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nahimjustfeelingit-writes · 9 days ago

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The Hoodoo Apprentice

Summary: Amelia packed her things and took a train to Clarksdale Mississippi to reunite with an old friend, Annie. Annie promised she’d teach Amelia the art of Hoodoo. After a month, Smoke and Stack return with a plan to open a Juke Joint.

Warnings: SMUT

Part Four

Marylin Jenkins climbed the short, rickety steps leading into Annie’s Apothecary. The pussy willow’s were in rare form that day, leaving white pedals everywhere, some of it even leading into Annie’s shop. The wind chimes swayed creating whimsical, meditating sounds.

Marylin removed her straw hat, smoothing down her coarse hair that she wore in four plaits. Annie and Marylin used to hang around a lot before she married her husband, Deacon, at the tender age of eighteen. Five children later and one on the way, she didn’t have time to go out and enjoy herself.

Marylin’s tawny skin glistened like she’d been slathered in fish grease. Her light brown eyes fell upon a woven basket with a label attached to it that read: FREE FANS FOR THE HEAT.

She helped herself to one, waving it all over her face. It cooled her a little, but The Delta fought hard to smother you in its oppressively humid conditions. Almost suffocating you with the thick, blazing air. Marylin helped herself to looking around, wondering what she needed to buy while she was on her way back home to her children.

Bam–Bam needed his hair cut.

Sonya scuffed her knees playing in the yard the other day.

Baby Tina was almost fresh out of milk.

Beatrice and Belle had a habit of getting into things they shouldn’t.

Marylin halted her footsteps in front of a bundle of sage. As she picked up one to buy, footsteps leading out of a closet behind her caught her ear. Marylin turned to find Annie’s helper, Ameila, exiting the walk in closet, fixing a checkered half-apron around her hourglass waistline. She wore a cotton field dress in a pastel yellow color, the ruffled straps hanging from her slender shoulders.

Behind her came a man. A man identical to Annie’s husband.

Elias ‘Stack’ Moore.

Marylin’s features were pinched with resentment. She’d heard talk about the Smoke Stack Twins returning to the Delta from the Windy City, and the thought of seeing Stack again brought back suppressed memories of how she used to be his lover until he dropped her like a bad habit.

And then she ran into Deacon’s arms after he’d confessed to her drunk over corn liquor how much he had a big ol’ crush on her. A robust, man with sable skin and a kind smile. Memories of Stack having his way with her wherever and whenever he could, even with his crew hanging around, stirred something in her. Something akin to wanting that old thing back.

Ameila smoothed down her curly hair before tightening the black bow that held all that dense hair together and down her back. She flashed Marylin a kind smile, sweat sheening the junction between her throat and collar bones. Stack occupied himself with studying a conjure jar filled with whatever Annie put together. A label on it read: ESSENCE OF BEND-OVER.

Marylin could see from the corner of her eye Stack closing the fly to his pinstriped pants, adjusting his erection, tucking it in a way where it wouldn’t be noticeable. He cut his eyes at her and did a double take, recognizing her straight away. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, cursing under his breath. Marylin gave Ameila a practiced smile, but in the back of her mind, she was judging her. Judging because she knew exactly what Stack and her had been doing in that closet.

“How can I help ya’ today, Marylin?” Ameila inquired, a hospitable smile on her lips.

Lips that were snug around Stack’s log she was sure.

“I’ll take a bundle of sage. Annie got some more of that Sachet Powder I like?”

“Of course, right over here,” Ameila guided Marylin over to a section of the store where she could help herself, “Sure that’s all ya’ need?”

Stack perched himself on top of a wooden stool, rolling a cigarette. A black fedora with a red feather sat lazily on his head, tipped to the side, revealing a crisp fade. He had on a snug, white T-shirt and two–toned Oxford shoes on his feet in white and black.

Marylin gave Ameila a curt nod, “That’s all…where’s Annie anyway?”

“At the house. She’s preparing lunch. Asked me to look over the store.” Ameila revealed.

“Alright,” Marylin’s nosy eyes danced between the both of them, “I’ll take this and be on my way.”

The sound of Stack lighting a match hit Marylin’s ears. Ameila tallied the till.

“That’ll be two dollars.”

Marylin paid her money and accepted a brown paper bag with the things she needed. She tucked it beneath her arm before turning to leave.

“Marylin? How you be…”

Marylin paused on her pursuit. She gave Stack a tight smile. He flashed his characteristic smile, Mr. Dimples successfully pulling her in. But Marylin despised him.

“All’s well, Elias. You back for good?” Marylin asked with a condescending smile.

“I am. Gotta deal with the devil we know. How them kids?”

Marylin gave a faint shrug, “Being kids. Hope you stay on the straight path this time around, Elias.”

“I’ll take your advice…”

“Will you?” Marylin sassed.

Stack frowned, “Depends on what mood I’m in.”

Amelia busied herself with stocking empty jars in a cupboard for later use. She glanced between Marylin and Stack, noticing straight away that there was tension between them. She rolled her eyes with a sigh .

“Have a good rest of your day now,” Stack said as Marylin walked away. It held a mischievous edge to it.

Marylin glanced at him with uneasy eyes, “You do the same.”

“Tell Deacon I said quit hidin’. been a minute since he been ‘round.”

Marylin paused within the doorway, a look of disdain crossing her face.

“He’s busy being a father to his children and working the fields. Ain’t got time to be runnin’ around.”

Stack threw his hands up with faux surrender, a pout of his lips and an exaggerated lift of his brows.

“Yeah, I wouldn’t know ‘bout that.” Stack replied.

Marylin glared at him before descending the stairs. She made her way to her car, mumbling something Stack was sure to be a string of insults.

“Bitter bitch,” Stack took a hit of his cigarette, “Ain’t my fault your man got side pussy. Maybe if ya’ shit wasn’t so lose he’d stay happy.”

“Stack!”

Ameila threw a pen at him that Stack tried to dodge but it hit him in the face. He picked it up from the floor and tossed it back, watching it bounce off of Ameila’s hip.

“That was so mean.” Ameila said.

“You think I shoulda stayed in the closet?”

“Yes,” Ameila argued, “Now she gonna run and tell her friends what a hussy I am.”

“Like you care what people think, Princess.”

Ameila smiled sheepishly.

“The sooner ya’ find out how real I keep it the better.” Stack replied with a smug smile.

Ameila put the money away and let down her hair. She fluffed it out before wrapping it around in a bun. Stack watched her with attentive eyes.

Before Marylin showed up, they were getting busy in the closet. Stack had Ameila propped up on a stack of wooden crates while his dick slow stroked her. They didn’t want to make too much noise so they could listen out for customers. Stack also wanted to hear the gushy sound her pussy makes. He wanted to savor the sensation of being enveloped in her warmth. He pulled out with a groan of frustration while Ameila left him with a cream–coated dick.

“C’mon…”

Ameila followed the suggestive tilt of Stack’s head, motioning for them to get back in the closet to finish where they left off.

“What if somebody else comes in? I have to keep an eye on things, Stack.”

“Ain’t like we wouldn’t know it, Princess.”

“Stack,” Ameila rolled her eyes with a shake of her head, “What if them little girls show up?”

“You think Annie and Smoke give a fuck when they be up in here all nasty?”

Stack stood up, opened his fly, and whipped out his long dick. Ameila froze, eyes following the back and forth sway of that thick pleasure stick.

“You saying no to this? I was just starting to make it cream, baby.”

Ameila’s eyes flicked left and right.

How could she say no?

“We gotta hurry, Stack.”

Ameila ran into the closet, Stack popping her on the rump, causing her to giggle and slap his hand away. They left the closet door cracked so they could hear better.

“Back on up there…”

Stack picked Ameila up at the waist and flopped her down on the wooden crates. It was positioned in a way for her to lean back against the shelf, giving her room to bring her knees up and tilt her hips. Stack settled between her thighs, one hand keeping a leg up and the other on the base of his dick. He slapped her clit with the tip, watching the way her fat pussy lips jiggled from the impact.

Her clit seemed to grow before his eyes.

“I like you like this…I can see your pretty face and watch how I fuck you.”

Stack’s big dick slipped back into her warmth and he immediately started stroking her. One hand positioned on his lower back, Stack bent at the knee, dick curving down and down up and up.

Ameila braced herself against the shelf, tiny gasps and faint whispers of “ooo, dick so good” “got me so wet” escaping her pouty lips.

“Tryna fight the feelin’ I know ya’ ass wanted. Talkin’ ‘bout, what if them little girls show up? Like you care…”

Creek.

Stack peeked around the door, stilling his hips for a second. He thought he’d heard something. Ameila could feel Stack’s dick pulsating against her walls.

“Look who’s talking.” Amelia teased.

“Shut up and take this dick.” Stack threw back at her.

He sat deep in her to shut her up. Amelia squeezed her eyes shut and her mouth dropped open.

“Daddy…” she moaned.

“That’s right…”

Stack looked down at Ameila. He leaned forward, his full, lips that felt like a cloud pecking Ameila’s pouty lips softly. Stack started moving his hips again, the sound of the wooden crates rocking back against the shelf.

“Stack…fuck me…”

“Fuck this pussy?” Stack whispered.

“Yes…”

He hooked both arms around her legs and pumped faster. A creamy ring settled at the base of his dick each time he filled her to the brim. Ameila watched with surprise, eyes wide and shiny with unshed tears.

“Stack why you fuck me so good? You make my pussy so tingly, daddy…”

Her whiny voice and soft moans increased as Stack locked her legs in a strong hold, raising her lower half from the wooden crates. He bottomed out, bottom lip between his teeth and brows knitted together.

“Let sum other people show up, don’t give a fuck,” Stack shit–talked with a deep tremble in his voice, “I’m in my pussy, this my pussy, my shit, don’t care who comin’ in, fuck that…”

Ameila was loud and clear with her cries of pleasure. She couldn’t hold back.

“Stack, I think I’m leaking!” Ameila panicked.

Stack widened his stance. He folded Ameila, the hard wood of the crate digging into her lower back. He grabbed a hold of the shelf and fucked her hard. Like a leaky faucet, Ameila drenched Stack’s lower abs. She buried her face against his chest, squeals of pleasure muffled.

“Cum all on this big dick…all over it…” Stack ordered through clenched teeth.

They locked eyes, a frozen look of ecstasy written all over her beautiful face. Her body jerked beneath him with her release.

Stack was right behind her.

He pulled out and covered her little patch of pubic hair with cum. They fought to catch their breaths, the sweltering heat and humid wind making it hard to capture a lungful. Stack’s face dripped sweat onto Ameila’s cleavage. Moist strands of her hair lay flat against her forehead.

Ameila tapped Stack’s chest. Her thighs were burning and cramping up. Stack gently lowered her legs before taking a step back to adjust himself. His throat was bathed with sweat, adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed spit. Amelia fixed her dress, taking her time getting off the wooden crates. She made her way towards the closet door, opening it fully.

“Ya’ll finish in there?”

Ameila jerked back with surprise.

Smoke was standing in the entryway of the back door to Annie’s shack. He wore a flannel buttoned shirt with the sleeves ripped off and a pair of faded coveralls with the straps hanging loose. On his feet were work boots. Ameila caught a glimpse of his mojo bag resting between his pecs through the opening of his shirt. His arms were thick and muscled, slathered in sweat. A toasty brown.

Stack peeked his head around the door with a guilty smile.

“Annie got lunch ready. Tamales.”

Smoke lit a cigarette with practiced precision, eyes hard and unwavering on Amelia, completely ignoring his little brother.

“Make sure you ain’t leave no mess in there,” Smoke pointed his cigarette towards the scandalous closet, cigarette ash falling to the floor, “Wipe ya’ cum up and get it orderly for my woman.”

Stack appeared, hands in his pockets and a dandy gait.

“Now hold on, Smoke,” He gestured with his toothpick between his fingers, “How much mess you and Annie make in there and not clean up?”

Ameila giggled behind her hand.

“Nigga do what I said.”

Smoke caught her laughing and Ameila went silent.

“Come on down to the house and help Annie set the table. Me and Stack gon’ lock up for now.”

“Yes, Smoke.”

Ameila folded her hands behind her back and swept past Smoke in the door. He didn’t move out of the way immediately. Ameila’s eyes flicked between his and Stack’s.

Her heart raced.

Smoke finally stepped to the side.

“Go on,” he tipped his head, eyes blazing.

Ameila made her way down the steps and followed the trail to the house without a backward glance.

Smoke took a hit of his cigarette. Stack tucked his T-shirt in his pants and went to grab some cleaning supplies for the mess Ameila made. Smoke walked with heavy footsteps towards the front, grabbing a brass ring with keys hanging from it to lock up.

Stack was crouched down, scrubbing the floorboards.

Smoke watched his brother closely.

“I’m a need a favor from you, little bro’.”

Stack smirked up at Smoke.

“What I gotta do now, Serg?” Stack joked.

“Take Annie, Amelia, and myself to the train station tomorrow morning. We going to Mound Bayou for a day to do some shopping for the Juke opening.”

“And you need me to stay behind to check on things?”

“That’s right. Think you can handle that while I’m gone?”

“I got it, Smoke. Just make sure you look after Princess.”

Smoke tilted his head.

“You givin’ her pet names now?”

“When she giving me good pussy I sure am.”

Smoke curled his top lip faintly before taking another drag of his cigarette.

“Yeah, well, Annie want her to come.”

“Why? So she can stick her tongue in her cooze?”

Stack cracked up at his own joke. He stood, dusting his hands off. Smoke’s silence at Stack’s disrespectful remark made him pause.

“Hold on…why you ain’t jack me up?”

Smoke simply stared at Stack.

That’s when it dawned on him.

“She did?” Stack questioned with astonishment, “Well I’ll be! That girl got sugar walls! Annie really got a taste of that?”

“Caught ‘em on the back porch that night. Annie was on her hands and knees, moving her head in it.”

“Gahleee…”

Stack chuckled. He blew air out his mouth, eyes crinkled with astonishment. He looked at Smoke with a deep smile.

“You okay wit’ your wife doin’ that?”

“As long as she happy.”

“That ain’t answer my question…”

Stack left the closet. He tapped Smoke on the chest before leaving the shack.

“I’d do anything for Annie.” Smoke finally spoke as they approached the house.

Stack turned to face him, he tipped his hat a little lower over his eyes to shield himself from the sun. Smoke squinted at him from where he stood, unable to hide away from the suns rays.

“Anything? That comes with an open mind…so you okay with her seeing other people? That don’t make you angry? As possessive as you are over that woman. Hell, you was ready to kill me for fessing up ‘bout the crush I had on her.”

“I ain’t angry, fool. You see how happy she is? I’m happy she get to smile. I left her for seven years, Stack. If that gal can keep my woman happy while I’m gone handlin’ business wit’ yo ass what I look like taking that away from her?”

Stack folded his arms, nodding his head at his brother’s response.

“I get ya’ Smoke. Annie a good woman. Ameila a good woman too.” Stack said.

“She seem good,” Smoke replied, placing a fresh cigarette behind his ear.

Stack rocked back and forth on his feet, oxfords tapping along the dirt. A slow, mischievous smile crept through his lips.

“If it was me, I’d fuck ‘em both. Get a taste of that happiness. You need it grump.”

Smoke’s eyes narrowed at Stack.

“She good…”

Stack drew closer to whisper.

“Nice and tight…a squirter…”

Smoke walked around Stack with a faint grin. Something unheard of with him. Stack was one of the few to pull it out of him.

“Let’s go get these tamales while they hot.” Smoke said.

“Don’t change the subject, Smoke!” Stack shouted after his brother.

“Then I got this one right here…”

Stack pointed to a tattoo of his military numbers on his left shoulder blade. His second tattoo was his social security number on his ankle. He lifted his foot up on the dining table, pulled his sock down, and revealed it.

Ameila stroked the tattoo on his back. Annie entered from the back door, wiping her hands on a towel hanging from her shoulder. She spotted Stack with his foot on the table and before she could rip him a new one, Smoke knocked his foot off with a hard hand.

Ameila allowed her gaze to drift over Annie.

It’s been more than three days since they’d had a taste of each other. Annie seemed to be thinking the same, because when her eyes locked with Amelia’s a look of absolute lust crossed her features.

Annie was glowing.

She wore her favorite color; green. A green maxi skirt with a matching top that hung from her shoulders. She wore a kinky fro with the tips swirled into tiny bantus. Her favorite chandelier earrings with tiny emeralds in her ears. Annie mentioned how Smoke bought her those when he got his first taste of real money.

Earlier in the shack, against Annie’s alter, their bodies pressed together heatedly, smoke from her incense billowing around them. They breathed heavily as their lips pressed together hungrily. Amelia could taste their shared breath, feel the thud of their combined heartbeat as they fumbled to take off one another’s clothes. Unfortunately, the sound of footsteps approaching broke them apart.

“…Smoke got the same tattoos,” Stack continued.

Amelia broke Annie’s gaze with reluctance. Stack’s foot beneath the table stroked her ankle. Ameila hid her face, smiling.

“Smoke, can you pick up my golds from that jeweler? I went down about a week ago and they should be ready by now.”

Smoke took a seat at the table.

“More golds? Nigga, you don’t have enough?”

“Never can have enough, Smoke. Ask Jack Johnson. That nigga got a mouthful and they permanent.”

Annie positioned herself behind Smoke. She massaged his shoulders, then she leaned forward to plant a kiss to his forehead. Stack cut his eyes away when they started tongue kissing. Smoke almost dropped his cigarette. Stack caught it, taking a hit. Ameila watched them, thighs tightly clenched in her seat.

Annie broke the kiss first before dragging her fingers over Smoke’s hair.

“I like you like this, all scruffy,” Annie whispered seductively.

“He need that shit done,” Stack said, “let me hook you up before you leave tomorrow.”

Smoke kissed his teeth, “Aight…let me up, baby…”

Annie stepped to the side with both of her hands on her hips. Stack waved for Smoke to follow him out the house.

“We be back. About a hour.” Smoke said.

“I’ll finish packing up. You got more packing to do, Ameila?” Annie asked.

Amelia stood, “I’ll double check.”

Stack and Amelia locked eyes.

“…why don’t both of ya’ll tag along? I can show you how the place lookin’ Annie. I’m closer to the train station on my end anyway. Ya’ll can sleep in Smoke room.”

Stack wrapped a hand around Amelia’s waist, leading her to her room.

“Stack!—”

“It do make sense, baby.” Smoke interrupted, “Plus…we ain’t been in my other room since I got you pregnant…remember?”

Annie melted into Smoke’s arms.

How could she forget.

Smoke delivered soft kisses to Annie’s lips, “C’mon, Annie…I need you all over that room. Break that bed in again…”

Annie inhaled deeply, eyelids shuttering.

“Aight, Smoke. We gotta make sure everything is packed up.” Annie said.

“It will be. Got us a nice room in Mound Bayou too. Double beds…”

Ameila.

“Kay…”

Smoke pecked her forehead. He let Annie go and watched her walk away towards the room before he joined her. Meanwhile, Stack sat at Amelia’s vanity while she took care of last minute tasks.

“Books…I need my blush—can’t forget my hair supplies—”

“Ya’ only staying one damn night, Ameila.” Stack fussed.

“As a woman, we gotta make sure we don’t forget anything! One pair of draws ain’t enough, Stack!”

Stack flashed Amelia a defensive look, “Who said I pack one pair of draws?”

“I’m just saying. It could be two hours, I gotta be prepared.”

