging at the corners of his lips. You hum in response, stretching in your seat. You could make out your Daddy’s John Deere Gator the closer you got, and you started to get more nervous and excited all at the same time. You had told all of your family that two of you were together, you weren’t really sure how else you were supposed to explain your prolonged trip to California where you essentially moved in with him, but you both had been hesitant to tell them about the baby, knowing that questions were going to be asked, and that his Mama was going to want to fly out the moment you told her, and you just weren’t ready for that. You weren’t really ready for this either, but you knew you didn’t have a choice.

“S’okay,” You yawned, checking in the backseat. Rooster had started dozing off again too so you shook his knee, his eyes flew open instantly and he sat up at attention. “We’re home..” You say. The Seresin’s home was just as much yours as your own home was, and the same went for Jake with your house. The two of you were always at one or the other, practically living at each others houses in the summers, this was and always had been home, and if you wanted to be really sentimental and make yourself cry, Jake had always been your home too.

Rooster moves his head so it’s poking out between the two of you, over the center console of the truck. “Damn, Jake..” He breathes, taking in what bit of the ranch he could see in the dark of the night, the big texan sky giving little illumination tonight. You knew that his words would really be emphasized in the morning when he saw it in all of it’s glory. The Seresin Ranch was a working ranch, full of cattle and acres of land, whereas yours was only a personal ranch, your father living off of the land and making enough money here and there off of cattle sales. It was more than enough to raise you and support your mama, it had been a happy life, but life at the Seresin’s was just different.

“You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, Bradshaw.” Jake drawls, pulling his truck into the drive, right behind his mama’s much smaller SUV. The dome lights pop on overhead as he opens his door before pulling the keys out of the ignition, not bothering to honk the horn to alert them of your guys’ presence. He was more worried about getting you out of the car and into bed. It was damn near midnight by now, and you had only been dozing for less than an hour. He knew you and the baby needed sleep.

He comes around the front of the truck and opens your door in the time it takes for you to unbuckle and stretch in your seat, Bradley having gotten out as soon as Jake did. “Come on mama, lets get you inside..” When he wasn’t calling you Babygirl, he had taken to calling you mama and it did something else entirely to your already hormonally raging body and when it rolled off of his tongue in his own mama’s driveway, you just knew you were in for the longest christmas of your life because there was no way in hell you were getting down and dirty in Mama Seresin’s house. You take his outstretched hand and swing your feet out of the truck, landing on the running boards in the dark. “Easy, it’s a little wet.”

“Thank you, baby..” You say, reaching up on your tiptoes to plant a kiss on his scruffy cheek. He hums, a hand going to the small of your back to pull you flush against his body, or as flush as you can be with a round belly. “You ready?” You ask quietly, listening to Bradley unload the luggage from the bed of the truck.

Jake sighs, rubbing the small of your back. “Not really,” He says, pulling back to look down at you with a little grin on his lips. “But it will be better the faster we get in there and get the shock and surprise done and over with.” You nod in response and he simply kisses your forehead, going to help Bradley with the bags.

The boys are the first ones into the house, you follow them almost sheepishly, heat blooming across your face when you realize that this is it. Your daddy is in the midst of hugging Jake, giving him a “Good to have you home, son”, and shaking Bradley’s hand, an impressed look across his typically hardened features when he realizes how strong his grip is. “You can tell how good a man is by how strong he grips your hand.” He always says, and Bradley must be a damn good man because your daddy shakes his hand out when they pull away.

His eyes lock on you standing in the open door of the Seresin house, a home that was just as much a second house to you as it was to your daddy, and a grin spreads across his face. “Com’ere, honey!”He practically shouts, pulling you into him by the arms. Your belly presses against his as his arms go around you, and just as he’s rubbing your back he seems to notice it, hands gripping you by the shoulder he pushes you away for a moment, looking down. “...honey?”

Jake is by your side almost immediately, ready to step in if needed. “Sir, Mama, Daddy..” He says, addressing his whole family. His brothers are behind his mom, and they’re all looking on with interest. “We have an announcement..”

You keep your eyes on your dad, watching his face as you speak. “You’re gonna be a Papa, daddy..” You say quietly, wanting him to hear the news first. At first, there’s nothing, no sign of any kind of emotion on his face, eyebrows furrowed, until a grin breaks across his lips.