Stack played around with his lighter, watching the embers grow the more he flicked his thumb against the roller. Amelia secured her luggage, snapping the leather straps in place. She slipped on her ballerina slippers in a satin beige color with a tiny bow at the top.

Stack dragged his eyes over Ameila as she walked up to him, standing between his legs and stroking his cheeks. Stack dragged his hands up and down Amelia’s ass over her dress.

“You know what I was thinking?” Stack whispered.

Ameila removed his hat, placing it on her vanity. She stroked her hands down his slicked hair.

“What’s that?” Amelia replied with a hushed tone.

“Who you feel like…outta me and Annie…eat ya’ pussy better?”

Amelia leaned back to stare at Stack with a bewildered look. He continued to stroke her backside, thick fingers kneading her cheeks like dough. Amelia was stuck.

“Why you ain’t tell me about Annie…”

Ameila stilled her hands. She locked eyes with Stack, caught off guard by those unexpected words.

“Smoke told you?” Amelia finally spoke.

“He ain’t have to. I figured it out.” Stack replied with a cunning smile littered with gold.

Amelia backed away. Stack rose from her vanity. She tried to occupy herself with making her bed, but Stack was pressed up on her nice and firm. Hot all over, Amelia’s breath hitched when Stack reached around to cup her sex. He made crude gestures with his tongue against her ear, Amelia wiggling as best as she could but she was trapped between the bed and a big dick tomcat.

“She eat it better than me?” Stack spoke with a hushed tone, full lips tickling her earlobe, “Huh?”

“You so disrespectful, Elias,” Amelia nudged him back with her elbow, “That’s Smoke’s wife! Your Sister–in–Law!”

Stack caught her arm, pinning it behind her back. Amelia winced.

“Ya’ wasn’t worried ‘bout that throwing your cat in her mouth.”

“Fuck. You.” Amelia hissed.

“We did that earlier, remember? Now, answer my question, Princess…”

“Mm–mm…”

Stack hiked her dress up from behind.

“Don’t tell me no mm–mm…”

Ameila didn’t have time to prepare for Stack shoving her forward and positioning her on all fours. He disappeared behind and wiggled his tongue all in her pussy cat with gusto. Amelia arched her back, throwing her sugar walls back on Stack’s eager tongue.

Ameila gathered the bottom of her dress in a shaky fist, giving Stack a better advantage. He slurped from her ever flowing twat with those thick fingers pinching her plump cheeks, reminding him of a glazed donut from a mixture of sweat and her sticky arousal. It was between her thighs too.

“Stack, ooo, fuck…ahhhh…”

Stack pulled his tongue from between her coochie and licked his lips.

“Who eat it better?”

“Both of ya’ll…” Ameila replied weakly.

“I eat ya’ like an ice cream cone and don’t ever get tired. Annie ain’t got shit on me…”

Stack put his whole face in it and moved his mouth in a way that had Ameila seeing stars beyond the deep, southern sky. She felt her body seize up, unable to move as her orgasm reached its plateau.

Amelia squealed, throat raw as she buried her face in the sheets. Stack reappeared, fixing her dress and chuckling when Amelia fell flat against the bed. Stack licked his lips and wiped his chin as best as he could, but it was obvious what he’d just got finished doing.

Amelia peered up at him with a death gaze. Stack blew her a kiss.

“Still think it’s both?”

Ameila sat up on her knees, pussy dripping, “Yes I do. Both of ya’ll are eaters.”

Stack smirked at her with his deep dimples.

“What?” Ameila asked.

“You an undercover freak, princess. All that doe–eyed, cute shit a cover up. Let me find out ya’ been getting down in the Big Easy.”

“Believe it or not, no.”

She flashed him a coquette smile.

“Liar.”

“I ain’t lying!”

Ameila tossed a pillow at Stack.

“No sex tonight. You wore me out,” Amelia climbed off of her bed.

Stack twisted his lips in disbelief. He grabbed Amelia’s luggage for her. She fixed herself in her mirror, turning to give Stack a quick kiss before he left the room.

Outside, Smoke and Annie were loading up Stack’s car.

“When you getting your own automobile?” Stack asked his twin.

“Gimme two weeks. This juke joint shit taking my money.” Smoke replied.

Amelia descended the stairs, inner thighs rubbing together from her cum. Annie caught up with her linking her arm with hers.

“Smoke got us a room together,” Annie whispered, “Remember that lingerie shop I told ya’ about? My friend, Frankie, owns it. She also got some other things there I plan to take a look at…”

Amelia caught Annie’s eye, a suggestive wink and a sly smirk on her face.

“What things?” Ameila asked with a soft spoken voice.

“You’ll see.”

Annie released Amelia to join Smoke in the passenger seat. Stack helped Ameila inside with a hand in his. He jogged around and hopped in. Stack pulled Amelia into him and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He sat his fedora on his head, tipping it down a little. Amelia put on a pair of sunglasses.

Smoke took off, the rumble of the car growing fainter as they disappeared down the road.

They missed the crows call. It was the day they were set to depart Clarksdale and head to Mound Bayou by train. Smoke sat up in bed, extending a hand to snatch his gold pocket patch from a side table in his old room. He read the time, cognac eyes wide with realization.

They only had an hour to spare.

Smoke kicked the sheets off and almost tripped when his ankle got tangled. He cursed something menacing, searching for his pants, tank top, and pastel blue button down shirt. Annie awoke from the commotion, watching her husband trek back and forth with a deep scowl.

“We overslept?!”

Annie quickly got out of bed, naked, voluptuous body on display. Titties swaying, belly jiggling, and ass shaking as she quickly got dressed herself. She already had an outfit laid out to wear, a coral pink lapel dress with a deep, plunging cross over neckline. It gathers under her bust to create a flattering line into a slimming fit around her waist through the fitted waistband. She paired it with stockings and T–straps with leather soles and a well-balanced, not-too-high heel. She worked to smooth down her frizzy hair that she’d styled in a side–swept bun last night but Smoke fucked her out of her scarf.

Smoke shot his wife a look, “Throw a hat on and let’s get to gettin’, Annie!”

“I still gotta brush my teeth! Got morning breath and your dick been in my mouth all night! No wonder we overslept!” Annie argued.

“Shit,” Smoke grumbled, “Let me go wake ‘em up. Bags in the car?”

“Yes, Elijah.”

Smoke left Annie to finish up. He buttoned his cufflinks, walking with long strides towards where Stack slept. He gripped the doorknob firm, twisting it to test if it were unlocked.

“Wake ya’ll asses up we finna be late!—”

Smoke halted, heels rocking backwards.

Stack popped up out of bed, soft dick swaying as he frantically got dressed. Amelia stretched her limbs like a feline before sitting up gracefully. His eyes studied her body like he was disassembling his Glock. Unwavering and deeply focused. He’d seen her body in the evening glow, but she was presented before him so beautifully and vibrant.

Smoke had to quickly pick his lip up and remember where he was and what they should be doing.

But that body…

No wonder Stack can’t keep his dick to himself. No wonder Annie got acquainted with every inch of her. After taking his press cap off, Stack stood before his mirror, doing a quick job at buttoning his shirt. Amelia slipped out of bed, quickly shielding her nudity as she rushed to grab her outfit she’d had prepared.

Smoke cleared his throat, “Shoulda asked ya’ll to get decent,” He checked his pocket watch again, “We got forty five minutes before that train leave.”

Amelia and Smoke locked eyes. She had a sleepy look in her gaze, that wild hair all over her head. She dropped the sheet from around her body, looking away, unable to hold his intimidating gaze. Smoke dragged his eyes down her body, stopping at the junction between her thighs.

He’d never seen a groom job like that on a beaver, but it was interesting. Pussy lips clean shaved but the top was covered with hair. Neatly trimmed. Stack slipped past Amelia, giving her a quick kiss to the neck. He entered his closet to grab a hat. Amelia put on a pair of bloomers and a bra before slipping on a plum–colored tea dress with a flattering cut. Cute cap sleeves hugged her shoulders and created an elegant silhouette. Her rump swayed mouthwateringly beneath her dress, the fabric brushing over every curve.

She focused on brushing her hair and then she pulled it into an elegant French roll, opening a little hand bag to grab some hair pins.

Smoke pulled himself away as Stack walked towards the door. Annie was situated at the front, ready to go. They went to brush their teeth, and Amelia did the same. They had only thirty minutes left. Outside, they each got into the car, not a word spoken between them. Stack took off with Smoke in the passenger seat and Annie and Amelia in the back.

The train station was a bustling hub of activity, playing a vital role in transportation and community life. Locomotives whistled, people scurried with bags in hand, musicians played tunes for money, tin cans and guitar cases open for you to toss coins and bills in. Train conductors shouted for people to board, booming voices breaking through the other passengers and their conversations.

Smoke had Annie by the hand, and Stack had Amelia. Stack was ready to knock a nigga unconscious for stepping on his good shoes. They stopped the trolly with their luggage before a ‘Colored’s Only’ ticket window. Smoke presented the tickets and what the young man standing before him revealed created a wave of relief.

“Train is ten minutes late.”

Stack clapped his palms together loudly, “Well alright! See?”

Annie squeezed Smoke’s bicep to ease him. Amelia beamed. They made their way over to the ‘Negros Only’ waiting area. Amelia’s eyes drifted left and right, as if she were on edge. Annie touched her forearm gently, bringing Amelia’s attention to her.

“You okay, Lia?”

Smoke and Stack focused on her as well.

“I’m fine,” Ameila half shrugged with a soft grin, “Just not too fond of train stations. Too busy.”

Smoke pulled his eyes away to look at the trains. Stack tapped him on the chest before handing him a metal cigarette box filled with pre–rolls. Smoke accepted it, placing it within the inside pocket of his tweed suit jacket.

“Make sure the house straight. If any nigga go sniffing ‘round the truck…bump ‘em off.” Smoke spoke closely to Stack, “Make sure Sammie helping out too.”

“You ain’t gotta worry ‘bout nothin’ ! Relax, Smoke. Annie, make sure he kick his feet up for a day. Nigga don’t know how to relax.”

Smoke pointed a finger at Stack, “And you play too gahdamn much. Errythang a hoot wit’ ya’ fool ass.”

Annie and Amelia laughed at the banter between the twins.

“AAAAAALLLLLL AAAABOARRRRRDDDDDD!”

Smoke fixed his eyes on a train approaching. It was their ride to Mound Bayou. The terminal started to feel claustrophobic when everyone drew closer to board. Stack helped push the trolly, weaving through the people with skill. Annie and Amelia were hand–in–hand, dashing to the door.

Smoke and Stack gave their tickets to the train conductor and their luggage was loaded. They had to wait for the white folk to board first. As soon as the coast was clear, they got in line.

Stack grabbed a hold of Amelia’s hand. He practically swallowed her mouth with his much fuller lips. He squeezed on her ass, lifting her from the ground. Ameila swatted his arm with her hand bag a little too aggressively. Stack let her down, rubbing the spot where she struck. He shook his head at her before reaching into his pocket, coming up with some cash neatly folded and held together by a clip. He counted out some money and slipped it into her bra.

“For you to get sum’ real nice. Treat yourself, Princess.”

“Stack, I can’t take this—”

“You can and you will,” Stack glanced over her shoulder to make sure they still had some time. He got closer, speaking to her with a hushed tone, “When was the last time you been spoiled, huh? Now, go and buy a sexy little number for me to see ya’ in at the Juke. Make these hating ass birds talk.”

Ameila beamed. She pulled Stack into a tight hug with her arms over his shoulders. She kissed his cheeks before Smoke pulled her off with his arm circling her waist. Stack tipped his hat at her before watching all three of them board the train. Amelia sprinted to a window to wave goodbye with her gloved hand to Stack, blowing him a kiss.

“Show me a lil’ sum’ !” Stack mouthed.

Amelia looked both ways before hiking her dress up, revealing a garter. A pretty lace one.

“OWWWW!” Stack shouted, cupping his mouth with his hands.

Smoke gave his little brother a salute before they all made their way towards an empty compartment. Smoke led the way, scoping out the train closely and with skepticism. Always on high alert.

“Here,” He shoved open a door to a privacy compartment, “Let’s go.”

Annie and Amelia made their way inside.

Smoke pulled the shades and loaded their luggage on the racks above the seats. Annie took a seat across from Amelia, cooling herself off with one of her fans. Amelia cracked a window to get some fresh air in. Smoke removed his suit jacket and sat it next to Amelia before settling beside his wife. He sat with his legs spread and an arm draped behind Annie.

“Not a long ride, ‘bout thirty minutes with one stop.” Smoke said.

Amelia popped open a book. A fairytale about a Prince Charming finding his wife. She smirked as her eyes scanned the pages, feeling herself consumed by the imaginary kingdom before her.

Smoke snuck a flask from his breast pocket. He unscrewed the cap, taking a swig. He flexed his jaw and grit his teeth from the strong hooch. Annie motioned for it, wanting to try some.

“Slow down now,” Smoke reached for the flask, “careful wit’ that there…”

“I got it, Daddy.”

Amelia peeked up at Annie through her lashes with a smile.

“Don’t go saying that we in public.” Smoke warned.

“Like we ain’t never get busy on a train before.”

Amelia’s interest was peeked. She eyed both of them, her book not so fascinating anymore.

“Annie,” Smoke looked over at Amelia, “We got company.”

“Don’t we always?” Annie cooed, “ou konnen ou renmen li, wi?”

Ameila and Annie giggled.

“Whatchu saying, woman?” Smoke squinted between the both of them.

“I’ll be back, I need to use the restroom,” Amelia placed her book down and exited the compartment, sliding the door shut slowly with a sly grin.

“You should’ve gotten a single bed instead, Elijah.”

Smoke cut his eyes at Annie before taking another swig of his liquor. Annie played with his ear, knowing damn well that’s Smoke’s spot.

“Whatever games you planning…”

Smoke was cut short when Annie’s hand grabbed him by the dick. Smoke tipped his head back and growled.

“You been fighting the urge to give into her…we gon’ have us a good time, Daddy…”

“Fuck, woman….”

Smoke felt Annie free his heavy dick and equally heavy balls. His pipe sat in her warm palm, fingers stretched around him with a firm grip. One hand wasn’t enough, Annie two–hand stroked him. Smoke dropped his head, staring down at Annie work his dick into a stiffness that had his thighs jerking.

“What you do to her, Smoke? You touch her?” Annie whispered.

His dick jumped in her hands.

“Mhm…yes…” Annie chuckled softly, “No wonder you been acting like that…”

His fingers felt good sinking into Amelia’s pussy from the back. Ever since that rainy day, Amelia had been eager to get another chance. Whenever her and Smoke crossed paths, she’d be right there, asking if he needed anything, like a good little helper.

“Need your pipe cleaned out again, Smoke?”

“Are you hungry? Annie’s busy at the shop, I can whip you up something.”

“Smoke, can you help me? My wardrobe’s stuck.”

Bending over in front of him.

Walking in from a bath with her towel on knowing he was around.

Lighting his cigarettes.

His thick fingers glided in and out of her tight puss so good he almost fucked her right there.

But he refused to touch her again without Annie being present. Because he wanted them both. At the same fucking time. And Annie wanted it too.

Smoke’s eyes snapped down at his wife sucking his dick. She used that trick tongue to lick and those succulent lips to slurp him up good. Smoke sank his fingers around her thick bun and guided her head, his hips thrusting up to meet her mouth.

“Mmmm…I love your fuckin’ mouth…feels so fuckin’ good.”

Smoke was an absolute wreck with Annie. Big, strong, mean man a submissive to his wife’s mouth and pussy. She get to talking that Creole and throwing it back Smoke gonna bust. She suck it and look in his eyes Smoke gonna drop a load in her until he can’t.

The door slid open.

Smoke tried to pull Annie off but it was too late.

Ameila slipped in and her eyes grew wide when she spotted what Annie was doing. Smoke had a tight clench of his jaw with his lips sealed but Annie throated him and tickled his sack with her tongue. Smoke released a loud moan. Amelia took a seat across from them, her eyes shining with lust and yearning.

Smoke’s brows drew tighter, his full lips moist from biting and licking them. His eyes met Amelia’s and he watched her bring her legs up. She slid her dress past her knees and opened her thighs. Her pliant thighs shot up as she removed her bloomers. She tossed them aside and didn’t hold back giving Smoke a full frontal of her pussy.

Annie looked over at Amelia while still bobbing her head and sucking her husband off.

Annie popped her lips off Smoke’s dick, “You see that pussy, Smoke? That’s the pussy you want so bad…”

Ameila used both hands to spread herself wide.

Smoke licked his lips.

“That’s the pussy I stuck my tongue in that night…” Annie taunted with a whisper so sensual Smoke’s toes curled in his oxfords, “Show him that clit, Lia…”

Amelia pulled the hood back on her clit and Smoke grunted. Her eyes fell to his dick, tracking a dribble of pre cum.

“Smoke…your dick…it’s so big…”

Smoke’s eyes rolled shut.

Thump.

He opened his eyes and right on her knees was Amelia.

Smoke watched her tuck a strand of her hair that escaped her French roll behind her ear. Lips painted a rosey red, she bat her lashes at him while stroking his thigh with her dainty hands covered in lacy gloves. The texture of the gloves made the hairs on his legs stand on end and his dick pulsate in Annie’s jaws.

Annie popped her lips off, “Here, Lia. I know you’ve been waitin’ to have some.”

Ameila gasped faintly, “Thank you, Annie…Thank you, Smoke…”

Smoke felt Annie stroke his other thigh, giving him a reassuring smile. She dragged her other hand down his torso until it rested beneath his shirt. Smoke’s chest rose and fell, anticipating the moment Amelia’s lips were wrapped around his dick.

When she opened wide and captured his dick between her lips, Smoke brought a fist to his mouth, biting down on it hard. He didn’t want to get kicked off of the train, but fuck.

Annie cupped his balls, “She feels good, Big Daddy?”

Smoke’s calloused hands stroked Amelia’s soft hair. He fell in love with the way her strands felt. Amelia looked up into his eyes while sucking.

“So eager, couldn’t wait,” Smoke shoved her head down lower, “Get more in there…you want it so bad…suck this dick…”

Annie kissed and licked his balls while Amelia sucked to her heart’s delight.

“Fucking slut.” Smoke said through clenched teeth.

Annie joined Amelia. They took turns popping their lips off Smoke’s tip, feeding each other some dick, slapping it on their tongues. Smoke had both of them by the hair.

“Both ya’ll use your tongues and lick this stick.”

“Like this?” Annie poked her tongue out as far as it could go, showing Smoke just how good her tongue can lick.

“This how you like it, Smoke?”

Ameila twirled her tongue around his leaky tip before slithering down his shaft, painting the trail of veins with her saliva.

Annie and Amelia licked Smoke up and down like he was a popsicle on a hot Mississippi summer day. He couldn’t believe how hard he was. His shit was standing straight up, balls tight, tip ready to implode like a grenade and shower both of them in cum.

Moans and whimpers echoed around the compartment. Smoke felt hot tears prick his eyes. He felt his release creep up on him so fast he didn’t have time to prepare. His hips shot up off of the seat and his cum sprung from his slit in heavy droplets. He was sweaty and spent, watching with a weak expression as both women cleaned him up.

“Ahhh….uhnnnnnnn…”

He balled his fists and another release came.

Annie had one thigh and Amelia had the other.

“You thought you had control over her, huh? Huh, Big Smoke?” Annie taunted.

Amelia giggled between flicks of her greedy tongue.

“I’m a wear both of ya’ll asses out when we get to that hotel.” Smoke threatened.

“We know.” Annie quipped.

Mound Bayou, Mississippi, served as a haven for African Americans during the 1920s to 30s due to its status as an all-black town founded in 1887 by Isaiah T. Montgomery. It offered a space for self-help, race pride, economic opportunity, and social justice in a self-segregated community, providing a refuge from Jim Crow’s oppressive racial discrimination and segregation. Mound Bayou also boasted numerous black-owned businesses, schools, a library, and other infrastructure, making it a thriving community.

They left the train which wasn’t far from where they planned to stay. The Riverside Hotel provided lodging in the Delta for traveling musicians and like-minded folk. Blues music softly played as they entered the front lobby to check in. Smoke positioned himself at the desk, cigarette sitting between his lips. He adjusted his dick, still hard from the sucking Amelia and Annie gave him.

He had a tremor in his hands. Always had since being in the German trenches with Stack. But this time, his hands shook with anticipation. Excitement. He was about to have one hell of a stay at The Riverside Hotel. Two women sitting pretty fanning themselves off with their legs crossed were to show for it. Clearly, they had a few tricks up their sleeves. Smoke caught them whispering in the backseat on the way to the train station earlier.

“Checking in, handsome?”

A kind, elderly woman recognized him and she threw her arms out for a big hug.

“Oh! Elijah! Elijah!”

“Miss Mabel,” Smoke pulled the frail woman with silver hair into his embrace, “You lookin’ good there! Missed ya’!”

Smoke smiled faintly.

“Missed you! Welcome back to the Delta! How Stack doin’ ? Still acting like a gahdamn fool?!”

“You know it. Nigga ain’t got a serious bone in his body.”

“Is that my Annie?!”

Annie’s pearly whites were on display as she gleamed. She approached Miss Mabel, avoiding kissing her temple after what she got finished doing on the train. Amelia made her way over, giving Miss Mabel a shy wave.

“This Amelia, Annie and I guest for our stay. She from New Orleans.”

“Oooh! How are you, beautiful?”

“I’m doing great, Miss Mabel. Thanks for having me.”

“Any folk of their’s is welcome. Now,” Miss Mabel slipped on her glasses so she could look at her heavy check–in book, “Let’s see…Ah!…oh…”

Smoke arched a brow, “…Errythang alright there?”

Ameila and Annie share a look.

“It’s no fuss…Robby made a mistake…he put ya’ down for a single bed room. A king sized single bed.”

All three of them locked eyes.

“If you wait around I can see what we got left. This weekend is pretty busy with the races goin’ on.”

Miss Mabel appeared stressed. She couldn’t wait to chew Robby, her grandson, out for mixing their rooms up.

“Miss Mabel, it’s alright. We’ll take the room.”

Miss Mabel peered up at him with a sorry expression, “You sure, Smoke? Ya’ know I can get ya’ another room, baby. Just–just hold ya’ horses.”

“Honest, Mama Mabel,” Smoke pressed a hand to his chest sincerely, “We be aight. As long as we got a place to stay under your roof that’s all that matters.”

Annie nodded in agreement, “Smoke’s right. We got all we need, Miss Mabel. Don’t go worrying yourself.”

“Oh,” Miss Mabel relaxed, “Ya’ll always been some good peoples. Here’s ya’ keys,” she dropped one in Smoke’s hand and one in Annie’s, “Enjoy ya’ stay!”

“Thank you,” Smoke pulled out some cash, “This should cover the room and it’s enough in there for you.”

Miss Mabel accepted the crisp bills and pat Smoke on the hand affectionately. He gripped her hand gently, giving it a little squeeze before making his way to the steps leading up to their room. Smoke sat their luggage at the bottom, clearing the way for Amelia and Annie to go up.

“Wait, Elijah—ROBBY! GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE!”

“What I do?!”

Robby Perkins, standing at six feet, seven inches, as big as Cornbread but brawny with shiny waves slicked back. Skin the color of burnt umber, his clothes from the denim coveralls he wore to the white shirt clung to his body. He stomped out from the back with a groan.

“Big Robby.”

Robby brought a fist to his mouth with his eyes bugged out in surprise.

“OH SHIT! SMOKE!”

They dabbed each other up, Robby thrilled to see his old friend he used to run around with.

Annie and Amelia said their hello’s, Robby happy to see Annie.

“Boy, help them with their things to the room!”

“Hush up, mama,” Robby grabbed two, “Let’s head on up. Smoke! How was Chicago, man? I know it was a sight to see!”

“Amazing how the brain come up with shit. Skyscrapers and busy streets. People stacked on top of each other…make you appreciate the south more.”

“More than the big city?” Robby asked with a disbelieving laugh.

They made it to the second floor.

“Ain’t nothin’ like the soil and marsh, Robby.”

Smoke flicked out a few tens for Robby.

“‘Ppreciate ya’ Smoke! Annie, Amelia…”

“Bye bye, Robby. Don’t stress Miss Mabel out now.” Annie said.

“She stress me out!”

Smoke opened the door.

It was indeed a room with a king sized bed. They walked into the rectangular room with double doors that led out to a balcony that had a tiny, wooden stool on it. There was a rounded archway that lead to a bathroom with a clawfoot tub, a sink, and a toilet. A gramophone sat in the corner on top of a little table that held old records. It smelled clean, elbow grease and all.

Annie and Amelia tested the bed. It was comfortable.

“Should be big enough for the three of us,” Annie smoothed her hands over the duvet, “Plenty of pillows.”

“It’s cozy. I like it.” Amelia said.

Smoke took a seat at the end. He bounced a little, testing the springs.

“Sturdy…”

He turned to look at both women. They were resting against the pillows, content smiles on their faces.

“I gotta make a couple stops. Here,” Smoke gave Annie some money, “I know you don’t like it, but I want ya’ to splurge. Go get cuter.”

Annie accepted the money with a roll of her eyes and a slight smile.

“Both of ya’ll. I’ll see you a lil’ later.”

“Be safe, Smoke.” Annie said.

Smoke stood, facing his woman before opening his suit jacket, revealing his pistols.

“Always.”

Smoke dipped his head and Annie slipped him some tongue. Ameila watched, twirling a strand of her hair. Smoke broke the kiss, and then he looked at Amelia. She shuddered. He didn’t take his eyes off of her as he made his way over to her. Annie sat up and watched with a bite of her lip Smoke give Amelia tongue.

Her lips were soft, almost silken, and pillowy against his own. Smoke could feel the soft tickle of her breath beneath his nose, fingers tangling in her hair as they breathed each other in. Their tongues would appear, swiping over the other, before disappearing. Smoke slipped his tongue from her mouth and Amelia thumbed away spit from his bottom lip.

“Guess you better hurry up so we can get back to this room,” Annie told Smoke with a penetrating gaze.

“I will, baby. Here…”

Smoke sat one of his pistols against the bed.

“You can handle that. Don’t be afraid to use it.”

Smoke made sure he was decent before leaving the room.

Meanwhile, Annie and Amelia decided to take a short nap before going out shopping. They slept for a few hours, waking up to a knock on the door. Annie went to see who it was, and it was someone bringing ice and two bottles of wine.

“Thank you,” Annie accepted the tray and shut the door.

She sat the tray down, and Amelia excused herself to the bathroom. Annie changed her shoes to a more comfy pair. Amelia braided her hair and pinned it up in a halo. They double checked everything before leaving the room to hit the streets of Mound Bayou.

Hand–in–hand, they pointed out a beauty salon, a nail shop, and a restaurant with a speakeasy attached they planned to dine at for the evening. They could smell the good ol’ southern cooking as they walked by. They stopped at the nail shop first, Amelia picking a bright red while Annie chose a neutral shade; soft pink.

Out on the busy street again, Annie mentioned a spot that she planned to visit to see a friend and pick up an order. They made their way to a beautifully displayed boutique with a fancy, cursive sign that read: FRANCESCA’S

Annie held the door open for Amelia.

A sophisticated blend of rich, natural ingredients like amber, patchouli, and sandalwood, with a hint of leather. Warm, resinous, and slightly sweet, evoking a sense of indulgence and exclusivity. They were surrounded by glitz and glamour with an underlying sensuality the deeper you delved. Many garments and accessories and dresses. Lingerie you’d wear for your man or woman. It was a woman’s dream.

Romantic French jazz played, taking them on a voyage across the sea, to cobblestone streets and a view of the Eiffel Tower.

C'est moi qui suis sa petite

Son Anana, son Anana, son Anammite

Je suis vive, je suis charmante

Comme un p'tit oiseau qui chante

Il m'appelle sa p'tite bourgeoise…

Josephine Baker–La Petite Tonkinoise.

Wheels from a sliding ladder paused abruptly in front of them. A graceful woman wearing a billowing, royal blue silk dress and finger–waves in her hair appeared before them. She had the eyes of a woman who was down for a good time. A smile so bright and captivating it made you bend at her will.

“Annie! ma chérie!”

Skin like antique brass, she looked radiant. Slender, tall, and goddess–like. A woman in her early forties.

“Frankie!”

They leaned in and hugged followed by a la bise. Two kisses each.

“Comment vas-tu ? Waouh ! Magnifique!”

“All’s great, Frankie. This is Amelia.”

“Bonjour, Amélia! So happy you made it Annie. I have a dress for you! And we can find a sexy little number for your friend. Follow me, mesdames!”

Amelia and Annie walked between racks of clothing, the different textures and colors exciting them. They made it to a circular room with mirrored walls and mannequins.

Francesca launched liberating slit skirts and low necklines, popularized less restrictive corsets, and promoted alluring, pared-down lingerie in the Delta. She drew inspiration from France, London, Spain, Chicago, and New York. She was born in the French colony Guadeloupe to a wealthy, white plantation owner and a Creole mother. She lived in France until the age of eighteen and then reunited with her mother in Baton Rouge where she taught herself how to sew. She took that opportunity to learn all things fashion.

She’d been friends with Annie for years, someone she could truly confide in. She’d been there for her when Smoke left those seven years ago.

“Here, Here! I saw this beautiful, sea green silk fabric during my stay in France and immediately thought of you, Annie!”

Annie covered her mouth but her eyes said it all.

Amelia was equally as stunned.

Dazzling, demure and divine.

“This is a part of my siren collection. Isn’t she lovely, darling? It embodies the essence of sophistication and allure, ensuring you not only turn heads but also command every room you enter. You have the body, the courbes,” Frankie kisses her fingers, “tu seras une vision! Come, come! Try it on!”

Frankie ushered Annie into a changing room. She turned her attention towards Amelia.

“Let’s see what we can do for you!”

Frankie disappeared, but Amelia could hear her rummaging. Amelia noticed a back room and wondered what was behind that door.

“I’ll show you and Annie that room after this. What do you think?”

“It’s…it’s beautiful…”

The color of champagne. Seductive silk.

“Step into the limelight and embrace your most radiant self with this show-stopping piece! Cuts in the sleeves…diamente clasp…look at the slit!”

It was sexy indeed. Amelia accepted the gown, Frankie leading her to a dressing room. Amelia undressed and quickly pulled on the gown Frankie gave her. Amelia stepped out, and she gasped at her reflection.

Annie appeared and Amelia almost fainted.

“Annie…”

She wore the HELL out of that gown. The sexiest thing Amelia had ever seen her wear. Annie swayed her hips as she posed, stroking her curves and smiling from ear–to–ear.

Annie noticed Amelia and her mouth dropped open.

“Lia, my goodness…”

Amelia twirled, “You like?”

“I LOVE.” Annie said.

“Both of you look breathtaking!” Frankie said.

They didn’t want to take the dresses off, but they needed to preserve it for the opening of the Juke. They got dressed and Frankie boxed their things. She showed them some lingerie pieces, some of which Amelia couldn’t resist buying. She’d never seen anything like it. So bold and daring. She bought as many sheer pieces as she could.

After they did a bit of shopping, they sat down in the circular room, sipping from glasses of champagne. Frankie had one more thing to show them. Something she’d been experimenting with to sell.

“So, I’ve been trying to expand my brand, cater to women’s needs…I’ve done some digging and this is what I found…”

Frankie scurried over to the door to the hidden room excitedly. She motioned for Ameila and Annie to follow her. Frankie unlocked the door and when she opened it, there were shelves full of boxes they couldn’t quite make out. Frankie stepped inside first, the dim lighting casting shadows over her face. Annie studied the boxes, understanding slowly creeping up her face.

“Vibrators?” Ameila questioned with perplexity, “These are…are these for…”

“Sex toys. Hidden in plain sight! Marketed to look like something else! Isn’t that wild? These were invented in 1928. I got my hands on one in New York and fell in love! Figured I’d start selling them. We gotta have a little fun for ourselves while our men away, right?”

Frankie opened a box, pulling one of them out for a closer look, “Since women ain’t owning up to using vibrators on their vaginas or breasts, it's impossible to know how many purchased this as a beauty aid versus its...other uses. I plan to host toy parties! First of its kind! Here, in my shop!”

Frankie handed the vibrator off to Annie first. It uses electricity, which was fascinating enough. Hurray for no more hand cramps — and boasts a textured knob to provide different pleasurable sensations. It was attractive packaging with a pretty green handle. Annie past it on to Amelia, watching her stroke it with mystified eyes.

“One for the each of you. On the house, mes chéries!”

“We can pay for these, Frankie,” Annie said with a meek smile.

What would Smoke think? Would he be willing to use it on Annie?

“Annie, no! These are gifts!”

“Thank you, Frankie, I’m gonna have a lot of fun with this,” Amelia’s eyes glowed with excitement.

“Je vous en prie! Of course! Any time! Now, before you leave, Annie, I have another gift. I was away in Paris and got my hands on this Josephine Baker record! A French record! Come, come!”

They returned to the front of the store, Amelia noticed lace masks. She picked up one, a pretty lavender color, securing it over her eyes. Amelia found a mirror to see how it looked.

“I’ve been dying to get my hands on this! Thanks, Frankie….”

“I see you’ve found the masks!”

Amelia removed it, placing it back where she’d found it.

“They’re sexy, yes? Take one. You too, Annie. Give Smoke a welcome home treat.” Frankie said with a wink.

Once they were loaded, they left the store, Annie still leaving Frankie some money despite her protests. They headed back to the hotel to freshen up and relax.

Annie sat in an armchair across from the bed, removing her stockings and shoes. Amelia sat in the center of the bed, the vibrator plugged in. She turned it on, gliding the little knobs across her arm. Annie opened a bottle of wine and helped herself to some. Amelia sat up on her knees, lifted the side of her dress, and ran the vibrator along her thigh. She gasped when the sensation increased.

“This is fun…I can just imagine how it feels down there…”

Annie joined Amelia.

“Try it on me,” Annie extended her arm.

Amelia moved in closer, testing it out on Annie. Annie’s breath halted and her body shivered.

“Feels good, right?” Ameila whispered.

“Yes…you wanna?”

Amelia’s eyes trailed from Annie’s lips to the device in her hand.

“Yes…yes!”

They rushed to remove their clothes, the breeze past the open balcony doors perking their nipples. Amelia reached for the vibrator again and explored further, stroking her pert nipples with it in a circular motion. Annie helped herself to Amelia’s other nipple, flicking her tongue and wrapping her lips around it to suck.

“Let me see it,” Annie grabbed the vibrator from Amelia’s hand, “Lay back a little, Lia.”

Amelia propped herself up on her elbows and spread her legs. Annie trailed the vibrations down her stomach until she was stroking her patch of pubic hair with it.

“You open up so beautifully, Lia…I can’t wait for Smoke to finally taste you…you’re so sweet and wet…”

Amelia tugged on her nipples, breaths uneven with anticipation. She tilted her pelvis upward, trying to capture that sensation on her bundle of nerves.

“You have to be patient, Lia…”

“It feels too good I can’t,” Amelia cried.

“Patience…”

“Oh, Annie…please…”

Annie smiled, “I love it when you beg.”

Amelia pleaded and begged, hips circling to get that feeling where she wanted it. Annie outlined the shape of her fat pussy, avoiding her clit. She had the knobs of the vibrator sticky from her arousal. A slippery glide.

“Annie…my button…please!”

“You’re being such a good girl, Lia…”

Annie finally gave her what she deserved.

The minute that vibrator came in contact with her clit, Amelia was climaxing. Annie teased her so much. Teased her to the point of release the second the vibration touched her clit. Amelia threw her head back and moaned so loud it could be heard for blocks.

Annie played with her clit, focusing that vibrator right there, causing Amelia to cum again. When Annie finally gave her a chance to relax, Amelia rolled over and curled into a ball.

“You okay, Lia?” Annie asked, stroking her back.

Amelia turned onto her back, wiping tears from her eyes.

“That was amazing,” She looked up at Annie, “You have to try it.”

Annie settled onto her back. Amelia climbed onto in reverse, her pussy in Annie’s mouth while she spread her legs. Annie split Amelia’s folds open, her clit just hanging there for the taking. Annie took turns sucking and licking and probing her hole with her tongue.

Amelia used one hand to spread open Annie’s hairy pussy lips and right there was her clit.

“Put it on my button, Lia. Crank it up.” Annie begged with wet lips from Amelia’s folds.

Amelia put the vibrator on the highest setting. She did what she was told, placing it over the hood of Annie’s clit. Annie immediately writhed, causing Amelia to bounce with glee.

“SHIT!” Annie shouted.

“Got ya’ creaming already, Annie!”

Annie munched on Amelia’s pussy and kept her legs back, welcoming the intensity of the vibrations. Amelia tracked a single trail of creamy white seeping from Annie’s entrance.

Annie hummed against Amelia’s pussy, clit caught between her lips. She was immediately addicted to the way that vibrator felt. And just before she could reach climax, the door to their hotel room opened.

“The fuck?”

Smoke’s hard eyes dropped to the contraption in Amelia’s hand. He cocked his head to the side before shutting the door and locking it up. He dropped his bags off at the door and as he approached them, he removed his suit jacket, unbuttoned his cufflinks, and did the same for his shirt.

He tossed everything to the floor.

“The fuck is this?”

“SMOKE!”

Annie couldn’t hold it in. Amelia giggled, enjoying the way Annie’s breasts collided with her ass from their position. Amelia shut the vibrator off and placed it on the bed so she could climb off of Annie.

Smoke picked up the vibrator by its handle.

“It’s a vibrator. We got it from Frankie.” Annie revealed.

Smoke turned it on, studying it. Amelia and Annie shared a look before their eyes glued onto Smoke’s erection creating a bulge.

Silence.

You could never tell with Smoke, but the wheels in his head were turning.

He finally looked down at them.

“Use it again.”

He handed it to Annie and they watched him settle in a chair across from them. Smoke wasted no time undoing his pants and bringing big boy out again. He stroked himself while lighting a cigarette.

“Go on,” Smoke sat his cigarette between his lips so he could roll his nut sack, “Get to it.”

Annie turned to face Smoke with her head down and her wide backside up. Amelia helped her get the vibrator into position.

“The highest again, Lia…”

The loud rumble of the vibrator filled the room. Smoke watched beyond the fog the cigarette created, eyes zeroed in on his wife with those big cheeks spread and that pink pussy with that hair he loved all open.

“Shiiiit…”

Smoke pumped his dick into his hand with his hips. He stroked it with a backhand and a front hand, making sure to give every inch of that big dick some pleasure. Last time he played with his stick was in Chicago.

Annie’s moans were deep and guttural. That vibrator must feel real good if she making all that noise.

“I’m cumming…”

Smoke poked his bottom lip out, eyes wide and fixated on the way Annie’s pussy fit over the knobs of the vibrator. He peeked between Amelia’s legs and could see the mess she’d made before he walked in.