“You hear that?!” He shouts, raising your arm up in the air as if he had just won the super bowl. “I’m gonna be a fuggin, Papa!” A chorus of celebration is shouted throughout the entrance of the house, and one by one you hug your way through the family, finally coming to a rest by Bradley about half an hour later, your eyes drooping and shoulders sagging.

“Alright guys,” Jake says, looking up from his conversation with his mama to see you using Bradshaw as a support pillar. “It’s time to get her to bed, been a long day and a rough few months for her with the pregnancy sickness and all that..”

The next morning fares slightly less busy for you, though the whole family seems to be home and all eyes are on you when you venture out of Jake’s old bedroom at around eight thirty in the morning, way later than normally allowed on the ranch. You can’t help the blush that creeps up your face as you head through the large living room toward the kitchen. “Well good mornin’ Babygirl,” Jake’s brother, Nash, drawls at you, lifting his coffee mug to his lips with a wink as he passes you in the kitchen doorway. His boots were covered in dirt and it was clear that he and his brother had all been out working already. “Sleep good?”

“Yeah, actually.” You say, smile on your face as you walk into the kitchen, opening the fridge. “Morning, Mama..” You smile, looking over your shoulder at Jake’s mom. “You send Bradley out to work with the boys?”

She was handling a slab of some kind of meat, putting it in a marinade, probably for dinner tonight you realize. “He’s running cattle with Jake and Brian, doin’ a damn fine job of it too from what Nash just told me.” She says, turning to the sink to wash her hands before turning back to you just as you’re pouring yourself a glass of orange juice. “Can I see the belly?”

You laugh, but oblige, not even stopping to think about how you look much farther along than the amount of time that you’ve been with Jake as you lift your shirt, and walk around the kitchen island. Her hands go to her face and she grins happily before reaching out to touch your belly, warm hands gently caressing the skin. “It’s Dalton’s, isn’t it?” She asks, suddenly, looking up at you and you choke on the juice you were sipping on, stepping back away from her hands. “Oh relax honey, I’m not upset, honest..but do you think I was born yesterday? I’ve had five babies, i’m not stupid.”

“I, um..” You stammer, not sure what to say. You and Jake hadn’t prepared for this at all. You climb up onto a stool that sat at the Island, your head spinning. “Ma’am, I can explain..”

She waves her hand in the air, looking at you with noting but love as she smiles. “Babygirl,” It really was your God given name when it came to this family, you realize. “We all knew you were gonna end up together at some point in time, and if this is what brought you together then so be it, I could care less..my son isn’t stupid, I know he know’s that baby isn’t his and I’m just glad that it kicked you both in your asses finally…”

You spend the morning talking with her, helping her prepare the foods for dinner. You were honestly relieved that she knew the truth, and even more relieved that she wasn’t upset at all. You knew Jake would be happy too, he hated keeping secrets (especially from his mama).

Once you were finished in the kitchen, you made your way over to your family’s property, climbing over the fence like you used to when you were kids. It was chilly out, you wore one of Jake’s hoodies and a pair of sweatpants as you made your way to the burial site for your mama, spending a little while there before making your way to the house. Your daddy was gone, off in town somewhere so you meandered around on your own, finding yourself in your old bedroom, staring happily at the photos of you and Jake throughout the years that you had stuck to various surfaces.

He found you there an hour later, going through old things in your dresser drawer. “You look so damn good in my clothes, babygirl..” He says, pressing his lips in a chaste kiss just below your ear. You hadn’t heard him come in and he scared the bejeezus out of you, which makes him grin as he looks at you in the mirror, his hands going under the hem of his maroon aggies hoodie and straight to your stomach. “Been looking for you all day babygirl..”

You sigh happily as his lips find their way down your neck, his cowboy hat lifting off of his head as he goes. “You found me..” You breathe, watching him in the mirror. Your hormones were horrible lately, and you were always ready to go for him and it seemed like he could sense it on you, almost like a dog. You loved it.

“Uh-huh, all alone too..” One of his hands moves from your belly to your tit, his whole hand cupping it with a firm squeeze that has you leaning your head back against him, already putty in his hands. “Y’know..I always wanted to fuck you in here babygirl..” Your thighs clench at his words, his voice and musky smell from working outdoors all day flooding your senses.

“..please..” You whimper, pressing your ass back against his denim clad half hard cock, turning your head to capture his lips though he doesn’t let you. He catches your jaw in his hand, cocking an eyebrow at you.

“What was that, babygirl?” He asks softly, his other hand dropping from your tit to pull your hips back against him even more, rubbing himself against you. “You askin’ me to fuck you?” The hand that was still on your belly moves down lower, slipping with ease into the waistband of your sweatpants, or rather, his sweatpants, and into your panties, cupping your already disgustingly wet mound. “Yeah..you were askin’ me to fuck you.” He practically growls, voice a deep rumble in his chest.

You’re not entirely sure how it happens, but somehow you’re bent over your dresser, arms bracing yourself upright as Jake slams into you from behind, your head thrown back against his chest as his thick cock hits that spot that has you seeing nothing but white spots and saying only his name. One of your legs is cocked up on the top of the dresser, the position giving him better access to your pussy from behind, his hands gripping your hips with what you’re sure is a bruising strength but you couldn’t possibly care less because god, Jacob Seresin was fucking you in your teenaged bedroom and it was all you could fucking think about.

“Jake, jake, jake, oh-, my..ohhhhh” You sputtered out, your pussy clenching down on him so hard that he thought it was going to bruise.

“Yeah, I know babygirl, I know..” He grunts in your ear, lips marking up any inch of visible skin he possibly could. He felt fucking feral in that moment, but goddamn it was the best feeling. “That’s my fuckin’ girl..takin’ my cock so fuckin’ good f’me babygirl..so fuckin’ good..” There’s not even words leaving your mouth anymore, just filthy, lewd sounds as he continues to fuck you into oblivion, your legs going weak as a third orgasm hits you like a wall of bricks, your arms going weak to the point that you start to collapse.

“Aht-aht, I gotcha,” He’s chasing his own orgasm as wraps his arm around you, a hand at the base of your throat to force you to look into the mirror. “Look at you babygirl, look at how fucking sexy you look like this, huh?” You could swear there were tears coming out of your eyes, but you wanted to look but you couldn’t tear your gaze away from his eyes in the mirror, looking into the beautiful expanse of green as he fucked into you with wreckless abandon.

“I love you, i love, i love you..” You mewl, back arching as the overstimulation of your three orgasms starts to rockett though your body, you keep chanting it, not able to stop the flow of words even as you feel hot ropes of his cum paint your insides, even when he finally stops fucking into you and finally just holds you to him, cock still stuffed into your overflowing pussy.

“Holy fuckin’ shit baby..” He breathes, head dropping to your shoulder as you both catch your breath. You can’t help but let out a chuckle. “Look at you makin’ all my teenage dreams come true, huh?”

“Just like that song, right baby?” You say meekly, your body completely exhausted now that he had worn you out. He smiles against your skin, placing a loving kiss as he starts to finally pull out of you, his cock going flaccid. “M’sleepy..” You say, a yawn over taking you as you stretch, Jake having wandered off out of your room.

“Should probably take a nap, huh?” He says, a damp rag hanging from his hands as he bends down to help clean you up. You jump at the sensation, your pussy still sensitive. He places a kiss at your pelvic bone, looking up at you almost apologetically as you run a hand softly through his mussed hair. “Mama is making some kind of roast for supper, be ready in a few hours i think..” And then you remember your conversation from earlier. “What’s wrong with your face?”

“Jake, baby..” He stands up after helping you back into your sweatpants, ever the fucking gentleman he is. “Your Mama knows..”

“What do you mean?” He asks, wrapping his arms around your waist after placing his stetson back on his head. His eyebrows are furrowed, and as you look down at your belly and look back up at him he suddenly realizes. “How?!”

“She asked to see my belly this morning,” You say, resting your chin on his chest as you look up at him, arms wrapping around him. “She’s not stupid, baby..she’s only had a million of you boys, she knows how far along i should look if we were basing the baby off of how long we’ve been together..”

Jake hums, kissing your forehead. “Was she mad?” You shake your head, small smile on your lips. “Good, because I don’t like fighting with my Mama, but I would have if she was mad at you, at us..” You squeeze him then, realizing once more that this man truly does love you. “Let’s get back, yeah? I think your daddy is coming over too..”