“Switch.” He barked out.

Smoke watched Amelia get onto her back. Annie grabbed her by the neck and pulled her in for a kiss while her other hand worked the vibrator over her button. Smoke grunted when Amelia started leaking to the bed, like a running faucet.

“You leaking all over the place…that pussy wet as motherfucka…”

Smoke could feel his pre cum coat his fingers.

They were too caught up in the taste of each other’s mouths. Smoke dragged his eyes over Annie and how her breasts hung over her belly. He took in the sight of Amelia with her legs spread wide for him to see just how gushy she is.

He needed to taste her.

Annie seemed to sense his needs.

“Come, Elijah…”

Smoke put his cigarette out. He stood slowly, making his way over to them. Annie still had a hand around Amelia’s throat.

“Get down there and taste.” Annie commanded, “Regarde comme elle a bon goût…”

Smoke was hit in the face with the smell he remembered when snooping in her room. He felt his balls tighten up like he was about to cum all over himself. Smoke groaned, running his calloused hands all over the back of Amelia’s thighs.

Amelia looked down at him with those doe eyes and a slow blink. That pouty bottom lip was between her teeth. Smoke licked a long, deliberately slow trail up her slit. Annie placed a hand on the back of his head, encouraging him to enjoy. To savor.

“That’s it…that’s it, Elijah…you see it now, don’t ya’?”

“Oui…” Ameila moaned.

Smoke’s tongue curled around Amelia’s clit in a circular motion, at a snails pace, learning the taste and feel of her.

“Wrap your lips around it, Elijah…do it slow…”

Smoke followed the command of his wife and his full lips were secure around Amelia’s clit. He sucked softly, drawing back gently, savoring and taking his time. Amelia made a mess in his beard.

“Gahdamn,” Smoke spoke with a hushed tone as he took a second to admire her pussy, “taste so fuckin’ good…”

“Smoke…yes…I’ve been waiting…I needed you…”

They locked eyes. Annie spoke Creole in Amelia’s ear. Smoke went lower, slurping up her mess. His hands on her thighs tightened. Amelia moaned angelically, watching Smoke delve deeper, becoming hungrier, more ferocious with it.

“Mhm…mmm,” He moaned with his eyes closed and his mouth unable to control the way his tongue and lips worked, “hmmm….”

“She’s gonna cum, Elijah. Keep going.” Annie urged with a faint whisper.

Loud slurping came from between her legs. He did this thing with his mouth where he sucked and licked at the same time and Amelia trapped his head with her thighs.

“Don’t stop, Elijah…”

“SMOKE!”

Amelia fell apart. She pressed her hand against his forehead and Smoke smacked it away. He opened her up far and didn’t stop until he was ready. Annie played with her titties, watching with her seductive eyes.

“Oh, shit, Smoke, pleaseeeee.”

Amelia erupted. She covered her face with her arm, practically weeping.

Smoke didn’t stop.

“Give her a break, Elijah,” Annie grabbed him by his dick, tugging him, “Elijah…”

That’s when Annie realized he was punishing her. Smoke’s intimidating biceps locked Amelia in place. She looked from Annie to Smoke, tears rolling down her cheeks. Smoke sucked on her button and didn’t let off. Amelia groaned, her entire body shaking.

She was squirting in his mouth. Annie’s jaw dropped open.

Smoke released her clit and peppered soft kisses there before popping up from between her legs. Amelia was speechless. Smoke climbed over her and kissed her lips, delving his tongue deep in her mouth.

“Taste some, baby…”

Smoke shared his tongue and Amelia’s juices with his wife.

“She’s tasty.” Annie said.

“She is…can’t wait to have more.”

Amelia sat up and watched Annie and Smoke share a sloppy kiss. Annie reached for Amelia’s hand, bringing her into the session as well. All three of their tongues collided in a lustrous tango.

The bright voiced piano with its higher sound, creating that lively, clear, and pleasant sound occupied one part of the stage, shrill to some ears. The Piano that’s bass-heavy with its dark voice and booming, rich sound was on the other side.

The horns blaring and drums thumping created a ring–a–ding sound that had people grooving. Round tables and a lengthy bar made up the speakeasy. Thugs and gangsters moved back and forth, all of them recognizing Smoke. Annie and Amelia enjoyed glasses of wine while Smoke sipped on a smoked old fashioned. They had a hearty meal and delicious pie beforehand. Amelia shook her hips in her seat while Annie snapped her fingers.

“Meant to ask what you go do earlier?!” Annie asked Smoke.

“Met up with a man about selling some liquor. He wanna buy a couple crates off me. Then I had to pick up Stack’s golds. Made a pit stop to my gun man. He hooked me up with a new pistol!”

Amelia drank the rest of her wine down.

The band kicked up and Amelia stood, popping her backside. Smoke eyed her up and down with a quirk of his brow and a smirk. Annie cheered her on.

“Let me go relieve myself,” Annie leaned over to whisper something in Smoke’s ear before she got up, “Be back!”

When she left, Amelia reached for more wine but Smoke filled her glass himself.

“Thank you, Smoke.”

She gave him a bashful smile. She didn’t understand why she felt so timid with him after he was eating her pussy out multiple times earlier. She even had his dick seated in the back of her throat.

Maybe Annie’s presence gave her more confidence. Amelia could deal with Stack’s playful archetype, but Smoke is the strong, silent type. It left her unable to hold his gaze for longer than five seconds.

“Come here…”

Smoke pat the seat beside him where Annie had occupied. Ameila scooted over. She could smell his cologne. He smelled like vanilla and bourbon.

Smoke’s eyes connected with hers.

“Annie and myself want you to relax. Now, I’m speaking to ya’ because I know how I make ya’ feel. We past all that, understand? We done tasted each other more than once. It’s best you breathe…”

Amelia exhaled. Her shoulders were bunched up and she didn’t even realize it.

“Better?” Smoke asked.

“Yes.” Amelia replied with a slow nod and a smile.

“I ain’t gotta tell ya’ again do I?”

“No, Sir.”

Smoke sat his hand on Amelia’s thigh. She was wearing a shorter dress, an all black one that cinched at the waist and flared at the hips. She wore her hair in an updo with the top swirled and the back tucked under. She took a chance and wore thigh high, black stockings with a lace trim.

His finger tips stroked her inner thigh, tickling her. He inched higher, Amelia planting her hands against the table. Her back stiffened when Smoke thumbed her clit. No underwear.

Annie returned and sat in Amelia’s seat. A waiter came over, a young girl with high energy. Annie ordered another bottle of wine and another old fashioned for her husband. Annie waited until the waiter was gone before peaking beneath the table. She reached under and secured Amelia’s knee, keeping her leg open.

“Thank ya’, wifey.” Smoke said

“Welcome, husband.” Annie replied with a smile.

Smoke sank two fingers deep. He grunted, sharing a look with Annie.

“You always this messy, Amelia?” Smoke asked.

He finger–fucked her and watched the crowd. Annie accepted the wine, helping herself to some more.

“When we get back to the hotel, Lia, Me and Smoke gonna have our way with ya’…”

Amelia’s hips angled so that Smoke could have a deeper descent. She brought a handkerchief to her mouth, stifling her moans. Despite the band’s loud performance, she could hear her pussy talking.

“I know Stack opened this pussy up, but when I get up in it, you gon’ see why they call me Smoke…”

Amelia’s walls gripped Smoke’s thick fingers.

“It’s okay, Lia,” Annie soothed, “Took me a while to get used to how big he is when we first met. Once you get past the ache, it’ll feel like heaven…told ya’ that’s what comes wit’ fucking a Moore man…”

“I can feel myself—”

“Go head and rain, baby girl…”

Amelia squirted in her seat. Her head landed on Annie’s shoulder. Annie rocked her back and forth while Smoke thumbed her clit. He eased his fingers out of her gently before fixing her dress back.

It was time to go.

Smoke waved the waiter down. He paid the bill and all three of them left the table. Smoke holding Ameila and Annie by the waist as they made it out on the street. Onlookers watched with envy, wishing they had two pretty gals on their arm. They entered The Riverside Hotel, Robby perched at the front desk. He stood from his seat when he noticed them.

Bring up some warm towels and rags, plenty of ‘em. You gon’ be here if I need a change of sheets?”

Robby couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Y–yeah, Smoke. When ya’ want the towels and rags?”

“You got a cart to leave ‘em on? Just knock.”

They climbed the stairs to the second floor. Smoke opened the door to their room. Annie entered first, grabbing the Josephine Baker record to play. Smoke started to undress.

On dit qu'au-delà des mers

Là-bas sous le ciel clair

Il existe une cité

Au séjour enchanté

Et sous les grands arbres noirs

Chaque soir

Vers elle s'en va tout mon espoir…

Annie gyrated her hips and felt herself up. Cupping her titties, feeling on her rump. Ameila kicked off her black, velvet T-straps and unbuttoned her dress, revealing only a bra and her knee high stockings. Bra off, she helped Annie undress while they danced to the music. Smoke was fully naked.

Dick poked out.

Balls heavy.

Arms flexed.

He was ready.

Annie spun Amelia around and then she let go of her hand, Amelia twirling. They giggled and smiled, tipsy from the wine. Smoke had a little buzz himself from the two old fashioned glasses he had. Amelia went over to a decorative box and opened it, revealing lace masks. She handed Annie one, and helped her secure it. Amelia tied her own on.

Whatever this was, Smoke liked it.

But he was ready to get down to business.

He picked Amelia up, one arm around her waist, her hands on his shoulders. He placed her on her back and Annie joined his side.

“Damn, look at ya’…”

Smoke juggled her tits in his hand. He used her breasts like earmuffs and rubbed his face in between. One of his hands reached between her legs, pushing two fingers up in her. Annie bucked her hips, bringing one foot up to the bed. Smoke was digging in Annie’s walls deep.

Her eyes glistened past the lace of her mask, staring into her husband’s eyes weakly. His dick bounced each time Annie nibbled on his ear. Ameila brought her knees up and stroked herself. One finger sinking in.

Smoke and Annie heard the sounds her pussy made. They pulled apart, climbing up onto the bed. Both of them went on their stomachs and with each of Amelia’s legs out of the way, Smoke and Annie started licking her pussy at the same time.

“Eat this pussy up…mmmm…”

Both of their tongues fought for dominance, gliding against each other, attacking her clit from each side. Smoke gave Annie a chance to enjoy Amelia’s clit while he tongue fucked her.

“Uh-huh, uh-huh, mhm,” was Smoke’s response to Amelia’s pleas of “don’t stop, right there, feels so good, eat me up.”

Annie was on that clit, sucking softly, delivering delicate kisses with her puckered lips. Amelia sat up on her elbows, hair in her face, chewing on her bottom lip. She didn’t know who to focus on, both of them working hard to make her cum.

“She’s close…” Annie says between licks.

Smoke simply groaned and joined Annie with his tongue while his fingers sank inside of her again. To see both of them between her legs like this overwhelmed Amelia in the best way. Smoke’s handsome face and that thick tongue. Annie’s beautiful lips and soft tongue. Amelia had both hands on the back of their heads.

“Give us what we want…”Annie commanded.

“Cum in our mouth…” Smoke said with a husky tone.

Amelia shook beneath their tongues. Smoke could feel her walls clamping down on his fingers.

Husband and wife flicked tongues. Amelia gathered some of her wetness between her legs, sampling it for herself. While she sucked on her fingers, Smoke got on his knees between her legs, aiming his dick at her pussy like a bullseye. Annie spit on his tip before sucking with a greedy mouth.

“You love sucking this dick, ain’t gotta ask you…”

Annie sure did. She hummed in agreement.

Her lips popped off his tip and she grabbed him by the balls while Smoke pointed his dick for entry. Amelia’s lower lip quivered when Smoke only put the tip in.

“Ooo—”

“Didn’t I tell you to relax, gal?”

Smoke popped Amelia on her thigh rough.

“Don’t you move again.”

Smoke started from the top. Annie helped herself to Amelia’s nipples. Smoke pushed in again, feeding her pussy cat more dick than before. Amelia moaned to the ceiling, inner thighs shaking. That curve was a different sensation. Stack’s curved down, Smoke’s curved to the side. He was hitting areas she ain’t never felt with a dick.

“Oh, my goodness,” Amelia inhaled sharply when Smoke plunged deeper, “SIR!”

“Puss, so tight, look at this shit, Annie.”

Annie peered between her legs. She could see her walls tugging on Smoke in a vice grip.

“Open her up, Smoke. She need more dick in her.” Annie said.

Smoke propped himself up and dropped dick off in her wet, tight, slit. Amelia had no where to run. Annie could hear Smoke’s balls slapping Amelia’s ass and he wasn’t even stroking fast. It was a torturous game. He would delve deep, hold, then draw back to the tip, and then deep again in one fluid motion. He wanted her to feel all of him. Amelia couldn’t see past the tears welling up in her orbs.

She was stuttering, mumbling, crying.

“Smoke, my pussy, it’s so open, I feel it–I feel it stretching m–me…”

Smoke didn’t care, he increased the pace of his hips, his groin knocking against her. The bed bounced, whoever stayed beneath them were afraid they’d come through the ceiling for certain.

The sudden sensation of plunging into the wettest vessel crept over Smoke, prickly and twisting his stomach into butterflies. She was creaming on him. And they could all hear it. He had to slow down or else his dick will slip out. Smoke folded Amelia in half and put all his weight on the back of her knees. Annie had to stop sucking on her nipples to see what all that commotion was about.

“Lia…girl…ya’ making a big mess!”

Smoke slammed into her with his toes planted.

“YES!!!!!!”

He buried himself to the hilt to feel her walls convulse with her orgasm. Annie peppered kisses all over Amelia’s face.

Smoke withdrew his hips, dick swinging and dripping, “Aight ass in the air.”

Amelia’s knees wobbled beneath her as she arched her back.

“Let me see…”

Smoke stood behind her, and Annie cleaned her up and did the same for Smoke’s dick. Annie grabbed Smoke at the base and pushed him inside.

“Ahhhhhh, shiiit,” Smoke frowned his face.

He secured Amelia by her hips and pumped her from behind. Her ass ricocheted, cheeks clapping each time Smoke entered her. A wet, slippery sound mixed with skin slapping filled the hotel room. Smoke put a hand between Annie’s legs and stroked her clit, looking her in the eyes.

Amelia’s hands flailed, and she tried to push Smoke off but he secured her elbows with both of his hands and drilled into her.

“You ain’t goin’ no where, take this dick!”

Annie settled in front of Amelia. Smoke slowed down some so Amelia could eat on Annie’s cat while he fucked her from behind.

“All this ass…”

Smoke slapped her cheeks around.

Amelia tongued Annie’s clit. Annie kept her mouth where it belonged—full of pussy—with a fist full of her hair. Like a good little bitch.

Amelia’s hips shook out of control and she couldn’t utter a sound with her face buried between Annie’s thighs. Smoke didn’t care that she was cumming he fucked that pussy until she was squirting again.

Smoke had Amelia all over that bed. He was gonna get his no matter what.

Annie sat on his mouth, bouncing her pussy on his tongue while he gripped Amelia at the waist to keep her stationary over his dick while he thrusted up into her. Annie leaked down his chin and Smoke whacked her on the rump hard—left cheek, right cheek—until she came for him. All that big beauty glistening with sweat.

Annie climbed off and switched places with Amelia. Amelia sat on Smoke’s face reverse so she could kiss and suck on Annie’s titties while she rode Smoke’s big dick.

Smoke splayed his arms out while Annie did her thing, bouncing on it from base to tip, titties smacking against Amelia’s. They kissed deeply, Amelia smearing her pussy cat all over Smoke’s face.

“Yes, mhm, Daddy this big dick, uhhh, love this dick, Smoke, I love you, I love the way you make love to me, AHHH!”

Amelia could have cried from how beautiful Annie looked. She was right behind Annie, ready to flood Smoke’s mouth. Annie hopped off and Amelia leaned over to suck Smoke’s dick clean. Amelia jerked him while humping Smoke’s face.

“Annie, look how your husband eatin’ this pussy!”

Amelia squeezed Smoke’s dick with both hands and bowed her back, releasing into his mouth. She lifted to give Smoke some fresh air. Smoke was on his knees, Annie and Amelia arched over and sucking his dick in turn. Smoke had both of them by the hair, controlling their movements. He would tug on Annie to let go of his dick with her lips so Amelia could have a turn.

Back and forth. Back and forth.

“I’m a bust…”

He whacked them on the ass and fell back against the bed, his dick jumping and jerking with each swipe of their tongues and suction of their lips. His eyes rolled shut and then came the spasm of his hips. His abs flexed, body pushing to release a load so thick and creamy, Annie and Amelia had a hard time getting it all down. They had to let some of it drip over their breasts and down their chins.

Knock knock knock

“Warm towels and rags, Smoke!”

All three of them laughed, drunk off of sex. Smoke peeled himself from under both women, each of them practically clawing at him to stay in bed.

It was gonna be a long night.

“Ya’ll gotta give me a break…”

Smoke pulled on his pants and opened the door.

Robby tried to peek past him, but Smoke shut the door behind him further.

“Good lookin’ out, Robby…”

“Uh…need some help in there?” Robby asked, rubbing his hands together and licking his lips.

Smoke curled his top lip, mugging Robby down.

“Nah, nigga. I got this.”

Smoke shut the door in Robby’s face.

“Stingy,” Robby whispered spitefully as he walked off.