Christmas with Jake’s family is amazing, you had spent weeks finding and wrapping gifts for each of his brothers, and even his Mama too. His daddy on the other hand, you just gave a smile and a kiss on the cheek as you slipped him a new canister of chewing tobacco, to which he grumbles a thank you and pats your belly. Your own daddy is almost brought to tears as you hand him his present, a gift wrapped scrap book (something your mama had been very into doing), some the pages full of your pregnancy journey so far.

“Honey, this is the best gift..” He says, eyes watery as he pulls you in for a big hug, planting a wet kiss to the top of your head.

From everyone in the family, you and Jake received alot of baby gifts, clothes and rattles and what nots..and from your daddy, a yellow quilted blanket, just the right size for a little baby or toddler with your mama’s first and middle initials stitched into one of the corners. You lifted it to your nose and inhaled, it smelled of her perfume.

“Daddy..” You voice quivers just as much as your lips, your eyes welling with tears. “This is perfect..” You say, showing it to Jake. “It was mama’s baby blanket, she always said that she was saving it for me if I ever had one of my own..” You wipe your eyes with a tissue that Jake hands you. “She must have been working on it before she passed, it smells like her..” You couldn’t even describe how much you missed your mom, how you wished you were going through this time of your life with her by your side, and even though she wasn’t here physically any more, this gift from your Daddy just made it feel as though she was.

The rest of the day is a blur, the family happily bantering as they all sit down for supper. Bradley had even been welcomed with open arms into the Seresin family, having been ladled with gifts of his own even though he was a last minute addition to the family. You had honestly never been happier, had never felt more at home and at peace than you had in that day. And unfortunately, it all came crashing down the next day.

You, Jake and Bradley had all decided to save the last day of your trip to pack up your old apartment. There wasn’t much that you actually wanted to take with, most of it just clothes and keep sakes, but it was enough to fill up a small uhaul trailer. You had already listed a bunch of your furniture on sale on FB Marketplace, and were meeting the buyers as Jake carried things down to the trailer.

About halfway through the day, when you’re freezing and tired and ready to take a nap, the devil shows up at the doorstep. “So, I see you’re back in town.”

You turn from where you had been packing a bunch of your books into a box, heart racing. Jake had gone down the road to the mexican restaurant to pick up lunch for you guys, you had had the sudden craving and who was he to deny it when you spent most of the pregnancy not eating? Bradley was downstairs, he had helped a nice lady carry your couch down and put it into the back of her pick up and hadn’t come back up yet.

“What do you want?” You ask, a hand going almost protectively to your belly. It was shown off well today, you had opted for workout leggings and a lululemon zip up jacket with a tanktop underneath. Your belly looked quite prominent and it seemed to be the only think his eyes were drawn to. “You shouldn’t be here, Dalton.”

He sniffs, dark eyes looking up at you. “I see you kept the bastard.” He takes a step into the apartment and you back up, nervous. “Where’s your precious Jakey?” He asks, looking around the corner and down into the hallway. “Word around town is that the two of you are dating now..”

“We are.” You say, swallowing thickly. “We came home for christmas and so I could pack up all of the stuff I want with me in california.” You think you hear footsteps coming down the hallway outside the door and you can only hope that its Jake or Bradley. “What do you want?”

“I want a word with the son of a bitch you cheated on me with.”

“I never-”

“I don’t think thats gonna happen, pal.” Bradley came around the corner into the doorway, leaning against it. He looks at you and you relax only slightly, his black Stetson pulled low over his brow. “I think you need to leave, the lady looks uncomfortable with you being here.”

“Oh yeah?” Dalton asks, turning to glare at him. “Is she fucking you too?”

“Dalton!” You half yell, catching his attention as Bradley stands up straight. “I never cheated on you, and I’m not fucking anyone besides Jake, not that it’s any of your business.”

The man scoffs. “Yeah right, you’re a fuckin’ whore..how else would you be pregnant.”

“Okay, it’s time for you to leave.” Bradley says, stepping into the room. His neck is red and you can tell that he’s angry.

“Oh, and you’re gonna make me?” He looks back at you, pointing to Bradley. “Who the fuck is this guy, huh?”

“He’s gonna be the least of your worries if you don’t get the fuck out of here.” Jake stands in the doorway and you immediately run to him, clutching his arm tightly. The situation was clearly growing tense and was starting scare you for real.

taglist:

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