@blackisy2k @thickeeparker @theereinawrites @angelin-dis-guise @thee-germanpeach @harleycativy @slut4smokemoore09 @readingaddict1290 @blackamericanprincessy @aristasworld @avoidthings @brownsugarcoffy @ziayamikaelson @kindofaintrovert @raysogroovy @overhere94 @joysofmyworld @an-ever-evolving-wanderer @starcrossedxwriter @marley1773 @bombshellbre95 @nybearsworld @brincessbarbie @kholdkill @honggihwa @tianna-blanche @wewantsumheaad @theethighpriestess @nearsightedbaddie @charmedthoughts @beaboutthataction @girlsneedlovingfanfics @cancerianprincess @candelalanegra22 @mrsknowitallll @dashhoney25 @pinkprincessluminary @chefjessypooh @sk1121-blog1 @contentfiend @kaystacks17 @bratzlele @kirayuki22 @bxrbie1 @blackerthings @angryflowerwitch @baddiegiii @syko-jpg @inkdrippeddreams @rolemodelshit

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jeonginsleftcheek · 17 days ago

Text

Needy

pairing: lee felix x afab!reader

genre: smut, headcanons

warnings: unprotected sex, breeding kink, clit play, fingering, oral (f)

a/n: just a lil something!🤭

needy!lix who gets so desperate while waiting for you to come home that as soon as you enter the apartment, he is all over you. hands roaming all over your body, lips attacted to your cheeks and neck, sloppy wet kisses left everywhere.

needy!lix who can't wait anymore and starts stripping you immediately, even when you stumble and chuckle while he pushes you towards the bedroom, surprised by how much he wants you.

needy!lix who takes a moment to look at you when you're naked and sprawled under him and he almost cries because he loves you so much and he just needs to touch you and feel you.

needy!lix who grabs everywhere on your body where he can, his kisses equally worshipping and desperate as he runs his lips and hands all over your skin.

needy!lix who gets impatient when he is like this and he just wants to make you cum so he spreads your legs and uses his skilful fingers to drive you insane as he plays with your clit.

needy!lix tortures your clit and feels you getting so incredibly wet as he circles it, changes the movement, left and right, up and down, presses harder into it then goes lighter and slower, making you cry out every time he changes the pace or the pressure. he moans together with you because seeing you falling apart just because of his fingers almost makes him cum in his pants. your legs almost close on their own because it's too much but he presses them open, laying his thigh over yours and forcing you to stay spread out for him as he pushes you to the edge. 'i need you to cum before i taste you, please baby,' he groans lowly as he moves his fingers fast against your bundle of nerves.

needy!lix is between your legs the moment you cum, his tongue catching your juices and licking them up, swallowing it all as he moans and whimpers telling you how heavenly you taste. he is so messy as he eats you out, not even caring about his chin and nose becoming wet with your essence. he wants to drown in you. he pushes his tongue in as deep as he can and fucks you with it, his nose brushing against your already tortured clit. his hands grab at your thighs as he keeps your legs open, muttering nonsense into your pussy as he gets drunk on you. he'll swallow and lick up everything you give him.

needy!lix who pushes his fingers inside you and watches you pussy greedily take them as if he is mesmerized, making you feel a little self-conscious with the way he stares at it. 'you're so beautiful,' he murmurs and you forget about feeling exposed or embarrassed when he praises you and fucks his fingers into your sweet spot, his lower half rutting into the bed.

needy!lix who starts begging when he can't wait anymore. 'please baby, let me. i need you, let me have you.' of course, you won't deny him, you need him just as much.

needy!lix who pushes in easily, your pussy already used to the stretch of his girth and length. he immediately gets lost in you, even more pussy drunk than before as he grips your hips and buries his face in your neck, nipping at it and muttering nonsense.

needy!lix who fucks you into the mattress as if his life depends on it, as if it's the last thing he'll ever do and you can't do anything but lay there and take it when he gets like this. he almost starts crying into your neck with how good you feel and how tight your pussy squeezes around him.

needy!lix who gets close embarrassingly fast and he moans into your ear, begging for you to let him cum inside you. you tell him that he can but he doesn't even hear you at first, lost in the moment as he holds onto you tightly and fucks into you hard, still begging. 'please, let me cum, fill you up. need to cum, breed your pussy. please, baby!'

needy!lix who cries out when you clench around him while cumming again and he finally spills inside you, clutching onto you and muttering your name like he is praying to god.

needy!lix who shakes from the intense orgasm he just had and you have to grab his face and make him look at you, help him come down as you call his name gently.

needy!lix who has to take a few moments to even register your face in front of him because of the intensity you both just experienced.

needy!lix who holds onto you and whispers how much he loves you repeatedly, a single tear sliding from his cheek down to your skin and reminding you just how whipped he is for you and how much he adores you.

needy!lix who sleeps like a baby after getting what he needed, though when he wakes up in the morning and sees your naked body next to his, he will beg again and you'll let him come home like you always do.

@moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @porangporangmeong @laylasbunbunny @laughatdanger @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @painterhyunjin @moon-ttokki-x @saintcosette @ooshyana @frehyun @scarlet789 @skzdust @schniti-is-in-the-house @hwangjoanna @sona1800 @channiesrightasscheek @justwonder113 @yvettemint @inaribu00 @httpdwaekki @possum-playground @ria-april @yn-x-them @mariahxrrera @0omillo0 @halfwinterhalfuniverse @cooldeermagazine @delulkpopstan143 @todorokiskitten @compersian @azxulskz @stayp1eceposts @minniesverse @skzdreamer13 @0325ale @j-ji-jia @shannthewriter @mhluvie @my-neurodivergent-world @hyyunjinnn @spookybuttsstuff-blog @pancake-freckle @felixsbrowniesarmystayengene @minhooofr

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thexsilentxwordsmith · 1 year ago

Text

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Simon needing to hold you after a bad day.

The tiny apartment was completely silent as Simon unlocked the door and stepped inside, head hung low and shoulders tense. Lights were turned down, tv was off; you were most likely already asleep by now. It was late, much later than he had told you he’d be back, but he had been struggling with the weight of his thoughts again today and had barely made it in. He would have let you know that he was going to be late… it was just…he couldn’t find the will to even shoot you a quick text.

It wasn’t like him to be concerned about who knew where he was or what he was doing, choosing to distance himself from everything and everyone that could potentially catch a glimpse of him cracking behind the mask, but right now all he wanted was to get back to the place he called home before he fell apart and the world would swallow him whole.

As quietly as he could he set his things down beside the door and continued on through the flat, catching little bits of you everywhere: your shoes lying scattered by the wall, the blanket you’d just been curled up in tossed haphazardly in a bundle on the sofa, a mug on the coffee table that had the remnants of your drink stuck to the inside. Scattered bits of you everywhere across his life as little reminders of what he had that waited for him here and for the first time all day it felt a little easier to breathe to know his angel was close by.

Passing near the kitchen, Simon spotted a piece of paper with his name scribbled on the front waiting for him on the countertop, your familiar handwriting obvious to his eye. He picked it up and unfolded it.

Hey baby,

I really tried to stay up, I promise, but you know how work has been kicking my ass lately. I thought maybe I could just take a nap until you got in, but I was worried that if I laid down I wouldn’t wake up, so I thought I’d leave this here for you to find. Didn’t want you to think I forgot about you. Just wake me when you get in, alright? I don’t care what time it is, I want to see you!

Love you.

P.S. I left some dinner in the fridge if you haven’t eaten yet. We can reheat it and eat it together. XOXO

Christ, what did he do to deserve all this?

Always looking out for him, always making sure he had a place back in the real world whenever he came home. He held that piece of paper between his hardened fingers, the note more significant than it should have been after the type of day he had. You were the closest to heaven as he could get, more than he ever thought he would get to have and that’s why it was you he was trying to break down that wall to come to for comfort.

His sight flicked to the fridge where you said you’d left him something; he was definitely starving, but just the thought of the effort it would take to eat right now was too much and the knot that rested in the pit of his stomach made him too nauseous anyway. There was something that would fill him far better than food could and he knew just where to find it now.

Moving on to the living room, he set himself down heavily on the couch and began to remove his boots and the outer layers of his clothing along with his mask, stripping away all the bits of his life as the stone cold sniper now that he was safe here in his little sanctuary. Stripped bare until he was down to his boxers, Simon gently crept towards the back of the apartment hoping he would make it to the bedroom before this feeling took him.

Closer and closer he walked towards the other half of his heart.

The door stood slightly ajar to invite him inside and as he stepped up to it, he caught the hushed, rhythmic sounds of your breathing as you slumbered. It sounded so peaceful that he could have stood there in the dimly lit hallway and listen to it all night long. Just a few more steps, barely any distance left, and he would truly be home.

The room was completely dark save for the small crack in the curtains that let in just a bit of light from the streetlamp outside, helping him to find his way through the maze of darkness. As those brown eyes adjusted to the lack of light, Simon turned his attention to the bed and his heart skipped a beat. There you were: the outline of your body silhouetted under the covers, your head buried in your pillow, all cares left behind as you slept.

No sound did he make as he crept to the edge of the bed and lifted the sheets so that he could climb inside and up against your body laying in the center. One strong arm slipped up under your pillowed head while the other wrapped around your waist until you were encircled and he pulled you slowly so that your back rested up against his chest. His body molded into yours still warm from being wrapped up tight.

You stirred awake gently at the feeling of that familiar large body suddenly laying beside you. “Hey you,” you whispered sleepily, a smile on your lips as your eyes fluttered as they worked to open. “Tried to wait up, but I got so tired I had to go lay down. I’m sorry, but I’ll make it up to you.”

Only silence greeted you as a response. No chuckle at your predictability, no picking remarks about how you couldn’t even stay up to see him, just the sound of labored breaths in and out as he lay there in the darkness curled up against you.

Silence only meant one thing and you knew it well.

“You okay baby?” you asked, but again there was no answer. Only the squeeze of his arm around your waist pulling you in tighter to his chest gave you any sort of reply as Simon’s nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck, his eyelashes brushing over your skin.

It was clear just from the silence that he was far from okay, that he must have been bottling this up for God knows how many hours so that the world would not see that he was not always the tough, put together soldier he was supposed to be. But he could not hide it from you...he didn't want to hide it from you.

You heard him inhale deeply, trying to capture as much of your scent as he could until it filled his head: your natural musk mixed with the smell of the sheets and added hints of shampoo and body wash. That comforting scent that belonged to only you that he couldn't ever get enough of, the one that helped to relax his troubled mind. Instantly the tension he had been carrying like a boulder upon his shoulders all day finally released him from its stranglehold.

Gentle, exploring hands tentatively went up under your baggy shirt, one of his old worn ones you loved to wear to bed to keep him close even when he wasn’t there, as he just wanted to make contact with all that delicately soft skin. He traced over curved paths he knew by touch alone: it was soft, it was familiar, it was safe and his heartbeat slowed as the ache in his chest dissipated enough that he could finally talk.

“Bad day,” he whispered finally, warm breath against your shoulder. "Really fuckin' bad day... again."

You rolled over in his arms until you came face to face with those sad auburn eyes, moved by the shame in his tone. It broke your heart that each time he had one of these days he felt such guilt about it, as if he simply should have been over it all by now, as if he wasn't human, but you were not about to let him overthink the struggle. There was nothing to be shameful about.

“I’m sorry baby. These things just happen, you know, but its alright; we'll get through it together, ” you said quietly, fingertips gently running over the line of his eyebrow, down his cheekbone and further to his jaw in soothing circles.

Together.

Simon closed his eyes and eased into your hand as you traced patterns across his temple and through the cropped sides of his hair, letting the vile, churning thoughts rummaging around in his brain to fall away. No one else could ever see him like this save for you, no one else's touch he craved more than anything to bring him back into himself after the day had brought him down so low.

He brought his hand up and placed the tough palm over top of yours to hold it firmly against his cheek as if to make sure that all of this was real, that you were not simply a mirage cast by his broken mind.

“You’re home now, baby,” you reassured him as he took deep breaths in and out with his eyes closed, only wanting to feel you. “It’s gonna be okay, I got you.”

Home, still such a strange word for him.

Wherever you were that was home. Not a place, but a person, one who made certain that no matter how far he drifted she would always pull him back in. Simon had never had such a tether before, but fuck did he need it. He could feel it like medicine running through his blood, when you held him he could feel the chemicals rush to soothe the gaping wound in his heart.

Pulling your hand off his cheek, he brought it to his mouth and pressed his lips to the surface before leaning in to give one to your gentle lips. You embraced him back with such tenderness as if to remind him of that promise you had made to each other that neither of you would have to traverse the hell of this world alone.

“Home,” he repeated the tender word in his gravely tone, letting the emotionless second mask fall away. "I hope ya know... that you are my home, sweetheart."

You smiled. "You're mine too, Simon."

He took a deep breath, trying to swallow down the lump in his throat. "Bein' near ya is the only fuckin' thing that seems to help quiet the shit in my 'ead these days."

Pulling him back in, you gave him another kiss. "Then get nice and close," you said softly as you squirmed up under him more, setting his arm back over you.

Securing his arms around you again he moved over top of you so that his head rested against the middle of your chest, ear pressed in against your sternum to listen to your heartbeat rhythmically thump inside. With his hand still inside your shirt he drew his fingertips along your bare hips, not wanting anything more than your company tonight.

Your calming fingers ran through his short hair and over his scalp as he counted the beats of your heart until he melted into your body. Discussion could happen later if and when he was ready, for now this was all he needed. However long he wanted to cling to your torso, you’d let him.

You were his life raft, pulling him back in and no matter how far he drifted and it was because of you that for the first time in his life he didn’t feel like he was going to get lost.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #ghost cod #ghost mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simin ghost riley #ghost simon riley #simon riley fluff #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #ghost #cod ghost #ghost call of duty

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the-tiny-mia · 2 months ago

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Reply All (H.S. Fic) | Chapter 1

General Masterlist fratboy!harry x fem!reader

Summary: Y/N and Harry were childhood best friends, inseparable through every laugh, secret, and growing pain. But high school brought unspoken feelings and decisions that tore them apart, leaving both with unanswered questions. Years later, a class project challenges them to face their shared past and uncover the truths they’ve both been running from. And a wrong click unveils the past and what will be the future. A/n: omggg my first series!!! i'm so so so excited for this one, i literally wrote this sooo fast cause i was soooo excited! i hope you all like this too! let me know any feedback you may have. Thanks to my one and only @eileenrry for being my designated proof reader 💖 Word count: 3.4k Warnings: This part has a lot of angst, and the series WILL HAVE smut, so +18 (not on this part tho). Mentions of alcohol, smoking, betrayal.

“Do you want to sit with me?” Said a soft voice, tiny, cutest at it’s best. Your tiny hands were clenched around the straps of your oversized backpack, and even though you were small too, everything around you felt impossibly big—the chairs, the poster boards on the wall, the toys lined up in the back of the room. You felt like the smallest, quietest flea. You weren’t the kind to make noise; you liked to keep to yourself, tucked safely behind your mother’s legs, where the world couldn’t quite reach you.

So when your parents sat you down and said you’d be moving to another city, the world tilted. Everything became a blur of cardboard boxes and goodbyes. You had to choose which plushies to keep, which ones to let go—and somehow, even at that age, you knew those choices mattered. You were so young, but you remember it like it was yesterday. Not just because it was the first time life ever truly scared you, but because it was also the beginning of something. Because that’s how you met Harry.

So when that tiny voice said, “Do you want to sit with me?” you turned your head and saw him—a curly-haired boy with big green eyes and lashes so long they looked like they’d been painted on. He was just looking at you, calm and curious. And all you could do was nod and take the empty seat beside him.

His table was a mess of color and chaos—crayons scattered everywhere, a pencil poorly sharpened on both ends, and an eraser that had once been white but was now stained with every color imaginable. His workbook lay open, half-filled with scribbles and drawings, and across the top in big, uneven letters, it read: Harry.

“Y/N,” you whispered, barely louder than a breath, unsure if he even heard you.

He glanced up, then gave a small nod and a crooked smile. He didn’t say anything, but it was enough. He seemed a little shy too—not as much as you, of course—but just enough to make you feel like maybe you weren’t alone.

🌷

Shy questions turned into giggles soon enough. It turned out you had more in common than you ever expected—both from different cities, both fans of mixing vanilla and strawberry ice cream, and both a little hopeless at math. It was the kind of quiet connection that didn’t need much explaining; it just was.

"Can you lend me the pink crayon?" he asked, eyes focused on the page in front of him, carefully coloring inside the lines of his workbook.

"No," you said, without hesitation.

He looked up, clearly offended. "Why not?"

You shrugged, holding the crayon a little closer. "Because it’s my favorite one."

He blinked at you for a moment, as if trying to decide whether or not to be mad—then smiled like he’d just learned something important about you.

🌷 The class pictures from the early years of middle school began to pile up, slowly forming a little bundle alongside birthday snapshots and silly, candid moments. What once were debates over whether dolls were better than dinosaurs had turned into whispered promises of being best friends forever.

There was a problem with that. It was called high school—or maybe it was called hormones, or growing up, or feelings, or the chaos of social interactions. It was trying alcohol for the first time, coughing behind Harry’s house after taking a sip that burned too much. It was wheezing with laughter after trying a cigarette he somehow managed to swipe from an old lady at the bus stop.

There were countless school dances where the two of you showed up as best friends—even when a girl got the courage to ask Harry, and he politely turned her down. It was like a secret everyone knew, yet somehow, not fully spoken. Something unconfirmed, but undeniable. You two were untouchable in the eyes of the rest of the school—not in a popular, flashy way, but in a quiet, unbreakable one. No one ever teased you about being a couple, but, They knew. Harry knew.

You? You were a bit oblivious.

And then it happened—at a definitely not parent-supervised party—your first kiss. His first kiss. But not with each other.

"Y/N! Your turn!" called Aria —the redheaded girl who, after Harry, was the one you trusted most. She was the one you talked to about period stuff, what to wear, the latest makeup trends, and gossip about the newest hot celebrity.

You looked at the bottle spinning in front of you. Classic. You weren’t even sure why you agreed to join the game in the first place—but then again, most teenagers don’t really know why they say yes to things at parties. Especially when alcohol is disguised as “Just flavored water, Dad, I swear.”

The bottle spun in what felt like slow motion—maybe because of the flavored water in the red cup you were holding, or maybe because you were too busy scanning the circle, trying to figure out which of the guys would be the least awful choice for your first kiss. Of course, there was Harry—though at the time, you were completely oblivious to how nervous he looked. You wouldn’t have minded kissing him; actually, in the roulette spinning inside your head, he was your first choice. But not because you wanted to kiss him—more like, because you really didn’t want to kiss any of the others.

When the bottle finally stopped, the tip pointed at Phil. You gave a small, nervous smile. Not because it was Phil. Not even because it wasn’t Harry. Just because it was your first kiss. And as the group broke into a chorus of “oooh!”s, you leaned in and had it—your first kiss.

It was short. Dry. No spark. Just a kiss.

And kind of the same thing happened with Harry.

When it was his turn, the bottle also seemed to spin in slow motion—at least for you. Your brain kicked into the same overthinking mode, running through the roulette of girls he could possibly kiss. The only one you didn’t mind was Ivy—the shy new girl who was moving away soon, so it didn’t really matter in the long run. You hadn’t even realized you were holding your breath until the bottle landed on her, and you exhaled quietly, telling yourself it was fine.

What you didn’t stop to question was why you’d been thinking all of that. Or why your chest felt tight and hot with jealousy when you watched Harry lean in and press his lips to Ivy’s.

It was quick. Innocent. But still, it stung.

After the kiss, Harry didn’t even glance at Ivy. He looked straight at you. And you looked right back, both of you smiling—soft, uncertain. No words needed. At this time it was like you both telepathically communicated. The OMG we just had our first kisses. It was written all over your faces.

As time passed and 10th year rolled around, everything seemed pretty normal between the two of you—or at least, you thought it was. Nothing about Harry felt off. Nothing seemed different. Until that one Math class.

"The next assignment will be in pairs. Choose and write your names on this list on your way out," the teacher announced. The classroom erupted in whispers and shifting chairs as everyone scanned the room for their ideal partner. But you didn’t even glance around—you didn’t need to. You and Harry were always partners. Always. It was just a given.

But then, you heard his voice beside you. Heard the sound of his finger tapping on Theo’s shoulder in front of him. And then the words that made your stomach twist.

"Do you want to be partners?" Harry asked.

Theo looked just as confused as you felt. He even glanced back at you for a second, like he was waiting for some kind of explanation. But you had nothing to offer—your face mirrored his.

"Uh… yeah?" Theo replied, hesitant.

"Perfect. I’ll text you after school," Harry said with a shrug, already moving on.

You sat there, mouth slightly open, heart racing with that slow, creeping sting of being blindsided.

"What was that?" you asked.

"What was what?" he said, feigning innocence—but you knew him too well. He knew exactly what he did.

"Why did you ask Theo? What about me?"

He shrugged again. "What about you?"

"What—Harry, we’re always partners."

"I know… it’s just..." He sighed. "We’re both kinda bad at math, and I figured I should pair with someone who can, you know… help me out a bit."

You stared at him. That wasn’t the truth. Not fully. You knew it. You felt it.

But the clock was ticking, and you didn’t have time to process it—let alone find a partner who wasn’t a complete disaster. So you swallowed it. The confusion. The hurt. The shift. And kept moving.

You tried to brush it off the first time. You told yourself it didn’t mean anything. But then it happened again. And again. And again. Then he transferred to different classes entirely. Each time came with the same excuse: “I’m just trying new things.” You questioned him—of course you did. Over and over. But it was all nonsense. Every conversation either turned into a fight or ended with one of his hollow, careless excuses.

So you stopped. You decided not to waste any more time chasing someone who clearly didn’t want to be caught.

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like hell. Him sitting at different tables during lunch? Level 1. Choosing other people for group assignments? Not answering your texts? Level 2. Taking a completely different route home just to avoid walking with you? Level 3. Laughing—no, giggling—like he was having the time of his life with people who weren’t you? Level 4.

There were tears. So many tears. And there were questions. A constant, suffocating loop of them. Was it something I said? Something I did? Was I a bad friend? But no answer ever came. Just more silence. And more tears.

You weren’t technically alone. You had other friends. But you didn’t have Harry. You didn’t have the one who could read you with a glance. The one who could sense your mood from just the tone of your “hello” in the morning. You didn’t have the one you wanted.

Harry wasn’t there anymore. Not for the 3 a.m. calls when you couldn’t sleep. Not to debrief the daily drama. Not to groan through math class or whisper jokes behind textbooks. And worst of all…As time passed, he wasn’t there for your first heartbreak. He wasn’t there for prom. He wasn’t there to hold your hand when you both tossed the graduation caps into the sky.

He was gone.

🌷

It wasn’t really a surprise when you both looked up and locked eyes in the same introductory group on the first day of college.

Neither of you had talked about which colleges you were applying to. Neither of you knew what the other wanted. Because by then, communication had been reduced to absolutely nothing—0%. Silence and space had taken over. So no, it wasn’t exactly shocking when you ended up in the same college. Same career path. Same group. Because the truth was—you’d always been similar.

You’d dreamed similar dreams. Wanted similar things. And no matter how hard you tried not to be, you were always pulled in by each other’s gravity. Even if you didn’t want to admit it. Even if you swore you were over it. Even if you told yourself it didn’t matter anymore.

There he was. Harry.

And suddenly, the air between you was thick with everything unspoken.

Either of you could’ve asked to transfer. Changed groups. Switched classes. Taken the easy way out.

But neither of you did.

Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was the silent, mutual attempt to prove there was nothing left between you. That you were both mature enough. That you could handle being around each other. Just classmates. Just two people, casually coexisting in the same space.

But the truth?

The truth was that something deeper—something neither of you could name or admit—was keeping you both exactly where you were. You swore it was you just being mad but maybe there was a kind of magnetic pull that wasn’t strong enough to bring you together, but just strong enough to keep you from walking away.

You didn’t even tried to talk to him, or even look at him, always avoiding as much as you could,

Your roommate, Juliet, noticed it from day one. The way your entire posture shifted when Harry entered the room. And of course, how you never actually looked at him, not for longer than a blink.

Juliet was bold, blunt, and had a talent for digging into things you weren’t ready to unearth.

“You two have history,” she said one night, cross-legged on her bed, spooning peanut butter out of the jar like it was therapy. “You don’t flinch like that for someone you barely know.”

You rolled your eyes. “We used to be friends. That’s all.” not even bothering to look up from the book in your hands

“Right,” she said, dragging the word out like it had a hundred letters. “And I ‘used to be’ a vegetarian”

She didn’t let it go. She was always trying to get you to talk to him. “Just say hi like a human,” she’d whisper. Or “What’s the worst that could happen? You explode?”

But she didn’t know the weight of it all. She didn’t know that silence between you and Harry wasn’t empty—it was loaded. History, hurt, heartbreak—all packed into every glance, every ignored moment.

Still, Juliet was relentless. And part of you—maybe the part that still remembered how it felt to laugh with him—was kind of glad she was. Beneath all that pain and being mad at it, there he was your Harry, your best friend.

You stopped going to college parties. At first, it was subtle. A few “maybe next time”s.A couple of “I have a headache”s. But Juliet caught on fast.

“You’re not fooling anyone,” she said one Friday night, standing in front of a mirror, fixing her hair while you curled up under your blanket like it was a shield. “You’re not going because of him, aren’t you?”

You didn’t answer. You didn’t need to. Because the idea of walking into a room and locking eyes with Harry—of pretending you didn’t notice each other, or worse, pretending you were fine—made your stomach twist.

“I just don’t want it to be awkward,” you muttered.

Juliet scoffed. “It’s college. Everything’s awkward. You think Harry’s out there dancing on tables and living his best life?” She paused. “He never goes either, you know.”

That made you sit up and frown “What?”

“I’ve literally never seen him at a single party. Not even the ones his friends throw,” she said. “You two are like magnets repelling each other, except you’re both convinced the other one wants nothing to do with you.”

You stayed quiet, but her words stuck. Because you hadn’t considered that maybe—just maybe—he was avoiding it too. Not because he didn’t want to see you… But because he didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable. Of course it was. He was Harry.

That realization didn’t make things easier. It just made your heart ache in a different way.

🌷

It was just another Thursday. Gray skies outside the window, students half-asleep in their chairs, laptops open but barely touched. You were already zoning out when Professor Merrick’s voice cut through the hum of the classroom.

“For your next assignment,” she said, tapping a stack of handouts on her desk, “you’ll be creating a personal narrative. Think of it as storytelling with a purpose—an exploration of the moments that have shaped you.”

You blinked. “What kind of moments?” someone asked from the back.

“Anything that’s changed you,” Merrick replied. “A loss. A revelation. A success story. A moment of heartbreak or clarity. Something real. Something raw.”

A collective groan passed through the room.

“And,” she added, lips twitching into the faintest smile, “you may do it solo, or… in pairs. Your choice. But if you choose to work with someone, the project must reflect both stories—how they intersect, mirror, or clash.”

You felt your stomach drop. This was the kind of assignment you hated. Not because you couldn’t do it, but because you could. You had too much material. And you knew exactly what your story would be… if you were brave enough to tell it. You didn’t look at Harry, who sat two rows across and one seat behind. But you could feel him. That weird awareness that never really went away.

Juliet leaned over, whispering, “You’re doing it solo, right?”

“Obviously,” you whispered back, already scribbling ideas down just to look busy.

But still, your heart thudded louder than before. Because even if you hadn’t looked at Harry, he had looked at you.

Professor Merrick began passing the handouts down each row, but you barely glanced at the paper when it reached your desk. The words blurred together—“personal narrative,” “emotional depth,” “authentic voice”—all sounding a little too close to home.

“As always,” she said, stepping back in front of the board, “I’ll be sending the full assignment details to your emails this evening. Requirements, due dates, guidelines—all there. This is not just about writing well. It’s about honesty. And trust me, I’ll know when it’s not real.” A low murmur rippled through the class again.

“You have until Monday to choose whether you’re working solo or with someone. If you pick a partner, let me know by then. Otherwise, I’ll assume you’re flying solo.” She smiled faintly, but there was something knowing in her expression. Like she enjoyed watching students squirm under the weight of their own unspoken stories.

“Alright, that’s all for today. Class dismissed.”

Chairs scraped the floor as people stood up, stretching and groaning. You shoved the handout into your bag without a second glance.

Juliet nudged you as you walked out. “Maybe this is your sign.”

You frowned. “Sign for what?”

She raised an eyebrow. “To tell the story you’ve been dying not to tell.”

You didn’t answer. Because the thought had already crossed your mind. And because behind you, Harry was still sitting at his desk, staring at the same sheet of paper you hadn’t read either.

🌷

Days later, you were curled up on your bed, laptop perched on your knees, the soft hum of lo-fi music playing from your phone. The Word document on your screen was still blank—just a blinking cursor mocking you, waiting for the first sentence that refused to come.

You had typed and deleted the same line four different times. Nothing sounded right. Nothing felt right. Your story was too tangled.

And then, like some cruel joke, your email pinged.

New Message: STORYTELLING PROJECT CLASS 305 — Personal Narrative From: Harry Styles To: Class 305

You stared at the subject line, confused. You hadn’t spoken in weeks—not even a polite nod in the hallway. Why would he be—

Then you clicked.

And everything shifted.

The message wasn’t meant for you. It wasn’t meant for the whole class. It was clearly written for one person—Noah. He was asking if Noah would be his partner, saying he didn’t want to do the project alone.

“I was thinking of writing about losing my best friend. Her name’s Y/N. She’s also in the class. I was in love with her. I never told her. I pushed her away because I thought if I kept my distance, the feelings would fade. But they didn’t. I made it worse, got out of my hands, I lost her anyway. But of course i can’t mention her name or make it too obvious it’s about her so i figured i could use a partner to help”

Your heart stopped. Again.

“Anyway, It was my fault. I thought I was protecting something, but I ended up breaking it. I don’t know if your story’s anything like that. Just figured I’d ask. Also, can I get your number?”

You sat frozen. For a second, your brain refused to process what your eyes had read. The story. The feelings. The name. Your name.

And then you realized it—he had clicked Reply All. You weren’t supposed to see this. No one in the class was supposed to see this.

You blinked, staring at your screen in disbelief, heart pounding loud in your chest. It was like someone had dropped a confession straight into your lap, and now you didn’t know what to do with it.Because the problem wasn’t that Harry had sent it everyone

The problem was…Everything in it was true. PART 2

Taglist: @hermionelove

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angelbaby-fics · 1 year ago

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Daddy stucky x little reader where she loves taking naps especially With her daddies so can you do something where the little one is in a very very young headspace like a few months or a year and they are at the avenger tower but she sleeps most of the time and just wanna near to her daddies

Naptime With Daddies

Word Count: 450

A/N: ohhh this is on of my favorite concepts ever!! i love thinking about this!!!! especially when i'm stuck in public somewhere & i just wanna go to sleep, i just daydream about daddies 💕

Some babies had blankies, others had stuffed animals, a sentimental item that went with them everywhere. You were a bit different though - instead of cloth comforts, your favorite things to snuggle with were your daddies, Bucky and Steve. Any time you had to sleep, you’d prefer it to be in their arms, and if you were in their arms, chances are you’d fall asleep sooner rather than later. You just couldn’t help it, the serenity of knowing how safe you were in their trustworthy embrace, nothing could ever hurt you there. And they didn’t mind it one bit.

With their exceptional strength, either one of them could hold you for hours at a time without getting tired. When he took you grocery shopping, Steve would push the cart with one hand and hold you in the other. If you stayed awake, he’d point to the things he needed, and you’d grab them and toss them in the cart. By the end of the shopping trip, though, you’d usually nodded off, face smooshed into Steve’s shoulder as he checked out.

Bucky’s chest was more preferable to you than any mattress. The two of you could more often than not be found on the big sofa in the living room, you asleep on him while he read a book or watched a movie, your presence soothing him. If you were still napping in Bucky’s arms by the time he needed to go to a therapy appointment, he’d bundle you up in a blanket and just bring you along. He’d even bought you a cute pair of noise canceling headphones, so you wouldn’t have to hear anything that wasn’t safe for little ears.

All the other Avengers were used to seeing you sleeping through meetings. Sometimes it took all their super strength not to get distracted by how peaceful you looked in Steve’s arms as he tried to get them to pay attention to the mission. Tony would often crack jokes to hide his jealousy; Peter was far too rambunctious to sit through a whole meeting, let alone nap through one. Sometimes you even slept so soundly, you’d make it in and out of the meeting and back home without even waking up.

Your favorite by far, were the days when neither of them had to work, or shop or do anything at all. These days were somewhat hard to come by, since your daddies were so important and responsible, but every so often the schedules would perfectly align. The only time you’d get up from the bed would be to cuddle on the couch for a while just to get a change of scenery. These were the best naps of all.

#little!reader #stucky x little!reader #agere fic #daddy!stucky x little!reader #daddy!stucky #bucky x little!reader #daddy!bucky #daddy!steve #steve x little!reader #steve rogers x little!reader #marvel agere #chloe's fic

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grabby-smitten · 7 months ago

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Pinky promise Prt. 2

Part one is here!

Subjects: Bunny Hybrid!Xavier x Human F!Reader

Word count: 1.4k

Content: Hybrid AU, MDNI, smut, PiV, breeding, cunnilingus, dubcon if u squint, male heat\rut, reader has female anatomy, no beta and not edited, commas placed everywhere, idk… let me know if i missed anything.

A.N: I think writing Xavier is so much easier than other lads… for me, at least. I believe that he’s a total sex freak and nobody can change my mind. Enjoy! 💋

On the fifth day, you walked in to pick up the tray of his lunch. You were gonna be in and out, it was the best for the both of you or at least you believed so.

Something felt off as soon as you stepped foot in the room. Looking around you saw his harness discarded in a corner and no sign of Xavier. Panic began to creep in, the eerie silence made goosebumps run down your spine as your eyes frantically zigzagged across the room in search of him.

Without warning the door slammed closed and the loud bang propelled you away from it. There, he stood with a hand still on the door. Xavier was all sweaty and disheveled, a crazed look in his eyes clouded the soft blue you knew so well.

He suddenly crouched and as fast as lightning he was in front of you.

Xavier took hold of your ankle and pulled, causing you to fall to the floor, but before you could scramble away, his grip on your leg tensed and you were being yanked towards him. The scream you meant to release died in your throat as a heavy body dropped on top of you.

As he pinned you down to the freezing floor, You felt the cold tip of his nose travel from your temple to the side of your face as he kept sniffing. Deep intakes of breath down your neck, the softness of his lips alternating with some pecks of his tongue. Tasting? Sniffing? Savoring? You were unsure at this point, overwhelmed with all the sensations raining down on you at once.

Observing the ceiling and the crown of his head, the dizziness decreased as your mind began to understand what was happening.

“Xavier, wait!” But he wasn’t listening. Not that he didn’t want to. It’s just that he couldn’t. The beating of his heart drowned every other sound. Your scent, your touch and everything that made you— you, clogged his senses.

You could hear him constantly whimper as he moved down your body. Scenting every bit of skin that crossed his path. His hot and humid breath fanning over your body.

Once he was content with what he was sensing, Xavier took no time to remove your clothes. Almost tearing them to shreds in the process. No controlled movements, just pure desire and instinct driving him where he needed to be. He saw the clothing items as just obstacles in his path and getting rid of them was the only solution.

His wild blue orbs gazed at your naked figure, sprawled on the floor. Instinctively, the rough pads of his fingertips grazed your nipples. That same curious touch made its way down your body, leaving a tingling trail after it.

As if he had snapped out of a trance, Xavier’s hands roughly moved under your asscheeks. Positioning where he needed you, he dived right into your center.

Xavier didn’t even know where he was going. He only you were calling to the deepest part of him to own, to take and to possess. He latched onto your core, swirling his tongue around, over and down your center. No pace or technique. Desperation in each of his movements as if he didn’t eat fast enough someone would take away his meal. And none was going to snatch you away from him. Ever.

Little nibbles on your clit got you dry heaving, choking on hair. Your hand on his damp forehead did nothing to deter him from getting what he wanted. His lips surrounded your bundle of nerves and pulled, sucked. he did the same with his front teeth. Pulling, desperately tugging. His hands holding you in place so he could keep bullying his head between your legs— as if that would get him any deeper.

Xavier was messy. burying his face between your thighs, biting your hips and any piece of skin he could latch on so he could draw out those little whimpers and sounds you made every time he did so. His spit and your juices dripping from his cheeks and nose to his chin and ending up on the floor. Sticking to everything; clothes, skin, you and him… both.

You were screaming incoherencies in no time, voice hoarse from the abuse to your lower body. Your throat burned, not knowing if to release or take in air. You didn’t even know where to put your hands, not wanting to hurt his bunny ears but needing to grip something, anything.

The sounds he made as he sucked your juices were obscene, grotesque even and it filled the tiny room completely. You had come already, not sure how many times since he hadn’t stopped once. He just kept and kept getting mouthfuls of you without thinking of anything outside of your taste.

Xavier got tired of not hearing more of your cries, your thighs constantly shaking and constricting his head, quieting your songs of ecstasy. So he decided to fix that. He positioned his forearms on your legs and spread you apart as his palms kept pushing your lower belly down and in place. Instinctively, you attempted to close them but you found such a task impossible. Xavier kept a death grip on your body, his tongue never stopping and tears began running down your face as it all became too much, too overwhelming.

You could feel the internal pressure beginning to build up again, Your inner thighs sweetly ached and the warmth of your release suddenly exploded with more intensity than before, making you scream and wildly buckle your hips on Xavier’s face. But he was unfazed, just tightened his grip and moaned as soon as your newly heated liquids hit his taste buds.

“Please, let me— fuck— let me fuck a litter into you,” he breathed his words against your swollen entrance, your brain barely registered the meaning after the high, but you numbly nodded anyway. Anything for your bunny, right?

And that’s how his first rut went on and on. Your body handled to his liking, pushed and pulled. You could feel his elbows digging at your back, pushing you down as his hips inevitably rutted behind you. Face down, cheek pressed to the icy floor as his erratic breathing fanned the nape of your neck.

flipped over by sweaty and stinky palms. your leg hiked up to his chest and forcing his leaking member down your soft velvety walls again and again.

Whimpers left your lips through the whole night as Xavier used you, filled your insides with his burning ropes of white. Scalding your dripping cunt as the few drops that escaped ran down your thighs, pooling on the floor under both your still joined bodies.

his human, his first safe human. After all, you promised.

“So it’s completely normal?” You asked Xavier’s doctor through a call. “Okay, I see. So that means he’s healthy… I— no! No! I’m fine! Yeah, thanks. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

Xavier looked down at the floor as you hung up the call with his doctor. Feeling a bit guilty about the whole heat thing from last night, but you seemed fine and more concerned about him than yourself.

“I’m sorry… I—“ but you didn’t let Xavier finish his sentence.

“No, no, no.” You surrounded him with your arms as you spoke, “Xav, hun, it’s okay. Didn’t you hear the doctor? It means you’re healthy and I… well, we both enjoyed it, right?”

“Right,” was all you heard from him but you have no idea the door you just opened for your bunny.

Six months later…

The languish licks were driving you crazy, but Xavier was taking his time. Head buried under your skirt as soon as you came home from work. He caught you at the entrance of your place, not even giving you a second to take off your shoes. You were pushed against the wall and your legs opened with no chance of denial.

Let’s just say that Xavier enjoyed his heats nowadays.

#omificstags #love and deepspace fanfiction #lads xavier x reader smut #hybrid au #hybrid!xavier #love & deepspace #omi.ds #l&ds #lads hybrid au #xavier x mc #xavier x you #xavier x y/n #love and deepspace Xavier #lads smut #lads x reader #love and deepspace smut #lads xavier x reader

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star-centric · 2 years ago

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Could you pretty please do some “how they would try to court you” (not in a ABO way, but in a Devildom dating culture way), headcanons / scenarios with Mammon, Beel, and Diavolo?

PAIRINGS: Mammon, Diavolo & Beel x reader (all separate)

NOTE: Let me say this- I love love LOVE requests like these!!! Any time I can write about stuff like this it makes me kick my feet and giggle. Also sorry this is so late- life is a hectic atm 🫠

CW: gender neutral reader, mentions of possessiveness, minor suggestive themes (mainly in Diavolo’s part)

How They Would Try to Court You (feat. Mammon, Beelzebub and Diavolo) (Headcanons)

MAMMON

Mammon’s a lot like his crow familiars- especially when it comes to courting. Combine that with his sin of greed and you’re in for a time!

He’s greedy, so it only makes sense that he wants all of the time. Whether it’s just laying around in your room or even just walking to class, he’s right by your side. People are starting to get used to see him literally everywhere you go. He might as well be perched on your shoulder like your own personal crow

You start to find little trinkets left for you- courtesy of Mammon. Those pairs of earrings you were eyeing at the boutique? You found them on your pillow when you got back from class. The cute pin you says reminds you of him? It's already in your locker. The items are usually something small, but still meaningful to you

Nests!! When you see a cozy bundle of blankets and pillows in both of your rooms, and how Mammon is very adamant (ie. very nervous of your approval) that you have to lay it, you feel like he have no choice but to get in it. It's so comfortable that when he sees you instantly relax he can't help but let his chest puff out in pride (and he may have let out a coo or two when he saw how peacefully you were sleeping)

Speaking of cooing- he’s humming around you too now. It's cute actually, and it makes him blush whenever you comment on it (he even does it without realizing it sometimes, which makes it even more adorable). You start to catch it when you praise him for something, but he starts doing it even more outside of it. He tries to play dumb about it, but he's really happy (and relieved) that you love how his voice sounds (it's what he was hoping for)

He starts to flash show his demon form to you more. It stemmed from your praise at his photo shoot, and ever since then he's been stretching his wings around you. Graze your fingers across them and Mammon would be putty in your hands

Mammon has always been selfish, especially when it comes to you. It’s obvious what he’s trying to do, but you’re still a bit surprised when he gets serious about it. The nights where he asks you not to leave, where he tightens his grip around you and buries his face into your neck, he means it

He wants to prove to you that he’s the only one you need, that you don’t need any other demon but him

BEELZEBUB

Beel’s courting style is simple, yet effective!

Despite it being a while since Beel felt this much of a pull towards someone like this, he really does try his best

He makes sure you’re well fed and never hungry- he knows how he can get on an empty stomach, plus he has to make sure you’re taken care of! It starts to become a very common sight to see Beel feeding some of his food to you, which leaves the others shocked, but he’s unfazed by it. They’ll even catch you bringing you food to share and not the other way around they’re used to

Beel is also like Mammon in a way- always by your side. Whether he’s just stuffing his face or observing something else, he’s right behind you like a second shadow. You didn’t realize how intimidating it was until you started to wonder why so many people started to steer clear of you- literally

(It wasn’t on purpose but Beel wasn’t complaining)

He also starts to work out around you more. You’ve always been amazed at his muscles, awed at how he lifts hundreds of pounds with ease. He’s never been one too full of pride, but the sensation bubbling inside of his chest made him want to show you more. His regular workouts, his fangol games, practice- he wanted you there for it all

Beel can’t explain it, but putting his strength on display for you feeds into a growing urge that’s hard to suppress. He wants to show you how strong he is, how easily he can protect you if something were to arise. The fanged grin on his face when he sees you cheering for him leaves him motivated to do even more

Sometimes he’ll slip into his demon form because of how excited he gets seeing you (which in turn makes his opponents/teammates nervous)

Soft bites- it happened by mistake the first time. Beel accidentally bit your finger while you were trying to feed him. He didn’t break any skin or hurt you, but when you bit him (playfully) in return something…changed inside of him after that. He wanted to do it more- leave your skin littered with marks done by him. And he wants to feel your own blunt teeth bite into him (even if you don’t leave a mark). It’s become a cute memory and another inside joke between you both

(Even if it makes him want to go feral everytime he sees your bite marks)

Beel also scents you! He has the strongest sense of smell in the house (and probably one of the strongest in the entire Devildom), so being able to leave his scent on you isn’t a problem. Lending you his clothes (which the sight of you with them does something to him too), wrapping you in his own blankets while burying his face into your neck- you don’t know why he’s been so cuddly lately but you’re not complaining (and neither is he)

Beel isn’t much of the possessive type, but he’s not willing to share you with any other demon outside of his family. Even then, his primal urge is somewhat satiated knowing that he’s left his mark(s) on you for others to see- and plans on leaving more to show that you’re his

DIAVOLO

The Future King of the Devildom has been lonely for some time now- so forgive him if he goes a bit…overboard in his methods

Remember how he was when you ate the pudding humans weren't allowed to eat? Imagine that type of behavior but with no restrictions

Expect to be adorned in the finest jewelry/outfits you could get in all of the Devildom. It gets to a point where you’re wearing literal millions- all he does is laugh at your shocked expression and waves off your worries. It’s not like he can’t afford it- plus he wants to see you in it all! (and show you how easy he can provide for you)

He’s a lot more bolder than he usually is during this time too (not that he wasn’t bold to begin with). He’s…just not holding back anymore

He’s more open with his touch, his hands finding his way to you a lot more common now. Whether it's out in public or behind closed doors, Diavolo can't seem to keep his hands to himself. The looks you get from people when you're out together make you a little embarrassed, but he holds his head up high anyway (which you're not surprised- he is the ruler still, not like they can say much anyway)

But Diavolo doesn't mind the looks- he wants them actually. He wants people to see you with him, to know that you're with him and that nothing is going to change that. That you're his and his alone. A part of him is tempted to keep you locked inside for his eyes only, but he knows that it wouldn't be right to do that to you

But he does invite you over to the castle more, which somewhat helps his urges. You’re waited on hand and foot by Diavolo, who doesn’t mind at all- he sent Barbatos away on “important tasks” (ie. give him alone time with you). It’s adorable how earnest he is in taking care of you, even if it’s something minimal as holding the door for you or feeding you himself

He’s in his demon form too, and thrives off of your attention- to see how you admire him makes his chest swell with pride. You’re in awe at his form (which makes sense since it’s a rare sight to see), and he loves it. He craves it. He encourages you to touch his wings and have your fingers graze his horns- just be careful not to tug on them too hard, unless you want to really get him riled up more than he is now

Diavolo is also like Beel in wanting to see his marks and scent left on your skin. He shows restraint, and it’s only ever done in spots he can see (mostly). There may be a dark splotch or two on your neck from when he got carried away (or when he wanted to show others that you already belong to someone)

Diavolo really hasn’t felt like this over anyone in years- Hell, probably in his entire life. He really has become enamored with you during your time in the Devildom that he can’t imagine loving someone else. You truly have made his life brighter with your presence

He understands that you can’t stay here forever, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t become mates regardless, right? Or rather, who’s going to stop him?

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rottenpumpkin13 · 4 months ago

Note

Hi i really liked your genesis headcanons can you do relationship headcanons for seph and ang, thanks btw

Not sure if you came from that post, but I made one for Genesis a while ago in case you want to read it! Here's the link.

Dating Sephiroth

• Completely inexperienced in relationships and romantic feelings in general, initially suppresses his own emotions out of habit, but eventually caves for his person. He treats dating like research at first, reading extensively and trying to understand the "proper protocols" for courting someone (he's so sweet)

• Takes time to open up due to his isolated upbringing, but when he does, he forms an intense, almost obsessive attachment to his partner (i n t e n s e)

• Struggles to express emotions verbally but shows his love through unwavering loyalty and dedication. Will move mountains for his partner if needed. His partner is sick? There goes Sephiroth concocting medicine from scratch bc he doesn't trust Shinra. Partner is hungry? Sephiroth in the kitchen trying his best to make them their favorite food before giving up and ordering out. Partner is cold? There goes Sephiroth's coat and his partner's personal space because now they're bundled in his leather while being squished by a giant kitty.

• Very touch-starved but doesn't know how to initiate physical affection in the beginning. Melts completely when his partner casually touches him or plays with his hair. When he and his partner grow comfortable with each other, Sephiroth absolutely will drape himself over them like a cat, ask for cuddles, and use them as a human plushie.

• Protective to an extreme degree. Has to consciously work on not shadowing his partner everywhere or eliminating perceived threats before they even manifest….like the mailman. Experiences jealousy intensely but internalizes it rather than acting out. Needs frequent reassurance that his partner won't abandon him ;-;

• During fights, he tends to shut down emotionally, not knowing how to handle conflict in relationships. He needs a patient partner willing to help him work through his feelings and to be there to hug and tell him he's still loved.

• Cherishes quiet domestic moments he never had before; simple things like sharing meals or reading together mean the world to him.

• Extremely observant of his partner's needs and preferences. Will remember every little detail about them and use that knowledge to make them happy. That candy their partner mentioned liking in passing? There's now boxes of it in their pantry and Sephiroth bought a monthly subscription to it.

Dating Angeal

• Takes relationships seriously, okay? The man dates for marriage and a life partner, not for a casual fling. And he believes in building a foundation of trust, respect, and understanding before pursuing anything romantic.

• Very traditional in his approach to courting and is a complete gentleman. Will absolutely ask for permission to court his partner properly and plans thoughtful, wholesome dates like picnics, hiking, or cooking together.

• Shows his love through acts of service and protection. Will make sure his partner is well-fed, safe, and cared for. Grows herbs and vegetables specifically for cooking their favorite meals and/or making healthy versions of their favorite junk food. Food is his love language, and there's nothing that makes him happier than cooking for his partner.

• Tender and gentle in private, to an extreme degree. Babies the hell out of his partner and loves quiet moments where he can hold them, talk to them, and care for them.

• Gets adorably flustered by open displays of affection but secretly loves when his partner is demonstrative with their love. Will turn bright red if they so much as hold his hand in public. Yet he casually wraps his arms around their waist when they're out to send a message to the world lol.

• Very protective but not possessive. He trusts his partner completely and respects their independence. His protectiveness comes from a place of genuine care rather than jealousy. But that's not to say Angeal won't break someone's teeth in for trying to get with his partner.

• He's the voice of reason during arguments who tries to resolve things calmly through communication.

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #angeal hewley #ff7 crisis core #crisis core #sephiroth x reader #angeal hewley x reader

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pastryfication · 6 months ago

Text

how can it be christmas?

pairing: lando norris x ex!reader

part three of my advent celebration

the christmas market was alive, the kind of place where people came to forget their troubles. families bustled between stalls, children clutched sweets in mittened hands, and couples huddled close against the cold, their laughter mixing with the carols drifting through the air.

but for lando norris, it was a graveyard of memories.

his sister had insisted he come. “you need to get out,” she’d said, her voice gentle but firm. and so he’d let her drag him here, to this swirl of lights and music and joy that felt entirely foreign to him.

he walked a few steps behind his family, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets, his head low against the cold. he wasn’t sure why he’d let her convince him. christmas wasn’t the same anymore. not since he’d lost you.

the memory of last christmas was a ghost that lingered everywhere. the way you’d begged him to take the weekend off so you could visit a market just like this one, teasing him about how grumpy he’d been about the cold. the way your eyes lit up when you found that snowflake ornament—the one he’d insisted wasn’t worth the price, only to buy it behind your back and surprise you later.

that snowflake now hung on his tree at home. the only ornament he’d put up this year.

he hadn’t expected the memories to hit him this hard. every laugh, every couple holding hands, every damn strand of lights reminded him of you. and the worst part was knowing that he was the one who ruined it. he’d made the decision to let you go, convinced it was for your sake. that you deserved better than a boyfriend who was always gone, always distracted, always in a different time zone.

but the truth was that he’d been a coward.

he hadn’t wanted to admit how much you loved him, how willing you were to fight for a relationship he hadn’t been brave enough to believe in. and so he’d walked away. left you standing in the doorway of his flat, your voice breaking as you’d asked him why he was doing this.

he could still see your face. still hear the way you’d said, “i would’ve waited, lando. i would’ve tried.”

he shook the memory off, forcing himself to focus on the present. he trailed his sister and her kids as they stopped at a stall selling roasted chestnuts, his mind a million miles away.

then he heard it—a laugh.

it wasn’t loud or particularly distinct, but something about it cut through the noise of the market like a knife. his heart clenched, and before he could stop himself, he turned toward the sound.

and there you were.

at first, he thought he was imagining it. he hadn’t seen you in months, hadn’t let himself even check your social media because the pain of seeing you move on felt unbearable. but now, here you were, standing just a few meters away.

you were bundled up against the cold, a scarf wrapped high around your neck, your cheeks pink from the chill. for a moment, everything else faded away, and all he could do was stare.

you turned slightly, laughing again at something someone said, and that’s when he saw him.

the man standing beside you.

he was tall, with an easy smile and an arm draped casually over your shoulders. he leaned close to you, his face tilted toward yours, and you responded by leaning into him, your smile soft and effortless.

lando’s stomach twisted violently.

he couldn’t move. couldn’t breathe. he’d thought about this moment so many times, imagined what it might feel like to see you with someone else. but nothing had prepared him for the reality of it.

you looked happy.

more than happy. you looked alive in a way he hadn’t seen in so long, and the sight of it broke something inside him.

he told himself he should look away, that he didn’t have the right to stand here and watch you like this. but he couldn’t. his feet were rooted to the cobblestones as he took in the way the man handed you a steaming cup of something, his hand brushing yours. you smiled up at him, your eyes bright, and lando felt his heart shatter all over again.

you’d moved on.

of course, you had. he was the one who left. the one who broke your heart and told you that it was for your own good. he’d told himself he was doing the right thing, letting you go so you could have a life that didn’t revolve around his career, his absence, his shortcomings.

but it wasn’t for your good—it was for his. he hadn’t been strong enough to hold on to you, to let himself believe he deserved you. and now he was standing here, a hollow version of the man he used to be, watching someone else live the life he’d thrown away.

his throat burned as he forced himself to look away, his hands trembling in his pockets. he turned and walked aimlessly into the crowd, his mind racing, his chest tight.

how had he let it get to this point?

he passed a lamppost strung with lights and leaned against it, sucking in a shaky breath. the air was icy, biting against his skin, but it wasn’t enough to numb the ache in his chest.

“lando?”

his sister’s voice cut through the haze, and he looked up to see her standing in front of him, her brow furrowed in concern. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” he said quickly, his voice rough. “i just needed some air.”

she didn’t believe him, but she didn’t push. instead, she glanced back toward the crowd. “we were about to grab hot chocolate. want to join us?”

he shook his head, barely able to meet her eyes. “no. i think i’m gonna head home.”

she hesitated, her hand brushing his arm. “are you sure?”

“yeah,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i’ll see you later.”

she didn’t look convinced, but she nodded and stepped away, leaving him alone.

lando stayed there for a long time, staring down at the cobblestones as the market buzzed around him, before he finally forced himself to move, his legs heavy, his heart heavier. he didn’t look back, didn’t risk another glimpse of you.

it didn’t matter. the image of you—your smile, your laugh, the way you leaned into the man beside you—was burned into his memory.

as he walked away, the snow falling softly around him, lando realized something he’d been too afraid to admit.

this was what he deserved.

and no matter how many christmases came and went, it would never feel like christmas again.

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stevieschrodinger · 6 months ago

Text

Part One ThirtyThree

Prompt from @bookworm0690 and @after-the-end-times

“Stevie love!”

“Yeah?”

“It’s snowing!”

The phone starts to ring as Steve heads to the window, so Steve diverts to answer it. “Steve! It’s snowing!”

“Hey Robs, and yeah, Eddie just told me.”

“Do you think it’ll be bad? The forecast says it’ll come down heavy. Do you think we will get a snow day tomorrow?”

“I think Keith would expect us to open even if we had to find a sled and a team of dogs to get us there.”

“Poop.”

“Yeap. But I’ll see how the roads are in the morning, if it’s bad then fuck it, I’m not risking the beemer. Who’s going to want to rent a movie anyway?”

“Okay, call me in the morning? Chrissy already said she’s not bothering to open the shop if it’s bad, who goes out in the snow to buy flowers?”

“I don’t know, the same people who go out in the snow to rent movies, probably. But, yeah, she’s probably right.”

“Okay, bye dingus, love you.”

“Love you too Robs.”

Eddie practically has his face smushed against the window, “cold water,” he informs Steve.

“Yeah, yeah that’s right,” Steve watches the snow start to gather in patches on the lawn with dawning apprehension that he can’t place. There’s no reason for it, really. They’re safe and warm inside, and Steve knows without looking that they have a good weeks worth of groceries in the house. The main roads will probably be plowed before lunch time tomorrow at the latest, so none of that is what's worrying him.

It really starts coming down, thick heavy flakes that start to blanket everything, and as the snow banks, Steve thinks more about last year. Was it around now that Eddie was getting sick? Steve can’t quite place the time line, but he remembers how cold he’d been, sitting outside next to the pool, his missing toes throb with phantom pain, and Steve shivers. Eddie was getting sicker as the snow fell, and Steve remembers holding him, bundled in a blanket at the back door, so he could see the snow, “I’m going to make us hot chocolate,” Steve says to distract himself.

“Whizzy cream?” Eddie asks absently.

“Sure baby.”

The next day, the world is clean and white and quiet. The gray sky is bright where the sun shines through the clouds, reflecting off the snow; it makes the whole world hard to look at.

“Stevie can we go out?”

“Out in the snow?”

“I want to walk on it.”

“Leave footprints everywhere?” Eddie nods enthusiastically. “We could make snow angels. And snow men.”

Eddie turns to look at Steve, “snow men? Snow angels?”

“Oh man, you’re gonna’ love this.”

Eddie’s frizzy curls are sticking out from under his woolen hat, and his jeans are tucked into a pair of Steve’s boots. He had managed all of thirty seconds outside before he wanted his sunglasses, so he’s wearing those too. Steve gets it, it is bright out here, what with all the white, and Eddie’s eyes are, even now, very sensitive to the light.

Eddie’s licking a snowball. Under normal circumstances, Steve might stop him, but the snow out here in the yard is fresh and clean, so Steve lets it go.

Steve flops onto his back, Eddie letting out a surprised laugh at the sight, and then he comes closer, watching as Steve moves his arms and legs, getting up again to reveal the shape he’s left behind, “see, snow angels.”

“Huh,” Eddie says, not seeming that impressed by it.

“We could build a snow man?”

“Which man is it?”

Steve snorts a laugh, “uhm...no. It can be anyone I guess, but usually it’s like a generic snow...person. We can give him a carrot for a nose and, like, maybe a scarf?”

Eddie frowns, “what, in case he gets cold?” he looks bemused by the idea.

“Come on, I’ll show you...and I really think we need to get around to watching some Christmas movies.”

The moment Eddie grasps the idea of what Steve’s showing him, he’s away. He digs up twigs and rocks and things from under the lighter snow banked between the trees, happily giving his creations arms and eyes and mouths and...eyebrows.

“No no,” he directs Steve, “that one is Lucas, so the Max one should be smaller.” Eddie rams in twigs for their arms, angling them so that ‘Lucas’ and ‘Max’ are holding hands.

Steve stands back, frowning, “so who is that one again?”

“Argyle, and that’s Hopper," Eddie replies, like it's obvious.

“Right, right. So we just have...Joyce left?”

“Yeah, we have to make Joyce the best one.”

Steve smiles to himself; he’s not entirely sure how good Eddie’s memory is when it comes to those first few days after he came out of the pool, freshly bald and newly legged, but Eddie definitely remembers the Christmas food. He also seems to remember how, in those first few months, Joyce was Steve’s go to for advice on Eddie care.

Not to mention how kind Joyce has always been; how she’s always gone out of her way to treat Eddie with the same kindness and inclusion as everyone else.

“You know what, you’re right, you build Joyce, I’ll be right back.”

Steve knocks the snow off his shoes at the back door, before heading upstairs to raid his parents wardrobes. He comes back with a small armful of stuff, and Eddie gleefully distributes clothing amongst his family of creations. Joyce ends up stylishly dressed in a cashmere shawl that Steve has no doubt is probably worth at least a months wages. He doesn’t give a shit though, and clearly neither do his parents; they haven’t been back at all this year.

Eddie stands back after, surveying his creations, “a little family,” he grins at Steve.

“Yeah,” Steve can’t help but agree, “now lets go in and warm up.”

“Yup,” Eddie grabs Steve’s face, smushing a chilly wet kiss to Steve’s nose on the way past.

#eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie #ficlet #ao3 author #upside down creature eddie #Fish Guy Eddie #creature eddie munson #creature #robin buckly #pre steddie

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emjayewrites · 6 months ago

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a bellingham christmas (hey there delilah) • jude bellingham

SYNOPSIS: Real Madrid football star Jude Bellingham has had a big crush on Delilah "Lila" Hamilton, the younger sister of Formula 1 legend Lewis Hamilton, for a while. As their budding romance unfolds, will they be able to navigate the pressures of fame and family dynamics?

PAIRINGS: Jude Bellingham x Delilah "Lila" Hamilton (face claim Rayan Xasan)

WARNINGS: cursing, f1/football b.s., overly protective siblings, light smut, adult jokes (18+/minors dni)

TAGLIST: @dreamingjude @foreverisntenough @nichmeddar @lettersofgold @judesvirtual @perfecttrashface @alika-4466 @cocobutterqwueen @leilaxaliel @ispywithmylileye @vile-harlot @bellinghaalands @certifiedlesbianbaddie @yeea-nah @empressdede @saturnville @pinkcatcus @shepgurl @ffenthusiastt @serpenttines-library @judesprincess @bbgkoo @enretrogue @liamundi

A/N: Merry Christmas you filthy animals! Also bit of a spoiler for another story!

Bergen greeted them with a flurry of snow, the city's harbor twinkling with Christmas lights. Lila, bundled up in one of Jude's oversized hoodies under her coat, pressed her face against the car window like an excited child.

"It's so pretty," she breathed, watching the snow-covered houses pass as their driver continued down the road.

Jude smiled, watching her reaction. For someone who grew up with the glitz of Formula 1 and fashion weeks, Lila still had this endearing way of finding wonder in simple things.

The Bellingham's rented house sat overlooking the fjord, a modern three-story structure with floor-to-ceiling windows that captured the stunning winter landscape. Traditional Norwegian Christmas decorations adorned every surface and strings of white lights twinkled everywhere.

Inside was cheerful chaos. The massive Fraser fir dominated the living room, while Jobe and Mark engaged in their annual tree-placement debate.

"It needs to be centered in front of the window," Mark insisted, one hand on the trunk.

"Dad, no one's going to see it from the fjord," Jobe argued. "If we put it in the corner, there's more room for presents."

"Your son's thinking about his gift pile already," Mark called to Denise, who was orchestrating Christmas preparations from the open-plan kitchen.

"Both of you stop fussing and just put it where I marked the spot," Denise directed, not looking up from her baking. The scent of her famous rum cake already filled the air, mixing with pine needles and cinnamon.

At the sound of the front door opening, Denise's face lit up. She abandoned her baking, rushing to greet them with flour-dusted hands.

"My babies!" she exclaimed, pulling Lila into a warm hug, not caring about the flour transferring to Lila's coat. "How was your flight? Are you hungry? You look tired - Jude, did you let her sleep on the plane?"

Before either could answer, she was already moving on. "Jude, take her bags up - and yes, I put you in separate rooms so don't even try it." Her eyes sparkled with barely contained excitement. "Oh, and guess who's here? Justine! Can you believe it? Jobe finally worked up the courage to invite her."

She said this last part in what she probably thought was a whisper, but it carried clearly across the room. Jobe's protests of "Mum!" only made her beam wider.

"Now come in properly, you're letting all the warm air out. I've got hot chocolate ready, and there are fresh cookies cooling - unless your father's found them already."

Mark's guilty expression suggested he had indeed found the cookies, but Denise was too happy having all her children (and their significant others) under one roof to mind.

Lila's eyes widened. "Justine's here? Like, here here?"

"Upstairs getting changed," Denise nodded, clearly thrilled. "I've already started calling her daughter."

"Jesus, Mum!" Jobe groaned from across the room.

Just then, Justine appeared on the stairs, looking slightly nervous but happy. Lila hadn't seen her since that Liverpool match months ago, but the way Jobe's face lit up at the sight of her said everything.

"Li!" Justine smiled, coming over for a hug. "Thank god you're here. I need another sane person in this house."

"Oi!" Jude protested while Lila laughed.

"Don't worry," Lila stage-whispered to Justine. "The Bellingham boys are a lot, but you get used to it."

"I heard that," Jobe called out, but he was grinning as he made his way to Justine's side.

As they decorated the tree, Lila couldn't help but notice how Justine hesitated before placing each ornament, glancing at Denise as if seeking approval. It reminded her of her own early days with the Bellinghams, that desire to fit perfectly into their world.

"The star goes wherever you want, love," Denise assured Justine, seeming to sense her uncertainty. "We're not formal about these things."

Jobe appeared behind Justine, wrapping his arms around her waist in a move so reminiscent of his brother that Lila had to hide her smile. The Bellingham boys and their physical affection - always touching, always close.

"Here," Jobe murmured, lifting Justine slightly so she could reach a higher branch. "Perfect spot."

"You two are sickeningly cute," Lila told Jobe and Justine. "Almost as bad as your brother."

"Please," Jobe scoffed, but his hand stayed at Justine's waist. "We're way cuter."

"Don't start that competition," Mark warned, hanging lights. "I already know my sons can't keep their hands to themselves."

"Dad!" both brothers protested while Justine blushed and Lila laughed.

As the evening continued, Lila watched Justine gradually relax, especially when Jobe kept finding excuses to stay close - adjusting her Santa hat, bringing her hot chocolate, stealing quick kisses when he thought no one was looking.

"They remind me of us," Jude whispered in Lila's ear, pulling her onto his lap in the big armchair.

"Mm, young love," Lila teased, earning a playful pinch.

"Young love? You're like a few months older than them," he murmured against her neck.

"Still."

"Oh, Lila Bila. What am I gonna do with you?"

"Love me obviously," she said, turning her head to plant a kiss on his lips.

______________________________________________

Dinner was a lively affair, the table laden with both traditional English Christmas dishes and Norwegian specialties Denise had insisted on trying. Everyone wore paper crowns from the crackers, even Mark who usually protested such things.

Under the table, Lila texted Zuri:

Lila: "OMG. Jobe brought Justine to Bergen!! Like full-on family Christmas!!" Zuri: "NO WAY. Baby Bellingham's growing up 😭" Lila: "Girl, you should see them. So cute it hurts" Zuri: "Denise must be over the moon" Lila: "Already calling her daughter 😂 Poor girl looks terrified"

Watching Justine navigate the family dynamics was like looking in a mirror from months ago. The way she carefully laughed at Mark's dad jokes, how she kept glancing at Jobe for reassurance, the slight nervousness when Denise asked about her studies.

After dinner, they gathered for movies, everyone in pajamas. Jude pulled Lila close on the couch, his chin resting on her head. Jobe and Justine settled on the floor, surrounded by pillows, his hand absently playing with her hair.

The Polar Express played first. During The Grinch, Lila found herself watching the others more than the screen. Denise kept "sneaking" cookies to everyone, while Mark dozed in his armchair, occasionally waking up to quote his favorite parts.

When bedtime came ("Separate rooms, I mean it!"), Lila retreated to change into her silk pajamas. She sent her Christmas messages:

To Lewis: "Merry Christmas big bro! You deserve this break after your farewell tour. So proud of you heading to Ferrari! Give Amara a big hug from me (though I'm sure you're with her anyway 😉)" To her parents, Nicolas, and her sisters & Mama Carmen: "Miss you! See you for New Year's! ❤️"

The knock on her door surprised her - instead of Jude trying to sneak in more kisses, she found Justine.

"Hey," Justine whispered. "Can we talk?"

Lila ushered her in, patting the bed beside her. "What's up?"

Their conversation flowed easily, both girls cross-legged on Lila's bed. Justine confessed her worries about balancing university with Jobe's football schedule, about the media attention, about living up to the Bellingham name.

"I just... how do you do it?" Justine asked. "Dating a Bellingham boy while having your own life? I'm worried about next term at uni, and Jobe's schedule with Sunderland…"

Lila understood completely. "Honestly? Communication is everything. Jude and I make it work because we talk about everything. The good, the bad, the times we miss each other so much it hurts."

"And the fans? The comments?"

"Keep your Instagram private," Lila advised firmly. "Fuck the naysayers. Focus on you and Jobe. The rest is just noise. And remember - you're not dating the footballer, you're dating the boy who still collects Star Wars Legos and can't cook toast without burning it."

Justine laughed softly. "He's so good to me. Like, ridiculously good. Sometimes I worry it's too good to be true."

"Those Bellingham boys," Lila smiled. "They don't do anything halfway. Trust me, I get it. But that's who they are - all in, heart on sleeve, love without hesitation."

After Justine left, Lila snuggled into bed, feeling content. Her phone lit up with messages - Lewis sending a photo of him and Amara in front of their Christmas tree and Zuri updating her about the Megève adventures. And before she knew it, she drifted off to sleep.

In the middle of the night, Lila woke to the sound of wind whistling outside her window. Snow swirled in the darkness, creating shadows that danced across her ceiling. The storm had picked up, making the old house creak and settle.

Then she heard it - the distinct sound of floorboards in the hallway, followed by a particular pattern of knocks she'd know anywhere.

Three quick taps, pause, one more.

Lila tiptoed to the door, careful to avoid the squeaky spots she'd noticed earlier. Opening it revealed Jude wearing flannel pajama bottoms and a soft t-shirt.

"Can't sleep," he whispered, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. "Just want to cuddle."

She stepped aside to let him in, both of them trying not to laugh as the floor creaked despite their best efforts. The storm outside provided perfect cover for their midnight rendezvous, the wind masking their whispered conversation as they settled into bed, Jude's arms wrapping around her waist.

"Your mum's going to kill us," Lila murmured, but she was already melting into his warmth.

"Worth it," he replied, pressing a kiss to her hair.

Jude’s body beside her chased away the chill from the storm outside. Lila had almost drifted back to sleep when his hands started to roam, fingertips brushing lightly along her waist over the silk fabric of her pajama top. She froze, her breath catching as he leaned in closer, his lips grazing the shell of her ear.

"Jude," she whispered, her voice a mix of warning and affection. "Your parents are sleeping in the same house."

"They’re on the floor below," he murmured, lips now at her neck, pressing soft, deliberate kisses against her skin. "They’re older, they can’t hear."

"That doesn’t make it—" Her words were cut off by the way his teeth lightly scraped against the sensitive spot just beneath her jawline. She shivered, her resolve slipping.

"You can be quiet, right, Li?" he teased, his voice low and raspy. She wanted to argue, to tell him no, but then his hands slid under her top, his palms warm and sure as they caressed her breasts.

"Jude," she tried again, but it came out as more of a breathy plea than the admonishment she intended.

"Hmm?" He kissed his way back up to her lips, capturing them in a kiss so soft yet so utterly consuming that she lost herself in it. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, then tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

He took his time undressing her, the silk of her pajamas slipping away under his gentle yet determined hands. She gasped as the cool air kissed her exposed skin, only to be replaced by the heat of his touch and the soft press of his lips around her nipples. She tried to remind herself of the risk, the fact that his family was downstairs, but every coherent thought melted under his attention.

Jude leaned back briefly, his gaze sweeping over her, full of adoration. "You’re perfect," he murmured, making her cheeks flush even in the dim light of the storm-filtered room. She reached for him, tugging at the hem of his t-shirt, and he obliged, pulling it off in one smooth motion. The rest of his clothes followed until he was settled between her legs, his body fitting against hers as if they were made for each other.

He paused, reaching for the bedside drawer, and he couldn’t help the amused smile that tugged at his lips. "Prepared, are we?"

"Always," she replied with a grin, watching as he tore open the condom and slipped it on.

"Hoping I’d sneak in?"

"Who says I was?" she shot back, her voice light but teasing.

He leaned down, brushing his lips against hers, his smile softening into something infinitely tender. "Liar," he whispered before kissing her deeply, leaving no room for argument.

When he entered her, it was slow and deliberate, his movements filled with care as though he wanted to savor every second. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him closer as their bodies moved together in a rhythm that felt like home. Each kiss, each touch, spoke volumes of the love between them, a quiet exchange of promises neither had to say aloud.

He whispered her name against her skin, his voice rough with emotion, and she responded in kind, her fingers tracing patterns across his back. The world outside faded away, leaving only the storm, their shared breaths, and the warmth of their connection.

When they finally came undone together, Lila couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped her lips. Jude pressed his forehead against hers, his breathing still uneven as he smiled.

"Merry Christmas, Li," he whispered, his voice soft and filled with affection.

She smiled back. "Merry Christmas, Jude."

Denise’s favorite Christmas playlist was a thing of legend, and this year was no different. The opening notes of “Last Christmas” by WHAM! blasted through the house, the volume high enough to shake the walls.

Lila stirred, the sound pulling her from the warm cocoon of sleep. She blinked groggily, realizing the weight of Jude’s arm was still draped over her waist. The storm had subsided overnight, leaving behind a blanket of snow and a house filled with holiday cheer—and impending chaos.

"Jude," she whispered urgently, shaking his shoulder. "Jude, wake up! Your mum’s going to catch us!"

"Mmm," Jude groaned, burying his face into her neck. "It’s Christmas, Li. Relax."

"She’s knocking on doors," Lila hissed, her voice rising as she heard Denise’s cheerful voice in the hallway.

"Merry Christmas! Get up, get your presents!" Denise called, her knock sharp and rhythmic as she moved from room to room.

Jude finally opened his eyes, his groggy gaze meeting Lila’s worried one. "Okay, okay," he muttered, sitting up and stretching lazily. "We’ve got time."

"We do not have time!" Lila said, already scrambling to find her silk pajama top. She tugged it over her head just as Jude slid out of bed with a frustratingly calm demeanor.

He pulled on his flannel pajama bottoms and a white t-shirt, taking his time smoothing out the fabric. "See? Easy."

"Your mum is going to kill me," Lila said, tying her pajama pants as Jude opened the door a crack and peeked out.

"The coast is clear," he whispered with a grin, holding out his hand for her. She hesitated before slipping her hand into his, and together they tiptoed down the hall like a pair of guilty teenagers.

Downstairs, the living room was already buzzing with Christmas energy. Mark stood by the tree, fully dressed as Santa, complete with a fake beard and a red velvet suit. Denise, ever the festive one, was wearing reindeer antlers, a white cashmere sweater dress, and fluffy red slippers.

Justine appeared at the top of the stairs, looking a little overwhelmed but still smiling. "Good morning, Mr. Mark," she greeted, trying to stifle a laugh.

Mark, however, was fully committed to his role. "Who’s this Mark person? You don’t recognize Santa?" he boomed in a deep, theatrical voice.

Jobe groaned as he flopped onto the couch. "Why are you here, Santa? Don’t you have to be back at the North Pole?"

Mark clutched his chest in mock offense. "I’m very close to the North Pole, actually. Plus, I had to see my woman." He turned to Denise, pulling her onto his lap.

Denise giggled like a schoolgirl, clearly enjoying the attention. "Have I been a good girl this year, Santa?" she asked coyly.

"Okay, that’s enough!" Jude declared, his cheeks turning red as he began rummaging under the tree. "Let’s get to the presents before this gets any weirder."

As Mark and Denise continued their playful banter, the girls exchanged a knowing look. Justine mouthed, "This family is crazy!" and Lila couldn’t help but laugh.

Jude started handing out presents, his efficiency rivaling that of an actual elf. Justine unwrapped a small box from Jobe, her eyes widening as she revealed a delicate pair of diamond stud earrings. "Oh my gosh, Jobe," she whispered, tears pooling in her eyes. "They’re beautiful."

Jobe grinned sheepishly. "Merry Christmas."

Lila’s heart raced as Jude handed her a small, velvet box. She opened it slowly, her breath catching when she saw the ring inside. It sparkled like an engagement ring, its delicate band and subtle diamond catching the light.

"Something for right now," Jude murmured, his voice soft as he took her hand. "Before the real thing."

Denise let out a gasp, her hand flying to her chest. "Oh, Jude! That’s so sweet!" She wiped at her eyes, clearly overcome with emotion.

Lila slipped the ring onto her finger, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and happiness. "It’s perfect," she said, leaning in to kiss Jude on the cheek.

After the presents were opened and the wrapping paper cleared, they gathered around the table for breakfast. Plates piled high with scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, and freshly baked cinnamon rolls filled the air with the smell of comfort and celebration.

Mark, still wearing his Santa hat, insisted on leading a toast. "To family, to love, and to making this Christmas unforgettable."

The morning unfolded with laughter, teasing, and stories shared around the table. Despite the chaos and close calls, Lila couldn’t help but feel grateful. It wasn’t just the presents or the festivities—it was the warmth of being surrounded by people who loved each other unabashedly.

After breakfast, they bundled up for sledding. Lila disappeared under layers - thermal underwear, ski pants, and an oversized black Moncler puffer that made her look even tinier than usual. As she waddled towards the door, Jude couldn't contain his grin.

"You look like the cutest little penguin I've ever seen," he teased, earning himself a playful swat.

"Not all of us are built like trees," she retorted, but her eyes sparkled with amusement behind her designer ski goggles.

The hill behind the house was perfect for sledding. Jobe immediately claimed the fastest sled, prompting Jude to scoff.

"Please, you need all the help you can get," Jude taunted. "What's your technique gonna be? Naruto running down the hill?"

"Better than looking like a giraffe on ice," Jobe shot back. "You’re gonna lose, old man."

"Old man?" Jude's eyebrows shot up. "Alright then, prove it. First one to that tree wins."

"What tree? The one you can reach standing still?"

Their first few runs were close, each brother claiming victory while the girls kept actual score. Jude's longer legs gave him an advantage on the trudge back up, but Jobe's lighter frame meant faster runs down.

"That's three-two, my favor," Jobe gloated after another run.

"In what universe?" Jude demanded. "You're counting that wonky run where you nearly took out that bush?"

"A win's a win, bruv."

"Watch this then," Jude positioned his sled. "This is how a Real Madrid star does it."

His run was perfect until Jobe "accidentally" sent a spray of snow into his face at the bottom.

"Oh, you're done for," Jude growled playfully, tackling his brother into a snowbank.

They wrestled in the snow like kids, their expensive coats doing nothing to protect them from the wet cold. Justine and Lila stood to the side, sharing knowing looks.

From the porch, where Denise and Mark sat by the outdoor fire pit nursing hot toddies, came the warning they all knew was coming:

"Jude Victor and Jobe Samuel!" Denise's voice carried clear across the snow. "If you don't cut that foolishness out right now..."

The brothers separated instantly, recognizing that tone all too well. Their mother didn't need to finish the threat - they were already brushing snow off their coats, looking appropriately chastened.

"Every time," Mark chuckled, wrapping an arm around his wife.

"Works every time," Denise corrected with a satisfied smile.

Lila caught Justine's eye and they both burst out laughing. The mighty Bellingham boys, brought to heel by their mother's voice. Some things never changed.

"One more run?" Jobe suggested innocently.

"Clean one this time," Jude agreed. "No cheating."

"Me? Cheat? I would never-"

"Jobe."

"Fine, fine. May the best man win."

"Don't worry," Jude smirked. "I will."

As they watched their boyfriends take on another run down the hill, Lila realized how perfectly Justine fit into their chaos, just like she had. The Bellinghams had a way of making family out of love, of turning girlfriends into daughters, of making space in their hearts for more. Christmas with them was exactly that - chaotic, warm, and absolutely perfect.

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